Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub
[blocks in formation]

This day arrived the vanguard of the theatrical army. Your friend, Mr. George Powel, commanded the artillery, both celestial and terrestrial. The magazines of snow, lightning, and thunder, are safely laid up. We have had no disaster on the way, but that of breaking Cupid's bow by a jolt of the waggon: but they tell us they make them very well in Oxford. We all went in a body, and were shown your chambers in Lincoln college. The Teræ filius expects you down, and we of the theatre, design to bring you into town with all our guards. Those of Alexander the Great, Julius Cæsar, and the faithful retinue of Cato, shall meet you at Shotover. The ghost of Hamlet, and the statue which supped with Don John, both say, that though it be at noon-day, they will attend your entry. Every body expects you with great impatience. We shall be in very good order when all are come down. We have sent to town for a brick-wall which we forgot. The sea is to come by water.

'Your most humble servant,
6 and faithful correspondent,

THE PROMPTER.'

No. 96.] Wednesday, July 1, 1713.

Cuneti adscint, meritæque expectent præmia palmæ.
Virg. En. v. 70.

Let all be present at the games prepar'd;
And joyful victors wait the just reward. Dryden.

THERE is no maxim in politics more indisputable, than that a nation should have many honours in reserve for those who do national services. This raises emulation, cherishes public merit, and inspires every one with an ambition which promotes the good of his country. The less expensive these honours are to the public, the more still do they turn to its advantage.

and his children take their ranks accordingly. This keeps the ambitious subject in a perpetual dependence, making him always vigilant and active, and in every thing conformable to the will of his sovereign,

There are no honorary rewards among us, which are more esteemed by the person who receives them, and are cheaper to the prince, than the giving of medals. But there is something in the modern manner of celebrating a great action in medals, which makes such a reward much less valuable than it was among the Romans. There is generally but one coin stamped on the occasion, which is made a present to the person who is celebrated on it. By this means his whole fame is in bis own custody. The applause that is bestowed upon him is too much limited and confined. He is in possession of an honour which the world perhaps knows nothing of. He may be a great man in his own family; his wife and children may see the monument of an exploit, which the public in a little time is a stranger to. The Romans took a quite different method in this particular. Their medals were their current money. When an action deserved to be recorded in coin, it was stamped perhaps upon a hundred thousand pieces of money like our shillings, or halfpence, which were issued out of the mint, and became current. This method published every noble action to advantage, and in a short space of time, spread through the whole Roman empire. The Romans were so careful to preserve the memory of great events upon their coins, that when any particular piece of money grew very scarce, it was often recoined by a succeeding emperor, many years after the death of the emperor to whose honour it was first struck.

A friend of mine drew up a project of this kiud during the late ministry, which would then have been put in execution had it not been too busy a time for thoughts of that naThe Romans abounded with these little ture. As this project has been very much honorary rewards, that without conferring talked of by the gentleman above-mentioned wealth or riches, gave only place and distine- to men of the greatest genius, as well as quation to the person who received them. An lity; I am informed there is now a design on oaken garland to be worn on festivals and foot for executing the proposal which was then public ceremonies, was the glorious recom-made, aud that we shall have several farthings pense of one who had covered a citizen in battle. A soldier would not only venture his life for a mural crown, but think the most hazardous enterprise sufficiently repaid by so noble a donation.

But among all honorary rewards which are neither dangerous nor detrimental to the donor, I remember none so remarkable as the titles which are bestowed by the emperor of China, These are never given to any subject, says monsieur le Comte, until the subject is dead. If he has pleased his emperor to the last, he is called in all public memorials by the title which the emperor confers on him after his death,

and halfpence charged on the reverse with many of the glorious particulars of her majesty's reign. This is one of those arts of peace which may very well deserve to be cultivated, and which may be of great use to posterity.

As I have in my possession the copy of the paper above-mentioned, which was delivered to the late lord treasurer, I shall here give the public a sight of it; for I do not question but that the curious part of my readers will be very much pleased to see so much matter, and so many useful hints upon this subject, laid together in so clear and concise a manner.

The English have not been so careful as

other polite nations to preserve the memory | not perishable by time, nor confined to any
of their great actions and events on medals. certain place; properties not to be found in
Their subjects are few, their mottoes and de-books, statues, pictures, buildings, or any other
vices mean, and the coins themselves not nu- monuments of illustrious actions.
merous enough to spread among the people,
or descend to posterity.

-Furor est post omnia perdere naulam.

Juv. Sat. viii. 97.

'Tis mad to lavish what their rapine left.

The French have outdone us in these par- No. 97.] Thursday, July 2, 1713. ticulars, and by the establishment of a society for the invention of proper inscriptions and designs, have the whole history of their present king in a regular series of medals. They have failed as well as the English, in coining so small a number of each kind, and those of such costly metals, that each species may be lost in a few ages, and is at present no where to be met with but in the cabinets of the curious.

'The ancient Romans took the only effectual method to disperse and preserve their medals, by making them their current money.

'Every thing glorious or useful, as well in peace as war, gave occasion to a different coin. Not only an expedition, victory, or triumph, but the exercise of a solemn devotion, the remission of a duty or tax, a new temple, seaport, or highway, were transmitted to posterity after this manner.

The greatest variety of devices are on their copper money, which have most of the designs that are to be met with on the gold and silver, and several peculiar to that metal only. By this means they were dispersed into the remotest corners of the empire, came into the possession of the poor as well as rich, and were in no danger of perishing in the hands of those that might have melted down coins of a more valuable metal.

'Add to all this, that the designs were invented by men of genius, and executed by a decree of senate.

'It is therefore proposed,

'I. That the English farthings and halfpence be re-coined upon the union of the two nations.

II. That they bear devices and inscriptions alluding to all the most remarkable parts of her majesty's reign.

'III. That there be a society established for the finding out of proper subjects, inscriptions, and devices.

'IV. That no subject, inscription, or device, be stamped without the approbation of this society, nor if it be thought proper, without the authority of privy-council.

By this means, medals that are at present only a dead treasure, or mere curiosities, will be of use in the ordinary commerce of life, and at the same time, perpetuate the glories of her majesty's reign, reward the labours of her greatest subjects, keep alive in the people a gratitude for public services, and excite the emulation of posterity. To these generous purposes nothing can so much contribute as medals of this kind, which are of undoubted authority, of necessary use and observation,

'SIR,

Stepney.

'I was left a thousand pounds by an uncle,
and being a man to my thinking very likely to
get a rich widow, I laid aside all thoughts of
making my fortune any other way, and with-
out loss of time made my application to one
who had buried her husband about a week be-
fore. By the help of some of her she-friends
who were my relations, I got into her company
when she would see no man besides myself and
her lawyer, who is a little, rivelled, spindle-
shanked gentleman, and married to boot, so
that I had no reason to fear him. Upon my
first seeing her, she said in conversation within
my hearing, that she thought a pale complexion
the most agreeable either in man or woman.
Now you must know, sir, my face is as white
as chalk. This gave me some encouragement;
so that to mend the matter I bought a fine
flaxen long wig that cost me thirty guineas,
and found an opportunity of seeing her in it
the next day. She then let drop some ex-
pressions about an agate snuff-box. I imme-
diately took the hint, and bought one, being
unwilling to omit any thing that might make
me desirable in her eyes. I was betrayed after
the same manner into a brocade waistcoat, a
sword knot, a pair of silver fringed gloves, and
a diamond ring. But whether out of fickleness
or a design upon me, I cannot tell; but I found
by her discourse, that what she liked one day,
she disliked another: so that in six months'
space I was forced to equip myself above a
dozen times. As I told you before, I took her
hints at a distance, for I could never find an
opportunity of talking with her directly to the
point. All this time, however, I was allowed
the utmost familiarities with her lap-dog, and
have played with it above an hour together,
without receiving the least reprimand, and had
many other marks of favour shown me, which
I thought amounted to a promise. If she
chanced to drop her fan, she received it from
my hands with great civility. If she wanted
any thing, I reached it for her. I have filled
her tea-pot above a hundred times, and have
afterwards received a dish of it from her own
hands. Now, sir, do you judge, if after such
encouragements, she was not obliged to marry
me. I forgot to tell you that I kept a chair
by the week, on purpose to carry me thither
and back again. Not to trouble you with a

[ocr errors]

long letter, in the space of about a twelvemonth I have run out of my whole thousand pound upon her, having laid out the last fifty in a new suit of clothes, in which I was resolved to receive her final answer, which amounted to this, 66 that she was engaged to another; that she never dreamt I had any such thing in my head as marriage; and that she thought I had frequented her house only because I loved to be in company with my relations." This, you know, sir, is using a man like a fool, and so I told her; but the worst of it is, that I have spent my fortune to no purpose. All, therefore, that I desire of you is, to tell me whether, upon exhibiting the several particulars which I have related to you, I may not sue her for damages in a court of justice. Your advice in this particular will very much oblige

Your most humble admirer,

SIMON SOFTLY.'

Before I answer Mr. Softly's request, I find myself under a necessity of discussing two nice points. First of all, What it is, in cases of this nature, that amounts to an encouragement; and secondly, What it is that amounts to a promise? Each of which subjects requires more time to examine than I am at present master of. Besides, I would have my friend Simon consider, whether he has any counsel that will undertake his cause in forma pauperis, he having unluckily disabled himself, by his own account of the matter, from prosecuting his suit any other way.

Gilt paper in letters, and billet-doux, witn perfumed wax.

A ream of sonnets and love-verses, purchased at different times of Mr. Triplet at a crown a sheet.

To Zelinda, two sticks of May-cherries. Last summer at several times, a bushel of peaches.

Three porters whom I planted about her to watch her motions.

The first who stood centry near her door. The second who had his stand at the stables where her coach was put up.

The third who kept watch at the corner of the street where Ned Courtall lives, who has since married her.

Two additional porters planted over her during the whole month of May.

Five conjurors kept in pay all last winter. Spy-money to John Trott her footman, and Mrs. Sarah Wheedle her companion.

A new Conningsmark blade to fight Ned Courtall.

To Zelinda's woman (Mrs. Abigail) an Indian fan, a dozen pair of white kid gloves, a piece of Flanders lace, and fifteen guineas in dry money.

Secret-service money to Betty at the ring.
Ditto to Mrs. Tape the mantua-maker.
Loss of time.

[blocks in formation]

In sese redit

He resumes himself.

48

Virg. Georg. iv. 444.

THE first who undertook to instruct the world in single papers was Isaac Bickerstaff of famous memory: a man nearly related to the family of the Ironsides. We have often smoked a pipe together; for I was so much

In answer, however, to Mr. Softly's request, I shall acquaint him with a method made use of by a young fellow in king Charles the Second's reign, whom I shall here call Silvio, who had long made love with much artifice and intrigue, to a rich widow, whose true name I shall conceal under that of Zelinda. Silvio, who was much more smitten with her fortune than her person, finding a twelve-in his books, that at his decease he left me a month's application unsuccessful, was resolved to make a saving bargain of it; and since he could not get the widow's estate into his possession, to recover at least what he had laid out of his own in the pursuit of it.

In order to this he presented her with a bill of costs, having particularised in it the several expenses he had been at in his long perplexed amour. Zelinda was so pleased with the bumour of the fellow, and his frank way of dealing, that, upon the perusal of the bill, she sent him a purse of fifteen hundred guineas, by the right application of which, the lover, in less than a year, got a woman of a greater fortune than her he had missed. The several articles in the bill of costs I pretty well remember, though I have forgotten the particular sum charged to each article.

Laid out in supernumerary full-bottom wigs. Fiddles for a serenade, with a speaking trumpet.

cilver standish, a pair of spectacles, and the lamp by which he used to write his lucubrations.

The venerable Isaac was succeeded by a gentleman of the same family, very memorable for the shortness of his face and of his speeches. This ingenious author published his thoughts, and held his tongue with great applause, for two years together.

I Nestor Ironside, have now for some time undertaken to fill the place of these my two renowned kinsinen and predecessors. For it is observed of every branch of our family, that we have all of us a wonderful inclination to give good advice, though it is remarked of some of us, that we are apt on this occasion, rather to give than take.

However it be, I cannot but observe with some secret pride, that this way of writing diurnal papers has not succeeded for any space of time in the hands of any persons who are not of our line. I believe I speak within com

pass, when I affirm that above a hundred different authors have endeavoured after our family-way of writing, some of which have been writers in other kinds of the greatest eminence in the kingdom: but I do not know how it has happened, they have none of them hit upon the art. Their projects have always dropt after a few unsuccessful essays. It puts me in mind of a story which was lately told me by a pleasant friend of mine, who has a very fine hand on the violin. His maid servant seeing his instrument lying upon the table, and being sensible there was music in it, if she knew how to fetch it out, drew the bow over every part of the strings, and at last told her master she had tried the fiddle all over, but could not for her heart find where about the tune lay.

But though the whole burden of such a paper is only fit to rest on the shoulders of a Bickerstaff or an Ironside; there are several who can acquit themselves of a single day's labour in it with suitable abilities. These are gentlemen whom I have often invited to this trial of wit, and who have several of them acquitted themselves to my private emolument; as well as to their own reputation. My paper among the republic of letters is the Ulysses his bow, in which every man of wit or learning may try his strength. One who does not care to write a book without being sure of his abilities, may see by this means if his parts and talents are to the public taste.

This I take to be of great advantage to men of the best sense, who are always diffident of their private judgment, until it receives a sanction from the public. 'Provoco ad populum,' I appeal to the people,' was the usual saying of a very excellent dramatic poet, when he had any dispute with particular persons about the justness and regularity of his productions. It is but a melancholy comfort for an author to be satisfied that he has written up to the rules of art, when he finds he has no admirers in the world besides himself. Common modesty should, on this occasion, make a man suspect his own judgment, and that he misapplies the rules of his art, when he finds himself singular in the applause which he bestows upon his own writings.

The public is always even with an author who has not a just deference for them. The contempt is reciprocal. I laugh at every one,' said an old cynic, who laughs at me.' 'Do you so,' replied the philosopher; then let me tell you, you live the merriest life of any man in Athens.'

It is not, therefore, the least use of this my paper, that it gives a timorous writer, and such is every good one, an opportunity of putting his abilities to the proof, and of sounding the public before he launches into it. For this reason I look upon my paper as a kind of nursery for authors, and question not but some

who have made a good figure bere, will hereafter flourish under their own names in more long and elaborate works.

After having thus far enlarged upon this particular, I have one favour to beg of the candid and courteous reader, that when be meets with any thing in this paper which may appear a little dull and heavy (though I hope this will not be often) he will believe it is the work of some other person, and not of Nestor Ironside.

I have, I know not how, been drawn into tattle of myself, more majorum, almost the length of a whole Guardian; I shall, therefore, fill up the remaining part of it with what still relates to my own person and my correspondents. Now I would have them all know, that on the twentieth instant it is my intention to erect a lion's head in imitation of those I have described in Venice, through which all the pri vate intelligence of that commonwealth is said to pass. This head is to open a most wide and voracious mouth, which shall take in such letters and papers as are conveyed to me by my correspondents, it being my resolution to have a particular regard to all such matters as come to my hands through the mouth of the hon.

There will be under it a box, of which the key will be kept in my own custody, to receive such papers as are dropped into it. Whatever the lion swallows I shall digest for the use of the public. This head requires some time to finish, the work man being resolved to give it several masterly touches and to represent it as ravenous as possible. It will be set up in Button's coffee-house in Covent-garden,* who is directed to show the way to the lion's head, and to instruct any young author how to convey his works into the mouth of it with safety and secrecy.

No. 99.] Saturday, July 4, 1713.

Justum et tenacem propositi virum,
Non civium ardor prava jubentiam,
Non vultus instantis tyrannÍ

Mente quatit solida; neque auster
Dux inquieti turbidns Adriæ,
Nec fulminantis magua Jovis manus :
Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruinæ. Hor. Lib. 3. Od. iii. 1.

PARAPHRASED.

The man resolv'd and steady to his trust,
Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just,
May the rude rabble's insolence despise,
Their senseless clamours, and tumultuous cries:
The tyrant's fierceness he begniles,
And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defics
And with superior greatness smiles.

Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms
Adria's black gulph, and vexes it with storms,

• The lion's hear, formerly at Button's cofee heus», WZ9 preserved many years at the Shakspeare tavern in Cevert garden; the master of the tavern becoming a bankrupt, it was sold among his effects, Nov. 8, 1804, for 17%. 10s.

[blocks in formation]

THERE is no virtue so truly great and godlike as justice. Most of the other virtues are the virtues of created beings, or accommodated to our nature as we are men. Justice is that

which is practised by God himself, and to be practised in its perfection by none but him. Omniscience and omnipotence are requisite for the full exertion of it. The one to discover

every degree of uprightness or iniquity in thoughts, words, and actions; the other, to measure out and impart suitable rewards and punishments.

As to be perfectly just is an attribute in the divine nature, to be so to the utmost of our abilities is the glory of a man. Such a one, who has the public administration in his hands, acts like the representative of his maker, in recompensing the virtuous, and punishing the offender. By the extirpating of a criminal he averts the judgments of Heaven, when ready to fall upon an impious people; or, as my friend Cato expresses it much better, in a sentiment

conformable to his character,

When by just vengeance impious mortals perish, The gods behold their punishment with pleasure, And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.' When a nation once loses its regard to justice; when they do not look upon it as something venerable, holy, and inviolable; when any of them dare presume to lessen, affront, or terrify those who have the distribution of it in their hands; when a judge is capable of being influenced by any thing but law, or a cause may be recommended by any thing that is foreign to its own merits, we may venture to pronounce that such a nation is hastening to its ruin.

For this reason the best law that has ever past in our days, is that which continues our judges in their posts during their good behaviour, without leaving them to the mercy of such who in ill times might, by an undue influence over them, trouble and pervert the course of justice. I dare say the extraordinary person who is now posted in the chief station of the law, would have been the same had that act never past; but it is a great satisfaction to all bonest men, that while we see the greatest ornament of the profession in its highest post, we are sure he cannot hurt himself by that assiduous, regular, and impartial administration of justice, for which he is so universally celebrated by the whole kingdom. Such men are to be reckoned among the greatest national blessings, and should have that honour paid them whilst they are yet living, which will not fail to crown their memory when dead.

I always rejcice when I see a tribunal filled with a man of an upright and inflexible tem per, who in the execution of his country's laws can overcome all private fear, resentment solicitation, and even pity itself. Whateve passion enters into a sentence or decision, st far will there be in it a tincture of injustice In short, justice discards party, friendship kindred, and is therefore always represented as blind, that we may suppose her thought without being diverted or prejudiced by objects are wholly intent on the equity of a cause,

foreign to it.

I shall conclude this paper with a Persian story, which is very suitable to my present subject. It will not a little please the reader, if he has the same taste of it which I myself

have.

plains of Avala, a certain great man of the As one of the sultans lay encamped on the and finding his wife very handsome, turned the army entered by force into a peasant's house, good man out of his dwelling and went to bed

to her.

morning to the sultan, and desired redress; The peasant complained the next but was not able to point out the criminal. The emperor, who was very much incensed at the injury done to the poor man, told him that probably the offender might give his wife an

other visit, and if he did, commanded him immediately to repair to his tent and acquaint him with it. Accordingly, within two or three days the officer entered again the peasant's house, and turned the owner out of doors; who thereupon applied himself to the imperial tent, as he was ordered. The sultan went in person, with his guards, to the poor man's house, where he arrived about midnight. As the attendants carried each of them a flambeau in their hands, the sultan, after having ordered all the lights to be put out, gave the word to enter the house, find out the criminal, and put him to death. This was immediately executed, and the corpse laid out upon the floor by the emperor's command. He then bid every one light his flambeau, and stand about the dead body. The sultan approaching it, looked about the face, and immediately fell upon his knees in prayer. Upon his rising up, he ordered the peasant to set before him whatever food he had in his house. The peasant brought out a good deal of coarse fare, of which the emperor ate very heartily. The peasant seeing him in good humour, presumed to ask of him, why he had ordered the flambeaux to be put out before he had commanded the adulterer should be slain? Why, upon their being lighted again, he looked upon the face of the dead body, and fell down in prayer? And why, after this, he had ordered meat to be set before him, of which he now eat so heartily? The sultan being willing to gratify the curiosity of his host, answered him in this manner. Upon hearing the greatness

[ocr errors]

U

« AnteriorContinuar »