FOOTNOTES:[169]No. 67.[170]See No. 62.[171]Printed in Swift's Works.[172]Thomas Betterton was born in Westminster about 1635, and was apprenticed to a bookseller. There are various accounts of how he came to go on to the stage, but in 1661 he joined Sir William Davenant's company at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Davenant's son afterwards gave Betterton a share in the management, and the company ("the Duke's") moved to Dorset Garden. In 1682 this company united with the King's company. Betterton lost all his savings in a speculation in 1692. Soon afterwards the patentee of the theatre quarrelled with the actors about their salaries, and Betterton and his friends obtained a licence to set up a theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Betterton does not seem to have been a good manager, and he was often in straitened circumstances. In April 1709 the benefit described in No. 1 of theTatlerwas arranged for his benefit; on that occasion Betterton, though over seventy, acted the youthful part of Valentine in "Love for Love." The performance brought Betterton £500. Writing on the occasion of his death, Steele paid a high tribute to the actor's powers in No. 167.It is interesting to note what Zachary Baggs, treasurer at Drury Lane, stated to be the salary paid to, and the amount made by benefits by, the principal performers. I quote from a rare quarto paper of two leaves, issued by Baggs in July 1709 upon the threatened secession of the actors. He says that during the season, October 1708 to June 1709, 135 days—£.s.d.Wilks was paid by salary16868By his benefit play90149Betterton was paid, by his salary £4 a week, and £1 a week for his wife, although she does not act112100By a benefit, besides what he got by high prices and guineas7645Estcourt was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play5186Cibber was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play51010Mills was paid £4 a week salary, and £1 for his wife, for little or nothing112100By his benefit play (not including hers)5814Mrs. Oldfield had £4 a week salary, making for fourteen weeks and a day56134She was also paid for costumes2107And by her benefit play she had6278In all£107738But Baggs adds that at each benefit performance the actor gained much by the special prices paid for seats, and estimating those extra profits at the benefits above mentioned at £880, he arrives at the conclusion that the six actors named earned £1957 in all during the season, though it was broken in upon by the death of Prince George, and brought to a premature close in June.[173]Villages near Oxford.[174]Epistle "To my honoured kinsman John Driden, of Chesterton, Esq.," 204:—"Two of a house few ages can afford,One to perform, another to record."[175]See No. 45.
[169]No. 67.
[169]No. 67.
[170]See No. 62.
[170]See No. 62.
[171]Printed in Swift's Works.
[171]Printed in Swift's Works.
[172]Thomas Betterton was born in Westminster about 1635, and was apprenticed to a bookseller. There are various accounts of how he came to go on to the stage, but in 1661 he joined Sir William Davenant's company at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Davenant's son afterwards gave Betterton a share in the management, and the company ("the Duke's") moved to Dorset Garden. In 1682 this company united with the King's company. Betterton lost all his savings in a speculation in 1692. Soon afterwards the patentee of the theatre quarrelled with the actors about their salaries, and Betterton and his friends obtained a licence to set up a theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Betterton does not seem to have been a good manager, and he was often in straitened circumstances. In April 1709 the benefit described in No. 1 of theTatlerwas arranged for his benefit; on that occasion Betterton, though over seventy, acted the youthful part of Valentine in "Love for Love." The performance brought Betterton £500. Writing on the occasion of his death, Steele paid a high tribute to the actor's powers in No. 167.It is interesting to note what Zachary Baggs, treasurer at Drury Lane, stated to be the salary paid to, and the amount made by benefits by, the principal performers. I quote from a rare quarto paper of two leaves, issued by Baggs in July 1709 upon the threatened secession of the actors. He says that during the season, October 1708 to June 1709, 135 days—£.s.d.Wilks was paid by salary16868By his benefit play90149Betterton was paid, by his salary £4 a week, and £1 a week for his wife, although she does not act112100By a benefit, besides what he got by high prices and guineas7645Estcourt was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play5186Cibber was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play51010Mills was paid £4 a week salary, and £1 for his wife, for little or nothing112100By his benefit play (not including hers)5814Mrs. Oldfield had £4 a week salary, making for fourteen weeks and a day56134She was also paid for costumes2107And by her benefit play she had6278In all£107738But Baggs adds that at each benefit performance the actor gained much by the special prices paid for seats, and estimating those extra profits at the benefits above mentioned at £880, he arrives at the conclusion that the six actors named earned £1957 in all during the season, though it was broken in upon by the death of Prince George, and brought to a premature close in June.
[172]Thomas Betterton was born in Westminster about 1635, and was apprenticed to a bookseller. There are various accounts of how he came to go on to the stage, but in 1661 he joined Sir William Davenant's company at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Davenant's son afterwards gave Betterton a share in the management, and the company ("the Duke's") moved to Dorset Garden. In 1682 this company united with the King's company. Betterton lost all his savings in a speculation in 1692. Soon afterwards the patentee of the theatre quarrelled with the actors about their salaries, and Betterton and his friends obtained a licence to set up a theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Betterton does not seem to have been a good manager, and he was often in straitened circumstances. In April 1709 the benefit described in No. 1 of theTatlerwas arranged for his benefit; on that occasion Betterton, though over seventy, acted the youthful part of Valentine in "Love for Love." The performance brought Betterton £500. Writing on the occasion of his death, Steele paid a high tribute to the actor's powers in No. 167.
It is interesting to note what Zachary Baggs, treasurer at Drury Lane, stated to be the salary paid to, and the amount made by benefits by, the principal performers. I quote from a rare quarto paper of two leaves, issued by Baggs in July 1709 upon the threatened secession of the actors. He says that during the season, October 1708 to June 1709, 135 days—
£.s.d.Wilks was paid by salary16868By his benefit play90149Betterton was paid, by his salary £4 a week, and £1 a week for his wife, although she does not act112100By a benefit, besides what he got by high prices and guineas7645Estcourt was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play5186Cibber was paid at £5 a week salary112100By his benefit play51010Mills was paid £4 a week salary, and £1 for his wife, for little or nothing112100By his benefit play (not including hers)5814Mrs. Oldfield had £4 a week salary, making for fourteen weeks and a day56134She was also paid for costumes2107And by her benefit play she had6278In all£107738
But Baggs adds that at each benefit performance the actor gained much by the special prices paid for seats, and estimating those extra profits at the benefits above mentioned at £880, he arrives at the conclusion that the six actors named earned £1957 in all during the season, though it was broken in upon by the death of Prince George, and brought to a premature close in June.
[173]Villages near Oxford.
[173]Villages near Oxford.
[174]Epistle "To my honoured kinsman John Driden, of Chesterton, Esq.," 204:—"Two of a house few ages can afford,One to perform, another to record."
[174]Epistle "To my honoured kinsman John Driden, of Chesterton, Esq.," 204:—
"Two of a house few ages can afford,One to perform, another to record."
"Two of a house few ages can afford,One to perform, another to record."
[175]See No. 45.
[175]See No. 45.
FromThursday, Sept. 22, toSaturday, Sept. 24, 1709.
I have taken upon me no very easy task in turning all my thoughts on panegyric, when most of the advices I receive tend to the quite contrary purpose; and I have few notices but such as regard follies and vices. But the properest way for me to treat, is to keep in general upon the passions and affections of men, with as little regard to particulars as the nature of the thing will admit. However, I think there is something so passionate in the circumstances of the lovers mentioned in the following letter, that I am willing to go out of my way to obey what is commanded in it.
"Sir,London, September 17."Your design of entertaining the town with the characters of the ancient heroes, as persons shall send an account to Mr. Morphew's, encourages me and others to beg of you, that in the meantime (if it is not contrary to the method you have proposed) you would give us one paper upon the subject of Pætus and his wife's death, when Nero sent him an order to kill himself: his wife setting him the example, died with thesewords, 'Pætus, it is not painful.' You must know the story, and your observations upon it will oblige,"Sir,Your most humble Servant."
"Sir,
London, September 17.
"Your design of entertaining the town with the characters of the ancient heroes, as persons shall send an account to Mr. Morphew's, encourages me and others to beg of you, that in the meantime (if it is not contrary to the method you have proposed) you would give us one paper upon the subject of Pætus and his wife's death, when Nero sent him an order to kill himself: his wife setting him the example, died with thesewords, 'Pætus, it is not painful.' You must know the story, and your observations upon it will oblige,
"Sir,
Your most humble Servant."
When the worst man that ever lived in the world had the highest station in it, human life was the object of his diversion; and he sent orders frequently, out of mere wantonness, to take off such-and-such, without so much as being angry with them. Nay, frequently his tyranny was so humorous, that he put men to death because he could not but approve of them. It came one day to his ear, that a certain married couple, Pætus and Arria, lived in a more happy tranquillity and mutual love than any other persons who were then in being. He listened with great attention to the account of their manner of spending their time together, of the constant pleasure they were to each other in all their words and actions; and found by exact information, that they were so treasonable as to be much more happy than his Imperial Majesty himself. Upon which he wrote Pætus the following billet:—
"Pætus, you are hereby desired to despatch yourself. I have heard a very good character of you; and therefore leave it to yourself, whether you will die by dagger, sword, or poison. If you outlive this order above an hour, I have given directions to put you to death by torture.Nero."
"Pætus, you are hereby desired to despatch yourself. I have heard a very good character of you; and therefore leave it to yourself, whether you will die by dagger, sword, or poison. If you outlive this order above an hour, I have given directions to put you to death by torture.
Nero."
This familiar epistle was delivered to his wife Arria, who opened it.
One must have a soul very well turned for love, pity, and indignation, to comprehend the tumult this unhappy lady was thrown into upon this occasion. The passionof love is no more to be understood by some tempers than a problem in a science by an ignorant man: but he that knows what affection is, will have, upon considering the condition of Arria, ten thousand thoughts flow in upon him, which the tongue was not formed to express. But the charming statue is now before my eyes, and Arria, in her unutterable sorrow, has more beauty than ever appeared in youth, in mirth, or in triumph. These are the great and noble incidents which speak the dignity of our nature, in our sufferings and distresses. Behold her tender affection for her husband sinks her features into a countenance which appears more helpless than that of an infant: but, again, her indignation shows in her visage and her bosom a resentment as strong as that of the bravest man. Long she stood in this agony of alternate rage and love; but at last composed herself for her dissolution, rather than survive her beloved Pætus. When he came into her presence, he found her with the tyrant's letter in one hand, and a dagger in the other. Upon his approach to her, she gave him the order; and at the same time, stabbing herself, "Pætus," said she, "it is not painful," and expired. Pætus immediately followed her example. The passion of these memorable lovers was such, that it eluded the rigour of their fortune, and baffled the force of a blow, which neither felt, because each received it for the sake of the other. The woman's part in this story is by much the more heroic, and has occasioned one of the best epigrams transmitted to us from antiquity.
When Arria pulled the dagger from her side,Thus to her consort spoke the illustrious bride:"The wound I gave myself I do not grieve,I die by that which Pætus must receive."[176]
When Arria pulled the dagger from her side,Thus to her consort spoke the illustrious bride:"The wound I gave myself I do not grieve,I die by that which Pætus must receive."[176]
The boy says, one in a black hat left the following letter:
"Friend,19th of the 7th month."Being of that part of Christians whom men call Quakers; and being a seeker of the right way, I was persuaded yesterday to hear one of your most noted teachers. The matter he treated was the necessity of well-living, grounded upon a future state. I was attentive; but the man did not appear in earnest. He read his discourse (notwithstanding thy rebukes) so heavily, and with so little air of being convinced himself, that I thought he would have slept, as I observed many of his hearers did. I came home unedified, and troubled in mind. I dipped into the Lamentations, and from thence turning to the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, I found these words: 'Woe be to the shepherds of Israel, that do feed themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the flock? Ye eat the fat, and ye clothe you with the wool: ye kill them that are fed; but ye feed not the flock. The diseased have ye not strengthened; neither have ye healed that which was sick; neither have ye bound up that which was broken; neither have ye brought again that which was driven away; neither have ye sought that which was lost; but with force and with cruelty have ye ruled them,' &c. Now I pray thee, friend, as thou art a man skilled in many things, tell me, who is meant by the diseased, the sick, the broken, the driven away, and the lost? and whether the prophecy in this chapter be accomplished, or yet to come to pass? And thou wilt oblige thy friend, though unknown."
"Friend,
19th of the 7th month.
"Being of that part of Christians whom men call Quakers; and being a seeker of the right way, I was persuaded yesterday to hear one of your most noted teachers. The matter he treated was the necessity of well-living, grounded upon a future state. I was attentive; but the man did not appear in earnest. He read his discourse (notwithstanding thy rebukes) so heavily, and with so little air of being convinced himself, that I thought he would have slept, as I observed many of his hearers did. I came home unedified, and troubled in mind. I dipped into the Lamentations, and from thence turning to the 34th chapter of Ezekiel, I found these words: 'Woe be to the shepherds of Israel, that do feed themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the flock? Ye eat the fat, and ye clothe you with the wool: ye kill them that are fed; but ye feed not the flock. The diseased have ye not strengthened; neither have ye healed that which was sick; neither have ye bound up that which was broken; neither have ye brought again that which was driven away; neither have ye sought that which was lost; but with force and with cruelty have ye ruled them,' &c. Now I pray thee, friend, as thou art a man skilled in many things, tell me, who is meant by the diseased, the sick, the broken, the driven away, and the lost? and whether the prophecy in this chapter be accomplished, or yet to come to pass? And thou wilt oblige thy friend, though unknown."
This matter is too sacred for this paper; but I can'tsee what injury it would do any clergyman, to have it in his eye, and believe, all that are taken from him by his want of industry, are to be demanded of him. I daresay, Favonius[177]has very few of these losses. Favonius, in the midst of a thousand impertinent assailants of the divine truths, is an undisturbed defender of them. He protects all under his care, by the clearness of his understanding, and the example of his life: he visits dying men with the air of a man who hoped for his own dissolution, and enforces in others a contempt of this life, by his own expectation of the next. His voice and behaviour are the lively images of a composed and well-governed zeal. None can leave him for the frivolous jargon uttered by the ordinary teachers among Dissenters, but such who cannot distinguish vociferation from eloquence, and argument from railing. He is so great a judge of mankind, and touches our passions with so superior a command, that he who deserts his congregation must be a stranger to the dictates of nature, as well as to those of grace.
But I must proceed to other matters, and resolve the questions of other inquirers; as in the following:
"Sir,Heddington, Sept. 19."Upon reading that part of theTatler, No. 69, where mention is made of a certain chapel-clerk, there arose a dispute, and that produced a wager, whether by the words chapel-clerk was meant a clergyman or a layman? By a clergyman, I mean one in holy orders. It was not that anybody in the company pretended to guess who the person was; but some asserted, that by Mr. Bickerstaff's words must be meant a clergyman only: others said, that those words might have been said of any clerk of a parish; and some of them more properly, of a layman. The wager is half-a-dozen bottles of wine; in which (if you please to determine it) your health, and all the family of the staffs, shall certainly be drunk; and you will singularly oblige another very considerable family. I mean that of"Your humble Servants,The Trencher-Caps."
"Sir,
Heddington, Sept. 19.
"Upon reading that part of theTatler, No. 69, where mention is made of a certain chapel-clerk, there arose a dispute, and that produced a wager, whether by the words chapel-clerk was meant a clergyman or a layman? By a clergyman, I mean one in holy orders. It was not that anybody in the company pretended to guess who the person was; but some asserted, that by Mr. Bickerstaff's words must be meant a clergyman only: others said, that those words might have been said of any clerk of a parish; and some of them more properly, of a layman. The wager is half-a-dozen bottles of wine; in which (if you please to determine it) your health, and all the family of the staffs, shall certainly be drunk; and you will singularly oblige another very considerable family. I mean that of
"Your humble Servants,
The Trencher-Caps."
It is very customary with us learned men, to find perplexities where no one else can see any. The honest gentlemen who wrote me this, are much at a loss to understand what I thought very plain; and in return, their epistle is so plain that I can't understand it. This, perhaps, is at first a little like nonsense; but I desire all persons to examine these writings with an eye to my being far gone in the occult sciences; and remember, that it is the privilege of the learned and the great to be understood when they please: for as a man of much business may be allowed to leave company when hepleases; so one of high learning may be above your capacity when he thinks fit. But without further speeches or fooling, I must inform my friends the Trencher-Caps in plain words, that I meant in the place they speak of, a drunken clerk of a church: and I will return their civility among my relations, and drink their healths as they do ours.
FOOTNOTES:[176]Martial, "Epig.," i. 14. See Pliny, "Epist.," iii. 18.[177]Dr. Smalridge; see Preface to theTatler, and No. 114. Smalridge was born in 1663 at Lichfield, the son of a dyer. In 1678 he was sent to Westminster by Ashmole, and in 1682 was elected to Christ Church, Oxford, where he became a tutor, and was associated with Aldrich and Atterbury against Obadiah Walker, the Popish Master of University College. In 1692 Smalridge became minister of Tothill Fields Chapel; in 1693 he was collated to a prebend at Lichfield; in 1700 he was made D.D.; and in 1708 he was appointed Lecturer at St. Dunstan's-in-the-West. In 1710 he presented Atterbury to the Upper House of Convocation; in 1711 he became Canon of Christ Church and Dean of Carlisle; in 1713 Dean of Christ Church, and in 1714 Bishop of Bristol. He died in 1719, at Christ Church. Though a Tory, he was not a violent politician, and both Addison and Steele were his friends. Addison, writing to Swift, October 1, 1718, says, "The greatest pleasure I have met with for some months is the conversation of my old friend Dr. Smalridge, who, since the death of the excellent friend you mention, is to me the most candid and agreeable of all bishops."
[176]Martial, "Epig.," i. 14. See Pliny, "Epist.," iii. 18.
[176]Martial, "Epig.," i. 14. See Pliny, "Epist.," iii. 18.
[177]Dr. Smalridge; see Preface to theTatler, and No. 114. Smalridge was born in 1663 at Lichfield, the son of a dyer. In 1678 he was sent to Westminster by Ashmole, and in 1682 was elected to Christ Church, Oxford, where he became a tutor, and was associated with Aldrich and Atterbury against Obadiah Walker, the Popish Master of University College. In 1692 Smalridge became minister of Tothill Fields Chapel; in 1693 he was collated to a prebend at Lichfield; in 1700 he was made D.D.; and in 1708 he was appointed Lecturer at St. Dunstan's-in-the-West. In 1710 he presented Atterbury to the Upper House of Convocation; in 1711 he became Canon of Christ Church and Dean of Carlisle; in 1713 Dean of Christ Church, and in 1714 Bishop of Bristol. He died in 1719, at Christ Church. Though a Tory, he was not a violent politician, and both Addison and Steele were his friends. Addison, writing to Swift, October 1, 1718, says, "The greatest pleasure I have met with for some months is the conversation of my old friend Dr. Smalridge, who, since the death of the excellent friend you mention, is to me the most candid and agreeable of all bishops."
[177]Dr. Smalridge; see Preface to theTatler, and No. 114. Smalridge was born in 1663 at Lichfield, the son of a dyer. In 1678 he was sent to Westminster by Ashmole, and in 1682 was elected to Christ Church, Oxford, where he became a tutor, and was associated with Aldrich and Atterbury against Obadiah Walker, the Popish Master of University College. In 1692 Smalridge became minister of Tothill Fields Chapel; in 1693 he was collated to a prebend at Lichfield; in 1700 he was made D.D.; and in 1708 he was appointed Lecturer at St. Dunstan's-in-the-West. In 1710 he presented Atterbury to the Upper House of Convocation; in 1711 he became Canon of Christ Church and Dean of Carlisle; in 1713 Dean of Christ Church, and in 1714 Bishop of Bristol. He died in 1719, at Christ Church. Though a Tory, he was not a violent politician, and both Addison and Steele were his friends. Addison, writing to Swift, October 1, 1718, says, "The greatest pleasure I have met with for some months is the conversation of my old friend Dr. Smalridge, who, since the death of the excellent friend you mention, is to me the most candid and agreeable of all bishops."
FromSaturday, Sept. 24, toTuesday, Sept. 27, 1709.
I cannot express the confusion the following letter gave me, which I received by Sir Thomas this morning. There cannot be a greater surprise, than to meet with sudden enmity in the midst of a familiar and friendly correspondence; which is my case in relation to this epistle: and I have no way to purge myself to the world, but publishing both it and my answer.
"Mr.Bickerstaff,"You are a very impudent fellow to put me[178]into theTatler. Rot you, sir, I have more wit than you; and rot me, I have more money than most fools I have bubbled. All persons of quality admire me; though, rot me, if I value a Blue Garter any more than I do a blue apron. Everybody knows I am brave; therefore have a care how you provoke"Monoculus."
"Mr.Bickerstaff,
"You are a very impudent fellow to put me[178]into theTatler. Rot you, sir, I have more wit than you; and rot me, I have more money than most fools I have bubbled. All persons of quality admire me; though, rot me, if I value a Blue Garter any more than I do a blue apron. Everybody knows I am brave; therefore have a care how you provoke
"Monoculus."
The Answer.
"Sir,"Did I not very well know your hand, as well by the spelling as the character, I should not have believed yours of to-day had come from you. But when all men are acquainted, that I have had all my intelligence from you relating to your fraternity, let them pronounce who is the more impudent.[179]I confess I have had a peculiar tenderness for you, by reason of that luxuriant eloquence of which you are master, and have treated you accordingly; for which you have turned your florid violence against your ancient friend and schoolfellow. You know in your own conscience, you gave me leave to touch upon your vein of speaking, provided I hid your other talents; in which I believed you sincere, because, like the ancient Sinon,[180]you have before now suffered yourself to be defaced to carry on a plot. Besides, sir, 'Rot me,' language for a person of your present station. Fie, fie, I am really ashamed for you, and I shall no more depend upon your intelligence. Keep your temper, wash your face, and go to bed."Isaac Bickerstaff."
"Sir,
"Did I not very well know your hand, as well by the spelling as the character, I should not have believed yours of to-day had come from you. But when all men are acquainted, that I have had all my intelligence from you relating to your fraternity, let them pronounce who is the more impudent.[179]I confess I have had a peculiar tenderness for you, by reason of that luxuriant eloquence of which you are master, and have treated you accordingly; for which you have turned your florid violence against your ancient friend and schoolfellow. You know in your own conscience, you gave me leave to touch upon your vein of speaking, provided I hid your other talents; in which I believed you sincere, because, like the ancient Sinon,[180]you have before now suffered yourself to be defaced to carry on a plot. Besides, sir, 'Rot me,' language for a person of your present station. Fie, fie, I am really ashamed for you, and I shall no more depend upon your intelligence. Keep your temper, wash your face, and go to bed.
"Isaac Bickerstaff."
For aught I know, this fellow may have confused the description of the pack, on purpose to ensnare the game, while I have all along believed he was destroying them as well as myself. But because they pretend to bark more than ordinary, I shall let them see, that I will not throw away the whip, until they know better how to behave themselves. But I must not at the same time omit the praises of their economy expressed in the following advice:
"Mr.Bickerstaff,[181]Sept. 17."Though your thoughts are at present employed upon the tables of fame, and marshalling your illustrious dead, it is hoped the living may not be neglected, nor defrauded of their just honours: and since you have begun to publish to the world the great sagacity and vigilance of the knights of the industry, it will be expected you should proceed to do justice to all the societies of them you can be informed of, especially since their own great industry covers their actions as much as possible from that public notice which is their due."Paullum sepultæ distat inertiæCelata virtus.[182]Hidden vice, and concealed virtue, are much alike."Be pleased therefore to let the following memoirs have a place in their history."In a certain part of the town, famous for the freshest oysters and the plainest English, there is a house, or rather a college, sacred to hospitality, and the industrious arts. At the entrance is hieroglyphically drawn, a cavalier contending with a monster, with jaws expanded, just ready to devour him.[183]"Hither the brethren of the industry resort; but to avoid ostentation, they wear no habits of distinction, and perform their exercises with as little noise and show as possible. Here are no undergraduates, but each is a master of his art. They are distributed according to their various talents, and detached abroad in parties, to divide the labours of the day. They have dogs as well nosed and as fleet as any, and no sportsmen show greater activity. Some beat for the game, some hunt it, others come in at the death; and my honest landlord makes very good venison sauce, and eats his share of the dinner."I would fain pursue my metaphors; but a venerable person who stands by me, and waits to bring you this letter, and whom, by a certain benevolence in his look, I suspect to be Pacolet, reproves me, and obliges me to write in plainer terms; that the society had fixed their eyes on a gay young gentleman who has lately succeeded to a title and an estate; the latter of which they judged would be very convenient for them. Therefore, after several attempts to get into his acquaintance, my landlord finds an opportunity to make his court to a friend of the young spark's, in the following manner:"'Sir, as I take you to be a lover of ingenuity and plain-dealing, I shall speak very freely to you. In few words then, you are acquainted with Sir Liberal Brisk. Providence has for our emolument sent him a fair estate, for men are not born for themselves. Therefore, if you'll bring him to my house, we will take care of him, and you shall have half the profits. There's Ace and Cutter will do his business to a hair. You'll tell me, perhaps, he's your friend: I grant it, and it is for that I propose it, to prevent his falling into ill hands."'We'll carve him like a dish fit for the gods,Not hew him like a carcass fit for hounds.[184]"'In short, there are to my certain knowledge a hundred mouths open for him. Now if we can secure him to ourselves, we shall disappoint all those rascals that don't deserve him. Nay, you need not start at it, sir, it is for your own advantage. Besides, Partridge has cast me his nativity, and I find by certain destiny, his oaks must be felled.'"The gentleman to whom this honest proposal was made, made little answer; but said he would consider of it, and immediately took coach to find out the young baronet, and told him all that had passed, together with the new salvo to satisfy a man's conscience in sacrificing his friend. Sir Brisk was fired, swore a dozen oaths, drew his sword, put it up again, called for his man, beat him, and bade him fetch a coach. His friend asked him, what he designed, and whither he was going? He answered, to find out the villains and fight them. To which his friend agreed, and promised to be his second, on condition he would first divide his estate to them, and reserve only a proportion to himself, that so he might have the justice of fighting his equals. His next resolution was to play with them, and let them see he was not the bubble they took him for. But he soon quitted that, and resolved at last to tell Bickerstaff of them, and get them enrolled in the order of the industry, with this caution to all young landed knights and squires, that whenever they are drawn to play, they would consider it as calling them down to a sentence already pronounced upon them, and think of the sound of those words, 'His oaks must be felled.'[185]I am,"Sir,Your faithful, humble Servant,Will. Trusty.
"Mr.Bickerstaff,[181]
Sept. 17.
"Though your thoughts are at present employed upon the tables of fame, and marshalling your illustrious dead, it is hoped the living may not be neglected, nor defrauded of their just honours: and since you have begun to publish to the world the great sagacity and vigilance of the knights of the industry, it will be expected you should proceed to do justice to all the societies of them you can be informed of, especially since their own great industry covers their actions as much as possible from that public notice which is their due.
"Paullum sepultæ distat inertiæCelata virtus.[182]
"Paullum sepultæ distat inertiæCelata virtus.[182]
Hidden vice, and concealed virtue, are much alike.
"Be pleased therefore to let the following memoirs have a place in their history.
"In a certain part of the town, famous for the freshest oysters and the plainest English, there is a house, or rather a college, sacred to hospitality, and the industrious arts. At the entrance is hieroglyphically drawn, a cavalier contending with a monster, with jaws expanded, just ready to devour him.[183]
"Hither the brethren of the industry resort; but to avoid ostentation, they wear no habits of distinction, and perform their exercises with as little noise and show as possible. Here are no undergraduates, but each is a master of his art. They are distributed according to their various talents, and detached abroad in parties, to divide the labours of the day. They have dogs as well nosed and as fleet as any, and no sportsmen show greater activity. Some beat for the game, some hunt it, others come in at the death; and my honest landlord makes very good venison sauce, and eats his share of the dinner.
"I would fain pursue my metaphors; but a venerable person who stands by me, and waits to bring you this letter, and whom, by a certain benevolence in his look, I suspect to be Pacolet, reproves me, and obliges me to write in plainer terms; that the society had fixed their eyes on a gay young gentleman who has lately succeeded to a title and an estate; the latter of which they judged would be very convenient for them. Therefore, after several attempts to get into his acquaintance, my landlord finds an opportunity to make his court to a friend of the young spark's, in the following manner:
"'Sir, as I take you to be a lover of ingenuity and plain-dealing, I shall speak very freely to you. In few words then, you are acquainted with Sir Liberal Brisk. Providence has for our emolument sent him a fair estate, for men are not born for themselves. Therefore, if you'll bring him to my house, we will take care of him, and you shall have half the profits. There's Ace and Cutter will do his business to a hair. You'll tell me, perhaps, he's your friend: I grant it, and it is for that I propose it, to prevent his falling into ill hands.
"'We'll carve him like a dish fit for the gods,Not hew him like a carcass fit for hounds.[184]
"'We'll carve him like a dish fit for the gods,Not hew him like a carcass fit for hounds.[184]
"'In short, there are to my certain knowledge a hundred mouths open for him. Now if we can secure him to ourselves, we shall disappoint all those rascals that don't deserve him. Nay, you need not start at it, sir, it is for your own advantage. Besides, Partridge has cast me his nativity, and I find by certain destiny, his oaks must be felled.'
"The gentleman to whom this honest proposal was made, made little answer; but said he would consider of it, and immediately took coach to find out the young baronet, and told him all that had passed, together with the new salvo to satisfy a man's conscience in sacrificing his friend. Sir Brisk was fired, swore a dozen oaths, drew his sword, put it up again, called for his man, beat him, and bade him fetch a coach. His friend asked him, what he designed, and whither he was going? He answered, to find out the villains and fight them. To which his friend agreed, and promised to be his second, on condition he would first divide his estate to them, and reserve only a proportion to himself, that so he might have the justice of fighting his equals. His next resolution was to play with them, and let them see he was not the bubble they took him for. But he soon quitted that, and resolved at last to tell Bickerstaff of them, and get them enrolled in the order of the industry, with this caution to all young landed knights and squires, that whenever they are drawn to play, they would consider it as calling them down to a sentence already pronounced upon them, and think of the sound of those words, 'His oaks must be felled.'[185]I am,
"Sir,
Your faithful, humble Servant,
Will. Trusty.
It is wonderful to consider to what a pitch of confidence this world is arrived: do people believe I am made up of patience? I have long told them, that I will suffer no enormity to pass, without I have an understanding with the offenders by way of hush-money; and yet the candidates at Queenhithe send all the town coals but me. All the public papers have had this advertisement:
London, Sept. 22, 1709.To the Electors of an Alderman for the Ward of Queenhithe.[186]"Whereas an evil and pernicious custom has of late very much prevailed at the election of aldermen for this city, by treating at taverns and alehouses, thereby engaging many unwarily to give their votes: which practice appearing to Sir Arthur de Bradly to be of dangerous consequence to the freedom of elections, he hath avoided the excess thereof. Nevertheless, to make an acknowledgment to this ward for their intended favour, he hath deposited in the hands of Mr.——, one of the present Common Council, four hundred and fifty pounds, to be disposed of as follows, provided the said Sir Arthur de Bradly be the alderman, viz."All such that shall poll for Sir Arthur de Bradly, shall have one chaldron of good coals gratis."And half a chaldron to every one that shall not poll against him."And the remainder to be laid out in a clock, dial, or otherwise, as the Common Council-men of the said ward shall think fit."And if any person shall refuse to take the said coals to himself, he may assign the same to any poor electors in the ward."I do acknowledge to have received the said four hundred and fifty pounds, for the purposes above mentioned, for which I have given a receipt.Witness,J——s H——t,J——y G——h,J——n M——y.[187]E——d D——s."N.B.—Whereas several persons have already engaged to poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, it is hereby further declared, that every such person as doth poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, and doth also poll for Sir Arthur de Bradly, shall each of them receive a chaldron of coals gratis, on the proviso above mentioned."
London, Sept. 22, 1709.
"Whereas an evil and pernicious custom has of late very much prevailed at the election of aldermen for this city, by treating at taverns and alehouses, thereby engaging many unwarily to give their votes: which practice appearing to Sir Arthur de Bradly to be of dangerous consequence to the freedom of elections, he hath avoided the excess thereof. Nevertheless, to make an acknowledgment to this ward for their intended favour, he hath deposited in the hands of Mr.——, one of the present Common Council, four hundred and fifty pounds, to be disposed of as follows, provided the said Sir Arthur de Bradly be the alderman, viz.
"All such that shall poll for Sir Arthur de Bradly, shall have one chaldron of good coals gratis.
"And half a chaldron to every one that shall not poll against him.
"And the remainder to be laid out in a clock, dial, or otherwise, as the Common Council-men of the said ward shall think fit.
"And if any person shall refuse to take the said coals to himself, he may assign the same to any poor electors in the ward.
"I do acknowledge to have received the said four hundred and fifty pounds, for the purposes above mentioned, for which I have given a receipt.
Witness,J——s H——t,J——y G——h,J——n M——y.[187]E——d D——s.
"N.B.—Whereas several persons have already engaged to poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, it is hereby further declared, that every such person as doth poll for Sir Humphry Greenhat, and doth also poll for Sir Arthur de Bradly, shall each of them receive a chaldron of coals gratis, on the proviso above mentioned."
This is certainly the most plain dealing that ever was used, except that the just quantity which an elector may drink without excess, and the difference between an acknowledgment and a bribe, wants explanation. Another difficulty with me is, how a man who is bargained with for a chaldron of coals for his vote, shall be said to have that chaldron gratis? If my kinsman Greenhat had given me the least intimation of his design, I should have prevented his publishing nonsense; nor should any knight in England have put my relation at the bottom of the leaf as a postscript, when after all it appears Greenhat has been the more popular man. There is here such open contradiction, and clumsy art to palliate the matter, and prove to the people, that the freedom of election is safer when laid out in coals, than strong drink, that I can turn this only to a religious use, and admire the dispensation of things; for if these fellows were as wise as they are rich, where would soon be our liberty? This reminds me of a memorable speech[188]made to a city almost in the same latitude with Westminster. "When I think of your wisdom, I admire your wealth; when I think of your wealth, I admire your wisdom."
FOOTNOTES:[178]Sir Humphry Monoux. See No. 36.[179]"As for the satirical part of these writings, those against the gentlemen who profess gaming are the most licentious: but the main of them I take to come from losing gamesters, as invectives against the fortunate; for in very many of them I was very little else but the transcriber. If any have been more particularly marked at, such persons may impute it to their own behaviour before they were touched upon, in publicly speaking their resentment against the author, and professing they would support any man who should insult him." (No. 271.)[180]The story of the capture of Troy through Sinon's treachery, by help of a wooden horse, is told in the second book of the "Æneid." Sinon, as Dryden puts it, was"Taken, to take—who made himself their prey,T'impose on their belief, and Troy betray."In the original editions "Sinon" is misprinted "Simon."[181]This letter was by John Hughes.[182]Horace, 4 Od., ix. 29.[183]There was a public-house called the George and Dragon at Billingsgate.[184]"Julius Cæsar," act ii. sc. 1 ("Let's carve," &c.).[185]Cf.the story of Mr. Thomas Charlton in the "Memoirs of Gamesters," &c., p. 150. Tickell alludes to this letter in his verses to theSpectator, printed in No. 532:—"From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,And Britain owes her rescued oaks to thee."[186]The original handbill in the British Museum (Harl. MSS., Badford's Coll. 5996) shows that the real names of the two candidates, called in theTatlerSir Arthur de Bradly and Sir Humphry Greenhat, were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Sir Benjamin Green. The name of Crowley's agent, and those of his witnesses, are only marked by Steele with their initial and final letters. In every other respect, dates not excepted, the papers are word for word the same. The candidates were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Deputy Gough on one side; and Sir Benj. Green and Deputy Tooley on the other. On Sept. 23, 1709, the majority was declared for the two latter without a poll. (Post Boy, Sept. 22-24, 1709.)[187]John Midgley. The witnesses were James Hallet, Jeremy Gough, and Edward Davis (Harl. MSS., 5996).[188]By Queen Elizabeth.
[178]Sir Humphry Monoux. See No. 36.
[178]Sir Humphry Monoux. See No. 36.
[179]"As for the satirical part of these writings, those against the gentlemen who profess gaming are the most licentious: but the main of them I take to come from losing gamesters, as invectives against the fortunate; for in very many of them I was very little else but the transcriber. If any have been more particularly marked at, such persons may impute it to their own behaviour before they were touched upon, in publicly speaking their resentment against the author, and professing they would support any man who should insult him." (No. 271.)
[179]"As for the satirical part of these writings, those against the gentlemen who profess gaming are the most licentious: but the main of them I take to come from losing gamesters, as invectives against the fortunate; for in very many of them I was very little else but the transcriber. If any have been more particularly marked at, such persons may impute it to their own behaviour before they were touched upon, in publicly speaking their resentment against the author, and professing they would support any man who should insult him." (No. 271.)
[180]The story of the capture of Troy through Sinon's treachery, by help of a wooden horse, is told in the second book of the "Æneid." Sinon, as Dryden puts it, was"Taken, to take—who made himself their prey,T'impose on their belief, and Troy betray."In the original editions "Sinon" is misprinted "Simon."
[180]The story of the capture of Troy through Sinon's treachery, by help of a wooden horse, is told in the second book of the "Æneid." Sinon, as Dryden puts it, was
"Taken, to take—who made himself their prey,T'impose on their belief, and Troy betray."
"Taken, to take—who made himself their prey,T'impose on their belief, and Troy betray."
In the original editions "Sinon" is misprinted "Simon."
[181]This letter was by John Hughes.
[181]This letter was by John Hughes.
[182]Horace, 4 Od., ix. 29.
[182]Horace, 4 Od., ix. 29.
[183]There was a public-house called the George and Dragon at Billingsgate.
[183]There was a public-house called the George and Dragon at Billingsgate.
[184]"Julius Cæsar," act ii. sc. 1 ("Let's carve," &c.).
[184]"Julius Cæsar," act ii. sc. 1 ("Let's carve," &c.).
[185]Cf.the story of Mr. Thomas Charlton in the "Memoirs of Gamesters," &c., p. 150. Tickell alludes to this letter in his verses to theSpectator, printed in No. 532:—"From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,And Britain owes her rescued oaks to thee."
[185]Cf.the story of Mr. Thomas Charlton in the "Memoirs of Gamesters," &c., p. 150. Tickell alludes to this letter in his verses to theSpectator, printed in No. 532:—
"From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,And Britain owes her rescued oaks to thee."
"From felon gamesters the raw squire is free,And Britain owes her rescued oaks to thee."
[186]The original handbill in the British Museum (Harl. MSS., Badford's Coll. 5996) shows that the real names of the two candidates, called in theTatlerSir Arthur de Bradly and Sir Humphry Greenhat, were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Sir Benjamin Green. The name of Crowley's agent, and those of his witnesses, are only marked by Steele with their initial and final letters. In every other respect, dates not excepted, the papers are word for word the same. The candidates were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Deputy Gough on one side; and Sir Benj. Green and Deputy Tooley on the other. On Sept. 23, 1709, the majority was declared for the two latter without a poll. (Post Boy, Sept. 22-24, 1709.)
[186]The original handbill in the British Museum (Harl. MSS., Badford's Coll. 5996) shows that the real names of the two candidates, called in theTatlerSir Arthur de Bradly and Sir Humphry Greenhat, were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Sir Benjamin Green. The name of Crowley's agent, and those of his witnesses, are only marked by Steele with their initial and final letters. In every other respect, dates not excepted, the papers are word for word the same. The candidates were Sir Ambrose Crowley and Deputy Gough on one side; and Sir Benj. Green and Deputy Tooley on the other. On Sept. 23, 1709, the majority was declared for the two latter without a poll. (Post Boy, Sept. 22-24, 1709.)
[187]John Midgley. The witnesses were James Hallet, Jeremy Gough, and Edward Davis (Harl. MSS., 5996).
[187]John Midgley. The witnesses were James Hallet, Jeremy Gough, and Edward Davis (Harl. MSS., 5996).
[188]By Queen Elizabeth.
[188]By Queen Elizabeth.
FromTuesday, Sept. 27, toThursday, Sept. 29, 1709.
The writer of the following letter has made a use of me, which I did not foresee I should fall into. But the gentleman having assured me, that he has a most tender passion for the fair one, and speaking his intentions with so much sincerity, I am willing to let them contrive an interview by my means.
"Sir,"I earnestly entreat you to publish the enclosed; for I have no other way to come at her, or return to myself. A. L."P.S.—Mr. Bickerstaff,"You can't imagine how handsome she is: the superscription of my letter will make her recollect the man that gazed at her. Pray put it in."
"Sir,
"I earnestly entreat you to publish the enclosed; for I have no other way to come at her, or return to myself. A. L.
"P.S.—Mr. Bickerstaff,
"You can't imagine how handsome she is: the superscription of my letter will make her recollect the man that gazed at her. Pray put it in."
I can assure the young lady, the gentleman is in the true trammels of love: how else would he make his superscription so very much longer than his billet? He superscribes:
"To the younger of the two ladies in mourning (who sat in the hindmost seat of the middle box at Mr. Winstanley's water-works,[189]on Tuesday was fortnight, and had with them a brother, or some acquaintance that was as careless of that pretty creature as a brother; which seeming brother ushered them to their coach), with great respect. Present.
"To the younger of the two ladies in mourning (who sat in the hindmost seat of the middle box at Mr. Winstanley's water-works,[189]on Tuesday was fortnight, and had with them a brother, or some acquaintance that was as careless of that pretty creature as a brother; which seeming brother ushered them to their coach), with great respect. Present.
"Madam,
"I have a very good estate, and wish myself your husband. Let me know by this way where you live, for I shall be miserable till we live together.Alexander Landlord."
"I have a very good estate, and wish myself your husband. Let me know by this way where you live, for I shall be miserable till we live together.
Alexander Landlord."
This is the modern way of bargain and sale; a certain shorthand writing, in which laconic elder brothers arevery successful. All my fear is, that the nymph's elder sister is unmarried. If she is, we are undone: but perhaps the careless fellow was her husband; and then she will let us go on.
The following letter has given me a new sense of the nature of my writings. I have the deepest regard to conviction, and shall never act against it. However, I do not yet understand what good man he thinks I have injured: but his epistle has such weight in it, that I shall always have respect for his admonition, and desire the continuance of it. I am not conscious that I have spoken any faults a man may not mend if he pleases.
"Mr.Bickerstaff,Sept. 25."When I read your paper of Thursday,[190]I was surprised to find mine of the 13th inserted at large; I never intended myself or you a second trouble of this kind, believing I had sufficiently pointed out the man you had injured, and that by this time you were convinced that silence would be the best answer; but finding your reflections are such as naturally call for a reply, I take this way of doing it; and, in the first place, return you thanks for the compliment made me of my seeming sense and worth. I do assure you, I shall always endeavour to convince mankind of the latter, though I have no pretence to the former. But to come a little nearer, I observe you put yourself under a very severe restriction, even the laying down theTatlerfor ever, if I can give you an instance, 'wherein you have injured any good man, or pointed at anything which is not the true object of raillery.'"I must confess, Mr. Bickerstaff, if the making a man guilty of vices that would shame the gallows, be the best methods to point at the true object of raillery, I have until this time been very ignorant; but if it be so, I will venture to assert one thing, and lay it down as a maxim, even to the Staffian race, viz., that that method of pointing ought no more to be pursued, than those people ought to cut your throat who suffer by it, because I take both to be murder, and the law is not in every private man's hands to execute: but indeed, sir, were you the only person would suffer by theTatler'sdiscontinuance, I have malice enough to punish you in the manner you prescribe; but I am not so great an enemy to the town or my own pleasures, as to wish it; nor that you would lay aside lashing the reigning vices, so long as you keep to the true spirit of satire, without descending to rake into characters below its dignity; for as you well observe, 'there is something very terrible in unjustly attacking men in a way that may prejudice their honour or fortune;' and indeed, where crimes are enormous, the delinquent deserves little pity, yet the reporter may deserve less: and here I am naturally led to that celebrated author of 'The Whole Duty of Man,' who hath set this matter in a true light in his treatise of 'The Government of the Tongue;'[191]where, speaking of uncharitable truths, he says, a discovery of this kind serves not to reclaim, but enrage the offender, and precipitate him into further degrees of ill. Modesty and fear of shame is one of those natural restraints, which the wisdom of heaven has put upon mankind; and he that once stumbles, may yet by a check of that bridle recover again: but when by a public detection he is fallen under that infamy he feared, he will then be apt to discard all caution, and to think he owes himself the utmost pleasures of vice, as the price of his reputation. Nay, perhaps he advances further, and sets up for a reversed sort of fame, by being eminently wicked, and he who before was but a clandestine disciple, becomes a doctor of impiety, &c. This sort of reasoning, sir, most certainly induced our wise legislators very lately to repeal that law which put the stamp of infamy in the face of felons; therefore you had better give an act of oblivion to your delinquents, at least for transportation, than continue to mark them in so notorious a manner. I cannot but applaud your designed attempt of raising merit from obscurity, celebrating virtue in distress, and attacking vice in another method, by setting innocence in a proper light. Your pursuing these noble themes, will make a greater advance to the reformation you seem to aim at, than the method you have hitherto taken, by putting mankind beyond the power of retrieving themselves, or indeed to think it possible. But if after all your endeavours in this new way, there should then remain any hardened impenitents, you must even give them up to the rigour of the law, as delinquents not within the benefit of their clergy. Pardon me, good Mr. Bickerstaff, for the tediousness of this epistle, and believe it is not from any self-conviction I have taken up so much of your time, or my own; but supposing you mean all your lucubrations should tend to the good of mankind, I may the easier hope your pardon, being,"Sir,Yours, &c."
"Mr.Bickerstaff,
Sept. 25.
"When I read your paper of Thursday,[190]I was surprised to find mine of the 13th inserted at large; I never intended myself or you a second trouble of this kind, believing I had sufficiently pointed out the man you had injured, and that by this time you were convinced that silence would be the best answer; but finding your reflections are such as naturally call for a reply, I take this way of doing it; and, in the first place, return you thanks for the compliment made me of my seeming sense and worth. I do assure you, I shall always endeavour to convince mankind of the latter, though I have no pretence to the former. But to come a little nearer, I observe you put yourself under a very severe restriction, even the laying down theTatlerfor ever, if I can give you an instance, 'wherein you have injured any good man, or pointed at anything which is not the true object of raillery.'
"I must confess, Mr. Bickerstaff, if the making a man guilty of vices that would shame the gallows, be the best methods to point at the true object of raillery, I have until this time been very ignorant; but if it be so, I will venture to assert one thing, and lay it down as a maxim, even to the Staffian race, viz., that that method of pointing ought no more to be pursued, than those people ought to cut your throat who suffer by it, because I take both to be murder, and the law is not in every private man's hands to execute: but indeed, sir, were you the only person would suffer by theTatler'sdiscontinuance, I have malice enough to punish you in the manner you prescribe; but I am not so great an enemy to the town or my own pleasures, as to wish it; nor that you would lay aside lashing the reigning vices, so long as you keep to the true spirit of satire, without descending to rake into characters below its dignity; for as you well observe, 'there is something very terrible in unjustly attacking men in a way that may prejudice their honour or fortune;' and indeed, where crimes are enormous, the delinquent deserves little pity, yet the reporter may deserve less: and here I am naturally led to that celebrated author of 'The Whole Duty of Man,' who hath set this matter in a true light in his treatise of 'The Government of the Tongue;'[191]where, speaking of uncharitable truths, he says, a discovery of this kind serves not to reclaim, but enrage the offender, and precipitate him into further degrees of ill. Modesty and fear of shame is one of those natural restraints, which the wisdom of heaven has put upon mankind; and he that once stumbles, may yet by a check of that bridle recover again: but when by a public detection he is fallen under that infamy he feared, he will then be apt to discard all caution, and to think he owes himself the utmost pleasures of vice, as the price of his reputation. Nay, perhaps he advances further, and sets up for a reversed sort of fame, by being eminently wicked, and he who before was but a clandestine disciple, becomes a doctor of impiety, &c. This sort of reasoning, sir, most certainly induced our wise legislators very lately to repeal that law which put the stamp of infamy in the face of felons; therefore you had better give an act of oblivion to your delinquents, at least for transportation, than continue to mark them in so notorious a manner. I cannot but applaud your designed attempt of raising merit from obscurity, celebrating virtue in distress, and attacking vice in another method, by setting innocence in a proper light. Your pursuing these noble themes, will make a greater advance to the reformation you seem to aim at, than the method you have hitherto taken, by putting mankind beyond the power of retrieving themselves, or indeed to think it possible. But if after all your endeavours in this new way, there should then remain any hardened impenitents, you must even give them up to the rigour of the law, as delinquents not within the benefit of their clergy. Pardon me, good Mr. Bickerstaff, for the tediousness of this epistle, and believe it is not from any self-conviction I have taken up so much of your time, or my own; but supposing you mean all your lucubrations should tend to the good of mankind, I may the easier hope your pardon, being,
"Sir,
Yours, &c."
This evening I thought fit to notify to the literati of this house, and by that means to all the world, that on Saturday the 15th of October next ensuing, I design to fix my first table of fame;[193]and desire that such as are acquainted with the characters of the twelve most famous men that have ever appeared in the world, would send in their lists, or name any one man for that table, assigning also his place at it before that time, upon pain of having such his man of fame postponed, or placed too high for ever. I shall not, upon any application whatsoever, alter the place which upon that day I shall give to any of these worthies. But whereas there are many who take upon them to admire this hero, or that author, upon second-hand, I expect each subscriber should underwrite his reason for the place he allots his candidate.
The thing is of the last consequence; for we are about settling the greatest point that has ever been debated in any age, and I shall take precautions accordingly. Let every man who votes consider, that he is now going to give away that, for which the soldier gave up his rest, his pleasure, and his life; the scholar resigned his whole series of thought, his midnight repose, and his morning slumbers. In a word, he is (as I may say) to be judge of that after-life, which noble spirits prefer to their very real being. I hope I shall be forgiven therefore, if Imake some objections against their jury as they shall occur to me. The whole of the number by whom they are to be tried, are to be scholars. I am persuaded also, that Aristotle will be put up by all of that class of men. However, in behalf of others, such as wear the livery of Aristotle, the two famous universities are called upon on this occasion; but I except the men of Queen's, Exeter, and Jesus Colleges,[194]in Oxford, who are not to be electors, because he shall not be crowned from an implicit faith in his writings, but to receive his honour from such judges as shall allow him to be censured. Upon this election (as I was just now going to say) I banish all who think and speak after others to concern themselves in it. For which reason all illiterate distant admirers are forbidden to corrupt the voices, by sending, according to the new mode, any poor students coals and candles for their votes[195]in behalf of such worthies as they pretend to esteem. All news-writers are also excluded, because they consider fame as it is a report which gives foundation to the filling up their rhapsodies, and not as it is the emanation or consequence of good and evil actions. These are excepted against as justly as butchers in case of life and death: their familiarity with the greatest names takes off the delicacy of their regard, as dealing in blood makes thelaniiless tender of spilling it.
Letters from Lisbon of the 25th inst., N. S., speak of a battle which has been fought near the river Cinca, in which General Staremberg had overthrown the army of the Duke of Anjou. The persons who send this, excuse their not giving particulars, because they believed an account must have arrived here before we could hear from them. They had advices from different parts, which concurred in the circumstances of the action; after which the army of his Catholic Majesty advanced as far as Fraga, and the enemy retired to Saragossa. There are reports that the Duke of Anjou was in the engagement; but letters of good authority say, that prince was on the road towards the camp when he received the news of the defeat of his troops. We promise ourselves great consequences from such an advantage, obtained by so accomplished a general as Staremberg; who, among the men of this present age, is esteemed the third in military fame and reputation.