No. 403. For this Reason, when any publick Affair is upon the Thursday, Anvil, I love to hear the Reflections that arise upon it in June 12, the several Districts and Parishes of London and West 1712. minster, and to ramble up and down a whole Day together, in order to make my self acquainted with the Opinions of my ingenious Countrymen. By this means I know the Faces of all the principal Politicians within the Bills of Mortality; and as every Coffee-house has some particular Statesman belonging to it, who is the Mouth of the Street where he lives, I always take care to place my self near him, in order to know his Judgment on the present Posture of Affairs. The last Progress that I made with this Intention, was about three Months ago, when we had a Current Report of the King of France's Death, As I foresaw this would produce a new Face of things in Europe, and many curious Speculations in our British Coffee houses, I was very desirous to learn the Thoughts of our most eminent Politicians on that Occasion. That I might begin as near the Fountain-head as possible, I first of all called in at St. James's, where I found the whole outward Room in a Buzz of Politics, The Speculations were but very indifferent towards the Door, but grew finer as you advanced to the upper end of the Room, and were so very much improved by a Knot of Theorists, who sate in the inner Room, within the Steams of the Coffee-Pot, that I there heard the whole Spanish Monarchy disposed of, and all the Line of Bour bon provided for in less than a Quarter of an Hour, I afterwards called in at Giles's, where I saw a Board of French Gentlemen sitting upon the Life and Death of their Grand Monarque. Those among them who had espoused the Wigg Interest, very positively affirmed, that he departed this Life about a Week since, and therefore proceeded without any further Delay to the Release of their Friends on the Gallies, and to their own Re establishment; but finding they could not agree among themselves, I proceeded on my intended Progress, Upon my Arrival at Jenny Man's, I saw an alerte young Fellow that cocked his Hat upon a Friend of his who entered just at the same time with my self, and accosted him after the following manner. Well Jack, the old 1712. old Prig is dead at last, Sharp's the Word. Now or No. 403, never Boy, Up to the Walls of París directly, With Thursday, several other deep Reflections of the same Nature, June 12, I met with very little variation in the Politics between Charing Cross and Covent Garden. And upon my going into Will's I found their Discourse was gone off from the Death of the French King to that of Monsieur Boileau, Racine, Corneille, and several other Poets, whom they regretted on this Occasion, as Persons who would have obliged the World with very noble Elegies on the Death of so great a Prince, and so eminent a Patron of Learning, At a Coffee-house near the Temple, I found a couple of young Gentlemen engaged very smartly in a Dispute on the Succession to the Spanish Monarchy. One of them seemed to have been retained as Advocate for the Duke of Anjou, the other for his Imperial Majesty. They were both for regulating the Title to that Kingdom by the Statute Laws of England; but finding them going out of my Depth I passed forward to Paul's Church-yard, where I listned with great Attention to a learned Man, who gave the Company an Account of the deplorable State of France during the Minority of the deceased King, I then turned on my right Hand into Fish-street, where the chief Politician of that Quarter, upon hearing the News, (after having taken a Pipe of Tobacco, and ruminated for some time) If, says he, the King of France is certainly dead, we shall have plenty of Mackerel this Season; our Fishery will not be disturbed by Privateers, as it has been for these ten Years past. He afterwards considered how the Death of this great Man would affect our Pilchards, and by several other Remarks infused a general Joy into his whole Audience, I afterwards entered a By-Coffee-house that stood at the upper End of a narrow Lane, where I met with a Nonjuror, engaged very warmly with a Laceman who was the great Support of a neighbouring Conventicle, The Matter in Debate was, whether the late French King was most like Augustus Cæsar, or Nero, The Con troversie was carried on with great Heat on both sides, and as each of them looked upon me very frequently during No. 403, during the Course of their Debate, I was under some Thursday, Apprehension that they would appeal to me, and there June 12, fore laid down my Penny at the Barr, and made the best of my way to Cheapside, 1712. I here gazed upon the Signs for some time before I found one to my Purpose. The first Object I met in the Coffee-room was a Person who expressed a great Grief for the Death of the French King; but upon his explaining himself, I found his Sorrow did not arise from the Loss of the Monarch, but for his having sold out of the Bank about three Days before he heard the News of it: Upon which a Haberdasher, who was the Oracle of the Coffee-house, and had his Circle of Admirers about him, called several to witness that he had declared his Opinion above a Week before, that the French King was certainly dead; to which he added, that considering the late Advices we had received from France, it was impossible that it could be otherwise. As he was laying these together, and dictating to his Hearers with great Authority, there came in a Gentleman from Garraway's, who told us that there were several Letters from France just come in, with Advice that the King was in good Health, and was gone out a Hunting the very Morning the Post came away: Upon which the Haberdasher stole off his Hat that hung upon a Wooden Pegg by him, and retired to his Shop with great Confusion. This Intelligence put a Stop to my Travels, which I had prosecuted with much Satis faction; not being a little pleased to hear so many different Opinions upon so great an Event, and to observe how naturally upon such a Piece of News every one is apt to consider it with a regard to his particular Interest and Advantage, No. 404. N Friday, June 13, L Non omnia possumus omnes-Virg. deviates 1712. deviates, it becomes unfit to answer those Ends for which No. 404. it was design'd. In like Manner it is in the Dispositions Friday, of Society, the civil Oeconomy is formed in a Chain as June 13, well as the natural; and in either Case the Breach but of one Link puts the whole in some Disorder. It is, I think, pretty plain, that most of the Absurdity and Ridicule we meet with in the World, is generally owing to the impertinent Affectation of excelling in Characters Men are not fit for, and for which Nature never designed them, Every Man has one or more Qualities which may make him useful both to himself and others: Nature never fails of pointing them out, and while the Infant continues under her Guardianship, she brings him on in his Way, and then offers herself for a Guide in what remains of the Journey; if he proceeds in that Course, he can hardly miscarry Nature makes good her Engage ments; for as she never promises what she is not able to perform, so she never fails of performing what she promises. But the Misfortune is, Men despise what they may be Masters of, and affect what they are not fit for; they reckon themselves already possessed of what their Genius inclined them to, and so bend all their Ambition to excell in what is out of their Reach: Thus they destroy the Use of their natural Talents, in the same Manner as covetous Men do their Quiet and Repose; they can enjoy no Satisfaction in what they have, because of the absurd Inclination they are possessed with for what they have not, Cleanthes had good Sense, a great Memory, and a Constitution capable of the closest Application: In a Word, there was no Profession in which Cleanthes might not have made a very good Figure; but this won't satisfy him, he takes up an unaccountable Fondness for the Character of a fine Gentleman; all his Thoughts are bent upon this, instead of attending a Dissection, frequenting the Courts of Justice, or studying the Fathers. Cleanthes reads Plays, dances, dresses and spends his Time in Drawing-rooms, instead of being a good Lawyer, Divine, or Physician; Cleanthes is a downright Coxcomb, and will remain to all that knew him a contemptible Example of Talents misapplied VI. C No. 404. Friday, June 13, 1712. misapplied. It is to this Affectation the World owes its whole Race of Coxcombs: Nature in her whole Drama never drew such a Part; she has sometimes made a Fool, but a Coxcomb is always of a Man's own making, by applying his Talents otherwise than Nature designed, who ever bears an high Resentment for being put out of her Course, and never fails of taking her Revenge on those that do so. Opposing her Tendency in the Applica tion of a Man's Parts, has the same Success as declining from her Course in the Production of Vegetables, by the Assistance of Art and an hot Bed: We may possibly extort an unwilling Plant, or an untimely Sallad; but how weak, how tasteless and insipid? Just as insipid as the Poetry of Valerio: Valerio had an universal Character, was genteel, had Learning, thought justly, spoke correctly; 'twas believed there was nothing in which Valerio did not excell; and 'twas so far true, that there was but one; Valerio had no Genius for Poetry, yet he's resolved to be a Poet; he writes Verses, and takes great Pains to con vince the Town, that Valerio is not that extraordinary Person he was taken for. If Men would be content to graft upon Nature, and assist her Operations, what mighty Effects might we expect? Tully would not stand so much alone in Oratory, Virgil in Poetry, or Caesar in War. To build upon Nature, is laying the Foundation upon a Rock; every thing disposes it self into Order as it were of Course, and the whole Work is half done as soon as undertaken, Cicero's Genius inclined him to Oratory, Virgil's to follow the Train of the Muses; they piously obey'd the Admonition, and were rewarded. Had Virgil attended the Bar, his modest and ingenious Virtue would surely have made but a very indifferent Figure; and Tully's declamatory Inclination would have been as use less in Poetry, Nature, if left to her self, leads us on in the best Course, but will do nothing by Compulsion and Constraint; and if we are not satisfied to go her Way, we are always the greatest Sufferers by it, Wherever Nature designs a Production, she always disposes Seeds proper for it, which are as absolutely necessary to the Formation of any moral or intellectual Excellence |