Page images
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

"Who names that lost thing, love, without a tear,
Since so debauched by ill-bred customs here?
To an exact perfection they have brought
The action love, the passion is forgot."

This was long ago a witty author's lamentation, but the evil still continues; and if a man of any delicacy were to attend the discourses of the young fellows of this age, he would believe there were none but prostitutes to make the objects of passion. So true it is what the author of the above verses said, a little before his death, of the modern pretenders to gallantry: "they set up for wits in this age, by saying when they are sober, what they of the last, spoke only when they were drunk.” But Cupid is not only blind at present, but dead drunk; he has lost all his faculties: else how should Celia be so long a maid with that agreeable behaviour? Corinna with that sprightly wit? Lesbia with that heavenly voice? and Sacharissa, with all those excellences in one person, frequent the park, the play, and murder the poor tits that drag her to public places, and not a man turn pale at her appearance? But such is the fallen state of love, that if it were not for honest Cynthio, who is true to the cause, we should hardly have a pattern left of the ancient worthies that way; and indeed, he has but very little encouragement to persevere; but he has a devotion, rather than love, for his mistress, and says,

"Only tell her that I love,

Leave the rest to her and fate;
Some kind planet from above
May, perhaps, her passion move;

Lovers on their stars must wait.'

But the stars I am so intimately acquainted with, that I can assure him he will never have her; for, would you believe it? though Cynthio has wit, good sense, fortune, and his very being depends upon her, the termagant for whom he sighs, is in love with a fellow who stares in the glass all the time he is with her, and lets her plainly see, she may possibly be his rival, but never his mistress. Yet Cynthio, the same unhappy man, whom I mentioned in my first nar. rative, pleases himself with a vain imagination, that with the language of his eyes, now he has found who she is, he shall conquer her, though her eyes are intent upon one who looks from her; which is ordinary with the sex. It is certainly a mistake in the ancients, to draw the little gentleman LOVE, as a blind boy; for his real character is, a little thief that squints; for ask Mrs. Meddle, who is a confidant or spy upon all the passions in town, and she will tell you that the whole is a game of cross purposes. The lover is generally pursuing one who is in pursuit of another, and running from

*These verses are part of a song by Lord Cutts, Steele's early patron. See them entire in Nichols's "Select Collection, 1780," vol. ii. p. 327.

one that desires to meet him. Nay, the nature of this passion is so justly represented in a squinting little thief (who is always in a double action,) that do but observe Clarissa next time you see her, and you will find, when her eyes have made their soft tour round the company, she makes no stay on him they say she is to marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her or any woman else. However, Cynthio had a bow from her the other day, upon which he is very much come to himself; and I heard him send his man of an errand yesterday, without any manner of hesitation; a quarter of an hour after which he reckoned twenty, remembered he was to sup with a friend, and went exactly to his appointment. I sent to know how he did this morning; and I find that he hath not forgot that he spoke to me yesterday.

Will's Coffee-house, April 20.

This week being sacred to holy things, and no public diversions allowed, there has been taken notice of, even here, a little treatise, called, A project for the Advancement of Religion: dedicated to the countess of Berkeley :'* the title was so uncommon, and promised so peculiar a way of thinking, that every man has read it, and as many as have done so, have approved it. It is written with the spirit of one who has seen the world enough to undervalue it with good-breeding. The author must certainly be a man of wisdom as well as piety, and have spent much time in the exercise of both. The real causes of the decay of the interest of religion are set forth in a clear and lively manner without unseasonable passions; and the whole air of the book, as to the language, the sentiments, and the reasonings, shows it was written by one whose virtue sits easy about him, and to whom vice is thoroughly contemptible. It was said by one of the company, alluding to that knowledge of the world the author seems to have, "The man writes much like a gentleman, and goes to heaven with a very good mien."

St. James's Coffee-house, April 20.

Letters from Italy say, that the marquis de Prie, upon the receipt of an express from the court of Vienna, went immediately to the palace of cardinal Paulucci, minister of state to his holiness, and demanded, in the name of his imperial majesty, that king Charles should forthwith be acknowledged king of Spain, by a solemn act of the congregation of cardinals, appointed for that purpose: he declared, at the same time, that if the least hesitation were made in this most important article of the late treaty, he should not only be obliged to leave Rome himself, but also transmit his master's orders to the imperial troops to face about, and return into the ecclesiastical dominions. When the cardinal reported this message to the pope, his holiness was struck with so sensible an afflic tion, that he burst into tears: his sorrow was aggravated by letters which, immediately after,

* First published by Swift, 1709.

arrived from the court of Madrid, wherein his nuncio acquainted him, that, upon the news of his accommodation with the emperor, he had received a message to forbear coming to court; and the people were so highly provoked, that they could hardly be restrained from insulting his palace. These letters add, that the king of Denmark was gone from Florence to Pisa, and from Pisa to Leghorn, where the governor paid his majesty all imaginable honours. The king designed to go from thence to Lucca, where a magnificent tournament was prepared for his diversion. An English man-of-war, which came from Port-Mahon to Leghorn in six days, brought advice, that the fleet, commanded by Admiral Whittaker, was safely arrived at Barcelona, with the troops and ammunition which he had taken in at Naples.

General Boneval, governor of Comachio, had summoned the magistrates of all the towns near that place to appear before him, and take an oath of fidelity to his imperial majesty, commanding also the gentry to pay him homage on pain of death and confiscation of goods. Advices from Switzerland inform us, that the bankers of Geneva were utterly ruined by the failure of Mr. Bernard. They add, that the deputies of the Swiss Cantons were returned from Soleure, where they were assembled at the instance of the French ambassador, but were very much dissatisfied with the reception they had from that minister. It is true, he omitted no civilities or expressions of friendship from his master, but he took no notice of their pensions and arrears: what further provoked their indignation was, that, instead of twentyfive pistoles, formerly allowed to each member, for their charge in coming to the diet, he had presented them with six only. They write from Dresden, that king Augustus was still busy in recruiting his cavalry, and that the Danish troops that lately served in Hungary had orders to be in Saxony by the Middle of May; and that his Majesty of Denmark was expected at Dresden in the beginning of that month. King Augustus makes great preparations for his reception, and has appointed sixty coaches, each drawn by six horses, for that purpose: the interview of these princes affords great matter for speculation. Letters from Paris, of the twenty-second of this month say, that marshal Harcourt and the duke of Berwick were preparing to go into Alsace and Dauphiné, but that their troops were in want of all manner of necessaries. The court of France had received advices from Madrid, that on the seventh of this month, the states of Spain, had, with much magnificence, acknowledged the prince of Asturias presumptive heir to the crown. This was performed at Buen-Retiro; the deputies took the oaths, on that occasion, from the hands of cardinal Portocarrero. These advices add, that it was signified to the pope's nuncio, by order of council, to depart from that court, in twenty-four hours, and that a guard was accordingly appointed to conduct him to Bayonne.

Letters from the Hague, of the twenty-sixth instant, inform us, that prince Eugene was to set out the next day for Brussels, to put all things in readiness for opening the campaign.

They add, that the grand pensioner having reported to the duke of Marlborough what passed in the last conference with Mr. Rouille, his grace had taken a resolution immediately to return to Great Britain, to communicate to her majesty, all that has been transacted in that important affair.

From my own Apartment, April 20.

The nature of my miscellaneous work is such, that I shall always take the liberty to tell for news, such things (let them have happened never so much before the time of writing) as have escaped public notice, or have been misrepresented to the world; provided that I am still within rules, and trespass not as a Tatler, any farther than in an incorrectness of style, and writing in an air of common speech. Thus, if any thing that is said, even of old Anchises or Æneas, be set by me in a different light than has hitherto been hit upon, in order to inspire the love and admiration of worthy actions, you will, gentle reader, I hope, accept of it for intelligence you had not before. But I am going upon a narrative, the matter of which, I know to be true: it is not only doing justice to the deceased merit of such persons as, had they lived, would not have had it in their power to thank me, but also an instance of the greatness of spirit in the lowest of her majesty's subjects. Take it as follows:

At the siege of Namur, by the allies, there were in the ranks of the company commanded by captain Pincent, in colonel Frederick Hamilton's regiment, one Union, a corporal, and one Valentine, a private centinel; there happened between these two men a dispute about a matter of love, which upon some aggravations, grew to an irreconcileable hatred Union, being the officer of Valentine, took all opportunities even to strike his rival, and to profess the spite and revenge which moved him to it. The centinel bore it without resistance; but frequently said, he would die to be revenged of that tyrant. They had spent whole months thus, one injuring, the other complaining; when, in the midst of this rage towards each other, they were commanded upon the attack of the castle, where the corporal received a shot in the thigh, and fell; the French pressing on, and he expecting to be trampled to death, called out to his enemy, 'Ah Valentine! can you leave me here?' Valentine immediately ran back, and in the midst of a thick fire of the French, took the corporal upon his back, and brought him through all that danger, as far as the abbey of Salsine, where a cannon ball took off his head : his body fell under his enemy whom he was carrying off. Union immediately forgot his wound, rose up, tearing his hair, and then threw himself upon the bleeding carcass, crying, 'Ah, Valentine! was it for me, who have so barbarously used thee, that thou hast died? I will not live after thee.' He was not, by any means, to be forced from the body, but was removed with it bleeding in his arms, and attended with tears by all their comrades who knew their enmity. When he was brought to a tent, his wounds were dressed by force; but the next

day, still calling upon Valentine, and lament- | character; for she is so well known to have ing his cruelties to him, he died in the pangs of remorse and despair.

It may be a question among men of noble sentiments, whether of these unfortunate persons had the greater soul; he that was so generous as to venture his life for his enemy, or he who could not survive the man that died, in laying upon him such an obligation?

When we see spirits like these in a people, to what height may we not suppose their glory may rise? but (as it is excellently observed by Sallust) it is not only to the general bent of a nation that great revolutions are owing, but to the extraordinary genio's that lead them. On which occasion, he proceeds to say, that the Roman greatness was neither to be attributed to their superior policy, for in that the Carthaginians excelled; nor to their valour, for in that the Gauls were preferable; but to particular men, who were born for the good of their country, and formed for great attempts. This he says, to introduce the characters of Cæsar and Cato. It would be entering into too weighty a discourse for this place, if I attempted to show, that our nation has produced as great and able men for public affairs as any other. But, I believe, the reader outruns me, and fixes his imagination upon the Duke of Marlborough. It is, methinks, a pleasing reflection, to consider the dispensations of Providence in the fortune of this illustrious man, who, in the space of forty years, has passed through all the gradations of human life, until he has ascended to the character of a prince,* and become the scourge of a tyrant, who sat on one of the greatest thrones of Europe, before the man who was to have the greatest part in his downfall, had made one step into the world. But such elevations are the natural consequences of an exact prudence, a calm courage, a well-governed temper, a patient ambition, and an affable behaviour. These arts, as they were the steps to his greatness, so they are the pillars of it now it is raised. To this, her glorious son, Great Britain is indebted for the happy conduct of her arms, of whom she can boast, that she has produced a man formed by nature to lead a nation of heroes.

[blocks in formation]

no passion but self-love, or folly but affectation, that now, upon any occasion, they only cry, 'It is her way!' and, That is so like her!' without farther reflection. As I came into the room, she cries, 'Oh! Mr. Bickerstaff, I am utterly undone; I have broke that pretty Italian fan I showed you when you were here last, wherein were so admir. ably drawn our first parents in Paradise, asleep in each other's arms. But there is such an affinity between painting and poetry, that I have been improving the images which were raised by that picture, by reading the same representation in two of our greatest poets. Look you, here are the same passages in Milton and in Dryden. All Milton's thoughts are wonderfully just and natural, in that inimitable description which Adam makes of himself, in the eighth book of Paradise Lost. But there is none of them finer than that contained in the following lines, where he tells us his thoughts, when he was falling asleep, a little after the creation :

While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither,
From whence I first drew air, and first beheld
This happy light; when answer none returned,
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers,
Pensive I sate me down, there gentle sleep
My drowned sense, untroubled, though I thought
First found me, and with soft oppression seized
I then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve.

But now I cannot forgive this odious thing, this Dryden, who, in his "State of Innocence," has given my great grandmother Eve the same apprehension of annihilation on a very different occasion; as Adam pronounces it of himself, when he was seized with a pleasing kind of stupor and deadness, Eve fancies herself falling away, and dissolving in the hurry of a rapture. However, the verses are very good, and I do not know but what she says may be natural; I will

read them:

When your kind eyes looked languishing on mine,
And wreathing arms did soft embraces join;
A doubtful trembling seized me first all o'er,
Then wishes, and a warmth unknown before;
What followed was all ecstasy and trance,

Immortal pleasures round my swimming eyes did dance,
And speechless joys, in whose sweet tumults tost,
I thought my breath and my new being lost.

She went on, and said a thousand good things at random, but so strangely mixed, that you would be apt to say, all her wit is mere good luck, and not the effect of reason and judgment. When I made my escape hither, I found a gentleman playing the critic on two other great poets, even Virgil and Homer.* He was observing that Virgil is more judicious than the other in the epithets he gives his hero. Homer's usual epithet, said he, is Hodas wxvs, or Hodaexus, and his indiscretion has been often rallied by the critics, for mentioning the nimbleness of foot in Achilles, though he describes him standing, sitting, lying down, fighting, eating, drink

* Addison, on reading here this curious remark upon Virgil, which he himself had communicated to Steele, instantly discovered that his friend was the author of the Tatler, to which, he very soon after became a principal contributor. He was at this time in Ireland, secretary to lord Wharton, and returned to England with the lord lieutenant, the eighth of September following, 1709.

This was the twenty-third day, which is full of incidents, and which continues from almost the beginning of the second canto to the eighth.

ing, or in any other circumstance, however for- | them his dream, and, together with Nestor and eign or repugnant to speed and activity. Virgil's Ulysses, resolves on an engagement. common epithet to Æneas, is Pius or Pater. I have therefore considered, said he, what passage there is in any of his hero's actions, where either of these appellations would have been most proper, to see if I could catch him at the same fault with Homer: and this, I think, is his meeting with Dido in the cave, where Pius Eneas would have been absurd, and Pater Eneas a burlesque: the poet, therefore, wisely dropped them both for Dux Trojanus; which he has repeated twice in Juno's speech, and his own narration: for he very well knew, a loose action might be consistent enough with the usual manners of a soldier, though it became neither the chastity of a pious man, nor the gravity of the father of a people.

Grecian Coffee-house, April 22.

While other parts of the town are amused with the present actions, we generally spend the evening at this table in inquiries into antiquity, and think any thing news which gives us new knowledge. Thus we are making a very pleasant entertainment to ourselves, in putting the actions of Homer's Iliad into an exact journal.

This poem is introduced by Chryses, king of Chryseis, and priest of Apollo, who comes to redemand his daughter, who had been carried off at the taking of that city, and given to Agamemnon for his part of the booty. The refusal he received enrages Apollo, who for nine days, showered down darts upon them, which occasioned the pestilence.

The armies being then drawn up in view of one another, Hector brings it about, that Menelaus and Paris, the two persons concerned in the quarrel, should decide it by a single combat, which tending to the advantage of Menelaus, was interrupted by a cowardice infused by Minerva: then both armies engage, where the Trojans have the disadvantage; but being afterwards animated by Apollo, they repulse the enemy, yet they are once again forced to give ground; but their affairs were retrieved by Hector, who has a single combat with Ajax. The gods threw themselves into the battle: Juno and Minerva took the Grecians' part, and Apollo and Mars, the Trojans'; but Mars and Venus are both wounded by Diomedes.

The truce for burying the slain ended the twenty-third day, after which the Greeks threw up a great intrenchment, to secure their navy from danger. Councils are held on both sides. On the morning of the twenty-fourth day, the battle is renewed, but in a very disadvantageous manner to the Greeks, who are beaten back to their intrenchments. Agamemnon, being in despair at this ill success, proposes to the council to quit the enterprise, and retire from Troy. But, by the advice of Nestor, he is persuaded to regain Achilles, by returning Chryseis, and sending him considerable presents. Hereupon Ulysses and Ajax are sent to that hero, who continues inflexible in his anger. Ulysses, at The tenth day, Achilles assembled the coun- his return, joins himself with Diomedes, and cil, and encourages Chalcas to speak for the sur-goes in the night to gain intelligence of the render of Chryseïs, to appease Apollo. Agamemnon and Achilles storm at one another, notwithstanding which, Agamemnon will not release his prisoner, unless he has Briseis in her stead. After long contestations, wherein Agamemnon gives a glorious character of Achilles's valour, he determines to restore Chryseïs to her father, and sends two heralds to fetch away Briseis from Achilles, who abandons himself to sorrow and despair. His mother Thetis, comes to comfort him under his affliction, and promises to represent his sorrowful lamentation to Jupiter: but he could not attend to it; for, the evening before, he had appointed to divert himself for two days, beyond the seas, with the harmless Ethiopians.

It was the twenty-first day after Chryseis's arrival at the camp, that Thetis went very early to demand an audience of Jupiter. The means he used to satisfy her were, to persuade the Greeks to attack the Trojans; that so they might perceive the consequence of contemning Achilles, and the miseries they suffer if he does not head them. The next night he orders Agamemnon, in a dream, to attack them; who was deceived with the hopes of obtaining a victory, and also taking the city, without sharing the honour with Achilles.

On the twenty-second, in the morning, he assembles the council, and having made a feint of raising the siege and retiring, he declares to

enemy: they enter into their very camp, where finding the centinels asleep, they made a great slaughter. Rhesus, who was just then arrived with recruits from Thrace, for the Trojans, was killed in that action. Here ends the tenth canto. The sequel of this journal, will be inserted in the next article from this place.

St. James's Coffee-house, April 22.

We hear from Italy, that notwithstanding the pope has received a letter from the duke of Anjou, demanding of him to explain himself upon the affair of acknowledging king Charles, his holiness has not yet thought fit to send any answer to that prince. The court of Rome appears very much mortified, that they are not to see his majesty of Denmark in that city, having perhaps given themselves vain hopes from a visit made by a Protestant prince to that see. The pope has despatched a gentleman to compliment his majesty, and sent the king a present of all the curiosities and antiquities of Rome, represented in seventeen volumes, very richly bound, which were taken out of the Vatican library. Letters from Genoa of the fourteenth instant, say, that a felucca was arrived there, in five days from Marseilles, with an account, that the people of that city had made an insurrection, by reason of the scarcity of provisions; and that the intendant had ordered some com

panies of marines, and the men belonging to the galleys, to stand to their arms to protect him from violence; but that he began to be in as much apprehension of his guards, as of those from whom they were to defend him. When that vessel came away, the soldiers murmured publicly for want of pay; and it was generally believed, they would pillage the magazines, as the garrisons of Grenoble and other towns of France had already done. A vessel which lately came into Leghorn, brought advice that the British squadron was arrived at Port Mahon, where they were taking in more troops, in order to attempt the relief of Alicant, which still made a very vigorous defence. It is said admiral Byng will be at the head of that expedition. The king of Denmark was gone from Leghorn towards Lucca.

They write from Vienna, that in case the allies should enter into a treaty of peace with France, count Zinzendorf will be appointed first plenipotentiary, the count de Goes the second, and monsieur Van Konsbruch a third. Majorgeneral Palmes, envoy extraordinary from her Britannic majesty, has been very urgent with that court, to make their utmost efforts against France the ensuing campaign, in order to oblige her to such a peace, as may establish the tranquillity of Europe for the future.

We are also informed, that the pope uses all imaginable shifts to elude the treaty concluded with the emperor, and that he demanded the immediate restitution of Comachio; insisting also, that his imperial majesty should ask pardon, and desire absolution for what had formerly passed, before he would solemnly acknowledge king Charles. But this was utterly refused.

They hear at Vienna, by letters from Constantinople, dated the twenty-second of February last, that on the twelfth of that month, the grand seignior took occasion, at the celebration of the festivals of the Mussulmen, to set all the Christian slaves, which were in the galleys, at liberty.

Advices from Switzerland import, that the preachers of the county of Tockenburg, continue to create new jealousies of the Protestants; and some disturbances lately happened there on that account. The Protestants and Papists in the town of Hamman, go to divine service one after another, in the same church, as is usual in many other parts of Switzerland; but on Sunday, the tenth instant, the popish curate, having ended his service, attempted to hinder the Protestants from entering into the church, according to custom; but the Protestants briskly attacked him and his party, and broke into it by force.

Last night, between seven and eight, his grace the duke of Marlborough, arrived at court.

From my own Apartment, April 22.

The present great captains of the age, the duke of Marlborough and prince Eugene, having been the subject of the discourse of the last company I was in; it has naturally led me into a consideration of Alexander and Cæsar, the two greatest names that ever appeared before

this century. In order to enter into their characters, there needs no more but examining their behaviour in parallel circumstances. It must be allowed that they had an equal greatness of soul; but Cæsar's was more corrected, and allayed by a mixture of prudence and circumspection. This is seen conspicuously in one particular, in their histories, wherein they seem to have shown exactly the difference of their tempers. When Alexander, after a long course of victories, would still have led his soldiers farther from home, they unanimously refused to follow him. We meet with the like behaviour in Cæsar's army, in the midst of his march against Ariovistus. Let us, therefore, observe the conduct of our two generals in so nice an affair: and here we find Alexander at the head of his army, upbraiding them with their cowardice, and meanness of spirit; and, in the end, telling them plainly, he would go forward himself, though not a man followed him. This showed, indeed, an excessive bravery; but how would the commander have come off, if the speech had not succeeded, and the soldiers had taken him at his word? the project seems of a piece with Mr. Bayes's in 'The Rehearsal,' who, to gain a clap in his prologue, comes out with a terrible fellow, in a fur-cap, following him, and tells his audience, if they would not like his play, he would lie down and have his head struck off. If this gained a clap, all was well: but if not, there was nothing left but for the executioner to do his office. But Cæsar would not leave the success of his speech to such uncertain events, he shows his men the unreasonableness of their fears in an obliging manner, and concludes, that if none else would march along with him, he would go himself, with the tenth legion, for he was assured of their fidelity and valour, though all the rest forsook him; not but that, in all probability, they were as much against the march as the rest. The result of all was very natural: the tenth legion, fired with the praises of their general, send thanks to him for the just opinion he entertains of them; and the rest, ashamed to be outdone, assure him, that they are as ready to follow where he pleases to lead them, as any other part of the army.

[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »