The next visit Spectator paid to the Abbey was in the company of Sir Roger de Coverley, his own creation, that gentleman of ancient descent, whose "singularities proceeded from his good sense, and were contradictions to the manners of the world only as he thought the world was in the wrong," and who was such a great lover of mankind, with such a mirthful cast in his behaviour, so cheerful, gay, and hearty, that "his tenants grew rich, his servants were satisfied, all young women professed love to him, and the young men were glad of his company." The squire was now spending one of his frequent visits to London, and informed the Spectator that having read his paper on Westminster Abbey, he should like to go there with him, never having visited the tombs since he read history. "As we went up the body of the church, the knight pointed at the trophies on one of the new monuments, and cried out, ’A brave man! I warrant him!’ Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesley Shovel, he flung his head that way, and cried, ’Sir Cloudesley Shovel, a very gallant man!’ As we stood before Busby’s tomb the knight uttered himself again after the same manner. ’Doctor Busby, a great man! He whipped my grandfather; I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead. A very great man!’ Among several other figures he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon his knees.... Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his hand upon Edward III.’s sword, and leaning upon the pommel of it gave us the whole history of the Black Prince, concluding that, in Sir Richard Baker’s opinion, Edward III. was one of the greatest princes that ever sat upon the English throne. We were then shown Edward the Confessor’s tomb, upon which Sir Roger acquainted us that he was the first who touched for the evil, and afterwards Henry IV.’s, upon which he shook his head, and told us there was fine reading in the casualties of that reign. Our conductor then pointed to that monument where there is the figure of one of our English kings without a head, and upon giving us to know that the head, which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away years before, ’Some Whig, I warrant you!’ says Sir Roger. ’You ought to lock your kings up better. They will carry off the body, too, if you don’t take care!’ The glorious names of Queen Elizabeth and Henry V. gave the knight great opportunities of shining. For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the knight show such an honest passion for the glory of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the memory of its princes." Addison died when under fifty years of age, and the story goes that in his last moments he sent for young Lord Warwick, his stepson. "Dear sir," said the lad, "any commands you may give me, I shall hold most sacred." "See in what peace a Christian can die," answered the older man tenderly.