es of the world, before the invention of jointures and
settlements, when the noble passion of love had possession of the hearts
of men, and the fair sex were not yet cultivated into the merciful
disposition which they have showed in latter centuries, it was natural
for great and heroic spirits to retire to rivulets, woods, and caves, to
lament their destiny, and the cruelty of the fair persons who were deaf
to their lamentations. The hero in this distress was generally in
armour, and in a readiness to fight any man he met with, especially if
distinguished by any extraordinary qualifications, it being the nature
of heroic love to hate all merit, lest it should come within the
observation of the cruel one, by whom its own perfections are neglected.
A lover of this kind had always about him a person of a second value,
and subordinate to him, who could hear his afflictions, carry an
enchantment for his wounds, hold his helmet when he was eating (if ever
he did eat); or in his absence, when he was retired to his apartment in
any king's palace, tell the prince himself, or perhaps his daughter, the
birth, parentage, and adventures, of his valiant master. This trusty
companion was styled his esquire, and was always fit for any offices
about him; was as gentle and chaste as a gentleman usher, quick and
active as an equerry, smooth and eloquent as a master of the ceremonies.
A man thus qualified was the first, as the ancients affirm, who was
called an esquire; and none without these accomplishments ought to
assume our order: but, to the utter disgrace and confusion of the
heralds, every pretender is admitted into this fraternity, even persons
the most foreign to this courteous institution. I have taken an
inventory of all within this city, and looked over every letter in the
post-office for my better information. There are of the Middle Temple,
including all in the buttery books, and in the lists of the house, 5000.
In the Inner, 4000. In the King's Bench Walks, the whole buildings are
inhabited by esquires only. The adjacent street of Essex, from Morris'
Coffee-house, and the turning towards the Grecian, you cannot meet one
who is not an esquire, till you take water. Every house in Norfolk and
Arundel Streets is governed also by a squire, or his lady. Soho Square,
Bloomsbury Square, and all other places where the floors rise above nine
feet, are so many universities, where you enter yourselves, and become
of our order. However, if