[65] A plum is £100,000.
[66] Sir Francis Child, according to the annotator mentioned in a note
to No. 4. Sir Francis Child, the founder of the banking-house, was
elected Lord Mayor in 1698, and was afterwards M.P. for the City and
for Devizes. He died in 1713.
[67] Hampstead was quite a health resort, with chalybeate springs. The
following advertisement appeared in No. 201: "A consort of music will
be performed in the Great Room at Hampstead, this present Saturday, the
22nd inst., at the desire of the gentlemen and ladies living in and
near Hampstead, by the best masters. Several of the opera songs, by a
girl of nine years, a scholar of Mr. Tenoe's, who never performed in
public, but once at York Buildings, with very good success. To begin
exactly at five, for the conveniency of gentlemen's returning. Tickets
to be had only at the Wells, at 2_s._ 6_d._ each. For the benefit of
Mr. Tenoe."
No. 58. [STEELE.
From _Saturday, August 20_, to _Tuesday, August 23, 1709_.
_White's Chocolate-house, August 22._
Poor Cynthio[68] (who does me the honour to talk to me now and then
very freely of his most secret thoughts, and tells me his most private
frailties) owned to me, that though he is in his very prime of life,
love had killed all his desires, and he was now as much to be trusted
with a fine lady, as if he were eighty. "That one passion for Clarissa
has taken up," said he, "my whole soul, and all my idle flames are
extinguished, as you may observe, ordinary fires are often put out
by the sunshine." This was a declaration not to be made, but upon
the highest opinion of a man's sincerity; yet as much a subject of
raillery as such a speech would be, it is certain, that chastity is a
nobler quality, and as much to be valued in men as in women. The mighty
Scipio, who (as Bluffe[69] says in the comedy) was a pretty fellow in
his time, was of this mind, and is celebrated for it by an author of
good sense. When he lived, wit, and humour, and raillery, and public
success, were at as high a pitch in Rome, as at present in England; yet
I believe, there was no man in those days thought that general at all
ridiculous in his behaviour in the following account of him: Scipio,
at four and twenty years of age,[70] had obtained a great victory,
and a multitude of prisoners of each sex, and all conditions, fell
into his possession: among others, an agreeable virgin in her early
bloom and beauty. He had too sensible a spirit to see the most lovely
of all objects without being moved with passion: besides which, there
was no obligation of honour or virtue to restrain his desires towards
one who was his by the fortune of war. But a noble indignation, and
a sudden sorrow, which appeared in her countenance, when a conqueror
cast his eyes upon her, raised his curiosity to know her story. He was
informed, that she was a lady of the highest condition in that country,
and contracted to Indibilis, a man of merit and quality. The generous
Roman soon placed himself in the condition of that unhappy man, who was
to lose so charming a bride; and though a youth, a bachelor, a lover,
and a conqueror, immediately resolved to resign all the invitations
of his passion, and the rights of his power, to restore her to her
destined husband. With this purpose he commanded her parents and
relations, as well as her husband, to attend him at an appointed time.
When they met, and were waiting for the general, my author frames to
himself the different concern of an unhappy father, a despairing lover,
and a tender mother, in the several persons who were so related to
the captive. But for fear of injuring the delicate circumstances with
an old translation, I shall proceed to tell you, that Scipio appears
to them, and leads in his prisoner into their presence. The Romans
(as noble as they were) seemed to allow themselves a little too much
triumph over the conquered; therefore, as Scipio approached, they all
threw themselves on their knees, except the lover of the lady: but
Scipio observing in him a manly sullenness, was the more inclined to
favour him, and spoke to him in these words: "It is not the manner of
the Romans to use all the power they justly may: we fight not to ravage
countries, or break through the ties of humanity; I am acquainted
with your worth, and your interest in this lady: fortune has made me
your master; but I desire to be your friend. This is your wife; take
her, and may the gods bless you with her. But far be it from Scipio
to purchase a loose and momentary pleasure at the rate of making an
honest man unhappy." Indibilis' heart was too full to make him any
answer, but he threw himself at the feet of the general and wept aloud.
The captive lady fell into the same posture, and they both remained
so till the father burst into the following words: "O divine Scipio!
The gods have given you more than human virtue. O glorious leader! O
wondrous youth! Does not that obliged virgin give you, while she prays
to the gods for your prosperity, and thinks you sent down from them,
raptures, above all the transports which you could have reaped from
the possession of her injured person?" The temperate Scipio answered
him without much emotion, and, saying, "Father, be a friend to Rome,"
retired. An immense sum was offered as her ransom; but he sent it to
her husband, and smiling, said, "This is a trifle after what I have
given him already; but let Indibilis know, that chastity at my age is
a much more difficult virtue to practise than generosity." I observed,
Cynthio was very much taken with my narrative; but told me, this was a
virtue that would bear but a very inconsiderable figure in our days.
However I took the liberty to say, that we ought not to lose our ideas
of things, though we had debauched our true relish in our practice. For
after we have done laughing, solid virtue will keep its place in men's
opinions: and though custom made it not so scandalous as it ought
to be, to ensnare innocent women, and triumph in the falsehood; such
actions as we have here related, must be accounted true gallantry, and
rise the higher in our esteem, the farther they are removed from our
imitation.
_Will's Coffee-house, August 22._
A man would be apt to think in this laughing town, that it were
impossible a thing so exploded as speaking hard words should be
practised by any one that had ever seen good company; but as if there
were a standard in our minds as well as bodies, you see very many just
where they were twenty years ago, and more they cannot, will not arrive
at. Were it not thus, the noble Martius would not be the only man in
England whom nobody can understand, though he talks more than any man
else, Will. Dactyle the epigrammatist, Jack Comma the grammarian, Nick
Cross-grain who writes anagrams, and myself, made a pretty company at
a corner of this room, and entered very peaceably upon a subject fit
enough for us; which was, the examination of the force of the particle
"for," when Martius joined us. He being well known to us all, asked
what we were upon? For he had a mind to consummate the happiness of
the day, which had been spent among the stars of the first magnitude,
among the men of letters; and therefore, to put a period to it, as he
had commenced it, he should be glad to be allowed to participate of the
pleasure of our society. I told him the subject. "Faith, gentlemen,"
said Martius, "your subject is humble; and if you would give me leave
to elevate the conversation, I should humbly offer, that you would
enlarge your inquiries to the word 'forasmuch': for though I take
it," said he, "to be but one word; yet, the particle 'much' implying
quantity, the particle 'as' similitude, it will be greater, and
more like ourselves, to treat of 'forasmuch.'" Jack Comma is always
serious, and answered, "Martius, I must take the liberty to say, that
you have fallen into all this error and profuse manner of speech by a
certain hurry in your imagination, for want of being more exact in the
knowledge of the parts of speech; and it is so with all men who have
not well studied the particle 'for.' You have spoken 'for' without
making any inference, which is the great use of that particle. There is
no manner of force in your observation of quantity and similitude in
the syllables 'as' and 'much.' But it is ever the fault of men of great
wit to be incorrect; which evil they run into by an indiscreet use of
the word 'for.' Consider all the books of controversy which have been
written, and I'll engage you will observe, that all the debate lies in
this point, whether they brought in 'for' in a just manner, or forced
it in for their own use, rather than as understanding the use of the
word itself? There is nothing like familiar instances: you have heard
the story of the Irishman, who reading, 'Money for Live Hair,' took a
lodging and expected to be paid for living at that house. If this man
had known 'for' was in that place, of a quite different signification
from the particle 'to,' he could not have fallen into the mistake of
taking 'live' for what the Latins call _vivere_, or rather _habitare_"
Martius seemed at a loss; and admiring his profound learning, wished
he had been bred a scholar, for he did not take the scope of his
discourse. This wise debate, of which we had much more, made me reflect
upon the difference of their capacities, and wonder that there could
be as it were a diversity in men's genius for nonsense; that one
should bluster, while another crept in absurdities. Martius moves
like a blind man, lifting his legs higher than the ordinary way of
stepping; and Comma, like one who is only short-sighted, picking his
way when he should be marching on. Want of learning makes Martius a
brisk entertaining fool, and gives himself a full scope; but that
which Comma has, and calls learning, makes him diffident, and curb his
natural misunderstanding, to the great loss of the men of raillery.
This conversation confirmed me in the opinion, that learning usually
does but improve in us what nature endowed us with. He that wants good
sense, is unhappy in having it, for he has thereby only more ways of
exposing himself; and he that has sense, knows that learning is not
knowledge, but rather the art of using it.
_St. James's Coffee-house, August 22._
We[71] have undoubted intelligence of the defeat of the King of Sweden;
and that prince (who for some years had hovered like an approaching
tempest, and was looked up at by all the nations of Europe, which
seemed to expect their fate according to the course he should take),
is now, in all probability, an unhappy exile, without the common
necessaries of life. His Czarish Majesty treats his prisoners with
great gallantry and distinction. Count Rheinsfeldt has had particular
marks of his Majesty's esteem, for his merit and services to his
master; but Count Piper, whom his Majesty believes author of the
most violent councils into which his prince entered, is disarmed and
entertained accordingly. That decisive battle was ended at nine in the
morning, and all the Swedish generals dined with the Czar that very
day, and received assurances that they should find Muscovy was not
unacquainted with the laws of honour and humanity.