From _Thursday, May 19_, to _Saturday, May 21_, 1709.
* * * * *
From my own Apartment, May 20.
It is observed too often, that men of wit do so much employ their
thoughts upon fine speculations, that things useful to mankind are
wholly neglected; and they are busy in making emendations upon some
enclitics in a Greek author, while obvious things, that every man may
have use for, are wholly overlooked. It would be a happy thing, if such
as have real capacities for public service, were employed in works of
general use; but because a thing is everybody's business, it is nobody's
business: this is for want of public spirit. As for my part, who am only
a student, and a man of no great interest, I can only remark things, and
recommend the correction of them to higher powers. There is an offence I
have a thousand times lamented, but fear I shall never see remedied;
which is, that in a nation where learning is so frequent as in Great
Britain, there should be so many gross errors as there are in the very
directions of things, wherein accuracy is necessary for the conduct of
life. This is notoriously observed by all men of letters when they first
come to town (at which time they are usually curious that way) in the
inscriptions on sign-posts. I have cause to know this matter as well as
anybody; for I have (when I went to Merchant Taylors' School) suffered
stripes for spelling after the signs I observed in my way; though at the
same time, I must confess, staring at those inscriptions first gave me
an idea and curiosity for medals; in which I have since arrived at some
knowledge.[219] Many a man has lost his way and his dinner by this
general want of skill in orthography: for, considering that the painters
are usually so very bad, that you cannot know the animal under whose
sign you are to live that day, how must the stranger be misled, if it be
wrong spelled, as well as ill painted? I have a cousin now in town, who
has answered under Bachelor at Queen's College, whose name is Humphrey
Mopstaff (he is akin to us by his mother). This young man going to see a
relation in Barbican, wandered a whole day by the mistake of one letter;
for it was written, "This is the BEER," instead of "This is the BEAR."
He was set right at last, by inquiring for the house, of a fellow who
could not read, and knew the place mechanically, only by having been
often drunk there. But, in the name of goodness, let us make our
learning of use to us, or not. Was not this a shame, that a philosopher
should be thus directed by a cobbler? I'll be sworn, if it were known
how many have suffered in this kind by false spelling since the union,
this matter would not long lie thus. What makes these evils the more
insupportable, is, that they are so easily amended, and nothing done in
it. But it is so far from that, that the evil goes on in other arts as
well as orthography. Places are confounded, as well for want of proper
distinctions, as things for want of true characters. Had I not come by
the other day very early in the morning, there might have been mischief
done; for a worthy North Briton was swearing at Stocks Market,[220] that
they would not let him in at his lodgings; but I knowing the gentleman,
and observing him look often at the King on horseback, and then double
his oaths, that he was sure he was right, found he mistook that for
Charing Cross, by the erection of the like statue in each place. I
grant, private men may distinguish their abodes as they please; as one
of my acquaintance who lives at Marylebone, has put a good sentence of
his own invention upon his dwelling-place, to find out where he lives:
he is so near London, that his conceit is this, "The country in town;
or, the town in the country"; for you know, if they are both in one,
they are all one. Besides that, the ambiguity is not of great
consequence; if you are safe at the place, it is no matter if you do not
distinctly know where to say the place is. But to return to the
orthography of public places: I propose that every tradesman in the
cities of London and Westminster shall give me sixpence a quarter for
keeping their signs in repair, as to the grammatical part; and I will
take into my house a Swiss Count[221] of my acquaintance, who can
remember all their names without book, for despatch sake, setting up the
head of the said foreigner for my sign; the features being strong, and
fit for hanging high.
St. James's Coffee-house, May 20.
This day a mail arrived from Holland, by which there are advices from
Paris, that the kingdom of France is in the utmost misery and
distraction. The merchants of Lyons have been at Court, to remonstrate
their great sufferings by the failure of their public credit; but have
received no other satisfaction, than promises of a sudden peace; and
that their debts will be made good by funds out of the revenue, which
will not answer, but in case of the peace which is promised. In the
meantime, the cries of the common people are loud for want of bread, the
gentry have lost all spirit and zeal for their country, and the king
himself seems to languish under the anxiety of the pressing calamities
of the nation, and retires from hearing those grievances which he hath
not power to redress. Instead of preparations for war, and the defence
of their country, there is nothing to be seen but evident marks of a
general despair. Processions, fastings, public mournings, and
humiliations, are become the sole employments of a people, who were
lately the most vain and gay of any in the universe.
The Pope has written to the French king on the subject of a peace, and
his Majesty has answered in the lowliest terms, that he entirely submits
his affairs to divine providence, and shall soon show the world, that he
prefers the tranquillity of his people to the glory of his arms, and
extent of his conquests.
Letters from the Hague of the 24th say, that his Excellency the Lord
Townshend delivered his credentials on that day to the States-General,
as plenipotentiary from the Queen of Great Britain; as did also Count
Zinzendorf, who bears the same character from the Emperor.
Prince Eugene intended to set out the next day for Brussels, and his
Grace the Duke of Marlborough on the Tuesday following. The Marquis de
Torcy talks daily of going, but still continues here. The army of the
Allies is to assemble on the 7th of the next month at Helchin; though it
is generally believed, that the preliminaries to a treaty are fully
adjusted.
The approach of a peace[222] strikes a panic through our armies, though
that of a battle could never do it, and they almost repent of their
bravery, that made such haste to humble themselves and the French king.
The Duke of Marlborough, though otherwise the greatest general of the
age, has plainly shown himself unacquainted with the arts of husbanding
a war. He might have grown as old as the Duke of Alva, or Prince
Waldeck, in the Low Countries, and yet have got reputation enough every
year for any reasonable man: for the command of general in Flanders hath
been ever looked upon as a provision for life. For my part, I can't see
how his grace can answer it to the world, for the great eagerness he
hath shown to send a hundred thousand of the bravest fellows in Europe a
begging. But the private gentlemen of the infantry will be able to shift
for themselves; a brave man can never starve in a country stocked with
hen-roosts. "There is not a yard of linen," says my honoured progenitor,
Sir John Falstaff, "in my whole company; but as for that," says this
worthy knight, "I am in no great pain, we shall find shirts on every
hedge."[223] There is another sort of gentlemen whom I am much more
concerned for, and that is, the ingenious fraternity of which I have the
honour to be an unworthy member; I mean the news-writers of Great
Britain, whether Postmen or Postboys,[224] or by what other name or
title soever dignified or distinguished. The case of these gentlemen is,
I think, more hard than that of the soldiers, considering that they
have taken more towns, and fought more battles. They have been upon
parties and skirmishes, when our armies have lain still; and given the
general assault to many a place, when the besiegers were quiet in their
trenches. They have made us masters of several strong towns many weeks
before our generals could do it; and completed victories, when our
greatest captains have been glad to come off with a drawn battle. Where
Prince Eugene has slain his thousands, Boyer[225] has slain his ten
thousands. This, gentleman can indeed be never enough commended for his
courage and intrepidity during this whole war: he has laid about him
with an inexpressible fury, and like the offended Marius of ancient
Rome, made such havoc among his countrymen, as must be the work of two
or three ages to repair. It must be confessed, the redoubted Mr.
Buckley[226] has shed as much blood as the former; but I cannot forbear
saying (and I hope it will not look like envy) that we regard our
brother Buckley as a Drawcansir,[227] who spares neither friend nor foe,
but generally kills as many of his own side as the enemy's. It is
impossible for this ingenious sort of men to subsist after a peace:
every one remembers the shifts they were driven to in the reign of King
Charles II., when they could not furnish out a single paper of news,
without lighting up a comet in Germany, or a fire in Moscow. There
scarce appeared a letter without a paragraph on an earthquake. Prodigies
were grown so familiar, that they had lost their name, as a great poet
of that age has it. I remember Mr. Dyer,[228] who is justly looked upon
by all the fox-hunters in the nation as the greatest statesman our
country has produced, was particularly famous for dealing in whales;
insomuch that in five months' time (for I had the curiosity to examine
his letters on that occasion) he brought three into the mouth of the
river Thames, besides two porpoises and a sturgeon. The judicious and
wary Mr. I. Dawks[229] hath all along been the rival of this great
writer, and got himself a reputation from plagues and famines, by which,
in those days, he destroyed as great multitudes as he has lately done by
the sword. In every dearth of news, Grand Cairo was sure to be
unpeopled.
It being therefore visible, that our society will be greater sufferers
by the peace than the soldiery itself; insomuch that the _Daily
Courant_[230] is in danger of being broken, my friend Dyer of being
reformed, and the very best of the whole band of being reduced to
half-pay; might I presume to offer anything in the behalf of my
distressed brethren, I would humbly move, that an appendix of proper
apartments furnished with pen, ink, and paper, and other necessaries of
life should be added to the Hospital of Chelsea,[231] for the relief of
such decayed news-writers as have served their country in the wars; and
that for their exercise, they should compile the annals of their
brother-veterans, who have been engaged in the same service, and are
still obliged to do duty after the same manner.
I cannot be thought to speak this out of an eye to any private interest;
for, as my chief scenes of action are coffee-houses, play-houses, and my
own apartment, I am in no need of camps, fortifications, and fields of
battle, to support me; I don't call out for heroes and generals to my
assistance. Though the officers are broken, and the armies disbanded, I
shall still be safe as long as there are men or women, or politicians,
or lovers, or poets, or nymphs, or swains, or cits, or courtiers in
being.
[Footnote 218: It is very possible that the first article in this number
(see the allusion to medals) is by Addison, as well as the account of
the Distress of the News-writers.]
[Footnote 219: There is much about medals in Addison's "Remarks on
several Parts of Italy," 1705. His "Dialogues on Medals" was published
posthumously by Tickell.]
[Footnote 220: Stocks Market was so named from a pair of stocks which
were erected there as early as the 13th century. The two statues
referred to were really very unlike. The one was of white marble; the
other, of brass, was originally intended for John Sobieski, King of
Poland, but being bought by Sir Robert Viner in 1672, it was altered and
erected in honour of King Charles II. The Turk underneath the horse was
metamorphosed into Oliver Cromwell; but his turban escaped unnoticed or
unaltered, to testify the truth. The statue in Stocks Market, with the
conduit and all its ornaments, was removed to make way for the Mansion
House in 1739. Marvell refers to these statues in his "Satires."]
[Footnote 221: Heidegger. See No. 12.]
[Footnote 222: The remainder of this paper is by Addison. See Steele's
Preface, and his Dedication of "The Drummer" to Congreve.]
[Footnote 223: "There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and
the half-shirt is two napkins, tacked together, and thrown over the
shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say
the truth, stolen from my host of St. Alban, or the red-nosed innkeeper
of Daintry. But that's all one, they'll find linen enough on every
hedge." (1 Henry IV., act iii. sc. 2).]
[Footnote 224: The Tory _Postboy_ was published by Abel Roper; and the
Whig _Flying Post_ by George Ridpath:
"There Ridpath, Roper, cudgelled might ye view,
The very worsted still looked black and blue."
("Dunciad," ii. 149.) It is remarkable that both Roper and Ridpath died
on the same day, Feb. 5, 1726. Swift and others sometimes contributed to
Roper's paper for party purposes.]
[Footnote 225: Abel Boyer (1667-1729), author of "The Political State of
Great Britain," was a Whig journalist towards whom Swift felt bitterly.
"The Secretary promises me to swinge him," he wrote in 1711; "I must
make that rogue an example for a warning to others." Boyer compiled a
valuable French and English dictionary.]
[Footnote 226: Samuel Buckley was printer of the _London Gazette, Daily
Courant_, and _Spectator_. He died in 1741.]
[Footnote 227: Drawcansir, in "The Rehearsal," is described by another
character as "a great hero, who frights his mistress, snubs up kings,
baffles armies, and does what he will, without regard to number, good
sense, or justice."]
[Footnote 228: John Dyer was a Jacobite journalist who issued a
news-letter to country subscribers, among whom was Sir Roger de Coverley
(_Spectator_, No. 127), by whom he was held in high esteem. Defoe
(_Review_, vi. 132) says that Dyer "did not so much write what his
readers should believe, as what they would believe." Vellum, in
Addison's "The Drummer" (act ii. sc. i), cannot but believe his master
is living, "because the news of his death was first published in Dyer's
Letter." See also _Spectator_, Nos. 43 and 457. At the trial of John
Tutchin for seditious libel (Howell's "State Trials," xiv. 1150), on
complaint being made by counsel that Dyer had charged him with broaching
seditious principles, Lord Chief Justice Holt said, "Dyer is very
familiar with me too sometimes; but you need not fear such a little
scandalous paper of such a scandalous author."]
[Footnote 229: Ichabod Dawks was another "epistolary historian" (see
_Spectator_, No. 457, and _Tatler_, No. 178). Dawks and Dyer are both
introduced by Edmund Smith, author of "Phædra and Hippolitus," in his
poem, "Charlettus Percivallo suo":
"Scribe securus, quid agit Senatus,
Quid caput stertit grave Lambethanum,
Quid comes Guilford, quid habent novorum.
"Dawksque Dyerque."
]
[Footnote 230: The _Daily Courant_, our first daily newspaper, was begun
in 1702.]
[Footnote 231: Chelsea Hospital, for old soldiers, was founded in 1682.]
No. 19. [STEELE.
From _Saturday, May 21_, to _Tuesday, May 24_, 1709.
* * * * *
From my own Apartment, May 23.
There is nothing can give a man of any consideration greater pain, than
to see order and distinction laid aside amongst men, especially when the
rank (of which he himself is a member) is intruded upon by such as have
no pretence to that honour. The appellation of Esquire is the most
notoriously abused in this kind of any class amongst men, insomuch that
it is become almost the subject of derision: but I will be bold to say,
this behaviour towards it proceeds from the ignorance of the people in
its true origin. I shall therefore, as briefly as possible, do myself
and all true esquires the justice to look into antiquity upon this
subject.
In the first ages of the world, before the invention of jointures and
settlements, when the noble passion of love had possession of the hearts
of men, and the fair sex were not yet cultivated into the merciful
disposition which they have showed in latter centuries, it was natural
for great and heroic spirits to retire to rivulets, woods, and caves, to
lament their destiny, and the cruelty of the fair persons who were deaf
to their lamentations. The hero in this distress was generally in
armour, and in a readiness to fight any man he met with, especially if
distinguished by any extraordinary qualifications, it being the nature
of heroic love to hate all merit, lest it should come within the
observation of the cruel one, by whom its own perfections are neglected.
A lover of this kind had always about him a person of a second value,
and subordinate to him, who could hear his afflictions, carry an
enchantment for his wounds, hold his helmet when he was eating (if ever
he did eat); or in his absence, when he was retired to his apartment in
any king's palace, tell the prince himself, or perhaps his daughter, the
birth, parentage, and adventures, of his valiant master. This trusty
companion was styled his esquire, and was always fit for any offices
about him; was as gentle and chaste as a gentleman usher, quick and
active as an equerry, smooth and eloquent as a master of the ceremonies.
A man thus qualified was the first, as the ancients affirm, who was
called an esquire; and none without these accomplishments ought to
assume our order: but, to the utter disgrace and confusion of the
heralds, every pretender is admitted into this fraternity, even persons
the most foreign to this courteous institution. I have taken an
inventory of all within this city, and looked over every letter in the
post-office for my better information. There are of the Middle Temple,
including all in the buttery books, and in the lists of the house, 5000.
In the Inner, 4000. In the King's Bench Walks, the whole buildings are
inhabited by esquires only. The adjacent street of Essex, from Morris'
Coffee-house, and the turning towards the Grecian, you cannot meet one
who is not an esquire, till you take water. Every house in Norfolk and
Arundel Streets is governed also by a squire, or his lady. Soho Square,
Bloomsbury Square, and all other places where the floors rise above nine
feet, are so many universities, where you enter yourselves, and become
of our order. However, if this were the worst of the evil, it were to be
supported, because they are generally men of some figure and use; though
I know no pretence they have to an honour which had its rise from
chivalry. But if you travel into the counties of Great Britain, we are
still more imposed upon by innovation. We are indeed derived from the
field: but shall that give title to all that ride mad after foxes, that
halloo when they see a hare, or venture their necks full speed after a
hawk, immediately to commence esquires? No, our order is temperate,
cleanly, sober, and chaste; but these rural esquires commit immodesties
upon haycocks, wear shirts half a week, and are drunk twice a day. These
men are also to the last degree excessive in their food: an esquire of
Norfolk eats two pounds of dumpling every meal, as if obliged to it by
our order: an esquire of Hampshire is as ravenous in devouring hogs'
flesh: one of Essex has as little mercy on calves. But I must take the
liberty to protest against them, and acquaint those persons, that it is
not the quantity they eat, but the manner of eating, that shows a
squire. But above all, I am most offended at small quillmen, and
transcribing clerks, who are all come into our order, for no reason that
I know of, but that they can easily flourish it at the end of their
name. I'll undertake, that if you read the superscriptions to all the
offices in the kingdom, you will not find three letters directed to any
but esquires. I have myself a couple of clerks, and the rogues make
nothing of leaving messages upon each other's desk: one directs, to
"Degory Goosequill, Esq."; to which the other replies by a note, to
"Nehemiah Dashwell, Esq.; with respect." In a word, it is now, _populus
armigerorum_, a people of esquires. And I don't know, but, by the late
Act of Naturalisation,[232] foreigners will assume that title, as part
of the immunity of being Englishmen. All these improprieties flow from
the negligence of the Heralds' Office. Those gentlemen in parti-coloured
habits do not so rightly, as they ought, understand themselves; though
they are dressed _cap-a-pié_ in hieroglyphics, they are inwardly but
ignorant men. I asked an acquaintance of mine, who is a man of wit, but
of no fortune, and is forced to appear as Jack Pudding on the stage to a
mountebank: "Prithee, Jack, why is your coat of so many colours?" He
replied, "I act a fool, and this spotted dress is to signify, that every
man living has a weak place about him; for I am knight of the shire, and
represent you all." I wish the heralds would know as well as this man
does, in his way, that they are to act for us in the case of our arms
and appellations: we should not then be jumbled together in so
promiscuous and absurd a manner. I design to take this matter into
further consideration, and no man shall be received as an esquire, who
cannot bring a certificate, that he has conquered some lady's obdurate
heart; that he can lead up a country dance, or carry a message between
her and her lover, with address, secrecy and diligence. A squire is
properly born for the service of the sex, and his credentials shall be
signed by three toasts, and one prude, before his title shall be
received in my office.
Will's Coffee-house, May 23.
On Saturday last was presented, "The Busy Body," a comedy, written (as I
have heretofore remarked) by a woman.[233] The plot and incidents of the
play are laid with that subtlety of spirit which is peculiar to females
of wit, and is very seldom well performed by those of the other sex, in
whom craft in love is an act of invention, and not, as with women, the
effect of nature and instinct.
To-morrow will be acted a play, called, "The Trip to the Jubilee."[234]
This performance is the greatest instance that we can have of the
irresistible force of proper action. The dialogue in itself has
something too low to bear a criticism upon it: but Mr. Wilks enters into
the part with so much skill, that the gallantry, the youth, and gaiety
of a young man of a plentiful fortune, is looked upon with as much
indulgence on the stage, as in real life, without any of those
intermixtures of wit and humour, which usually prepossess us in favour
of such characters in other plays.
St. James's Coffee-house, May 23.
Letters from the Hague of the 23rd instant, N.S., say, Mr. Walpole[235]
(who is since arrived) was going with all expedition to Great Britain,
whither they doubted not but he carried with him the preliminaries to a
treaty of peace. The French Minister, Monsieur Torcy, has been observed
in this whole negotiation to turn his discourse upon the calamities sent
down by Heaven upon France, and imputed the necessities they were under
to the immediate hand of Providence, in inflicting a general scarcity of
provision, rather than the superior genius of the generals, or the
bravery of the armies against them. It would be impious not to
acknowledge the indulgence of Heaven to us; but at the same time, as we
are to love our enemies, we are glad to see them mortified enough to mix
Christianity with their politics. An authentic letter from Madame
Maintenon to Monsieur Torcy has been stolen by a person about him, who
has communicated a copy of it to some of the dependants of a Minister of
the Allies. That epistle is writ in the most pathetic manner imaginable,
and in a style which shows her genius, that has so long engrossed the
heart of this great monarch.[236]
"SIR,
"I received yours, and am sensible of the address and capacity with
which you have hitherto transacted the great affair under your
management. You well observe, that our wants here are not to be
concealed; and that it is vanity to use artifices with the knowing men
with whom you are to deal. Let me beg you therefore, in this
representation of our circumstances, to lay aside art, which ceases to
be such when it is seen, and make use of all your skill, to gain us what
advantages you can from the enemy's jealousy of each other's greatness;
which is the place where only you have room for any dexterity. If you
have any passion for your unhappy country, or any affection for your
distressed master, come home with peace. O Heaven! Do I live to talk of
Lewis the Great as the object of pity? The king shows a great uneasiness
to be informed of all that passes; but at the same time, is fearful of
every one who appears in his presence, lest he should bring an account
of some new calamity. I know not in what terms to represent my thoughts
to you, when I speak of the king, with relation to his bodily health.
Figure to yourself that immortal man, who stood in our public places,
represented with trophies, armour, and terrors, on his pedestal:
consider, the Invincible, the Great, the Good, the Pious, the Mighty,
which were the usual epithets we gave him, both in our language and
thoughts. I say, consider him whom you knew the most glorious and great
of monarchs; and now think you see the same man an unhappy Lazar, in the
lowest circumstances of human nature itself, without regard to the state
from whence he is fallen. I write from his bedside: he is at present in
a slumber. I have many, many things to add; but my tears flow too fast,
and my sorrow is too big for utterance.
"I am, etc."
There is such a veneration due from all men to the persons of princes,
that it were a sort of dishonesty to represent further the condition
which the king is in; but it is certain, that soon after the receipt of
these advices, Monsieur Torcy waited upon his Grace the Duke of
Marlborough and the Lord Townshend, and in that conference gave up many
points, which he had before said were such, as he must return to France
before he could answer.
[Footnote 232: See No. 13.]
[Footnote 233: Mrs. Centlivre. See No. 15.]
[Footnote 234: Wilks took the part of Sir Harry Wildair in Farquhar's
"The Constant Couple; or, A Trip to the Jubilee," 1699.]
[Footnote 235: Horatio Walpole, Secretary to the Embassy at the Hague,
and brother of Sir Robert Walpole.]
[Footnote 236: This letter is a pure invention.]
No. 20. [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, May 24_, to _Thursday, May 26_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, May 24.
It is not to be imagined how far prepossession will run away with
people's understandings, in cases wherein they are under present
uneasiness. The following narration is a sufficient testimony of the
truth of this observation.
I had the honour the other day of a visit from a gentlewoman (a stranger
to me) who seemed to be about thirty. Her complexion is brown; but the
air of her face has an agreeableness, which surpasses the beauties of
the fairest women. There appeared in her look and mien a sprightly
health; and her eyes had too much vivacity to become the language of
complaint, which she began to enter into. She seemed sensible of it; and
therefore, with downcast looks, said she, "Mr. Bickerstaff, you see
before you the unhappiest of women; and therefore, as you are esteemed
by all the world both a great civilian, as well as an astrologer, I must
desire your advice and assistance, in putting me in a method of
obtaining a divorce from a marriage, which I know the law will pronounce
void." "Madam," said I, "your grievance is of such a nature, that you
must be very ingenuous in representing the causes of your complaint, or
I cannot give you the satisfaction you desire." "Sir," she answers, "I
believed there would be no need of half your skill in the art of
divination, to guess why a woman would part from her husband." "It is
true," said I; "but suspicions, or guesses at what you mean, nay
certainty of it, except you plainly speak it, are no foundation for a
formal suit." She clapped her fan before her face; "My husband," said
she, "is no more a husband" (here she burst into tears) "than one of the
Italian singers."
"Madam," said I, "the affliction you complain of, is to be redressed by
law; but at the same time, consider what mortifications you are to go
through in bringing it into open court; how you will be able to bear the
impertinent whispers of the people present at the trial, the licentious
reflections of the pleaders, and the interpretations that will in
general be put upon your conduct by all the world: 'How little,' will
they say, 'could that lady command her passions.' Besides, consider,
that curbing our desires is the greatest glory we can arrive at in this
world, and will be most rewarded in the next." She answered, like a
prudent matron, "Sir, if you please to remember the office of matrimony,
the first cause of its institution is that of having posterity:
therefore, as to the curbing desires, I am willing to undergo any
abstinence from food as you please to enjoin me; but I cannot, with any
quiet of mind, live in the neglect of a necessary duty, and an express
commandment, Increase and multiply." Observing she was learned, and
knew so well the duties of life, I turned my arguments rather to dehort
her from this public procedure by examples, than precepts. "Do but
consider, madam, what crowds of beauteous women live in nunneries,
secluded for ever from the sight and conversation of men, with all the
alacrity of spirit imaginable; they spend their time in heavenly
raptures, in constant and frequent devotions, and at proper hours in
agreeable conversations." "Sir," said she hastily, "tell not me of
Papists, or any of their idolatries." "Well then, madam, consider how
many fine ladies live innocently in the eye of the world, and this gay
town, in the midst of temptation: there's the witty Mrs. W---- is a
virgin of 44, Mrs. T----s is 39, Mrs. L----ce, 33; yet you see, they
laugh and are gay, at the park, at the playhouse, at balls, and at
visits; and so much at ease, that all this seems hardly a self-denial."
"Mr. Bickerstaff," said she, with some emotion, "you are an excellent
casuist; but the last word destroyed your whole argument; if it is not
self-denial, it is no virtue. I presented you with a half-guinea, in
hopes not only to have my conscience eased, but my fortune told. Yet--"
"Well, madam," said I, "pray of what age is your husband?" "He is,"
replied my injured client, "fifty, and I have been his wife fifteen
years." "How happened it, you never communicated your distress in all
this time to your friends and relations?" She answered, "He has been
thus but a fortnight." I am the most serious man in the world to look
at, and yet could not forbear laughing out. "Why, madam, in case of
infirmity, which proceeds only from age, the law gives no remedy."
"Sir," said she, "I find you have no more learning than Dr. Case;[237]
and I am told of a young man, not five and twenty, just come from
Oxford, to whom I will communicate this whole matter, and doubt not but
he will appear to have seven times more useful and satisfactory
knowledge than you and all your boasted family." Thus I have entirely
lost my client: but if this tedious narrative preserves Pastorella from
the intended marriage with one twenty years her senior--To save a fine
lady, I am contented to have my learning decried, and my predictions
bound up with Poor Robin's Almanacks.
Will's Coffee-house, May 25.
This evening was acted, "The Recruiting Officer,"[238] in which Mr.
Estcourt's[239] proper sense and observation is what supports the play.
There is not, in my humble opinion, the humour hit in Sergeant Kite; but
it is admirably supplied by his action. If I have skill to judge, that
man is an excellent actor; but the crowd of the audience are fitter for
representations at Mayfair, than a theatre royal. Yet that fair is now
broke,[240] as well as the theatre is breaking: but it is allowed still
to sell animals there. Therefore, if any lady or gentleman have occasion
for a tame elephant, let them inquire of Mr. Pinkethman, who has one to
dispose of at a reasonable rate.[241] The downfall of Mayfair has quite
sunk the price of this noble creature, as well as of many other
curiosities of nature. A tiger will sell almost as cheap as an ox; and I
am credibly informed, a man may purchase a cat with three legs, for very
near the value of one with four. I hear likewise, that there is a great
desolation among the gentlemen and ladies who were the ornaments of the
town, and used to shine in plumes and diadems; the heroes being most of
them pressed, and the queens beating hemp. Mrs. Sarabrand, so famous for
her ingenious puppet-show, has set up a shop in the Exchange,[242] where
she sells her little troop under the term of jointed babies.[243] I
could not but be solicitous to know of her, how she had disposed of that
rake-hell Punch, whose lewd life and conversation had given so much
scandal, and did not a little contribute to the ruin of the fair. She
told me, with a sigh, that despairing of ever reclaiming him, she would
not offer to place him in a civil family, but got him in a post upon a
stall in Wapping, where he may be seen from sun-rising to sun-setting,
with a glass in one hand, and a pipe in the other, as sentry to a
brandy-shop. The great revolutions of this nature bring to my mind the
distresses of the unfortunate Camilla[244], who has had the ill-luck to
break before her voice, and to disappear at a time when her beauty was
in the height of its bloom. This lady entered so thoroughly into the
great characters she acted, that when she had finished her part, she
could not think of retrenching her equipage, but would appear in her own
lodgings with the same magnificence that she did upon the stage. This
greatness of soul has reduced that unhappy princess to an involuntary
retirement, where she now passes her time among the woods and forests,
thinking on the crowns and sceptres she has lost, and often humming over
in her solitude,
_"I was born of royal race,
Yet must wander in disgrace," &c._
But for fear of being overheard, and her quality known, she usually
sings it in Italian:
_"Naqui al regno, naqui al trono
E pur sono
Inventurata Pastorella--"_
Since I have touched upon this subject, I shall communicate to my reader
part of a letter I have received from an ingenious friend at Amsterdam,
where there is a very noble theatre; though the manner of furnishing it
with actors is something peculiar to that place, and gives us occasion
to admire both the politeness and frugality of the people.
My friends have kept me here a week longer than ordinary to see one of
their plays, which was performed last night with great applause. The
actors are all of them tradesmen, who, after their day's work is over,
earn about a guilder a night by personating kings and generals. The hero
of the tragedy I saw, was a journeyman tailor, and his first minister of
state a coffee-man. The empress made me think of Parthenope[245] in "The
Rehearsal"; for her mother keeps an ale-house in the suburbs of
Amsterdam. When the tragedy was over, they entertained us with a short
farce, in which the cobbler did his part to a miracle; but upon inquiry,
I found he had really been working at his own trade, and representing on
the stage what he acted every day in his shop. The profits of the
theatre maintain a hospital: for as here they do not think the
profession of an actor the only trade that a man ought to exercise, so
they will not allow anybody to grow rich on a profession that in their
opinion so little conduces to the good of the commonwealth. If I am not
mistaken, your playhouses in England have done the same thing; for,
unless I am misinformed, the hospital at Dulwich was erected and endowed
by Mr. Alleyn,[246] a player: and it is also said, a famous
she-tragedian[247] has settled her estate, after her death, for the
maintenance of decayed wits, who are to be taken in as soon as they grow
dull, at whatever time of their life that shall happen.
St. James's Coffee-house, May 25.
Letters from the Hague of the 31st instant, N.S., say, that the articles
preliminary to a general peace were settled, communicated to the
States-General and all the foreign Ministers residing there, and
transmitted to their respective masters on the 28th. Monsieur Torcy
immediately returned to the Court of France, from whence he is expected
again on the 4th of the next month, with those articles ratified by that
Court. The Hague is agreed upon for the place of treaty, and the 15th of
the next month the day on which it is to commence. The terms on which
this negotiation is founded, are not yet declared by public authority;
but what is most generally received, is as follows:
Her Majesty's right and title, and the Protestant succession to those
dominions, is forthwith to be acknowledged. King Charles is also to be
owned the lawful sovereign of Spain; and the French king shall not only
recall his troops out of that kingdom, and deliver up to the Allies the
towns of Roses, Fontarabia, and Pampeluna; but in case the Duke of Anjou
shall not retire out of the Spanish dominions, he shall be obliged to
assist the Allies to force him from thence. A cessation of arms is
agreed upon for two months from the first day of the treaty. The port
and fortifications of Dunkirk are to be demolished within four months;
but the town itself left in the hands of the French. The Pretender is to
be obliged to leave France. All Newfoundland is to be restored to the
English. As to the other parts of America, the French are to restore
whatever they may have taken from the English, as the English in like
manner to give up what they may have taken from the French before the
commencement of the treaty. The trade between Great Britain and France
shall be settled upon the same foundation as in the reign of King
Charles II.
The Dutch are to have for their barriers, Nieuport, Berg, St. Vinox,
Furnes, Ipres, Lille, Tournay, Douay, Valenciennes, Condé, Maubeuge,
Mons, Charleroy, Namur, and Luxemburg; all which places shall be
delivered up to the Allies before the end of June. The trade between
Holland and France shall be on the same foot as in 1664. The cities of
Strasburg, Brisac, and Alsatia, shall be restored to the Emperor and
Empire; and the King of France, pursuant to the Treaty of Westphalia in
1648, shall only retain the protection of ten imperial cities, viz.,
Colmar, Schlestat, Haguenau, Munster, Turkeim, Keisemberg, Obrenheim,
Rosheim, Weisemburg, and Landau. Huninguen, Fort Louis, Fort Kiel, and
New Brisac shall be demolished, and all the fortifications from Basle to
Philipsburg. The King of Prussia shall remain in the peaceable
possession of Neufchatel. The affair of Orange, as also the pretensions
of his Prussian Majesty in the French Comté, shall be determined at this
general negotiation of peace. The Duke of Savoy shall have a restitution
made of all that has been taken from him by the French, and remain
master of Exilles, Chamont, Fenestrelles, and the Valley of
Pragelas.[248]
[Footnote 237: John Case, astrologer and friend of John Partridge,
succeeded to Saffold's habitation in Blackfriars gateway, opposite to
Ludgate Church, whence he issued many advertisements. "Their old
physician begged they would not forget him--he gives his advice for
nothing--his cures are private. At Lilly's Head, &c., is the only place
to obtain health, long life, and happiness, by your old friend Dr. Case,
who extirpates the foundation of all diseases":
"At the Golden Ball and Lillie's Head
John Case lives though Saffold's dead."
His handbills were commonly adorned with a variety of emblematic devices
and poetry. See note on Kirleus, in No. 14; and Nos. 216, 240. Case's
most important book was his "Compendium Anatomicum nova methodo
institutum," 1695.]
[Footnote 238: By Farquhar; first acted in 1706.]
[Footnote 239: Richard Estcourt (1668-1712), whom Farquhar specially
selected to act the part of Sergeant Kite, is celebrated by Steele in a
well-known paper in the _Spectator_ (No. 468; see also No. 390).
Estcourt was providore of the Beefsteak Club, and wrote two or three
dramatic pieces. See No. 51.]
[Footnote 240: See No. 4. This article was printed by Tickell among
Addison's works.]
[Footnote 241: In 1704, Pinkethman advertised that at his booth he would
speak an epilogue upon an elephant between nine and ten feet high,
arrived from Guinea, led upon the stage by six blacks.]
[Footnote 242: This may be either the Royal Exchange or the New
Exchange, in the Strand. There were shops for the sale of trinkets and
toys at both places.]
[Footnote 243: "Baby" was a term often applied to dolls.]
[Footnote 244: Mrs. Katherine Tofts sang in English to Nicolini's
Italian, in Buononcini's opera of "Camilla," but this absurdity was
forgiven on account of the charm of their voices. In 1709, in the height
of her beauty, Mrs. Tofts left the stage, owing to her intellect
becoming disordered; but afterwards she married Mr. Joseph Smith, a
gentleman who lived in great state; but his wife's mind again gave way,
and she spent hours walking and singing in a garden attached to a remote
part of the house. She died in 1760. See _Spectator,_ Nos. 18, 22 and
443, where there is a letter purporting to be from Mrs. Tofts, at
Venice.]
[Footnote 245: In act iii. sc. 2 of "The Rehearsal," Prince Volscius
falls in love at first sight with Parthenope, who says:
"My mother, sir, sells ale by the town-walls,
And me her dear Parthenope she calls;"
whereupon Volscius (repeating words from Davenant's "Siege of Rhodes")
replies:
"Can vulgar vestments high-born beauty shroud?
Thou bring'st the morning pictured in a cloud."
]
[Footnote 246: Edward Alleyn, the actor, who died in 1626, aged 61,
founded Dulwich Hospital.]
[Footnote 247: Mrs. Bracegirdle; see No. 1.]
[Footnote 248: "It is said that Monsieur Torcy, when he signed this
instrument broke into this exclamation: 'Would Colbert have signed such
a treaty for France?' On which a Minister present was pleased to say,
'Colbert himself would have been proud to have saved France in these
circumstances on such terms'" (folio).]
No. 21. [STEELE.
From _Thursday, May 26_, to _Saturday, May 28_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, May 26.
A gentleman has writ to me out of the country a very civil letter, and
said things which I suppress with great violence to my vanity. There are
many terms in my narratives which he complains want explaining, and has
therefore desired, that, for the benefit of my country readers, I would
let him know what I mean by a Gentleman, a Pretty Fellow, a Toast, a
Coquette, a Critic, a Wit, and all other appellations in the gayer
world, who are in present possession of these several characters;
together with an account of those who unfortunately pretend to them. I
shall begin with him we usually call a Gentleman, or man of
conversation. It is generally thought, that warmth of imagination, quick
relish of pleasure, and a manner of becoming it, are the most essential
qualities for forming this sort of man. But any one that is much in
company will observe, that the height of good breeding is shown rather
in never giving offence, than in doing obliging things. Thus, he that
never shocks you, though he is seldom entertaining, is more likely to
keep your favour, than he who often entertains, and sometimes displeases
you. The most necessary talent therefore in a man of conversation, which
is what we ordinarily intend by a fine gentleman, is a good judgment. He
that has this in perfection, is master of his companion, without letting
him see it; and has the same advantage over men of any other
qualifications whatsoever, as one that can see would have over a blind
man of ten times his strength. This is what makes Sophronius the
darling of all who converse with him, and the most powerful with his
acquaintance of any man in town. By the light of this faculty, he acts
with great ease and freedom among the men of pleasure, and acquits
himself with skill and despatch among the men of business. This he
performs with so much success, that, with as much discretion in life as
any man ever had, he neither is, nor appears, cunning. But as he does a
good office, if he ever does it, with readiness and alacrity; so he
denies what he does not care to engage in, in a manner that convinces
you, that you ought not to have asked it. His judgment is so good and
unerring, and accompanied with so cheerful a spirit, that his
conversation is a continual feast, at which he helps some, and is helped
by others, in such a manner, that the equality of society is perfectly
kept up, and every man obliges as much as he is obliged: for it is the
greatest and justest skill in a man of superior understanding, to know
how to be on a level with his companions. This sweet disposition runs
through all the actions of Sophronius, and makes his company desired by
women, without being envied by men. Sophronius would be as just as he
is, if there were no law; and would be as discreet as he is, if there
were no such thing as calumny.
In imitation of this agreeable being, is made that animal we call a
Pretty Fellow; who being just able to find out, that what makes
Sophronius acceptable, is a natural behaviour; in order to the same
reputation, makes his own an artificial one. Jack Dimple is his perfect
mimic, whereby he is of course the most unlike him of all men living.
Sophronius just now passed into the inner room directly forward: Jack
comes as fast after as he can for the right and left looking-glass, in
which he had but just approved himself by a nod at each, and marched on.
He will meditate within for half an hour, till he thinks he is not
careless enough in his air, and come back to the mirror to recollect his
forgetfulness.
Will's Coffee-house, May 27.
This night was acted the comedy, called, "The Fox";[249] but I wonder
the modern writers do not use their interest in the house to suppress
such representations. A man that has been at this, will hardly like any
other play during the season: therefore I humbly move, that the
writings, as well as dresses, of the last age, should give way to the
present fashion. We are come into a good method enough (if we were not
interrupted in our mirth by such an apparition as a play of Jonson's) to
be entertained at more ease, both to the spectator and the writer, than
in the days of old. It is no difficulty to get hats, and swords, and
wigs, and shoes, and everything else, from the shops in town, and make a
man show himself by his habit, without more ado, to be a counsellor, a
fop, a courtier, or a citizen, and not be obliged to make those
characters talk in different dialects to be distinguished from each
other. This is certainly the surest and best way of writing: but such a
play as this makes a man for a month after overrun with criticism, and
inquire, what every man on the stage said? What had such a one to do to
meddle with such a thing? How came the other, who was bred after such a
manner, to speak so like a man conversant among a different people?
These questions rob us of all our pleasure; for at this rate, no one
sentence in a play should be spoken by any one character, which could
possibly enter into the head of any other man represented in it; but
every sentiment should be peculiar to him only who utters it. Laborious
Ben's works will bear this sort of inquisition; but if the present
writers were thus examined, and the offences against this rule cut out,
few plays would be long enough for the whole evening's entertainment.
But I don't know how they did in those old times: this same Ben Jonson
has made every one's passion in this play be towards money, and yet not
one of them expresses that desire, or endeavours to obtain it any way
but what is peculiar to him only: one sacrifices his wife, another his
profession, another his posterity from the same motive; but their
characters are kept so skilfully apart, that it seems prodigious their
discourses should rise from the invention of the same author. But the
poets are a nest of hornets, and I'll drive these thoughts no farther,
but must mention some hard treatment I am like to meet with from my
brother-writers. I am credibly informed, that the author of a play,
called, "Love in a Hollow Tree,"[250] has made some remarks upon my late
discourse on "The Naked Truth."[251] I cannot blame a gentleman for
writing against any error; it is for the good of the learned world. But
I would have the thing fairly left between us two, and not under the
protection of patrons. But my intelligence is, that he has dedicated his
treatise to the Honourable Mr. Ed----d H----rd.[252]
From my own Apartment, May 27.
"_To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq._
"York, May 16, 1709.
"SIR,
"Being convinced as the whole world is, how infallible your predictions
are, and having the honour to be your near relation, of the Staffian
family, I was under great concern at one of your predictions relating to
yourself, wherein you foretold your own death would happen on the 17th
instant, unless it were prevented by the assistance of well-disposed
people:[253] I have therefore prevailed on my own modesty to send you a
piece of news, which may serve instead of Goddard's Drops,[254] to keep
you alive for two days, till nature be able to recover itself, or till
you meet with some better help from other hands. Therefore, without
further ceremony, I will go on to relate a singular adventure just
happened in the place where I am writing, wherein it may be highly
useful for the public to be informed.[255]
"Three young ladies of our town were on Saturday last indicted for
witchcraft. The witnesses against the first deposed upon oath before
Justice Bindover, that she kept spirits locked up in velvets, which
sometimes appeared in flames of blue fire; that she used magical herbs,
with some of which she drew in hundreds of men daily to her, who went
out from her presence all inflamed, their mouths parched, and a hot
steam issuing from them, attended with a grievous stench; that many of
the said men were by the force of that herb metamorphosed into swine,
and lay wallowing in the kennels for twenty-four hours, before they
could reassume their shapes or their senses.
"It was proved against the second, that she cut off by night the limbs
from dead bodies that were hanged, and was seen to dig holes in the
ground, to mutter some conjuring words, and bury pieces of the flesh,
after the usual manner of witches.
"The third was accused for a notorious piece of sorcery, long practised
by hags, of moulding up pieces of dough into the shapes of men, women,
and children; then heating them at a gentle fire, which had a
sympathetic power to torment the bowels of those in the neighbourhood.
"This was the sum of what was objected against the three ladies, who
indeed had nothing to say in their own defence, but downright denying
the facts, which is like to avail very little when they come upon their
trials.
"But the parson of our parish, a strange refractory man, will believe
nothing of all this; so that the whole town cries out, 'Shame! that one
of his coat should be such an atheist;' and design to complain of him to
the bishop. He goes about very oddly to solve the matter. He supposes,
that the first of these ladies keeping a brandy and tobacco shop, the
fellows went out smoking, and got drunk towards evening, and made
themselves beasts. He says, the second is a butcher's daughter, and
sometimes brings a quarter of mutton from the slaughter-house overnight
against a market-day, and once buried a bit of beef in the ground, as a
known receipt to cure warts on her hands. The parson affirms, that the
third sells gingerbread, which, to please the children, she is forced to
stamp with images before it is baked; and if it burns their guts, it is
because they eat too much, or do not drink after it.
"These are the answers he gives to solve this wonderful phenomenon; upon
which I shall not animadvert, but leave it among the philosophers: and
so wishing you all success in your undertakings for the amendment of the
world, I remain,
"Dear Cousin,
"Your most affectionate Kinsman,
"and humble Servant,
"EPHRAIM BEDSTAFF."
"P.S.--Those who were condemned to death among the Athenians, were
obliged to take a dose of poison, which made them die upwards, seizing
first upon their feet, making them cold and insensible, and so ascending
gradually, till it reached the vital parts. I believe your death, which
you foretold would happen on the 17th instant, will fall out the same
way, and that your distemper hath already seized on you, and makes
progress daily. The lower part of you, that is, the advertisements,[256]
is dead; and these have risen for these ten days last past, so that they
now take up almost a whole paragraph. Pray, sir, do your endeavour to
drive this distemper as much as possible to the extreme parts, and keep
it there, as wise folks do the gout; for if it once gets into your
stomach, it will soon fly up into your head, and you are a dead man."
St. James's Coffee-house, May 27.
We hear from Leghorn, that Sir Edward Whitaker, with five men-of-war,
four transports, and two fire-ships, was arrived at that port, and
Admiral Byng was suddenly expected. Their squadrons being joined, they
design to sail directly for Final, to transport the reinforcements,
lodged in those parts, to Barcelona.
They write from Milan, that Count Thaun arrived there on the 16th
instant, N.S., and proceeded on his journey to Turin on the 21st, in
order to concert such measures with his royal highness, as shall appear
necessary for the operations of the ensuing campaign.
Advices from Dauphiny say, that the troops of the Duke of Savoy began
already to appear in those valleys, whereof he made himself master the
last year; and that the Duke of Berwick applied himself with all
imaginable diligence to secure the passes of the mountains by ordering
entrenchments to be made towards Briançon, Tourneau, and the Valley of
Queiras. That general has also been at Marseilles and Toulon, to hasten
the transportation of the corn and provisions designed for his army.
Letters from Vienna, bearing date May 23, N.S., import, that the
Cardinal of Saxe-Zeits and the Prince of Lichtenstein were preparing to
set out for Presburg, to assist at the Diet of the States of Hungary,
which is to be assembled at that place on the 25th of this month.
General Heister would shortly appear at the head of his army at
Trentschin, which place is appointed for the general rendezvous of the
Imperial forces in Hungary; from whence he will advance to lay siege to
Neuhausel: in the meantime, reinforcements, with a great train of
artillery, are marching the same way. The King of Denmark arrived on the
both instant at Innspruck, and on the 26th at Dresden, under a triple
discharge of the artillery of that place; but his Majesty refused the
ceremonies of a public entry.
Our letters from the Upper Rhine say, that the Imperial army began to
form itself at Etlingen; where the respective deputies of the Elector
Palatine, the Prince of Baden Durlach, the Bishopric of Spires, &c. were
assembled, and had taken the necessary measures for the provision of
forage, the security of the country against the incursions of the enemy,
and laying a bridge over the Rhine. Several vessels laden with corn are
daily passing before Frankfort for the Lower Rhine.
Letters from Poland inform us, that a detachment of Muscovite cavalry,
under the command of General Infland, had joined the confederate army;
and the infantry commanded by General Goltz, was expected to come up
within few days. These succours will amount to 20,000 men.
Our last advices from the Hague, dated June the 4th, N.S., say, that
they expected a courier from the French Court with the ratification of
the preliminaries that night or the day following. His Grace the Duke of
Marlborough will set out for Brussels on Wednesday or Thursday next, if
the despatches which are expected from Paris don't alter his
resolutions. Letters from Majorca confirm the honourable capitulation of
the castle of Alicante, and also the death of the governor,
Major-General Richards, Colonel Sibourg, and Major Vignolles, who were
all buried in the ruins of that place, by the springing of their great
mine, which did, it seems, more execution than was reported. Monsieur
Torcy passed through Mons in his return, and had there a long conference
with the Elector of Bavaria; after which, that prince spoke publicly of
the treatment he had from France with the utmost indignation.
Any person that shall come publicly abroad in a fantastical habit,
contrary to the present mode and fashion, except Don Diego
Dismallo,[257] or any other out of poverty, shall have his name and
dress inserted in our next.
N.B.--Mr. How'd'call is desired to leave off those buttons.
[Footnote 249: Ben Jonson's "Volpone; or, The Fox."]
[Footnote 250: The comedy, "Love in a Hollow Tree; or, The Lawyer's
Fortune," was published by William, Lord Viscount Grimston (1683-1756),
when he was twenty-two years of age. On the occasion of a contested
election for the borough of St. Albans (1736), it was reprinted--by the
Duchess of Marlborough, it is said--with notes attacking the author, and
adorned with the frontispiece of an elephant dancing on a rope. The
viscount bought up as nearly as he could the whole edition. "This worthy
notleman was a good husband to one of the best of wives, an indulgent
father of a numerous offspring, a kind master to his servants, a
generous friend, and an affable, hospitable neighbour." (Biog. Dram.)]
[Footnote 251: See No. 17]
[Footnote 252: Probably the Hon. Edward Howard, second son of Henry,
fifth Earl of Suffolk. On the death of his nephew without issue in 1722,
he became eighth Earl of Suffolk, but he died unmarried in 1731.]
[Footnote 253: See No. 7.]
[Footnote 254: Dr. Jonathan Goddard, the physician and confidant of
Cromwell, a member of the Royal Society, and medical professor of
Gresham College, discovered in the course of his chemical experiments,
the famous elixir, called here his "drops." Dr. Goddard died of an
apoplexy in 1675. "March 24, 1674-5. About 10 o'clock that night, my
very good friend, Dr. Jonathan Goddard, reader of the physic lectures at
Gresham College, suddenly fell down dead in the street, as he was
entering into a coach. He was a pretty corpulent and tall man, a
bachelor between 45 and 50 years of age; he was melancholy, inclined to
be cynical, and used now and then to complain of giddiness in his head.
He was an excellent mathematician, and some time physician to Oliver the
Protector" (John Coniers, apothecary, in Shoe Lane. MSS. Sloan. 958).
The "drops" were a preparation of spirit of hartshorn, with other
things; they were used in fainting, apoplexies, &c.]
[Footnote 255: With this satire on the vulgar prejudices concerning
witches, may be compared what Addison says in the _Spectator_ (No. 117):
"I believe in general that there is and has been such a thing as
witchcraft; but at the same time can give no credit to any particular
instance of it."]
[Footnote 256: The number of advertisements in the Tatler gradually
increased; but as a compensation the "news" paragraph was dropped.]
[Footnote 257: This name was afterwards applied by the Tory writers to
the Earl of Nottingham; and the author of the 'Examiner' (vol. iii. No
48) says that it was Steele who first used the name for this nobleman,
"and upon no less an important affair, than the oddness of his buttons."
In the 'Guardian (No. 53), however, Steele disavowed any reference to
Lord Nottingham: "I do not remember the mention of Don Diego; nor do I
remember tht ever I thought of Lord Nottingham in any character drawn in
any one paper of Bickerstaff." See also No. 31, below.]
No. 22. [STEELE.
From _Saturday, May 28_, to _Tuesday, May 31_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, May 28.
I came hither this evening to see fashions, and who should I first
encounter but my old friend Cynthio[258] (encompassed by a crowd of
young fellows) dictating on the passion of love with the gayest air
imaginable. "Well," says he, "as to what I know of the matter, there is
nothing but ogling with skill carries a woman; but indeed it is not
every fool that is capable of this art: you will find twenty can speak
eloquently, fifty can fight manfully, and a thousand that can dress
genteelly at a mistress, where there is one that can gaze skilfully.
This requires an exquisite judgment, to take the language of her eyes to
yours exactly, and not let yours talk too fast for hers; as at a play
between the acts, when Beau Frisk stands upon a bench full in
Lindamira's face, and her dear eyes are searching round to avoid that
flaring open fool; she meets the watchful glance of her true lover, and
sees his heart attentive on her charms, and waiting for a second twinkle
of her eye for its next motion." Here the good company sneered; but he
goes on. "Nor is this attendance a slavery, when a man meets
encouragement, and her eye comes often in his way: for, after an evening
so spent, and the repetition of four or five significant looks at him,
the happy man goes home to his lodging, full of ten thousand pleasing
images: his brain is dilated, and gives him all the ideas and prospects
which it ever lets in to its seat of pleasure. Thus a kind look from
Lindamira revives in his imagination all the beauteous lawns, green
fields, woods, forests, rivers and solitudes, which he had ever before
seen in picture, description, or real life: and all with this addition,
that he now sees them with the eyes of a happy lover, as before only
with those of a common man. You laugh, gentlemen: but consider
yourselves (you common people that were never in love) and compare
yourselves in good humour with yourselves out of humour, and you will
then acknowledge, that all external objects affect you according to the
disposition you are in to receive their impressions, and not as those
objects are in their own nature. How much more shall all that passes
within his view and observation, touch with delight a man who is
prepossessed with successful love, which is an assemblage of soft
affections, gay desires, and hopeful resolutions?" Poor Cynthio went on
at this rate to the crowd about him, without any purpose in his talk,
but to vent a heart overflowing with sense of success. I wondered what
could exalt him from the distress in which he had long appeared, to so
much alacrity. But my familiar has given me the state of his affairs. It
seems then, that lately coming out of the play-house, his mistress, who
knows he is in her livery (as the manner of insolent beauties is),
resolved to keep him still so, and gave him so much wages, as to
complain to him of the crowd she was to pass through. He had his wits
and resolution enough about him to take her hand, and say, he would
attend her to her coach. All the way thither, my good young man
stammered at every word, and stumbled at every step. His mistress,
wonderfully pleased with her triumph, put him to a thousand questions,
to make a man of his natural wit speak with hesitation, and let drop her
fan, to see him recover it awkwardly. This is the whole foundation of
Cynthio's recovery to the sprightly air he appears with at present. I
grew mighty curious to know something more of that lady's affairs, as
being amazed how she could dally with an offer of one of his merit and
fortune. I sent Pacolet to her lodgings; he immediately brought me back
the following letter to her friend and confidante Amanda in the country,
wherein she has opened her heart and all its folds.
"DEAR AMANDA,
The town grows so empty, that you must expect my letter so too, except
you will allow me to talk of myself instead of others: you cannot
imagine what pain it is, after a whole day spent in public, to want
your company, and the ease which friendship allows in being vain to each
other, and speaking all our minds. An account of the slaughter which
these unhappy eyes have made within ten days last past, would make me
appear too great a tyrant to be allowed in a Christian country. I shall
therefore confine myself to my principal conquests, which are the hearts
of Beau Frisk, and Jack Freeland, besides Cynthio, who, you know, wore
my fetters before you went out of town. Shall I tell you my weakness? I
begin to love Frisk: it is the best-humoured impertinent thing in the
world: he is always too in waiting, and will certainly carry me off one
time or other. Freeland's father and mine have been upon treaty without
consulting me; and Cynthio has been eternally watching my eyes, without
approaching me, my friends, my maid, or any one about me: he hopes to
get me, I believe, as they say the rattlesnake does the squirrel, by
staring at me till I drop into his mouth. Freeland demands me for a
jointure which he thinks deserves me; Cynthio thinks nothing high enough
to be my value: Freeland therefore will take it for no obligation to
have me; and Cynthio's idea of me, is what will vanish by knowing me
better. Familiarity will equally turn the veneration of the one, and the
indifference of the other, into contempt. I will stick therefore to my
old maxim, to have that sort of man, who can have no greater views than
what are in my power to give him possession of. The utmost of my dear
Frisk's ambition is, to be thought a man of fashion; and therefore has
been so much in mode, as to resolve upon me, because the whole town
likes me. Thus I choose rather a man who loves me because others do,
than one who approves me on his own judgment. He that judges for himself
in love, will often change his opinion; but he that follows the sense of
others, must be constant, as long as a woman can make advances. The
visits I make, the entertainments I give, and the addresses I receive,
will be all arguments for me with a man of Frisk's second-hand genius;
but would be so many bars to my happiness with any other man. However,
since Frisk can wait, I shall enjoy a summer or two longer, and remain a
single woman, in the sublime pleasure of being followed and admired;
which nothing can equal, except that of being beloved by you.
"I am, &c."
Will's Coffee-house, May 30.
My chief business here this evening was to speak to my friends in behalf
of honest Cave Underhill,[259] who has been a comic for three
generations: my father[260] admired him extremely when he was a boy.
There is certainly nature excellently represented in his manner of
action; in which he ever avoided that general fault in players, of doing
too much. It must be confessed, he has not the merit of some ingenious
persons now on the stage, of adding to his authors; for the actors were
so dull in the last age, that many of them have gone out of the world,
without having ever spoke one word of their own in the theatre. Poor
Cave is so mortified, that he quibbles, and tells you, he pretends only
to act a part fit for a man who has one foot in the grave; viz., a
gravedigger. All admirers of true comedy, it is hoped, will have the
gratitude to be present on the last day of his acting, who, if he does
not happen to please them, will have it even then to say, that it is his
first offence.
But there is a gentleman here, who says he has it from good hands, that
there is actually a subscription made by many persons of wit and
quality, for the encouragement of new comedies. This design will very
much contribute to the improvement and diversion of the town: but as
every man is most concerned for himself, I, who am of a saturnine and
melancholy complexion, cannot but murmur, that there is not an equal
invitation to write tragedies, having by me, in my book of commonplaces,
enough to enable me to finish a very sad one by the 5th of next month. I
have the farewell of a general, with a truncheon in his hand, dying for
love, in six lines. I have the principles of a politician (who does all
the mischief in the play) together with his declaration on the vanity of
ambition in his last moments, expressed in a page and a half. I have all
my oaths ready, and my similes want nothing but application. I won't
pretend to give you an account of the plot, it being the same design
upon which all tragedies have been writ for several years last past; and
from the beginning of the first scene, the frequenters of the house may
know, as well as the author, when the battle is to be fought, the lady
to yield, and the hero to proceed to his wedding and coronation. Besides
these advantages which I have in readiness, I have an eminent tragedian
very much my friend, who shall come in, and go through the whole five
acts, without troubling me for one sentence, whether he is to kill or be
killed, love or be loved, win battles or lose them, or whatever other
tragical performance I shall please to assign him.
From my own Apartment, May 30.
I have this day received a letter subscribed "Fidelia," that gives me an
account of an enchantment under which a young lady suffers, and desires
my help to exorcise her from the power of the sorcerer. Her lover is a
rake of sixty; the lady a virtuous woman of twenty-five: her relations
are to the last degree afflicted, and amazed at this irregular passion:
their sorrow I know not how to remove, but can their astonishment; for
there is no spirit in woman half so prevalent as that of contradiction,
which is the sole cause of her perseverance. Let the whole family go
dressed in a body, and call the bride to-morrow morning to her nuptials,
and I'll undertake, the inconstant will forget her lover in the midst of
all his aches. But if this expedient does not succeed, I must be so just
to the young lady's distinguishing sense, as to applaud her choice. A
fine young woman, at last, is but what is due from fate to an honest
fellow, who has suffered so unmercifully by the sex; and I think we
cannot enough celebrate her heroic virtue, who (like the patriot that
ended a pestilence by plunging himself into a gulf) gives herself up to
gorge that dragon which has devoured so many virgins before her.
A letter directed to "Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.; astrologer and physician
in ordinary to her Majesty's subjects of Great Britain, with respect,"
is come to hand.
[Footnote 258: See Nos. 1, 5, 35, 85.]