White's Chocolate-house, June 29.

I know no manner of news for this place, but that Cynthio, having been long in despair for the inexorable Clarissa, lately resolved to fall in love the good old way of bargain and sale, and has pitched upon a very agreeable young woman.[357] He will undoubtedly succeed; for he accosts her in a strain of familiarity, without breaking through the deference that is due to woman whom a man would choose for his life. I have hardly ever heard rough truth spoken with a better grace than in this his letter.[358]

"MADAM,

"I writ to you on Saturday by Mrs. Lucy, and give you this trouble to urge the same request I made then, which was, that I may be admitted to wait upon you. I should be very far from desiring this, if it were a transgression of the most severe rules to allow it: I know you are very much above the little arts which are frequent in your sex, of giving unnecessary torments to their admirers; therefore hope, you'll do so much justice to the generous passion I have for you, as to let me have an opportunity of acquainting you upon what motives I pretend to your good opinion. I shall not trouble you with my sentiments, till I know how they will be received; and as I know no reason why difference of sex should make our language to each other differ from the ordinary rules of right reason, I shall affect plainness and sincerity in my discourse to you, as much as other lovers do perplexity and rapture. Instead of saying, 'I shall die for you,' I profess I should be glad to lead my life with you: you are as beautiful, as witty, as prudent, and as good-humoured, as any woman breathing; but I must confess to you, I regard all these excellences as you will please to direct them, for my happiness or misery. With me, madam, the only lasting motive to love is the hope of its becoming mutual. I beg of you to let Mrs. Lucy send me word when I may attend you. I promise you, I'll talk of nothing but indifferent things; though at the same time I know not how I shall approach you in the tender moment of first seeing you, after this declaration, of,

"Madam,

"Your most obedient,

"And most faithful

"Humble Servant, &c."

Will's Coffee-house, June 29.

Having taken a resolution when plays are acted next winter by an entire good company, to publish observations from time to time on the performance of the actors, I think it but just to give an abstract of the law of action, for the help of the less learned part of the audience, that they may rationally enjoy so refined and instructive a pleasure as a just representation of human life. The great errors in playing are admirably well exposed in Hamlet's direction to the actors[359] who are to play in his supposed tragedy; by which we shall form our future judgments on their behaviour, and for that reason you have the discourse as follows:

"Speak the speech as I pronounce it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lieve the town-crier had spoke my lines: nor do not saw the air too much with your hand thus; but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh! it offends me to the soul, to see a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I could have such a fellow whipped for overdoing termagant: it out-Herods Herod. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you overstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone, is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold as it were the mirror up to Nature; to show Virtue her own feature; scorn her own image; and the very age and body of the time its form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve. The censures of which one, must, in your allowance, oversway a whole theatre of others. Oh! there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly (not to speak it profanely), that neither having the accent of Christian, Pagan, or Norman, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. This should be reformed altogether; and let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them: for there be of them that will of themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though in the meantime, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered; that is villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it."

From my own Apartment, June 29.

It would be a very great obligation, and an assistance to my treatise upon Punning,[360] if any one would please to inform in what class, among the learned who play with words, to place the author of the following letter.[361]

"Sir,

"Not long since you were pleased to give us a chimerical account of the famous family of Staffs,[362] from whence I suppose you would insinuate, that it is the most ancient and numerous house in all Europe. But I positively deny that it is either; and wonder much at your audacious proceedings in this matter, since it is well known, that our most illustrious, most renowned, and most celebrated Roman family of Ix, has enjoyed the precedency to all others from the reign of good old Saturn. I could say much to the defamation and disgrace of your family; as, that your relations Distaff and Broomstaff were both inconsiderate mean persons, one spinning, the other sweeping the streets, for their daily bread. But I forbear to vent my spleen on objects so much beneath my indignation. I shall only give the world a catalogue of my ancestors, and leave them to determine which hath hitherto had, and which for the future ought to have, the preference.

"First then comes the most famous and popular Lady Meretrix, parent of the fertile family of Bellatrix, Lotrix, Netrix, Nutrix, Obstetrix, Famulatrix, Coctrix, Ornatrix, Sarcinatrix, Fextrix, Balneatrix, Portatrix, Saltatrix, Divinatrix, Conjectrix, Comtrix, Debitrix, Creditrix, Donatrix, Ambulatrix, Mercatrix, Adsectrix, Assectatrix, Palpatrix, Praeceptrix, Pistrix.

"I am yours,

"ELIZ. POTATRIX."

St. James's Coffee-house, June 29.

Letters from Brussels of the 2nd of July, N.S., say, that the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene having received advice, that the Marshal Villars had drawn a considerable body out of the garrison of Tournay to reinforce his army, marched towards that place, and came before it early in the morning of the 27th. As soon as they came into that ground, the Prince of Nassau was sent with a strong detachment to take post at St. Amand; and at the same time my Lord Orkney received orders to possess himself of Mortagne; both which were successfully executed; whereby we are masters of the Scheldt and the Scarp. Eight men were drawn out of each troop of dragoons and company of foot in the garrison of Tournay, to make up the reinforcement which was ordered to join Marshal Villars; but upon advice that the Allies were marching towards Tournay, they endeavoured to return into the town; but were intercepted by the Earl of Orkney, by whom that whole body was killed or taken. These letters add, that 1200 dragoons (each horseman carrying a foot-soldier behind him) were detached from Mons to throw themselves into Tournay; but upon appearance of a great body of horse of the Allies, retired towards Conde. We hear, that the garrison does not consist of more than 3500 men. Of the sixty battalions designed to be employed in this siege, seven [sic] are English, viz., two of Guards, and the regiments of Argyle, Temple, Evans and Meredith.



[Footnote 355: See Nos. 79, 140; and Swift's "Journal to Stella," Nov. 3, 1711. A correspondent begged the Spectator (No. 344) to "take notice of an impertinent custom the women, the fine women, have lately fallen into, of taking snuff."]

[Footnote 356: It has been suggested that Steele here alludes to Mrs. De la Riviere Manley.]

[Footnote 357: Lord Hinchinbroke married Elizabeth, only daughter of Alexander Popham, Esq. See Nos. 1, 5, 22.]

[Footnote 358: This was one of Steele's own letters to Miss Scurlock. (See "Correspondence," 1809, vol. i. p. 93.) "Mrs. Lucy" is "Mrs. Warren" in the original.]

[Footnote 359: "Hamlet," act iii. sc. 2.]

[Footnote 360: See No. 32.]

[Footnote 361: This letter is printed in Scott's edition of Swift's works.]

[Footnote 362: See No. II.]



No. 36. [? STEELE.[363]

By Mrs. JENNY DISTAFF, half-sister to Mr. BICKERSTAFF.

From Thursday, June 30, to Saturday, July 2, 1709.

* * * * *

From our own Apartment, June 30.

Many affairs calling my brother into the country, the care of our intelligence with the town is left to me for some time; therefore you must expect the advices you meet with in this paper to be such as more immediately and naturally fall under the consideration of our sex: history therefore written by a woman, you will easily imagine to consist of love in all its forms, both in the abuse of, and obedience to that passion. As to the faculty of writing itself, it will not, it is hoped, be demanded, that style and ornament shall be so much consulted, as truth and simplicity; which latter qualities we may more justly pretend to beyond the other sex. While therefore the administration of our affairs is in my hands, you shall from time to time have an exact account of all false lovers, and their shallow pretences for breaking off; of all termagant wives who make wedlock a yoke; of men who affect the entertainments and manners suitable only to our sex, and women who pretend to the conduct of such affairs as are only within the province of men. It is necessary further to advertise the reader, that the usual places of resort being utterly out of my province or observation, I shall be obliged frequently to change the dates of places, as occurrences come into my way. The following letter I lately received from Epsom.[364]

Epsom, June 28.

"It is now almost three weeks since what you writ about happened in this place: the quarrel between my friends did not run so high as I find your accounts have made it. The truth of the fact you shall have very faithfully. You are to understand, that the persons concerned in this scene were, Lady Autumn, and Lady Springly:[365] Autumn is a person of good breeding, formality, and a singular way practised in the last age; and Lady Springly, a modern impertinent of our sex, who affects as improper familiarity, as the other does distance. Lady Autumn knows to a hair's-breadth where her place is in all assemblies and conversations; but Springly neither gives nor takes place of anybody, but understands the place to signify no more, than to have room enough to be at ease wherever she comes. Thus while Autumn takes the whole of this life to consist in understanding punctilio and decorum, Springly takes everything to be becoming which contributes to her ease and satisfaction. These heroines have married two brothers, both knights. Springly is the spouse of the elder, who is a baronet; and Autumn, being a rich widow, has taken the younger, and her purse endowed him with an equal fortune and knighthood of the same order. This jumble of titles, you need not doubt, has been an aching torment to Autumn, who took place of the other on no pretence, but her carelessness and disregard of distinction. This secret occasion of envy broiled long in the breast of Autumn; but no opportunity of contention on that subject happening, kept all things quiet till the accident, of which you demand an account.

"It was given out among all the gay people of this place, that on the 9th instant several damsels, swift of foot, were to run for a suit of head-clothes at the Old Wells. Lady Autumn on this occasion invited Springly to go with her in her coach to see the race. When they came to the place where the governor of Epsom and all his court of citizens were assembled, as well as a crowd of people of all orders, a brisk young fellow addresses himself to the younger of the ladies, viz., Springly, and offers her his service to conduct her into the music-room. Springly accepts the compliment, and is led triumphantly through the bowing crowd, while Autumn is left among the rabble, and has much ado to get back into her coach; but she did it at last: and as it is usual to see by the horses my lady's present disposition, she orders John to whip furiously home to her husband; where, when she enters, down she sits, began to unpin her hood, and lament her foolish fond heart to marry into a family where she was so little regarded, she that might—Here she stops; then rises up and stamps, and sits down again. Her gentle knight made his approaches with a supple beseeching gesture. 'My dear,' said he—'Tell me no dears,' replied Autumn; in the presence of the governor and all the merchants; 'What will the world say of a woman that has thrown herself away at this rate?' Sir Thomas withdrew, and knew it would not be long a secret to him; as well as that experience told him, he that marries a fortune, is of course guilty of all faults against his wife, let them be committed by whom they will. But Springly, an hour or two after, returns from the Wells, and finds the whole company together. Down she sat, and a profound silence ensued. You know a premeditated quarrel usually begins and works up with the words, 'Some people.' The silence was broken by Lady Autumn, who began to say, 'There are some people who fancy, that if some people—' Springly immediately takes her up; 'There are some people who fancy, if other people—' Autumn repartees, 'People may give themselves airs; but other people, perhaps, who make less ado, may be, perhaps, as agreeable as people who set themselves out more.' All the other people at the table sat mute, while these two people, who were quarrelling, went on with the use of the word 'people,' instancing the very accidents between them, as if they kept only in distant hints. 'Therefore,' says Autumn, reddening, 'there are some people who will go abroad in other people's coaches, and leave those, with whom they went, to shift for themselves; and if, perhaps, those people have married the younger brother, yet, perhaps, he may be beholden to those people for what he is.' Springly smartly answers, 'People may bring so much ill humour into a family, as people may repent their receiving their money'; and goes on—'Everybody is not considerable enough to give her uneasiness.' Upon this, Autumn comes up to her, and desired her to kiss her, and never to see her again; which her sister refusing, my lady gave her a box on the ear. Springly returns; 'Ay, ay,' said she, 'I knew well enough you meant me by your "some people,"' and gives her another on the other side. To it they went with most masculine fury: each husband ran in. The wives immediately fell upon their husbands, and tore periwigs and cravats. The company interposed; when (according to the slip-knot of matrimony, which makes them return to one another when any put in between) the ladies and their husbands fell upon all the rest of the company; and having beat all their friends and relations out of the house, came to themselves time enough to know, there was no bearing the jest of the place after these adventures, and therefore marched off the next day. It is said, the governor has sent several joints of mutton, and has proposed divers dishes very exquisitely dressed, to bring them down again. From his address and knowledge in roast and boiled, all our hopes of the return of this good company depend. I am,

"Dear Jenny,

"Your ready Friend

"And Servant,

"MARTHA TATLER."

White's Chocolate-house, June 30.

This day appeared here a figure of a person, whose services to the fair sex have reduced him to a kind of existence, for which there is no name. If there be a condition between life and death, without being absolutely dead or living, his state is that. His aspect and complexion in his robust days gave him the illustrious title of Africanus:[366] but it is not only from the warm climates in which he has served, nor from the disasters which he has suffered, that he deserves the same appellation with that renowned Roman; but the magnanimity with which he appears in his last moments, is what gives him the undoubted character of Hero. Cato stabbed himself, and Hannibal drank poison; but our Africanus lives in the continual puncture of aching bones and poisoned juices. The old heroes fled from torments by death, and this modern lives in death and torments, with a heart wholly bent upon a supply for remaining in them. An ordinary spirit would sink under his oppressions; but he makes an advantage of his very sorrow, and raises an income from his diseases. Long has this worthy been conversant in bartering, and knows, that when stocks are lowest, it is the time to buy. Therefore, with much prudence and tranquillity, he thinks, that now he has not a bone sound, but a thousand nodous parts for which the anatomists have not words, and more diseases than the College ever heard of, it is the only time to purchase an annuity for life. Sir Thomas[367] told me, it was an entertainment more surprising and pleasant than can be imagined, to see an inhabitant of neither world without hand to lift, or leg to move, scarce tongue to utter his meaning, so keen upon biting the whole world, and making bubbles at his exit. Sir Thomas added, that he would have bought twelve shillings a year of him, but that he feared there was some trick in it, and believed him already dead: "What!" says that knight, "is Mr. Partridge, whom I met just now going on both his legs firmer than I can, allowed to be quite dead; and shall Africanus, without one limb that can do its office, be pronounced alive?" What heightened the tragi-comedy of this market for annuities was, that the observation of it provoked Monoculus[368] (who is the most eloquent of all men) to many excellent reflections, which he spoke with the vehemence and language both of a gamester and an orator. "When I cast," said that delightful speaker, "my eye upon thee, thou unaccountable Africanus, I cannot but call myself as unaccountable as thou art; for certainly we were born to show what contradictions nature is pleased to form in the same species. Here am I, able to eat, to drink, to sleep, and do all acts of nature, except begetting my like; and yet by an unintelligible force of spleen and fancy, I every moment imagine I am dying. It is utter madness in thee to provide for supper; for I'll bet you ten to one, you don't live till half an hour after four; and yet I am so distracted as to be in fear every moment, though I'll lay ten to three, I drink three pints of burnt claret at your funeral three nights hence. After all, I envy thee; thou who dying hast no sense of death, art happier than one in health that[369] always fears it." The knight had gone on, but that a third man ended the scene by applauding the knight's eloquence and philosophy, in a laughter too violent for his own constitution, as much as he mocked that of Africanus and Monoculus.

St. James's Coffee-house, July 1.

This day arrived three mails from Holland, with advices relating to the posture of affairs in the Low Countries, which say, that the Confederate army extends from Luchin, on the causeway between Tournay and Lisle, to Epain near Mortagne on the Scheldt. The Marshal Villars remains in his camp at Lens; but it is said, he detached ten thousand men under the command of the Chevalier de Luxembourg, with orders to form a camp at Crepin on the Haine, between Conde and St. Guillain, where he is to be joined by the Elector of Bavaria with a body of troops, and after their conjunction, to attempt to march into Brabant. But they write from Brussels, that the Duke of Marlborough having it equally in his power to make detachments to the same parts, they are under no apprehensions from these reports for the safety of their country. They further add from Brussels, that they have good authority for believing that the French troops under the conduct of Marshal de Bezons are retiring out of Spain.[370]



[Footnote 363: Nichols argued that this and the two following numbers were by Addison. (1) At the end of No. 37 there is a list of errata for the preceding number. It was Addison's frequent practice to make verbal alterations in a preceding paper, and this Steele never did, except in rare cases, or where there was a positive mistake. (2) All the three papers are superscribed, as Addison's often were, and appear upon the face of them, to be of the nature, and in the number of those, for which Steele stood sponsor, and was very patiently traduced and calumniated, as he acknowledges to Congreve, in the Dedication prefixed to "The Drummer." There is nothing in the style or manner of any of the three that appears incongruous with such a supposition; and the nature of their principal contents seems to support it. They consist chiefly of pleasantries and oblique strokes, apparently on persons of fashion, in that age, of both sexes. It appears from the Dedication to "The Drummer," that Steele had Addison's direct injunctions to hide papers which he never did declare to be Addison's. The case, in short, seems to be, that as, as Steele says, there are communications in the course of this work, which Addison's modesty, so there are likewise others, which Addison's prudence, "would never have admitted to come into daylight, but under such a shelter." According to the usual rule where there is uncertainty, Steele's name is placed at the head of the papers in this edition. Probably he was responsible in any case for part of the contents of each of these numbers.]

[Footnote 364: Epsom was frequented for its mineral waters, and was also a favourite holiday resort. "At the Crown Coffee-house, behind the Royal Exchange, fresh Epsom water, with the rest of the purging waters, at 2d. per quart, and sold both winter and summer, and Epsom salt." (See "British Apollo," vol. iii. No. 15, 1710, and "Post Man," June 11, 1700.) "The New Wells at Epsom, with variety of raffling-shops, a billiard-table, and a bowling-green, and attended with a new set of music, are now open," &c. (Flying Post, Aug. 4-6, 1709.) The new Wells were opened on Easter Monday, 1709 (Daily Courant, April 23, 1709). We can form some idea of Epsom some years before, with its wells and bowling-green, from Shadwell's play, "Epsom Wells," 1673. See also No. 7.]

[Footnote 365: On July 8, 1709, Peter Wentworth wrote to Lord Raby: "I have not sent you the Tatler of last Saturday, because I was told 'twas dull, but that persons judgement I shall take no more; for having since read it I think it diverting enough, the news from Epsom is almost matter of fact, wch makes the jest the better; the Ladys are city ladys, named Turners" ("Wentworth Papers," p. 93). This is confirmed by the MS. annotator mentioned in No. 4.]

[Footnote 366: "I like the description of Africanus, wch is Sir Scipio Hill ... Sir Scipio Hill with his new project of getting money occasions some diversion and talk at White's. You may have heard for this long while he was dieing of the ——; he now come abroad and look a divel, or at least a sad memento mori. He gives forescore guineas to receive ten guineas a quarter for his life, Sir James of the Peak is his agent, and runs about offering it all that will take. Boscowen has took it, and two or three more, who are of opinion he will not live a month. Those he had made his heirs does not approve of this whim, for he's resolved to dispose of all his ready money this way if he can find substantial fools enough to take it; but the crack begins to run as if he may live a great while for all he looks so ill, for he has recovered his voice to a miracle" (Peter Wentworth to Lord Raby, July 1 and 8, 1709; "Wentworth Papers," pp. 92-3).]

[Footnote 367: The waiter. See No. 16.]

[Footnote 368: Said to be Sir Humphrey Monoux, Bart., who was elected M.P. for Tavistock in 1728, and for Stockbridge in 1734. He succeeded to the baronetage in 1707, and died without issue in 1757.]

[Footnote 369: "Thou that hast no sense of death, art happier than one that" (folio; altered in Errata in No. 37).]

[Footnote 370: "This paper, with a blank leaf to write business on, may be had of J. Morphew, near Stationers'-hall" (folio).]



No. 37. [?STEELE.[371]

From Saturday, July 2, to Tuesday, July 5, 1709.

* * * * *

White's Chocolate-house, July 2.

It may be thought very unaccountable, that I,[372] who can never be supposed to go to White's, should pretend to talk to you of matters proper for, or in the style of, that place. But though I do not go to these public haunts, I receive visits from those who do; and for all they pretend so much to the contrary, they are as talkative as our sex, and as much at a loss to entertain the present company, without sacrificing the last, as we ourselves. This reflection has led me into the consideration of the use of speech; and made me look over in my memory all my acquaintance of both sexes, to know to which I may more justly impute the sin of superfluous discourse, with regard to conversation, and not entering into it as it respects religion. I foresee my acquaintance will immediately, upon starting this subject, ask me, how I shall celebrate Mrs. Alse Copswood,[373] the Yorkshire huntress, who is come to town lately, and moves as if she were on her nag, and going to take a five-bar gate; and is as loud as if she were following her dogs. I can easily answer that; for she is as soft as Damon, in comparison of her brother-in-law Tom Bellfrey,[374] who is the most accomplished man in this kingdom for all gentlemanlike activities and accomplishments. It is allowed, that he is a professed enemy to the Italian performers in music. But then for our own native manner, according to the customs and known usages of our island, he is to be preferred, for the generality of the pleasure he bestows, much above those fellows,[375] though they sing to full theatres. For what is a theatrical voice to that of a fox-hunter? I have been at a musical entertainment in an open field, where it amazed me to hear to what pitches the chief masters would reach. There was a meeting near our seat in Staffordshire, and the most eminent of all the counties of England were at it. How wonderful was the harmony between men and dogs! Robin Cartail of Bucks was to answer to Jowler; Mr. Tinbreast of Cornwall was appointed to open with Sweetlips, and Beau Slimber, a Londoner, undertook to keep up with Trips, a whelp just set in: Tom Bellfrey and Ringwood were coupled together, to fill the cry on all occasions, and be in at the death of the fox, hare, or stag; for which both the dog and the man were excellently suited, and loved one another, and were as much together as Banister and King. When Jowler first alarmed the field, Cartail repeated every note; Sweetlips' treble succeeded, and shook the wood; Tinbreast echoed a quarter of a mile beyond it. We were soon after all at a loss, till we rid up, and found Trips and Slimber at a default in half-notes: but the day and the tune was recovered by Tom Bellfrey and Ringwood, to the great joy of us all, though they drowned every other voice: for Bellfrey carries a note four furlongs, three rood, and six paces, farther than any other in England. But I fear the mention of this will be thought a digression from my purpose about speech: but I answer, No. Since this is used where speech rather should be employed, it may come into consideration in the same chapter: for Mr. Bellfrey being at a visit where I was, viz., his cousin's (Lady Dainty's) in Soho, was asked, what entertainments they had in the country? Now Bellfrey is very ignorant, and much a clown; but confident withal. In a word, he struck up a fox-chase: Lady Dainty's dog, Mr. Sippet, as she calls him, started and jumped out of his lady's lap, and fell a barking. Bellfrey went on, and called all the neighbouring parishes into the square. Never was woman in such confusion as that delicate lady. But there was no stopping her kinsman. A room full of ladies fell into the most violent laughter: my lady looked as if she was shrieking; Mr. Sippet in the middle of the room, breaking his heart with barking, but all of us unheard. As soon as Bellfrey became silent, up gets my lady, and takes him by the arm to lead him off: Bellfrey was in his boots. As she was hurrying him away, his spurs takes hold of her petticoat; his whip throws down a cabinet of china: he cries, "What! are your crocks rotten? Are your petticoats ragged? A man can't walk in your house for trincums." Every county of Great Britain has one hundred or more of this sort of fellows, who roar instead of speaking. Therefore if it be true, that we women are also given to greater fluency of words than is necessary, sure one that disturbs but a room or a family is more to be tolerated, than one who draws together parishes and counties, and sometimes (with an estate that might make him the blessing and ornament of the world around him) has no other view and ambition, but to be an animal above dogs and horses, without the relish of any one enjoyment, which is peculiar to the faculties of human nature. But I know it will here be said, that talking of mere country squires at this rate, is, as it were, to write against Valentine or Orson. To prove anything against the race of men, you must take them as they are adorned with education, as they live in Courts, or have received instructions in colleges.

But I was so full of my late entertainment by Mr. Bellfrey, that I must defer pursuing this subject to another day; and waive the proper observations upon the different offenders in this kind, some by profound eloquence, on small occasions, others by degrading speech upon great circumstances. Expect therefore to hear of the whisperer without business, the laugher without wit, the complainer without receiving injuries, and a very large crowd, which I shall not forestall, who are common (though not commonly observed) impertinents, whose tongues are too voluble for their brains, and are the general despisers of us women, though we have their superiors, the men of sense, for our servants.[376]

St. James's Coffee-house, July 4.

There has arrived no mail since our last; so that we have no manner of foreign news, except we were to give you, for such, the many speculations which are on foot concerning what was imported by the last advices. There are, it seems, sixty battalions and seventeen squadrons appointed to serve in the siege of Tournay; the garrison of which place consists but of eleven battalions and four squadrons. Letters of the 29th of the last month from Berlin have brought advice, that the Kings of Denmark, Prussia, and his Majesty Augustus, were within few days to come to an interview at Potsdam. These letters mention, that two Polish princes of the family of the Sapicha and Lubermirsky, lately arrived from Paris, confirm the reports of the misery in France for want of provisions, and give a particular instance of it, which is, that on the day Monsieur Rouille returned to Court, the common people gathered in crowds about the Dauphin's coach, crying, "Peace and bread, bread and peace."

Mrs. Distaff has taken upon her, while she writes this paper, to turn her thoughts wholly to the service of her own sex, and to propose remedies against the greatest vexations attending female life. She has for this end written a small treatise concerning the second word, with an appendix on the use of a reply, very useful to all such as are married to persons either ill-bred or ill-natured. There is in this tract a digression for the use of virgins concerning the words, "I will."

A gentlewoman who has a very delicate ear, wants a maid who can whisper, and help her in the government of her family. If the said servant can clear-starch, lisp, and tread softly, she shall have suitable encouragement in her wages.



[Footnote 371: See note to No. 36.]

[Footnote 372: Jenny Distaff.]

[Footnote 373: The Jacobite Archbishop of York, Dr. John Sharpe, who died in 1713. See Examiner, vol. iv. No. 22.]

[Footnote 374: Dr. Blackall (1654-1716), who was made Bishop of Exeter in 1708.]

[Footnote 375: The French Prophets, from the Cevennes. Dr. Blackall's sermon against them was printed by order of the Queen.]

[Footnote 376: The following article appeared only in the folio issue:—

Will's Coffee-house, July 3.

A very ingenious gentleman was complaining this evening, that the players are grown so severe critics, that they would not take in his play, though it has as many fine things in it as any play that has been writ since the days of Dryden. He began his discourse about his play with a preface.

"There is," said he, "somewhat (however we palliate it) in the very frame and make of us, that subjects our minds to chagrin and irresolution on any emergency of time or place. The difficulty grows on our sickened imagination, under all the killing circumstances of danger and disappointment. This we see, not only in the men of retirement and fancy, but in the characters of the men of action; with this only difference, the coward sees the danger, and sickens under it; the hero, warmed by the difficulty, dilates, and rises in proportion to that, and in some sort makes use of his very fears to disarm it. A remarkable instance of this we have in the great Caesar, when he came to the Rubicon, and was entering upon a part, perhaps, the most hazardous he ever bore (certainly the most ungrateful), a war with his countrymen. When his mind brooded over personal affronts, perhaps his anger burned with a desire of revenge. But when more serious reflections laid before him the hazard of the enterprise, with the dismal consequences which were likely to attend it, aggravated by a special circumstance, What figure it would bear in the world, or how be excused to posterity. What shall he do?—His honour, which was his religion, bids him arm; and he sounds the inclinations of his party, by this set speech:

CAESAR to his Party at the Rubicon.

Great Jove, attend, and thou my native soil, Safe in my triumphs, glutted in my spoil; Witness with what reluctance I oppose My arms to thine, secure of other foes. What passive breast can bear disgrace like mine? Traitor!—For this I conquered on the Rhine, Endured their ten years' drudgery in Gaul, Adjourned their fate, and saved the Capitol. I grew by every guilty triumph less; The crowd, when drunk with joy, their souls express, Impatient of the war, yet fear success. Brave actions dazzle with too bright a ray, Like birds obscene they chatter at the day; Giddy with rule, and valiant in debate, They throw the die of war, to save the state; And gods! to gild ingratitude with fame, Assume the patriot's, we the rebel's name. Farewell, my friends, your general forlorn, To your bare pity, and the public scorn, Must lay that honour and his laurel down, To serve the vain caprices of the gown; Exposed to all indignities, the brave Deserve of those they gloried but to save, To rods and axes!—No, the slaves can't dare Play with my grief, and tempt my last despair. This shall the honours which it won maintain, Or do me justice, ere I hug my chain."

The reason for cancelling this article when these papers were republished in octavo, is obvious; for, being printed by Steele, it would naturally be applied to the circumstances in which the Duke of Marlborough was at that time: "The Duke having his commission under the Great Seal, the order of the Queen was not sufficient to dissolve his power. His friends advised him to assemble, by his authority as general, all the troops in London, in the different squares, and to take possession of St. James's, and the person of the Queen. Oxford, apprised of this design, suddenly called together the Cabinet Council. Though he probably concealed his intelligence to prevent their fears, he told them of the necessity of superseding Marlborough under the Great Seal. This business was soon despatched. His dismission in form was sent to the Duke. The Earl of Oxford, no stranger to the character of Marlborough, knew that he would not act against law, by assembling the troops. The natural diffidence of his disposition had made him unfit for enterprises of danger, in a degree that furnished his enemies with insinuations against his personal courage."—(Macpherson's "State Papers," quoted by Nichols.)]



No. 38. [?STEELE.[377]

From Tuesday, July 5, to Thursday, July 7, 1709.

* * * * *

From my own Apartment, July 6.

I find among my brother's papers the following letter verbatim, which I wonder how he could suppress so long as he has, since it was sent him for no other end, but to show the good effect his writings have already had upon the ill customs of the age.

"London, June 23.

"SIR,

"The end of all public papers ought to be the benefit and instruction, as well as the diversion of the readers: to which I see none so truly conducive as your late performances; especially those tending to the rooting out from amongst us that unchristianlike and bloody custom of duelling; which, that you have already in some measure performed, will appear to the public in the following no less true than heroic story.

"A noble gentleman of this city, who has the honour of serving his country as major in the train-bands, being at that general mart of stockjobbers called Jonathan's,[378] endeavouring to raise himself (as all men of honour ought) to the degree of colonel at least; it happened that he bought the 'bear'[379] of another officer, who, though not commissioned in the army, yet no less eminently serves the public than the other, in raising the credit of the kingdom, by raising that of the stocks. However, having sold the 'bear,' and words arising about the delivery, the most noble major, no less scorning to be outwitted in the coffee-house, than to run into the field, according to method, abused the other with the titles of, 'rogue,' 'villain,' 'bearskin-man,' and the like. Whereupon satisfaction was demanded, and accepted: so, forth the major marched, commanding his adversary to follow. To a most spacious room in the sheriff's house, near the place of quarrel, they come; where, having due regard to what you have lately published, they resolved not to shed one another's blood in that barbarous manner you prohibited; yet, not willing to put up affronts without satisfaction, they stripped, and in decent manner fought full fairly with their wrathful hands. The combat lasted a quarter of an hour; in which time victory was often doubtful, and many a dry blow was strenuously laid on by each side, till the major finding his adversary obstinate, unwilling to give him further chastisement, with most shrill voice cried out, 'I am satisfied, enough.' Whereupon the combat ceased, and both were friends immediately.

"Thus the world may see, how necessary it is to encourage those men who make it their business to instruct the people in everything necessary for their preservation. I am informed, a body of worthy citizens have agreed on an address of thanks to you for what you have writ on the foregoing subject, whereby they acknowledge one of their highly esteemed officers preserved from death.

"Your humble Servant,

"A. B."

I fear the word "bear" is hardly to be understood among the polite people; but I take the meaning to be, that one who ensures a real value upon an imaginary thing, is said to sell a "bear," and is the same thing as a promise among courtiers, or a vow between lovers. I have writ to my brother to hasten to town; and hope, that printing the letters directed to him, which I knew not how to answer, will bring him speedily; and therefore I add also the following:

"July 5, 1709.

"MR. BICKERSTAFF,

You having hinted a generous intention of taking under your consideration the whisperers without business, and laughers without occasion; as you tender the welfare of your country, I entreat you not to forget or delay so public-spirited a work. Now or never is the time. Many other calamities may cease with the war; but I dismally dread the multiplication of these mortals under the ease and luxuriousness of a settled peace, half the blessing of which may be destroyed by them. Their mistake lies certainly here, in a wretched belief, that their mimicry passes for real business, or true wit. Dear sir, convince them, that it never was, is, or ever will be, either of them; nor ever did, does, or to all futurity ever can, look like either of them; but that it is the most cursed disturbance in nature, which is possible to be inflicted on mankind, under the noble definition of a sociable creature. In doing this, sir, you will oblige more humble servants than can find room to subscribe their names."

White's Chocolate-house, July 6.

In pursuance of my last date from hence, I am to proceed on the accounts I promised of several personages among the men, whose conspicuous fortunes, or ambition in showing their follies, have exalted them above their fellows: the levity of their minds is visible in their every word and gesture, and there is not a day passes but puts me in mind of Mr. Wycherley's character of a coxcomb: "He is ugly all over with the affectation of the fine gentleman." Now though the women may put on softness in their looks, or affected severity, or impertinent gaiety, or pert smartness, their self-love and admiration cannot, under any of these disguises, appear so invincible as that of the men. You may easily take notice, that in all their actions there is a secret approbation, either in the tone of their voice, the turn of their body, or cast of their eye, which shows that they are extremely in their own favour. Take one of your men of business, he shall keep you half an hour with your hat off, entertaining you with his consideration of that affair you spoke of to him last, till he has drawn a crowd that observes you in this grimace. Then when he is public enough, he immediately runs into secrets, and falls a whispering. You and he make breaks with adverbs; as, "But however, thus far"; and then you whisper again, and so on, till they who are about you are dispersed, and your busy man's vanity is no longer gratified by the notice taken of what importance he is, and how inconsiderable you are; for your pretender to business is never in secret, but in public. There is my dear Lord Nowhere, of all men the most gracious and most obliging, the terror of all valets-de-chambre, whom he oppresses with good breeding, in inquiring for my good lord, and for my good lady's health. This inimitable courtier will whisper a privy councillor's lackey with the utmost goodness and condescension, to know when they next sit; and is thoroughly taken up, and thinks he has a part in a secret, if he knows that there is a secret. "What it is," he will whisper you, "that time will discover"; then he shrugs, and calls you back again—"Sir, I need not say to you, that these things are not to be spoken of—and hark you, no names, I would not be quoted." What adds to the jest is, that his emptiness has its moods and seasons, and he will not condescend to let you into these his discoveries, except he is in very good humour, or has seen somebody in fashion talk to you. He will keep his nothing to himself, and pass by and overlook as well as the best of them; not observing that he is insolent when he is gracious, and obliging when he is haughty. Show me a woman so inconsiderable as this frequent character. But my mind (now I am in) turns to many no less observable: thou dear Will Shoestring![380] I profess myself in love with thee: how shall I speak thee? How shall I address thee? How shall I draw thee? Thou dear outside! Will you be combing your wig,[381] playing with your box, or picking your teeth? Or choosest thou rather to be speaking; to be speaking for thy only purpose in speaking, to show your teeth? Rub them no longer, dear Shoestring: do not premeditate murder: do not for ever whiten: Oh! that for my quiet and his own they were rotten. But I will forget him, and give my hand to the courteous Umbra; he is a fine man indeed, but the soft creature bows below my apron-string before he takes it; but after the first ceremonies, he is as familiar as my physician, and his insignificancy makes me half ready to complain to him of all I would to my doctor. But he is so courteous, that he carries half the messages of ladies' ails in town to their midwives and nurses. He understands too the art of medicine as far as to the cure of a pimple or a rash. On occasions of the like importance, he is the most assiduous of all men living, in consulting and searching precedents from family to family; and then he speaks of his obsequiousness and diligence in the style of real services. If you sneer at him, and thank him for his great friendship, he bows, and says, "Madam, all the good offices in my power, while I have any knowledge or credit, shall be at your service." The consideration of so shallow a being, and the intent application with which he pursues trifles, has made me carefully reflect upon that sort of men we usually call an Impertinent: and I am, upon mature deliberation, so far from being offended with him, that I am really obliged to him; for though he will take you aside, and talk half an hour to you upon matters wholly insignificant with the most solemn air, yet I consider, that these things are of weight in his imagination, and he thinks he is communicating what is for my service. If therefore it be a just rule to judge of a man by his intention, according to the equity of good breeding, he that is impertinently kind or wise, to do you service, ought in return to have a proportionable place both in your affection and esteem; so that the courteous Umbra deserves the favour of all his acquaintance; for though he never served them, he is ever willing to do it, and believes he does it. But as impotent kindness is to be returned with all our abilities to oblige, so impotent malice is to be treated with all our force to depress it. For this reason Flyblow (who is received in all the families in town through the degeneracy and iniquity of their manners) is to be treated like a knave, though he is one of the weakest of fools: he has by rote, and at second-hand, all that can be said of any man of figure, wit, and virtue in town. Name a man of worth, and this creature tells you the worst passage of his life. Speak of a beautiful woman, and this puppy will whisper the next man to him, though he has nothing to say of her. He is a Fly that feeds on the sore part, and would have nothing to live on, if the whole body were in health. You may know him by the frequency of pronouncing the particle "but"; for which reason I never hear him spoke of with common charity, without using my "but" against him: for a friend of mine saying the other day, Mrs. Distaff has wit, good humour, virtue, and friendship, this oaf added, "'But' she is not handsome." Coxcomb! The gentleman was saying what I was, not what I was not.

St. James's Coffee-house, July 6.

The approaches before Tournay have been carried on with great success; and our advices from the camp before that place of the 11th instant say, that they had already made a lodgment on the glacis. Two hundred boats were come up the Scheldt with a heavy artillery and ammunition, which would be employed in dismounting the enemy's defences, and raised on the batteries the 15th. A great body of miners are summoned to the camp to countermine the works of the enemy. We are convinced of the weakness of the garrison, by a certain account, that they called a council of war, to consult whether it was not advisable to march into the citadel, and leave the town defenceless. We are assured, that when the Confederate army was advancing towards the camp of Marshal Villars, that general despatched a courier to his master with a letter, giving an account of their approach, which concluded with the following words: "The day begins to break, and your Majesty's army is already in order of battle. Before noon, I hope to have the honour of congratulating your Majesty on the success of a great action; and you shall be very well satisfied with the Marshal Villars."

It is to be noted, that when any part of this paper appears dull, there is a design in it.[382]



[Footnote 377: See note to No. 36.]

[Footnote 378: A coffee-house in Change Alley. See Spectator, No. 1, and Mrs. Centlivre's "Bold Stroke for a Wife."]

[Footnote 379: See No. 7.]

[Footnote 380: Sir William Whitlocke, Knt., Member for Oxon, Bencher of the Middle Temple. He is the learned knight mentioned in No. 43 (Percy). This is confirmed by the MS. annotator mentioned in a note to No. 4. Nichols explains that Whitlocke is called Will Shoestring, for his singularity in using shoe-strings, so long after the era of shoe-buckles, which commenced in the reign of Charles II., although ordinary people, and such as affected plainness in their garb, wore strings in their shoes after that time.]

[Footnote 381: "Combing the peruke, at the time when men of fashion wore large wigs, was even at public places an act of gallantry. The combs, for this purpose, were of a very large size, of ivory or tortoise-shell, curiously chased and ornamented, and were carried in the pocket as constantly as the snuff-box. At Court, on the Mall, and in the boxes, gentlemen conversed and combed their perukes "(Sir John Hawkins' "Hist, of Music," vol. iv. p. 447, note). Cf. Dryden's prologue to "Almanzor and Almahide":—

"But as when vizard mask appears in pit, Straight every man who thinks himself a wit, Perks up; and managing his comb with grace, With his white wig sets off his nut-brown face."

And "The Fortune Hunters," act i. sc. 2 (1689): "He looked, indeed, and sighed, and set his cravat-string, and sighed again, and combed his periwig: sighed a third time, and then took snuff, I guess to show the whiteness of his hand." See, too, Wycherley's "Love in a Wood," act iii. sc. 1:—

"DAPPERWIT. Let me prune and flounce my perruque a little for her; there's ne'er a young fellow in the town but will do as much for a mere stranger in the play-house.

"RANGER. A wit's wig has the privilege of being uncombed in the very play-house, or in the presence—

"DAPPERWIT. But not in the presence of his mistress; 'tis a greater neglect of her than himself; pray lend me your comb.... She comes, she comes; pray, your comb. (Snatches RANGER'S comb.)"]

[Footnote 382: "Mrs. Distaff hath received the Dialogue dated Monday evening, which she has sent forward to Mr. Bickerstaff at Maidenhead: and in the meantime gives her service to the parties" (folio).]



No. 39. [STEELE.

By ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq.

From Thursday, July 7, to Saturday, July 9, 1709.

* * * * *

Grecian Coffee-house, July 7.

As I am called forth by the immense love I bear to my fellow creatures, and the warm inclination I feel within me, to stem, as far as I can, the prevailing torrent of vice and ignorance; so I cannot more properly pursue that noble impulse, than by setting forth the excellence of virtue and knowledge in their native and beautiful colours. For this reason I made my late excursion to Oxford, where those qualities appear in their highest lustre, and are the only pretences to honour and distinction: superiority is there given in proportion to men's advancement in wisdom and learning; and that just rule of life is so universally received among those happy people, that you shall see an earl walk bareheaded to the son of the meanest artificer, in respect to seven years more worth and knowledge than the nobleman is possessed of. In other places they bow to men's fortunes, but here to their understandings. It is not to be expressed, how pleasing the order, the discipline, the regularity of their lives, is to a philosopher, who has, by many years' experience in the world, learned to contemn everything but what is revered in this mansion of select and well-taught spirits. The magnificence of their palaces, the greatness of their revenues, the sweetness of their groves and retirements, seem equally adapted for the residence of princes and philosophers; and a familiarity with objects of splendour, as well as places of recess, prepares the inhabitants with an equanimity for their future fortunes, whether humble or illustrious. How was I pleased when I looked round at St. Mary's, and could, in the faces of the ingenious youth, see ministers of state, chancellors, bishops, and judges. Here only is human life! Here only the life of man is a rational being! Here men understand and are employed in works worthy their noble nature. This transitory being passes away in an employment not unworthy a future state, the contemplation of the great decrees of Providence. Each man lives as if he were to answer the questions made to Job, "Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?... Who shut up the sea with doors, ... and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further?"[383] Such speculations make life agreeable, make death welcome, But alas! I was torn from this noble society by the business of this dirty mean world, and the cares of fortune: for I was obliged to be in town against the 7th day of the term, and accordingly governed myself by my Oxford Almanack, and came last night; but find, to my great astonishment, that this ignorant town began the term on the 24th of the last month, in opposition to all the learning and astronomy of the famous university of which I have been speaking; according to which, the term certainly was to commence on the 1st instant.[384] You may be sure, a man who has turned his studies as I have, could not be mistaken in point of time; for knowing I was to come to town in term, I examined the passing moments very narrowly, and called an eminent astronomer to my assistance. Upon very strict observation we found, that the cold has been so severe this last winter (which is allowed to have a benumbing quality), that it retarded the earth in moving round from Christmas to this season full seven days and two seconds. My learned friend assured me further, that the earth had lately received a shog from a comet that crossed its vortex, which, if it had come ten degrees nearer us, had made us lose this whole term. I was indeed once of opinion, that the Gregorian computation was the most regular, as being eleven days before the Julian; but am now fully convinced, that we ought to be seven days after the chancellor and judges, and eighteen before the Pope of Rome; and that the Oxonian computation is the best of the three. These are the reasons which I have gathered from philosophy and nature; to which I can add other circumstances in vindication of the account of this learned body who published this almanack. It is notorious to philosophers, that joy and grief can hasten and delay time. Mr. Locke is of opinion, that a man in great misery may so far lose his measure, as to think a minute an hour; or in joy, make an hour a minute. Let us examine the present case by this rule, and we shall find, that the cause of this general mistake in the British nation, has been the great success of the last campaign, and the following hopes of peace. Stocks ran so high at the 'Change, that the citizens had gained three days of the courtiers; and we have indeed been so happy this reign, that if the University did not rectify our mistakes, we should think ourselves but in the second year of her present Majesty. It would be endless to enumerate the many damages that have happened by this ignorance of the vulgar. All the recognisances within the Diocese of Oxford have been forfeited, for not appearing on the first day of this fictitious term. The University has been nonsuited in their action against the booksellers for printing Clarendon in quarto. But indeed what gives me the most quick concern, is the case of a poor gentleman my friend, who was the other day taken in execution by a set of ignorant bailiffs. He should, it seems, have pleaded in the first week of term; but being a Master of Arts of Oxford, he would not recede from the Oxonian computation. He showed Mr. Broad the almanack, and the very day when the term began; but the merciless ignorant fellow, against all sense and learning, would hurry him away. He went indeed quietly enough; but he has taken exact notes of the time of arrest, and sufficient witnesses of his being carried into gaol; and has, by advice of the Recorder of Oxford, brought his action; and we doubt not but we shall pay them off with damages, and blemish the reputation of Mr. Broad. We have one convincing proof, which all that frequent the Courts of Justice are witnesses of: the dog that comes constantly to Westminster on the first day of the term, did not appear till the first day according to the Oxford Almanack; whose instinct I take to be a better guide than men's erroneous opinions, which are usually biased by interest. I judge in this case, as King Charles II. victualled his navy, with the bread which one of his dogs chose of several pieces thrown before him, rather than trust to the asseverations of the victuallers. Mr. Cowper,[385] and other learned counsel, have already urged the authority of this almanack, in behalf of their clients. We shall therefore go on with all speed in our cause; and doubt not, but Chancery will give at the end what we lost in the beginning, by protracting the term for us till Wednesday come se'nnight: and the University orator shall for ever pray, &c.

From my own Apartment, July 7.

The subject of duels[386] has, I find, been started with so good success, that it has been the frequent subject of conversation among polite men; and a dialogue of that kind has been transmitted to me verbatim, as follows. The persons concerned in it are men of honour, and experience in the manners of men, and have fallen upon the truest foundation, as well as searched the bottom, of this evil.

Mr. SAGE. If it were in my power, every man that drew his sword, unless in the Service, or purely to defend his life, person, or goods, from violence (I mean abstracted from all punctos or whims of honour) should ride the wooden horse in the Tilt Yard[387] for such first offence, for the second stand in the pillory, and for the third be prisoner in Bedlam for life.

Col. PLUME. I remember, that a rencounter or duel was so far from being in fashion among the officers that served in the Parliament army, that on the contrary, it was as disreputable, and as great an impediment to advancement in the Service, as being bashful in time of action.

Sir MARK. Yet I have been informed by some old Cavaliers, of famous reputation for brave and gallant men, that they were much more in mode among their party, than they have been during this last war.

Col. PLUME. That is true too, sir. Mr. SAGE. By what you say, gentlemen, one should think that our present military officers are compounded of an equal proportion of both those tempers; since duels are neither quite discountenanced, nor much in vogue.

Sir MARK. That difference of temper, in regard to duels, which appears to have been between the Court and Parliament-men of the sword, was not (I conceive) for want of courage in the latter, nor of a liberal education; because there were some of the best families in England engaged in that party; but gallantry and mode, which glitter agreeably to the imagination, were encouraged by the Court, as promoting its splendour; and it was as natural that the contrary party (who were to recommend themselves to the public for men of serious and solid parts) should deviate from everything chimerical.

Mr. SAGE. I have never read of a duel among the Romans; and yet their nobility used more liberty with their tongues than one may do now without being challenged.

Sir MARK. Perhaps the Romans were of opinion, that ill language, and brutal manners, reflected only on those who were guilty of them; and that a man's reputation was not at all cleared by cutting the person's throat who had reflected upon it: but the custom of those times had fixed the scandal in the action; whereas now it lies in the reproach.

Mr. SAGE. And yet the only sort of duel that one can conceive to have been fought upon motives truly honourable and allowable, was that between the Horatii and Curiatii.

Sir MARK. Colonel Plume, pray what was the method of single combat in your time among the Cavaliers? I suppose, that as the use of clothes continues, though the fashion of them has been mutable; so duels, though still in use, have had in all times their particular modes of performance.

Col. PLUME. We had no constant rule, but generally conducted our dispute and tilt according to the last that had happened between persons of reputation among the very top fellows for bravery and gallantry.

Sir MARK. If the fashion of quarrelling and tilting was so often changed in your time, Colonel Plume, a man might fight, yet lose his credit for want of understanding the fashion.

Col. PLUME. Why, Sir Mark, in the beginning of July, a man would have been censured for want of courage, or been thought indigent of the true notions of honour, if he had put up [with] words, which in the end of September following, one could not resent without passing for a brutal and quarrelsome fellow.

Sir MARK. But, Colonel, were duels or rencounters most in fashion in those days?

Col. PLUME. Your men of nice honour, sir, were for avoiding all censure of advantage which they supposed might be taken in a rencounter; therefore they used seconds, who were to see that all was upon the square, and make a faithful report of the whole combat; but in a little time it became a fashion for the seconds to fight, and I'll tell you how it happened.

Mr. SAGE. Pray do, Colonel Plume, and the method of a duel at that time, and give us some notion of the punctos upon which your nice men quarrelled in those days.

Col. PLUME. I was going to tell you, Mr. Sage, that one Cornet Modish had desired his friend, Captain Smart's, opinion in some affair, but did not follow it; upon which Captain Smart sent Major Adroit (a very topping fellow of those times) to the person that had slighted his advice. The Major never inquired into the quarrel, because it was not the manner then among the very topping fellows; but got two swords of an equal length, and then waited upon Cornet Modish, desiring him to choose his sword, and meet his friend Captain Smart. Cornet Modish came with his friend to the place of combat; there the principals put on their pumps, and stripped to their shirts, to show they had nothing but what men of honour carry about them, and then engaged.

Sir MARK. And did the seconds stand by, sir?

Col. PLUME. It was a received custom till that time; but the swords of those days being pretty long, and the principals acting on both sides upon the defensive, and the morning being frosty, Major Adroit desired that the other second, who was also a very topping fellow, would try a thrust or two only to keep them warm, till the principals had decided the matter, which was agreed to by Modish's second, who presently whipped Adroit through the body, disarmed him, and then parted the principals, who had received no harm at all.

Mr. SAGE. But was not Adroit laughed at?

Col. PLUME. On the contrary, the very topping fellows were ever after of opinion, that no man who deserved that character, could serve as a second, without fighting; and the Smarts and Modishes finding their account in it, the humour took without opposition.

Mr. SAGE. Pray, Colonel, how long did that fashion continue?

Col. PLUME, Not long neither, Mr. Sage; for as soon as it became a fashion, the very topping fellows thought their honour reflected upon, if they did not proffer themselves as seconds when any of their friends had a quarrel; so that sometimes there were a dozen of a side.

Sir MARK. Bless me! If that custom had continued, we should have been at a loss now for our very pretty fellows; for they seem to be the proper men to officer, animate, and keep up an army: but, pray, sir, how did that sociable manner of tilting grow out of mode?

Col. PLUME. Why, sir, I'll tell you; it was a law among the combatants, that the party which happened to have the first man disarmed or killed, should yield as vanquished; which some people thought might encourage the Modishes and Smarts in quarrelling, to the destruction of only the very topping fellows; and as soon as this reflection was started, the very topping fellows thought it an incumbrance upon their honour to fight at all themselves. Since that time, the Modishes and the Smarts, throughout all Europe, have extolled the French king's edict.

Sir MARK. Our very pretty fellows, whom I take to be the successors of the very topping fellows, think a quarrel so little fashionable, that they will not be exposed to it by another man's vanity, or want of sense.

Mr. SAGE. But, Colonel, I have observed in your account of duels, that there was a great exactness in avoiding all advantage that might possibly be between the combatants.

Col. PLUME. That's true, sir; for the weapons were always equal.

Mr. SAGE. Yes, sir; but suppose an active, adroit, strong man, had insulted an awkward, or a feeble, or an unpractised swordsman.

Col. PLUME. Then, sir, they fought with pistols.

Mr. SAGE. But, sir, there might be a certain advantage that way; for a good marksman will be sure to hit his man at twenty yards distance; and a man whose hand shakes (which is common to men that debauch in pleasures, or have not used pistols out of their holsters) won't venture to fire, unless he touches the person he shoots at. Now, sir, I am of opinion, that one can get no honour in killing a man (if one has it all rug,[388] as the gamesters say), when they have a trick to make the game secure, though they seem to play upon the square.

Sir MARK. In truth, Mr. Sage, I think such a fact must be murder in a man's own private conscience, whatever it may appear to the world.

Col. PLUME. I have known some men so nice, that they would not fight but upon a cloak without pistols.

Mr. SAGE. I believe a custom, well established, would outdo the Grand Monarch's edict.[389]

Sir MARK. And bullies would then leave off their long swords; but I don't find that a very pretty fellow can stay to change his sword, when he is insulted by a bully with a long diego,[390] though his own at the same time be no longer than a penknife; which will certainly be the case, if such little swords are in mode. Pray, Colonel, how was it between the hectors of your time and the very topping fellows?

Col. PLUME. Sir, long swords happened to be generally worn in those times.

Mr. SAGE. In answer to what you were saying, Sir Mark, give me leave to inform you, that your knights-errant (who were the very pretty fellows of those ancient times) thought they could not honourably yield, though they had fought their own trusty weapons to the stumps; but would venture as boldly with the page's leaden sword, as if it had been of enchanted metal. Whence I conceive, there must be a spice of romantic gallantry in the composition of that very pretty fellow.

Sir MARK. I am of opinion, Mr. Sage, that fashion governs a very pretty fellow; nature, or common sense, your ordinary persons, and sometimes men of fine parts.

Mr. SAGE. But what is the reason, that men of the most excellent sense and morals (in other points) associate their understandings with the very pretty fellows in that chimaera of a duel?

Sir MARK. There's no disputing against so great a majority.

Mr. SAGE. But there is one scruple (Colonel Plume) and I have done: don't you believe there may be some advantage even upon a cloak with pistols, which a man of nice honour would scruple to take?

Col. PLUME. Faith, I can't tell, sir; but since one may reasonably suppose, that (in such a case) there can be but one so far in the wrong as to occasion matters to come to that extremity, I think the chance of being killed should fall but on one; whereas by their close and desperate manner of fighting, it may very probably happen to both.

Sir MARK. Why, gentlemen, if they are men of such nice honour (and must fight), there will be no fear of foul play, if they threw up cross or pile[391] who should be shot.



[Footnote 383: Job xxxviii. 4, 8, 11.]

[Footnote 384: There was a difference between the University terms and the Law terms.]

[Footnote 385: Spencer Cowper (1669-1727), brother of Earl Cowper, and afterwards a judge of the Common Pleas. He was one of the managers of the impeachment of Sacheverell in 1710.]

[Footnote 386: See Nos. 25, 26, 29, 31, 38, 205.]

[Footnote 387: At Whitehall.]

[Footnote 388: Cf. "Wentworth Papers," p. 394: "June 29, 1714. The changes at Court does not go so rug as some people expected and gave out, that 'twas to be all intire Tory with the least seeming mixture of Whigs."]

[Footnote 389: See Spectator, No. 97.]

[Footnote 390: A sword. Don Diego was a familiar name for a Spaniard with both English and French writers in the seventeenth century. San Diego is a corruption of Santiago (St. James), the patron saint of Spain.]

[Footnote 391: A pillar, the design on one side of a coin, bearing on the other a cross. Swift says, "This I humbly conceive to be perfect boys' play; cross, I win, and pile, you lose."]



No. 40. [STEELE.

From Saturday, July 9, to Tuesday, July 12, 1709.

* * * * *

Will's Coffee-house, July 11.

Letters from the city of London give an account of a very great consternation that place is in at present, by reason of a late inquiry made at Guildhall, whether a noble person[392] has parts enough to deserve the enjoyment of the great estate of which he is possessed. The city is apprehensive that this precedent may go further than was at first imagined. The person against whom this inquisition is set up by his relations, is a peer of a neighbouring kingdom, and has in his youth made some few bulls, by which it is insinuated, that he has forfeited his goods and chattels. This is the more astonishing, in that there are many persons in the said city who are still more guilty than his lordship, and who, though they are idiots, do not only possess, but have also themselves acquired great estates, contrary to the known laws of this realm, which vests their possessions in the Crown. There is a gentleman of this coffee-house at this time exhibiting a bill in Chancery against his father's younger brother, who by some strange magic has arrived at the value of half a plum, as the citizens call a hundred thousand pounds; and in all the time of growing up to that wealth, was never known in any of his ordinary words or actions to discover any proof of reason. Upon this foundation my friend has set forth, that he is illegally master of his coffers, and has writ two epigrams to signify his own pretensions and sufficiency for spending that estate. He has inserted in his plea some things which I fear will give offence; for he pretends to argue, that though a man has a little of the knave mixed with the fool, he is nevertheless liable to the loss of goods; and makes the abuse of reason as just an avoidance of an estate as the total absence of it. This is what can never pass; but witty men are so full of themselves, that there is no persuading them; and my friend will not be convinced, but that upon quoting Solomon, who always used the word "fool" as a term of the same signification with "unjust," and makes all deviation from goodness and virtue to come under the notion of folly—I say, he doubts not, but by the force of this authority, let his idiot uncle appear never so great a knave, he shall prove him a fool at the same time. This affair led the company here into an examination of these points; and none coming here but wits, what was asserted by a young lawyer, that a lunatic is in the care of the Chancery, but a fool in that of the Crown, was received with general indignation. "Why that?" says old Renault. "Why that? Why must a fool be a courtier more than a madman? This is the iniquity of this dull age: I remember the time when it went on the mad side; all your top wits were scowrers,[393] rakes, roarers, and demolishers of windows. I remember a mad lord who was drunk five years together, and was the envy of that age, and is faintly imitated by the dull pretenders to vice and madness in this. Had he lived to this day, there had not been a fool in fashion in the whole kingdom." When Renault had done speaking, a very worthy man assumed the discourse: "This is," said he, "Mr. Bickerstaff, a proper argument for you to treat in your article from this place; and if you would send your Pacolet into all our brains, you would find, that a little fibre or valve, scarce discernible, makes the distinction between a politician and an idiot. We should therefore throw a veil upon those unhappy instances of human nature, who seem to breathe without the direction of reason and understanding, as we should avert our eyes with abhorrence from such as live in perpetual abuse and contradiction to these noble faculties. Shall this unfortunate man be divested of his estate, because he is tractable and indolent, runs in no man's debt, invades no man's bed, nor spends the estate he owes his children and his character; when one who shows no sense above him, but in such practices, shall be esteemed in his senses, and possibly may pretend to the guardianship of him who is no ways his inferior, but in being less wicked? We see old age brings us indifferently into the same impotence of soul, wherein nature has placed this lord. There is something very fantastical in the distribution of civil power and capacity among men. The law certainly gives these persons into the ward and care of the Crown, because that is best able to protect them from injuries, and the impositions of craft and knavery; that the life of an idiot may not ruin the entail of a noble house, and his weakness may not frustrate the industry or capacity of the founder of his family. But when one of bright parts, as we say, with his eyes open, and all men's eyes upon him, destroys those purposes, there is no remedy. Folly and ignorance are punished! Folly and guilt are tolerated! Mr. Locke has somewhere made a distinction between a madman and a fool:[394] a fool is he that from right principles makes a wrong conclusion; but a madman is one who draws a just inference from false principles. Thus the fool who cut off the fellow's head that lay asleep, and hid it, and then waited to see what he would say when he awakened and missed his headpiece, was in the right in the first thought, that a man would be surprised to find such an alteration in things since he fell asleep; but he was a little mistaken to imagine he could awake at all after his head was off. A madman fancies himself a prince; but upon his mistake, he acts suitably to that character; and though he is out in supposing he has principalities, while he drinks gruel, and lies in straw, yet you shall see him keep the port of a distressed monarch in all his words and actions. These two persons are equally taken into custody: but what must be done to half this good company, who every hour of their life are knowingly and wittingly both fools and madmen, and yet have capacities both of forming principles, and drawing conclusions, with the full use of reason?"

From my own Apartment, July 11.

This evening some ladies came to visit my sister Jenny; and the discourse, after very many frivolous and public matters, turned upon the main point among the women, the passion of love.[395] Sappho, who always leads on this occasion, began to show her reading, and told us, that Sir John Suckling and Milton had, upon a parallel occasion, said the tenderest things she had ever read. "The circumstance," said she, "is such as gives us a notion of that protecting part which is the duty of men in their honourable designs upon, or possession of, women. In Suckling's tragedy of 'Brennoralt' he makes the lover steal into his mistress's bedchamber, and draw the curtains; then, when his heart is full of her charms, as she lies sleeping, instead of being carried away by the violence of his desires into thoughts of a warmer nature, sleep, which is the image of death, gives this generous lover reflections of a different kind, which regard rather her safety than his own passion. For, beholding her as she lies sleeping, he utters these words:

_"So misers look upon their gold, Which, while they joy to see, they fear to lose: The pleasure of the sight scarce equalling The jealousy of being dispossessed by others. Her face is like the Milky Way i' th' sky, A meeting of gentle lights without name!

"Heavens I shall this fresh ornament of the world, These precious love-lines, pass with other common things Amongst the wastes of time? what pity 'twere!_[396]

"When Milton makes Adam leaning on his arm, beholding Eve, and lying in the contemplation of her beauty, he describes the utmost tenderness and guardian affection in one word:

"Adam with looks of cordial love Hung over her enamoured.[397]

"This is that sort of passion which truly deserves the name of 'love,' and has something more generous than friendship itself; for it has a constant care of the object beloved, abstracted from its own interests in the possession of it." Sappho was proceeding on the subject, when my sister produced a letter sent to her in the time of my absence, in celebration of the marriage state, which is the condition wherein only this sort of passion reigns in full authority. The epistle is as follows:

"DEAR MADAM,

"Your brother being absent, I dare take the liberty of writing to you my thoughts of that state, which our whole sex either is or desires to be in: you'll easily guess I mean matrimony, which I hear so much decried, that it was with no small labour I maintained my ground against two opponents; but, as your brother observed of Socrates, I drew them into my conclusion from their own concessions; thus:

"In marriage are two happy things allowed, A wife in wedding-sheets, and in a shroud. How can a marriage state then be accursed, Since the last day's as happy as the first?

"If you think they were too easily confuted, you may conclude them not of the first sense, by their talking against marriage.

"Yours,

"MARIANA."

I observed Sappho began to redden at this epistle; and turning to a lady, who was playing with a dog she was so fond of as to carry him abroad with her; "Nay," says she, "I cannot blame the men if they have mean ideas of our souls and affections, and wonder so many are brought to take us for companions for life, when they see our endearments so triflingly placed: for, to my knowledge, Mr. Truman would give half his estate for half the affection you have shown to that Shock: nor do I believe you would be ashamed to confess, that I saw you cry, when he had the colic last week with lapping sour milk. What more could you do for your lover himself?" "What more!" replied the lady, "there is not a man in England for whom I could lament half so much." Then she stifled the animal with kisses, and called him, Beau, Life, Dear, Monsieur, Pretty Fellow, and what not, in the hurry of her impertinence. Sappho rose up; as she always does at anything she observes done, which discovers in her own sex a levity of mind, which renders them inconsiderable in the opinion of others.

St. James's Coffee-house, July 11.

Letters from the Hague of the 16th instant, N.S., say, that the siege of Tournay went on with all imaginable success; and that there has been no manner of stop given to the attempts of the Confederates since they undertook it, except that by an accident of firing a piece of ordnance, it burst, and killed fifteen or sixteen men. The French army is still in the camp of Lens, and goes on in improving their entrenchments. When the last advices came away, it was believed the town of Tournay would be in the hands of the Confederates by the end of this month. Advices from Brussels inform us, that they have an account of a great action between the malcontents in the Vivarez, and the French king's forces under the command of the Duke of Roquelaure, in which engagement there were eighteen hundred men killed on the spot. They add, that all sorts of people who are under any oppression or discontent do daily join the Vivarois; and that their present body of men in arms consisted of six thousand. This sudden insurrection has put the Court of France under great difficulties; and the king has given orders, that the main body of his troops in Spain shall withdraw into his own dominions, where they are to be quartered in such countries as have of late discovered an inclination to take up arms: the calamities of that kingdom being such, that the people are not by any means to be kept in obedience, except by the terror of military execution. What makes the distresses still greater, is, that the Court begins to be doubtful of their troops, some regiments in the action in the Cevennes having faced about against their officers; and after the battle was over, joined the malcontents. Upon receiving advice of this battle, the Duke of Berwick detached twelve battalions into those parts, and began to add new works to his entrenchments near Briancon, in order to defend his camp, after being weakened by sending so great a reinforcement into the Cevennes. Letters from Spain say, that the Duchess of Anjou was lately delivered of a second son. They write from Madrid of the 25th of June, that the blockade of Olivenza was continued; but acknowledge, that the late provisions which were thrown into the place, make them doubt whether they shall be masters of it this campaign; though it is at present so closely blocked up, that it appears impracticable to send in any more stores or succours. They are preparing with all expedition to repair the fortifications of Alicante, for the security of the kingdom of Valencia.



[Footnote 392: It appears from Luttrell's "Brief Relation," that in Feb. 1707, Commissioners sat in the Exchequer Room at Westminster to try whether Viscount Wenman, "aged 19, of L5000 per annum estate in Oxfordshire," were an idiot or not. On the 14th February the Commission was superseded. In June 1709, a new Commission passed the Great Seal for inquiring into the Viscount's idiocy, and on July 29 they found that he was no idiot. On July 12, Peter Wentworth wrote thus to Lord Raby: "The prosecution of Lord Wainman is now order'd again, upon wch the Tatler is to day; the accation I am told is this, that last year when there was a stopt put to't 'twas upon the intercession lady Wainman the mother made to the Queen, and that she designed to marry her son, the fool, to Sir John Packington's daughter, 'twas then said that my Lady her self had married her Butler, wch the Queen desired her to tell the truth, and she did assure the Queen upon her word and honour,'twas false, and she never intended any such thing, but of late she has own her marriage to that same Butler, and put off the match with Sir John P——daughter, and married him to her husband's sister, wch they say the Queen is angry at and therefore this fresh prosecution is order'd" ("Wentworth Papers," p. 93). Lord Wenman, the fifth Viscount, was born in 1687, married Susannah, daughter of Seymour Wroughton, Esq., in 1709, and died in 1729. Lord Wenman's brother-in-law, Francis Wroughton, was also his father-in-law, for he had married, in 1699, as her third husband, the Viscount's mother, the Countess of Abingdon.]

[Footnote 393: The Scowrers and Roarers were the forerunners of the Mohocks of 1712. Shadwell wrote a play called "The Scowrers," and often alludes to the window-breakers of his time. See Gay's "Trivia," iii. 325:

"Who has not heard the Scowrer's midnight fame? Who has not trembled at the Mohock's name?" ]

[Footnote 394: "Essay concerning Human Understanding," chap. xii. sect. 14.]

[Footnote 395: See Nos. 6, 35.]

[Footnote 396: "Brennoralt," act iii.]

[Footnote 397: "Paradise Lost," iv. 12, 13.]



No. 41. [STEELE.

From Tuesday, July 12, to Thursday, July 14, 1709.

Celebrare domestica facta.

* * * * *

White's Chocolate-house, July 12.

There is no one thing more to be lamented in our nation, than their general affectation of everything that is foreign; nay, we carry it so far, that we are more anxious for our own countrymen when they have crossed the seas, than when we see them in the same dangerous condition before our eyes at home: else how is it possible, that on the 29th of the last month, there should have been a battle fought in our very streets of London, and nobody at this end of the town have heard of it? I protest, I, who make it my business to inquire after adventures, should never have known this, had not the following account been sent me enclosed in a letter. This, it seems, is the way of giving out of orders in the Artillery Company;[398] and they prepare for a day of action with so little concern, as only to call it, "An Exercise of Arms."

"An Exercise at Arms of the Artillery Company, to be performed on Wednesday, June 29, 1709, under the command of Sir Joseph Woolfe, Knight and Alderman, General; Charles Hopson, Esquire, present Sheriff, Lieutenant-General; Captain Richard Synge, Major; Major John Shorey, Captain of Grenadiers; Captain William Grayhurst, Captain John Buttler, Captain Robert Carellis, Captains.

"The body march from the Artillery Ground through Moorgate, Coleman Street, Lothbury, Broad Street, Finch Lane, Cornhill, Cheapside, St. Martin's, St. Anne's Lane, halt the pikes under the wall in Noble Street, draw up the firelocks facing the Goldsmiths' Hall, make ready and face to the left, and fire, and so ditto three times. Beat to arms, and march round the hall, as up Lad Lane, Gutter Lane, Honey Lane, and so wheel to the right, and make your salute to my lord, and so down St. Anne's Lane, up Aldersgate Street, Barbican, and draw up in Red Cross Street, the right at St. Paul's Alley in the rear. March off Lieutenant-General with half the body up Beech Lane: he sends a subdivision up King's Head Court, and takes post in it, and marches two divisions round into Red Lion Market, to defend that pass, and succour the division in King's Head Court, but keeps in White Cross Street, facing Beech Lane, the rest of the body ready drawn up. Then the General marches up Beech Lane, is attacked, but forces the division in the court into the market, and enters with three divisions while he presses the Lieutenant-General's main body; and at the same time, the three divisions force those of the revolters out of the market, and so all the Lieutenant-General's body retreats into Chiswell Street, and lodges two divisions in Grub Street; and as the General marches on, they fall on his flank, but soon made to give way; but having a retreating place in Red Lion Court, but could not hold it, being put to flight through Paul's Alley, and pursued by the General's grenadiers, while he marches up and attacks their main body, but are opposed again by a party of men as lay in Black Raven Court; but they are forced also to retire soon in the utmost confusion; and at the same time those brave divisions in Paul's Alley ply their rear with grenadiers, that with precipitation they take to the rout along Bunhill Row: so the General marches into the Artillery Ground, and being drawn up, finds the revolting party to have found entrance, and makes a show as if for a battle, and both armies soon engage in form, and fire by platoons."

Much might be said for the improvement of this system; which, for its style and invention, may instruct generals and their historians, both in fighting a battle, and describing it when it is over. These elegant expressions, "Ditto," "And so," "But soon," "But having," "But could not," "But are," "But they," "Finds the party to have found," &c., do certainly give great life and spirit to the relation. Indeed I am extremely concerned for the Lieutenant-General, who, by his overthrow and defeat, is made a deplorable instance of the fortune of war, and vicissitudes of human affairs. He, alas! has lost in Beech Lane and Chiswell Street, all the glory he lately gained in and about Holborn and St. Giles's. The art of subdividing first, and dividing afterwards, is new and surprising; and according to this method, the troops are disposed in King's Head Court and Red Lion Market: nor is the conduct of these leaders less conspicuous in their choice of the ground or field of battle. Happy was it, that the greatest part of the achievements of this day was to be performed near Grub Street,[399] that there might not be wanting a sufficient number of faithful historians, who being eye-witnesses of these wonders, should impartially transmit them to posterity: but then it can never be enough regretted, that we are left in the dark as to the name and title of that extraordinary hero who commanded the divisions in Paul's Alley; especially because those divisions are justly styled brave, and accordingly were to push the enemy along Bunhill Row, and thereby occasion a general battle. But Pallas appeared in the form of a shower of rain, and prevented the slaughter and desolation which were threatened by these extraordinary preparations.