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No. 473.  Tuesday, September 2, 1712.  Steele.

  ’Quid? si quis vultu torvo ferus et pede nudo
  Exiguaeque togae simulet textore Catonem;
  Virtutemne repraesentet moresque Catonis?’

  Hor.

  To the SPECTATOR.

  SIR,

I am now in the Country, and employ most of my Time in reading, or thinking upon what I have read.  Your paper comes constantly down to me, and it affects me so much, that I find my Thoughts run into your Way; and I recommend to you a Subject upon which you have not yet touched, and that is the Satisfaction some Men seem to take in their Imperfections, I think one may call it glorying in their Insufficiency; a certain great Author is of Opinion it is the contrary to Envy, tho perhaps it may proceed from it.  Nothing is so common, as to hear Men of this Sort, speaking of themselves, add to their own Merit (as they think) by impairing it, in praising themselves for their Defects, freely allowing they commit some few frivolous Errors, in order to be esteemed persons of uncommon Talents and great Qualifications.  They are generally professing an injudicious Neglect of Dancing, Fencing and Riding, as also an unjust Contempt for Travelling and the Modern Languages; as for their Part (say they) they never valued or troubled their Head about them.  This panegyrical Satyr on themselves certainly is worthy of your Animadversion.  I have known one of these Gentlemen think himself obliged to forget the Day of an Appointment, and sometimes even that you spoke to him; and when you see em, they hope youll pardon ’em, for they have the worst Memory in the World.  One of em started up tother Day in some Confusion, and said, Now I think on’t, I’m to meet Mr. Mortmain the Attorney about some Business, but whether it is to Day or to Morrow, faith, I can’t tell.  Now to my certain Knowledge he knew his Time to a Moment, and was there accordingly.  These forgetful Persons have, to heighten their Crime, generally the best Memories of any People, as I have found out by their remembring sometimes through Inadvertency.  Two or three of em that I know can say most of our modern Tragedies by Heart.  I asked a Gentleman the other Day that is famous for a Good Carver, (at which Acquisition he is out of Countenance, imagining it may detract from some of his more essential Qualifications) to help me to something that was near him; but he excused himself, and blushing told me, Of all things he could never carve in his Life; though it can be proved upon him, that he cuts up, disjoints, and uncases with incomparable Dexterity.  I would not be understood as if I thought it laudable for a Man of Quality and Fortune to rival the Aquisitions of Artificers, and endeavour to excel in little handy Qualities; No, I argue only against being ashamed at what is really Praiseworthy.  As these Pretences to Ingenuity shew themselves