From _Tuesday, Oct. 4_, to _Thursday, Oct. 6, 1709_.
_From my own Apartment, October 5._
As bad as the world is, I find by very strict observation upon virtue
and vice, that if men appeared no worse than they really are, I should
have less work than at present I am obliged to undertake for their
reformation.
They have generally taken up a kind of inverted ambition, and affect
even faults and imperfections of which they are innocent. The other
day in a coffee-house I stood by a young heir, with a fresh, sanguine,
and healthy look, who entertained us with an account of his claps and
his diet-drink; though, to my knowledge, he is as sound as any of his
tenants. This worthy youth put me into reflections upon that subject;
and I observed the fantastical humour to be so general, that there is
hardly a man who is not more or less tainted with it. The first of
this order of men are the valetudinarians, who are never in health,
but complain of want of stomach or rest every day till noon, and then
devour all which comes before them. Lady Dainty[207] is convinced, that
it is necessary for a gentlewoman to be out of order; and to preserve
that character, she dines every day in her closet at twelve, that she
may become her table at two, and be unable to eat in public. About
five years ago, I remember it was the fashion to be short-sighted: a
man would not own an acquaintance until he had first examined him with
his glass. At a lady's entrance into the play-house, you might see
tubes immediately levelled at her from every quarter of the pit and
side-boxes.[208] However, that mode of infirmity is out, and the age
has recovered its sight; but the blind seem to be succeeded by the
lame, and a jaunty limp is the present beauty. I think I have formerly
observed, a cane is part of the dress of a prig, and always worn upon
a button, for fear he should be thought to have an occasion for it, or
be esteemed really, and not genteelly, a cripple. I have considered,
but could never find out the bottom of this vanity. I indeed have heard
of a Gascon general, who, by the lucky grazing of a bullet on the roll
of his stocking, took occasion to halt all his life after. But as for
our peaceable cripples, I know no foundation for their behaviour,
without it may be supposed that in this warlike age, some think a
cane the next honour to a wooden leg. This sort of affectation I have
known run from one limb or member to another. Before the limpers came
in, I remember a race of lispers, fine persons, who took an aversion
to particular letters in our language: some never uttered the letter
H; and others had as mortal an aversion for S. Others have had their
fashionable defect in their ears, and would make you repeat all you
said twice over. I know an ancient friend of mine, whose table is every
day surrounded with flatterers, that makes use of this, sometimes as a
piece of grandeur, and at others as an art, to make them repeat their
commendations. Such affectations have been indeed in the world in
ancient times; but they fell into them out of politic ends. Alexander
the Great had a wry neck, which made it the fashion in his court to
carry their heads on one side when they came into the presence. One
who thought to outshine the whole court, carried his head so very
complaisantly, that this martial prince gave him so great a box on the
ear as set all the heads of the court upright.
This humour takes place in our minds as well as bodies. I know at
this time a young gentleman, who talks atheistically all day in
coffee-houses, and in his degrees of understanding sets up for a
free-thinker; though it can be proved upon him, he says his prayers
every morning and evening. But this class of modern wits I shall
reserve for a chapter by itself. Of the like turn are all your
marriage-haters, who rail at the noose, at the words, "For ever and
aye," and are secretly pining for some young thing or other that makes
their hearts ache by her refusal. The next to these, are those who
pretend to govern their wives, and boast how ill they use them; when
at the same time, go to their houses, and you shall see them step as
if they feared making a noise, and are as fond as an alderman. I don't
know, but sometimes these pretences may arise from a desire to conceal
a contrary defect than that they set up for. I remember, when I was a
young fellow, we had a companion of a very fearful complexion, who,
when we sat in to drink, would desire us to take his sword from him
when he grew fuddled, for it was his misfortune to be quarrelsome.
There are many, many of these evils, which demand my observation; but
because I have of late been thought somewhat too satirical, I shall
give them warning, and declare to the whole world, that they are not
true, but false hypocrites; and make it out, that they are good men
in their hearts. The motive of this monstrous affectation in the
above-mentioned, and the like particulars, I take to proceed from that
noble thirst of fame and reputation which is planted in the hearts
of all men. As this produces elegant writings and gallant actions in
men of great abilities, it also brings forth spurious productions in
men who are not capable of distinguishing themselves by things which
are really praiseworthy. As the desire of fame in men of true wit
and gallantry shows itself in proper instances, the same desire in
men who have the ambition without proper faculties, runs wild, and
discovers itself in a thousand extravagancies, by which they would
signalise themselves from others, and gain a set of admirers. When I
was a middle-aged man, there were many societies of ambitious young
men in England, who, in their pursuits after fame, were every night
employed in roasting porters, smoking cobblers, knocking down watchmen,
overturning constables, breaking windows, blackening sign-posts,
and the like immortal enterprises, that dispersed their reputation
throughout the whole kingdom. One could hardly find a knocker at a door
in a whole street after a midnight expedition of these _beaux esprits_.
I was lately very much surprised by an account of my maid, who entered
my bedchamber this morning in a very great fright, and told me, she was
afraid my parlour was haunted; for that she had found several panes of
my windows broken, and the floor strewed with halfpence.[209] I have
not yet a full light into this new way, but am apt to think, that it is
a generous piece of wit that some of my contemporaries make use of, to
break windows, and leave money to pay for them.
_St. James's Coffee-house, October 5._
I have no manner of news, more than what the whole town had the other
day; except that I have the original letter of the Mareschal Bouffiers
to the French King, after the late battle in the woods, which I
translate for the benefit of the English reader.
"SIR,
"This is to let your Majesty understand, that, to your immortal
honour, and the destruction of the confederates, your troops
have lost another battle. Artagnan did wonders, Rohan performed
miracles, Guiche did wonders, Gattion performed miracles, the
whole army distinguished themselves, and everybody did wonders.
And to conclude the wonders of the day, I can assure your Majesty,
that though you have lost the field of battle, you have not lost
an inch of ground. The enemy marched behind us with respect, and
we ran away from them as bold as lions."
Letters have been sent to Mr. Bickerstaff, relating to the present
state of the town of Bath, wherein the people of that place have
desired him to call home the physicians. All gentlemen therefore of
that profession are hereby directed to return forthwith to their places
of practice; and the stage-coaches are required to take them in before
other passengers, till there shall be a certificate signed by the Mayor
or Mr. Powell,[210] that there are but two doctors to one patient left
in town.