For the philosopher’s stone. (Steele was interested in this question.)

Petition for incorporation to carry on a whale fishery.

On paving London Streets. Capital two million pounds.

For trading in human hair.

For the transmutation of quicksilver into malleable fine metal.

For changing lead into gold.

* * * * *

Duelling was very prevalent. Addison and Steele in the _Spectator_

were untiring in the reprobation of it. Steele constantly exposed

the absurdity of the practice and endeavored to bring his readers to

his way of thinking. His comedy, _The Conscious Lover_, contains an

admirable exposure of the abuse of the word honor, which led men to so

fanatic an absurdity. Swift, in his own savage way, remarked that he

could “see no harm in rogues and fools shooting one another.” Addison

summed up nearly all that could be said on the subject in the following

powerful paragraph:

“A Christian and a gentleman are made inconsistent appellations of

the same person. You are not to expect eternal life if you are not to

forgive injuries, and your mortal life is rendered uncomfortable if you

are not ready to commit a murder in resentment of an affront; for good

sense, as well as religion, is so utterly banished in the world that

men glory in their very passions, and pursue trifles with the utmost

vengeance, so little do they know that to forgive is the most arduous

pitch human nature can arrive at. A coward has often fought--a coward

has often conquered, but a coward never forgave.”

Again in No. 99, June 23, 1711, Addison writes:

“The placing the point of honor in this false kind of courage, has

given occasion to the very refuse of mankind, who have neither virtue

nor common sense, to set up for men of honor. An English peer who has

not long been dead, (this was William Cavendish, the first duke of

Devonshire, who died August 18, 1707) used to tell a pleasant story of

a French gentleman that visited him early one morning at Paris, and

after great professions of respect, let him know that he had it in his

power to oblige him; which in short, amounted to this--that he believed

that he could tell his lordship the person’s name who jostled him as he

came out from the opera: but before he would proceed, he begged his

lordship that he would not deny him the honor of making him his second.

The English Lord to avoid being drawn into a very foolish affair, told

him that he was under engagements for his two next duels to a couple

of particular friends; upon which the gentleman immediately withdrew,

hoping his lordship would not take it ill if he meddled no further in

an affair from whence he was to receive no advantage.

“The beating down of this false notion of honor in so vain and lively

a people as those of France, is deservedly looked upon as one of the

most glorious parts of their present king’s reign. It is a pity but

the punishment of these mischievous notions should have in it some

particular circumstance of shame or infamy: that those who are slaves

to them may see, that instead of advancing their reputations, they lead

them to ignominy and dishonor.

“Death is not sufficient to deter men who make it their glory to

despise it; but if every one that fought a duel were to stand in the

pillory, it would quickly lessen the number of these imaginary men of

honor, and put an end to so absurd a practice.

“When honor is to support virtue’s principles, and runs parallel to

the laws of God and our country, it cannot be too much cherished and

encouraged: but when the dictates of honor are contrary to those of

religion and equity, they are the greatest depravations of human

nature, by giving wrong ambitions and ideas of what is good and

laudable; and should therefore be exploded by all governments, and

driven out of the bane and plague of human society.”

* * * * *

The article was penned in consequence of an affair on the 8th of May,

1711, when Sir Cholmely Deering, M.P., for the county of Kent, was

slain in a duel by Mr. Richard Thornhill, also member of the House

of Commons. Three days after, by the efforts of Addison, Sir Peter

King brought the subject under the notice of the Legislature, and

after dwelling at considerable length on the alarming increase of the

practice, obtained leave to bring in a bill for the prevention and

punishment of duelling.

As an Irishman, fighting against duelling, Steele was going contrary

to all the traditions of his countrymen. In Ireland, not only military

men, but men of every profession had to work a way to eminence with

pistol or sword. Each political party had its regular corps of fire

eaters who qualified themselves for the position by spending their

whole time at target practice. They boasted that they could hit upon an

opponent in any part of his body they pleased, and made up their minds

before the encounter began whether they should kill him, disable him,

or disfigure him for life.

We have it on the authority of Sir Jonah Barrington in his “Personal

Sketches of His Own Time” that “no young fellow could finish his

education till he had exchanged shots with some of his acquaintances.

The first questions always asked as to a young man’s respectability

and qualifications, particularly when he proposed for a lady-wife

were--‘What family is he of?’ ‘Did he ever blaze?’”

Everywhere, as you see, there are coarse things, great and gross

sensuality, wild animality, unrestrained joy and not a little bestial

pleasure. Virtue had the semblance of puritanism and the memory of

the days under the rule of the kill-joys was a nightmare. So, men who

wrote the news sheets of the day saw nothing for it but to foster

that brutal bloody impulse that seemed to sway the masses of their

readers. If it was necessary to feed them, then the fare given was raw

flesh, violence, blood. This must be borne in mind in order to fully

appreciate the wonderful change brought about in five short years by

two men of fine tastes and delicate sensibilities. Steele in No. cxxxiv

of the _Tatler_, condemning the cruelty of the age, says he has “often

wondered that we do not lay outside a custom which makes us appear

barbarous to nations much more rude and unpolished than ourselves. Some

French writers have represented this diversion of the common people

much to our disadvantage, and imputed it to natural fierceness and

cruelty of temper, as they do some other entertainments peculiar to

our nation. I mean these elegant diversions and bull baiting and prize

fighting, with the like ingenious recreation of the Bear-garden. I wish

I knew how to answer this reproach that is cast upon us, and excuse the

death of many innocent cocks, bulls, dogs, and bears, as have been set

together by the ears, or died untimely deaths, only to make us sport.”

Bearing that in mind, I call your attention to an advertisement of the

time which I copy from the Harlean MSS. 5931,46. Here it is, word for

word:

At the Bear Garden in Hockley in the Hole, 1710. This is to give

notice to all Gentlemen, Gamesters, and Others, that on this present

Monday is a match to be fought by two dogs, one from Newgate Market

against one from Honey Lane Market, at a Bull, for a Guinea to be

spent. Five Let goes out off Hand, which goes fairest and farthest

in, wins all; likewise a Green Bull to be baited, which was never

baited before, and a Bull to be turned loose with fireworks all over

him; also a Mad Ass to be baited; with variety of Bull Baiting, and

Bear Baiting, and a dog to be drawn up with Fireworks.

One named Mission, a writer of the day, describes a bull fight as

follows:

They tie a rope to the foot of the ox or bull, and fasten the other

end of the cord to an iron ring fix’d to a stake driven into the

ground, so that this cord being 15 feet long, the bull is confined

to a sphere of about 30 foot diameter. Several butchers or other

gentlemen, that are desirous to exercise their dogs, stand round

about, each holding his own by the ears; and, when the sport begins,

they let loose one of the dogs; the dog runs at the bull. The bull

immovable, looks down upon the dog with an eye of scorn, and only

turns a horn to him to hinder him from coming under; the dog is not

daunted at this, he turns round him, and tries to get beneath his

belly, in order to seize him by the muzzle, or the dew lap or the

pendant glands; the bull then puts himself in a Posture of Defense;

he beats the ground with his feet, which he joins together as close

as possible, and his chief aim is not to gore the dog with the

point of his horn, but to slide one of them into the dog’s belly

(who creeps close to the ground to hinder it) and to throw him so

high in the air that he may break his neck in the fall. This often

happens; when the dog thinks he is sure of fixing his teeth, a turn

of the horn which seems to be done with all the negligence in the

world, gives him a sprawl thirty foot high, and puts him in danger

of a damnable squelch when he comes down. This danger would be

unavoidable, if the dog’s friends were not ready beneath him, some

with their backs to give him a soft reception, and others with long

poles which may offer him slant ways, to the intent that, sliding

down them, he may break the force of his fall. Notwithstanding all

this care a toss generally makes him sing to a very scurvy tune and

draw his phiz into a pitiful grimace; but, unless he is totally

stunned with the fall, he is sure to crawl again towards the bull,

with his old antipathy, come on’t what will. Some times a second

frisk into the air disables him forever from playing his old tricks;

but, some times, too, he fastens on his enemy, and when he has seized

him with his eye teeth, he sticks to him like a leech, and would

sooner die than leave his hold. The bull bellows and bounds, and

kicks about to shake off the dog; by his leaping, the dog seems to

be no matter of weight to him though in all appearances he puts him

to great pain. In the end, either the dog tears out the piece he

has laid hold of, and falls, or else remains fixed to him, with an

obstinacy that would never end, if they did not put him off. To call

him away would be in vain; to give him a hundred blows would be as

much so; you might cut him to pieces joint by joint before he would

let him loose. What is to be done then? While some hold the bull,

others thrust staves into the dog’s mouth and open it by main force.

That is the only way to part them.

* * * * *

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