heard every now and then, in the midst of a long sigh that accompanied
them; as, 'Dear Kate!' 'Pretty Mrs. Peggy!' 'When shall I see my Sue
again?' This betrayed several amours which had been concealed till that
time, and furnished us with a great deal of mirth in our return to
England.
"When this confusion of voices was pretty well over, though I was
afraid to offer at speaking, as fearing I should not be heard, I
proposed a visit to the Dutch cabin, which lay about a mile farther
up into the country. My crew were extremely rejoiced to find they had
again recovered their hearing, though every man uttered his voice with
the same apprehensions that I had done.
_----Et timide verba intermissa retentat._[206]
"At about half a mile's distance from our cabin, we heard the groanings
of a bear, which at first startled us; but upon inquiry we were
informed by some of our company, that he was dead, and now lay in salt,
having been killed upon that very spot about a fortnight before, in
the time of the frost. Not far from the same place we were likewise
entertained with some posthumous snarls and barkings of a fox.
"We at length arrived at the little Dutch settlement, and upon entering
the room, found it filled with sighs that smelt of brandy, and several
other unsavoury sounds that were altogether inarticulate. My valet,
who was an Irishman, fell into so great a rage at what he heard, that
he drew his sword; but not knowing where to lay the blame, he put it
up again. We were stunned with these confused noises, but did not hear
a single word till about half-an-hour after; which I ascribed to the
harsh and obdurate sounds of that language, which wanted more time than
ours to melt and become audible.
"After having here met with a very hearty welcome, we went to the
French cabin, who, to make amends for their three weeks' silence, were
talking and disputing with greater rapidity and confusion than ever I
heard in an assembly even of that nation. Their language as I found,
upon the first giving of the weather, fell asunder and dissolved. I
was here convinced of an error into which I had before fallen; for I
fancied, that for the freezing of the sound, it was necessary for it
to be wrapped up, and, as it were, preserved in breath; but I found
my mistake, when I heard the sound of a kit playing a minuet over our
heads. I asked the occasion of it; upon which one of the company told
me, that it would play there above a week longer if the thaw continued;
'for,' says he, 'finding ourselves bereft of speech, we prevailed upon
one of the company, who had this musical instrument about him, to play
to us from morning to night; all which time we employed in dancing, in
order to dissipate our chagrin, _et tuer le temps_.'"
Here Sir John gives very good philosophical reasons why the kit could
be heard during the frost; but as they are something prolix, I pass
them over in silence, and shall only observe, that the honourable
author seems, by his quotations, to have been well versed in the
ancient poets, which perhaps raised his fancy above the ordinary pitch
of historians, and very much contributed to the embellishment of his
writings.
FOOTNOTES:
[200] "Sir R. Steele assisted in this paper" (Tickell).
[201] Several popular editions of Mandeville's travels appeared in
Queen Anne's reign.
[202] The account of the adventures of this Portuguese traveller was
published at Lisbon in 1614. An English translation by Henry Coggan
appeared in 1663.
[203] The germ of this paper on frozen voices may have been found in
Rabelais (Book iv. chaps. lv. lvi.), or in Heylin's "Little Description
of the Great World" (1629), p. 345.
[204] "Hudibras," Part i. canto i. 148.
[205] "Nec vox tentataque verba sequuntur" (Ovid, "Met." xi. 326).
[206] Ovid, "Met." i. 746.
=No. 255.= [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, Nov. 23_, to _Saturday, Nov. 25, 1710_.
----Nec te tua plurima, Panthu,
Labentem pietas, nec Apollinis infula texit.
VIRG., Æn. ii. 429.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 24._
"TO THE CENSOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.
"SIR,
"I am at present under very great difficulties, which it is not in the
power of any one, besides yourself, to redress. Whether or no you shall
think it a proper case to come before your Court of Honour, I cannot
tell; but thus it is: I am chaplain to an honourable family, very
regular at the hours of devotion, and I hope of an unblamable life; but
for not offering to rise at a second course, I found my patron and his
lady very sullen and out of humour, though at first I did not know the
reason of it. At length, when I happened to help myself to a jelly, the
lady of the house, otherwise a devout woman, told me, that it did not
become a man of my cloth to delight in such frivolous food: but as I
still continued to sit out the last course, I was yesterday informed by
the butler, that his lordship had no further occasion for my service.
All which is humbly submitted to your consideration by,
"Sir,
"Your most humble Servant, &c."[207]
The case of this gentleman deserves pity, especially if he loves
sweetmeats, to which, if I may guess by his letter, he is no enemy. In
the meantime, I have often wondered at the indecency of discarding the
holiest man from the table as soon as the most delicious parts of the
entertainment are served up, and could never conceive a reason for so
absurd a custom. Is it because a liquorish palate or a sweet tooth (as
they call it) is not consistent with the sanctity of his character?
This is but a trifling pretence. No man of the most rigid virtue gives
offence by any excesses in plum-pudding or plum-porridge, and that,
because they are the first parts of the dinner. Is there anything
that tends to incitation in sweetmeats more than in ordinary dishes?
Certainly not. Sugar-plums are a very innocent diet, and conserves of a
much colder nature than your common pickles. I have sometimes thought
that the ceremony of the chaplain's flying away from the dessert was
typical and figurative, to mark out to the company how they ought
to retire from all the luscious baits of temptation, and deny their
appetites the gratifications that are most pleasing to them; or at
least to signify, that we ought to stint ourselves in our most lawful
satisfactions, and not make our pleasure, but our support, the end of
eating: but most certainly, if such a lesson of temperance had been
necessary at a table, our clergy would have recommended it to all the
lay-masters of families, and not have disturbed other men's tables with
such unseasonable examples of abstinence. The original, therefore,
of this barbarous custom I take to have been merely accidental.
The chaplain retired out of pure complaisance to make room for the
removal of the dishes, or possibly for the ranging of the dessert.
This by degrees grew into a duty, till at length, as the fashion
improved, the good man found himself cut off from the third part of
the entertainment; and if the arrogance of the patron goes on, it is
not impossible but, in the next generation, he may see himself reduced
to the tithe, or tenth dish of the table; a sufficient caution not to
part with any privilege we are once possessed of. It was usual for the
priest in old times to feast upon the sacrifice, nay the honey-cake,
while the hungry laity looked upon him with great devotion, or as the
late Lord Rochester describes it in a very lively manner:
_And while the priest did eat, the people stared._
At present the custom is inverted; the laity feast, while the priest
stands by as a humble spectator. This necessarily puts the good man
upon making great ravages on all the dishes that stand near him, and
distinguishing himself by voraciousness of appetite, as knowing that
his time is short. I would fain ask these stiff-necked patrons,
whether they would not take it ill of a chaplain that, in his grace
after meat, should return thanks for the whole entertainment, with an
exception to the dessert? And yet I cannot but think, that in such a
proceeding he would but deal with them as they deserved. What would a
Roman Catholic priest think, who is always helped first, and placed
next the ladies, should he see a clergyman giving his company the
slip at the first appearance of the tarts or sweetmeats? Would not
he believe that he had the same antipathy to a candied orange, or a
piece of puff-paste, as some have to a Cheshire cheese, or a breast of
mutton? Yet to so ridiculous a height is this foolish custom grown,
that even the Christmas pie, which in its very nature is a kind of
consecrated cate, and a badge of distinction, is often forbidden to the
Druid of the family. Strange! that a sirloin of beef, whether boiled
or roasted, when entire, is exposed to his utmost depredations and
incisions; but if minced into small pieces, and tossed up with plums
and sugar, changes its property, and, forsooth, is meat for his master.
In this case I know not which to censure, the patron or the chaplain,
the insolence of power, or the abjectness of dependence. For my own
part, I have often blushed to see a gentleman, whom I knew to have
much more wit and learning than myself, and who was bred up with me at
the University upon the same foot of a liberal education, treated in
such an ignominious manner, and sunk beneath those of his own rank, by
reason of that character which ought to bring him honour. This deters
men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of
life, and by that means frequently excludes persons of quality from the
improving and agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend.
Mr. Oldham lets us know, that he was affrighted from the thought of
such an employment by the scandalous sort of treatment which often
accompanies it:
_Some think themselves exalted to the sky
If they light in some noble family:
Diet, a horse, and thirty pounds a year,
Besides the advantage of his lordship's ear.
The credit of the business, and the state,
Are things that in a youngster's sense sound great.
Little the inexperienced wretch does know
What slavery he oft must undergo:
Who, though in silken scarf and cassock dressed,
Wears but a gayer livery at best.
When dinner calls, the implement must wait,
With holy words to consecrate the meat;
But hold it for a favour seldom known,
If he be deigned the honour to sit down.
Soon as the tarts appear, Sir Crape, withdraw,
Those dainties are not for a spiritual maw.
Observe your distance, and be sure to stand
Hard by the cistern with your cap in hand:
There for diversion you may pick your teeth,
Till the kind voider comes for your relief.
Let others who such meannesses can brook,
Strike countenance to every great man's look;
I rate my freedom higher._[208]
This author's raillery is the raillery of a friend, and does not turn
the sacred order into ridicule, but is a just censure on such persons
as take advantage from the necessities of a man of merit, to impose
on him hardships that are by no means suitable to the dignity of his
profession.[209]
FOOTNOTES:
[207] Mr. Overton, in his "Life in the English Church, 1660-1714,"
denies the truth of Macaulay's account of the condition of the clergy.
He points out that the sons of many noble families were in the
Church, and many clergymen of the highest standing were once domestic
chaplains. But there was much "contempt of the clergy," as Eachard
puts it, in his book published in 1670. Many enjoyed pluralities,
which, of course, meant that a larger number than would otherwise have
been the case were poor all their lives. Swift wrote: "I never dined
with the chaplains till to-day; but my friend Gastrel and the Dean of
Rochester had often invited me, and I happened to be disengaged: it is
the worst provided table at court. We ate on pewter. Every chaplain,
when he is made a dean, gives a piece of plate, and so they have got a
little, some of it very old" ("Journal," October 6, 1711). See, too,
Swift's "Project for the Advancement of Religion," and "Directions to
the Waiting-Maid." Many private chaplains had salaries of £10 to £30
a year, with vales, and were called Mess Johns, trencher chaplains,
and young Levites (Lecky's "History of England in the Eighteenth
Century," i. 77, 78). Bishop Bramhall replied to Eachard in 1671, in
"An Answer to a Letter of Inquiry," &c., and said that some gentlemen,
at any rate, treated their chaplains with all proper respect. Edward
Chamberlayne, on the other hand, in his "Angliæ Notitia" (1669),
said that men thought it a stain to their blood to make their sons
clergymen, and that women were ashamed to marry with any of them.
[208] Oldham's "Satire addressed to a Friend that is about to leave the
University."
[209] "The last paper having been worked off in different presses,
there are some errata in one set of them, which the reader is desired
to correct," &c. (folio).
=No. 256.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Saturday, Nov. 25_, to _Tuesday, Nov. 28, 1710_.
--Nostrum est tantas componere lites.
VIRG., Eclog. iii. 108.[210]
The Proceedings of the Court of Honour, held in Sheer Lane,
on Monday, the 20th of November, 1710, before ISAAC
BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.[211]
Peter Plumb, of London, merchant, was indicted by the Honourable Mr.
Thomas Gules,[212] of Gule Hall, in the county of Salop, for that the
said Peter Plumb did in Lombard Street, London, between the hours of
two and three in the afternoon, meet the said Mr. Thomas Gules, and
after a short salutation, put on his hat, value fivepence, while the
Honourable Mr. Gules stood bareheaded for the space of two seconds.
It was further urged against the criminal, that during his discourse
with the prosecutor, he feloniously stole the wall of him, having
clapped his back against it in such a manner that it was impossible
for Mr. Gules to recover it again at his taking leave of him. The
prosecutor alleged, that he was the cadet of a very ancient family;
and that according to the principles of all the younger brothers of
the said family, he had never sullied himself with business, but had
chosen rather to starve like a man of honour than do anything beneath
his quality. He produced several witnesses, that he had never employed
himself beyond the twisting of a whip, or the making of a pair of
nut-crackers, in which he only worked for his diversion, in order to
make a present now and then to his friends. The prisoner being asked
what he could say for himself, cast several reflections upon the
Honourable Mr. Gules: as, that he was not worth a groat; that nobody
in the city would trust him for a halfpenny; that he owed him money,
which he had promised to pay him several times, but never kept his
word; and in short, that he was an idle, beggarly fellow, and of no
use to the public. This sort of language was very severely reprimanded
by the Censor, who told the criminal, that he spoke in contempt of the
court, and that he should be proceeded against for contumacy if he did
not change his style. The prisoner therefore desired to be heard by
his counsel, who urged in his defence, that he put on his hat through
ignorance, and took the wall by accident. They likewise produced
several witnesses, that he made several motions with his hat in his
hand, which are generally understood as an invitation to the person we
talk with to be covered; and that the gentleman not taking the hint,
he was forced to put on his hat, as being troubled with a cold. There
was likewise an Irishman who deposed, that he had heard him cough three
and twenty times that morning. And as for the wall, it was alleged that
he had taken it inadvertently to save himself from a shower of rain
which was then falling. The Censor having consulted the men of honour
who sat at his right hand on the bench, found they were all of opinion,
that the defence made by the prisoner's counsel did rather aggravate
than extenuate his crime; that the motions and intimations of the hat
were a token of superiority in conversation, and therefore not to be
used by the criminal to a man of the prosecutor's quality, who was
likewise vested with a double title to the wall at the time of their
conversation, both as it was the upper hand, and as it was a shelter
from the weather. The evidence being very full and clear, the jury,
without going out of court, declared their opinion unanimously by the
mouth of their foreman, that the prosecutor was bound in honour to make
the sun shine through the criminal, or, as they afterwards explained
themselves, to whip him through the lungs.
The Censor knitting his brows into a frown, and looking very sternly
upon the jury, after a little pause, gave them to know, that this court
was erected for the finding out of penalties suitable to offences,
and to restrain the outrages of private justice; and that he expected
they should moderate their verdict. The jury therefore retired, and
being willing to comply with the advices of the Censor, after an hour's
consultation, declared their opinion as follows:
"That in consideration this was Peter Plumb's first offence, and that
there did not appear any _malice prepense_ in it, as also that he
lived in good reputation among his neighbours, and that his taking the
wall was only _se defendendo_, the prosecutor should let him escape
with life, and content himself with the slitting of his nose, and the
cutting off both his ears."
Mr. Bickerstaff smiling upon the court, told them, that he thought the
punishment, even under its present mitigation, too severe; and that
such penalties might be of ill consequence in a trading nation. He
therefore pronounced sentence against the criminal in the following
manner: that his hat, which was the instrument of offence, should be
forfeited to the court; that the criminal should go to the warehouse
from whence he came, and thence, as occasion should require, proceed
to the Exchange, or Garraway's Coffee-house, in what manner he
pleased; but that neither he nor any of the family of the Plumbs should
hereafter appear in the streets of London out of their coaches, that so
the footway might be left open and undisturbed for their betters.
Dathan, a peddling Jew, and T.R., a Welshman, were indicted by the
keeper of an alehouse in Westminster, for breaking the peace and two
earthen mugs, in a dispute about the antiquity of their families,
to the great detriment of the house, and disturbance of the whole
neighbourhood. Dathan said for himself, that he was provoked to it by
the Welshman, who pretended that the Welsh were an ancienter people
than the Jews; "whereas," says he, "I can show by this genealogy in my
hand, that I am the son of Meshec, that was the son of Naboth, that
was the son of Shalem, that was the son of----" The Welshman here
interrupted him, and told him that he could produce shennalogy as well
as himself; for that he was John ap Rice, ap Shenkin, ap Shones. He
then turned himself to the Censor, and told him in the same broken
accent, and with much warmth, that the Jew would needs uphold that King
Cadwallader was younger than Issachar. Mr. Bickerstaff seemed very much
inclined to give sentence against Dathan, as being a Jew, but finding
reasons, by some expressions which the Welshman let fall in asserting
the antiquity of his family, to suspect that the said Welshman was a
Pre-Adamite,[213] he suffered the jury to go out without any previous
admonition. After some time they returned, and gave their verdict,
that it appearing the persons at the bar did neither of them wear a
sword, and that consequently they had no right to quarrel upon a point
of honour: to prevent such frivolous appeals for the future, they
should both of them be tossed in the same blanket, and there adjust
the superiority as they could agree it between themselves. The Censor
confirmed the verdict.
Richard Newman was indicted by Major Punto, for having used the words,
"Perhaps it may be so," in a dispute with the said Major. The Major
urged, that the word "perhaps" was questioning his veracity, and that
it was an indirect manner of giving him the lie. Richard Newman had
nothing more to say for himself, than that he intended no such thing,
and threw himself upon the mercy of the court. The jury brought in
their verdict special.
Mr. Bickerstaff stood up, and after having cast his eyes over the whole
assembly, hem'd thrice. He then acquainted them, that he had laid
down a rule to himself, which he was resolved never to depart from,
and which, as he conceived, would very much conduce to the shortening
the business of the court; "I mean," says he, "never to allow of the
lie being given by construction, implication, or induction, but by
the sole use of the word itself." He then proceeded to show the great
mischiefs that had arisen to the English nation from that pernicious
monosyllable; that it had bred the most fatal quarrels between the
dearest friends; that it had frequently thinned the Guards, and made
great havoc in the army; that it had sometimes weakened the city
trained-bands; and, in a word, had destroyed many of the bravest men in
the isle of Great Britain. For the prevention of which evils for the
future, he instructed the jury to present the word itself as a nuisance
in the English tongue; and further promised them, that he would, upon
such their presentment, publish an edict of the court for the entire
banishment and exclusion of it out of the discourses and conversation
of all civil societies.
"This is a true copy.--CHARLES LILLIE."
Monday next is set apart for the trial of several female causes.
_N.B._--The case of the hassock will come on between the hours of nine
and ten.[214]
FOOTNOTES:
[210] Virgil's words are, "Non nostrum inter vos tantas," &c.
[211] See No 253.
[212] Forster observed that Mr. Thomas Gules is the forerunner of Will
Wimble, of the _Spectator_.
[213] See vol. ii. p. 150.
[214] See No. 259.
=No. 257.= [ADDISON and STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Nov. 28_, to _Thursday, Nov. 30, 1710_.
In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas
Corpora: Di, cœptis (nam vos mutastis) et illac
Aspirate meis.----
OVID, Met. i. 1.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 29._
Every nation is distinguished by productions that are peculiar to it.
Great Britain is particularly fruitful in religions, that shoot up
and flourish in this climate more than in any other. We are so famous
abroad for our great variety of sects and opinions, that an ingenious
friend of mine, who is lately returned from his travels, assures
me, there is a show at this time carried up and down in Germany,
which represents all the religions of Great Britain in waxwork.
Notwithstanding that the pliancy of the matter in which the images are
wrought makes it capable of being moulded into all shapes and figures,
my friend tells me, that he did not think it possible for it to be
twisted and tortured into so many screwed faces and wry features as
appeared in several of the figures that composed the show. I was indeed
so pleased with the design of the German artist, that I begged my
friend to give me an account of it in all its particulars, which he did
after the following manner: