"Mr. Cave Underhill, the famous comedian in the reigns of Charles II.,
King James II., King William and Queen Mary, and her present Majesty
Queen Anne; but now not able to perform so often as heretofore in the
playhouse, and having had losses to the value of near £2500, is to have
the tragedy of 'Hamlet' acted for his benefit, on Friday, the 3rd of
June next, at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, in which he is to perform
his original part, the Grave-maker. Tickets may be had at the Mitre
Tavern in Fleet Street." Colley Cibber says that Underhill was
particularly admired in the character of the Grave-digger; and he adds:
"Underhill was a correct and natural comedian; his particular excellence
was in characters that may be called still-life; I mean the stiff, the
heavy, and the stupid; to these he gave the exactest and most expressive
colours, and in some of them looked as if it were not in the power of
human passions to alter a feature of him. A countenance of wood could
not be more fixed than his, when the blockhead of a character required
it; his face was full and long; from his crown to the end of his nose
was the shorter half of it, so that the disproportion of his lower
features, when soberly composed, threw him into the most lumpish, moping
mortal, that ever made beholders merry; not but, at other times, he
could be wakened into spirit equally ridiculous." Genest says that
Underhill acted again as the Grave-digger on Feb. 23, 1710, at Drury
Lane.]
[Footnote 260: "Grandfather" (folio).]
No. 23. [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, May 31_, to _Thursday, June 2_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, May 31.
The generality of mankind are so very fond of this world, and of staying
in it, that a man cannot have eminent skill in any one art, but they
will, in spite of his teeth, make him a physician also, that being the
science the worldlings have most need of. I pretended, when I first set
up, to astrology only; but I am told, I have deep skill also in
medicine. I am applied to now by a gentleman for my advice in behalf of
his wife, who, upon the least matrimonial difficulty, is excessively
troubled with fits, and can bear no manner of passion without falling
into immediate convulsions. I must confess, it is a case I have known
before, and remember the party was recovered by certain words pronounced
in the midst of the fit by the learned doctor who performed the cure.
These ails have usually their beginning from the affections of the mind:
therefore you must have patience to let me give you an instance, whereby
you may discern the cause of the distemper, and then proceed in the cure
as follows:
A fine town lady was married to a gentleman of ancient descent in one of
the counties of Great Britain, who had good humour to a weakness, and
was that sort of person, of whom it is usually said, he is no man's
enemy but his own: one who had too much tenderness of soul to have any
authority with his wife; and she too little sense to give him authority
for that reason. His kind wife observed this temper in him, and made
proper use of it. But knowing it was below a gentlewoman to wrangle, she
resolved upon an expedient to save decorum, and wear her dear to her
point at the same time. She therefore took upon her to govern him, by
falling into fits whenever she was repulsed in a request, or
contradicted in a discourse. It was a fish-day, when in the midst of her
husband's good humour at table, she bethought herself to try her
project. She made signs that she had swallowed a bone. The man grew pale
as ashes, and ran to her assistance, calling for drink. "No, my dear,"
said she, recovering, "it is down; don't be frightened." This accident
betrayed his softness enough. The next day she complained, a lady's
chariot, whose husband had not half his estate, had a crane-neck, and
hung with twice the air that hers did. He answered, "Madam, you know my
income; you know I have lost two coach-horses this spring."--Down she
fell.--"Hartshorn! Betty, Susan, Alice, throw water in her face." With
much care and pains she was at last brought to herself, and the vehicle
in which she visited was amended in the nicest manner, to prevent
relapses; but they frequently happened during that husband's whole life,
which he had the good fortune to end in few years after. The
disconsolate soon pitched upon a very agreeable successor, whom she very
prudently designed to govern by the same method. This man knew her
little arts, and resolved to break through all tenderness, and be
absolute master, as soon as occasion offered. One day it happened, that
a discourse arose about furniture: he was very glad of the occasion, and
fell into an invective against china,[261] protesting, he would never
let five pounds more of his money be laid out that way as long as he
breathed. She immediately fainted--he starts up as amazed, and calls for
help--the maids ran to the closet--he chafes her face, bends her
forwards, and beats the palms of her hands: her convulsions increase,
and down she tumbles on the floor, where she lies quite dead, in spite
of what the whole family, from the nursery to the kitchen, could do for
her relief.
While every servant was thus helping or lamenting their mistress, he,
fixing his cheek to hers, seemed to be following her in a trance of
sorrow; but secretly whispers her, "My dear, this will never do: what is
within my power and fortune, you may always command, but none of your
artifices: you are quite in other hands than those you passed these
pretty passions upon." This made her almost in the condition she
pretended; her convulsions now came thicker, nor was she to be held
down. The kind man doubles his care, helps the servants to throw water
in her face by full quarts; and when the sinking part of the fit came
again, "Well, my dear," said he, "I applaud your action; but I must take
my leave of you till you are more sincere with me. Farewell for ever:
you shall always know where to hear of me, and want for nothing." With
that, he ordered the maids to keep plying her with hartshorn, while he
went for a physician: he was scarce at the stairhead when she followed;
and pulling him into a closet, thanked him for her cure; which was so
absolute, that she gave me this relation herself, to be communicated for
the benefit of all the voluntary invalids of her sex.
From my own Apartment, May 31.
The public is not so little my concern, though I am but a student, as
that I should not interest myself in the present great things in
agitation. I am still of opinion, the French king will sign the
preliminaries. With that view, I have sent him by my familiar the
following epistle, and admonished him, on pain of what I shall say of
him to future generations, to act with sincerity on this occasion.
#"London, May 31.#
#"Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., of Great Britain, to Lewis XIV. of France.#
"The surprising news which arrived this day, of your Majesty's having
refused to sign the treaty your Ministers have in a manner sued for, is
what gives ground to this application to your Majesty, from one whose
name, perhaps, is too obscure to have ever reached your territories; but
one who, with all the European world, is affected with your
determinations. Therefore, as it is mine and the common cause of
mankind, I presume to expostulate with you on this occasion. It will, I
doubt not, appear to the vulgar extravagant, that the actions of a
mighty prince should be balanced by the censure of a private man, whose
approbation or dislike are equally contemptible in their eyes, when they
regard the thrones of sovereigns. But your Majesty has shown, through
the whole course of your reign, too great a value for liberal arts to be
insensible, that true fame lies only in the hands of learned men, by
whom it is to be transmitted to futurity, with marks of honour or
reproach to the end of time. The date of human life is too short to
recompense the cares which attend the most private condition: therefore
it is, that our souls are made as it were too big for it, and extend
themselves in the prospect of a longer existence, in a good fame and
memory of worthy actions after our decease. The whole race of men have
this passion in some degree implanted in their bosoms, which is the
strongest and noblest incitation to honest attempts: but the base use of
the arts of peace, eloquence, poetry, and all the parts of learning,
have been possessed by souls so unworthy those faculties, that the names
and appellations of things have been confounded by the labours and
writings of prostituted men, who have stamped a reputation upon such
actions as are in themselves the objects of contempt and disgrace. This
is that which has misled your Majesty in the conduct of your reign, and
made that life, which might have been the most imitable, the most to be
avoided. To this it is, that the great and excellent qualities of which
your Majesty is master, are lost in their application; and your Majesty
has been carrying on for many years the most cruel tyranny, with all the
noble methods which are used to support a just reign. Thus it is, that
it avails nothing that you are a bountiful master; that you are so
generous as to reward even the unsuccessful with honour and riches; that
no laudable action passes unrewarded in your kingdoms; that you have
searched all nations for obscure merit; in a word, that you are in your
private character endowed with every princely quality, when all this is
subjected to unjust and ill-taught ambition, which to the injury of the
world, is gilded by those endowments. However, if your Majesty will
condescend to look into your own soul, and consider all its faculties
and weaknesses with impartiality; if you will but be convinced, that
life is supported in you by the ordinary methods of food, rest, and
sleep; you would think it impossible that you could ever be so much
imposed on, as to have been wrought into a belief, that so many
thousands of the same make with yourself, were formed by Providence for
no other end, but by the hazard of their very being to extend the
conquests and glory of an individual of their own species. A very little
reflection will convince your Majesty, that such cannot be the intent of
the Creator; and if not, what horror must it give your Majesty to think
of the vast devastations your ambition has made among your fellow
creatures? While the warmth of youth, the flattery of crowds, and a
continual series of success and triumph, indulged your Majesty in this
allusion of mind, it was less to be wondered at, that you proceeded in
this mistaken pursuit of grandeur; but when age, disappointments, public
calamities, personal distempers, and the reverse of all that makes men
forget their true being, are fallen upon you: heavens! is it possible
you can live without remorse? Can the wretched man be a tyrant? Can
grief study torments? Can sorrow be cruel?--
"Your Majesty will observe, I do not bring against you a railing
accusation; but as you are a strict professor of religion, I beseech
your Majesty to stop the effusion of blood, by receiving the opportunity
which presents itself, for the preservation of your distressed people.
Be no longer so infatuated, as to hope for renown from murder and
violence: but consider, that the great day will come, in which this
world and all its glory shall change in a moment: when nature shall
sicken, and the earth and sea give up the bodies committed to them, to
appear before the last tribunal. Will it then, O king! be an answer for
the lives of millions who have fallen by the sword, 'They perished for
my glory'? That day will come on, and one like it is immediately
approaching: injured nations advance towards thy habitation: vengeance
has begun its march, which is to be diverted only by the penitence of
the oppressor. Awake, O monarch, from thy lethargy! Disdain the abuses
thou hast received: pull down the statue which calls thee immortal: be
truly great: tear thy purple, and put on sackcloth.
"I am,
"Thy generous Enemy,
"ISAAC BICKERSTAFF."
St. James's Coffee-house, June 1.
Advices from Brussels of the 6th instant, N.S., say, his Highness Prince
Eugene had received a letter from Monsieur Torcy, wherein that Minister,
after many expressions of great respect, acquaints him, that his master
had absolutely refused to sign the preliminaries to the treaty which he
had, in his Majesty's behalf, consented to at the Hague. Upon the
receipt of this intelligence, the face of things at that place were
immediately altered, and the necessary orders were transmitted to the
troops (which lay most remote from thence) to move towards the place of
rendezvous with all expedition. The enemy seem also to prepare for the
field, and have at present drawn together twenty-five thousand men in
the plains of Lenz. Marshal Villars is at the head of those troops; and
has given the generals under his command all possible assurances, that
he will turn the fate of the war to the advantage of his master.
They write from the Hague of the 7th, that Monsieur Rouillé had received
orders from the Court of France, to signify to the States-General and
the Ministers of the High Allies, that the king could not consent to the
preliminaries of a treaty of peace, as it was offered to him by Monsieur
Torcy. The great difficulty is the business of Spain, on which
particular his Ministers seemed only to say, during the treaty, that it
was not so immediately under their master's direction, as that he could
answer for its being relinquished by the Duke of Anjou: but now he
positively answers, that he cannot comply with what his Minister has
promised in his behalf, even in such points as are wholly in himself to
act in or not. This has had no other effect, than to give the Alliance
fresh arguments for being diffident of engagements entered into by
France. The Pensioner made a report of all which this Minister had
declared to the Deputies of the States-General, and all things turn
towards a vigorous war. The Duke of Marlborough designed to leave the
Hague within two days, in order to put himself at the head of the army,
which is to assemble on the 17th instant between the Scheldt and the
Lis. A fleet of eighty sail, laden with corn from the Baltic, is arrived
in the Texel. The States have sent circular letters to all the
provinces, to notify this change of affairs, and animate their subjects
to new resolutions in defence of their country.
[Footnote 261: Addison ridiculed the prevalent craze for collecting
china in No. 10 of the _Lover_; and Swift wrote to Steele, "What do I
know whether china is dear or not; I once took a fancy of resolving to
go mad for it, but now it is off."]
No. 24. [ADDISON.
From _Thursday, June 2_, to _Saturday, June 4_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, June 2.
In my paper of the 28th of the last month,[262] I mentioned several
characters which want explanation to the generality of readers: among
others, I spoke of a Pretty Fellow; but I have received a kind
admonition in a letter, to take care that I do not omit to show also
what is meant by a Very Pretty Fellow, which is to be allowed as a
character by itself, and a person exalted above the other by a peculiar
sprightliness, as one who, by a distinguishing vigour, outstrips his
companions, and has thereby deserved and obtained a particular
appellation, or nickname of familiarity. Some have this distinction from
the fair sex, who are so generous as to take into their protection those
who are laughed at by the men, and place them for that reason in degrees
of favour. The chief of this sort is Colonel Brunett, who is a man of
fashion, because he will be so; and practises a very jaunty way of
behaviour, because he is too careless to know when he offends, and too
sanguine to be mortified if he did know it. Thus the colonel has met
with a town ready to receive him, and cannot possibly see why he should
not make use of their favour, and set himself in the first degree of
conversation. Therefore he is very successfully loud among the wits,
familiar among the ladies, and dissolute among the rakes. Thus he is
admitted in one place, because he is so in another; and every man treats
Brunett well, not out of his particular esteem for him, but in respect
to the opinion of others. It is to me a solid pleasure to see the world
thus mistaken on the good-natured side; for it is ten to one but the
colonel mounts into a general officer, marries a fine lady, and is
master of a good estate, before they come to explain upon him. What
gives most delight to me in this observation, is, that all this arises
from pure nature, and the colonel can account for his success no more
than those by whom he succeeds. For these causes and considerations, I
pronounce him a true woman's man, and in the first degree, "a very
pretty fellow." The next to a man of this universal genius, is one who
is peculiarly formed for the service of the ladies, and his merit
chiefly is to be of no consequence. I am indeed a little in doubt,
whether he ought not rather to be called a "very happy," than a "very
pretty" fellow? For he is admitted at all hours: all he says or does,
which would offend in another, are passed over in him; and all actions
and speeches which please, doubly please if they come from him: no one
wonders or takes notice when he is wrong; but all admire him when he is
in the right. By the way it is fit to remark, that there are people of
better sense than these, who endeavour at this character; but they are
out of nature; and though, with some industry, they get the characters
of fools, they cannot arrive to be "very," seldom to be merely "pretty
fellows." But where nature has formed a person for this station amongst
men, he is gifted with a peculiar genius for success, and his very
errors and absurdities contribute to it; this felicity attending him to
his life's end. For it being in a manner necessary that he should be of
no consequence, he is as well in old age as youth; and I know a man,
whose son has been some years a pretty fellow, who is himself at this
hour a "very" pretty fellow. One must move tenderly in this place, for
we are now in the ladies' lodgings, and speaking of such as are
supported by their influence and favour; against which there is not,
neither ought there to be, any dispute or observation. But when we come
into more free air, one may talk a little more at large. Give me leave
then to mention three, whom I do not doubt but we shall see make
considerable figures; and these are such as, for their Bacchanalian
performances, must be admitted into this order. They are three brothers
lately landed from Holland: as yet, indeed, they have not made their
public entry, but lodge and converse at Wapping. They have merited
already on the waterside particular titles: the first is called
Hogshead; the second Culverin; and the third Musket. This fraternity is
preparing for our end of the town by their ability in the exercises of
Bacchus, and measure their time and merit by liquid weight, and power
of drinking. Hogshead is a prettier fellow than Culverin by two quarts,
and Culverin than Musket by a full pint. It is to be feared, Hogshead is
so often too full, and Culverin overloaded, that Musket will be the only
lasting "very" pretty fellow of the three.[263] A third sort of this
denomination are such as, by very daring adventures in love, have
purchased to themselves renown and new names; as, Joe Carry, for his
excessive strength and vigour; Tom Drybones, for his generous loss of
youth and health; and Cancrum, for his meritorious rottenness. These
great and leading spirits are proposed to all such of our British youth
as would arrive at perfection in these different kinds; and if their
parts and accomplishments were well imitated, it is not doubted but that
our nation would soon excel all others in wit and arts, as they already
do in arms.
N.B.--The gentleman who stole Betty Pepin,[264] may own it, for he is
allowed to be a "very" pretty fellow.
#But we must proceed to the explanation of other terms in our writings.#
To know what a Toast is in the country, gives as much perplexity as she
herself does in town: and, indeed, the learned differ very much upon the
original of this word, and the acceptation of it among the moderns.
However, it is by all agreed to have a joyous and cheerful import. A
toast in a cold morning, heightened by nutmeg, and sweetened with sugar,
has for many ages been given to our rural dissenters of justice, before
they entered upon causes, and has been of great and politic use to take
off the severity of their sentences; but has indeed been remarkable for
one ill effect, that it inclines those who use it immoderately, to speak
Latin, to the admiration, rather than information, of an audience. This
application of "a toast" makes it very obvious, that the word may,
without a metaphor, be understood as an apt name for a thing which
raises us in the most sovereign degree. But many of the wits of the last
age will assert, that the word, in its present sense, was known among
them in their youth, and had its rise from an accident at the town of
Bath, in the reign of King Charles II. It happened, that on a public day
a celebrated beauty of those times was in the Cross Bath, and one of the
crowd of her admirers took a glass of the water in which the fair one
stood, and drank her health to the company. There was in the place a gay
fellow, half fuddled, who offered to jump in, and swore, though he liked
not the liquor, he would have the toast. He was opposed in his
resolution; yet this whim gave foundation to the present honour which is
done to the lady we mention in our liquors, who has ever since been
called a "toast." Though this institution had so trivial a beginning, it
is now elevated into a formal order; and that happy virgin who is
received and drank to at their meetings, has no more to do in this life,
but to judge and accept of the first good offer. The manner of her
inauguration is much like that of the choice of a Doge in Venice: it is
performed by balloting; and when she is so chosen, she reigns
indisputably for that ensuing year; but must be elected anew to prolong
her empire a moment beyond it. When she is regularly chosen, her name is
written with a diamond on a drinking-glass.[265] The hieroglyphic of the
diamond is to show her, that her value is imaginary; and that of the
glass to acquaint her, that her condition is frail, and depends on the
hand which holds her. This wise design admonishes her, neither to
overrate nor depreciate her charms; as well considering and applying,
that it is perfectly according to the humour and taste of the company,
whether the toast is eaten, or left as an offal.
The foremost of the whole rank of toasts, and the most undisputed in
their present empire, are Mrs. Gatty and Mrs. Frontlet: the first, an
agreeable; the second, an awful beauty. These ladies are perfect
friends, out of a knowledge that their perfections are too different to
stand in competition. He that likes Gatty can have no relish for so
solemn a creature as Frontlet; and an admirer of Frontlet will call
Gatty a maypole-girl. Gatty for ever smiles upon you; and Frontlet
disdains to see you smile. Gatty's love is a shining quick flame;
Frontlet's a slow wasting fire. Gatty likes the man that diverts her;
Frontlet him who adores her. Gatty always improves the soil in which she
travels; Frontlet lays waste the country. Gatty does not only smile, but
laughs at her lover; Frontlet not only looks serious, but frowns at him.
All the men of wit (and coxcombs their followers) are professed servants
of Gatty: the politicians and pretenders give solemn worship to
Frontlet. Their reign will be best judged of by its duration. Frontlet
will never be chosen more; and Gatty is a toast for life.
St. James's Coffee-house, June 3.
Letters from Hamburg of the 7th instant, N.S., inform us, that no art or
cost is omitted to make the stay of his Danish Majesty at Dresden
agreeable; but there are various speculations upon the interview between
King Augustus and that prince, many putting politic constructions upon
his Danish Majesty's arrival, at a time when his troops are marching out
of Hungary, with orders to pass through Saxony, where it is given out,
that they are to be recruited. It is said also, that several Polish
senators have invited King Augustus to return into Poland. His Majesty
of Sweden, according to the same advices, has passed the Dnieper without
any opposition from the Muscovites, and advances with all possible
expedition towards Voldinia, where he proposes to join King Stanislaus
and General Cressau.
We hear from Berne of the 1st instant, N.S., that there is not a
province in France, from whence the Court is not apprehensive of
receiving accounts of public emotions, occasioned by the want of corn.
The General Diet of the thirteen cantons is assembled at Baden, but have
not yet entered upon business, so that the affair of Tockenburg is yet
at a stand.
Letters from the Hague, dated the 11th instant, N.S., advise that
Monsieur Rouillé having acquainted the Ministers of the Allies, that his
master had refused to ratify the preliminaries of a treaty adjusted with
Monsieur Torcy, set out for Paris on Sunday morning. The same day the
foreign Ministers met a committee of the States-General, where Monsieur
van Hessen opened the business upon which they were assembled, and in a
very warm discourse laid before them the conduct of France in the late
negotiations, representing the abject manner in which she had laid open
her own distresses, which reduced her to a compliance with the demands
of all the Allies, and the mean manner in receding from those points to
which her Minister had consented. The respective Ministers of each
potentate of the Alliance severally expressed their resentment of the
faithless behaviour of the French, and gave each other mutual assurances
of the constancy and resolution of their principles to proceed with the
utmost vigour against the common enemy. His Grace the Duke of
Marlborough set out from the Hague on the 9th, in the afternoon, and lay
that night at Rotterdam, from whence at four the next morning he
proceeded towards Antwerp, with design to reach Ghent as on this day.
All the troops in the Low Countries are in motion towards the general
rendezvous between the Scheldt and Lis, and the whole army will be
formed on the 12th instant; and it is said that on the 14th they will
advance towards the enemy's country. In the meantime the Marshal de
Villars has assembled the French army between Lens, la Bassée, and
Douay.
Yesterday morning Sir John Norris[266] with the squadron under his
command, sailed from the Downs for Holland.
From my own Apartment, June 3.
I have the honour of the following letter from a gentleman whom I
receive into my family, and order the heralds at arms to enroll him
accordingly.
"MR. BICKERSTAFF,
"Though you have excluded me the honour of your family, yet I have
ventured to correspond with the same great persons as yourself, and have
wrote this post to the King of France; though I'm in a manner unknown
in his country, and have not been seen there these many months.
#"'To Lewis le Grand.#
"'Though in your country I'm unknown,
Yet, sir, I must advise you;
Of late so poor and mean you're grown,
That all the world despise you.
Here vermin eat your majesty,
There meagre subjects stand unfed;
What surer signs of poverty,
Than many lice, and little bread?
Then, sir, the present minute choose,
Our armies are advanced;
Those terms you at the Hague refuse,
At Paris won't be granted.
Consider this, and Dunkirk raze,
And Anna's title own;
Send one Pretender out to graze,
And call the other home.'
"Your humble Servant,
"BREAD, THE STAFF OF LIFE."
[Footnote 262: No. 21.]
[Footnote 263: It would seem from the passage in the _Examiner_ (vol.
iii. No. 48), that three men of distinction at that time, probably
noblemen, were supposed to be denoted under the names of Hogshead,
Culverin, and Musket, from Wapping; or, as they are named by the
_Examiner_, "Tun, Gun, and Pistol, from Wapping." They are there
mentioned among others, said to have been, "with at least fifty more,
sufferers of figure under this author's satire, in the days of his
mirth," &c. In the _Guardian_ (No. 53) Steele says, "Tun, Gun, and
Pistol from Wapping, laughed at the representation which was made of
them, and were observed to be more regular in their conduct
afterwards."]
[Footnote 264: The kept mistress of a knight of the shire near
Brentford, who squandered his estate on women, and in contested
elections. He has long since gone into the land of oblivion. See No.
51.--(Nichols.)]
[Footnote 265: Several such verses, inscribed on the glasses of the Kit
Cat Club, are given in Nichols' "Select Collection of Poems," v.
168-178.]
[Footnote 266: Admiral Sir John Norris (died 1749) was sent in June
1709, with a small squadron, to stop the French supply of corn from the
Baltic.]
No. 25. [STEELE.
From _Saturday, June 4_, to _Tuesday, June 7_, 1709.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, June 6.
A letter from a young lady, written in the most passionate terms
(wherein she laments the misfortune of a gentleman, her lover, who was
lately wounded in a duel), has turned my thoughts to that subject, and
inclined me to examine into the causes which precipitate men into so
fatal a folly.[267] And as it has been proposed to treat of subjects of
gallantry in the article from hence, and no one point of nature is more
proper to be considered by the company who frequent this place, than
that of duels, it is worth our consideration to examine into this
chimerical groundless humour, and to lay every other thought aside, till
we have stripped it of all its false pretences to credit and reputation
amongst men. But I must confess, when I consider what I am going about,
and run over in my imagination all the endless crowd of men of honour
who will be offended at such a discourse, I am undertaking, methinks, a
work worthy an invulnerable hero in romance, rather than a private
gentleman with a single rapier; but as I am pretty well acquainted by
great opportunities with the nature of man, and know of a truth, that
all men fight against their will, the danger vanishes, and resolution
rises upon this subject. For this reason I shall talk very freely on a
custom which all men wish exploded, though no man has courage enough to
resist it. But there is one unintelligible word which I fear will
extremely perplex my dissertation, and I confess to you I find very
hard to explain, which is, the term "satisfaction." An honest country
gentleman had the misfortune to fall into company with two or three
modern men of honour, where he happened to be very ill-treated; and one
of the company being conscious of his offence, sends a note to him in
the morning, and tells him, he was ready to give him satisfaction. "This
is fine doing," says the plain fellow: "last night he sent me away
cursedly out of humour, and this morning he fancies it would be a
satisfaction to be run through the body." As the matter at present
stands, it is not to do handsome actions denominates a man of honour; it
is enough if he dares to defend ill ones. Thus you often see a common
sharper in competition with a gentleman of the first rank; though all
mankind is convinced, that a fighting gamester is only a pickpocket with
the courage of a highwayman. One cannot with any patience reflect on the
unaccountable jumble of persons and things in this town and nation,
which occasions very frequently, that a brave man falls by a hand below
that of the common hangman, and yet his executioner escapes the clutches
of the hangman for doing it. I shall therefore hereafter consider, how
the bravest men in other ages and nations have behaved themselves upon
such incidents as we decide by combat; and show, from their practice,
that this resentment neither has its foundation from true reason, nor
solid fame; but is an imposture,[268] made up of cowardice, falsehood,
and want of understanding. For this work, a good history of quarrels
would be very edifying to the public, and I apply myself to the town for
particulars and circumstances within their knowledge, which may serve to
embellish the dissertation with proper cuts. Most of the quarrels I have
ever known, have proceeded from some valiant coxcomb's persisting in
the wrong, to defend some prevailing folly, and preserve himself from
the ingenuity of owning a mistake.[269]
By this means it is called, "giving a man satisfaction," to urge your
offence against him with your sword; which puts me in mind of Peter's
order to the keeper, in the "Tale of a Tub": "If you neglect to do all
this, damn you and your generation for ever; and so we bid you heartily
farewell."[270] If the contradiction in the very terms of one of our
challenges were as well explained, and turned into plain English, would
it not run after this manner?
"SIR,
"Your extraordinary behaviour last night, and the liberty you were
pleased to take with me, makes me this morning give you this, to tell
you, because you are an ill-bred puppy, I will meet you in Hyde Park an
hour hence; and because you want both breeding and humanity, I desire
you would come with a pistol in your hand, on horseback, and endeavour
to shoot me through the head; to teach you more manners. If you fail of
doing me this pleasure, I shall say, you are a rascal on every post in
town: and so, sir, if you will not injure me more, I shall never forgive
what you have done already. Pray sir, do not fail of getting everything
ready, and you will infinitely oblige,
"Sir,
"Your most obedient,
"humble Servant, &c."
From my own Apartment, June 6.
Among the many employments I am necessarily put upon by my friends, that
of giving advice is the most unwelcome to me; and indeed, I am forced to
use a little art in the matter; for some people will ask counsel of you,
when they have already acted what they tell you is still under
deliberation. I had almost lost a very good friend the other day, who
came to know how I liked his design to marry such a lady. I answered,
"By no means; and I must be positive against it, for very solid reasons,
which are not proper to communicate." "Not proper to communicate!" said
he with a grave air, "I will know the bottom of this." I saw him moved,
and knew from thence he was already determined; therefore evaded it by
saying, "To tell you the truth, dear Frank, of all women living, I would
have her myself." "Isaac," said he, "thou art too late, for we have been
both one these two months." I learned this caution by a gentleman's
consulting me formerly about his son. He railed at his damned
extravagance, and told me, in a very little time, he would beggar him by
the exorbitant bills which came from Oxford every quarter. "Make the
rogue bite upon the bridle,"[271] said I, "pay none of his bills, it
will but encourage him to further trespasses." He looked plaguy sour at
me. His son soon after sent up a paper of verses, forsooth, in print, on
the last public occasion; upon which, he is convinced the boy has parts,
and a lad of spirit is not to be too much cramped in his maintenance,
lest he take ill courses. Neither father nor son can ever since endure
the sight of me. These sort of people ask opinions, only out of the
fulness of their heart on the subject of their perplexity, and not from
a desire of information. There is nothing so easy as to find out which
opinion the person in doubt has a mind to; therefore the sure way is to
tell him, that is certainly to be chosen. Then you are to be very clear
and positive; leave no handle for scruple. "Bless me! sir, there is no
room for a question." This rivets you into his heart; for you at once
applaud his wisdom, and gratify his inclination. However, I had too much
bowels to be insincere to a man who came yesterday to know of me, with
which of two eminent men in the City he should place his son? Their
names are Paulo and Avaro.[272] This gave me much debate with myself,
because not only the fortune of the youth, but his virtue also depended
upon this choice. The men are equally wealthy; but they differ in the
use and application of their riches, which you immediately see upon
entering their doors.
The habitation of Paulo has at once the air of a nobleman and a
merchant. You see the servants act with affection to their master, and
satisfaction in themselves: the master meets you with an open
countenance, full of benevolence and integrity: your business is
despatched with that confidence and welcome which always accompanies
honest minds: his table is the image of plenty and generosity, supported
by justice and frugality. After we had dined here, our affair was to
visit Avaro: out comes an awkward fellow with a careful countenance;
"Sir, would you speak with my master? May I crave your name?" After the
first preambles, he leads us into a noble solitude, a great house that
seemed uninhabited; but from the end of the spacious hall moves towards
us Avaro, with a suspicious aspect, as if he believed us thieves; and as
for my part, I approached him as if I knew him a cut-purse. We fell
into discourse of his noble dwelling, and the great estate all the world
knew he had to enjoy in it: and I, to plague him, fell a commending
Paulo's way of living. "Paulo," answered Avaro, "is a very good man; but
we who have smaller estates, must cut our coat according to our cloth."
"Nay," says I, "every man knows his own circumstance best; you are in
the right, if you haven't wherewithal." He looked very sour (for it is,
you must know, the utmost vanity of a mean-spirited rich man to be
contradicted, when he calls himself poor). But I was resolved to vex
him, by consenting to all he said; the main design of which was, that he
would have us find out, he was one of the wealthiest men in London, and
lived like a beggar. We left him, and took a turn on the 'Change. My
friend was ravished with Avaro. "This," said he, "is certainly a sure
man." I contradicted him with much warmth, and summed up their different
characters as well as I could. "This Paulo," said I, "grows wealthy by
being a common good; Avaro, by being a general evil: Paulo has the art,
Avaro the craft of trade. When Paulo gains, all men he deals with are
the better: whenever Avaro profits, another certainly loses. In a word,
Paulo is a citizen, and Avaro a cit." I convinced my friend, and carried
the young gentleman the next day to Paulo, where he will learn the way
both to gain, and enjoy a good fortune. And though I cannot say, I have,
by keeping him from Avaro, saved him from the gallows, I have prevented
his deserving it every day he lives: for with Paulo he will be an honest
man, without being so for fear of the law; as with Avaro, he would have
been a villain within the protection of it.
St. James's Coffee-house, June 6.
We hear from Vienna of the 1st instant, that Baron Imoff, who attended
her Catholic Majesty with the character of Envoy from the Duke of
Wolfembuttel, was returned thither. That Minister brought an account,
that Major-general Stanhope, with the troops which embarked at Naples,
was returned to Barcelona. We hear from Berlin, by advices of the 8th
instant, that his Prussian Majesty had received intelligence from his
Minister at Dresden, that the King of Denmark desired to meet his
Majesty at Magdeburg. The King of Prussia has sent answer, that his
present indisposition will not admit of so great a journey; but has sent
the king a very pressing invitation to come to Berlin or Potsdam. These
advices say, that the Minister of the King of Sweden has produced a
letter from his master to the King of Poland, dated from Batitzau the
30th of March, O.S., wherein he acquaints him, that he has been
successful against the Muscovites in all the occasions which have
happened since his march into their country. Great numbers have revolted
to the Swedes since General Mazeppa went over to that side; and as many
as have done so, have taken solemn oaths to adhere to the interests of
his Swedish Majesty.
Advices from the Hague of the 14th instant, N.S., say, that all things
tended to a vigorous and active campaign; the Allies having strong
resentments against the late behaviour of the Court of France; and the
French using all possible endeavours to animate their men to defend
their country against a victorious and exasperated enemy. Monsieur
Rouillé had passed through Brussels without visiting either the Duke of
Marlborough or Prince Eugene, who were both there at that time. The
States have met, and publicly declared their satisfaction in the
conduct of their deputies during the whole treaty. Letters from France
say, that the Court is resolved to put all to the issue of the ensuing
campaign. In the meantime, they have ordered the preliminary treaty to
be published, with observation upon each article, in order to quiet the
minds of the people, and persuade them, that it has not been in the
power of the king to procure a peace, but to the diminution of his
Majesty's glory, and the hazard of his dominions. His Grace the Duke of
Marlborough and Prince Eugene arrived at Ghent on Wednesday last, where,
at an assembly of all the general officers, it was thought proper, by
reason of the great rains which have lately fallen, to defer forming a
camp, or bringing the troops together; but as soon as the weather would
permit, to march upon the enemy with all expedition.[273]
[Footnote 267: For Steele's other papers on duelling, see Nos. 26, 28,
29, 31, 38, 39.]
[Footnote 268: Something imposed upon us.]
[Footnote 269: "While this barbarous custom of duelling is tolerated, we
shall never be rid of coxcombs, who will defend their understandings by
the sword, and force us to bear nonsense on pain of death."--(Steele,
_Theatre_, No. 26.)]
[Footnote 270: Swift's "Tale of a Tub," sect. 4.]
[Footnote 271: _I.e._, hold him in.]
[Footnote 272: Said to be Bateman and Heathcote, both eminent
citizens--(_Gentleman's Magazine_, lx. 679.)]
[Footnote 273: "Mr. Bickerstaff has received a letter, dated June 6,
with the just exceptions against the pretence of persons therein
mentioned, to the name of Pretty Fellows, which shall be taken notice of
accordingly: as likewise, the letter from Anthony Longtail of
Canterbury, concerning the death of Thomas à Becket" (folio). See Nos.
24, 26.]
No. 26. [STEELE.
From _Tuesday, June 7_, to _Thursday, June 9_, 1709.
* * * * *
From my own Apartment, June 8.
I have read the following letter with delight and approbation, and I
hereby order Mr. Kidney at St. James's, and Sir Thomas at White's[274]
(who are my clerks for enrolling all men in their distant classes,
before they presume to drink tea or chocolate in those places), to take
care, that the persons within the descriptions in the letter be
admitted, and excluded according to my friend's remonstrance.[275]
"_To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.; at Mr. Morphew's near Stationers' Hall._
"_June 6_, 1709.
"SIR,
"Your paper of Saturday[276] has raised up in me a noble emulation, to
be recorded in the foremost rank of worthies therein mentioned; and if
any regard be had to merit or industry, I may hope to succeed in the
promotion, for I have omitted no toil or expense to be a proficient; and
if my friends do not flatter, they assure me, I have not lost my time
since I came to town. To enumerate but a few particulars; there's hardly
a coachman I meet with, but desires to be excused taking me, because he
has had me before. I have compounded two or three rapes; and let out to
hire as many bastards to beggars. I never saw above the first act of a
play: and as to my courage, it is well known, I have more than once had
sufficient witnesses of my drawing my sword both in tavern and
playhouse. Dr. Wall[277] is my particular friend; and if it were any
service to the public to compose the difference between Marten and
Sintilaer[278] the pearl-driller, I don't know a judge of more
experience than myself: for in that I may say with the poet,
"'_Quæ regio in villa nostri non plena laboris?_'[279]
"I omit other less particulars, the necessary consequences of greater
actions. But my reason for troubling you at this present is, to put a
stop, if it may be, to an insinuating, increasing set of people, who
sticking to the letter of your treatise, and not to the spirit of it, do
assume the name of 'pretty fellows'; nay, and even get new names, as you
very well hint. Some of them I have heard calling to one another, as I
have sat at White's and St. James's, by the names of Betty, Nelly, and
so forth. You see them accost each other with effeminate airs: they have
their signs and tokens like freemasons: they rail at women-kind; receive
visits on their beds in gowns, and do a thousand other unintelligible
prettinesses that I cannot tell what to make of. I therefore heartily
desire you would exclude all this sort of animals.
"There is another matter I am foreseeing an ill consequence from, but
may be timely prevented by prudence; which is, that for the last
fortnight, prodigious shoals of volunteers have gone over to bully the
French, upon hearing the peace was just signing; and this is so true,
that I can assure you, all engrossing work about the Temple is risen
above 3_s_. in the pound for want of hands. Now as it is possible some
little alteration of affairs may have broken their measures, and that
they will post back again, I am under the last apprehension, that these
will, at their return, all set up for 'pretty fellows,' and thereby
confound all merit and service, and impose on us some new alteration in
our nightcap-wigs[280] and pockets, unless you can provide a particular
class for them. I cannot apply myself better than to you, and I am sure
I speak the mind of a very great number as deserving as myself."
The pretensions of this correspondent are worthy a particular
distinction: he cannot indeed be admitted as a "pretty," but is, what we
more justly call, a "smart fellow." Never to pay at the playhouse, is an
act of frugality, that lets you into his character. And his expedient in
sending his children a-begging before they can go, are characteristical
instances that he belongs to this class. I never saw the gentleman; but
I know by his letter, he hangs his cane on his button;[281] and by some
lines of it, he should wear red-heeled shoes;[282] which are essential
parts of the habit belonging to the order of "smart fellows."
My familiar is returned with the following letter from the French king:
"Versailles, _June 13_, 1709.
#"_Louis XIV. to Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq._[283]#
"SIR,
"I have your epistle, and must take the liberty to say, that there has
been a time, when there were generous spirits in Great Britain, who
would not have suffered my name to be treated with the familiarity you
think fit to use. I thought liberal men would not be such time-servers,
as to fall upon a man because his friends are not in power. But having
some concern for what you may transmit to posterity concerning me, I am
willing to keep terms with you, and make a request to you, which is,
that you would give my service to the nineteenth century (if ever you or
yours reach to them), and tell them, that I have settled all matters
between them and me by Monsieur Boileau. I should be glad to see you
here."
It is very odd this prince should offer to invite me into his dominions,
or believe I should accept the invitation. No, no, I remember too well
how he served an ingenious gentleman, a friend of mine,[284] whom he
locked up in the Bastille for no reason in the world, but because he was
a wit, and feared he might mention him with justice in some of his
writings. His way is, that all men of sense are preferred, banished, or
imprisoned. He has indeed a sort of justice in him, like that of the
gamesters; if a stander-by sees one at play cheat, he has a right to
come in for snares, for knowing the mysteries of the game. This is a
very wise and just maxim; and if I have not left at Mr. Morphew's,
directed to me, bank bills for £200 on or before this day sevennight, I
shall tell how Tom Cash got his estate. I expect three hundred pounds of
Mr. Soilett, for concealing all the money he has lent to himself, and
his landed friend bound with him, at thirty per cent. at his
scrivener's. Absolute princes make people pay what they please in
deference to their power: I do not know why I should not do the same,
out of fear or respect to my knowledge. I always preserve decorums and
civilities to the fair sex: therefore if a certain lady, who left her
coach at the New Exchange[285] door in the Strand, and whipped down
Durham Yard into a boat with a young gentleman for Fox Hall;[286] I say,
if she will send me word, that I may give the fan which she dropped, and
I found, to my sister Jenny, there shall be no more said of it. I expect
hush-money to be regularly sent for every folly or vice any one commits
in this whole town; and hope I may pretend to deserve it better than a
chamber-maid, or _valet-de-chambre_: they only whisper it to the little
set of their companions; but I can tell it to all men living, or who are
to live. Therefore I desire all my readers to pay their fines, or mend
their lives.
White's Chocolate-house, June 8.
My familiar being come from France, with an answer to my letter to Lewis
of that kingdom, instead of going on in a discourse of what he had seen
in that Court, he put on the immediate concern of a guardian, and fell
to inquiring into my thoughts and adventures since his journey. As short
as his stay had been, I confessed I had had many occasions for his
assistance in my conduct; but communicated to him my thoughts of putting
all my force against the horrid and senseless custom of duels. "If it
were possible," said he, "to laugh at things in themselves so deeply
tragical as the impertinent profusion of human life, I think I could
divert you with a figure I saw just after my death, when the philosopher
threw me, as I told you some days ago, into the pail of water.[287] You
are to know, that when men leave the body, there are receptacles for
them as soon as they depart, according to the manner in which they lived
and died. At the very instant that I was killed, there came away with me
a spirit which had lost its body in a duel. We were both examined. Me,
the whole assembly looked at with kindness and pity, but at the same
time with an air of welcome, and consolation: they pronounced me very
happy, who had died in innocence; and told me, a quite different place
was allotted to me, than that which was appointed for my companion;
there being a great distance from the mansions of fools and innocents:
'though at the same time,' said one of the ghosts, there is a great
affinity between an idiot who has been so for long life, and a child who
departs before maturity. But this gentleman who has arrived with you is
a fool of his own making, is ignorant out of choice, and will fare
accordingly.' The assembly began to flock about him, and one said to
him, 'Sir, I observed you came into the gate of persons murdered, and I
desire to know what brought you to your untimely end?' He said, he had
been a second. Socrates (who may be said to have been murdered by the
commonwealth of Athens) stood by, and began to draw near him, in order,
after his manner, to lead him into a sense of his error by concessions
in his own discourse. 'Sir,' said that divine and amicable spirit, 'what
was the quarrel?' He answered, 'We shall know very suddenly, when the
principal in the business comes, for he was desperately wounded before I
fell.' 'Sir,' said the sage, 'had you an estate?' 'Yes, sir,' the new
guest answered, 'I have left it in a very good condition; I made my will
the night before this occasion.' 'Did you read it before you signed it?'
'Yes sure, sir,' said the newcomer. Socrates replies, could a man that
would not give his estate without reading the instrument, dispose of his
life without asking a question? That illustrious shade turned from him,
and a crowd of impertinent goblins, who had been drolls and parasites in
their lifetime, and were knocked on the head for their sauciness, came
about my fellow-traveller, and made themselves very merry with questions
about the words 'carte' and 'terce' and other terms of fencers. But his
thoughts began to settle into reflection upon the adventure which had
robbed him of his late being; and with a wretched sigh, said he, 'How
terrible are conviction and guilt when they come too late for
penitence!'" Pacolet was going on in this strain, but he recovered from
it, and told me, it was too soon to give my discourse on this subject so
serious a turn; you have chiefly to do with that part of mankind which
must be led into reflection by degrees, and you must treat this custom
with humour and raillery to get an audience, before you come to
pronounce sentence upon it. There is foundation enough for raising such
entertainments from the practice on this occasion. Don't you know, that
often a man is called out of bed to follow implicitly a coxcomb (with
whom he would not keep company on any other occasion) to ruin and death?
Then a good list of such as are qualified by the laws of these
uncourteous men of chivalry to enter into combat (who are often persons
of honour without common honesty): these, I say, ranged and drawn up in
their proper order, would give an aversion to doing anything in common
with such as men laugh at and contemn. But to go through this work, you
must not let your thoughts vary, or make excursions from your theme:
consider at the same time, that the matter has been often treated by the
ablest and greatest writers; yet that must not discourage you; for the
properest person to handle it, is one who has roved into mixed
conversations, and must have opportunities (which I shall give you) of
seeing these sort of men in their pleasures and gratifications; among
which, they pretend to reckon fighting. It was pleasantly enough said of
a bully in France, when duels first began to be punished: "The king has
taken away gaming, and stage-playing, and now fighting too; how does he
expect gentlemen shall divert themselves?"[288]
[Footnote 274: See Nos. 1, 10, 16.]
[Footnote 275: This letter is probably by Anthony Henley; see
advertisement at end of No. 25. At this time Henley was M.P. for
Weymouth, and a friend of the wits belonging to the Whig party. He died
in 1711. See Nos. 11, 193.]
[Footnote 276: No. 21.]
[Footnote 277: Wall and the others named were quack doctors.]
[Footnote 278: Sintelaer, who lived in High Holborn, published in Feb.
1709, "The Scourge of Venus and Mercury. With an appendix in answer to
Mr. John Marten's reflections thereupon" (_Postman_, Feb. 24 to 26,
1709).]
[Footnote 279: "Æneid," i. 460. Steele alters Virgil's "terriss" to
"villa."]
[Footnote 280: A sort of periwig, with a short tie and small round head.
See No. 30, end. In the _Spectator_ (No. 319), Dorinda describes a
humble servant of hers who "appeared to me in one of those wigs that I
think you call a 'night-cap,' which had altered him more effectually
than before. He afterwards played a couple of black riding wigs upon me,
with the same success."]
[Footnote 281: The elaborate canes used by the beaux commonly had a
ribbon to enable them to be hung on the button of the waistcoat. Thus we
find among the advertisements for lost canes, "A cane with a silver head
and a black ribbon in it, the top of it amber, part of the head to turn
round, and in it a perspective glass."]
[Footnote 282: Men of fashion wore very high-heeled shoes, and their red
heels are often satirised by Steele and Addison (cf. _Spectator_, No.
311). In No. 16 of the _Spectator_ Addison said, "It is not my intention
to sink the dignity of this my paper with reflections upon red-heels or
topknots."]
[Footnote 283: See Nos. 19, 23.]
[Footnote 284: Probably Sir John Vanbrugh.]
[Footnote 285: A bazaar on the south side of the Strand, between George
Court and Durham Street, and opposite Bedford Street. There were two
long and double galleries, one above the other, containing shops, with
pretty attendants. The New Exchange was a favourite lounge, and is
frequently mentioned in the Restoration literature; it was pulled down
in 1737. See _Spectator_, Nos. 96, 155, and Steele's "Lying Lover," act
ii. sc. 2, where Young Bookwit says, "My choice was so distracted among
the pretty merchants and their dealers, that I knew not where to run
first." On the other hand, we find complaints that young fops hindered
business by lolling on the counter an hour longer than was necessary,
and annoyed the young women who served them with ingenious ribaldry.]
[Footnote 286: Vauxhall, or Fox-hall, Gardens were formed about 1661, on
the Surrey side of the Thames, and were at first called the New Spring
Gardens, to distinguish them from the Old Spring Gardens at Charing
Cross. At the end of the seventeenth century Vauxhall was a favourite
place for assignations, and Pepys was scandalised at scenes he there
witnessed. The gardens were reopened in 1732, after being closed, it
would seem, for some years, and they continued to be a place of
fashionable resort until the end of the reign of George III.]
[Footnote 287: See No. 15.]
[Footnote 288: "Whereas several gentlemen have desired this paper with a
blank leaf to write business on, and for the convenience of the post;
this is to give notice, that this day, and for the future, it may be had
of Mr. Morphew, near Stationers' Hall" (folio, advertisement).]
No. 27. [STEELE.
From _Thursday, June 9_, to _Saturday, June 11, 1709_.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, June 9.
Pacolet being gone a strolling among the men of the sword, in order to
find out the secret causes of the frequent disputes we meet with, and
furnish me with material for my treatise on duelling; I have room left
to go on in my information to my country readers, whereby they may
understand the bright people whose memoirs I have taken upon me to
write. But in my discourse of the 28th of the last month,[289] I omitted
to mention the most agreeable of all bad characters; and that is, a
Rake.
A Rake is a man always to be pitied; and if he lives, is one day
certainly reclaimed; for his faults proceed not from choice or
inclination, but from strong passions and appetites, which are in youth
too violent for the curb of reason, good sense, good manners, and good
nature: all which he must have by nature and education, before he can be
allowed to be, or have been of this order. He is a poor unwieldy wretch,
that commits faults out of the redundance of his good qualities. His
pity and compassion make him sometimes a bubble to all his fellows, let
them be never so much below him in understanding. His desires run away
with him through the strength and force of a lively imagination, which
hurries him on to unlawful pleasures, before reason has power to come in
to his rescue. Thus, with all the good intentions in the world to
amendment, this creature sins on against heaven, himself, his friends,
and his country, who all call for a better use of his talents. There is
not a being under the sun so miserable as this: he goes on in a pursuit
he himself disapproves, and has no enjoyment but what is followed by
remorse; no relief from remorse, but the repetition of his crime. It is
possible I may talk of this person with too much indulgence; but I must
repeat it, that I think this a character which is the most the object of
pity of any in the world. The man in the pangs of the stone, gout, or
any acute distempers, is not in so deplorable a condition in the eye of
right sense, as he that errs and repents, and repents and errs on. The
fellow with broken limbs justly deserves your alms for his impotent
condition; but he that cannot use his own reason, is in a much worse
state; for you see him in miserable circumstances, with his remedy at
the same time in his own possession, if he would or could use it. This
is the cause, that of all ill characters, the rake has the best quarter
in the world; for when he is himself, and unruffled with intemperance,
you see his natural faculties exert themselves, and attract an eye of
favour towards his infirmities. But if we look round us here, how many
dull rogues are there, that would fain be what this poor man hates
himself for? All the noise towards six in the evening,[290] is caused by
his mimics and imitators. How ought men of sense to be careful of their
actions, if it were merely from the indignation of feeling themselves
ill drawn by such little pretenders? not to say, he that leads, is
guilty of all the actions of his followers: and a rake has imitators
whom you would never expect should prove so. Second-hand vice sure of
all is the most nauseous. There is hardly a folly more absurd, or which
seems less to be accounted for (though it is what we see every day) than
that grave and honest natures give into this way, and at the same time
have good sense, if they thought fit to use it: but the fatality (under
which most men labour) of desiring to be what they are not, makes them
go out of a method, in which they might be received with applause, and
would certainly excel, into one, wherein they will all their life have
the air of strangers to what they aim at. For this reason, I have not
lamented the metamorphosis of any one I know so much as of Nobilis, who
was born with sweetness of temper, just apprehension, and everything
else that might make him a man fit for his order. But instead of the
pursuit of sober studies and applications, in which he would certainly
be capable of making a considerable figure in the noblest assembly of
men in the world; I say, in spite of that good nature, which is his
proper bent, he will say ill-natured things aloud, put such as he was,
and still should be, out of countenance, and drown all the natural good
in him, to receive an artificial ill character, in which he will never
succeed: for Nobilis is no rake. He may guzzle as much wine as he
pleases, talk bawdy if he thinks fit; but he may as well drink
water-gruel, and go twice a day to church, for it will never do. I
pronounce it again, Nobilis is no rake. To be of that order, he must be
vicious against his will, and not so by study or application. All Pretty
Fellows are also excluded to a man, as well as all Inamaratos, or
persons of the epicene gender, who gaze at one another in the presence
of ladies. This class, of which I am giving you an account, is pretended
to also by men of strong abilities in drinking; though they are such
whom the liquor, not the conversation, keeps together. But blockheads
may roar, fight, and stab, and be never the nearer; their labour is also
lost; they want sense: they are no rakes.
As a rake among men is the man who lives in the constant abuse of his
reason, so a coquette among women is one who lives in continual
misapplication of her beauty. The chief of all whom I have the honour to
be acquainted with, is pretty Mrs. Toss: she is ever in practice of
something which disfigures her, and takes from her charms; though all
she does, tends to a contrary effect. She has naturally a very agreeable
voice and utterance, which she has changed for the prettiest lisp
imaginable. She sees what she has a mind to see, at half a mile distance;
but poring with her eyes half shut at every one she passes by, she
believes much more becoming. The Cupid on her fan and she have their eyes
full on each other, all the time in which they are not both in motion.
Whenever her eye is turned from that dear object, you may have a glance,
and your bow, if she is in humour, returned as civilly as you make it;
but that must not be in the presence of a man of greater quality: for
Mrs. Toss is so thoroughly well bred, that the chief person present has
all her regards. And she, who giggles at divine service, and laughs at
her very mother, can compose herself at the approach of a man of a good
estate.
Will's Coffee-house, June 9.
A fine lady showed a gentleman of this company, for an eternal answer to
all his addresses, a paper of verses, with which she is so captivated,
that she professed, the author should be the happy man in spite of all
other pretenders. It is ordinary for love to make men poetical, and it
had that effect on this enamoured man: but he was resolved to try his
vein upon some of her confidantes or retinue, before he ventured upon so
high a theme as herself. To do otherwise than so, would be like making
an heroic poem a man's first attempt. Among the favourites to the fair
one, he found her parrot not to be in the last degree: he saw Poll had
her ear, when his sighs were neglected. To write against him, had been a
fruitless labour; therefore he resolved to flatter him into his
interests, in the following manner:
#"To a Lady on her Parrot.#
_"When nymphs were coy, and love could not prevail,
The gods disguised were seldom known to fail,
Leda was chaste, but yet a feathered Jove
Surprised the fair, and taught her how to love.
There's no celestial but his heaven would quit,
For any form which might to thee admit.
See how the wanton bird, at every glance,
Swells his glad plumes, and feels an amorous trance.
The queen of beauty has forsook the dove,
Henceforth the parrot be the bird of love."_
It is indeed a very just proposition, to give that honour rather to the
parrot than the other volatile. The parrot represents us in the state of
making love: the dove in the possession of the object beloved. But
instead of turning the dove off, I fancy it would be better if the
chaise of Venus had hereafter a parrot added (as we see sometimes a
third horse to a coach) which might intimate, that to be a parrot, is
the only way to succeed; and to be a dove, to preserve your conquests.
If the swain would go on successfully, he must imitate the bird he
writes upon. For he who would be loved by women, must never be silent
before the favour, or open his lips after it.
From my own Apartment, June 10.
I have so many messages from young gentlemen who expect preferment and
distinction, that I am wholly at a loss in what manner to acquit myself.
The writer of the following letter tells me in a postscript, he cannot
go out of town till I have taken some notice of him, and is very urgent
to be somebody, in town before he leaves it, and returns to his commons
at the university. But take it from himself.
#"_To Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq., Monitor-General of Great Britain._#
"Shire Lane, _June 8._
I have been above six months from the university, of age these three
months, and so long in town. I was recommended to one Charles
Bubbleboy[291] near the Temple, who has supplied me with all the
furniture he says a gentleman ought to have. I desired a certificate
thereof from him, which he said would require some time to consider of;
and when I went yesterday morning for it, he tells me, upon due
consideration, I still want some few odd things more, to the value of
threescore or fourscore pounds, to make me complete. I have bespoke
them; and the favour I beg of you is, to know, when I am equipped, in
what part or class of men in this town you will place me. Pray send me
word what I am, and you shall find me,
"Sir,
"Your most humble Servant,
"JEFFRY NICKNACK."
I am very willing to encourage young beginners; but am extremely in the
dark how to dispose of this gentleman. I cannot see either his person or
habit in this letter; but I'll call at Charles', and know the shape of
his snuff-box, by which I can settle his character. Though indeed, to
know his full capacity, I ought to be informed, whether he takes Spanish
or musty.[292]
St. James's Coffee-house, June 10.
Letters from the Low Countries of the 17th instant say, that the Duke of
Marlborough and the Prince of Savoy intended to leave Ghent on that day,
and join the army, which lies between Pont d'Espiere and Courtray, their
headquarters being at Helchin. The same day the Palatine foot was
expected at Brussels. Lieutenant-General Dompre, with a body of eight
thousand men, is posted at Alost, in order to cover Ghent and Brussels.
The Marshal de Villars was still on the plains of Lens; and it is said,
the Duke of Vendôme is appointed to command in conjunction with that
general. Advices from Paris say, Monsieur Voisin is made Secretary of
State, upon Monsieur Chamillard's resignation of that employment. The
want of money in that kingdom is so great, that the Court has thought
fit to command all the plate of private families to be brought into the
Mint. They write from the Hague of the 18th, that the States of Holland
continue their session; and that they have approved the resolution of
the States-General, to publish a second edict to prohibit the sale of
corn to the enemy. Many eminent persons in that assembly have declared,
that they are of opinion, that all commerce whatsoever with France
should be wholly forbidden: which point is under present deliberation;
but it is feared it will meet with powerful opposition.
[Footnote 289: No. 21.]
[Footnote 290: People of fashion dined at about four o'clock in Queen
Anne's time, and by six the men, who had often drunk a good deal of
wine, would be finding their way to the clubs and coffee-houses.]
[Footnote 291: Charles Mather, a toyman in Fleet Street, next door to
Nandoe's Coffee-house, over against Chancery Lane. Swift wrote ("Sid
Hamet's Rod," 1710):
"No hobby horse with gorgeous top,
The dearest in Charles Mather's shop;
Or glittering tinsel of Mayfair
Could with the rod of Sid compare."
See Nos. 113, 142, and _Spectator_, Nos. 328, 503 ("One of Charles
Mather's fine tablets"), and 570 ("The famous Charles Mather was bred up
under him").]
[Footnote 292: Charles Lillie, the perfumer, tells us how snuff came
into use. A great quantity of musty snuff was captured in the Spanish
fleet taken at Vigo in 1702, and snuff with this special musty flavour
became the fashion. In No. 138 of the _Spectator_, Steele humorously
announced that "the exercise of the snuff-box, according to the most
fashionable airs and motions, in opposition to the exercise of the fair,
will be taught with the best plain or perfumed snuff at Charles
Lillie's, perfumer, at the corner of Beaufort Buildings in the Strand."]
No. 28. [STEELE.