Mr. Sage. I have never read of a duel among the Romans, and yet their nobility used more liberty with their tongues than one may do now without being challenged. the time of arrest, and sufficient witnesses of | sword, was not (I conceive) for want of courage his being carried into goal; and has, by advice in the latter, nor of a liberal education; because of the recorder of Oxford, brought his action; there were some of the best families in England and we doubt not but we shall pay them off engaged in that party: but gallantry and mode, with damages, and blemish the reputation of which glitter agreeably to the imagination, Mr. Broad. We have one convincing proof, were encouraged by the court, as promoting which all that frequent the courts of justice are its splendour; and it was as natural that the witnesses of the dog that comes constantly to contrary party (who were to recommend them. Westminster on the first day of the term, did selves to the public for men of serious and not appear until the first day according to the solid parts) should deviate from every thing Oxford almanack; whose instinct I take to be chimerical. a better guide than men's erroneous opinions, which are usually biassed by interest. I judge in this case, as king Charles the Second victualled his navy with the bread which one of his dogs chose of several pieces thrown before him, rather than trust to the asseverations of the victuallers. Mr. Cowper, and other learned counsel, have already urged the authority of this almanack, in behalf of their clients. We shall, therefore, go on with all speed in our cause; and doubt not but chancery will give at the end what we lost in the beginning, by protracting the term for us until Wednesday come seven-night. And the University Orator shall for ever pray, &c. From my own Apartment, July 7. The subject of duels has, I find, been started with so good success, that it has been the frequent subject of conversation among polite men; and a dialogue of that kind has been transmitted to me verbatim as follows. The persons concerned in it are men of honour and experience in the manners of men, and have fallen upon the truest foundation, as well as searched the bottom of this evil. Mr. Sage. If it were in my power, every man that drew his sword, unless in the service, or purely to defend his life, person, or goods, from violence (I mean abstracted from all punctoes or whims of honour) should ride the wooden horse in the Tilt-yard for such first offence; for the second, stand in the pillory; and for the third, be prisoner in Bedlam for life. Col. Plume. I remember that a rencounter or duel was so far from being in fashion among the officers that served in the parliament-army, that on the contrary it was as disreputable, and as great an impediment to advancement in the service, as being bashful in time of action. Sir Mark. Yet I have been informed by some old cavaliers, of famous reputation for brave and gallant men, that they were much more in mode among their party than they have been during this last war. Col. Plume. That is true too, sir. Mr. Sage. By what you say, gentlemen, one should think that our present military officers are compounded of an equal proportion of both those tempers; since duels are neither quite discountenanced, nor much in vogue. Sir Mark. That difference of temper in regard to duels, which appears to have prevailed between the court and the parliament-men of the Sir Mark. Perhaps the Romans were of opinion, that ill-language and brutal manners reflected only on those who were guilty of them; and that a man's reputation was not at all cleared by cutting the person's throat who had reflected upon it: but the custom of those times had fixed the scandal in the action; whereas now it lies in the reproach. Mr. Sage. And yet the only sort of duel that one can conceive to have been fought upon motives truly honourable and allowable, was that between the Horatii and Curiatii. Sir Mark. Colonel Plume, pray what was the method of single combat in your time among the cavaliers? I suppose, that as the use of clothes continues, though the fashion of them has been mutable; so duels, though still in use, have had in all times their particular modes of performance. Col. Plume. We had no constant rule, but generally conducted our dispute and tilt according to the last that had happened between persons of reputation among the very top fellows for bravery and gallantry. Sir Mark. If the fashion of quarrelling and tilting was so often changed in your time, colonel Plume, a man might fight, yet lose his credit for want of understanding the fashion. Col. Plume. Why, sir Mark, in the begin ning of July a man would have been censured for want of courage, or been thought indigent of the true notions of honour, if he had put up with words, which, in the end of September following, one could not resent without passing for a brutal and quarrelsome fellow. Sir Mark. But, colonel, were duels or rencounters most in fashion in those days? Col. Plame. Your men of nice honour, sir, were for avoiding all censure of advantage which they supposed might be taken in a rencounter; therefore they used seconds who were to see that all was upon the square, and make a faithful report of the whole combat; but in a little time it became a fashion for the seconds to fight; and I will tell you how it happened. Mr. Sage. Pray do, colonel Plume, and the method of a duel at that time; and give us some notion of the punctoes upon which your nice men quarrelled in those days. Col. Plume. I was going to tell you, Mr. Sage, that one cornet Modish had desired his friend captain Smart's opinion in some affair, but did not follow it; upon which captain Smart name, at that time a celebrated counsellor, and after- sent major Adroit (a very topping fellow of those times) to the person that had slighted his *Spencer Cowper, brother to the first earl of the wards chief justice of the common pleas. advice. The major never inquired into the quarrel, because it was not the manner then among the very topping fellows; but got two swords of an equal length, and then waited upon cornet Modish, desiring him to choose his sword, and meet his friend captain Smart. Cornet Modish came with his friend to the place of combat; there the principals put on their pumps, and stripped to their shirts, to show that they had nothing but what men of honour carry about them, and then engaged. Sir Mark. And did the seconds stand by, sir? Col. Plume. It was a received custom until that time; but the swords of those days being pretty long, and the principals acting on both sides upon the defensive, and the morning being frosty, major Adroit desired that the other second, who was also a very topping fellow, would try a thrust or two, only to keep them warm, until the principals had decided the matter, which was agreed to by Modish's second, who presently whipt Adroit through the body, disarmed him, and then parted the principals, who had received no harm at all. Mr. Sage. But was not Adroit laughed at? Col. Plume. On the contrary, the very topping fellows were ever after of opinion, that no man, who deserves that character, could serve as a second, without fighting; and the Smarts and Modishes finding their account in it, the humour took without opposition. Mr. Sage. Pray, colonel, how long did that fashion continue? adroit strong man had insulted an awkward or a feeble, or an unpractised swordsman? Col. Plume. Then, sir, they fought with pistols. Mr. Sage. But, sir, there might be a certain advantage that way; for a good marksman will be sure to hit his man at twenty yards distance; and a man whose hand shakes (which is common to men that debauch in pleasures, or have not used pistols out of their holsters) will not venture to fire, unless he touches the person he shoots at. Now, sir, I am of opinion, that one can get no honour in killing a man, if one has it all rug, as the gamesters say, when they have a trick to make the game secure, though they seem to play upon the square. Sir Mark. In truth, Mr. Sage, I think such a fact must be murder in a man's own private conscience, whatever it may appear to the world. Col. Plume. I have known some men so nice that they would not fight but upon a cloak with pistols. Mr. Sage. I believe a custom well established would outdo the grand monarch's edict. Sir Mark. And bullies would then leave off their long swords. But I do not find that a very pretty fellow can stay to change his sword when he is insulted by a bully with a long diego; though his own at the same time be no longer than a pen-knife; which will certainly be the case if such little swords are in mode. Pray, colonel, how was it between the hectors of your time, and the very topping fellows? Col. Plume. Sir, long swords happened to be generally worn in those times. Col. Plume. Not long neither, Mr. Sage; for as soon as it became a fashion, the very topping fellows thought their honour reflected upon, if they did not proffer themselves as seconds when any of their friends had a quarrel, so that some-ing, sir Mark, give me leave to inform you, times there were a dozen of a side. Sir Mark. Bless me! if that custom had continued, we should have been at a loss now for our very pretty fellows; for they seem to be the proper men to officer, animate, and keep up an army. But, pray, sir, how did that sociable manner of tilting grow out of mode? Col. Plume. Why, sir, I will tell you: it was a law among the combatants, that the party which happened to have the first man disarmed or killed, should yield as vanquished: which some people thought might encourage the Modishes and Smarts in quarrelling to the destruction of only the very topping fellows; and as soon as this reflection was started, the very topping fellows thought it an incumbrance upon their honour to fight at all themselves. Since that time the Modishes and the Smarts, throughout all Europe, have extolled the French king's edirt. Sir Mark. Our very pretty fellows, whom I take to be the successors of the very topping fellows, think a quarrel so little fashionable, that they will not be exposed to it by any other man's vanity, or want of sense. Mr. Sage. But, colonel, I have observed in your accounts of duels, that there was a great exactness in avoiding all advantage that might possibly be between the combatants. Col. Plume. That is true, sir; for the weapons were always equal. Mr. Sage. Yes, sir; but suppose an active Mr. Sage. In answer to what you were say. that your knights-errant (who were the very pretty fellows of those ancient times) thought they could not honourably yield, though they had fought their own trusty weapons to the stumps; but would venture as boldly with the page's leaden sword, as if it had been of enchanted metal. Whence I conceive, there must be a spice of romantic gallantry in the composition of that very pretty fellow. Sir Mark. I am of opinion, Mr. Sage, that fashion governs a very pretty fellow; nature or common sense, your ordinary persons, and sometimes men of fine parts. Mr. Sage. But what is the reason that men of the most excellent sense and morals, in other points, associate their understandings with the very pretty fellows in that chimera of a duel? Sir Mark. There is no disputing against so great a majority. Mr. Sage. But there is one scruple, colonel Plume, and I have done. Do not you believe there may be some advantage even upon a cloak with pistols, which a man of nice honour would scruple to take? Col. Plume. Faith, I cannot tell, sir; but since one may reasonably suppose that, in such a case, there can be but one so far in the wrong as to occasion matters to come to that extremity, I think the chance of being killed should fall but on one; whereas, by their close and desperate manner of fighting, it may very probably happen to both. LETTERS from the city of London give an account of a very great consternation that place is in at present, by reason of a late inquiry made at Guildhall whether a noble person has parts enough to deserve the enjoyment of the great estate of which he is possessed?* The city is apprehensive, that this precedent may go farther than was at first imagined. The person against whom this inquisition is set up by his relations, is a peer of a neighbouring kingdom, and has in his youth made some few bulls, by which it is insinuated, that he has forfeited his goods and chattels. This is the more astonishing, in that there are many persons in the said city who are still more guilty than his lordship, and who, though they are idiots, do not only possess, but have also them. selves acquired great estates, contrary to the known laws of this realm, which vests their possessions in the crown. There is. a gentleman in the coffee-house at this time exhibiting a bill in chancery against his father's younger brother, who, by some strange magic, has arrived at the value of half a plumb, as the citizens call a hundred thou. sand pounds; and in all the time of growing up to that wealth, was never known in any of his ordinary words or actions to discover any proof of reason. Upon this foundation my friend has set forth, that he is illegally master of his coffers, and has writ two epigrams to signify his own pretensions and sufficiency for spending that estate. He has inserted in his plea some things which I fear will give offence; for he pretends to argue, that though a man has a little of the knave mixed with the fool, he is nevertheless liable to the loss of goods; and makes the abuse of reason as just an avoidance of an estate as the total absence of it. This is what can never pass; but witty men are so full of themselves, that there is no persuading them; and my friend will not be convinced, but that upon quoting Solomon, who always used the word fool as a term of the same signification with unjust, and makes all deviation from goodness and virtue to come under the notion of folly; I say, he doubts not, but by the force of this authority, let his idiot uncle appear never so great a knave, he shall prove him a fool at the same time. This affair led the company here into an examination of these points; and none coming * Richard, the fifth viscount Wenman. here but wits, what was asserted by a young less wicked? We see old age brings us indif There is something very fantastical in the distribution of civil power and capacity among into the ward and care of the crown, because men. The law certainly gives these persons that is best able to protect them from injuries, and the impositions of craft and knavery; that the life of an idiot may not ruin the entail of a noble house, and his weakness may not frustrate the industry or capacity of the founder of his family. But when one of bright parts, as we say, with his eyes open, and all men's eyes upon him destroys those purposes, there is no remedy. Folly and ignorance are punished! folly and guilt are tolerated! Mr. Locke has somewhere made a distinction between a madman and a fool: a fool is he that from right principles makes a wrong conclusion; but a madman is one who draws a just inference from Thus the fool who cut off the false principles. fellow's head that lay asleep, and hid it, and then waited to see what he would say when he awaked, and missed his head-piece, was in the right in the first thought, that a man would be surprised to find such an alteration in things since he fell asleep; but he was a little mistaken to imagine he could awake at all after his head was cut off. A madman fancies himself a prince; but, upon his mistake, he acts suitably to that character; and though he is out in sup posing he has principalities, while he drinks gruel, and lies in straw, yet you shall see him keep the port of a distressed monarch in all his words and actions. These two persons are equally taken into custody: but what must be done to half this good company, who every hour of their life are knowingly and wittingly both fools and madmen, and yet have capacities both of forming principles and drawing conclusions, with the full use of reason? From my own Apartment, July 11. but as your brother observed of Socrates, I drew them into my conclusion, from their own concessions; thus: In marriage are two happy things allowed, A wife in wedding-sheets, and in a shroud. How can a marriage state then be accursed, Since the last day 's as happy as the first? 'If you think they were too easily confuted, you may conclude them not of the first sense, by their talking against marriage.-Yours, MARIANA.' I observed Sappho began to redden at this This evening some ladies came to visit my epistle; and turning to a lady, who was playing sister Jenny; and the discourse, after very many with a dog she was so fond of as to carry him frivolous and public matters, turned upon the abroad with her; Nay,' says she, 'I cannot main point among the women, the passion of blame the men if they have mean ideas of our love. Sappho, who always leads, on this occa. souls and affections, and wonder so many are sion began to show her reading, and told us, brought to take us for companions for life, that sir John Suckling and Milton had, upon a when they see our endearments so triflingly parallel occasion, said the tenderest things she placed: for, to my knowledge, Mr. Truman ever read. The circumstance,' said she, is would give half his estate for half the affection such as gives us a notion of that protecting you have shown to that Shock: nor do I bepart, which is the duty of men in their honour-lieve you would be ashamed to confess, that I able designs upon, or possession of women. In Suckling's tragedy of Brennoralt he makes the lover steal into his mistress's bed-chamber, and draw the curtains; then, when his heart is full of her charms, as she lies sleeping, instead of being carried away by the violence of his desires into thoughts of a warmer nature, sleep, which is the image of death, gives this generous lover reflections of a different kind, which regard rather her safety than his own passion. For, beholding her as she lies sleeping, he utters these words: 'So misers look upon their gold, Which, while they joy to see, they fear to lose: A meeting of gentle lights without name!' Amongst the wastes of time? what pity 'twere!' When Milton makes Adam leaning on his arm, beholding Eve, and lying in the contemplation of her beauty, he describes the utmost tenderness and guardian affection in one word: Adam, with looks of cordial love, saw you cry, when he had the colic last week with lapping sour milk. What more could you do for your lover himself? What more replied the lady, There is not a man in England for whom I could lament half so much.' Then she stifled the animal with kisses, and called him beau, life, dear, monsieur, pretty fellow, and what not, in the hurry of her impertinence. Sappho rose up; as she always does at any thing she observes done which discovers in her own sex a levity of mind that renders them inconsiderable in the opinion of ours. in our nation, than their general affectation of THERE is no one thing more to be lamented far, that we are more anxious for our own every thing that is foreign: nay, we carry it so countrymen when they have crossed the seas, than when we see them in the same dangerous condition before our eyes at home: else how is it possible, that on the twenty-ninth of the last month there should have been a battle fought in our very streets of London, and nobody at this end of the town have heard of it? I protest, I, who make it my business to inquire after adventures, should never have known this, This is that sort of passion which truly deserves the name of love, and has something more generous than friendship itself; for it has a constant care of the object beloved, abstracted from its own interests in the possession of it.' Sappho was proceeding on the subject, when my sister produced a letter sent to her in the time of my absence, in celebration of the mar-had not the following account been sent me in. riage state, which is the condition wherein only this sort of passion reigns in full authority. The epistle is as follows: DEAR MADAM,-Your brother being absent, I dare take the liberty of writing to you my thoughts of that state, which our whole sex either is, or desires to be in. You will easily guess I mean matrimony, which I hear so much decried, that it was with no small labour I maintained my ground against two opponents; closed in a letter. This, it seems, is the way of giving out orders in the Artillery-company; and they prepare for a day of action with so little concern, as only to call it, 'An exercise of arms.' 'An Exercise at Arms of the Artillery.company, to be performed on Wednesday, June the twenty-ninth, 1709, under the command of Sir Joseph Woolfe, Knight and Alderman, General; Charles Hopson, Es. quire, present Sheriff, Lieutenant-general; and surprising; and, according to this method, Captain Richard Synge, Major; Major the troops are disposed in King's-head-court and John Shorey, Captain of Grenadiers; Cap- Red-lion-market: nor is the conduct of these tain William Grayhurst, Captain John leaders less conspicuous in their choice of the Butler, Captain Robert Carellis, Captains. ground or field of battle. Happy was it, that the greatest part of the achievements of this day, was to be performed near Grub-street, that there might not be wanting a sufficient number of faithful historians, who, being eye-witnesses of these wonders, should impartially transmit them to posterity! But then it can never be enough regretted, that we are left in the dark as to the name and title of that extraordinary hero, who commanded the divisions in Paul's alley; es The body marched from the Artilleryground, through Moorgate, Coleman-street, Lothbury, Broad-street, Finch-lane, Cornhill, Cheapside, St. Martin's, St. Anne's-lane, halt the pikes under the wall in Noble-street, draw up the firelocks facing the Goldsmiths'-hall, make ready and face to the left, and fire, and so ditto three times. Beat to arms, and march round the hall, as up Lad-lane, Gutter-lane, Honey-pecially because those divisions are justly styled lane, and so wheel to the right, and make your brave, and accordingly were to push the enemy salute to my lord, and so down St. Anne's-lane, along Bunhill-row, and thereby occasion a up Aldersgate-street, Barbican, and draw up in general battle. But Pallas appeared in the form Red-cross-street, the right of St. Paul's-alley in of a shower of rain, and prevented the slaughter the rear. March off lieutenant-general with and desolation, which were threatened by these half the body up Beech-lane: he sends a sub-extraordinary preparations. division up King's-head-court, and takes post in it, and marches two divisions round into Red-lion-market, to defend that pass, and succour the division in King's-head-court; but keeps in White-cross-street, facing Beech-lane, the rest of the body ready drawn up. Then the general marches up Beech-lane, is attacked, but forces the division in the court into the Hi motus animorum, atque hæc certamina tanta Virg. Georg. iv. 86. Will's Coffee-house, July 13. Some part of the company keep up the old market, and enters with three divisions while way of conversation in this place, which usually he presses the lieutenant-general's main body; turned upon the examination of nature, and an and at the same time the three divisions force inquiry into the manners of men. There is one those of the revolters out of the market, and so in the room so very judicious, that he manages all the lieutenant-general's body retreats into impertinents with the utmost dexterity. It was Chiswell-street, and lodges two divisions in diverting this evening to hear a discourse beGrub-street; and as the general marches on,tween him and one of these gentlemen. He they fall on his flank, but soon made to give way: but having a retreating place in Red-lioncourt but could not hold it, being put to flight through Paul's-alley, and pursued by the general's grenadiers, while he marches up and attacks their main body, but are opposed again by a party of men as lay in Black-raven-court; but they are forced also to retire soon in the utmost confusion, and at the same time those brave divisions in Paul's-alley ply their rear with grenadoes, that with precipitation they take to the route along Bunhill-row so the general marches into the Artillery-ground, and being drawn up, finds the revolting party to have found entrance, and makes a show as if for a battle, and both armies soon engage in form, and fire by platoons.' : Much might be said for the improvement of this system; which, for its style and invention, may instruct generals and their historians, both in fighting a battle, and describing it when it is over. These elegant expressions, dittoand so-but soon-but having-but could notbut are-but they-finds the party to have found,' &c. do certainly give great life and spirit to the relation. Indeed I am extremely concerned for the lieutenant-general, who, by his overthrow and defcat, is made a deplorable instance of the fortune of war, and vicissitudes of human affairs. He, alas! has lost, in Beech-lane and Chiswell. street, all the glory he lately gained in and about Holborn and St. Giles's. The art of subdividing first, and dividing afterwards, is new told me, before that person joined us, that he was a questioner, who, according to his description, is one who asks questions, not with a design to receive information, but an affectation to show his uneasiness for want of it. He went on in asserting, that there are crowds of that modest ambition, as to aim no farther than to demonstrate that they are in doubt. By this time Will Whynot was sat down by us. 'So, gentlemen, says he, in how many days, think you, will we be masters of Tournay? Is the account of the action of the Vivarois to be depended upon? Could you have imagined England had so much money in it as you see it has produced? Pray, sirs, what do you think? Will the duke of Savoy make an irruption into France? But,' says he, time will clear all these mysteries.' His answer to himself gave me the altitude of his head, and to all his questions, I thus answered very satisfactorily. -Sir, have you heard that this Slaughterford* never owned the fact for which he died! Have the newspapers mentioned that matter? But, pray, can you tell me what method will be taken to provide for these Palatines? But this, as you say, time will clear.' Ay, ay,' says he, and whispers me, they will never let us into these things beforehand.' I whispered him again, We shall know it as soon as there is a proclamation.'-He tells me in the other ear, You are in the right of it.' Then he whispered my friend to know what my name was; and · * A man hanged for the murder of his sweetheart. |