« AnteriorContinuar »
fell dead from his horse. His body in the strictest and sincereft friend thip for was not found till the next morn- a long course of years without the smallest ing. Till then there were some intormission ; and the chancellor declares, hopes that he was taken prisoner ; thom he never in his whole life felt a severer his nearest friends, who knew his temper, stroke of fortune than the death of his dear received fmall comfort from that imagi- friend lord Falkland; which, as he expresses nation.
it himself, happened in a conjuncture Thus fell, in the prime of life, the great, of time when the death of every honest the good Sir Lucius Cary, lord viscount and discreet person was a very sensible Falkland, secretary of state, without having and terrible lors, in the judgment of all lived, to complete his four and thirtieth good men, year; having so much dispatched the Besides the noble hiftorian, all the cons true business of life, that the oldest rarely temporaries of the lord Falkland bestow attain to that immense knowledge, and the highest commendations imaginable upthe youngest enter not into the world with on him. They all assure us, that he was more innocency.
a man of excellent, nay, of exceeding A day or two before his death he had great and prodigious parts, both natural received a letter from Mr. Hyde, in which and acquired; of a wit ro Tarp, and a he had told him how much he suffered in nature so fincere, that nothing could be his reputation with all discreet men by more lovely; of great ingenuity and ho. engaging himself unnecessarily in all places nour; of the most exemplary manners and of danger : and that it was not the office singular good nature ; and of the moft una of a privy-counsellor, and a secretary of blemished integrity; of that inimitable ftate, to visit the trenches as he usually did; Sweetness and delight in converfation ; of and conjured him out of the conscience fo Aowing and obliging a humanity and of his duty to the king, and to free his goodness to mankind; and of that primi. friends from those continual uneasy appre. * tive fimplicity and innocency of life, hensions, not to engage his person to those as could hardly be equalled. His an. dangers which were not incumbent to swers were quick and sudden, and though him. To this letter lord Falkland imme- he bad great deal of true worth, yet he diately wrote an answer, wherein he said, was very modeft. His familiarity and that as the trenches were now at an end, friendship, for the most part, was with there would be no more danger there: men of the most eminent and sublime that his case was different from other parts, and of untouched reputation in point men's; that he was so much taken notice of integrity. He was a great chrither of of for an impatient defire of peace, that it wit and fancy, and learning in any man; was necessary that he thould likewise make and if he found any one poffeffed of good it appear, that it was not out of fear of parts, clouded with poverty or want, a the utmost hazard of war: and, after moft liberal and bountiful patron, even adding some melancholly reflections on above his fortune : for he had naturally the times, he concluded that in a few days such a generosity in him, that, as lord Clathey thould come to a bacele, the iffue rendon observes, he seemed to have his whereof, he hoped, would put an end estate in trust for all worthy persons who to the miseries of the kingdom. This stood in want of fupplies and encourageletter Mr. Hyde, by a delay of the mer- ment; fuch as Ben Johnson, and many fenger, did not receive till the very day others of that time, whose fortunes rethe news of his death reached Oxford, which quired, and whose spirits were superior to was the next after he was killed. Never ordinary obligations. From him they were was any man more lamented, nor with content to receive, because his bounties greater reason. With the lord Falkland, lord were so generously distributed, and so Clarendon says, he lost the joy and com- much without vanity and oftentation : for fort of his life, which he lamented fo paf. he did all he could that the persons who fionately, that he could not in many days received them should be ignorant of the compose himself to any thoughts of bufi. fountain from whence they fowed ; and nefs. This noble writer feizes every op- when that could not be concealed, no man portunity both in his History of the Civil was ever more troubled and confused at Wars, and of his own Life, to speak of him receiving any acknowledgment. with the highest expressions of admiration, He was of a most incomparable gentlereverence, and esteem. They had lived nefs, and even submission to good and worthy men, and so ill a diffembler of his was the most chearful and pleasant that difike and disinclination to ill men, that can be imagined, he had so chatte a tongue it was not pollible for such not to discern and ear, that there was never known a it. He was constant and pertinacious in profane or loose word to fall from him, every laudable defign he undertook, and nor in truth in his company ; the integrity not to be wearied by any pains that were and cleanliness of the wits of that time not necessary to that end, an instance of which exercising itself in that licence before per has been mentioned : we mean his resolu- fons for whom they had any esteem. tion of learning the Greek tongue. He As his parts were great, so was his was superior to all those passions and af- knowledge and learning, of which he hach fections which affect vulgar minds; and left a signal proof in his writings; the was guilty of no other ambition than of chief of which are bis discourses against knowledge, and to be reputed a lover of the infallibility of the church of Rome, all good men.
nuch admired by all learned men ; and Many attempts were made by the insti- his speeches in parliament, when he oppogation of his mother (who was a lady of sed the arbitrary measures of the court, Ho another persuasion in religion, and of a likewise very much affifted the immortal most masculine underftanding, allayed Chillingworth in his book of Tbe Religion of with the passion and infirmities of her fex) Protestants, '&c. to pervert him from the church of En- He had an extreme affection for his wife, gland to that of Rome; which were pro- and a very great fondness for his children. fecuted with the more confidence, because By his will he left all he had to her, and he declined no opportunity.or occasion of committed them entirely to her care. His conference with those of that religion, In, usual saying was, “ I pity unlearned gentle all controverfies he had so dispafliouate a “men in a rainy day.” As to his person, consideration, such a candour in his nature, it was not very graceful, for he was low of and ro profound a charity in his con- ftature, and his aspect was not inviting, science, that in those points wherein he having rather somewhat of fimplicity in was in his own judgment most clear, he it, and his voice had a kind of harshness never thought the worse, or in any degree not very agreeable ; but these defects were declined the familiarity of those who were entirely overlooked, and lost in the con. of another mind : an excellent temper templation of the virtues of his mind. for the propagation and advancement of. It was accounted enough for any man's Christianity! He was so great an enemy reputation to have his acquaintance, ro to that passion and uncharitableness, which universally acknowledged was his merit. he saw produced by difference of opinion. He was a true son of the church of En. in matters of religion, that in all his dif- gland, and, in a word, as a late historian putes with priests and others of the Roman observes, the darling of the muses, the communion, he affected to manifest all patron of learning and merit, the mirpoffible civility to their persons and esteem 'ror of integrity, and the pattern of conof their learning or ingenuity. His af- summate virtue.' To which we may add, fability was fo transcendent and obliging, he was the envy and wonder of his time; that it drew reverence, and some kind of and it will redound to che eternal honour compliance from the roughest, and most of England to liave produced the lord vir. unpolished and Atubborn constitutions; count Falkland, one of the most perfect and made them of another temper in de and finished characters to be met with on bạte, in his presence, than they were in recorda other places. In his conversation, which is .
The Character of an
DUTLER, the inimitable author of inherited from nature there happy qualities. D Hudibras, is allowed to have possessed His fancy had no bounds, his thoughts had the talents of wit and satire, and easy ver- . a peculiar original turn, and every thing lification in as eminent a degree as any of flowed from him with the greatest ease and the English poets. He seemed to have velocity of imagination, his rhimes ap
pear easy and natural, and are neither ing to their seniority, and he values them forced nor laboured. His fame, as a poet, not by their abilities, but their standing. has been well known and acknowledged He has a great veneration for words that for a century paft; but the world has are stricken in years, and are grown ro long remained unacquainted with his great aged that they have outlived their employtalents in prose, which have been so lately ments.... Thefe he uses with a respect brought to light, by the publication of his agreeable to their antiquity, and the good genuine remains, by the ingenious Mr. Thyer services they have done. He throws away of Manchester, in 1759. In perusing his time in enquiring after that which is these works it will be found in point of hu. past and gone so many ages fince, like moor, true wit, and satire, Butler has no one that shoots away an arrow to find out. fuperior ; perhaps no equal. How horrid another that was loft before. He fetches a reflection must then arise in our minds, things out of duft and ruins, like the fawhen we consider that this man was born ble of the chemical plant raised out of its and lived in such an ungrateful age as to own afhes. He values one old invention be disregarded, and left to the dreadful ne- that is loft and never to be recovered, ceffity of want of bread, when in happier before all the new ones in the world, tho' times he would have met with the highest never so useful. The whole business of honours! Long before this publication it his life is the same with his that News was remarked that he had more thoughts the tombs at Westminster, only the one than lines : a very juft observation, and does it for his pleasure, and the other for still more applicable to his profe works. In money. As every man has but one father, these his sentiments follow each other with but two grandfathers, and a world of furprizing quickness, treading upon each ancestors; so he has a proportional vaother's heels, in such a manner, that before lue for things that are ancient, and the furit is possible to digeft what is past, a fe. ther off the greater. cood obtrudes itself; and this too, like a He is a great time-server, but it is of wave, is immediately followed by another : time out of mind, to which he conforms so great a profusion of thoughts may al. exactly; but is wholly retired from the most be termed a defect. As a specimen present. His days were spent and gone of this excellent writer's abilities, in the long before he came into the world, and qualities mentioned above, we have ex. fince, his only business is to collect what tracted for the amusement of our readers, he can out of the ruins of them. He has his Character of an Antiquary:
so strong a natural affection to any thing "An Antiquary is one that hath his being that is old, that he may truly say to dust in this age, but his life and conversation and worms, You are my father ; and to are in the days of old, He despises the rottenness, You are my mother. He has present age as an innovation, and lights no providence nor foresight; for all his the future; but has a great value for that contemplations look backwards upon the which is part and gone, like the madman days of old; and his brains are turned with that fell in love with Cleopatra. He is them as if he walked backwards. He had an old frippery-philosopher, that has so rather interpret one obscure word in any strange a natural affection to worm-eaten old senseless discourse, than be author of the speculation, that it is apparent he has a most ingenious new one; and with Scali- . worm in his skull. He honours his fore- ger, would sell the empire of Germany, fathers and foremothers, but condemns his (if it were in his power) for an old song, parents as too modern, and no better than He devours an old manuscript with greater upstarts. He neglects himself because he relish than worms and moths do; and, was born in his own time, and so far off though there be nothing in it, values it antiquity, which he so much admires; and above any thing printed, which he acrepines like a younger brother, because he counts a novelty. When he happens to came so late into the world. He spends cure a small botch in an old author, he is the one half of his time in collecting old as proud of it, as if he had got the phiinfignificant trifles, and the other in Thew- Jornphers stone, and could cure all the difing them, which he takes fingular delight in, cases of mankind. He values things because the oftener he does it, the farther wrongfully upon their antiquity, forgetthey are from being new to him. All his cu- ting that the most modern are really the riofties take place of one another accerd. most ancient of all things in the world ; April, 1763.
like jike those that reckon their pounds before are long lince out of use; as the Catholics their Millings and pence, of which they allow of no faints, but such as are dead; are made up. He esteems no customs and the Fanatics, in opposition, of none but such as have outlived themselves, and but the living."
The VISITOR. NUMB. XCIV. [From the Public LEDGER.] MA Atrimonial complaints are so com. a chit chat vifitor, or to hurry away to 1 1 mon, that they are little regarded; some hop, auction, fight, walks, or what but it does not follow from thence, that not: the makes a shift just to get in time they are less afflicting. It is some relief to enough to decorate her head for dinner, unburthen the mind; and if I gain no 0- and then fits down, with a thousand apother advantage, I fall at least obtain that logies to any friends I happen to bring by your favourable admission of my cafe. in .... " Really she has been so immodeI am a merchant of this respectable city, rately hurried, and such a profufion of of no inconfiderable fortune and rank, and business to do, that she could not pofsibly I am very willing to live in a manner suit. get quite drest." However, she flies away able to my station : I abhor meanness, foon after dinner to this work, in which but I love propriety. I have been honour two or three hours are generally spent uped with my present wife's hand and heart on herself, and her two eldest daughters. (I hope) now near 15 years, and till within Two fine girls enough....But oh, Mr. Vithese two or three years past, we lived de stor, it makes my heart ach to think cently, pleasingly, and frugally. I saved what must be the end of this ! Early inimoney, and tho' I have four daughters, tiated into pleasure, what a taste must they besides two sors, I can give them five have for it! Early attached to the luxury thousand pounds a piece : But alas ! what and extravagance of dress and gaiety, are five thousand pounds to support the what fortune will be equal to their exmanner of life, in which my good wise pences ! Uncultivated in mind, what thinks fit to bring them up!
wretched wives and companions must they For you must know, that having picked make! Who can wonder, that educated up some acquaintance at the other end of as our modern misses are, men are afraid the town, having gained a high goût for to marry them, and prefer a less honourcards and gaiety, by an unfortunate jour. able connection. I am satisfied, that the ney to Bath, and having been much con- interest of the fortune I had proposed to fulted and considered in our merchants af- give my daughters, will scarce be sufficient sembly, my poor wife's brain is turn'd, to supply their heads only, with ornaSir ; actually turn'd; and the has certain ments! Fisty guineas not long lince were Jy forgotten, or at leaft no longer is able paid for one garnet cap! And the mischief to discharge the proper duties of wife, is, I cannot prevent this! Now you must mother, mistress, neighbour, or friend. discern that I have no satisfaction in the
This is a heavy charge: but be patient a converse of such a wife, perpetually in a while, and I'll make it good.
hurry herself, and endeavouring always to She is continually engaged; her ac- make me fo, by engaging me in every quaintance, as she expresses it, is immense: party where the can; and ever condemn. the can scarcely be civil to balf of them : ing my city and old-fashioned notions, the is for ever hurrying to routs and par. (as the calls them) when I remonstrate eiries a: cards, or making my house a place ther against her own manner of proceedof everlasting rout and consulion. Nothing ing, or her method of educating my but dress, pleasure, noire, cards, nonsense, daughters. and company run in ber head ! She returns Now, Mr. Visitor, as I am well convinced Some, perhaps, at two, three, or four in mine is no singular cafe, I know that I ha e the inorning, from her nocturnal orgies ; many fellow sufferers; and as this deftrucmy fervants are kept up accordingly; í tive love and pursuit of pleasure, is evė. am disturbed, and the whole family dif- ry day growing more and more predomi. ordered. She cannot rise very early, as nant in our city, let me intreat you to inyou may imagine: if Me is half dretied by form the ladies, how'unseemingly and pertwelve, it is Icarce time enough to receive nicious, how fatal to conjugal felicity, and every social virtue this manner of living I was again happily freed from the yake must needs be. Belides, let the ladies es- under which I am at present bound, not pecially consider, that while the men ob- all the universe Mould influence me to che serve such uneasy consequences from the forfeiture of my freedom. For I am dematrimonial alliance, they will not be very prived of all domestic peace and satisfacready to engage in it; and should this tion : I see my family educated in false principle greatly prevail, it would be and ruinous principles; and I feel my not advantageous to the female part of the substance hurt by expences, which I can commonwealth. I will be very honest, for neither retrench nor afford. I am, &c. my own part, and declare frankly, that if
A Husband !
A Lester from a Gentleman among the Dead to Lord Lyttleton.
whether they approved of it or not, the A S your lordship's Dialogues are a proof, voters, as soon as the majority of voices
that you hold a correspondence with the had determined the choice, immediately Dead, and are obliged to them for intel. put the candidate, for whom this majority ligence of what paffes below, we think we was found, into a chair, and carried him have a right to enquire of your lordship, by force through the shouting multitude, wbat is doing in the world above: and as in this involuntary triumph, to the returnI see you are equally acquainted with the ing officer. The like season continues che time past and the present, I am more fol- like practice with you in chairing your licitous for your opinion upon what fol. speaker for the commons, when he is cholows, than of any of my learned friends fen by the house. He is unwilling to un. here at hand.
dertake the important business, but is I should be glad to learn of your lord. forced to submit to the general choice, tho', thip, what you think of our good old con- in the language of a bishop at his election flitution being so much altered from what to the fee, he loudly cries out, Nolo epilit was in Edward the Third's time, when I copari. I cannot help exprefsing my fao had the honour of fitting in parliament. One tisfaction here, that there is no reason of the honeft fellows, who came as drunk to imagine we fall soon see this conduct as he could with, from your regions to reversed either in a bishop or a speaker : ours the other day, said he was obliged that the one will be as anxious for the to an election mob for this journey. Upon chair and the other for the crosier, as every talking with him, I found he had received candidate seems to be for a seat in parfifty guineas for his vote, had been kept liament. drunk for a week at the expence of his can. Before an election for members, we didate, and that twenty thousand pounds dreaded being chosen, though we were to had been spent at the election before he be paid for our attendance in parliament, left it. How different is this, my lord, ... for a knight 45. a citizen and burgers from what it was in my days? No pains 25 per day wages, according to the value were spared with us to avoid what you of money in your days, equal to 41. a court at any labour and cost. We used to day for a knight, and 21. for a citizen or make as strong interest to be excused serye burgers. But how is the case altered? ing as a knight or a burgess, as your coun. Your commoners tremble, left they mould try gentlemen do to escape serving as be thrown out, and frequently part with Theriff, Your commoners may decline half their estate to secure their election, standing, when nominated at a general though they desire no wages at all. meeting of the county : we were obliged It was very common in my days for the to ferve, if our freemen were desirous of members to sue the county for their wages; ele&iog us.
while yours are continually rewarding The practice of chairing the candidate, their constituents for the honour of rewhich Gill, I find, obtains among you as presenting them. We thought the oblian old custom, was well supported by gation conferred by the members ; you fence and reason with us. As our mem- think it received. bers were elected so serve in parliament, Your parliament, by makirg ftatuies