"Not long since[2] you were pleased to give us a chimerical account of the famous family of Staffs, from whence I suppose you would insinuate, that it is the most ancient and numerous house in all Europe. But I positively deny that it is either; and wonder much at your audacious proceedings in this matter, since it is well known, that our most illustrious, most renowned, and most celebrated Roman family of Ix, has enjoyed the precedency to all others from the reign of good old Saturn. I could say much to the defamation and disgrace of your family; as, that your relations Distaff and Broomstaff were both inconsiderate mean persons, one spinning, the other sweeping the streets, for their daily bread. But I forbear to vent my spleen on objects so much beneath my indignation. I shall only give the world a catalogue of my ancestors, and leave them to determine which hath hitherto had, and which for the future ought to have, the preference.
"First then comes the most famous and popular lady Meretrix, parent of the fertile family of Bellatrix, Lotrix, Netrix, Nutrix, Obstetrix, Famulatrix, Coctrix, Ornatrix, Sarcinatrix, Fextrix, Balneatrix, Portatrix, Saltatrix, Divinatrix, Conjectrix, Comtrix, Debitrix, Creditrix, Donatrix, Ambulatrix, Mercatrix, Adsectrix, Assectatrix, Palpatrix, Praeceptrix, Pistrix.
"I am yours,
[Footnote 1: This letter is introduced:
"From my own Apartment, June 29.
"It would be a very great obligation, and an assistance to my treatise upon punning, if any one would please to inform me in what class among the learned, who play with words, to place the author of the following letter."
The proposed work had been promised in the 32nd number of "The Tatler," where it was stated that, "I shall dedicate this discourse to a gentleman, my very good friend, who is the Janus of our times, and whom, by his years and wit, you would take to be of the last age; but by his dress and morals, of this." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: In the 11th number of "The Tatler," by Heneage Twisden. [T.S.]]
Will's Coffee-house, August 24.
The author of the ensuing letter, by his name, and the quotations he makes from the ancients, seems a sort of spy from the old world, whom we moderns ought to be careful of offending; therefore I must be free, and own it a fair hit where he takes me, rather than disoblige him.
"SIR, Having a peculiar humour of desiring to be somewhat the better or wiser for what I read, I am always uneasy when, in any profound writer (for I read no others) I happen to meet with what I cannot understand. When this falls out, it is a great grievance to me that I am not able to consult the author himself about his meaning; for commentators are a sect that has little share in my esteem. Your elaborate writings have, among many others, this advantage, that their author is still alive, and ready (as his extensive charity makes us expect) to explain whatever may be found in them too sublime for vulgar understandings. This, Sir, makes me presume to ask you, how the Hampstead hero's character could be perfectly new[1] when the last letters came away, and yet Sir John Suckling so well acquainted with it sixty years ago? I hope, Sir, you will not take this amiss: I can assure you, I have a profound respect for you; which makes me write this, with the same disposition with which Longinus bids us read Homer and Plato.
"'When in reading,' says he, 'any of those celebrated authors, we meet with a passage to which we cannot well reconcile our reasons, we ought firmly to believe, that were those great wits present to answer for themselves, we should to our wonder be convinced, that we only are guilty of the mistakes we before attributed to them.' If you think fit to remove the scruple that now torments me, it will be an encouragement to me to settle a frequent correspondence with you, several things falling in my way which would not, perhaps, be altogether foreign to your purpose, and whereon your thoughts would be very acceptable to
"Your most humble servant,
[Footnote 1: In No. 57 of "The Tatler" Steele wrote: "Letters from Hampstead say, there is a coxcomb arrived there, of a kind which is utterly new. The fellow has courage, which he takes himself to be obliged to give proofs of every hour he lives. He is ever fighting with the men, and contradicting the women. A lady, who sent him to me, superscribed him with this description out of Suckling:
The "description out of Suckling" is from that writer's rondeau, "A Soldier." As the poet died in 1642, Swift ridicules the statement that this kind of coxcomb was "utterly new." [T.S.]]
FROM THURSDAY SEPTEMBER I. TO SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 3, 1709. "SIR,[1]
"It must be allowed, that Esquire Bickerstaff is of all authors the most ingenuous. There are few, very few, that will own themselves in a mistake, though all the World sees them to be in downright nonsense. You'll be pleased, Sir, to pardon this expression, for the same reason for which you once desired us to excuse you when you seemed anything dull. Most writers, like the generality of Paul Lorrain's[2] saints, seem to place a peculiar vanity in dying hard. But you, Sir, to show a good example to your brethren, have not only confessed, but of your own accord mended the indictment. Nay, you have been so good-natured as to discover beauties in it, which, I will assure you, he that drew it never dreamed of: And to make your civility the more accomplished, you have honoured him with the title of your kinsman,[3] which, though derived by the left hand, he is not a little proud of. My brother (for such Obadiah is) being at present very busy about nothing, has ordered me to return you his sincere thanks for all these favours; and, as a small token of his gratitude, to communicate to you the following piece of intelligence, which, he thinks, belongs more properly to you than to any others of our modern historians.
"Madonella, who as it was thought had long since taken her flight towards the ethereal mansions, still walks, it seems, in the regions of mortality; where she has found, by deep reflections on the revolution[4] mentioned in yours of June the 23rd, that where early instructions have been wanting to imprint true ideas of things on the tender souls of those of her sex, they are never after able to arrive at such a pitch of perfection, as to be above the laws of matter and motion; laws which are considerably enforced by the principles usually imbibed in nurseries and boarding-schools. To remedy this evil, she has laid the scheme of a college for young damsels; where, instead of scissors, needles, and samplers; pens, compasses, quadrants, books, manuscripts, Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, are to take up their whole time. Only on holidays the students will, for moderate exercise, be allowed to divert themselves with the use of some of the lightest and most voluble weapons; and proper care will be taken to give them at least a superficial tincture of the ancient and modern Amazonian tactics. Of these military performances, the direction is undertaken by Epicene,[5] the writer of 'Memoirs from the Mediterranean,' who, by the help of some artificial poisons conveyed by smells, has within these few weeks brought many persons of both sexes to an untimely fate; and, what is more surprising, has, contrary to her profession, with the same odours, revived others who had long since been drowned in the whirlpools of Lethe. Another of the professors is to be a certain lady, who is now publishing two of the choicest Saxon novels[6], which are said to have been in as great repute with the ladies of Queen Emma's Court, as the 'Memoirs from the New Atalantis' are with those of ours. I shall make it my business to enquire into the progress of this learned institution, and give you the first notice of their 'Philosophical Transactions[7], and Searches after Nature.'
"Yours, &c.
[Footnote 1: This letter was introduced:
"From my own Apartment, September 2.
"The following letter being a panegyric upon me for a quality which every man may attain, an acknowledgment of his faults; I thought it for the good of my fellow writers to publish it." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: The Rev. Paul Lorrain was ordinary of Newgate Prison from 1698 until 1719. He issued the dying speeches and confessions of the condemned criminals in the form of broadsheets. In these confessions, the penitence of the criminals was most strongly emphasized, hence the term "Lorrain's saints." Lorrain died in 1719. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: Isaac Bickerstaff, commenting on the letter in No. 59, printed above, says: "I have looked over our pedigree upon the receipt of this epistle, and find the Greenhats are a-kin to the Staffs. They descend from Maudlin, the left-handed wife of Nehemiah Bickerstaff, in the reign of Harry II." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: See No. 32 ante. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: Mrs. Mary de la Rivière Manley, author of "Memoirs of Europe, towards the Close of the Eighth Century" (1710), which she dedicated to Isaac Bickerstaff, and of "Secret Memoirs and Manners ... from the New Atalantis" (1709). She was associated with Swift in the writing of several pamphlets In support of the Harley Administration, and in his work on "The Examiner" (see vol. v., pp. 41, 118, and 171 of the present edition of Swift's works).
Epicene is an allusion to Ben Jonson's comedy, "Epicoene; or, the Silent Woman" (1609).
Mrs. Manley seems to have credited Steele with this attack on her, for she attacked him, in turn, in her "New Atalantis," and printed, in her dedication to the "Memoirs of Europe," Steele's denial of the authorship of this paper. This did not, however, prevent her making new charges against him. "The Narrative of Guiscard's Examination," "A Comment on Dr. Hare's Sermon," and "The Duke of Marlborough's Vindication," were written either by herself, or at the suggestion of, and with instructions from, Swift. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 6: Mrs. Elizabeth Elstob (1683-1756), a niece of the learned Dr. Hickes, issued, in 1709, "An English-Saxon Homily on the Birthday of St. Gregory." The work was dedicated to Queen Anne. She was a friend of Mary Granville, afterwards Mrs. Pendarves, and better known as Mrs. Delany. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 7: An allusion to "Useful Transactions in Philosophy," etc., January and February, 1708/9, which commenced with an article entitled "An Essay on the Invention of Samplers," by Mrs. Arabella Manly (sic). She had a friend, Mrs. Betty Clavel. [T.S.]]
Wills Coffee-house, September 9.
We have been very much perplexed here this evening, by two gentlemen who took upon them to talk as loud as if it were expected from them to entertain the company. Their subject was eloquence and graceful action. Lysander, who is something particular in his way of thinking and speaking, told us, "a man could not be eloquent without action: for the deportment of the body, the turn of the eye, and an apt sound to every word that is uttered, must all conspire to make an accomplished speaker. Action in one that speaks in public, is the same thing which a good mien is in ordinary life. Thus, as a certain insensibility in the countenance recommends a sentence of humour and jest, so it must be a very lively consciousness that gives grace to great sentiments: For the jest is to be a thing unexpected; therefore your undesigning manner is a beauty in expressions of mirth; but when you are to talk on a set subject, the more you are moved yourself, the more you will move others.
"There is," said he, "a remarkable example of that kind: Aeschines, a famous orator of antiquity, had pleaded at Athens in a great cause against Demosthenes; but having lost it, retired to Rhodes. Eloquence was then the quality most admired among men; and the magistrates of that place having heard he had a copy of the speech of Demosthenes, desired him to repeat both their pleadings. After his own, he recited also the oration of his antagonist. The people expressed their admiration of both, but more of that of Demosthenes. 'If you are,' said he, 'thus touched with hearing only what that great orator said, how would you have been affected had you seen him speak? for he who hears Demosthenes only, loses much the better part of the oration.' Certain it is, that they who speak gracefully, are very lamely represented, in having their speeches read or repeated by unskilful people; for there is something native to each man, that is so inherent to his thoughts and sentiments, which it is hardly possible for another to give a true idea of. You may observe in common talk, when a sentence of any man's is repeated, an acquaintance of his shall immediately observe, 'That is so like him, methinks I see how he looked when he said it.' But of all the people on the earth, there are none who puzzle me so much as the clergy of Great Britain, who are, I believe, the most learned body of men now in the world; and yet this art of speaking, with the proper ornaments of voice and gesture, is wholly neglected among them; and I will engage, were a deaf man to behold the greater part of them preach, he would rather think they were reading the contents only of some discourse they intended to make, than actually in the body of an oration, even when they are upon matters of such a nature as one would believe it were impossible to think of without emotion.
"I own there are exceptions to this general observation, and that the Dean[1] we heard the other day together, is an orator. He has so much regard to his congregation, that he commits to his memory what he is to say to them; and has so soft and graceful a behaviour, that it must attract your attention. His person it is to be confessed is no small recommendation; but he is to be highly commended for not losing that advantage, and adding to the propriety of speech (which might pass the criticism of Longinus)[2] an action which would have been approved by Demosthenes. He has a peculiar force in his way, and has many of his audience[3] who could not be intelligent hearers of his discourse, were there not explanation as well as grace in his action. This art of his is used with the most exact and honest skill: he never attempts your passions, till he has convinced your reason. All the objections which he can form, are laid before you and dispersed, before he uses the least vehemence in his sermon; but when he thinks he has your head, he very soon wins your heart; and never pretends to show the beauty of holiness, till he has convinced you of the truth of it.
"Would every one of our clergymen be thus careful to recommend truth and virtue in their proper figures, and show so much concern for them as to give them all the additional force they were able, it is not possible that nonsense should have so many hearers as you find it has in dissenting congregations, for no reason in the world but because it is spoken extempore: For ordinary minds are wholly governed by their eyes and ears, and there is no way to come at their hearts but by power over their imagination. There is my friend and merry companion Daniel[4]: he knows a great deal better than he speaks, and can form a proper discourse as well as any orthodox neighbour. But he knows very well, that to bawl out, 'My beloved;' and the words 'grace! regeneration! sanctification! a new light! the day! The day! aye, my beloved, the day!' or rather, 'the night! The night is coming! and judgment will come, when we least think of it!'—and so forth—He knows, to be vehement is the only way to come at his audience; and Daniel, when he sees my friend Greenhat come in, can give him a good hint, and cry out, 'This is only for the saints! the regenerated!' By this force of action, though mixed with all the incoherence and ribaldry imaginable, Daniel can laugh at his diocesan, and grow fat by voluntary subscription, while the parson of the parish goes to law for half his dues. Daniel will tell you, 'It is not the shepherd, but the sheep with the bell, which the flock follows.' Another thing, very wonderful this learned body should omit, is, learning to read; which is a most necessary part of eloquence in one who is to serve at the altar: for there is no man but must be sensible, that the lazy tone, and inarticulate sound of our common readers, depreciates the most proper form of words that were ever extant in any nation or language, to speak our own wants, or His power from whom we ask relief.
"There cannot be a greater instance of the power of action than in little parson Dapper,[5] who is the common relief to all the lazy pulpits in town. This smart youth has a very good memory, a quick eye, and a clean handkerchief. Thus equipped, he opens his text, shuts his book fairly, shows he has no notes in his Bible, opens both palms, and shows all is fair there too. Thus, with a decisive air, my young man goes on without hesitation; and though from the beginning to the end of his pretty discourse, he has not used one proper gesture, yet at the conclusion, the churchwarden pulls his gloves from off his head; 'Pray, who is this extraordinary young man?' Thus the force of action is such, that it is more prevalent (even when improper) than all the reason and argument in the world without it." This gentleman concluded his discourse by saying, "I do not doubt but if our preachers would learn to speak, and our readers to read, within six months' time we should not have a dissenter within a mile of a church in Great Britain."
[Footnote 1: In his original preface to the fourth volume, Steele explains that "the amiable character of the Dean in the sixty-sixth 'Tatler,' was drawn for Dr. Atterbury." Steele cites this as a proof of his impartiality. Scott thinks that it must have cost him "some effort to permit insertion of a passage so favourable to a Tory divine." At the time the character was published Atterbury was Dean of Carlisle and one of the Queen's chaplains. He was later created Bishop of Rochester. There is no doubt that Atterbury was deeply implicated in the various Jacobite plots for the bringing in of the Pretender. Under a bill of pains and penalties he was condemned and deprived of all his ecclesiastical offices. In 1723 he left England and died in exile in 1732. His body, however, was privately buried in Westminster Abbey. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: "De Sublimitate," viii. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: For twenty years Atterbury was preacher at the chapel of Bridewell Hospital. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: Daniel Burgess (1645-1713), the son of a Wiltshire clergyman, was a schoolmaster in Ireland before he became minister to the Presbyterian meeting-house people in Brydges Street, Covent Garden. A chapel was built for him in New Court, Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn, and this was destroyed during the Sacheverell riots in 1710. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: Dr. Joseph Trapp (1679-1747), professor of poetry at Oxford, where he published his "Praelectiones Poeticae" (1711-15), He assisted Sacheverell and became a strong partisan of the High Church party. Swift thought very little of him. To Stella he writes, he is "a sort of pretender to wit, a second-rate pamphleteer for the cause, whom they pay by sending him to Ireland" (January 7th, 1710/1, see vol. ii., p. 96). This sending to Ireland refers to his chaplaincy to Sir Constantine Phipps, Lord Chancellor of Ireland (1710-12). On July 17th, 1712, Swift again speaks of him to Stella: "I have made Trap chaplain to Lord Bolingbroke, and he is mighty happy and thankful for it" (ibid., p. 379). Trapp afterwards held several preferments in and near London. [T.S.]]
From my own Apartment, September 12.
No man can conceive, till he comes to try it, how great a pain it is to be a public-spirited person. I am sure I am unable to express to the world, how much anxiety I have suffered, to see of how little benefit my Lucubrations have been to my fellow-subjects. Men will go on in their own way in spite of all my labour. I gave Mr. Didapper a private reprimand for wearing red-heeled shoes, and at the same time was so indulgent as to connive at him for fourteen days, because I would give him the wearing of them out; but after all this I am informed, he appeared yesterday with a new pair of the same sort. I have no better success with Mr. Whatdee'call[1] as to his buttons: Stentor[2] still roars; and box and dice rattle as loud as they did before I writ against them. Partridge[3] walks about at noon-day, and Aesculapius[4] thinks of adding a new lace to his livery. However, I must still go on in laying these enormities before men's eyes, and let them answer for going on in their practice.[5] My province is much larger than at first sight men would imagine, and I shall lose no part of my jurisdiction, which extends not only to futurity, but also is retrospect to things past; and the behaviour of persons who have long ago acted their parts, is as much liable to my examination, as that of my own contemporaries.
In order to put the whole race of mankind in their proper distinctions, according to the opinion their cohabitants conceived of them, I have with very much care, and depth of meditation, thought fit to erect a Chamber of Fame, and established certain rules, which are to be observed in admitting members into this illustrious society. In this Chamber of Fame there are to be three tables, but of different lengths; the first is to contain exactly twelve persons; the second, twenty; the third, an hundred. This is reckoned to be the full number of those who have any competent share of fame. At the first of these tables are to be placed in their order the twelve most famous persons in the world, not with regard to the things they are famous for, but according to the degree of their fame, whether in valour, wit, or learning. Thus if a scholar be more famous than a soldier, he is to sit above him. Neither must any preference be given to virtue, if the person be not equally famous. When the first table is filled, the next in renown must be seated at the second, and so on in like manner to the number of twenty; as also in the same order at the third, which is to hold an hundred. At these tables no regard is to be had to seniority: for if Julius Caesar shall be judged more famous than Romulus and Scipio, he must have the precedence. No person who has not been dead an hundred years, must be offered to a place at any of these tables: and because this is altogether a lay society, and that sacred persons move upon greater motives than that of fame, no persons celebrated in Holy Writ, or any ecclesiastical men whatsoever, are to be introduced here.
At the lower end of the room is to be a side-table for persons of great fame, but dubious existence, such as Hercules, Theseus, Aeneas, Achilles, Hector, and others. But because it is apprehended, that there may be great contention about precedence, the proposer humbly desires the opinion of the learned towards his assistance in placing every person according to his rank, that none may have just occasion of offence.
The merits of the cause shall be judged by plurality of voices.
For the more impartial execution of this important affair, it is desired, that no man will offer his favourite hero, scholar, or poet; and that the learned will be pleased to send to Mr. Bickerstaff, at Mr. Morphew's near Stationers' Hall, their several lists for the first table only, and in the order they would have them placed; after which, the composer will compare the several lists, and make another for the public, wherein every name shall be ranked according to the voices it has had. Under this chamber is to be a dark vault for the same number of persons of evil fame.
It is humbly submitted to consideration, whether the project would not be better, if the persons of true fame meet in a middle room, those of dubious existence in an upper room, and those of evil fame in a lower dark room.
It is to be noted, that no historians are to be admitted at any of these tables, because they are appointed to conduct the several persons to their seats, and are to be made use of as ushers to the assemblies.
I call upon the learned world to send me their assistance towards this design, it being a matter of too great moment for any one person to determine. But I do assure them, their lists shall be examined with great fidelity, and those that are exposed to the public, made with all the caution imaginable.
[Footnote 1: "N.B. Mr. How'd'call is desired to leave off those buttons."—No. 21. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: Dr. William Stanley (1647-1731), master of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, was Dean of St. Asaph in 1706-31. In No. 54 of "The Tatler," he is described as a person "accustomed to roar and bellow so terribly loud in the responses that . . . one of our petty canons, a punning Cambridge scholar, calls his way of worship a Bull-offering." In the sixty-first number a further reference is made to him: "A person of eminent wit and piety [Dr. R. South] wrote to Stentor: 'Brother Stentor,' said he, 'for the repose of the Church, hearken to Bickerstaff; and consider that, while you are so devout at St. Paul's, we cannot sleep for you at St. Peter's.'" [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: John Partridge (1644-1715) cobbler, philomath, and quack, was the author of "Merlinus Liberatus," first issued in 1680. He libelled his master, John Gadbury, in his "Nebulo Anglicanus" (1693), and quarrelled with George Parker, a fellow-quack and astrologer. It is of him that Swift wrote his famous "Predictions" (see vol. i. of this edition, p. 298), and issued his broadside, concluding with the lines:
In No. 59 of "The Tatler," his death is referred to in harmony with the tone of Swift's fun: "The late Partridge, who still denies his death. I am informed indeed by several that he walks." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: The famous Dr. John Radcliffe (1650-1714) who refused the appointment of physician to King William III., and offended Anne by his churlish disregard of her requests to attend on her. He fell in love with a Miss Tempest, one of Queen Anne's maids of honour. In the 44th number of "The Tatler" Steele ridicules this attachment by making him address his mistress in the following words: "O fair! for thee I sit amidst a crowd of painted deities on my chariot, buttoned in gold, clasped in gold, without having any value for that beloved metal, but as it adorns the person and laces the hat of thy dying lover." Radcliffe attended Swift for his dizziness, but that did not prevent the latter from referring to him as "that puppy," in writing to Stella, for neglecting to attend to Harley's wound. He seems to have had a high standing for skill as a physician, and probably on that account gave himself airs. It is told of him that "during a long attendance in the family of a particular friend, he regularly refused the fee pressed upon him at each visit. At length, when the cure was performed, and the doctor about to give up attendance, the convalescent patient again proffered him a purse containing the fees for every day's visit. The doctor eyed it some time in silence, and at length extended his hand, exclaiming, 'Singly, I could have refused them for ever; but altogether they are irresistible.'" Radcliffe died at Carshalton in 1714. From his bequests were founded the Radcliffe Infirmary and Observatory at Oxford. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: Scott omits, from his edition, the whole of this paragraph up to this point. [T.S.]]
From my own Apartment, September 14.
The progress of our endeavours will of necessity be very much interrupted, except the learned world will please to send their lists to the Chamber of Fame with all expedition. There is nothing can so much contribute to create a noble emulation in our youth, as the honourable mention of such whose actions have outlived the injuries of time, and recommended themselves so far to the world, that it is become learning to know the least circumstance of their affairs. It is a great incentive to see, that some men have raised themselves so highly above their fellow-creatures; that the lives of ordinary men are spent in inquiries after the particular actions of the most illustrious. True it is, that without this impulse to fame and reputation, our industry would stagnate, and that lively desire of pleasing each other die away. This opinion was so established in the heathen world, that their sense of living appeared insipid, except their being was enlivened with a consciousness, that they were esteemed by the rest of the world.
Upon examining the proportion of men's fame for my table of twelve, I thought it no ill way, since I had laid it down for a rule, that they were to be ranked simply as they were famous, without regard to their virtue, to ask my sister Jenny's advice, and particularly mentioned to her the name of Aristotle. She immediately told me, he was a very great scholar, and that she had read him at the boarding-school. She certainly means a trifle sold by the hawkers, called, "Aristotle's Problems." [1] But this raised a great scruple in me, whether a fame increased by imposition of others is to be added to his account, or that these excrescencies, which grow out of his real reputation, and give encouragement to others to pass things under the covert of his name, should be considered in giving him his seat in the Chamber? This punctilio is referred to the learned. In the mean time, so ill-natured are mankind, that I believe I have names already sent me sufficient to fill up my lists for the dark room, and every one is apt enough to send in their accounts of ill deservers. This malevolence does not proceed from a real dislike of virtue, but a diabolical prejudice against it, which makes men willing to destroy what they care not to imitate. Thus you see the greatest characters among your acquaintance, and those you live with, are traduced by all below them in virtue, who never mention them but with an exception. However, I believe I shall not give the world much trouble about filling my tables for those of evil fame, for I have some thoughts of clapping up the sharpers there as fast as I can lay hold of them.
At present, I am employed in looking over the several notices which I have received of their manner of dexterity, and the way at dice of making all rugg, as the cant is. The whole art of securing a die has lately been sent me by a person who was of the fraternity, but is disabled by the loss of a finger, by which means he cannot, as he used to do, secure a die. But I am very much at a loss how to call some of the fair sex, who are accomplices with the Knights of Industry; for my metaphorical dogs[2] are easily enough understood; but the feminine gender of dogs has so harsh a sound, that we know not how to name it. But I am credibly informed, that there are female dogs as voracious as the males, and make advances to young fellows, without any other design but coming to a familiarity with their purses. I have also long lists of persons of condition, who are certainly of the same regiment with these banditti, and instrumental to their cheats upon undiscerning men of their own rank. These add their good reputation to carry on the impostures of those, whose very names would otherwise be defence enough against falling into their hands. But for the honour of our nation, these shall be unmentioned, provided we hear no more of such practices, and that they shall not from henceforward suffer the society of such, as they know to be the common enemies of order, discipline, and virtue. If it prove that they go on in encouraging them, they must be proceeded against according to severest rules of history, where all is to be laid before the world with impartiality, and without respect to persons.
"So let the stricken deer go weep."[3]
[Footnote 1: This was not a translation of Aristotle's "Problemata," but an indecent pamphlet with that title. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: In the 62nd number of "The Tatler" Steele wrote a paper comparing some of the pests of society, such as the gamblers, to dogs, and said: "It is humbly proposed that they may be all together transported to America, where the dogs are few, and the wild beasts many." Scott notes that when one of the fraternity referred to threatened Steele with personal vengeance, Lord Forbes silenced him with these words: "You will find it safer, sir, in this country, to cut a purse than to cut a throat." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: "Why, let the stricken deer go weep."—Hamlet, iii. 2. [T.S.]]
"I read with great pleasure in the Tatler[2] of Saturday last the conversation upon eloquence; permit me to hint to you one thing the great Roman orator observes upon this subject, Caput enim arbitrabatur oratoris, (he quotes Menedemus[3] an Athenian) ut ipsis apud quos ageret talis qualem ipse optaret videretur, id fieri vitae dignitate.[4] It is the first rule, in oratory, that a man must appear such as he would persuade others to be, and that can be accomplished only by the force of his life. I believe it might be of great service to let our public orators know, that an unnatural gravity, or an unbecoming levity in their behaviour out of the pulpit, will take very much from the force of their eloquence in it. Excuse another scrap of Latin; it is from one of the Fathers: I think it will appear a just observation to all, as it may have authority with some; Qui autem docent tantum, nec faciunt, ipsi praeceptis suis detrahunt pondus; Quis enim obtemperet, cum ipsi praeceptores doceant non obtemperare?[5] I am,
"Your humble servant,
"P.S. You were complaining in that paper, that the clergy of Great-Britain had not yet learned to speak; a very great defect indeed; and therefore I shall think myself a well-deserver of the church in recommending all the dumb clergy to the famous speaking doctor[6] at Kensington. This ingenious gentleman, out of compassion to those of a bad utterance, has placed his whole study in the new-modelling the organs of voice; which art he has so far advanced, as to be able even to make a good orator of a pair of bellows. He lately exhibited a specimen of his skill in this way, of which I was informed by the worthy gentlemen then present, who were at once delighted and amazed to hear an instrument of so simple an organization use an exact articulation of words, a just cadency in its sentences, and a wonderful pathos in its pronunciation; not that he designs to expatiate in this practice, because he cannot (as he says) apprehend what use it may be of to mankind, whose benefit he aims at in a more particular manner: and for the same reason, he will never more instruct the feathered kind, the parrot having been his last scholar in that way. He has a wonderful faculty in making and mending echoes, and this he will perform at any time for the use of the solitary in the country, being a man born for universal good, and for that reason recommended to your patronage by, Sir, yours,
[Footnote 1: This letter appears under the heading: "From my own Apartment, September 19." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: See "The Tatler," No. 66, ante. [T. S,]]
[Footnote 3: An Athenian rhetorician who died in Rome about 100 B.C. [T. S.]]
[Footnote 4: The quotation is not quite correctly given. It is taken from Cicero, De Oratore, i. 19 (87). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: "But those who teach, and do not live in accordance with their own instructions, take away all the weight from their teaching; for who will comply with their precepts, when the teachers themselves teach us not to obey them?" [T.S.]]
[Footnote 6: James Ford proposed to cure stammerers and even restore speech to mutes. In the second volume of "The British Apollo" he is referred to as having "not only recovered several who stammered to a regular speech, but also brought the deaf and dumb to speak." [T.S.]]
"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 of 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 100 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 but once to the sick, except they return his visit."
[Footnote 1: This letter is dated as from Will's Coffee-house, September 20. [T.S.]]
FROM TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 26. TO THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 28. 1710.
From my own Apartment, September 27.[1]
The following letter has laid before me many great and manifest evils in the world of letters[2] which I had overlooked; but they open to me a very busy scene, and it will require no small care and application to amend errors which are become so universal. The affectation of politeness is exposed in this epistle with a great deal of wit and discernment; so that whatever discourses I may fall into hereafter upon the subjects the writer treats of, I shall at present lay the matter before the World without the least alteration from the words of my correspondent.
"There are some abuses among us of great consequence, the reformation of which is properly your province, though, as far as I have been conversant in your papers, you have not yet considered them. These are, the deplorable ignorance that for some years hath reigned among our English writers, the great depravity of our taste, and the continual corruption of our style. I say nothing here of those who handle particular sciences, divinity, law, physic, and the like; I mean, the traders in history and politics, and the belles lettres; together with those by whom books are not translated, but (as the common expressions are) 'done out of French, Latin,' or other language, and 'made English.' I cannot but observe to you, that till of late years a Grub-Street book was always bound in sheepskin, with suitable print and paper, the price never above a shilling, and taken off wholly by common tradesmen, or country pedlars, but now they appear in all sizes and shapes, and in all places. They are handed about from lapfuls in every coffeehouse to persons of quality, are shewn in Westminster-Hall and the Court of Requests. You may see them gilt, and in royal paper, of five or six hundred pages, and rated accordingly. I would engage to furnish you with a catalogue of English books published within the compass of seven years past, which at the first hand would cost you a hundred pounds, wherein you shall not be able to find ten lines together of common grammar or common sense.
"These two evils, ignorance and want of taste, have produced a third; I mean, the continual corruption of our English tongue, which, without some timely remedy, will suffer more by the false refinements of twenty years past, than it hath been improved in the foregoing hundred: And this is what I design chiefly to enlarge upon, leaving the former evils to your animadversion.
"But instead of giving you a list of the late refinements crept into our language, I here send you the copy of a letter I received some time ago from a most accomplished person in this way of writing, upon which I shall make some remarks. It is in these terms.
"'I couldn't get the things you sent for all about Town.—I thôt to ha' come down myself, and then I'd ha' brôut 'umn; but I han't don't, and I believe I can't do't, that's pozz.—Tom[3] begins to gi'mself airs because he's going with the plenipo's.—'Tis said, the French King will bamboozl us agen, which causes many speculations. The Jacks, and others of that kidney, are very uppish, and alert upon't, as you may see by their phizz's.—Will Hazzard has got the hipps, having lost to the tune of five hundr'd pound, thô he understands play very well, nobody better. He has promis't me upon rep, to leave off play; but you know 'tis a weakness he's too apt to give into, thô he has as much wit as any man, nobody more. He has lain incog ever since.—The mobb's very quiet with us now.—I believe you thôt I bantered you in my last like a country put.—I sha'n't leave Town this month, &c.'
"This letter is in every point an admirable pattern of the present polite way of writing; nor is it of less authority for being an epistle. You may gather every flower in it, with a thousand more of equal sweetness, from the books, pamphlets, and single papers, offered us every day in the coffeehouses: And these are the beauties introduced to supply the want of wit, sense, humour, and learning, which formerly were looked upon as qualifications for a writer. If a man of wit, who died forty years ago, were to rise from the grave on purpose, how would he be able to read this letter? And after he had gone through that difficulty, how would he be able to understand it? The first thing that strikes your eye is the breaks at the end of almost every sentence; of which I know not the use, only that it is a refinement, and very frequently practised. Then you will observe the abbreviations and elisions, by which consonants of most obdurate sound are joined together, without one softening vowel to intervene; and all this only to make one syllable of two, directly contrary to the example of the Greeks and Romans; altogether of the Gothic strain, and a natural tendency towards relapsing into barbarity, which delights in monosyllables, and uniting of mute consonants; as it is observable in all the Northern languages. And this is still more visible in the next refinement, which consists in pronouncing the first syllable in a word that has many, and dismissing the rest; such as phizz, hipps, mobb,[4] poz., rep. and many more; when we are already overloaded with monosyllables, which are the disgrace of our language. Thus we cram one syllable, and cut off the rest; as the owl fattened her mice, after she had bit off their legs to prevent their running away; and if ours be the same reason for maiming words, it will certainly answer the end; for I am sure no other Nation will desire to borrow them. Some words are hitherto but fairly split, and therefore only in their way to perfection, as incog and plenipo: But in a short time it is to be hoped they will be further docked to inc and plen. This reflection has made me of late years very impatient for a peace, which I believe would save the lives of many brave words, as well as men. The war has introduced abundance of polysyllables, which will never be able to live many more campaigns; Speculations, operations, preliminaries, ambassadors, palisadoes, communication, circumvallation, battalions, as numerous as they are, if they attack us too frequently in our coffeehouses, we shall certainly put them to flight, and cut off the rear.
"The third refinement observable in the letter I send you, consists in the choice of certain words invented by some pretty fellows; such as banter, bamboozle, country put, and kidney, as it is there applied; some of which are now struggling for the vogue, and others are in possession of it. I have done my utmost for some years past to stop the progress of mobb and banter, but have been plainly borne down by numbers, and betrayed by those who promised to assist me.
"In the last place, you are to take notice of certain choice phrases scattered through the letter; some of them tolerable enough, till they were worn to rags by servile imitators. You might easily find them, though they were not in a different print, and therefore I need not disturb them.
"These are the false refinements in our style which you ought to correct: First, by argument and fair means; but if those fail, I think you are to make use of your authority as Censor, and by an annual index expurgatorius expunge all words and phrases that are offensive to good sense, and condemn those barbarous mutilations of vowels and syllables. In this last point the usual pretence is, that they spell as they speak; a noble standard for language! to depend upon the caprice of every coxcomb, who, because words are the clothing of our thoughts, cuts them out, and shapes them as he pleases, and changes them oftener than his dress. I believe, all reasonable people would be content that such refiners were more sparing in their words, and liberal in their syllables: And upon this head I should be glad you would bestow some advice upon several young readers in our churches, who coming up from the University, full fraught with admiration of our Town politeness, will needs correct the style of their Prayer-Books. In reading the absolution, they are very careful to say "Pardons and absolves;" and in the Prayer for the Royal Family, it must be, endue'um, enrich'um, prosper'um, and bring'um.[5] Then in their sermons they use all the modern terms of art, sham, banter, mob, bubble, bully, cutting shuffling, and palming, all which, and many more of the like stamp, as I have heard them often in the pulpit from such young sophisters, so I have read them in some of those sermons that have made most noise of late. The design, it seems, is to avoid the dreadful imputation of pedantry, to shew us, that they know the Town, understand men and manners, and have not been poring upon old unfashionable books in the University.
"I should be glad to see you the instrument of introducing into our style that simplicity which is the best and truest ornament of most things in life, which the politer ages always aimed at in their building and dress, (simplex munditiis) as well as their productions of wit. It is manifest, that all new, affected modes of speech, whether borrowed from the Court, the Town, or the theatre, are the first perishing parts in any language, and, as I could prove by many hundred instances, have been so in ours. The writings of Hooker,[6] who was a country clergyman, and of Parsons[7] the Jesuit, both in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, are in a style that, with very few allowances, would not offend any present reader; much more clear and intelligible than those of Sir H. Wotton,[8]Sir Robert Naunton,[9] Osborn,[10] Daniel[11] the historian, and several others who writ later; but being men of the Court, and affecting the phrases then in fashion, they are often either not to be understood, or appear perfectly ridiculous.
"What remedies are to be applied to these evils I have not room to consider, having, I fear, already taken up most of your paper. Besides, I think it is our office only to represent abuses, and yours to redress them.
"I am, with great respect, Sir,
"Your, &c."
[Footnote 1: In his "Journal to Stella," Swift writes, under date, September 18th, 1710: "Came to town; got home early, and began a letter to 'The Tatler' about the corruptions of style and writing, &c." On September 23rd, he writes again: "I have sent a long letter to Bickerstaff; let the Bp. of Clogher smoke if he can." Again on September 29th: "I made a 'Tatler' since I came; guess which it is, and whether the Bp. Of Clogher smokes it." On October 1st, he asks Stella: "Have you smoked the 'Tatler' that I writ? It is much liked here, and I think it a pure one." On the 14th of the same month he refers still again to the paper which had evidently pleased him: "The Bp. of Clogher has smoked my 'Tatler' about shortening of words," etc. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: Compare Swift's "Proposal for Correcting the English Tongue." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: Thomas Harley, cousin of the first Earl of Oxford. He was Secretary of the Treasury, and afterwards minister at Hanover. He died in 1737. (T.S.)]
[Footnote 4: It is interesting to note that Swift, who insisted that the word "mob" should never be used for "rabble," wrote "mob" in the 15th number of "The Examiner," and in Faulkner's reprint of 1741 the word was changed to "rabble." Scott notes: "The Dean carried on the war against the word 'mob' to the very last. A lady who died in 1788, and was well known to Swift, used to say that the greatest scrape into which she got with him was by using the word 'mob.' 'Why do you say that?' said he, in a passion; 'never let me hear you say that word again.' 'Why, sir,' said she, 'what am I to say?' 'The "rabble," to be sure,' answered he." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5.] See Swift's Letter to the Earl of Pembroke (Scott's edition, vol. xv., p. 350) where a little more fun is poked at the Bishop of Clogher, in the same strain. [T.S.]
[Footnote 6: The great Richard Hooker (1554-1600) author of the "Ecclesiastical Polity." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 7: Robert Parsons (1546-1610) the famous Jesuit missionary, and the author of a large number of works including the "Conference about the next Succession" (1594). Several of his books were privately printed by him at a secret printing press, which he set up in East Ham with the assistance of the poet Campion. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 8: Sir Henry Wotton (1568-1639) author of "Reliquiae Wottonianae," and the friend of John Donne. He was Provost of Eton from 1624 until his death, and distinguished himself as a diplomatist. To him is ascribed the saying: "An ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 9: Sir Robert Naunton (1563-1635), Secretary of State in 1618, and author of "Fragmenta Regalia" published in 1641. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 10: Francis Osborne (1593-1659) wrote "Advice to a Son" (1656-58), a work that gave him a great reputation. This work was issued with his other writings in a collected form in 1673. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 11: Samuel Daniel (1562-1619) is said to have succeeded Spenser as poet-laureate. In addition to his plays and poems (including a history of the Civil Wars in eight books, 1595-1609) he wrote a History of England, in two parts (1612-1617). [T.S.]]