We got in hither, and my companion threw a powder round us, that made me as invisible as himself; so that we could see and hear all others; ourselves unseen and unheard.
The first thing we took notice of, was a nobleman of a goodly and frank aspect, with his generous birth and temper visible in it, playing at cards with a creature of a black and horrid countenance, wherein were plainly delineated the arts of his mind, cozenage and falsehood. They were marking their game with counters, on which we could see inscriptions, imperceptible to any but us. My lord had scored with pieces of ivory, on which were writ, Good Fame, Glory, Riches, Honour, and Posterity. The spectre over against him had on his counters the inscriptions of, Dishonour, Impudence, Poverty, Ignorance, and Want of Shame. "Bless me!" said I, "sure my lord does not see what he plays for!" "As well as I do," says Pacolet. "He despises that fellow he plays with, and scorns himself for making him his companion." At the very instant he was speaking, I saw the fellow who played with my lord, hide two cards in the roll of his stocking: Pacolet immediately stole them from thence; upon which the nobleman soon after won the game. The little triumph he appeared in, when he got such a trifling stock of ready money, though he had ventured so great sums with indifference, increased my admiration. But Pacolet began to talk to me. "Mr. Isaac, this to you looks wonderful, but not at all to us higher beings: that noble has as many good qualities as any man of his order, and seems to have no faults but what, as I may say, are excrescences from virtues: he is generous to a prodigality, more affable than is consistent with his quality, and courageous to a rashness. Yet, after all this, the source of his whole conduct is (though he would hate himself if he knew it) mere avarice. The ready cash laid before the gamester's counters makes him venture, as you see, and lay distinction against infamy, abundance against want; in a word, all that's desirable against all that's to be avoided." "However," said I, "be sure you disappoint the sharpers to-night, and steal from them all the cards they hide." Pacolet obeyed me, and my lord went home with their whole bank in his pocket.
Will's Coffee-house, May 13.
To-night was acted a second time a comedy, called "The Busy Body:"[206] this play is written by a lady. In old times, we used to sit upon a play here after it was acted; but now the entertainment is turned another way; not but there are considerable men appear in all ages, who, for some eminent quality or invention, deserve the esteem and thanks of the public. Such a benefactor is a gentleman of this house, who is observed by the surgeons with much envy; for he has invented an engine for the prevention of harms by love adventures, and by great care and application, hath made it an immodesty to name his name. This act of self-denial has gained this worthy member of the commonwealth a great reputation. Some lawgivers have departed from their abodes for ever, and commanded the observation of their laws till their return; others have used other artifices to fly the applause of their merit; but this person shuns glory with greater address, and has, by giving his engine his own name, made it obscene to speak of him more. However, he is ranked among, and received by the modern wits, as a great promoter of gallantry and pleasure. But I fear, pleasure is less understood in this age, which so much pretends to it, than in any since the creation. It was admirably said of him who first took notice, that (res est severa voluptas) there is a certain severity in pleasure. Without that, all decency is banished; and if reason is not to be present at our greatest satisfactions, of all the races of creatures, the human is the most miserable. It was not so of old; when Virgil describes a wit, he always means a virtuous man; and all his sentiments of men of genius are such as show persons distinguished from the common level of mankind; such as placed happiness in the contempt of low fears, and mean gratifications: fears, which we are subject to with the vulgar; and pleasures, which we have in common with beasts. With these illustrious personages, the wisest man was the greatest wit; and none was thought worthy of that character, unless he answered this excellent description of the poet:
Qui—metus omnes et inexorabile fatum
Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari.[207]
St. James's Coffee-house, May 13.
We had this morning advice, that some English merchant-ships, convoyed by the Bristol of fifty-four guns, were met with by a part of Mons. du Guy Trouin's squadron, who engaged the convoy. That ship defended itself till the English merchants got clear of the enemy, but being disabled was herself taken. Within few hours after, my Lord Dursley[208] came up with part of his squadron and engaging the French, retook the Bristol (which being very much shattered, sunk), and took the Glorieux, a ship of forty-four guns, as also a privateer of fourteen. Before this action, his lordship had taken two French merchant-men; and had, at the despatch of these advices, brought the whole safe into Plymouth.
Probably William Oliver, M.D., F.R.S., who published a Dissertation on Bath waters, and cold baths, in 1709 (Flying Post, Feb. 10 to 12, 1709). Sir John Floyer's "Inquiry into the right Use and Abuses of the Hot, Cold, and Temperate Baths in England, &c.," appeared in 1697.
By Mrs. Susannah Centlivre, a lady of Whig views, who was possessed of considerable beauty. (See also [No. 19].) Isaac Bickerstaff had promised a prologue to "The Busy Body" before it was to be first played, as appears from a poetical epistle of Mrs. Centlivre, claiming the performance of such a promise, printed by Charles Lillie ("Orig. Letters to Tatler and Spectator" vol. ii. pp. 33, 34). Leigh Hunt ("The Town") suggests that Pope put Mrs. Centlivre in the "Dunciad" (ii. 410—"At last Centlivre felt her voice to fail") on account of her intimacy with Steele and other friends of Addison. Mrs. Centlivre (1667-1723) married, as her second husband, Mr. Carrol, a gentleman of the army, and afterwards Mr. Joseph Centlivre, principal cook to Queen Anne, 1706.