Wagers depending between him and some of his Companions, who are rich enough to hold an Argument with him.  He has five Guineas upon Questions in Geography, two that the Isle of Wight is a Peninsula, and three Guineas to one that the World is round.  We have a Gentleman comes to our Coffee-house, who deals mightily in Antique Scandal; my Disputant has laid him twenty Pieces upon a Point of History, to wit, that Caesar never lay with Cato’s Sister, as is scandalously reported by some People.

There are several of this sort of Fellows in Town, who wager themselves into Statesmen, Historians, Geographers, Mathematicians, and every other Art, when the Persons with whom they talk have not Wealth equal to their Learning.  I beg of you to prevent, in these Youngsters, this compendious Way to Wisdom, which costs other People so much Time and Pains, and you will oblige

  Your humble Servant.

  Coffee-House near the Temple, Aug. 12, 1711.

  Mr.  SPECTATOR,

’Here’s a young Gentleman that sings Opera-Tunes or Whistles in a full House.  Pray let him know that he has no Right to act here as if he were in an empty Room.  Be pleased to divide the Spaces of a Publick Room, and certify Whistlers, Singers, and Common Orators, that are heard further than their Portion of the Room comes [to,] that the Law is open, and that there is an Equity which will relieve us from such as interrupt us in our Lawful Discourse, as much as against such as stop us on the Road.  I take these Persons, Mr. SPECTATOR, to be such Trespassers as the Officer in your Stage-Coach, and of the same Sentiment with Counsellor Ephraim.  It is true the Young Man is rich, and, as the Vulgar say, [needs [1]] not care for any Body; but sure that is no Authority for him to go whistle where he pleases.

  I am, SIR, Your Most Humble Servant,

  P.S. I have Chambers in the Temple, and here are Students that
  learn upon the Hautboy; pray desire the Benchers that all Lawyers who
  are Proficients in Wind-Musick may lodge to the Thames.

  Mr.  SPECTATOR,

We are a Company of young Women who pass our Time very much together, and obliged by the mercenary Humour of the Men to be as Mercenarily inclined as they are.  There visits among us an old Batchelor whom each of us has a Mind to.  The Fellow is rich, and knows he may have any of us, therefore is particular to none, but excessively ill-bred.  His Pleasantry consists in Romping, he snatches Kisses by Surprize, puts his Hand in our Necks, tears our Fans, robs us of Ribbons, forces Letters out of our Hands, looks into any of our Papers, and a thousand other Rudenesses.  Now what I’ll desire of you is to acquaint him, by Printing this, that if he does not marry one of us very suddenly, we have all agreed, the next time he pretends to be merry, to affront him, and use him like a Clown as he is.  In the Name of the Sisterhood I take my Leave of you, and am, as they all are,

  Your Constant Reader and Well-wisher.