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loft in a church; where they had a cold treat, and some few opera songs, to their great refreshment and caification. Whether these prudent persons had not been as much so if this had been done at a tavern, is not very hard to determine. It is such silly starts and incoherences as these, which undervalue the beauteous sex, and puzzle us in our choice of sweetness of temper and simplicity of manners, which are the only lasting charms of woman. But I must leave this important subject, at present, for some matters which press for publication; as you will observe in the following letter :
• London, Artillery Ground, August 26.
* DEAR SIR,--It is natural for distant relations to claim kindred with a rising family; though at this time zeal to my country, not interest, calls me out. The city forces being shortly to take the field, all good protestants would be pleased that their arms and valour should shine with equal lustre. A council of war was lately held, the honourable colonel Mortar being president. After many debates, it was unanimously resolved, That major Blunder, a most expert officer, should be detached for Birmingham, to buy arms, and to prove his firelocks on the spot, as well to prevent expense, as disappointment in the day of battle. The major, being a person of consummate experience, was invested with a discretionary power. He knew from ancient story, that securing the rear, and making a glorious retreat, was the most celebrated piece of conduct. Accordingly such measures were taken to prevent surprise in the rear of his arms, that even Pallas herself, in the shape of rust, could not invade them. They were drawn into close order, firmly embodied, and arrived securely without touch-holes. Great and national actions deserve popular applause; and as praise is no expense to the public, therefore dearest kinsman, I communicate this to you, as well to oblige this nursery of heroes, as to do justice to my native country. I am your most affection
ate kinsman, OFFSPRING TWIG.'
“A war-horse, belonging to one of the colonels of the artillery, to be let or sold. He may be seen adorned with ribbands, and set forth to the best advantage, the next training day.'
No. 62.] Thursday, September 1, 1709.
Quicquid agunt homines nostriest farrago libelli. Jur. Sat. i. 85,86.
Whatever good is done, orhaterer ill— By human kind, shall this collection fill.
White's Chocolate-house, August 31.
This place being frequented by persons of condition, I am desired to recommend a dogkennel to any who shall want a pack. It lies not far from Suffolk-street, and is kept by two who were formerly dragoons in the French service; but left plundering for the more orderly life of keeping dogs: besides that, according to their expectation, they find it more profitable, as well as more conducing to the safety of their
skin, to follow this trade, than the beat of drum. Their residence is very convenient for the dogs to whelp in, and bring up a right breed to follow the scent. The .#. of the kennel are blood-hounds, which lead the van, and are as follow :
A List of the dogs.
Jowler, of a right Irish breed, called Captain. Rockwood, of French race, with long hair, by the courtesy of England, called also Captain. Pompey, a tall hound, kennelled in a convent in France, and knows a rich soil. These two last hunt in couple, and are followed by Ringwood, a French black whelp of the same breed, a fine open-mouthed dog ; and an old sick hound, always in kennel, but of the true blood, with a good nose, French breed. There is also an Italian grey-hound, with good legs, and knows perfectly the ground from Ghent to Paris. Ten setting-dogs, right English. Four mongrels of the same nation. And twenty whelps, fit for any game. These curs are so extremely hungry, that they are too keen at the sport, and worry their game before the keepers can come in. The other day a wild boar from the north rushed into the kennel, and at first, indeed, defended himself against the whole pack; but they proved at last too many for him, and tore twenty-five pounds of flesh from off his back, with which they filled their bellies, and made so great a noise in the neighbourhood, that the keepers are obliged to hasten the sale. That quarter of the town where they are kennelled is generally inhabited by strangers, whose blood the hounds have often sucked in such a manner, that many a German count, and other virtuosi, who came from the continent, have lost the intention of their travels, and been unable to proceed on their journey. If these hounds are not very soon disposed of to some good purchaser, as also those at the kennels near St. James's, it is humbly proposed, that they may be altogether transported to America, where the dogs are few, and the wild beasts many: or that, during their stay in these parts, some eminent justice of the peace may have it in particular direction to visit their harbours; and that the sheriff of Middlesex may allow him the assistance of the common hangman to cut off their ears, or part of them, for distinction-sake, that we may know the blood-hounds from the mongrels and setters. Until these things are regulated, you may inquire at a house belonging to Paris, at the upper end of Suffolk-street, or a house belonging to Ghent, opposite to the lower end of Pall Mall, and know further. It were to be wished that these curs were disposed of; for it is a very great nuisance to have them tolerated in cities. That of London takes care, that the ‘Common Hunt,’ assisted by the serjeants and bailiffs, expel them whenever they are found within the walls; though it is said, some private families keep them, to the destruction of their neighbours; but it is desired, that all who know of any of these curs, or have been bit by them, would send me their marks, and the houses where they are harboured ; and I do
not doubt but I shall alarm the people so well, as to have them used like mad dogs wherever they appear. In the mean time, I advise all such as entertain this kind of vermin, that if they give me timely notice that their dogs are dismissed, I shall let them go unregarded ; otherwise am obliged to admonish my fellow-subjects in this behalf, and instruct them how to avoid being worried, when they are going about their lawful professions and callings. There was lately a young gentleman bit to the bone; who has now indeed recovered his health, but is as lean as a skeleton. It grieved my heart to see a gentleman's son run among the hounds; but he is, they tell me, as fleet and as dangerous as the best of the pack.
Will's Coffee-house, August 31.
This evening was spent at our table in discourse of propriety of words and thoughts, which is Mr. Dryden's definition of wit; but a very odd fellow, who would intrude upon us, and has a briskness of imagination more like madness than regular thoughts, said, that “Harry Jacks was the first who told him of the taking of the citadel of Tournay; and,’ says he, ‘Harry deserves a statue more than the boy who ran to the senate with a thorn in his foot, to tell of a victory.' We were astonished at the assertion; and Spondee asked him “What affinity is there between that boy and Harry, that you say their merit has so near a resemblance as you just now told us?” “Why," says he, ‘Harry, you know, is in the French interest; and it was more pain to him to tell the story of Tournay, than to the boy to run upon a thorn to relate the victory which he was glad of." The gentleman, who was in the chair upon the subject of propriety of words and thoughts, would by no means al. low, that there was wit in this comparison; and urged, that ‘to have any thing gracefully said, it must be natural; but that whatsoever was introduced in common discourse with so much premeditation, was insufferable.' That critic went on : " Had Mr. Jacks,” said he, “told him the citadel was taken, and another had answered, “he deserves a statue as well as the Roman boy, for he told it with as much pain,” it might have passed for a sprightly expression; but there is a wit for discourse, and a wit for writing. The easiness and familiarity of the first is not to savour in the least of study; but the exactness of the other is to admit of something like the freedom of discourse, especially in treatises of humanity, and what regards the belles lettres. I do not in this allow, that Bickerstaff's Tatlers, or discourses of wit by retail, and for the penny, should come within the description of writing.’ I bowed at his compliment, and—But he would not let me proceed.
You see in no place of conversation the perfection of speech so much as in an accomplished woman. Whether it be, that there is a partiality irresistible when we judge of that sex, or what. ever it is, you may observe a wonderful freedom in their utterance, and an easy flow of words, without being distracted (as we often are who read much) in the choice of dictions and phrases. My lady Courtly is an instance of this. She was
talking the other day of dress, and did it with so excellent an air and gesture, that you would have sworn she had learned her action from our Demosthenes. Besides which, her words were so particularly well adapted to the matter she talked of, that though dress was a new thing to us men, she avoided the terms of art in it, and described an unaffected garb.and manner in so proper terms, that she came up to that of Horace's ‘simpler munditiis; which whoever can translate in two words, has as much eloquence as lady Courtly. I took the liberty to tell her, that “all she had said with so much good grace, was spoken in two words in Horace, but would not undertake to translate them; upon which she smiled, and told me, “she believed me a very great scholar;' and I took my leave.
From my own Apartment, August 31.
I have been just now reading the introduc. tion to the history of Catiline by Sallust, an author who is very much in my favour: but when I reflect upon his professing himself wholly disinterested, and, at the same time, see how industriously he has avoided saying any thing to the praise of Cicero, to whose vigilance the commonwealth owed its safety, it very much lessens my esteem for that writer; and is one argument, among others, for laughing at all who pretend to be out of the interests of the world, and profess purely to act for the service of mankind, without the least regard to themselves. I do not deny but that the rewards are different; some aim at riches, others at honour, by their public services. However, they are all pursuing some end to themselves, though indeed those ends differ as much as right and wrong. The most grateful way then, I should think, would be to acknowledge, that you aim at serving yourselves; but, at the same time make it appear, it is for the service of others that you have these opportunities.
Of all the disinterested professors I have ever heard of, I take the boatswain of Dampier's ship to be the most impudent, but the most excusable. You are to know that, in the wild searches that navigator was making, they happened to be out at sea, far distant from any shore, in want of all the necessaries of life: insomuch that they began to look, not without hunger, on each other. The boatswain was a fat, healthy, fresh fellow, and attracted the eyes of the whole crew. In such an extreme necessity, all forms of superiority were laid aside: the captain and lieutenant were safe only by being carrion, and the unhappy boatswain in danger only by being worth eating. To be short, the company were unanimous, and the boatswain must be cut up. He saw their intention, and desired he might speak a few words before they proceeded; which being permitted, he delivered himself as follows:
“GENTLEMEN sailors, Far be it that I should speak it for any private interest of my own; but I take it that I should not die with a good conscience, if I did not confess to you, that I am not sound. I say, gentlemen, justice and the testimony of a good conscience, as well as
love of my country, to which I hope you will all return, oblive me to own, that black Kate at Deptford has made me very unsafe to eat; and, I speak it with shame, I am afraid, gentlemen, I should poison you.'
This speech had a good effect in the boatswain's favour; but the surgeon of the ship protested he had cured him very well, and offered to eat the first steak of him himself.
The boatswain replied, like an orator, with a true notion of the people, and in hopes to gain time, that “he was heartily glad if he could be for their service;' and thanked the surgeon for his information. ‘However,' said he, “I must inform you for your own good, that I have, ever since my cure, been very thirsty and dropsical; therefore, I presume, it would be much better to tap me, and drink me off, than eat me at once, and have no man in the ship fit to be drunk.” As he was going on with his harangue, a fresh gale arose, and gave the crew hopes of a better repast at the nearest shore, to which they arrived next morning.
Most of the self-denials we meet with are of this sort; therefore I think he acts fairest who owns, he hopes at least to have brother's fare, without professing that he gives himself up with pleasure to be devourcd for the preservation of his fellows.
St. James's Coffee-house, August 31.
Letters from the Hague of the sixth of September, N. S. say, that the governor of the citadel of Tournay having offered their highnesses the duke of Marlborough and the prince of Savoy to surrender that place on the thirty-first of the last month, on terms which were not allowed them by those princes, hostilities were thereupon renewed; but that on the third the place was surrendered, with a seeming condition granted to the besieged, above that of being prisoners of war: for they were forthwith to be conducted to Conde, but were to be exchanged for prisoners of the allies, and particularly those of Warneton were mentioned in the demand. Both armies having stretched towards Mons with the utmost diligence, that of the allies, though they passed the much more difficult road, arrived first before that town, which they have now actually invested; and the quarter-master-general was, at the time of despatching these letters, marking the ground for the encampment of the covering army.
To the booksellers, or others whom this advertisement may concern.
Mr. Omicron," the unborn poet, gives notice, that he writes all treatises, as well in verse as prose, being a ninth son, and translates out of all languages, without learning or study.
If any bookseller will treat for his pastoral on the siege and surrender of the citadel of Tournay, he must send in his proposals before the news of a capitulation for any other town.
* Mr. Oldmixon was here ridiculed under the title of Mr. Omicron. S
I HAVE ever thought it the greatest diminution to the Roman glory imaginable, that in their institution of public triumphs, they led their enemies in chains when they were prisoners. It is to be allowed that doing all honour to the superiority of heroes above the rest of mankind, must needs conduce to the glory and advantage of a nation; but what shocks the imagination to reflect upon is, that a polite people should think it reasonable, that an unhappy man, who was no way inferior to the victor but by the chance of war, should be led like a slave at the wheels of his chariot. Indeed, these other circumstances of a triumph, that it was not allowed in a civil war, lest one part should be in tears, while the other was making acclamations; that it should not be granted, except such a number were slain in battle : that the general should be disgraced who made a false muster of his dead; these, I say, had great and politic ends in their being established, and tended to the apparent benefit of the commonwealth. But this behaviour to the conquered had no foundation in nature or policy, only to gratify the insolence of a haughty people, who triumphed over barbarous nations, by acting what was fit only for those very barbarians to practice. It seems wonderful, that they who were so refined as to take care, that to complete the honour done to the victorious officer, no power should be known above him in the empire on the day of his triumph, but that the consuls themselves should be but guests at his table that evening, could not take it into thought to make the man of chief note among his prisoners one of the company. This would have improved the gladness of the occasion ; and the victor had made a much greater figure, in that no other man appeared unhappy on his day, than because no other man appeared great.
But we will wave at present such important incidents, and turn our thoughts rather to the familiar part of human life, and we shall find, that the great business we contend for is in a less degree what those Romans did on more solemn occasions, to triumph over our fellowcreatures; and there is hardly a man to be found, who would not rather be in pain to appear happy, than be really happy and thought miserable. This men attempt by sumptuous equipages, splendid houses, numerous servants, and all the cares and pursuits of an ambitious or fashionable life.
Bromeo and Tabio are particularly ill-wishers to each other, and rivals in happiness. There is no way in nature so good to procure the esteem of the one, as to give him little notices of certain secret points, wherein the other is uneasy. Gnatho has the skill of doing this, and never applauds the improvements Bromco has been many years making, and ever, will be making; but he adds, “Now this verything was my thought when Tabio was pulling up his underwood, yet he never would hear of it; but now your gardens are in this posture, he is ready to hang himself. Well, to be sincere, that situation of his can never make an agreeable seat; he may make his house and appurtenances what he pleases, but he cannot remove them to the same ground where Bromeo's stands; and of all things under the sun, a man that is happy at second-hand is the most monstrous.” “It is a very strange madness,' answers Bromeo, “if a man on these occasions can think of any end but pleasing himself. As for my part, if things are qonvenient, I hate all ostentation. There is no end of the folly of adapting our affairs to the imagination of others.' Upon which, the next thing he does is to enlarge whatever he hears his rival has attempted to imitate him in ; but their misfortune is, that they are in their time of life, in their estates, and in their understandings, equal; so that the emulation may continue to the last day of their lives. As it stands now, Tabio has heard, that Bromeo has lately purchased two hundred a year in the annuities since he last settled the account of their happiness, in which he thought himself to have the balance. This may seem a very fantastical way of thinking in these men; but there is nothing so common, as a man's endeavouring rather to go farther than some other person towards an easy fortune, than to form any certain standard that would make himself happy.
Will's Coffeehouse, September 2.
Mr. Dactyle has been this cvening very profuse of his eloquence upon the talent of turning things into ridicule; and seemed to say very justly, that “there was generally in it something too disingenuous for the society of liberal men, except it were governed by the circumstances of persons, time, and place. This talent,' continued he, “is to be used as a man does his sword, not to be drawn but in his own defence, or to bring pretenders and impostors in society to a true light. But we have seen this faculty so mistaken, that the burlesque of Virgil himself has passed, among men cof little taste, for wit:' and the noblest thoughts that can enter into the heart of man levelled with ribaldry and baseness: though by the rules of justice, no man ought to be ridiculed for any imperfection, who does not set up for eminent sufficiency in that way wherein he is defective. Thus cowards, who would hide themselves by an af. fected terror in their mien and dress; and pe. dants, who would show the depth of their knowledge by a supercilious gravity, are equally the objects of laughter. Not that they are in them. selves ridiculous, for their want of courage, or weakness of understanding; but that they seem insensible of their own place in life, and unhap. Pily rank themselves with those * whose abilitics,
compared to their defects, make them contemptible. At the same time, it must be remarked, that, risibility being the effect of reason, a man ought to be expelled from sober company who laughs without it. ‘Ha! has' says Will Truby, who sat by, “will any man pretend to give me laws when I should laugh, or tell me what I should laugh at 7' ‘Look ye,’ answered Humphry Slyboots, “you are mightily mistaken; you may, if you please, make what noise you will, and nobody can hinder an English gentleman from putting his face into what posture he thinks fit; but take my word for it, that motion which you now make with your mouth open, and the agitation of your stomach, which you relieve by holding your sides, is not laughter: laughter is a more weighty thing than you imagine; and I will tell you a secret—you never did laugh in your life: and truly I am afraid you never will, except you take great care to be cured of those convulsive fits.' Truby left us, and when he had got two yards from us, ‘Well,' said he, “you are strange fellows o' and was immediately taken with another fit.
The Trubies are a well-natured family, whose particular make is such, that they have the same pleasure out of good-will, which other people have in that scorn which is the cause of laughter: therefore their bursting into the figures of men, when laughing, proceeds only from a general benevolence they are born with ; as the Slyboots smile only on the greatest occasion of mirth; which difference is caused rather from a different structure of their organs, than that one is less moved than the other. I know Sourly frcts inwardly, when Will Truby laughs at him; but when I meet him, and he bursts out, I know it is out of his abundant joy to see me, which he expresses by that vociferation which is in others laughter. But I shall defer considering this subject at large, until I come to my treatise of oscitation, laughter, and ridicule.
From my own Apartment, September 2.
The following letter being a panegyric upon me for a quality which every man may attain, an acknowledgment of his faults; I thought it for the good of my fellow-writers to publish it.
‘SIR,--It must be allowed, that esquire Bickerstaff is of all authors the most ingenuous. There are few, very few, that will own themselves in a mistake, though all the world see them to be in downright nonsense. You will be pleased, sir, to pardon this expression, for the same reason for which you once desired us to xcuse you, when you seemed any thing dull. Most writers, like the generality of Paul” Lorraine's saints, seem to place a peculiar vanity in dying hard. But you, sir, to show a good example to your brethren, have not only consessed, but of your own accord mended the indictment. Nay, you have been so good-natured as to discover beauties in it, which, I will assure you, he that drew it never dreamed of And, to make your civility the more accomplished, you have honoured him with the title of your kinsman, which, though derived by the left-hand, he is not a little proud of My brother, for such Obadiah is, being at present very busy about nothing, has ordered me to return you his sincere thanks for all these favours; and, as a small token of his gratitude, to communicate to you the following piece of intelligenae, which he thinks, belongs more properly to you than to any others of our modern historians. “Madonella, who, as it was thought, had long since taken her flight towards the ethereal mansions, still walks, it scems, in the regions of mortality, where she has found, by deep reflections on the revolution mentioned in yours of June the twenty-third, that where early instructions have been wanting to imprint true ideas of things on the tender souls of those of her sex, they are never after able to arrive at such a pitch of perfection, as to be above the laws of matter and motion ; laws which are considerably enforced by the principles usually imbibed in nurseries and boarding schools. To remedy this evil, she has laid the scheme of a college for young damsels; where (instead of scissars, needles, and samplers) pens, compasses, quadrants, books, manuscripts, Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, are to take up their whole time. Only on holidays the students will, for moderate exercise, be allowed to divert themselves with the use of some of the lightest and most valuble weapons; and proper care will be taken to give them at least a superficial tincture of the ancient and modern Amazonian tactics. Of these military performances, the direction is undertaken by Epicene,” the writer of “Memoirs from the Mediterranean,’ who, by the help of some artificial poison conveyed by smells, has within these few weeks brought many persons of both sexes to an untimely fate; and, what is more surprising, has, contrary to her profession, with the same odours, revived others who had long since been drowned in the whirlpools of Lethe. Another of the professors is to be a certain lady, who is now publishing two of the choicest Saxon novels,t which are said to have been in as great repute with the ladics of queen Emma's court, as the “Memoirs from the New Atalantis' are with those of ours. I shall make it my business to inquire into the progress of this learned institution, and give you the first notice of their * Philosophical Transactions, and Searches after Nature.’ Yours, &c. * TOBIAH GREEN HAT."
* Mr. Paul Lorraine was at this time the ordinary of Newgate.
St. James's Coffee-house, September 2.
This day we have received advices by the way of Ostend, which give an account of an engagement between the French and the allies, on the eleventh instant, N. S. Marshal Boufilers arrived in the enemy's camp on the fifth, and acquainted marshal Villars, that he did not come in any character, but to receive his cominands
* Epicone means Mrs. D. Mauley. t \irs. Elizabeth Elstob, the lady here mentioned, is a striking instance, that no accomplishments, natural or acquired, could protect their possessor, of whatever merit or sex, from the insults of this libertille wit. e
for the king's service, and communicate to him his orders upon the present posture of affairs. On the ninth, both armies advanced towards each other, and cannonaded all the ensuing day, until the close of the evening, and stood on their arms all that night. On the day of battle the cannonading was renewed about seven : the duke of Argyle had orders to attack the wood Sart on the right, which he exccuted so success. fully, that he pierced through it, and won a considerable post. The prince of Orange had the same good fortune in a wood on the left: after which the whole body of the confederates, joined by the forces from the siege, marched up and engaged the enemy, who were drawn up at some distance from these woods. The dispute was very warm for some time; but towards noon, the French began to give ground from one wing to the other; which advantage being observed by our generals, the whole army was urged on with fresh vigour, and in a few hours the day ended with the entire defeat of the enemy.
No. 64.] Tuesday, September 6, 1709.
Quarcaret ora cruore nostro 7 Hor, 1 Od. ii. 36.
What coast, encircled by the briny flood, Boasts not the glorious tribute of our blood.
From my own Apartment, September 5.
WinFN I lately spoke of triumphs, and the behaviour of the Romans on those occasions, I knew, by my skill in astrology, that there was a great event approaching to our advantage; but, not having yet taken upon me to tell fortunes, I thought fit to defer the mention of the battle near Mons until it happened; which moderation was no small pain to me; but I should wrong my art, if I concealed that some of my aerial intelligencers had signified to me the news of it even from Paris, before the arrival of lieutenant-colonel Graham in England.* All nations, as well as persons, have their good and evil genius attending them ; but the kingdom of France has three, the last of which is neither for it nor against it in reality; but has for some months past acted an ambiguous part, and attempted to save its ward from the incursion of its powerful enemies, by little subterfuges and tricks, which a nation is more than undone when it is reduced to practise. Thus, instead of giving exact accounts and representations of things, they tell what is indeed true, but at the same time a falsehood, when all the circumstancos come to be related. Pacolet was at the court of France on Friday night last, when this genius of that kingdom came thither in the shape of a post-boy, and cried out, that Mons was relieved, and the duke of Marlborough marched. Pacolet was much astonished at this account, and immediately changed his form, and flew to the neighbourhood of Mons, from whence he found the allies had really marched; and began to
* Lieut. Col. Graham came express with on trootint of the battle of Malplaquet, in a letter from the duke of Marlborough to Mr. Secretary Boyle.