St. James's Coffee-house, June 13
Letters from Vienna of the 8th instant say, there has been a journal of the marches and actions of the King of Sweden, from the beginning of January to the 11th of April, N.S., communicated by the Swedish Ministers to that Court. These advices inform, that his Swedish Majesty entered the territories of Muscovy in February last with the main body of his army, in order to oblige the enemy to a general engagement; but that the Muscovites declining a battle, and a universal thaw having rendered the rivers unpassable, the king returned into Ukrania. There are mentioned several rencounters between considerable detachments of the Swedish and Russian armies. Marshal Heister intended to take his leave of the Court on the day after the date of these letters, and put himself at the head of the army in Hungary. The malcontents had attempted to send in a supply of provisions into Neuheusel; but their design was disappointed by the Germans.
Advices from Berlin of the 15th instant, N.S., say, that his Danish Majesty having received an invitation from the King of Prussia to an interview, designed to come to Potsdam within few days; and that King Augustus resolved to accompany him thither. To avoid all difficulties in ceremony, the three kings, and all the company who shall have the honour to sit with them at table, are to draw lots, and take precedence accordingly.
They write from Hamburg of the 18th instant, N.S., that some particular letters from Dantzic speak of a late action between the Swedes and Muscovites near Jaroslaw; but that engagement being mentioned from no other place, there is not much credit given to this intelligence.
We hear from Brussels, by letters, dated the 20th, that on the 14th in the evening the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene arrived at Courtray, with a design to proceed the day following to Lille, in the neighbourhood of which city the confederate army was to rendezvous the same day. Advices from Paris inform us, that the Marshal de Bezons is appointed to command in Dauphiné; and that the Duke of Berwick is set out for Spain, with a design to follow the fortunes of the Duke of Anjou, in case the French king should comply with the late demands of the Allies.
The Court of France has sent a circular letter to all the governors of the provinces, to recommend to their consideration his Majesty's late conduct in the affair of peace. It is thought fit in that epistle, to condescend to a certain appeal to the people, whether it is consistent with the dignity of the crown, or the French name, to submit to the preliminaries demanded by the confederates? The letter dwells upon the unreasonableness of the Allies, in requiring, that his Majesty should assist in dethroning his grandson, and treats this particular in language more suitable to it, as it is a topic of oratory, than a real circumstance, on which the interests of nations, and reasons of State, which affect all Europe, are concerned.
The close of this memorial seems to prepare the people to expect all events, attributing the confidence of the enemy to the goodness of their troops; but acknowledging, that his sole dependence is upon the intervention of Providence.
No. 29.
[STEELE.
From Tuesday, June 14, to Thursday, June 16, 1709
White's Chocolate-house, June 14
Having a very solid respect for human nature, however it is distorted from its natural make, by affectation, humour, custom, misfortune, or vice, I do apply myself to my friends to help me in raising arguments for preserving it in all its individuals, as long as it is permitted. To one of my letters on this subject, I have received the following answer:298
"SIR,
"In answer to your question, why men of sense, virtue, and experience, are seen still to comply with that ridiculous custom of duelling, I must desire you to reflect, that custom has dished up in ruffs the wisest heads of our ancestors, and put the best of the present age into huge falbala periwigs.299 Men of sense would not impose such encumbrances on themselves; but be glad they might show their faces decently in public upon easier terms. If then such men appear reasonably slaves to the fashion, in what regards the figure of their persons, we ought not to wonder, that they are at least so in what seems to touch their reputations. Besides, you can't be ignorant, that dress and chivalry have been always encouraged by the ladies, as the two principal branches of gallantry. It is to avoid being sneered at for his singularity, and from a desire to appear more agreeable to his mistress, that a wise, experienced, and polite man, complies with the dress commonly received, and is prevailed upon to violate his reason and principles, in hazarding his life and estate by a tilt, as well as suffering his pleasures to be constrained and soured by the constant apprehension of a quarrel. This is the more surprising, because men of the most delicate sense and principles have naturally in other cases a particular repugnance in accommodating themselves to the maxims of the world: but one may easily distinguish the man that is affected with beauty, and the reputation of a tilt, from him who complies with both, merely as they are imposed upon him by custom; for in the former you will remark an air of vanity and triumph; whereas when the latter appears in a long Duvillier full of powder, or has decided a quarrel by the sword, you may perceive in his face, that he appeals to custom for an excuse. I think it may not be improper to inquire into the genealogy of this chimerical monster, called a 'duel', which I take to be an illegitimate species of the ancient knight-errantry. By the laws of this whim, your heroic person, or man of gallantry, was indispensably obliged to starve in armour a certain number of years in the chase of monsters, encounter them at the peril of his life, and suffer great hardships, in order to gain the affection of the fair lady, and qualify himself for assuming the belair, that is, of a pretty fellow, or man of honour according to the fashion: but since the publishing of 'Don Quixote' and extinction of the race of dragons, which Suetonius says happened in that of Wantley,300 the gallant and heroic spirits of these latter times have been under the necessity of creating new chimerical monsters to entertain themselves with, by way of single combats, as the only proofs they are able to give their own sex, and the ladies, that they are in all points men of nice honour. But to do justice to the ancient and real monsters, I must observe, that they never molested those who were not of a humour to hunt for them in the woods and deserts; whereas on the contrary, our modern monsters are so familiarly admitted and entertained in all the Courts and cities of Europe (except France) that one can scarce be in the most humanised society without risking one's life; the people of the best sort, and the fine gentlemen of the age, being so fond of them, that they seldom appear in any public place without one. I have some further considerations upon this subject, which, as you encourage me, shall be communicated to you, by, sir, a cousin but once removed from the best family of the Staffs, namely, "Sir,
"Your humble Servant,
"Kinsman and Friend,
"TIM SWITCH."
It is certain, Mr. Switch has hit upon the true source of this evil; and that it proceeds only from the force of custom that we contradict ourselves in half the particulars and occurrences of life. But such a tyranny in love, which the fair impose upon us, is a little too severe, that we must demonstrate our affection for them by no certain proof but hatred to one another, or come at them (only as one does to an estate) by survivorship. This way of application to gain a lady's heart, is taking her as we do towns and castles, by distressing the place, and letting none come near them without our pass. Were such a lover once to write the truth of his heart, and let her know his whole thoughts, he would appear indeed to have a passion for her; but it would hardly be called love. The billet-doux would run to this purpose:
"MADAM,
"I have so tender a regard for you and your interests, that I'll knock any man in the head whom I observe to be of my mind, and like you. Mr. Truman the other day looked at you in so languishing a manner, that I am resolved to run him through to-morrow morning: this, I think, he deserves for his guilt in admiring you; than which I cannot have a greater reason for murdering him, except it be that you also approve him. Whoever says he dies for you, I will make his words good, for I will kill him. I am,
"Madam,
"Your most obedient,
"Most humble Servant."
From my own Apartment, June 14
I am just come hither at ten at night, and have ever since six been in the most celebrated, though most nauseous, company in town: the two leaders of the society were a critic and a wit. These two gentlemen are great opponents upon all occasions, not discerning that they are the nearest each other in temper and talents of any two classes of men in the world; for to profess judgment, and to profess wit, both arise from the same failure, which is want of judgment. The poverty of the critic this way proceeds from the abuse of his faculty; that of the wit from the neglect of it. It is a particular observation I have always made, that of all mortals, a critic is the silliest; for by inuring himself to examine all things, whether they are of consequence or not, be never looks upon anything but with a design of passing sentence upon it; by which means, he is never a companion, but always a censor. This makes him earnest upon trifles; and dispute on the most indifferent occasions with vehemence. If he offers to speak or write, that talent which should approve the work of the other faculties, prevents their operation. He comes upon action in armour; but without weapons: he stands in safety; but can gain no glory. The wit on the other hand has been hurried so long away by imagination only, that judgment seems not to have ever been one of his natural faculties. This gentleman takes himself to be as much obliged to be merry, as the other to be grave. A thorough critic is a sort of Puritan in the polite world. As an enthusiast in religion stumbles at the ordinary occurrences of life, if he cannot quote scripture examples on the occasion; so the critic is never safe in his speech or writing, without he has among the celebrated writers an authority for the truth of his sentence. You will believe we had a very good time with these brethren, who were so far out of the dress of their native country, and so lost to its dialect, that they were as much strangers to themselves, as to their relation to each other. They took up the whole discourse; sometimes the critic grew passionate, and when reprimanded by the wit for any trip or hesitation in his voice, he would answer, Mr. Dryden makes such a character on such an occasion break off in the same manner; so that the stop was according to nature, and as a man in a passion should do. The wit, who is as far gone in letters as himself, seems to be at a loss to answer such an apology; and concludes only, that though his anger is justly vented, it wants fire in the utterance. If wit is to be measured by the circumstances of time and place, there is no man has generally so little of that talent, as he who is a wit by profession. What he says, instead of arising from the occasion, has an occasion invented to bring it in. Thus he is new for no other reason, but that he talks like nobody else; but has taken up a method of his own, without commerce of dialogue with other people. The lively Jasper Dactyle301 is one of this character. He seems to have made a vow to be witty to his life's end. When you meet him, "What do you think," says he, "I have been entertaining myself with?" Then out comes a premeditated turn, to which it is to no purpose to answer; for he goes on in the same strain of thought he designed without your speaking. Therefore I have a general answer to all he can say; as, "Sure there never was any creature had so much fire!" Spondee, who is a critic, is seldom out of this fine man's company. They have no manner of affection for each other, but keep together, like Novel and Oldfox in "The Plain Dealer,"302 because they show each other. I know several of sense who can be diverted with this couple; but I see no curiosity in the thing, except it be, that Spondee is dull, and seems dull; but Dactyle is heavy with a brisk face. It must be owned also, that Dactyle has almost vigour enough to be a coxcomb; but Spondee, by the lowness of his constitution, is only a blockhead.
St. James's Coffee-house, June 15
We have no particulars of moment since our last, except it be, that the copy of the following original letter came by the way of Ostend. It is said to have been found in the closet of Monsieur Chamillard, the late Secretary of State of France, since his disgrace. It was signed by two brothers of the famous Cavallier,303 who led the Cevennois, and had a personal interview with the king, as well as a capitulation to lay down his arms, and leave the dominions of France. There are many other names to it; among whom, is the chief of the family of the Marquis Guiscard.304 It is not yet known, whether Monsieur Chamillard had any real design to favour the Protestant interest, or only thought to place himself at the head of that people, to make himself considerable enough to oppose his enemies at Court, and reinstate himself in power there.
"SIR,
"We have read your Majesty's305 letter to the governors of your provinces, with instructions what sentiments to insinuate into the minds of your people: but as you have always acted upon the maxim, that we were made for you, and not you for us, we must take leave to assure your Majesty, that we are exactly of the contrary opinion, and must desire you to send for your grandson home, and acquaint him, that you now know by experience, absolute power is only a vertigo in the brain of princes, which for a time may quicken their motion, and double in their diseased sight the instances of power above them; but must end in their fall and destruction. Your memorial speaks a good father of your family, but a very ill one of your people. Your Majesty is reduced to hear truth when you are obliged to speak it: there is no governing any but savages by any methods but their own consent, which you seem to acknowledge, in appealing to us for our opinion of your conduct in treating of peace. Had your people been always of your council, the King of France had never been reduced so low, as to acknowledge his arms were fallen into contempt. But since it is thus, we must ask, 'How is any man of France, but they of the House of Bourbon, the better that Philip is King of Spain?' We have outgrown that folly of placing our happiness in your Majesty's being called, The Great; therefore as you and we are all alike bankrupts,306 and undone, let us not deceive ourselves, but compound with our adversaries, and not talk like their equals. Your Majesty must forgive us that we cannot wish you success, or lend you help; for if you lose one battle more, we may have a hand in the peace you make; and doubt not but your Majesty's faith in treaties will require the ratification of the states of your kingdoms. So we bid you heartily farewell, till we have the honour to meet you assembled in Parliament. This happy expectation makes us willing to wait the event of another campaign, from whence we hope to be raised from the misery of slaves, to the privileges of subjects. We are,
"Your Majesty's
"Truly faithful, and
"Loyal Subjects, &c."
No. 30.
[STEELE.
From Thursday, June 16, to Saturday, June 18, 1709
From my own Apartment, June 16
The vigilance, the anxiety, the tenderness, which I have for the good people of England, I am persuaded will in time be much commended; but I doubt whether they will ever be rewarded. However, I must go on cheerfully in my work of reformation: that being my great design, I am studious to prevent my labours increasing upon me; therefore am particularly observant of the temper and inclinations of childhood and youth, that we may not give vice and folly supplies from the growing generation. It is hardly to be imagined how useful this study is, and what great evils or benefits arise from putting us in our tender years to what we are fit, or unfit: therefore on Tuesday last (with a design to sound their inclinations) I took three lads who are under my guardianship a rambling, in a hackney-coach, to show them the town, as the lions,307 the tombs,308 Bedlam,309 and the other places which are entertainments to raw minds, because they strike forcibly on the fancy. The boys are brothers, one of sixteen, the other of fourteen, the other of twelve. The first was his father's darling, the second his mother's, and the third is mine, who am their uncle. Mr. William is a lad of true genius; but being at the upper end of a great school, and having all the lads below him, his arrogance is insupportable. If I begin to show a little of my Latin, he immediately interrupts: "Uncle, under favour, that which you say is not understood in that manner." "Brother," says my boy Jack, "you do not show your manners much in contradicting my Uncle Isaac." "You queer cur," says Mr. William, "do you think my uncle takes any notice of such a dull rogue as you are?" Mr. William goes on; "He is the most stupid of all my mother's children: he knows nothing of his book: when he should mind that, he is hiding or hoarding his taws and marbles, or laying up farthings. His way of thinking is, four and twenty farthings make sixpence, and two sixpences a shilling, two shillings and sixpence half a crown, and two half-crowns five shillings. So within these two months, the close hunks has scraped up twenty shillings, and we'll make him spend it all before he comes home." Jack immediately claps his hands into both pockets, and turns as pale as ashes. There is nothing touches a parent (and such I am to Jack) so nearly, as a provident temper. This lad has in him the true temper for a good husband, a kind father, and an honest executor. All the great people you see make considerable figures on the 'Change, in Court, and sometimes in Senates, are such as in reality have no greater faculty than what may be called human instinct, which is a natural tendency to their own preservation, and that of their friends, without being capable of striking out of the road for adventures. There is Sir William Scrip was of this sort of capacity from his childhood: he has bought the country round him, and makes a bargain better than Sir Harry Wildfire with all his wit and humour. Sir Harry never wants money but he comes to Scrip, laughs at him half an hour, and then gives bond for the other thousand. The close men are incapable of placing merit anywhere but in their pence, and therefore gain it; while others, who have larger capacities, are diverted from the pursuit by enjoyments, which can be supported only by that cash which they despise; and therefore are in the end, slaves to their inferiors both in fortune and understanding. I once heard a man of excellent sense observe, that more affairs in the world failed by being in the hands of men of too large capacities for their business, than by being in the conduct of such as wanted abilities to execute them. Jack therefore being of a plodding make, shall be a citizen; and I design him to be the refuge of the family in their distress, as well as their jest in prosperity. His brother Will, shall go to Oxford with all speed, where, if he does not arrive at being a man of sense, he will soon be informed wherein he is a coxcomb. There is in that place such a true spirit of raillery and humour, that if they can't make you a wise man, they will certainly let you know you are a fool, which is all my cousin wants to cease to be so. Thus having taken these two out of the way, I have leisure to look at my third lad. I observe in the young rogue a natural subtilty of mind, which discovers itself rather in forbearing to declare his thoughts on any occasion, than in any visible way of exerting himself in discourse. For which reason I will place him where, if he commits no faults, he may go farther than those in other stations, though they excel in virtues. The boy is well fashioned, and will easily fall into a graceful manner; wherefore, I have a design to make him a page to a great lady of my acquaintance; by which means he will be well skilled in the common modes of life, and make a greater progress in the world by that knowledge, than with the greatest qualities without it. A good mien in a Court will carry a man greater lengths than a good understanding in any other place. We see a world of pains taken, and the best years of life spent, in collecting a set of thoughts in a college for the conduct of life; and after all, the man so qualified shall hesitate in his speech to a good suit of clothes, and want common sense before an agreeable woman. Hence it is, that wisdom, valour, justice, and learning, can't keep a man in countenance that is possessed with these excellences, if he wants that less art of life and behaviour, called "good breeding." A man endowed with great perfections without this, is like one who has his pockets full of gold, but always wants change for his ordinary occasions. Will. Courtly is a living instance of this truth, and has had the same education which I am giving my nephew. He never spoke a thing but what was said before; and yet can converse with the wittiest men without being ridiculous. Among the learned, he does not appear ignorant; nor with the wise, indiscreet. Living in conversation from his infancy, makes him nowhere at a loss; and a long familiarity with the persons of men, is in a manner of the same service to him, as if he knew their arts. As ceremony is the invention of wise men to keep fools at a distance, so good breeding is an expedient to make fools and wise men equals.