After having long celebrated the superior graces and excellences
among men, in an imaginary character, I do myself the honour to
show my veneration for transcendent merit, under my own name, in
this address to your lordship. The just application of those high
accomplishments of which you are master, has been an advantage to
all your fellow subjects; and it is from the common obligation you
have laid upon all the world, that I, though a private man, can
pretend to be affected with, or take the liberty to acknowledge
your great talents and public virtues.
It gives a pleasing prospect to your friends, that is to say, to
the friends of your country, that you have passed through the
highest offices, at an age when others usually do but form to
themselves the hopes of them.[2] They may expect to see you in the
House of Lords as many years as you were ascending to it. It is our
common good, that your admirable eloquence can now no longer be
employed but in the expression of your own sentiments and judgment.
The skilful pleader is now for ever changed into the just judge;
which latter character your lordship exerts with so prevailing an
impartiality, that you win the approbation even of those who
dissent from you, and you always obtain favour, because you are
never moved by it.
This gives you a certain dignity peculiar to your present
situation, and makes the equity, even of a Lord High Chancellor,
appear but a degree towards the magnanimity of a peer of Great
Britain.
Forgive me, my lord, when I cannot conceal from you, that I shall
never hereafter behold you, but I shall behold you, as lately,
defending the brave, and the unfortunate.[3]
When we attend to your lordship, engaged in a discourse, we cannot
but reflect upon the many requisites which the vainglorious
speakers of antiquity have demanded in a man who is to excel in
oratory; I say, my lord, when we reflect upon the precepts by
viewing the example, though there is no excellence proposed by
those rhetoricians wanting, the whole art seems to be resolved into
that one motive of speaking, sincerity in the intention. The
graceful manner, the apt gesture, and the assumed concern, are
impotent helps to persuasion, in comparison of the honest
countenance of him who utters what he really means. From hence it
is, that all the beauties which others attain with labour, are in
your lordship but the natural effects of the heart that dictates.
It is this noble simplicity which makes you surpass mankind in the
faculties wherein mankind are distinguished from other creatures,
reason and speech.
If these gifts were communicated to all men in proportion to the
truth and ardour of their hearts, I should speak of you with the
same force as you express yourself on any other subject. But I
resist my present impulse, as agreeable as it is to me; though
indeed, had I any pretensions to a fame of this kind, I should,
above all other themes, attempt a panegyric upon my Lord Cowper:
for the only sure way to a reputation for eloquence, in an age
wherein that perfect orator lives, is to choose an argument, upon
which he himself must of necessity be silent. I am,
My Lord, your Lordship's
Most devoted, most obedient, and
Most humble Servant,
RICHARD STEELE.
[Footnote 1: William Cowper was appointed King's counsel about 1694; he
succeeded Sir Nathan Wright, as Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, October
11, 1705; was created Baron Cowper of Wingham, November 9, 1706; and was
appointed Lord Chancellor, May 4, 1707, which post he held till
September 14, 1710. On the accession of King George, he was again
appointed Lord Chancellor, and, on resigning the Great Seal, was created
Earl Cowper and Viscount Fordwich, March 18, 1717-18. He died in 1723.
Lord Cowper refused to accept New Year's gifts from the counsellors at
law, which had been long given to his predecessors, and, when he was
Chancellor, though in friendship with the Duke of Marlborough, and of
the same political principles, he refused to put the broad seal of his
office to a commission for making his Grace generalissimo for life.
"When Steele's patent, as Governor of the Theatre Royal, passed the
Great Seal, Lord Chancellor Cowper, in compliment to Sir Richard, would
receive no fee" (Cibber's "Apology"). He was praised by Hughes, under
the name of "Manilius," in No. 467 of the _Spectator_.]
[Footnote 2: The date of Lord Cowper's birth is not known, but in 1710
he was probably about 46. He entered the Middle Temple in 1682.]
[Footnote 3: In a pamphlet entitled "A Letter to Isaac Bickerstaff,"
1710, Lord Cowper defended the character of the Duchess of Marlborough
against an attack by Bolingbroke in a "Letter to the _Examiner_."]
#THE TATLER#
BY ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, ESQ.
No. 115. [STEELE.
From _Saturday, Dec. 31, 1709_, to _Tuesday, Jan. 3, 1709-10_.
--Novum intervenit vitium et calamitas,
Ut neque spectari, neque cognosci potuerit:
Ita populus studio stupidus in funambulo
Animum occuparat.--TER., Hecyra, Prologue.
* * * * *
_Sheer Lane, January 2._
I went on Friday last to the opera, and was surprised to find a thin
house at so noble an entertainment, till I heard that the tumbler[4] was
not to make his appearance that night. For my own part, I was fully
satisfied with the sight of an actor, who, by the grace and propriety of
his action and gesture, does honour to a human figure, as much as the
other vilifies and degrades it. Every one will easily imagine I mean
Signor Nicolini,[5] who sets off the character he bears in an opera by
his action, as much as he does the words of it by his voice. Every limb,
and every finger, contributes to the part he acts, insomuch that a deaf
man might go along with him in the sense of it. There is scarce a
beautiful posture in an old statue which he does not plant himself in,
as the different circumstances of the story give occasion for it. He
performs the most ordinary action in a manner suitable to the greatness
of his character, and shows the prince even in the giving of a letter,
or the despatching of a message. Our best actors are somewhat at a loss
to support themselves with proper gesture, as they move from any
considerable distance to the front of the stage; but I have seen the
person of whom I am now speaking, enter alone at the remotest part of
it, and advance from it with such greatness of air and mien, as seemed
to fill the stage, and at the same time commanding the attention of the
audience with the majesty of his appearance. But notwithstanding the
dignity and elegance of this entertainment, I find for some nights past,
that Punchinello has robbed the gentleman of the greater part of his
female spectators. The truth of it is, I find it so very hard a task to
keep that sex under any manner of government, that I have often resolved
to give them over entirely, and leave them to their own inventions. I
was in hopes that I had brought them to some order, and was employing my
thoughts on the reformation of their petticoats, when on a sudden I
received information from all parts, that they run gadding after a
puppet-show. I know very well, that what I here say will be thought by
some malicious persons to flow from envy to Mr. Powell; for which
reason, I shall set the late dispute between us in a true light.[6] Mr.
Powell and I had some difference about four months ago, which we managed
by way of letter, as learned men ought to do; and I was very well
contented to bear such sarcasms as he was pleased to throw upon me, and
answered them with the same freedom. In the midst of this our
misunderstanding and correspondence, I happened to give the world an
account of the order of esquires[7]; upon which, Mr. Powell was so
disingenuous, as to make one of his puppets (I wish I knew which of them
it was) declare by way of prologue, that one Isaac Bickerstaff, a
pretended esquire, had wrote a scurrilous piece to the dishonour of that
rank of men; and then, with more art than honesty, concluded, that all
the esquires in the pit were abused by his antagonist as much he was.
This public accusation made all the esquires of that county, and several
of other parts, my professed enemies. I do not in the least question but
that he will proceed in his hostilities; and I am informed, that part of
his design in coming up to town was to carry the war into my own
quarters. I do therefore solemnly declare (notwithstanding that I am a
great lover of art and ingenuity) that if I hear he opens any of his
people's mouths against me, I shall not fail to write a critique upon
his whole performance; for I must confess, that I have naturally so
strong a desire of praise, that I cannot bear reproach, though from a
piece of timber. As for Punch, who takes all opportunities of
bespattering me, I know very well his original, and have been assured by
the joiner who put him together, that he was in long dispute with
himself, whether he should turn him into several pegs and utensils, or
make him the man he is. The same person confessed to me, that he had
once actually laid aside his head for a nutcracker. As for his scolding
wife (however she may value herself at present), it is very well known
that she is but a piece of crabtree. This artificer further whispered in
my ear, that all his courtiers and nobles were taken out of a quickset
hedge not far from Islington; and that Dr. Faustus himself, who is now
so great a conjurer, is supposed to have learned his whole art from an
old woman in that neighbourhood, whom he long served in the figure of a
broomstaff.
But perhaps it may look trivial to insist so much upon men's persons; I
shall therefore turn my thoughts rather to examine their behaviour, and
consider, whether the several parts are written up to that character
which Mr. Powell piques himself upon, of an able and judicious
dramatist. I have for this purpose provided myself with the works of
above twenty French critics, and shall examine (by the rules which they
have laid down upon the art of the stage) whether the unity of time,
place and action, be rightly observed in any one of this celebrated
author's productions; as also, whether in the parts of his several
actors, and that of Punch in particular, there is not sometimes an
impropriety of sentiments, and an impurity of diction.
_White's Chocolate-house, January 2._
I came in here to-day at an hour when only the dead appear in places of
resort and gallantry, and saw hung up the escutcheon of Sir Hannibal,[8]
a gentleman who used to frequent this place, and was taken up and
interred by the Company of Upholders, as having been seen here at an
unlicensed hour. The coat of the deceased is, three bowls and a jack in
a green field; the crest, a dice-box, with the king of clubs and Pam for
supporters. Some days ago the body was carried out of town with great
pomp and ceremony, in order to be buried with his ancestors at the Peak.
It is a maxim in morality, that we are to speak nothing but truth of the
living, nothing but good of the dead. As I have carefully observed the
first during his lifetime, I shall acquit myself as to the latter now he
is deceased.
He was knighted very young, not in the ordinary form, but by the common
consent of mankind.
He was in his person between round and square; in the motion and gesture
of his body he was unaffected and free, as not having too great a
respect for superiors. He was in his discourse bold and intrepid; and as
every one has an excellence as well as a failing which distinguishes him
from other men, eloquence was his predominant quality, which he had to
so great a perfection, that it was easier to him to speak than to hold
his tongue. This sometimes exposed him to the derision of men who had
much less parts than himself: and indeed his great volubility and
inimitable manner of speaking, as well as the great courage he showed on
those occasions, did sometimes betray him into that figure of speech
which is commonly distinguished by the name of "gasconade." To mention
no other, he professed in this very place some few days before he died,
that he would be one of the six that would undertake to assault me; for
which reason I have had his figure upon my wall till the hour of his
death: and am resolved for the future to bury every one forthwith who I
hear has an intention to kill me.
Since I am upon the subject of my adversaries, I shall here publish a
short letter which I have received from a well-wisher, and is as
follows:
"SAGE SIR,
"You cannot but know, there are many scribblers and others who
revile you and your writings. It is wondered that you do not exert
yourself, and crush them at once. I am,
"Sir (with great respect),
"Your most humble Admirer
"and Disciple."
In answer to this, I shall act like my predecessor AEsop, and give him a
fable instead of a reply.
It happened one day, as a stout and honest mastiff (that guarded the
village where he lived against thieves and robbers) was very gravely
walking, with one of his puppies by his side, all the little dogs in the
street gathered about him, and barked at him. The little puppy was so
offended at this affront done to his sire, that he asked him why he
would not fall upon them, and tear them to pieces?
To which the sire answered, with a great composure of mind, "If there
were no curs, I should be no mastiff."[9]
[Footnote 4: See No. 108.]
[Footnote 5: Cavalier Nicolini Grimaldi was a Neapolitan actor and
singer, who appeared first in England in McSwiney's "Pyrrhus and
Demetrius." He is often mentioned in the _Spectator_ (see Nos. 5, 13,
405), and seems to have been a friend of both Addison and Steele.
Addison praises him alike as an actor and as a singer. The following
letter from Hughes to Nicolini, dated February 4, 1709-10, is given in
Hughes' "Correspondence" (Dublin, 1773, i. 33-4): "Depuis que j'ai eu
l'honneur d'etre chez vous a la repetition de l'opera, j'ai dine avec
Mr. Steele, et la conversation roulante sur vous, je lui dis la maniere
obligeante dont je vous avois ou parler de Mr. Bickerstaff, en disant
que vous aviez beaucoup d'inclination a etudier l'Anglois pour avoir
seulement le plaisir de lire le _Tatler_. Il trouvre que votre
compliment a l'auteur du _Tatler_ est fort galant." Nicolini sang in
Italian to the English of Mrs. Tofts (see No. 20, and _Spectator_, No.
22), but Cibber observes that "whatever defect the fashionably skilful
might find in her manner, she had, in the general sense of her
spectators, charms that few of the most learned singers ever arrive at."
A letter from Lady Wentworth, dated December 10, 1708, gives us a
curious glimpse of Nicolini and Mrs. Tofts: "My dearest and best of
children ... Yesterday I had lyke to have been ketched in a trap, your
Brother Wentworth had almoste persuaded me to have gon last night to
hear the fyne muisick the famous Etallion sing att the rehersall of the
Operer, which he asured me it was soe dark none could see me. Indeed
musick was the greatest temtation I could have, but I was afraid he
deceaved me, soe Betty only went with his wife and him; and I rejoysed I
did not, for thear was a vast deal of company and good light--but the
Dutchis of Molbery had gott the Etallion to sing and he sent an excuse,
but the Dutchis of Shrosberry made him com, brought him in her coach,
but Mrs. Taufs huft and would not sing becaus he had first put it ofe;
though she was thear yet she would not, but went away. I wish the house
would al joyne to humble her and not receav her again. This man out dus
Sefachoe, they say that has hard both" ("Wentworth Papers," 1883, p.
66). Mr. Cartwright quotes from a letter in Lord Egmont's collection,
dated March 17, 1709: "This day the opera of 'Camilla' is acted
expressly for Lord Marlborough. Our famous Nicolini got 800 guineas for
his day; and 'tis thought Mrs. Tofts, whose turn it is on Tuesday next,
will get a vast deal. She was on Sunday last at the Duke of Somerset's,
where there was about thirty gentlemen, and every kiss was one guinea;
some took three, others four, others five, at that rate, but none less
than one." (Seventh Report of Hist. MSS. Commission, p. 246).]
[Footnote 6: See Nos. 11, 44, 45.]
[Footnote 7: See No. 19.]
[Footnote 8: Sir James Baker, known as the "Knight of the Peak"; see No.
118. Steele's comments on gambling in the _Tatler_ brought upon him the
anger of many of the sharpers. There is a well-known story that Lord
Forbes, Major-General Davenport, and Brigadier Bisset were in the St.
James's Coffee-house when some well-dressed men entered, and began to
abuse Steele as the author of the _Tatler_. One of them swore that he
would cut Steele's throat or teach him better manners. "In this
country," said Lord Forbes, "you will find it easier to cut a purse than
to cut a throat"; and the cut-throats were soon turned out of the house
with every mark of disgrace. A similar incident is described in a
recently published letter from Lady Marow to her daughter, Lady Kaye
("Manuscripts of the Earl of Dartmouth," iii. 148; Hist. MSS. Comm.,
Fifteenth Report, Part I.). Writing on January 5, 1709-10, Lady Marow
says: "All the town are full of the _Tatler_, which I hope you have to
prepare you for discourse, for no visit is made that I hear of but Mr.
Bickerstaff is mentioned, and I am told he has done so much good that
the sharpers cannot increase their stocks as they did formerly; for one
Young came into the chocolate-house, and said he would stop Mr.
Bickerstaff if he knew him. Mr. Steele, who is thought to write the
_Tatler_, heard Young say so, and, when he went out of the house, said
he should walk in St. James's Park an hour, if any would speak with him;
but the Hector took no notice."]
[Footnote 9: In the original folio number, after indication of certain
errata in No. 114, comes the following note: "The reader is desired not
to pronounce anything in any one of these writings _nonsense_, till the
following paper comes out."]
No. 116. [ADDISON.