manner wholly new and unknown to the ancient Greeks and Romans, wherein he is but faintly imitated in the translations of the modern Italian operas.

were

St. James's Coffee-house, April 11. Letters from the Hague of the sixteenth say, that major-general Cadogan was gone to Brussels, with orders to disperse proper instructions for assembling the whole force of the allies in Flanders in the beginning of the next month. The late offers concerning peace were made in the style of persons who think themselves upon equal terms; but the allies have so just a sense of their present advantages, that they will not admit of a treaty, except France offers what is more suitable to her present condition. At the same time, we make preparations as if we alarmed by a greater force than that which we are carrying into the field. Thus this point seems now to be argued sword in hand. This was what a great general alluded to, when being asked the names of those who were to be plenipotentiaries for the ensuing peace, he answered with a serious air, "There are about an hundred thousand of us." Mr. Kidney, who has the ear of the greatest politicians that come hither, tells me, there is a mail come in to-day with letters, dated Hague, April the nineteenth, N. S. which say, a design of bringing part of our troops into the field, at the latter end of this month, is now altered to a resolution of marching towards the camp about the twentieth of the next. Prince Eugene was then returned thither from Amsterdam. He sets out from Brussels on Tuesday: the greater number of the general officers at the Hague, have orders to go at the same time. The squadron at Dunkirk consists of seven vessels. There happened the other day, in the road of Scheveling, an engagement between a privateer of Zeeland and one of Dunkirk. The Dunkirker, carrying thirty-three pieces of cannon, was taken and brought into the Texel. It is said, the courier of Monsieur Rouille is returned to him from the court of France. Monsieur Vendosme, being reinstated in the favour of the duchess of Burgundy, is to command in Flanders.

Mr. Kidney added, that there were letters of the seventeenth from Ghent, which give an account that the enemy had formed a design to surprise two battalions of the allies which lay at Alost; but those battalions received advice of their march, and retired to Dendermond. Lieutenant-general Wood appeared on this occasion at the head of five thousand foot, and one thousand horse; upon which, the enemy withdrew without making any farther attempt.

From my own Apartment.

I am sorry I am obliged to trouble the public with so much discourse upon a matter which I at the very first mentioned as a trifle, viz. the death of Mr. Partridge, under whose name there is an almanack come out for the year 1709; in one page of which it is asserted by the said John Partridge, that he is still living; and not only so, but that he was also living some time before, and even at the instant when I writ of his death. I have in another place, and in a paper by itself, sufficiently convinced this man that he is dead, and, if he has any shame, I do not doubt but by this time he owns it to all his acquaintance; for though the legs and arms and whole body of that man may still appear, and perform their animal functions; yet since, as I have elsewhere observed, his art his gone, the man is gone. I am, as I said, concerned that this little matter should make so much noise; but since I am engaged, I take myself

obliged in honour to go on in my lucubrations, and by the help of these arts, of which I am master, as well as my skill in astrological speculations, I shall as I see occasion, proceed to confute other dead men who pretend to be in being, although they are actually deceased. I therefore give all men fair warning to mend their manners; for I shall, from time to time, print bills of mortality; and I beg the pardon of all such who shall be named therein, if they who are good for nothing shall find themselves in the number of the deceased.

No. 2.]

ance.

THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 1709.

Will's Coffee-house, April 13. There has lain all this evening on the table, the following poem. The subject of it being matter very useful for families, I thought it deserved to be considered, and made more public. The turn the poet gives it, is very happy; but the foundation is from a real accident which happened among my acquaintA young gentleman of a great estate fell desperately in love with a great beauty of very high quality, but as ill-natured as long flattery and an habitual self-will could make her. However, my young spark ventures upon her like a man of quality, without being acquainted with her, or having ever saluted her until it was a crime to kiss any woman else. Beauty is a thing which palls with possession; and the charms of this lady soon wanted the support of good-humour and complacency of manners. Upon this, my spark flies to the bottle for relief from satiety. She disdains him for being tired with that for which all men envied him; and he never came home, but it was-" Was there no sot that would stay longer? would any man living but you? did I leave all the world for this usage?" to which, he "Madam, split me, you are very impertinent!" In a word, this match, was wedlock in its most terrible appearances. She, at last, weary of railing to no purpose, applies to a good uncle, who gives her a bottle he pretended he had bought of Mr. Partridge the conjurer." This," said he, "I gave ten guineas for. The virtue of the enchanted liquor (said he that sold it) is such, that if the woman you marry proves a scold (which it seems my dear niece is your misfortune; as it was your good mother's before you) let her hold three spoonsful in her mouth for a full half hour after you come home-" But I find I am not in humour for telling a tale, and nothing in nature is so ungraceful as story-telling against the grain, therefore take it as the author has given it you.

THE MEDICINE.

A Tale-for the Ladies.

Miss Molly, a fam'd toast, was fair and young, Had wealth and charms-but then she had a tongue! From morn to night th'eternal 'larum run, Which often lost those hearts her eyes had won.

Sir John was smitten, and confess'd his flame; Sigh'd out the usual time, then wed the dame; Possess'd, he thought, of every joy of life But his dear Molly prov'd a very wife. Excess of fondness did in time decline, Madam lov'd money, and the knight lov'd wine. From whence some petty discord would arise, As, "You're a fool!" and, "You are mighty wise!"

Though he and all the world allow'd her wit, Her voice was shrill, and rather loud than sweet; When she began-for hat and sword he'd call, Then after a faint kiss-cry, "Bye, dear Moll! Supper and friends expect me at the Rose.”—

"And, what Sir John, you'll get your usual dose!
Go, stink of smoke, and guzzle nasty wine;
Sure, never virtuous love was us'd like mine!"
Oft as the watchful bell-man march'd his round,
At a fresh bottle gay Sir John he found.
By four the knight would get his business done,
And only then reel'd off, because alone;
Full well he knew the dreadful storm to come,
But, arm'd with Bourdeaux, he durst venture home.
My lady with her tongue was still prepar'd,
She rattled loud, and he impatient heard:
"Tis a fine hour! In a sweet pickle made!
And this, Sir John, is every day the trade.
Here I sit moping all the live-long night,
Devour'd with spleen, and stranger to delight;
'Till morn sends staggering home a drunken beast
Resolv'd to break my heart, as well as rest."

Hey! hoop! d'ye hear my damn'd obstreperous

spouse,

What, can't you find one bed about the house?
Will that perpetual clack lie never still?
That rival to the softness of a mill!

Some couch and distant room must be my choice,
Where I may sleep uncurs'd with wife and noise."
Long this uncomfortable life they led,
With snarling meals, and each a sep'rate bed.
To an old uncle oft she would complain,
Beg his advice, and scarce from tears refrain.
Old Wisewood smok'd the matter as it was,
"Cheer up!" cried he, "and I'll remove the cause.
"A wond'rous spring within my garden flows,
Of sovereign virtue, chiefly to compose
Domestic jars, and matrimonial strife,
The best elixir t' appease man and wife;
Strange are th' effects, the qualities divine,
'Tis water call'd, but worth its weight in wine.
If in his sullen airs Sir John should come,
Three spoonsful take, hold in your mouth-then

mum,

Smile, and look pleas'd, when he shall rage and scold,
Still in your mouth the healing cordial hold.
One month this sympathetic med'cine try'd,
He'll grow a lover, you a happy bride.
But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close,
Or every prattling hussy 'll beg a dose."

A water-bottle's brought for her relief;
Not Nants could sooner ease the lady's grief:
Her busy thoughts are on the trial bent,
And, female like, impatient for th' event!

The bonny knight reels home exceeding clear,
Prepar'd for clamour and domestic war:
Entering, he cries-"Hey! where's our thunder fled!
No hurricane! Betty's your lady dead?"
Madam, aside, an ample mouthful takes,
Court'sies, looks kind, but not a word she speaks:
Wondering, he star'd, scarcely his eyes believ'd,
But found his ears agreeably deceiv'd.

Why, how now, Molly, what's the crotchet now?" She smiles, and answers only with a bow. Then clasping her about-"Why, let me die! These night-cloaths, Moll, become thee mightily!" With that he sigh'd, her hand began to press, And Betty calls, her lady to undress. "Nay, kiss me, Molly-for I'm much inclin'd." Her lace she cuts, to take him in the mind. Thus the fond pair to bed enamour'd went, The lady pleas'd, and the good knight content. For many days these fond endearments past, The reconciling bottle fails at last;

'Twas us'd and gone-Then midnight storms arose, And looks and words the union discompose. Her coach is order'd, and post-haste she flies

To beg her uncle for some fresh supplies,
Transported does the strange effects relate,
Her knight's conversation, and her happy state!
"Why, niece," says he "I pr'ythee apprehend,
The water's water-be thyself thy friend;
Such beauty would the coldest husband warm,
But your provoking tongue undoes the charm:
Be silent and complying.-You'll soon find,
Sir John without a med'cine will be kind."

St. James's Coffee-house, April 13.

Letters from Venice say, the disappointment of their expectation to see his Danish majesty has very much disquieted the court of Rome. Our last advices from Germany inform us that the minister of Hanover has urged the council at Ratisbone to exert themselves in behalf of the common cause, and taken

the liberty to say, that the dignity, the virtue, the prudence of his electoral highness, his master, were called to the head of their affairs in vain, if they thought fit to leave him naked of the proper means to make those excellencies useful for the honour and safety of the empire. They write from Berlin of the thirteenth, O. S. that the true design of general Fleming's visit to that court was to insinuate, that it will be for the mutual interest of the king of Prussia and king Augustus to enter into a new alliance; but that the ministers of Prussia are not inclined to his sentiments. We hear from Vienna, that his imperial majesty has expressed great satisfaction in their high mightinesses having communicated to him the whole that has passed in the affair of a peace. Though there have been practices used by the agents of France, in all the courts of Europe, to break the good understanding of the allies, they have had no other effect, but to make all the members concerned in the alliance more doubtful of their safety, from the great offers of the enemy. The emperor is roused by this alarm, and the frontiers of all the French dominions are in danger of being insulted the ensuing campaign. Advices from all parts confirm, that it is impossible for France to find a way to obtain so much credit as to gain any one potentate of the allies, or conceive any hope for safety from other prospects.

From my own Apartment, April 13.

I find it of very great use, now I am setting up for a writer of news, that I am an adept in astrological speculations; by which means, I avoid speak ing of things which may offend great persons. But, at the same time, I must not prostitute the liberal sciences so far, as not to utter the truth in cases which do immediately concern the good of my native country. I must, therefore, contradict what has been so assuredly reported by the news-writers of England, that France is in the most deplorable condition, and that their people die in great multitudes. I will therefore let the world know, that my correspondent by the way of Brussels, informs me upon his honour, that the gentleman who writes the gazette of Paris, and ought to know as well as any man, has told him, that ever since the king has been past his sixty-third year, or grand climacteric, there has not died one man of the French nation who was younger than his majesty, except a very few who were taken suddenly near the village of Hockstet in Germany; and some more who were straitened for lodging at a place called Ramilies, and died on the road to Ghent and Bruges. There are also other things given out by the allies, which are shifts below a conquering nation to make use of. Among others, it is said there is a general murmuring among the

Το

This evening the comedy called the Country Wife, was acted in Drury-lane, for the benefit of Mrs. Bignell. The part which gives name to the play was performed by herself. Through the whole action she made a very pretty figure, and exactly entered into the nature of the part. Her husband, in the drama, is represented to be one of those debauchees who run through the vices of the town, and believe when they think fit, they can marry and settle at their ease. His own knowledge of the iniquity of the age, makes him choose a wife wholly ignorant of it, and place his security in her want of skill to abuse him. The poet on many occasions, where the propriety of the character will admit of it, insinuates, that there is no defence against vice, but the contempt of it: and has, in the natural ideas of an untainted innocent, shown the gradual steps to ruin and destruction which persons of condition run into, without the help of a good education to form their conduct. The torment of a jealous coxcomb, which arises from his own false maxims, and the aggravation of his pain, by the very words in which he sees her innocence, makes a very pleasant and instructive satire. The character of Horner, and the design of it, is a good representation of the age in which that comedy was written; at which time, love and wenching were the business of life, and the gallant manner of pursuing women was the best recommendation at court. this only, it is to be imputed, that a gentleman of Mr. Wycherly's character and sense, condescends to represent the insults done to the honour of the bed, without just reproof; but to have drawn a man of probity with regard to such considerations had been a monster, and a poet had at that time discovered his want of knowing the manners of the court he lived in, by a virtuous character in his fine gentleman, as he would show his ignorance by drawing a vicious one to please the present audience. Mrs. Bignell did her part very happily, and had a certain grace in her rusticity, which gave us hopes of seeing her a very skilful player, and in some parts, supply our loss of Mrs. Verbruggen. I cannot be of the same opinion with my friends and fellow-labourers, the Reformers of Manners, in their severity towards plays; but must allow, that a good play, acted before a well-bred audience, must raise very proper incitements to good behaviour, and be the most quick and most prevailing method of giving young people a turn of sense and breeding. But as I have set up for a weekly historian, I resolve to be a faithful one; and therefore take this public occasion to admonish a young nobleman, who came flustering into the box last night, and let him know how much all his friends were out of countenance for him. The women sat in terror of hearing something that should shock their modesty, and all the gentlemen in as much pain out of compassion to the ladies, and perhaps resentment for the indignity which was offered in coming into their presence in so disrespectful a manner. Wine made him say nothing that was rude, therefore he is forgiven, upon condition he never will hazard his offending more in this kind. As I just now hinted, I own myself of the " Society for Reformation of

Manners." We have lower instruments than those of the family of Bickerstaff, for punishing great crimes and exposing the abandoned. Therefore, as I design to have notices from all public assemblies, I shall take upon me only indecorums, improprieties, and negligences, in such as should give us better examples. After this declaration, if a fine lady thinks fit to giggle at church, or a great beau come in drunk to a play, either shall be sure to hear of it in my ensuing paper; for, merely as a well-bred man, I cannot bear these enormities.

After the play, we naturally stroll to this coffeehouse, in hopes of meeting some new poem or other entertainment among the men of wit and pleasure, where there is a dearth at present. But it is wonderful there should be so few writers, when the art is become merely mechanic, and men may make themselves great that way by as certain and infallible rules as you may be a joiner or a mason. There happens a good instance of this in what the hawker has just now offered for sale, to wit, Instructions to Vanderbank: A Sequel to the advice to the Poets: A Poem, occasioned by the glorious success of her Majesty's arms under the command of the Duke of Marlborough, the last year in Flanders.' Here you are to understand that the author, finding the poets would not take his advice, troubles himself no more about them; but has met with one Vanderbank, who works in arras, and makes very good tapestry hangings: therefore, in order to celebrate the hero of the age, he claps together all that can be said of a man that makes hangings :

Then artist, who does nature's face express
In silk and gold, and scenes of action dress;
Dost figur'd arras animated leave,
Spin a bright story, or a passion weave;
By mingling threads, canst mingle shade and light,
Delineate triumphs, or describe a fight?

Well, what shall this workman do? why, to show how great an hero the poet intends, he provides him a very good horse:

Champing his foam, and bounding on the plain, Arch his high neck, and graceful spread his mane. Now as to the intrepidity, the calm courage, the constant application of the hero, it is not necessary to take that upon yourself: you may, in the lump, bid him you employ raise him as high as he can; and if he does it not, let him answer for disobeying orders. Let fame and victory in inferior sky

Hover with balanc'd wings, and smiling fly
Above his head, &c.

A whole poem of this kind may be ready against an ensuing campaign, as well as a space left in the canvass of a piece of tapestry for the principal figure, while the under parts are working; so that in effect, the adviser copies after the man he pretends to direct. This method should, methinks, encourage young beginners; for the invention is so fitted to all capacities, that by the help of it a man may make a receipt for a poem. A young man may observe, that the jig of the thing is, as I said, finding out all that can be said in his way whom you employ to set forth your worthy. Waller and Denham had worn out the expedience of Advice to a Painter;' this author has transferred the work, and sent his Advice to the Poets; that is to say, to the Turners of Verse, as he calls them. Well, that thought is worn out also; therefore he directs his genius to the loom, and will have a new set of hangings in honour of the last

year in Flanders. I must own to you, I approve extremely this invention, and it might be improved for the benefit of manufactory: as, suppose an ingenious gentleman should write a poem of advice to a Calicoprinter; do you think there is a girl in England that would wear any thing but the Taking of Lisle,' or, The Battle of Oudenarde?' They would certainly

be all the fashion until the heroes abroad had cut out some more patterns. I should fancy small skirmishes might do for under-petticoats, provided they had a siege for the upper. If our adviser were well imitated, many industrious people might be put to work. Little Mr. Dactile, now in the room, who formerly writ a song and a half, is a week gone in a pretty work, upon this hint: he is writing an epigram to a young virgin who knits very well (it is a thousand pities he is a jacobite ;) but his epigram is by way of advice to this damsel, to knit all the actions of the pretender and the duke of Burgundy's last campaign in the clock of a stocking. It were endless to enumerate the many hands and trades that may be employed by poets, of so useful a turn as this adviser. I shall think of it; and, in this time of taxes, shall consult a great critic employed in the custom-house, in order to propose what tax may be proper to be put upon knives, seals, rings, hangings, wrought beds, gowns, and petticoats, where any of these commodities bear mottoes, or are worked upon poetical grounds.

St. James's Coffee-house, April 15.

Letters from Turin of the third instant, N. S. inform us, that his royal highness employs all his address in alarming the enemy, and perplexing their speculations concerning his real designs the ensuing campaign. Contracts are entered into with the merchants of Milan for a great number of mules to transport his provisions and ammunition. His royal highness has ordered the train of artillery to be conveyed to Susa before the twentieth of the next month. In the mean time, all accounts agree that the enemy are very backward in their preparations, and almost incapable of defending themselves against an invasion, by reason of the general murmurs of their own people; which, they find, are no way to be quieted but by giving them hopes of a speedy peace. When these letters were despatched, the marshal de Thesse was arrived at Genoa, where he has taken much pains to keep the correspondents of the merchants of France in hopes that measures will be found out to support the credit and commerce between that state and

Lyons but the late declaration of the agents of Monsieur Bernard, that they cannot discharge the demands made upon them, has quite dispirited all those who are engaged in the remittances of France.

From my own Apartment, April 15.

It is a very natural passion in all good members of the commonwealth, to take what care they can of their families. Therefore, I hope the reader will forgive me, that I desire he would go to the play called the Stratagem, this evening, which is to be acted for the benefit of my near kinsman, Mr. John Bickerstaff. I protest to you, the gentleman has not spoken to me to desire this favour; but I have a respect for him, as well in regard to consanguinity, as that he is an intimate friend of that famous and heroic actor, Mr. George Powel; who formerly played Alexander the Great in all places, though he is lately grown so reserved, as to act it only on the stage.

TUESDAY, APRIL 18, 1709.

'It is usual with persons who mount the stage for the cure or information of the crowd about them, to make solemn professions of their being wholly disinterested in the pains they take for the public good. At the same time, those very men who make harangues in plush doublets, and extol their own abilities and generous inclinations, tear their lungs in vending a drug, and show no act of bounty, except it be, that they lower a demand of a crown to six, nay, to one penny. We have a contempt for such paltry bar terers, and have therefore, all along informed the public, that we intend to give them our advices for our own sakes, and are labouring to make our lucubrations come to some price in money, for our more convenient support in the service of the public. It is certain, that many other schemes have been proposed to me; as a friend offered to show me a treatise he had writ, which he called "The whole Art of Life; or, The Introduction to great Men, illustrated in a Pack of Cards." But, being a novice at al manner of play, I declined the offer. Another advised me, for want of money, to set up my coach, and practise physic; but, having been bred a scholar, I feared I should not succeed that way neither, therefore, resolved to go on in my present project. But you are to understand that I shall not pretend to raise a credit to this work upon the weight of my politic news only, but, as my Latin sentence in the title-page informs you, shall take any thing that offers for the subject of my discourse. Thus, new persons, as well as new things, are to come under my consi deration; as, when a toast or wit is first pronounced such, you shall have the freshest advice of their preferment, from me, with a description of the beauty's manners, and the wit's style; as also, in whose places they are advanced. For this town is never good-natured enough to raise one without depressing another. But it my design to avoid saying any thing of any person which ought justly to displease; but shall endeavour, by the variety of the matter and style, to give entertainment for men of pleasure, without offence to those of business.'

White's Chocolate-house, April 18.

All hearts at present pant for two ladies only, who have for some time engrossed the dominion of the town. They are, indeed, both exceeding charming, but differ very much in their excellencies. The beauty of Clarissa is soft, that of Chloe piercing. When you look at Clarissa, you see the most exact harmony of feature, complexion, and shape; you find in Chloe nothing extraordinary in any one of those particulars, but the whole woman irresistible: Clarissa looks languishing; Chloe killing: Clarissa never fails of gaining admiration; Chloe of moving desire. The gazers at Clarissa are at first unconcerned, as if they were observing a fine picture. They who be hold Chloe, at the first glance discover transport, as if they met their dearest friend. These different perfections are suitably represented by the last great painter Italy has sent us, Mr. Jervas. Clarissa is by that skilful hand placed in a manner that looks artless, and innocent of the torments she gives; Chloe is drawn with a liveliness that shows she is conscious of, but not affected with, her perfections. Clarissa is a shepherdess; Chloe a country girl. I must own, the design of Chloe's picture shows, to me, great mastery in the painter: for nothing could be better imagined than the dress he has given her of a strawhat and a ribbon, to represent that sort of beauty