White's Chocolate-house, July 19.
This day, passing through Covent Garden, I was stopped in the Piazza by Pacolet, to observe what he called the "triumph of love and youth." I turned to the object he pointed at; and there I saw a gay gilt chariot drawn by fresh prancing horses; the coachman with a new cockade, and the lackeys with insolence and plenty in their countenances. I asked immediately, what young heir or lover owned that glittering equipage? But my companion interrupted: "Do not you see there the mourning Æsculapius?"[424] "The mourning!" said I. "Yes, Isaac," said Pacolet, "he is in deep mourning, and is the languishing hopeless lover of the divine Hebe, the emblem of youth and beauty. The excellent and learned sage you behold in that furniture, is the strongest instance imaginable, that love is the most powerful of all things. You are not so ignorant as to be a stranger to the character of Æsculapius, as the patron and most successful of all who profess the art of medicine. But as most of his operations are owing to a natural sagacity or impulse, he has very little troubled himself with the doctrine of drugs; but has always given Nature more room to help herself, than any of her learned assistants; and consequently has done greater wonders than is in the power of art to perform;[425] for which reason, he is half deified by the people; and has ever been justly courted by all the world, as if he were a seventh son. It happened, that the charming Hebe was reduced, by a long and violent fever, to the most extreme danger of death; and when all skill failed, they sent for Æsculapius. The renowned artist was touched with the deepest compassion to see the faded charms and faint bloom of Hebe; and had a generous concern in beholding a struggle, not between life, but rather between youth, and death. All his skill and his passion tended to the recovery of Hebe, beautiful even in sickness: but, alas! the unhappy physician knew not, that in all his care he was only sharpening darts for his own destruction. In a word, his fortune was the same with that of the statuary, who fell in love with the image of his own making; and the unfortunate Æsculapius is become the patient of her whom he lately recovered. Long before this disaster, Æsculapius was far gone in the unnecessary and superfluous amusements of old age, in increasing unwieldy stores, and providing, in the midst of an incapacity of enjoyment of what he had, for a supply of more wants than he had calls for in youth itself. But these low considerations are now no more, and love has taken place of avarice, or rather has become an avarice of another kind, which still urges him to pursue what he does not want. But behold the metamorphosis; the anxious mean cares of an usurer are turned into the languishments and complaints of a lover. 'Behold,' says the aged Æsculapius, 'I submit, I own, great Love, thy empire: pity, Hebe, the fop you have made: what have I to do with gilding but on pills? Yet, O fair! For thee I sit amidst a crowd of painted deities on my chariot, buttoned in gold, clasped in gold, without having any value for that beloved metal, but as it adorns the person, and laces the hat of thy dying lover. I ask not to live, O Hebe! Give me but gentle death: euthanasia, euthanasia, that is all I implore.'" When Æsculapius had finished his complaint, Pacolet went on in deep morals on the uncertainty of riches, with this remarkable exclamation; "O wealth! How impotent art thou! And how little dost thou supply us with real happiness, when the usurer himself can forget thee for the love of what is as foreign to his felicity as thou art?"
Will's Coffee-house, July 19.
The company here, who have all a delicate taste of theatrical representations, had made a gathering to purchase the movables of the neighbouring playhouse,[426] for the encouragement of one which is setting up in the Haymarket. But the proceedings at the auction (by which method the goods have been sold this evening) have been so unfair, that this generous design has been frustrated; for the Imperial Mantle made for Cyrus was missing, as also the Chariot and Two Dragons: but upon examination it was found, that a gentleman of Hampshire[427] had clandestinely bought them both, and is gone down to his country seat; and that on Saturday last he passed through Staines attired in that robe, and drawn by the said Dragons, assisted by two only of his own horses. This theatrical traveller has also left orders with Mr. Hall[428] to send the faded rainbow to the scourers, and when it comes home, to despatch it after him. At the same time C—— R——[429] Esq. is invited to bring down himself his Setting Sun, and be box-keeper to a theatre erected by this gentleman near Southampton. Thus there has been nothing but artifice in the management of this affair; for which reason I beg pardon of the town, that I inserted the inventory in my paper and solemnly protest, I knew nothing of this artful design of vending these rarities: but I meant only the good of the world in that and all other things which I divulge. And now I am upon this subject, I must do myself justice in relation to an article in a former paper, wherein I made mention of a person who keeps a puppet-show in the town of Bath;[430] I was tender of naming names, and only just hinted, that he makes larger promises, when he invites people to his dramatic representations, than he is able to perform: but I am credibly informed, that he makes a profane lewd jester, which he calls Punch, speak to the dishonour of Isaac Bickerstaff with great familiarity; and before all my learned friends in that place, takes upon him to dispute my title to the appellation of Esquire. I think I need not say much to convince all the world, that this Mr. Powell (for that is his name) is a pragmatical and vain person to pretend to argue with me on any subject. Mecum certasse feretur[431]; that is to say, it will be an honour to him to have it said he contended with me; but I would have him to know, that I can look beyond his wires, and know very well the whole trick of his art, and that it is only by these wires that the eye of the spectator is cheated, and hindered from seeing that there is a thread on one of Punch's chops, which draws it up, and lets it fall at the discretion of the said Powell, who stands behind and plays him, and makes him speak saucily of his betters. He! to pretend to make prologues against me! But a man never behaves himself with decency in his own case; therefore I shall command myself, and never trouble me further with this little fellow, who is himself but a tall puppet, and has not brains enough to make even wood speak as it ought to do: and I, that have heard the groaning board,[432] can despise all that his puppets shall be able to speak as long as they live. But, Ex quovis ligno non fit Mercurius[433]. He has pretended to write to me also from the Bath, and says, he thought to have deferred giving me an answer till he came to his books[434]; but that my writings might do well with the waters: which are pert expressions that become a schoolboy, better than one that is to teach others: and when I have said a civil thing to him, he cries, "Oh! I thank you for that—I am your humble servant for that."[435] Ah! Mr. Powell, these smart civilities will never run down men of learning: I know well enough your design is to have all men automata, like your puppets; but the world is grown too wise, and can look through these thin devices. I know you design to make a reply to this; but be sure you stick close to my words; for if you bring me into discourses concerning the government of your puppets, I must tell you, I neither am, nor have been, nor will be, at leisure to answer you. It is really a burning shame this man should be tolerated in abusing the world with such representations of things: but his parts decay, and he is not much more alive than Partridge.
From my own Apartment, July 14.
I must beg pardon of my readers that for this time I have, I fear, huddled up my discourse, having been very busy in helping an old friend of mine out of town. He has a very good estate, is a man of wit; but he had been three years absent from town, and cannot bear a jest; for which reason I have, with some pains, convinced him, that he can no more live here than if he were a downright bankrupt. He was so fond of dear London, that he began to fret only inwardly; but being unable to laugh and be laughed at, I took a place in the northern coach for him and his family; and hope he is got to-night safe from all sneerers in his own parlour.
St. James's Coffee-house, July 20.
This morning we received by express, the agreeable news of the surrender of the town of Tournay on the 28th instant, N.S. The place was assaulted at the attacks of General Schuylemburg, and that of General Lottum, at the same time. The action at both those parts of the town was very obstinate, and the Allies lost a considerable number at the beginning of the dispute; but the fight was continued with so great bravery, that the enemy observing that we were masters of all the posts which were necessary for a general attack, beat the chamade,[436] and hostages were received from the town, and others sent from the besiegers, in order to come to a formal capitulation for the surrender of the place. We have also this day received advice, that Sir John Leake, who lies off of Dunkirk, had intercepted several ships laden with corn from the Baltic; and that the Dutch privateers had fallen in with others, and carried them into Holland. The French letters advise, that the young son to the Duke of Anjou lived but eight days.
Dr. John Radcliffe, the physician (1650-1714), was disappointed in love when about sixty. The matter is referred to again in Nos. [46], [47], 50 and 67. Radcliffe became rich, but was considered to be a quack by many other doctors. "The last Tatler is upon Dr. Ratclif who they say is desparately in love with Dutchess of Bolton, his passion runs so high as to declare he'll make her eldest son his heir, upon wch account they say the Duke of B—— is not at all alarm'd, but gives the Old amorist opportunity to make his Court, the Dr. lately gave the Dutchess and some other Ladys an entertainm' of musick upon the water, and a fine supper in the Barge" ("Wentworth Papers," p. 97). This identification of Hebe with the Duchess of Bolton is corroborated by the MS. annotator mentioned in a note to [No. 4]. According to another account she was a Miss Tempest, a maid of honour to the Queen. The writer of the article on Radcliffe in the "Biog. Britannica" says: "The lady, who made the doctor, at this advanced age, stand in need of a physician himself, was of great beauty, wealth, and quality; and too attractive not to inspire the coldest heart with the warmest sentiments. After he had made a cure of her, he could not but imagine, as naturally he might, that her ladyship would entertain a favourable opinion of him. But the lady, however grateful she might be for the care he had taken of her health, divulged the secret, and one of her confidants revealed it to Steele, who, on account of party, was so ill-natured as to write the ridicule of it in the Tatler" Radcliffe never married.
I have a pamphlet called "The Tatler's Character (July 21) of Æsculapius guessing diseases, without the knowledge of drugs; applied to the British Physicians and Surgeons: or, The difficult diseases of the Royal Family, Nobility and Gentry will never be understood and recover'd, when the populace are oppress'd and destroy'd by the Practising-Apothecaries and Empiricks confess'd by the College and Mr. Bernard the Surgeon. By a Consultation of Gentlemen of Quality." London, 8vo, 1709. The pamphlet contains some interesting remarks on the physicians, apothecaries and hospitals of the time. Mr. Bickerstaff is called "the most ingenious physician of our vices and follies."