petitions out of the city against it, than ever yet appeared against any other monopoly whatsoever. Every tradesman that cannot keep his wife a coach could keep her a pair of wings, and there is no doubt but she would be every morning and evening taking the air with them.

I have here only considered the ill consequences of this invention in the influences it would have on love-affairs. I have many more objections to make on other accounts; but these I shall defer publishing till I see my friend astride the dragon.

m

I LAST night received a letter from an honest citizen, who it seems is in his honey-moon. It is written by a plain man on a plain subject, but has an air of good sense and natural honesty in it, which may perhaps please the public as much as myself. I shall not therefore scruple the giving it a place in my paper, which is designed for common use, and for the benefit of the poor as well as rich.

" GOOD MR. IRONSIDE,

I HAVE lately married a very pretty body, who being something younger and richer than myself, I was advised to go a wooing to her in a finer suit of clothes than ever I wore in my life; for I love to dress

* ADDISON'S.

m This paper, No. 112. is distinguished by a hand, Addison's signature in the Guardian, and reprinted by Mr. T. Tickell, in his edition of Addison's 'Works,' 4to. vol. iv. p. 180. edit. 1721.

plain, and suitable to a man of my rank. However, I gained her heart by it. Upon the wedding day I put myself, according to custom, in another suit, firenew, with silver buttons to it. I am so out of countenance among my neighbours upon being so fine, that I heartily wish my clothes well worn out. I fancy every body observes me as I walk the street, and long to be in my old plain geer again. Besides, forsooth, they have put me in a silk night-gown and a gaudy fool's cap, and make me now and then stand in the window with it. I am ashamed to be dandled thus, and cannot look in the glass without blushing to see myself turned into such a pretty little master. They tell me I must appear in my wedding-suit for the first month at least; after which I am resolved to come again in my every-day's clothes, for at present every day is Sunday with me. Now, in my mind, Mr. Ironside, this is the wrongest way of proceeding in the world. When a man's person is new and unaccustomed to a young body, he does not want any thing else to set him off. The novelty of the lover has more charms than a wedding-suit. I should think, therefore, that a man should keep his finery for the latter seasons of marriage, and not begin to dress till the honey-moon is over". I have observed at a lord-mayor's feast that the sweet-meats do not make their appearance until people are cloyed with beef and mutton, and begin to lose their stomachs. But instead of this we serve up delicacies to our guests, when their appetites are keen, and coarse diet when their bellies are full. As bad as I hate hate my silverbuttoned coat and silk night-gown, I am afraid of leaving them off, not knowing whether my wife would not repent of her marriage when she sees what a plain man she has to her husband. Pray, Mr. Ironside,

But who will dress at last? A.

write something to prepare her for it, and let me know whether you think she can ever love me in a hair button. I am, &c.

Cheapside, July 18.

P.S. I forgot to tell you of my white gloves, which they say too, I must wear all the first month.'

My correspondent's observations are very just, and may be useful in low life; but to turn them to the advantage of people in higher stations, I shall raise the moral, and observe something parallel to the wooing and wedding-suit, in the behaviour of persons of figure. After long experience in the world, and reflections upon mankind, I find one particular occasion of unhappy marriages, which, though very common, is not very much attended to. What I mean is this. Every man in the time of courtship, and in the first entrance of marriage, puts on a behaviour like my correspondent's holiday suit, which is to last no longer than till he is settled in the possession of his mistress. He resigns his inclinations and understanding to her humour and opinion. He neither loves nor hates, nor talks nor thinks in contradiction to her. He is controlled by a nod, mortified by a frown, and transported by a smile. The poor young lady falls in love with this supple creature, and expects of him the same behaviour for life. In a little time she finds that he has a will of his own, that he pretends to dislike what she approves, and that instead of treating her like a goddess, he uses her like a woman. What still makes the misfortune worse, we find the most abject flatterers degenerate into the greatest tyrants. This naturally fills the spouse with sullenness and discontent, spleen and vapour, which, with a little discreet management, make a very comfortable marriage. I very much approve of my friend Tom Truelove in this particular. Tom made love to

a woman of sense, and always treated her as such during the whole time of courtship. His natural temper and good breeding hindered him from doing any thing disagreeable, as his sincerity and frankness of behaviour made him converse with her, before marriage, in the same manner he intended to continue to do afterwards. Tom would often tell her, Madam, you see what a sort of man I am. If you will take me with all my faults about me, I promise to mend rather than grow worse.' I remember Tom was once hinting his dislike of some little trifle his mistress had said or done. Upon which she asked him, how he would talk to her after marriage, if he talked at this rate before? No, Madam,' says Tom, 'I mention this now because you are at your own disposal; were you at mine I should be too generous to do it.' In short, Tom succeeded, and has ever since been better than his word. The lady has been disappointed on the right side, and has found nothing more disagreeable in the husband than she discovered in the lover°.

No. 114. WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 1713.*

Alveos accipite, et ceris opus infundite :
Fuci recusant, apibus conditio placet.

PHÆDR. 3. Fab. xiii. 9.

Take the hives, and empty your work into the combs ;
The drones refuse, the bees accept the proposal.

P

I THINK myself obliged to acquaint the public that the lion's head, of which I advertised them about a

* ADDISON'S.

• See No. 147; paragr. 2. Frank Foresight.

P This paper, No. 113. is distinguished by Addison's signature in the Guardian, a hand; and it is likewise reprinted by Mr. Tickell, in his edition of Addison's Works,' 4to. vol. iv. p. 182. edit. 1721.

fortnight ago, is now erected at Button's coffee-house in Russel-street, Covent-garden, where it opens its mouth at all hours for the reception of such intelligence as shall be thrown into it. It is reckoned an excellent piece of workmanship, and was designed by a great hand in imitation of the antique Egyptian lion, the face of it being compounded out of that of a lion and a wizard. The features are strong and well furrowed. The whiskers are admired by all that have seen them. It is planted on the western side of the coffee-house, holding its paws under the chin upon a box, which contains every thing that he swallows. He is indeed a proper emblem of knowledge and action, being all head and paws. I need not acquaint my readers, that my lion, like a moth', or book-worm, feeds upon nothing but paper, and shall only beg of them to diet him with wholesome and substantial food. I must therefore desire that they will not gorge him either with nonsense or obscenity; and must likewise insist, that his mouth be not defiled with scandal, for I would not make use of him to revile the human species, and satirise those who are his betters. I shall not suffer him to worry any man's reputation, nor indeed fall on any person whatsoever, such only excepted as disgrace the name of this generous animal, and under the title of lions contrive the ruin of their fellow-subjects. I must desire likewise, that intriguers will not make a pimp of my lion, and by his means convey their thoughts to one another. Those who are read in the history of the popes, observe that the Leos have been the best, and the Innocents the worst of that species, and I hope that I shall not be thought to derogate q See No. 98. and note ad finem. r Moths don't feed upon paper. A.