litely ridiculous; and he is above the rank of com- Your most affectionate monitor, Lost, from the Cocoa-tree, in Pall-mall, two Irish dogs, belonging to the pack of London; one a tall white wolf-dog; the other a black nimble greyhound, not very sound, and supposed to be gone to the Bath, by instinct, for cure. The man of the inn, from whence they ran, being now there, is desired, if he meets either of them, to tie them up. Several others are lost about Tunbridge and Epsom; which whoever will maintain may keep". STEELE. 5 See N° 56, 6 See N° 56, 57, 59, 61, 62, 65, &c. No 65. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1709. Quicquid agunt homines nostri est farrago libelli. JUV. Sat. i. 85, 86. Whatever good is done, whatever ill- Will's Coffee-house, September 7. I CAME hither this evening, and expected nothing else but mutual congratulations in the company, on the late victory; but found our room, which one would have hoped to have seen full of good humour and alacrity upon so glorious an occasion, full of sour animals, inquiring into the action, in doubt of what had happened, and fearful of the success of their countrymen. It is natural to believe easily what we wish heartily, and a certain rule, that they are not friends to a glad occasion who speak all they can against the truth of it; who end their argument against our happiness, that they wish it otherwise. When I came into the room, a gentleman was declaiming: If,' says he,' we have so great and complete a victory, why have we not the names of the prisoners? Why is not an exact relation of the conduct of our generals laid before the world? Why do we not know where and whom to applaud? If we are victorious, why do we not give an account of our captives and our slain? But we are to be satisfied with general notices we are conquerors, and to believe it so. Sure this is approving the despotic way of treating the world which we pretend to fight against, if we sit down satisfied with such contradictory ac counts, which have the words of triumph, but do not bear the spirit of it.' I whispered Mr. Greenhat, Pray, what can that dissatisfied man be!' He is,' answered he, a character you have not yet perhaps observed. You have heard of battle-painters, have mentioned a battle-poet; but this is a battle-critic. He is a fellow that lives in a government so gentle, that, though it sees him an enemy, suffers his malice, because they know his impotence. He is to examine the weight of an advantage before the company will allow it.' Greenhat was going on in his explanation, when Sir George England thought fit to take up the discourse in the following manner: 'Gentlemen, the action you are in so great doubt to approve of, is greater than ever has been performed in any age: and the value of it I observe from your dissatisfaction: for battle-critics are like all others; you are the more offended, the more you ought to be, and are convinced you ought to be, pleased. Had this engagement happened in the time of the old Romans, and such things been acted in their service, there would not be a foot of the wood which was pierced but had been consecrated to some deity, or made memorable by the death of him who expired in it for the sake of his country. It had been said at some monument, at the entrance; "Here the duke of Argyle drew his sword, and said, 'March.' Here Webb, after having an accomplished fame for gallantry, exposed himself like a common soldier. Here Rivett, who was wounded at the beginning of the day and carried off as dead, returned to the field, and received his death." Medals had been struck for our general's behaviour when he first came into the plain. "Here was the fury of the action, and here the hero stood as fearless as if invulnerable." Such certainly had been the cares of that state for their own honour, and in gratitude to their heroic subjects. But the wood intrenched, the plain made more impassable than the wood, and all the difficulties opposed to the most gallant army and the most intrepid leaders that ever the sun shone upon, are treated by the talk of some in this room as objections to the merit of our general and our army: but,' continued he, I leave all the examination of this matter, and a proper discourse on our sense of public actions, to my friend Bickerstaff; who may let beaux and gamesters rest, until he has examined into the reasons of men's being malecontents, in the only nation that suffers professed enemies to breathe in open air.' From my own Apartment, September 7. THE following letters are sent to me from relations, and though I do not know who and who are intended, I publish them. I have only writ nonsense, if there is nothing in them; and done a good action, if they alarm any heedless men against the fraternity of the knights, whom the Greeks call Paσnaλs'. Bath, Aug. 30. MR. BICKERSTAFF, Ir is taken very ill by several gentlemen here, that you are so little vigilant, as to let the dogs run from their kennels to this place. Had you done your duty, we should have had notice of their arrival; but the sharpers are now become so formidable here, that they have divided themselves into nobles and commons: beau Bogg, beau Pert, Rake, and Tallboy, are of their upper house; broken captains, ignorant attornies, and such other bankrupts from industrious professions, compose their lower order. Among these two sets of men, there happened here lately some un 7 See N° 56, 57, 59, 61, 62, and 64. happy differences. Esquire Humphry came down among us with four hundred guineas: his raw appearance, and certain signals in the good-natured muscles of Humphry's countenance, alarmed the societies; for sharpers are as skilful as beggars in physiognomy, and know as well where to hope for plunder, as the others to ask for alms. Pert was the man exactly fitted for taking with Humphry as a fine gentleman; for a raw fool is ever enamoured with his contrary, a coxcomb; and a coxcomb is what the booby who wants experience, and is unused to company, regards as the first of men. He ever looks at him with envy, and would certainly be such, if he were not oppressed by his rusticity or bashfulness. There arose an entire friendship by this sympathy between Pert and Humphry, which ended in stripping the latter. We now could see this forlorn youth for some days moneyless, without sword, and one day without his hat, and with secret melancholy pining for his snuffbox: the jest of the whole town, but most of those who robbed him. • At last fresh bills came down, when immediately their countenances cleared up, ancient kindnesses and familiarity renewed, and to dinner he was invited by the fraternity. You are to know, that while he was in his days of solitude, a commoner, who was excluded from his share of the prey, had whispered the esquire, that he was bit, and cautioned him of venturing again. However, hopes of recovering his snuffbox, which was given him by his aunt, made him fall to play after dinner; yet, mindful of what he was told, he saw something that provoked him to tell them, they were a company of sharpers. Presently Tallboy fell on him, and being too hard at fisty-cuffs, drove him out of doors. The valiant Pert followed, and kicked him in his turn; which the esquire re |