"Mr. Bickerstaff, "Chancery Lane, February 27, 1709.
"Your notice in the advertisement in your Tatler of Saturday last[133] about 'whetters' in and about the Royal Exchange, is mightily taken notice of by gentlemen who use the coffee-houses near the Chancery office in Chancery Lane; and there being a particular certain set of both young and old gentlemen that belong to and near adjoining to the Chancery office, both in Chancery Lane and Bell Yard, that are not only 'whetters' all the morning long, but very musically given about twelve at night the same days, and mightily taken with the union of the dulcimer, violin, and song; at which recreation they rejoice together with perfect harmony, however their clients disagree: you are humbly desired by several gentlemen to give some regulation concerning them; in which you will contribute to the repose of us, who are
"Your very humble Servants,
"L. T., N. F., T. W."
These "whetters" are a people I have considered with much pains, and find them to differ from a sect I have heretofore spoken of, called "snuff-takers,"[134] only in the expedition they take in destroying their brains: the "whetter" is obliged to refresh himself every moment with a liquor, as the "snuff-taker" with a powder. As for their harmony in the evening, I have nothing to object, provided they remove to Wapping or the Bridge-Foot,[135] where it is not to be supposed that their vociferations will annoy the studious, the busy, or the contemplative. I once had lodgings in Gray's Inn, where we had two hard students, who learned to play upon the hautboy; and I had a couple of chamber fellows over my head not less diligent in the practice of backsword and single-rapier. I remember these gentlemen were assigned by the benchers the two houses at the end of the Terrace Walk, as the only places fit for their meditations. Such students as will let none improve but themselves, ought indeed to have their proper distances from societies.
The gentlemen of loud mirth above mentioned I take to be, in the quality of their crime, the same as eavesdroppers; for they who will be in your company whether you will or no, are to as great a degree offenders, as they who hearken to what passes without being of your company at all. The ancient punishment for the latter, when I first came to this town, was the blanket, which I humbly conceive may be as justly applied to him that bawls, as to him that listens. It is therefore provided for the future, that (except in the Long Vacation) no retainers to the law, with dulcimer, violin, or any other instrument, in any tavern within a furlong of an inn of court, shall sing any tune, or pretended tune whatsoever, upon pain of the blanket, to be administered according to the discretion of all such peaceable people as shall be within the annoyance. And it is further directed, that all clerks who shall offend in this kind shall forfeit their indentures, and be turned over as assistants to the clerks of parishes within the bills of mortality, who are hereby empowered to demand them accordingly.
I am not to omit the receipt of the following letter, with a nightcap, from my valentine;[136] which nightcap I find was finished in the year 1588, and is too finely wrought to be of any modern stitching. Its antiquity will better appear by my valentine's own words:
"Sir,
"Since you are pleased to accept of so mean a present as a nightcap from your valentine, I have sent you one, which I do assure you has been very much esteemed of in our family; for my great-grandmother's daughter who worked it, was maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, and had the misfortune to lose her life by pricking her finger in the making of it, of which she bled to death, as her tomb now at Westminster will show: for which reason, myself, nor none of my family, have loved work ever since; otherwise you should have had one as you desired, made by the hands of,
"Sir,
"Your affectionate
"Valentine."