[108] Colonel Rivet was one of the officers killed at the battle
of Malplaquet. The Duke of Argyle received seven shots through his
clothes, but was unhurt. General Webb, who distinguished himself by
his victory at Wynendale in 1708, much to Marlborough's chagrin, was
dangerously wounded at Malplaquet.
[109] Rascals. See No. 56.
[110] See No. 61.
[111] Wonder.
No. 66. [STEELE.
From _Thursday, Sept. 8_, to _Saturday, Sept. 10, 1709_.
_Will's Coffee-house, Sept. 9._[113]
The subject of the discourse this evening was Eloquence and Graceful
Action. Lysander, who is something particular in his way of thinking
and speaking, told us, a man could not be eloquent without action: for
the deportment of the body, the turn of the eye, and an apt sound to
every word that is uttered, must all conspire to make an accomplished
speaker. Action in one that speaks in public, is the same thing as a
good mien in ordinary life. Thus, as a certain insensibility in the
countenance recommends a sentence of humour and jest, so it must be a
very lively consciousness that gives grace to great sentiments. The
jest is to be a thing unexpected; therefore your undesigning manner
is a beauty in expressions of mirth; but when you are to talk on a
set subject, the more you are moved yourself, the more you will move
others. "There is," said he, "a remarkable example of that kind:
Æschines, a famous orator of antiquity, had pleaded at Athens in
a great cause against Demosthenes; but having lost it, retired to
Rhodes. Eloquence was then the quality most admired among men; and the
magistrates of that place having heard he had a copy of the speech of
Demosthenes, desired him to repeat both their pleadings. After his own,
he recited also the oration of his antagonist. The people expressed
their admiration of both, but more of that of Demosthenes. 'If you
are,' said he, 'thus touched with hearing only what that great orator
said, how would you have been affected had you seen him speak? For he
who hears Demosthenes only, loses much the better part of the oration.'
Certain it is, that they who speak gracefully, are very lamely
represented in having their speeches read or repeated by unskilful
people; for there is something native to each man, so inherent to his
thoughts and sentiments, which it is hardly possible for another to
give a true idea of. You may observe in common talk, when a sentence
of any man's is repeated, an acquaintance of his shall immediately
observe, 'That is so like him, methinks I see how he looked when he
said it.' But of all the people on the earth, there are none who puzzle
me so much as the clergy of Great Britain, who are, I believe, the most
learned body of men now in the world; and yet this art of speaking,
with the proper ornaments of voice and gesture, is wholly neglected
among them; and I'll engage, were a deaf man to behold the greater part
of them preach, he would rather think they were reading the contents
only of some discourse they intended to make, than actually in the
body of an oration, even when they are upon matters of such a nature
as one would believe it were impossible to think of without emotion.
I own there are exceptions to this general observation, and that the
Dean[114] we heard the other day together, is an orator. He has so
much regard to his congregation, that he commits to his memory what
he is to say to them; and has so soft and graceful a behaviour, that
it must attract your attention. His person, it is to be confessed,
is no small recommendation; but he is to be highly commended for not
losing that advantage, and adding to the propriety of speech (which
might pass the criticism of Longinus) an action which would have been
approved by Demosthenes. He has a peculiar force in his way, and has
many of his audience[115] who could not be intelligent hearers of his
discourse, were there not explanation as well as grace in his action.
This art of his is used with the most exact and honest skill. He
never attempts your passions till he has convinced your reason. All
the objections which he can form are laid open and dispersed, before
he uses the least vehemence in his sermon; but when he thinks he has
your head, he very soon wins your heart; and never pretends to show
the beauty of holiness till he hath convinced you of the truth of it.
Would every one of our clergymen be thus careful to recommend truth
and virtue in their proper figures, and show so much concern for them
as to give them all the additional force they were able, it is not
possible that nonsense should have so many hearers as you find it has
in dissenting congregations, for no reason in the world but because it
is spoken extempore; for ordinary minds are wholly governed by their
eyes and ears, and there is no way to come at their hearts but by
power over their imaginations. There is my friend and merry companion
Daniel:[116] he knows a great deal better than he speaks, and can form
a proper discourse as well as any orthodox neighbour. But he knows very
well, that to bawl out, My beloved! and the words, Grace! Regeneration!
Sanctification! A new light! The day! the day! ay, my beloved, the day!
or rather, the night! the night is coming! and judgment will come, when
we least think of it! and so forth--he knows to be vehement is the only
way to come at his audience. Daniel, when he sees my friend Greenhat
come in, can give him a good hint, and cry out, This is only for the
saints! the regenerated! By this force of action, though mixed with
all the incoherence and ribaldry imaginable, Daniel can laugh at his
diocesan, and grow fat by voluntary subscription, while the parson of
the parish goes to law for half his dues. Daniel will tell you, it is
not the shepherd, but the sheep with the bell, which the flock follows.
Another thing very wonderful this learned body should omit, is,
learning to read; which is a most necessary part of eloquence in one
who is to serve at the altar: for there is no man but must be sensible,
that the lazy tone and inarticulate sound of our common readers,
depreciates the most proper form of words that were ever extant in any
nation or language, to speak our own wants, or His power from whom we
ask relief. There cannot be a greater instance of the power of action
than in little Parson Dapper,[117] who is the common relief to all the
lazy pulpits in town. This smart youth has a very good memory, a quick
eye, and a clean handkerchief. Thus equipped, he opens his text, shuts
his book fairly, shows he has no notes in his Bible, opens both palms,
and shows all is fair there too. Thus, with a decisive air, my young
man goes on without hesitation; and though, from the beginning to the
end of his pretty discourse, he has not used one proper gesture, yet at
the conclusion the church-warden pulls his gloves from off his head;
'Pray, who is this extraordinary young man?' Thus the force of action
is such, that it is more prevalent, even when improper, than all the
reason and argument in the world without it." This gentleman concluded
his discourse by saying, "I do not doubt but if our preachers would
learn to speak, and our readers to read, within six months' time we
should not have a dissenter within a mile of a church in Great Britain."
_From my own Apartment, Sept. 9._
I have a letter from a young fellow who complains to me, that he was
bred a mercer, and is now just out of his time, but unfortunately (for
he has no manner of education suitable to his present estate) an uncle
has left him £1000 per annum.
The young man is sensible that he is so spruce, that he fears he shall
never be genteel as long as he lives, but applies himself to me, to
know what method to take to help his air and be a fine gentleman. He
adds, that several of those ladies who were formerly his customers,
visit his mother on purpose to fall in his way, and fears he shall
be obliged to marry against his will; "for," says he, "if any one of
them should ask me, I shall not be able to deny her. I am," says he
further, "utterly at a loss how to deal with them; for though I was
the most pert creature in the world when I was foreman, and could
hand a woman of the first quality to her coach, as well as her own
gentleman-usher, I am now quite out of my way, and speechless in their
company. They commend my modesty to my face. No one scruples to say, I
should certainly make the best husband in the world, a man of my sober
education. Mrs. Would-be watches all opportunities to be alone with me.
Therefore, good Mr. Bickerstaff, here are my writings enclosed; if you
can find any flaw in my title, so as it may go to the next heir, who
goes to St. James's Coffee-house, and White's, and could enjoy it, I
should be extremely well pleased with two thousand pounds to set up my
trade, and live in a way I know I should become, rather than be laughed
at all my life among too good company. If you could send for my cousin,
and persuade him to take the estate on these terms, and let nobody know
it, you would extremely oblige me."
Upon first sight, I thought this a very whimsical proposal; however,
upon more mature consideration, I could not but admire the young
gentleman's prudence and good sense; for there is nothing so irksome
as living in a way a man knows he does not become. I consulted Mr.
Obadiah Greenhat on this occasion, and he is so well pleased with
the man, that he has half a mind to take the estate himself; but
upon second thoughts he proposed this expedient. "I should be very
willing," said he, "to keep the estate where it is, if we could make
the young man any way easy; therefore I humbly propose he should take
to drinking for one half-year, and make a sloven of him, and from
thence begin his education anew: for it is a maxim, that one who is
ill taught is in a worse condition than he who is wholly ignorant;
therefore a spruce mercer is further off the air of a fine gentleman
than a downright clown. To make our patient anything better, we must
unmake him what he is." I indeed proposed to flux him; but Greenhat
answered, that if he recovered, he would be as prim and feat as ever
he was: therefore he would have it his way; and our friend is to drink
till he is carbuncled, and tun-bellied; after which we will send him
down to smoke, and be buried with his ancestors in Derbyshire. I am
indeed desirous he should have his life in the estate, because he
has such a just sense of himself and his abilities, to know that it
is an unhappiness to him to be a man of fortune. This youth seems
to understand, that a gentleman's life is that of all others the
hardest to pass through with propriety of behaviour; for though he
has a support without art or labour, yet his manner of enjoying that
circumstance is a thing to be considered; and you see among men
who are honoured with the common appellation of gentlemen, so many
contradictions to that character, that it is the utmost ill-fortune to
bear it: for which reason I am obliged to change the circumstances of
several about this town. Harry Lacker is so very exact in his dress,
that I shall give his estate to his younger brother, and make him a
dancing master. Nokes Lightfoot is so nimble, and values himself so
much upon it, that I have thoughts of making him huntsman to a pack of
beagles, and give his land to somebody that will stay upon it.
Now I am upon the topic of becoming what we enjoy, I forbid all persons
who are not of the first quality, or who do not bear some important
office that requires so much distinction, to go to Hyde Park with six
horses, for I cannot but esteem it the highest insolence: therefore
hereafter no man shall do it merely because he is able, without any
other pretension. But what may serve all purposes quite as well, it
shall be allowed all such who think riches the chief distinction, to
appear in the Ring[118] with two horses only, and a rent-roll hanging
out of each side of their coach. This is a thought of Mr. Greenhat's,
who designs very soon to publish a sumptuary discourse upon the subject
of equipage, wherein he will give us rules on that subject, and assign
the proper duties and qualifications of masters and servants, as well
as that of husbands and wives; with a treatise of economy without
doors, or the complete art of appearing in the world. This will be very
useful to all who are suddenly rich, or are ashamed of being poor.
----_Sunt certa piacula, quæ te
Ter pure lecto poterunt recreare libello._[119]
I have notice of a new pack of dogs, of quite another sort than
hitherto mentioned. I have not an exact account of their way of
hunting, the following letter giving only a bare notice of them.
"SIR,
_September 7._
"There are another pack of dogs to be disposed of, who kennel
about Charing Cross, at the old Fat Dog's at the corner of
Buckingham Court,[120] near Spring Garden:[121] two of them are
said to be whelped in Alsatia,[122] now in ruins; but they, with
the rest of the pack, are as pernicious as if the old kennel had
never been broken down. The ancients distinguished this sort of
curs by the name of Hæredipetes,[123] the most pernicious of all
biters, for seizing young heirs, especially when their estates are
entailed, whom they reduce by one good bite to such a condition,
that they cannot ever after come to the use of their teeth, or
get smelling of a crust. You are desired to dispose of these as
soon as you can, that the breed may not increase; and your care in
tying them up will be acknowledged by,
"SIR,
Humble Servant,
PHILANTHROPOS."[124]
_St. James's Coffee-house, Sept. 9._
We have received letters from the Duke of Marlborough's camp, which
bring us further particulars of the great and glorious victory obtained
over the enemy on the 11th instant, N.S. The number of the wounded and
prisoners is much greater than was expected from our first account.
The day was doubtful till after twelve o'clock; but the enemy made
little resistance after their first line on the left began to give
way. An exact narration of the whole affair is expected next post. The
French have had two days allowed them to bury their dead, and carry off
their wounded men upon parole. Those regiments of Great Britain which
suffered most, are ordered into garrison, and fresh troops commanded to
march into the field. The States have also directed troops to march out
of the towns, to relieve those who lost so many men in attacking the
second entrenchment of the French in the plain between Sart and Jansart.