From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His fancy of a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuff-box. Old lady Faddle promises me her woman to cut my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp. Twelve o'clock at night. Went to bed. Friday. Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny. Ten o'clock. Stayed within all day; not at home. From ten to twelve. In conference with my mantua-maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke my blue china cup. From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber; practised lady Betty Modeley's skuttle. One in the afternoon. Called for my flowered handkerchief. Worked half a violet-leaf in it. Eyes ached, and head out of order. Threw by my work, and read over the remaining part of Aurengzebe. From three to four. Dined. From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation. Mrs. Brilliant's necklace false stones. Old lady Loveday going to be married to a young fellow that is not worth a groat. Miss Prue gone into the country. Tom Townley has red hair. Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear that she had something to tell me about Mr. Froth; I am sure it is not true. Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my feet, and called me Indamora. Saturday. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. Sat down to my toilette. From eight to nine. Shifted a patch for half an hour before I could determine. Fixed it above my left eye-brow. From nine to twelve. Drank my tea and dressed. From twelve to two. At Chapel. A great deal of good company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully. From three to four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the opera before I was risen from table. From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a footman for being rude to Veny. Six o'clock. Went to the opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the beginning of the second act. Mr. Froth talked to a gentleman in a black wig. Bowed to a lady in the front box. Mr. Froth and his friend clapped Nicolini in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my chair. I think he squeezed my hand. Eleven at night. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth. Sunday. Indisposed. Monday. Eight o'clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurengzebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty repeated without book the eight best lines in the play. Went in our mobs to the dumb man, according to appointment. Told me that my lover's name began with a G. Mem. The conjurer was within a letter of Mr. Froth's name, &c. Upon looking back into this my journal, I find that I am at a loss to know whether I pass my time well or ill; and, indeed, never thought of considering how I did it before I perused your speculation upon that subject. I scarce find a single action in these five days that I can thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the violetleaf, which I am resolved to finish the first day I am at leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not think they took up so much of my time and thoughts as I find they do upon my journal. The latter of them I will turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life run away in a dream. Your humble servant, 'CLARINDA.' To resume one of the morals of my first paper, and to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty figure she would make among posterity, were the history of her whole life published like these five days of it. I shall conclude my paper with an epitaph, written by an uncertain author, on sir Philip Sidney's sister, a lady who seems to have been of a temper very much different from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon me the quotation. On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke. L. No. 324. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12. By Steele and others. O curvæ in terris animæ, et cælestium inanes! * PER. O souls, in whom no heav'nly fire is found, MR. SPECTATOR, 'THE materials you have collected together towards a general history of clubs (a) makes so bright a part of your speculations, that I think it is but a justice we all owe the learned world to furnish you with such assistance as may promote that useful work. For this reason, I could not forbear communicating to you some imperfect informations of a set of men (if you will allow them a place in that species of being) who have lately erected themselves into a nocturnal fraternity, under the title of the Mohock club; a name borrowed, it seems, from a sort of cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the nations about them. The president is styled Emperor of the Mohocks, (b) and his arms are a Turkish crescent, which his imperial majesty bears at present in a very extraordinary man. ner engraven upon his forehead. Agreeable to their name, the avowed design of their institution is mischief, and upon this foundation all their rules and orders are framed. An outrageous ambition of doing all possible hurt to their fellow-creatures is the great cement of their assembly, and the only qualification required in the members. In order to exert this principle in its full strength and perfection, they take care to drink themselves to a pitch that is beyond the possibility of attending to any motions of reason or humanity; then make a general sally, and attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the streets through which they patrole. Some are knocked down, others stabbed, others cut and carbonadoed. To put the watch to a total rout, and mortify some of those inoffensive militia, is reckoned a coup d'eclat. The particular talents by which these misanthropes are distinguished from one another, consist in the various kinds of barbarities which they execute upon their prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy dexterity in tipping the lion upon them; which is performed by squeezing the nose flat to the face, and boring out the eyes with their fingers: others are called the dancing masters, and teach their scholars to cut capers, by running swords through their legs; a new invention, whether originally French I can not tell: a third sort are the tumblers, whose office it is to set women on their heads, and commit certain indecencies, or rather barbarities, on the limbs which they expose; but these I forbear to mention, because they can not but be very shocking to the reader as well as the Spectator. In this manner they carry on a war against mankind; and by the standing maxims of their policy, are to enter into no alliances but one, and that is offensive and defensive with all bawdyhouses in general, of which they have declared themselves protectors and guarantees. 'I must own, sir, these are only broken incoherent memoirs of this wonderful society, but they are the best I have been yet able to procure; for being but of late established, it is not ripe for a just history; and, to be serious, the chief design |