There is something very terrible in unjustly but once to the sick, except they return his attacking men in a way that may prejudice visit.' Will's Coffee-house, September 20. ESQUIRE BICKERSTAFF, 'Finding your advice and censure to have a good effect, I desire your admonition to our vicar and schoolmaster, who, in his preaching to his auditors, stretches his jaws so wide, that, instead of instructing youth, it rather frightens them: likewise, in reading prayers, he has such a careless loll, that people are justly offended at his irreverent posture; besides the extraordinary charge they are put to in sending their children to dance, to bring them off those ill gestures. Another evil faculty he has, in making the bowling-green his daily residence, instead of his church, where his curate reads prayers every day. If the weather is fair, his time is spent in visiting; if cold or wet, in bed, or at least at home, though within a hundred yards of the church. These, out of many such irregular practices, I write for his reclamation: but, two or three things more before I conclude; to wit, that generally when his curate preaches in the afternoon, he sleeps sotting in the desk on a hassock. With all this he is so extremely proud that he will go I was going on in reading my letter, when I was interrupted by Mr. Greenhat, who has been this evening at the play of Hamlet. 'Mr. Bickerstaff,' said he, 'had you been to-night at the play-house, you had seen the force of action in perfection: your admired Mr. Betterton behaved himself so well, that, though now about seventy, he acted youth; and by the prevalent power of proper manner, gesture, and voice, appeared through the whole drama a young man of great expectation, vivacity, and enterprise. The soliloquy, where he began the celebrated sentence of "To be, or not to be!" the expostulation, where he explains with his mother in her closet, the noble ardour, after seeing his father's ghost; and his generous distress for the death of Ophelia, are each of them circumstances which dwell strongly upon the minds of the audience, and would certainly affect their behaviour on any parallel occasions in their own lives. Pray, Mr. Bickerstaff, let us have virtue thus represented on the stage with its proper ornaments, or let these ornaments be added to her in places more sacred. As for my part,' said he, 'I carried my cousin Jerry, this little boy, with me; and shall always love the child for his partiality in all that concerned the fortune of Hamlet. This is entering youth into the affections and passions of manhood beforehand, and, as it were, antedating the effects we hope from a long and liberal education.' I cannot, in the midst of many other things which press, hide the comfort that this letter from my ingenious kinsman gives me. 'To my honoured kinsman, Isaac Bickerstaff, Esquire. 'I am sorry, though not surprised, to find that you have rallied the men of dress in vain ; that the amber-headed cane still maintains its unstable post; that pockets are but a few inches shortened; and a beau is still a beau, from the crown of his night-cap, to the heels of his shoes. For your comfort, I can assure you, that your endeavours succeed better in this famous seat of learning. By them the manners of our young gentlemen are in a fair way of amendment, and their very language is mightily refined. To them it is owing, that not a servitor will sing a catch, nor a seniorfellow make a pun, nor a determining bachelor drink a bumper; and I believe a gentlemancommoner would as soon have the heels of his shoes red, as his stockings. When a witling stands at a coffee-house door, and sneers at those who pass by, to the great improvement of his hopeful audience. he is no longer sur ، named a slicer,' but 'a man of fire' is the word. A beauty, whose health is drunk from Heddington to Hinksey; who has been the theme of the muses, her cheeks painted with roses, and her bosom planted with orangeboughs; has no more the title of 'lady,' but reigns an undisputed 'toast.' When to the plain garb of gown and band a spark adds an inconsistent long wig, we do not say now 'he boshes,' but 'there goes a smart fellow.' If a virgin blushes, we no longer cry, 'she blues.' He that drinks until he stares is no more 6 Be yours the glory to perform, mine to record, as Mr. Dryden has said before me to his kinsman; and while you enter triumphant into the temple of the muses, I, as my office requires, will, with my staff on my shoulder, attend and conduct you. 'I am, dear cousin, 'Your most affectionate kinsman, ***Upon the humble ap lication of certain persons who have made heroic figures in Mr. Bickerstaff's narrations, notice is hereby given, that no such shall ever be mentioned for the future, except those who have sent menaces, and not submitted to admonition. No. 72.] Saturday, September 24, 1709. nostri est farrago libelli. Juv. Sat. i. 85, 86. White's Chocolate-house, September 23. P. 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 the characters of the ancient heroes, as persons 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 writ Pætus the following billet: 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 passion of 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 flowing 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 London, Sept. 17. more helpless than that of an infant: but 'Your design of entertaining the town with I again, her indignation shows in her visage and 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, 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 ty rant'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,' says she, it is not painful;' and expired. Pætus immediately followed her example. The passion of these memorable lovers was such, that it illuded 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.* From my own Apartment, September 23. The boy says, one in a black hat left the following letter: 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 dipt into the Lamentations, and from thence turn ing to the thirty-fourth 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 elty have ye ruled them.' &c. Now, I • Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Pæto, eru pray Martial. Epig. i. 14. When the chaste Arria reached the recking sword, I die by that which Pætus must reccive. 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 prophesy 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 cannot see what injury it would do to any clergyman to have it in his eye, and believe all that are taken from him by his want of indus try are to be demanded of him. I dare say, Favonius 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 hopes 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 enquirers; as in the following: 'Upon reading that part of the Tatler, No. 69, where mention is made of a certain chapelclerk, there arose a dispute, and that produced a wager, whether by the words chapel-clerk was meant a clergyman or layman? by a clergyman I mean one in holy orders. It was not that any body 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 this, are much at a loss to understand what I thought very plain; and, in return, their epistle is so plain, that I cannot 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 he pleases; 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. * r. Smalridge. '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, '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 shall 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. ، Paulum sepultæ distat inertiæ Hor. 4. Od. ix. 29. "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. '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 under-graduates, but each is a master of his art. They are distributed according to their relating to your fraternity, let them pronounce various talents, and detached abroad in parties, who is the more impudent. 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 school-fellow. 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 The waiter at White's Chocolate-house. + Sir Humphrey Moneux. 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, 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 a 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 will bring him to my house, we will take care of him, and you shall have half the profits. There is Ace and Cutter will do his business to a hair. You will tell me, perhaps, he is 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, 'In short, there are, to iny certain knowledge, a hundred mouths open for him. Now, if we can secure him to ourselves, we shall disappoint all those rascals that do not 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 nim 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 bid 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 esquires, 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 these words: His oaks must be felled. I am, sir, your faithful humble servant, WILL. TRUSTY.'* * This letter was written by John Hughes, esq. From my own Apartment, September 26. It is wonderful to consider what a pitch of confidence this world is arrived at. 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 Queen-Hithe send coals to all the town but me. All the public papers have had this advertisement : London, September 22, 1709. To the electors of an alderman for the ward of Queen-Hithe. 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 ale-houses, 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. |