December last, Mr. Bettesworth of the city of Dublin, serjeant-at-law,
and member of parliament, openly swore, before many hundreds of people,
that, upon the first opportunity, by the help of ruffians, he would
murder or maim the Dean of St. Patrick's, (Dr. Swift). Upon which
thirty-one of the principal inhabitants of that liberty signed a paper
to this effect: 'That, out of their great love and respect to the Dean,
to whom the whole kingdom hath so many obligations, they would endeavour
to defend the life and limbs of the said Dean against a certain man and
all his ruffians and murderers.' With which paper they, in the name of
themselves and all the inhabitants of the city, attended the Dean on
January 8, who being extremely ill in bed of a giddiness and deafness,
and not able to receive them, immediately dictated a very grateful
answer. The occasion of a certain man's declaration of his villainous
design against the Dean, was a frivolous unproved suspicion that he had
written some lines in verse reflecting upon him."]
[Footnote 4: Kevan Bayl was a cant expression for the mob of this
district of Dublin.]
"The Dean and his merits we every one know,
But this skip of a lawyer, where the de'il did he grow?
How greater his merit at Four Courts or House,
Than the barking of Towzer, or leap of a louse!
Knock him down, &c.
"That he came from the Temple, his morals do show;
But where his deep law is, few mortals yet know:
His rhetoric, bombast, silly jests, are by far
More like to lampooning, than pleading at bar.
Knock him down, &c.
"This pedlar, at speaking and making of laws,
Has met with returns of all sorts but applause;
Has, with noise and odd gestures, been prating some years,
What honester folk never durst for their ears.
Knock him down, &c.
"Of all sizes and sorts, the fanatical crew
Are his brother Protestants, good men and true;
Red hat, and blue bonnet, and turban's the same,
What the de'il is't to him whence the devil they came.
Knock him down, &c.
"Hobbes, Tindal, and Woolston, and Collins, and Nayler,
And Muggleton, Toland, and Bradley the tailor,
Are Christians alike; and it may be averr'd,
He's a Christian as good as the rest of the herd.
Knock him down, &c.
"He only the rights of the clergy debates;
Their rights! their importance! We'll set on new rates
On their tithes at half-nothing, their priesthood at less;
What's next to be voted with ease you may guess.
Knock him down, &c.
"At length his old master, (I need not him name,)
To this damnable speaker had long owed a shame;
When his speech came abroad, he paid him off clean,
By leaving him under the pen of the Dean.
Knock him down, &c.
"He kindled, as if the whole satire had been
The oppression of virtue, not wages of sin:
He began, as he bragg'd, with a rant and a roar;
He bragg'd how he bounced, and he swore how he swore.[5]
Knock him down, &c.
[Footnote 5: See the Dean's letter to the Duke of Dorset, in which he
gives an account of his interview with Bettesworth, about which he
alleges the serjeant had spread abroad five hundred falsehoods. [S.]]
"Though he cringed to his deanship in very low strains,
To others he boasted of knocking out brains,
And slitting of noses, and cropping of ears,
While his own ass's zags were more fit for the shears.
Knock him down, &c.
"On this worrier of deans whene'er we can hit,
We'll shew him the way how to crop and to slit;
We'll teach him some better address to afford
To the dean of all deans, though he wears not a sword.
Knock him down, &c.
"We'll colt him through Kevan, St Patrick's, Donore,
And Smithfield, as rap was ne'er colted before;
We'll oil him with kennel, and powder him with grains,
A modus right fit for insulters of deans.
Knock him down, &c.
"And, when this is over, we'll make him amends,
To the Dean he shall go; they shall kiss and be friends:
But how? Why, the Dean shall to him disclose
A face for to kiss, without eyes, ears, or nose.
Knock him down, &c.
"If you say this is hard on a man that is reckon'd
That sergeant-at-law whom we call Kite the Second,
You mistake; for a slave, who will coax his superiors,
May be proud to be licking a great man's posteriors.
Knock him down, &c.
"What care we how high runs his passion or pride?
Though his soul he despises, he values his hide;
Then fear not his tongue, or his sword, or his knife;
He'll take his revenge on his innocent wife.
Knock him down, down, down, keep him down."
"ON THE ARCHBISHOP OF CASHEL,[1] AND BETTESWORTH.
"Dear Dick, pr'ythee tell by what passion you move?
The world is in doubt whether hatred or love;
And, while at good Cashel you rail with such spite,
They shrewdly suspect it is all but a bite.
You certainly know, though so loudly you vapour,
His spite cannot wound who attempted the Drapier.
Then, pr'ythee, reflect, take a word of advice;
And, as your old wont is, change sides in a trice:
On his virtues hold forth; 'tis the very best way;
And say of the man what all honest men say.
But if, still obdurate, your anger remains,
If still your foul bosom more rancour contains,
Say then more than they, nay, lavishly flatter;
'Tis your gross panegyrics alone can bespatter;
For thine, my dear Dick, give me leave to speak plain,
Like very foul mops, dirty more than they clean."
[Footnote 1: Dr. Theophilus Bolton. [T.S.]]
The letter to the Earl of Dorset, containing Swift's version of the
story is as follows:
"January, 1734.
"MY LORD,
"It has been my great misfortune that since your grace's return to this
kingdom I have not been able to attend you, as my duty and gratitude for
your favours as well as the honour of having been so many years known to
you obliged me to do. I have been pursued by two old disorders, a
giddiness and deafness, which used to leave me in three or four weeks,
but now have continued four months. Thus I am put under a necessity to
write what I would rather have chosen to say in your grace's presence.
"On Monday last week towards evening there came to the deanery one Mr.
Bettesworth; who, being told by the servants that I was gone to a
friend's house,[1] went thither to inquire for me, and was admitted into
the street parlour. I left my company in the back room and went to him.
He began with asking me 'whether I were the author of certain verses
wherein he was reflected on.' The singularity of the man, in his
countenance, manner, action, style, and tone of voice, made me call to
mind that I had once seen him about two or three years ago at Mr.
Ludlow's country-house. But I could not recollect his name; and of what
calling he might be I had never heard. I therefore desired to know who
and what he was; said 'I had heard of some such verses, but knew no
more.' He then signified to me 'that he was a serjeant-at-law and a
member of parliament.' After which he repeated the lines that concerned
him with great emphasis; said 'I was mistaken in one thing, for he
assured me he was no booby, but owned himself to be a coxcomb.' However,
that being a point of controversy wherein I had no concern, I let it
drop. As to the verses, he insisted, 'that by his taste and skill in
poetry he was as sure I wrote them as if he had seen them fall from my
pen.' But I found the chief weight of his argument lay upon two words
that rhymed to his name, which he knew could come from none but me. He
then told me 'that, since I would not own the verses, and that since he
could not get satisfaction by any course of law, he would get it by his
pen, and show the world what a man I was.' When he began to grow
over-warm and eloquent I called in the gentleman of the house from the
room adjoining; and the serjeant, going on with less turbulence, went
away. He had a footman in the hall during all his talk, who was to have
opened the door for one or more fellows, as he has since reported; and
likewise that he had a sharp knife in his pocket, ready to stab or maim
me. But the master and mistress of the house, who knew his character and
could hear every word from the room they were in, had prepared a
sufficient defence in such a case, as they afterward told me. He has
since related to five hundred persons of all ranks about five hundred
falsehoods of this conversation, of my fears and his own brutalities,
against all probability as well as fact; and some of them, as I have
been assured, even in the presence of your grace. His meanings and his
movements were indeed peevish enough, but his words were not. He
threatened me with nothing but his pen, yet owned he had no pretence to
wit. And indeed I am heartily glad for his own sake that he proceeded no
farther, for the least uproar would have called his nearest neighbours
first to my assistance, and next to the manifest danger of his life; and
I would not willingly have even a dog killed upon my account. Ever since
he has amused himself with declaring in all companies, especially before
bishops and lords and members of parliament, his resolutions for
vengeance and the several manners by which he will put it in execution.
[Footnote 1: The Rev. Mr. Worrall's. [T.S.]]
"It is only to the advice of some judicious friends that your grace owes
the trouble of this letter; for though I may be dispirited enough by
sickness and years, yet I have little reason to apprehend any danger
from that man; and those who seem to have most regard for my safety are
no more apprehensive than myself, especially such as best know his
character; for his very enemies and even his ridiculers, who are of the
two by far the greater number, allow him to be a peaceable man in all
things except his words, his rhetorical actions, his looks, and his
hatred to the clergy; which however are all known by abundance of
experience to be perfectly harmless, and particularly as to the clergy.
I do not doubt but, if he will be so good to continue steadfast in his
principles and practices, he may at proper junctures contribute very
much to the honour and interests of that reverend body, as well as
employ and improve the wit of many young gentlemen in the city, the
university, and the rest of the kingdom.
"What I have said to your grace is only meant as a poor endeavour to
preserve myself in your good opinion and in the continuance of your
favour. I am, with the highest respect, etc."
"JONATHAN SWIFT."
APPENDIX IV.
A TRUE AND FAITHFUL NARRATIVE OF WHAT
PASSED IN LONDON, DURING THE GENERAL
CONSTERNATION OF ALL RANKS AND
DEGREES OF MANKIND;
ON TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY, AND
FRIDAY LAST.
NOTE.
WILLIAM WHISTON (1667-1752), born at Norton, Leicestershire, was
educated at Tamworth School and Clare College, Cambridge. He resigned
the living at Lowestoft, presented to him by his patron and friend,
Bishop Moore, of Norwich, on accepting the Professorship of Mathematics,
vacated by Sir Isaac Newton. He was a profound scholar and
mathematician, but obtained a somewhat harassing fame by his propagation
of Arianism. Indeed, his public lectures and sermons, as well as his
publications vindicating his attitude, forced the authorities to deprive
him of his lectureship, and expel him from the university. In 1717
Whiston founded a Society for Promoting Primitive Christianity, and its
meetings were held at his house in Cross Street, Hatton Garden. But the
society lived only for two years. In that curious medley, "Memoirs of
the Life of Mr. William Whiston, by himself," we are told that he had a
model made of the original Tabernacle of Moses from his own plans, and
toured the country giving lectures on the coming of the Messiah, the
restoration of the Jews to their own country, and the rebuilding of the
Temple according to the model. The Millennium he foretold would commence
in 1766.
He wrote a prodigious number of tracts, pamphlets, commentaries, and
biblical expositions in support of his particular view of Christianity;
but the works for which he is now remembered are his astronomical and
mechanical papers and his well-known translation of Josephus's "History
of the Jews."
The pamphlet which follows is written in ridicule of Whiston's prophetic
pronouncements. Scott ascribes its authorship to Swift; but the
"Miscellanies" of 1747 and Hawkesworth in the edition of 1766 of Swift's
Works place it in the list of "Contents," with other pieces, under the
heading, "By Mr. Pope and Mr. Gay."
The present text is practically that given by Scott, which is based on
that in the third edition of the "Miscellanies" of 1732.
[T.S.]
A TRUE AND FAITHFUL
NARRATIVE
OF
_What passed in_ London, _during the General Consternation
of all Ranks and Degrees of Mankind_;
ON TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY, _and_
FRIDAY _last_.
On Tuesday the 13th of October, Mr. Whiston held his lecture, near the
Royal Exchange, to an audience of fourteen worthy citizens, his
subscribers and constant hearers. Besides these, there were five chance
auditors for that night only, who had paid their shillings a-piece. I
think myself obliged to be very particular in this relation, lest my
veracity should be suspected; which makes me appeal to the men who were
present; of which number I myself was one. Their names are,
Henry Watson, _Haberdasher_.
George Hancock, _Druggist_.
John Lewis, _Dry-Salter._
William Jones, _Corn-Chandler._
Henry Theobald, _Watchmaker_.
James Peters, _Draper_.
Thomas Floyer, _Silver-Smith._
John Wells, _Brewer_.
Samuel Greg, _Soap-Boiler_.
William Cooley, _Fish-monger_.
James Harper, _Hosier_.
Robert Tucker, _Stationer_.
George Ford, _Iron-monger_.
Daniel Lynch, _Apothecary_.
William Bennet, }
David Somers, }
Charles Lock, } _Apprentices_.
Leonard Daval, }
Henry Croft, }
Mr. Whiston began by acquainting us, that (contrary to his advertisement)
he thought himself in duty and conscience obliged to change the subject
matter of his intended discourse. Here he paused, and seemed, for a
short space, as it were, lost in devotion and mental prayer; after
which, with great earnestness and vehemence, he spake as follows:
"Friends and fellow-citizens, all speculative science is at an end: the
period of all things is at hand; on Friday next this world shall be no
more. Put not your confidence in me, brethren; for to-morrow morning,
five minutes after five, the truth will be evident; in that instant the
comet shall appear, of which I have heretofore warned you. As ye have
heard, believe. Go hence, and prepare your wives, your families, and
friends, for the universal change."
At this solemn and dreadful prediction, the whole society appeared in
the utmost astonishment: but it would be unjust not to remember, that Mr.
Whiston himself was in so calm a temper, as to return a shilling a-piece
to the youths, who had been disappointed of their lecture, which I
thought, from a man of his integrity, a convincing proof of his own
faith in the prediction.
As we thought it a duty in charity to warn all men, in two or three
hours the news had spread through the city. At first, indeed, our report
met with but little credit; it being, by our greatest dealers in stocks,
thought only a court artifice to sink them, that some choice favourites
might purchase at a lower rate; for the South Sea, that very evening,
fell five _per cent._, the India, eleven, and all the other funds in
proportion. But, at the Court end of the town, our attestations were
entirely disbelieved, or turned into ridicule; yet nevertheless the news
spread everywhere, and was the subject matter of all conversation.
That very night, (as I was credibly informed) Mr. Whiston was sent for to
a great lady, who is very curious in the learned sciences, and addicted
to all the speculative doubts of the most able philosophers; but he was
not now to be found; and since, at other times, he has been known not to
decline that honour, I make no doubt he concealed himself to attend the
great business of his soul: but whether it was the lady's faith, or
inquisitiveness, that occasioned her to send, is a point I shall not
presume to determine. As for his being sent for to the secretary's
office by a messenger, it is now known to be a matter notoriously false,
and indeed at first it had little credit with me, that so zealous and
honest a man should be ordered into custody, as a seditious preacher,
who is known to be so well-affected to the present happy establishment.
'Twas now I reflected, with exceeding trouble and sorrow, that I had
disused family prayers for above five years, and (though it has been a
custom of late entirely neglected by men of any business or station) I
determined within myself no longer to omit so reasonable and religious a
duty. I acquainted my wife with my intentions: But two or three
neighbours having been engaged to sup with us that night, and many hours
being unwarily spent at cards, I was prevailed upon by her to put it off
till the next day; she reasoning, that it would be time enough to take
off the servants from their business (which this practice must
infallibly occasion for an hour or two every day) after the comet had
made its appearance.
Zachery Bowen, a Quaker, and my next neighbour, had no sooner heard of
the prophecy, but he made me a visit. I informed him of everything I had
heard, but found him quite obstinate in his unbelief; for, said he, be
comforted, friend, thy tidings are impossibilities; for, were these
things to happen, they must have been foreseen by some of our brethren.
This indeed (as in all other spiritual cases with this set of people)
was his only reason against believing me; and, as he was fully persuaded
that the prediction was erroneous, he in a very neighbourly manner
admonished me against selling my stock at the present low price, which,
he said, beyond dispute, must have a rise before Monday, when this
unreasonable consternation should be over.
But on Wednesday morning (I believe to the exact calculation of Mr.
Whiston) the comet appeared; for, at three minutes after five by my own
watch, I saw it. He indeed foretold, that it would be seen at five
minutes after five; but, as the best watches may be a minute or two too
slow, I am apt to think his calculation just to a minute.
In less than a quarter of an hour, all Cheapside was crowded with a vast
concourse of people, and notwithstanding it was so early, it is thought
that, through all that part of the town, there was not man, woman, or
child, except the sick or infirm, left in their beds. From my own
balcony, I am confident, I saw several thousands in the street, and
counted at least seventeen, who were upon their knees, and seemed in
actual devotion. Eleven of them, indeed, appeared to be old women of
about fourscore; the six others were men in advanced life, but (as I
could guess) two of them might be under seventy.
It is highly probable, that an event of this nature may be passed over
by the greater historians of our times, as conducing very little or
nothing to the unravelling and laying open the deep schemes of
politicians, and mysteries of state; for which reason, I thought it
might not be unacceptable to record the facts, which, in the space of
three days, came to my knowledge, either as an eye-witness, or from
unquestionable authorities; nor can I think this narrative will be
entirely without its use, as it may enable us to form a more just idea
of our countrymen in general, particularly in regard to their faith,
religion, morals, and politics.
Before Wednesday noon, the belief was universal, that the day of
judgment was at hand, insomuch, that a waterman of my acquaintance told
me, he counted no less than one hundred and twenty-three clergymen, who
had been ferried over to Lambeth before twelve o'clock: these, it is
said, went thither to petition, that a short prayer might be penned, and
ordered, there being none in the service upon that occasion. But, as in
things of this nature, it is necessary that the council be consulted,
their request was not immediately complied with; and this I affirm to be
the true and only reason, that the churches were not that morning so
well attended, and is in noways to be imputed to the fears and
consternation of the clergy, with which the freethinkers have since very
unjustly reproached them.
My wife and I went to church, (where we had not been for many years on a
week-day,) and, with a very large congregation, were disappointed of the
service. But (what will be scarce credible) by the carelessness of a
'prentice, in our absence, we had a piece of fine cambric carried off by
a shop-lifter: so little impression was yet made on the minds of those
wicked women!
I cannot omit the care of a particular director of the Bank; I hope the
worthy and wealthy knight will forgive me, that I endeavour to do him
justice; for it was unquestionably owing to Sir Gilbert Heathcote's[1]
sagacity, that all the fire-offices were required to have a particular
eye upon the Bank of England. Let it be recorded to his praise, that in
the general hurry, this struck him as his nearest and tenderest concern;
but the next day in the evening, after having taken due care of all his
books, bills, and bonds, I was informed, his mind was wholly turned upon
spiritual matters; yet, ever and anon, he could not help expressing his
resentment against the Tories and Jacobites, to whom he imputed that
sudden run upon the Bank, which happened on this occasion.
[Footnote 1: Sir Gilbert Heathcote had before signalized his care for
the Bank when in equal danger, by petitioning against the Lord-Treasurer
Godolphin's being removed, as a measure that would destroy the public
credit. [H.]]
A great man (whom at this time it may not be prudent to name) employed
all the Wednesday morning to make up such an account, as might appear
fair, in case he should be called upon to produce it on the Friday; but
was forced to desist, after having for several hours together attempted
it, not being able to bring himself to a resolution to trust the many
hundred articles of his secret transactions upon paper.
Another seemed to be very melancholy, which his flatterers imputed to
his dread of losing his power in a day or two; but I rather take it,
that his chief concern was the terror of being tried in a court, that
could not be influenced, and where a majority of voices could avail him
nothing. It was observed, too, that he had but few visitors that day.
This added so much to his mortification, that he read through the first
chapter of the book of Job, and wept over it bitterly; in short, he
seemed a true penitent in everything but in charity to his neighbour. No
business was that day done in his counting-house. It is said too, that
he was advised to restitution, but I never heard that he complied with
it, any farther than in giving half-a-crown a-piece to several crazed
and starving creditors, who attended in the outward room.
Three of the maids of honour sent to countermand their birth-day
clothes; two of them burnt all their collections of novels and romances,
and sent to a bookseller's in Pall-Mall to buy each of them a Bible, and
Taylor's "Holy Living and Dying." But I must do all of them the justice
to acknowledge, that they shewed a very decent behaviour in the
drawing-room, and restrained themselves from those innocent freedoms,
and little levities, so commonly incident to young ladies of their
profession. So many birth-day suits were countermanded the next day,
that most of the tailors and mantua makers discharged all their
journeymen and women. A grave elderly lady of great erudition and
modesty, who visits these young ladies, seemed to be extremely shocked
by the apprehensions, that she was to appear naked before the whole
world; and no less so, that all mankind was to appear naked before her;
which might so much divert her thoughts, as to incapacitate her to give
ready and apt answers to the interrogatories that might be made her. The
maids of honour, who had both modesty and curiosity, could not imagine
the sight so disagreeable as was represented; nay, one of them went so
far as to say, she perfectly longed to see it; for it could not be so
indecent, when everybody was to be alike; and they had a day or two to
prepare themselves to be seen in that condition. Upon this reflection,
each of them ordered a bathing-tub to be got ready that evening, and a
looking-glass to be set by it. So much are these young ladies, both by
nature and custom, addicted to cleanly appearance.
A west-country gentleman told me, he got a church-lease filled up that
morning for the same sum which had been refused for three years
successively. I must impute this merely to accident: for I cannot
imagine that any divine could take the advantage of his tenant in so
unhandsome a manner, or that the shortness of the life was in the least
his consideration; though I have heard the same worthy prelate aspersed
and maligned since, upon this very account.