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to find grace in the eyes of men of all degrees, the means to pursue this end, was the furnishing him with such real and seeming excellencies as each degree had its particular taste of. But those of the university, instead of employing their leisure hours in the pursuit of such acquisitions as would shorten their way to better fortune, enjoy those moments at certain houses in the town, or repair to others at very pretty distances out of it, where “they drink and forget their poverty, and remember their misery no more.' Persons of this indigent education are apt to pass upon themselves and others for modest, especially in the point of behaviour; though it is easy to prove, that this mistaken modesty not only arises from ignorance, but begets the appearance of its opposite pride. For he that is conscious of his own insufficiency to address his superiors without appearing ridiculous, is by that betrayed into the same neglect and indifference towards them which may bear the construction of pride. From this habit they begin to argue against the base submissive application from men of letters to men of fortune, and be grieved when they see, as Ben Jonson says,
“The learned pate Duck to the golden fool.”
though these are points of necessity and convenience, and to be esteemed submissions rather to the occasion than to the person. It was a fine answer of Diogenes, who being asked in mockery, why philosophers were the followers of rich men, and not rich men of philosophers, replied, ‘Because the one knew what they had need of, and the other did not.’ It certainly must be difficult to prove, that a man of busi. ness, or a profession, ought not to be what we call a gentleman, but yet very few of them are so. Upon this account they have little conversation with those who might do them most service, but upon such occasions only as application is made to them in their particular calling ; and for any thing they can do or say in such matters have their reward, and therefore rather receive than conser an obligation ; whereas he that adds his being agreeable to his being serviceable, is constantly in a capacity of obliging others. The character of a beau, is, I think, what the men that pretend to learning please themselves in ridiculing : and yet if we com. pare these persons as we see them in public, we shall find that the lettered coxcombs without good-breeding, give more just occasion to rail. lery, than the unlettered coxcombs with it; as our behaviour falls within the judgment of more persons than our conversation, and a failure in it is therefore more visible. What pleasant victories over the loud, the saucy, and the illiterate, would attend the men of learning and breeding : which qualifications could we but join, would beget such a confidence as, arising from good sense and good nature, would never let us oppress others or desert ourselves. In short, whether a man intends a life of business or pleasure, it is impossible to pursue either in an elegant manner, without the help of good-breeding. I shall conclude with the face at least of a regular discourse; and say, if
it is our behaviour and address upon all common occasions that prejudice people in our favour, or to our disadvantage, and the more substantial parts, as our learning and industry, cannot possibly appear but to few ; it is not justifiable to spend so much time in that which so very few are judges of, and utterly neglect that which falls within the censure of so many.
No. 95.] Tuesday, June 30, 1713.
—Aliena negotia centum– Hor. Lib. 2. Sat. vi. 33. A crowd of petitioners. Creech.
I FIND business increase upon me very much, as will appear by the following letters.
“Oxford, June 24, 1713.
‘SIR,-This day Mr. Oliver Purville, gentleman, property-man to the theatre royal, in the room of Mr. William Peer, deceased, arrived here in widow Bartlett's wagon. He is a humble member of the Little Club, and a passionate man, which makes him tell the disasters which he met with on his road hither, a little too incoherently to be rightly understood. By what I can gather from him, it seems that within three miles of this side Wickham, the party was set upon by highwaymen. Mr. Purville was supercargo to the great hamper, in which were the following goods. The chains of Jaffier and
Pierre; the crowns and sceptres of the posterity
of Banquo; the bull, bear, and horse of captain Otter; bones, skulls, pickaxes, and a bottle of brandy, and five muskets; four-score pieces of stock-gold and thirty pieces of tin-silver, hid in a green purse within a skull. These the robbers, by being put up safe, supposed to be true, and rid off with, not forgetting to take Mr. Purville's own current coin. They broke the ar. mour of Jacomo, which was cased up in the same hamper, and one of them put on the said Jacomo's mask to escape. They also did several extravagancies with no other purpose but to do mischief; they broke a mace for the lord mayor of London. They also destroyed the world, the sun, and moon, which lay loose in the wagon. Mrs. Bartlett is frightened out of her wits, for Purville says he has her servant's receipt for the world, and expects she shall make it good. Purville is resolved to take no lodgings in town, but makes, behind the scenes, a bedchamber of the hamper. His bed is that in which Desdemona is to die, and he uses the sheet (in which Mr. Johnson is tied up in a comedy,) for his own bod of nights. It is to be hoped the great ones will consider Mr. Purville's loss. One of the robbers has sent, by a country fellow, the stock-gold, and had the inpudence to write the following letter to Mr. Purville. “SIR,-If you had been an homest man, you would not have put bad money upon men who venture their lives for it. But we shall see you
when you come back. “ PHILIP SCOW RER."
“There are many things in this matter which employ the ablest men he , as whether an action will lie for the world among people who make the most of words? or whether it be adviseable to call that round ball the world, and if we do not call it so, whether we can have any remedy? the ablest lawyer here says there is no help; for if you call it the world, it will be answered, How could the world be in one shire, to wit, that of Buckingham; for the county must be named, and if you do not name it, we shall certainly be monsuited. I do not know whether I make myself understood; but you understand me right when you believe I am your most humble servant and faithful correspondent, 'THE PROMIPTER."
‘HoNotreD SIR,-Your character of Guardian makes it not only necessary, but becoming, to have several employed under you. And being myself ambitious of your service, I am now your humble petitioner to be admitted into a place I do not find yet disposed of I mean that of your lion-catcher. It was, sir, for want of such commission from your honour, very many lions have lately escaped. However, I made bold to distinguish a couple. One I found in a coffee-house—He was of the larger sort, looked fierce, and roared loud. I considered wherein he was dangerous; and accordingly expressed my displeasure against him, in such a manner upon his chaps, that now he is not able to show his teeth. The other was a small lion, who was slipping by me as I stood at the corner of an alsey—I smelt the creature presently, and catched at him, but he got off with the loss of a lock of hair only, which proved of a dark colour. This and the teeth above-mentioned I have by me, and design them both for a present to Button's coffee-house. “Besides this way of dealing with them, I have invented many curious traps, snares, and artificial baits, which, it is humbly conceived, cannot fail of clearing the kingdom of the whole species in a short time. ‘This is humbly submitted to your honour's consideration; and I am ready to appear before your honour, to answer to such questions as you in your great wisdom, shall think meet to ask, whenever you please to command your honour's most obedient humble servant, • HERCULES CRABTREE. * Midsummer-day. * N. B. I have an excellent nose.”
“Tom’s Coffee-house, in Cornhill, June 19, 1713.
* SIR,-Reading in your yesterday's paper a setter from Daniel Button, in recommendation of his coffee-house for polite conversation and freedom from the argument by the button, I make bold to send you this to assure you, that at this place there is as yet kept up as good a decorum in the debates of politics, trade, stocks, &c. as at Will's, or at any other coffee-house at your end of the town. In order, therefore, to preserve this house from the arbitrary way of forcing an assent, by seizing on the collar, neckcloth, or any other part of the body or dress, it would be of signal service if you would be pleased to intimate, that we, who frequent this place after Exchange-time, shall have the ho
would be a sufficient guard to us from all such petty practices, and also be a means of enabling the honest man, who keeps the house, to continue to serve us with the best bohea and green tea, and coffee, and will in a particular manner oblige, sir, your most humble servant,
- • JAMES DIAPER.
‘P. S. The room above stairs is the hand. somest in this part of the town, furnished with large pier glasses for persons to view themselves in, who have no business with any body else, and every way fit for the reception of fine gentlemen.'
‘‘SIR-I am a very great scholar, wear a fair wig, and have an immense number of books curiously bound and gilt. I excel in a singularity of diction and manners, and visit persons of the first quality. In fine, I have by me a great quantity of cockle-shells, which, however, does not defend me from the insults of another learned man, who neglects me in a most insupportable manner: for I have it from persons of undoubted veracity, that he presumed once to pass by my door, without waiting upon me. Whether this be consistent with the respect which we learned men ought to have for each other, I leave to your judgment, and am, sir, your affectionate friend, PIIILAUTUS."
‘Oxford, June 18, 1713.
‘FRIEND NEstor, I had always a great va. lue for thee, and have so still: but I must tell thee, that thou strangely affectest to be sage and solid: now pr’y thee let me observe to thee, that though it be common enough for people as they grow older to grow graver, yet it is not so common to become wiser. Verily to me thou seemest to keep strange company, and with a positive sufficiency, incident to old age, to follow too much thine own inventions. Thou dependest too much, likewise, upon thy correspondence here, and art apt to take people's words without consideration. But my present business with thce is to expostulate with thee about a late paper, occasioned, as thou say'st, by Jack Lizard's information, (my very good friend,) that we are to have a public act. “Now, I say, in that paper, there is nothing contended for which any man of common sense will deny; all that is there said, is, that no man or woman’s reputation ought to be blasted, i. e. nobody ought to have an ill character who does not deserve it. Very true; but here's this false consequence insinuated, that therefore nobody ought to hear of their faults; or, in other words, let any body do as much ill as he pleases, he ought not to be told of it. Art thou a patriot, Mr. Ironside, and wilt thou affirm, that arbitrary proceedings and oppression ought to be concealed or justified? Art thou a gentleman, and would'st thou have base, sordid, ignoble tricks connived at or tolerated Art thou a scholar, and would'st thou have learning and good manners discouraged Would'st thou have cringing servility, parasitical shuffling, fawning, and dishonest compliances, made the road to success? Art thou a Christian, and would'st
aour of seeing you here sometimes; for that
thou have all villanies within the law practised with impunity? Should they not be told of it? It is certain there are many things which, though there are no laws against them, yet ought not to be done; and in such cases there is no argument so likely to hinder their being done, as the fear of public shame for doing them. The two great reasons against an act are always, the saving of money, and hiding of roguery. “Here many things are omitted, which will be in the speech of the Terra-filius.” “And now, dear Old Iron, I am glad to hear that at these years thou hast gallantry enough left to have thoughts of setting up for a knighterrant, a tamer of monsters, and a defender of distrest damsels. “Adieu, old fellow, and let me give thce this advice at parting; Elen get thyself case-hardened; for though the very best steel may snap, yet old iron, you know, will rust. UMIBRA.
“Be just, and publish this.”
• Oxford, sat. 27, 1713.
“MR. IRoNSIDE,--This day arrived the vanguard of the theatrical army. Your friend Mr. George Powel, commanded the artillery, both celestial and terrestrial. The magazines of snow, lightning, and thunder, are safely laid up. We have had no disaster on the way, but that of breaking Cupid's bow by a jolt of the wagon: but they tell us they make them very well in Oxford. We all went in a body, and were shown your chambers in Lincoln college. The Terraefilius expects you down, and we of the theatre, design to bring you into town with all our guards. Those of Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, and the faithful retinue of Cato, shall meet you at Shotover. The ghost of Hamlet, and the statue which supped with Don John, both say, that though it be at noon-day, they will attend your entry. Every body expects you with great impatience. We shall be in very good order when all are come down. We have sent to town for a brick-wall which we forgot. The sea is to come by water. Your most humble servant, and faithful correspondent,
* TIIE PROMIPTER."
Let all be present at the games prepard; And joyful victors wait the just reward.
Dryden, There is no maxim in politics more indis. putable, than that a nation should have many honours in reserve for those who do national services. This raises emulation, cherishes public merit, and inspires every one with an ambi. tion which promotes the good of his country. The less expensive these honours are to the public, the more still do they turn to its advan. tage. The Romans abounded with these little honorary rewards, that without conferring wealth or riches, gave only place and distinction to the person who received them. An oaken garland to be worn on festivals and public ceremonies, was the glorious recompence of one who had
covered a citizen in battle. A soldier would not only venture his life for a mural crown, but think the most hazardous enterprise sufficiently repaid by so noble a donation. But among all honorary rewards which are neither dangerous nor detrimental to the donor, I remember none so remarkable as the titles which are bestowed by the emperor of China. These are never given to any subject, says monsieur le Comte, until the subject is dead. If he has pleased his emperor to the last, he is called in all public memorials by the title which the emperor confers on him after his death, and his children take their ranks accordingly. This keeps the ambitious subject in a perpetual dependence, making him always vigilant and active, and in every thing conformable to the will of his sovereign. There are no honorary rewards among us, which are more esteemed by the person who receives them, and are cheaper to the prince, than the giving of medals. But there is something in the modern manner of celebrating a great action in medals, which makes such a reward much less valuable than it was among the Romans. There is generally but one coin stamped on the occasion, which is made a present to the person who is celebrated on it. By this means his whole same is in his own custody. The applause that is bestowed upon him is too much limited and confined. He is in possession of an honour which the world perhaps knows nothing of. He may be a great man in his own family; his wife and children may see the monument of an exploit, which the public in a little time is a stranger to. The Romans took a quite different method in this particular. Their medals were their current money. When an action descrved to be recorded in coin, it was stamped perhaps upon a hundred thousand pieces of money like our shillings, or halfpence, which were issued out of the mint, and became current. This method published every noble action to advantage, and in a short space of time, spread through the whole Roman empire. The Romans were so careful to preserve the memory of great events upon their coins, that when any particular piece of money grew very scarce, it was often recoined by a succeeding emperor, many years after the death of the emperor to whose honour it was first struck. A friend of mine drew up a project of this kind during the late ministry, which would then have been put in execution had it not been too busy a time for thoughts of that nature. As this project has been very much talked of by the gentleman above-mentioned to men of the greatest genius, as well as quality: I am informed there is now a design on foot for executing the proposal which was then made, and that we shall have several farthings and halfpence charged on the reverse with many of the glorious particulars of her majesty's rcign. This is one of those arts of peace which may very well deserve to be cultivated, and which may be of great use to posterity. As I have in iny possession the copy of the paper above-mentioned, which was delivered to the late lord treasurer, I shall here give the public a sight of it; for I do not question but that the curious part of my readers will be very unuch pleased to see so much matter, and so many useful hints upon this subject, laid to. gether in so clear and concise a manner. “The English have not been so careful as other polite nations to preserve the memory of their great actions and events on medals. Their subjects are few, their mottoes and devices mean, and the coins themselves not numerous enough to spread among the people, or descend to posterity. “The French have outdone us in these particulars, and by the establishment of a society for the invention of proper inscriptions and designs, have the whole history of their present king in a regular series of medals. They have failed as well as the English, in coining so small a number of each kind, and those of such costly metals, that each species may be lost in a few ages, and is at present no where to be met with but in the cabinets of the curious. “The ancient Romans took the only effectual method to disperse and preserve their medals, by making them their current money. “Every thing glorious or useful, as well in peace as war, gave occasion to a different coin. Not only an expedition, victory, or triumph, but the exercise of a solemn devotion, the remission of a duty or tax, a new temple, seaport, or highway, were transmitted to posterity after this Inhanner. “The greatest variety of devices are on their copper money, which have most of the designs that are to be met with on the gold and silver, and several peculiar to that metal only. By this means they were dispersed into the remotest corners of the empire, came into the possession of the poor as well as rich, and were in no danger of perishing in the hands of those that might have meited down coins of a more valuable metal. “Add to all this, that the designs were invented by men of genius, and exccuted by a decree of senate. “It is therefore proposed, “I. That the English farthings and halfpence be re-coined upon the union of the two nations. ‘II. That they bear devices and inscriptions alluding to all the most remarkable parts of her majesty's reign. ‘III. That there be a society cstablished for the finding out of proper subjects, inscriptions, and devices. “IV. That no subject, inscription, or device, be stamped without the approbation of this so. ciety, nor if it be thought proper, without the authority of privy-council. “By this means, medals that are at present only a dead treasure, or mere curiosities, will
be of use in the ordinary commerce of life,
and at the same time, perpetuate the glories of her majesty's reign, reward the labours of her greatest subjects, keep alive in the people a grati. tude for public services, and excite the emulation of posterity. To these generous purposes nothing can so much contribute as medals of this kind, which are of undoubted authority, of necessary use and observation, not perishable by time, nor confined to any certain place; propertles not to be found in books, statues, pictures,
buildings, or any other monuments of illustrious actions. - [[G’
No. 97.] Thursday, July 2, 1713.
—Furorest post omnia perdere naulum.
• ‘Tis mad to lavish what their rapine left. Stepney.
‘SIR,--I was left a thousand pounds by an uncle, and being a man to my thinking very likely to get a rich widow, I laid aside all thoughts of making my fortune any other way, and without loss of time made my application to one who had buried her husband about a week before. By the help of some of her shefriends who were my relations, I got into her company when she would see no man besides myself and her lawyer, who is a little, rivelled, spindle-shanked gentleman, and married to boot, so that I had no reason to fear him. Upon my first seeing her, she said in conversation within my hearing, that she thought a pale complexion the most agreeable either in man or woman. Now you must know, sir, my face is as white as chalk. This gave me some encouragement; so that to mend the matter I bought a fine flaxen long wig that cost me thirty guineas, and found an opportunity of seeing her in it the next day. She then let drop some expressions about an agate snuffbox. I immediately took the hint, and bought one, being unwilling to omit any thing that might make me desirable in her eyes. I was betrayed after the same manner into a brocade waistcoat, a sword knot, a pair of silver fringed gloves, and a diamond ring. But whether out of fickleness or a design upon me, I cannot tell; but I found by her discourse, that what she liked one day, she disliked another : so that in six months' space I was forced to equip myself above a dozen times. As I told you before, I took her hints at a distance, for I could never find an opportunity of talking with her directly to the point. All this time, however, I was allowed the utmost familiarities with her lap-dog, and have played with it above an hour together, without receiving the least reprimand, and had many other marks of favour shown me, which I thought amounted to a promise. If she chanced to drop her fan, she received it from my hands with great civility. If she wanted any thing, I reached it for her. I have filled her tea-pot above a hundred times, and have afterwards received a dish of it from her own hands. Now, sir, do you judge, if after such encouragements, she was not obliged to marry me. I forgot to tell you that I kept a chair by the week, on purpose to carry me thither and back again. Not to trouble you with a long letter, in the space of about a twelvemonth I have run out of my whole thousand pounds upon her, having laid out the last fifty in a new suit of clothes, in which I was resolved to receive her final answer, which amounted to this, “that she was engaged to another; that she never dreamt I had any such thing in my head as marriage; and that she thought I had frequented her house only because I loved to be in com. pany with my relations.” This, you know, sir, is using a man like a fool, and so I told her; but the worst of it is, that I have spent my fortune to no purpose. All, therefore, that I desire of you is, to tell me whether, upon exhibiting the several particulars which I have related to you, I may not sue her for damages in a court of justice. Your advice in this particular will very much oblige your most humble admirer, * SIMON SOFTLY.”
Before I answer Mr. Softly's request, I find myself under a necessity of discussing two nice points. First of all, What it is, in cases of this nature, that amounts to an encouragement; and secondly, What it is that amounts to a promise? Each of which subjects requires more time to examine than I am at present master of Be. sides, I would have my friend Simon consider, whether he has any counsel that will undertake his cause, in forma pauperis, he having unluckily disabled himself, by his own account of the matter, from prosecuting his suit any other way. In answer, however, to Mr. Softly's request, I shall acquaint him with a method made use of by a young fellow in king Charles the Second's reign, whom I shall here call Silvio, who had long made love with much artifice and intrigue, to a rich widow, whose true name I shall conceal under that of Zelinda. Silvio, who was much more smitten with her fortune than her person, finding a twelve-month's application unsuccessful, was resolved to make a saving bar. gain of it; and since he could not get the widow's estate into his possession, to recover at least what he had laid out of his own in the pursuit of it. In order to this he presented her with a bill of costs, having particularised in it the several expenses he had been at in his long perplexed amour. Zelinda was so pleased with the humour of the fellow, and his frank way of dealing, that, upon the perusal of the bill, she sent him a purse of fifteen hundred guineas, by the right application of which, the lover, in less than a year, got a woman of a greater fortune than her he had missed. The several articles in the bill of costs I pretty well remember, though I have forgotten the particular sun charged to each article. Laid out in supernumerary full-bottom wigs. Fiddles for a serenade, with a speaking trumpet. Gilt paper in letters, and billet-doux, with perfumed wax. A ream of sonnets and love-verses, purchased at different times of Mr. Triplet at a crown a sheet. To Zelinda, two sticks of May-cherries. Last summer at several times, a bushel of peaches. Three porters whom I planted about her to watch her motions. The first who stood century near her door. The second who had his stand at the stables where her coach was put up. The third who kept watch at the corner of the street where Ned Courtall lives, who has since married her.
Two additional porters planted over her during the whole month of May. Five conjurers kept in pay all last winter. Spy-money to John Trott her footman, and Mrs. Sarah Wheedle, her companion. A new Conningsmark blade to fight Ned Courtall. To Zelinda's woman (Mrs. Abigail) an Indian fin, a dozen pair of white kid gloves, a piece of Flanders lace, and fifteen guineas in dry money. Secret-service money to Betty at the ring. Ditto to Mrs. Tape the mantua-maker. Loss of time. IP
No. 98.] Friday, July 3, 1713.
In Sese redit— Wirg. Georg, iv. 444.
He resumes himself.
THE first who undertook to instruct the world in single papers was Isaac Bickerstaff of famous memory: a man nearly related to the family of the Ironsides. We have often smoked a pipe together; for I was so much in his books, that at his decease he left me a silver standish, a pair of spectacles, and the lamp by which he used to write his lucubrations. The venerable Isaac was succeeded by a gentleman of the same family, very memorable for the shortness of his face and of his speeches. This ingenious author published his thoughts, and held his tongue with great applause, for two years together. I Nestor Ironside, have now for some time undertaken to fill the place of these my two renowned kinsmen and predecessors. For it is observed of every branch of our family, that we have all of us a wonderful inclination to give good advice, though it is remarked of some of us, that we are apt on this occasion, rather to give than take. However it be, I cannot but observe with some secret pride, that this way of writing diurnal papers has not succeeded for any space of time in the hands of any persons who are not of our line. I believe I speak within compass when I affirm that above a hundred different authors have endeavoured after our familyway of writing, some of which have been writers in other kinds of the greatest eminence in the kingdom ; but I do not know how it has happened, they have none of them hit upon the art. Their projects have always dropt after a few unsuccessful essays. It puts me in mind of a story which was lately told me by a pleasant friend of mine, who has a very fine hand on the violin. His maid servant seeing his instrument lying upon the table, and being sensible there was music in it, if she knew how to fetch it out, drew the bow over every part of the strings, and at last told her master she had tried the fiddle all over, but could not for her heart find where about the tune lay. But though the whole burden of such a paper is only fit to rest on the shoulders of a Bickerstaff or an Ironside; there are several who can acquit themselves of a single day's labour in it