Esq., for having pulled out his watch and looked upon it thrice, while
the said Esquire Tattle was giving him an account of the funeral of
the said Esquire Tattle's first wife. The prisoner alleged in his
defence, that he was going to buy stocks at the time when he met
the prosecutor; and that, during the story of the prosecutor, the
said stocks rose above two per cent., to the great detriment of the
prisoner. The prisoner further brought several witnesses, that the said
Jasper Tattle, Esq., was a most notorious story-teller; that before he
met the prisoner, he had hindered one of the prisoner's acquaintance
from the pursuit of his lawful business, with the account of his
second marriage; and that he had detained another by the button of his
coat that very morning, till he had heard several witty sayings and
contrivances of the prosecutor's eldest son, who was a boy of about
five years of age. Upon the whole matter, Mr. Bickerstaff dismissed the
accusation as frivolous, and sentenced the prosecutor to pay damages to
the prisoner for what the prisoner had lost by giving him so long and
patient a hearing. He further reprimanded the prosecutor very severely,
and told him, that if he proceeded in his usual manner to interrupt the
business of mankind, he would set a fine upon him for every quarter of
an hour's impertinence, and regulate the said fine according as the
time of the person so injured should appear to be more or less precious.
Sir Paul Swash, Kt., was indicted by Peter Double, Gent., for not
returning the bow which he received of the said Peter Double, on
Wednesday the 6th instant, at the play-house in the Haymarket. The
prisoner denied the receipt of any such bow, and alleged in his
defence, that the prosecutor would oftentimes look full in his face,
but that when he bowed to the said prosecutor, he would take no notice
of it, or bow to somebody else that sat quite on the other side of
him. He likewise alleged, that several ladies had complained of the
prosecutor, who, after ogling them a quarter of an hour, upon their
making a curtsey to him, would not return the civility of a bow.
The Censor observing several glances of the prosecutor's eye, and
perceiving, that when he talked to the court, he looked upon the jury,
found reason to suspect that there was a wrong cast in his sight, which
upon examination proved true. The Censor therefore ordered the prisoner
(that he might not produce any more confusions in public assemblies)
never to bow to anybody whom he did not at the same time call to by his
name.
Oliver Bluff, and Benjamin Browbeat, were indicted for going to fight
a duel since the erection of the Court of Honour. It appeared, that
they were both taken up in the street as they passed by the court, in
their way to the fields behind Montague House.[259] The criminals would
answer nothing for themselves, but that they were going to execute
a challenge which had been made above a week before the Court of
Honour was erected. The Censor finding some reasons to suspect (by the
sturdiness of their behaviour) that they were not so very brave as they
would have the court believe them, ordered them both to be searched by
the grand jury, who found a breast-plate upon the one, and two quires
of paper upon the other. The breast-plate was immediately ordered to
be hung upon a peg over Mr. Bickerstaff's tribunal, and the paper to
be laid upon the table for the use of his clerk. He then ordered the
criminals to button up their bosoms, and, if they pleased, proceed to
their duel. Upon which they both went very quietly out of the court,
and retired to their respective lodgings.
The court then adjourned till after the holidays.
"_Copia vera._--CHARLES LILLIE."
FOOTNOTES:
[258] See Nos. 28, 41, 60, 61, and 79.
[259] A favourite place for duelling. See No. 31.
=No. 266.= [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, Dec. 19_, to _Thursday, Dec. 21, 1710_.
Rideat et pulset lasciva decentius ætas.
HOR., 2 Ep. ii. 216.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 20._
It would be a good appendix to the "Art of Living and Dying,"[260] if
any one would write the art of growing old, and teach men to resign
their pretensions to the pleasures and gallantries of youth, in
proportion to the alteration they find in themselves by the approach
of age and infirmities. The infirmities of this stage of life would be
much fewer, if we did not affect those which attend the more vigorous
and active part of our days; but instead of studying to be wiser, or
being contented with our present follies, the ambition of many of us
is also to be the same sort of fools we formerly have been. I have
often argued, as I am a professed lover of women, that our sex grows
old with a much worse grace than the other does; and have ever been of
opinion, that there are more well-pleased old women than old men. I
thought it a good reason for this, that the ambition of the fair sex
being confined to advantageous marriages, or shining in the eyes of
men, their parts were over sooner, and consequently the errors in the
performance of them. The conversation of this evening has not convinced
me of the contrary; for one or two fop women shall not make a balance
for the crowds of coxcombs among ourselves, diversified according to
the different pursuits of pleasure and business.
Returning home this evening a little before my usual hour, I scarce
had seated myself in my easy-chair, stirred the fire and stroked my
cat, but I heard somebody come rumbling upstairs. I saw my door opened,
and a human figure advancing towards me, so fantastically put together,
'twas some minutes before I discovered it to be my old and intimate
friend Sam Trusty.[261] Immediately I rose up, and placed him in my
own seat, a compliment I pay to few. The first thing he uttered was,
"Isaac, fetch me a cup of your cherry brandy before you offer to ask
me any question." He drank a lusty draught, sat silent for some time,
and at last broke out: "I am come," quoth he, "to insult thee for an
old fantastic dotard as thou art in ever defending the women. I have
this evening visited two widows, who are now in that state I have
often heard you call an after-life:[262] I suppose you mean by it an
existence which grows out of past entertainments, and is an untimely
delight in the satisfactions which they once set their hearts upon
too much to be ever able to relinquish. Have but patience," continued
he, "till I give you a succinct account of my ladies, and of this
night's adventure. They are much of an age, but very different in
their characters: the one of them, with all the advances which years
have made upon her, goes on in a certain romantic road of love and
friendship which she fell into in her teens; the other has transferred
the amorous passions of her first years to the love of cronies, pets
and favourites, with which she is always surrounded; but the genius of
each of them will best appear by the account of what happened to me at
their houses. About five this afternoon, being tired with study, the
weather inviting, and time lying a little upon my hands, I resolved,
at the instigation of my evil genius, to visit them, their husbands
having been our contemporaries. This I thought I could do without much
trouble, for both live in the very next street. I went first to my Lady
Camomile, and the butler, who had lived long in the family, and seen me
often in his master's time, ushered me very civilly into the parlour,
and told me, though my lady had given strict orders to be denied, he
was sure I might be admitted, and bid the black boy[263] acquaint his
lady, that I was to wait upon her. In the window lay two letters, one
broke open, the other fresh sealed with a wafer: the first directed to
the divine Cosmelia, the second to the charming Lucinda; but both, by
the indented characters, appeared to have been writ by very unsteady
hands. Such uncommon addresses increased my curiosity, and put me upon
asking my old friend the butler, if he knew who those persons were?
'Very well,' says he: 'this is from Mrs. Furbish to my lady, an old
schoolfellow and great crony of her ladyship's, and this the answer.' I
inquired in what country she lived. 'Oh dear!' says he, 'but just by in
the neighbourhood. Why, she was here all this morning, and that letter
came and was answered within these two hours. They have taken an odd
fancy, you must know, to call one another hard names, but for all that
they love one another hugely.' By this time the boy returned with his
lady's humble service to me, desiring I would excuse her, for she could
not possibly see me, nor anybody else, for it was opera night.
"Methinks," says I, "such innocent folly as two old women's courtship
to each other should rather make you merry, than put you out of
humour." "Peace, good Isaac," says he, "no interruption I beseech you.
I got soon to Mrs. Feeble's, she that was formerly Betty Frisk; you
must needs remember her, Tom Feeble of Brasenose fell in love with her
for her fine dancing. Well, Mrs. Ursula, without further ceremony,
carries me directly up to her mistress's chamber, where I found her
environed by four of the most mischievous animals that can ever infest
a family: an old shock[264] dog with one eye, a monkey chained to one
side of the chimney, a great grey squirrel to the other, and a parrot
waddling in the middle of the room. However, for a while, all was in a
profound tranquillity. Upon the mantel-tree, for I am a pretty curious
observer, stood a pot of lambative electuary,[265] with a stick of
liquorice, and near it a phial of rosewater and powder of tutty.[266]
Upon the table lay a pipe filled with betony[267] and coltsfoot a
roll of wax-candle, a silver spitting-pot, and a Seville orange. The
lady was placed in a large wicker-chair, and her feet wrapped up in
flannel, supported by cushions; and in this attitude (would you believe
it, Isaac) was she reading a romance with spectacles on. The first
compliments over, as she was industriously endeavouring to enter upon
conversation, a violent fit of coughing seized her. This awakened
Shock, and in a trice the whole room was in an uproar; for the dog
barked, the squirrel squealed, the monkey chattered, the parrot
screamed, and Ursula, to appease them, was more clamorous than all the
rest. You, Isaac, who know how any harsh noise affects my head, may
guess what I suffered from the hideous din of these discordant sounds.
At length all was appeased, and quiet restored: a chair was drawn
for me, where I was no sooner seated, but the parrot fixed his horny
beak, as sharp as a pair of shears, in one of my heels, just above the
shoe. I sprang from the place with an unusual agility, and so being
within the monkey's reach, he snatches off my new bob wig, and throws
it upon two apples that were roasting by a sullen sea-coal fire.[268]
I was nimble enough to save it from any further damage than singeing
the foretop. I put it on, and composing myself as well as I could, I
drew my chair towards the other side of the chimney. The good lady,
as soon as she had recovered breath, employed it in making a thousand
apologies, and with great eloquence, and a numerous train of words,
lamented my misfortune. In the middle of her harangue, I felt something
scratching near my knee, and feeling what it should be, found the
squirrel had got into my coat pocket. As I endeavoured to remove him
from his burrow, he made his teeth meet through the fleshy part of my
forefinger. This gave me an inexpressible pain. The Hungary water[269]
was immediately brought to bathe it, and gold-beaters' skin applied
to stop the blood. The lady renewed her excuses; but being now out of
all patience, I abruptly took my leave, and hobbling downstairs with
heedless haste, I set my foot full in a pail of water, and down we
came to the bottom together." Here my friend concluded his narrative,
and, with a composed countenance, I began to make him compliments of
condolence; but he started from his chair, and said, "Isaac, you may
spare your speeches, I expect no reply: when I told you this, I knew
you would laugh at me; but the next woman that makes me ridiculous
shall be a young one."
FOOTNOTES:
[260] Jeremy Taylor's "Rule and Exercise of Holy Living and Dying" was
published in 1650.
[261] Perhaps Jabez Hughes, brother of John Hughes. A letter by the
latter in No. 73 is signed "Will Trusty."
[262] Cf. _Spectator_, No. 306, where a young lady who had been
disfigured by smallpox, says, "I was taken off in the prime of youth,
and according to the course of nature may have forty years' after-life
to come."
[263] See No. 245.
[264] Rough-coated. In Pope's "Rape of the Lock" Belinda's dog is named
Shock.
[265] A compound of sweet substances, in which medicines could be
concealed and thus be licked up without being noticed.
[266] An impure oxide of zinc, used in soothing irritated surfaces on
the flesh.
[267] Betony was smoked to cure headache, vertigo, and sore eyes;
coltsfoot, for coughs and lung affections (Miller's "Herbal," 1722).
[268] See No. 263.
[269] See No. 126. Full directions for making Hungary water, of various
qualities, are given in Lillie's "British Perfumer," pp. 142-145.
=No. 267.= [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, Dec. 21_, to _Saturday, Dec. 23, 1710_.
Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, et omnis
Restinxit, stellas exortus ut aetherius sol.
LUCR. iii. 1043.
_From my own Apartment, Dec. 22._
I have heard that it is a rule among the conventuals of several orders
in the Romish Church to shut themselves up at a certain time of the
year, not only from the world in general, but from the members of
their own fraternity, and to pass away several days by themselves
in settling accounts between their Maker and their own souls, in
cancelling unrepented crimes, and renewing their contracts of obedience
for the future. Such stated times for particular acts of devotion, or
the exercise of certain religious duties, have been enjoined in all
civil governments, whatever deity they worshipped, or whatever religion
they professed. That which may be done at all times, is often totally
neglected and forgotten, unless fixed and determined to some time more
than another; and therefore, though several duties may be suitable to
every day of our lives, they are most likely to be performed if some
days are more particularly set apart for the practice of them. Our
Church has accordingly instituted several seasons of devotion, when
time, custom, prescription, and (if I may so say) the fashion itself,
call upon a man to be serious and attentive to the great end of his
being.
I have hinted in some former papers, that the greatest and wisest of
men in all ages and countries, particularly in Rome and Greece, were
renowned for their piety and virtue. It is now my intention to show how
those in our own nation, that have been unquestionably the most eminent
for learning and knowledge, were likewise the most eminent for their
adherence to the religion of their country.
I might produce very shining examples from among the clergy; but
because priestcraft is the common cry of every cavilling empty
scribbler, I shall show, that all the laymen who have exerted a more
than ordinary genius in their writings, and were the glory of their
times, were men whose hopes were filled with immortality, and the
prospect of future rewards, and men who lived in a dutiful submission
to all the doctrines of revealed religion.
I shall in this paper only instance Sir Francis Bacon, a man who for
the greatness of genius, and compass of knowledge, did honour to
his age and country; I could almost say to human nature itself. He
possessed at once all those extraordinary talents which were divided
amongst the greatest authors of antiquity. He had the sound, distinct,
comprehensive knowledge of Aristotle, with all the beautiful lights,
graces, and embellishments of Cicero. One does not know which to admire
most in his writings, the strength of reason, force of style, or
brightness of imagination.
This author has remarked in several parts of his works, that a
thorough insight into philosophy makes a good believer, and that a
smattering in it naturally produces such a race of despicable infidels
as the little profligate writers of the present age, whom (I must
confess) I have always accused to myself, not so much for their want of
faith as their want of learning.
I was infinitely pleased to find among the works of this extraordinary
man a prayer of his own composing, which, for the elevation of thought,
and greatness of expression, seems rather the devotion of an angel than
a man. His principal fault seems to have been the excess of that virtue
which covers a multitude of faults. This betrayed him to so great an
indulgence towards his servants, who made a corrupt use of it, that
it stripped him of all those riches and honours which a long series
of merits had heaped upon him. But in this prayer, at the same time
that we find him prostrating himself before the great mercy-seat, and
humbled under afflictions which at that time lay heavy upon him, we see
him supported by the sense of his integrity, his zeal, his devotion,
and his love to mankind, which give him a much higher figure in the
minds of thinking men, than that greatness had done from which he was
fallen. I shall beg leave to write down the prayer itself, with the
title to it, as it was found among his lordship's papers, written in
his own hand; not being able to furnish my reader with an entertainment
more suitable to this solemn time.[270]
A PRAYER OR PSALM MADE BY MY LORD BACON, CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.
"Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Father; from my youth up my
Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter. Thou, O Lord, soundest and
searchest the depths and secrets of all hearts; Thou acknowledgest
the upright of heart; Thou judgest the hypocrite; Thou ponderest men's
thoughts and doings as in a balance; Thou measurest their intentions as
with a line; vanity and crooked ways cannot be hid from Thee.
"Remember, O Lord! how Thy servant hath walked before Thee; remember
what I have first sought, and what hath been principal in my
intentions. I have loved Thy assemblies, I have mourned for the
divisions of Thy Church, I have delighted in the brightness of Thy
sanctuary. This vine which Thy right hand hath planted in this nation,
I have ever prayed unto Thee, that it might have the first and the
latter rain, and that it might stretch her branches to the seas, and
to the floods. The state and bread of the poor and oppressed have been
precious in mine eyes; I have hated all cruelty and hardness of heart;
I have (though in a despised weed) procured the good of all men. If
any have been my enemies, I thought not of them, neither hath the sun
almost set upon my displeasure; but I have been as a dove, free from
superfluity of maliciousness. Thy creatures have been my books, but Thy
Scriptures much more. I have sought Thee in the courts, fields, and
gardens, but I have found Thee in Thy temples.
"Thousands have been my sins, and ten thousands my transgressions, but
Thy sanctifications have remained with me, and my heart (through Thy
grace) hath been an unquenched coal upon Thine altar.
"O Lord, my strength! I have since my youth met with Thee in all my
ways, by Thy fatherly compassions, by Thy comfortable chastisements,
and by Thy most visible providence. As Thy favours have increased
upon me, so have Thy corrections; so as Thou hast been always near
me, O Lord! And ever as my worldly blessings were exalted, so secret
darts from Thee have pierced me; and when I have ascended before men,
I have descended in humiliation before Thee. And now when I thought
most of peace and honour, Thy hand is heavy upon me, and hath humbled
me according to Thy former loving-kindness, keeping me still in Thy
fatherly school, not as a bastard, but as a child. Just are Thy
judgments upon me for my sins, which are more in number than the sands
of the sea, but have no proportion to Thy mercies; for what are the
sands of the sea? Earth, heavens, and all these are nothing to Thy
mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I confess before Thee, that I am
debtor to Thee for the gracious talent of Thy gifts and graces, which I
have neither put into a napkin, nor put it (as I ought) to exchangers,
where it might have made best profit, but misspent it in things for
which I was least fit: so I may truly say, my soul hath been a stranger
in the course of my pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me, O Lord, for my
Saviour's sake, and receive me unto Thy bosom, or guide me in Thy ways."
FOOTNOTES:
[270] Christmas.
=No. 268.= [STEELE.
From _Saturday, Dec. 23_, to _Tuesday, Dec. 26, 1710_.
----"O te, Bolane, cerebri
Felicem!" Aiebam tacitus; quum quidlibet ille
Garriret.----
HOR., 1 Sat. ix. 11.
_From my own Apartment._
At my coming home last night, I found upon my table the following
petition or project, sent me from Lloyd's Coffee-house[271] in the
city, with a present of port wine, which had been bought at a late
auction held in that place:
"To ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esq., Censor of Great Britain.
_Lloyd's Coffee-house, Lombard Street, Dec. 23._
"We the customers of this coffee-house, observing that you have taken
into your consideration the great mischiefs daily done in this city by
coffee-house orators, do humbly beg leave to represent to you, that
this coffee-house being provided with a pulpit for the benefit of such
auctions that are frequently made in this place, it is our custom, upon
the first coming in of the news, to order a youth, who officiates as
the Kidney[272] of the coffee-house, to get into the pulpit, and read
every paper with a loud and distinct voice, while the whole audience
are sipping their respective liquors. We do therefore, sir, humbly
propose, that there be a pulpit erected within every coffee-house
of this city and the adjacent parts; that one of the waiters of the
coffee-house be nominated as reader to the said pulpit; that after
the news of the day has been published by the said lecturer, some
politician of good note do ascend into the said pulpit; and after
having chosen for his text any article of the said news, that he do
establish the authority of such article, clear the doubts that may
arise thereupon, compare it with parallel texts in other papers,
advance upon it wholesome points of doctrine, and draw from it salutary
conclusions for the benefit and edification of all that hear him. We
do likewise humbly propose, that upon any such politician's quitting
the pulpit, he shall be succeeded by any other orator that finds
himself moved by the same public spirit, who shall be at full liberty
either to enforce or overthrow what the other has said before him,
and may in the same manner be succeeded by any other politician, who
shall with the same liberty confirm or impugn his reasons, strengthen
or invalidate his conjectures, enlarge upon his schemes, or erect new
ones of his own. We do likewise further propose, that if any person, of
what age or rank soever, do presume to cavil at any paper that has been
read, or to hold forth upon it longer than the space of one minute,
that he be immediately ordered up into the pulpit, there to make good
anything that he has suggested upon the floor. We do likewise further
propose, that if any one plays the orator in the ordinary coffee-house
conversation, whether it be upon peace or war, on plays or sermons,
business or poetry, that he be forthwith desired to take his place in
the pulpit.
"This, sir, we humbly presume may in a great measure put a stop to
those superficial statesmen who would not dare to stand up in this
manner before a whole congregation of politicians, notwithstanding the
long and tedious harangues and dissertations which they daily utter in
private circles, to the breaking of many honest tradesmen, the seducing
of several eminent citizens, the making of numberless malcontents, and
to the great detriment and disquiet of her Majesty's subjects."
I do heartily concur with my ingenious friends of the above-mentioned
coffee-house in these their proposals; and because I apprehend there
may be reasons to put an immediate stop to the grievance complained
of, it is my intention that, till such time as the aforesaid pulpits
can be erected, every orator do place himself within the bar, and from
thence dictate whatsoever he shall think necessary for the public good.
And further, because I am very desirous that proper ways and means
should be found out for the suppressing of story-tellers and fine
talkers[273] in all ordinary conversation whatsoever, I do insist, that
in every private club, company, or meeting over a bottle, there be
always an elbow-chair placed at the table, and that as soon as any one
begins a long story, or extends his discourse beyond the space of one
minute, he be forthwith thrust into the said elbow-chair, unless upon
any of the company's calling out to the chair, he breaks off abruptly,
and holds his tongue.
There are two species of men, notwithstanding anything that has been
here said, whom I would exempt from the disgrace of the elbow-chair.
The first are those buffoons that have a talent of mimicking the speech
and behaviour of other persons, and turning all their patrons, friends
and acquaintance, into ridicule. I look upon your pantomime as a legion
in a man, or at least to be like Virgil's monster, with a hundred
mouths and as many tongues: