With Ned Smuggle all is a secret.  He believes himself watched by observation and malignity on every side, and rejoices in the dexterity by which he has escaped snares that never were laid.  Ned holds that a man is never deceived if he never trusts, and, therefore, will not tell the name of his tailor or his hatter.  He rides out every morning for the air, and pleases himself with thinking that nobody knows where he has been.  When he dines with a friend, he never goes to his house the nearest way, but walks up a by-street to perplex the scent.  When he has a coach called, he never tells him at the door the true place to which he is going, but stops him in the way that he may give him directions where nobody can hear him.  The price of what he buys or sells is always concealed.  He often takes lodgings in the country by a wrong name, and thinks that the world is wondering where he can be hid.  All these transactions he registers in a book, which, he says, will some time or other amaze posterity.

It is remarked by Bacon, that many men try to procure reputation only by objections, of which, if they are once admitted, the nullity never appears, because the design is laid aside.  “This false feint of wisdom,” says he, “is the ruin of business.”  The whole power of cunning is privative; to say nothing, and to do nothing, is the utmost of its reach.  Yet men thus narrow by nature, and mean by art, are sometimes able to rise by the miscarriages of bravery and the openness of integrity; and by watching failures and snatching opportunities, obtain advantages which belong properly to higher characters.

No. 93.  SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 1760.

Sam Softly was bred a sugar-baker; but succeeding to a considerable estate on the death of his elder brother, he retired early from business, married a fortune, and settled in a country-house near Kentish-town, Sam, who formerly was a sportsman, and in his apprenticeship used to frequent Barnet races, keeps a high chaise, with a brace of seasoned geldings.  During the summer months, the principal passion and employment of Sam’s life is to visit, in this vehicle, the most eminent seats of the nobility and gentry in different parts of the kingdom, with his wife and some select friends.  By these periodical excursions Sam gratifies many important purposes.  He assists the several pregnancies of his wife; he shows his chaise to the best advantage; he indulges his insatiable curiosity for finery, which, since he has turned gentleman, has grown upon him to an extraordinary degree; he discovers taste and spirit, and, what is above all, he finds frequent opportunities of displaying to the party, at every house he sees, his knowledge of family connexion.  At first, Sam was contented with driving a friend between London and his villa.  Here he prided himself in pointing out the boxes of the citizens on each side of the road, with an accurate detail of their respective failures or successes in trade; and harangued