From Thursday, Sept. 8, to Saturday, Sept. 10, 1709.

Will's Coffee-house, Sept. 9.[113]

The subject of the discourse this evening was Eloquence and Graceful Action. Lysander, who is something particular in his way of thinking and speaking, told us, a man could not be eloquent without action: for the deportment of the body, the turn of the eye, and an apt sound to every word that is uttered, must all conspire to make an accomplished speaker. Action in one that speaks in public, is the same thing as a good mien in ordinary life. Thus, as a certain insensibility in the countenance recommends a sentence of humour and jest, so it must be a very lively consciousness that gives grace to great sentiments. The jest is to be a thing unexpected; therefore your undesigning manner is a beauty in expressions of mirth; but when you are to talk on a set subject, the more you are moved yourself, the more you will move others. "There is," said he, "a remarkable example of that kind: Æschines, a famous orator of antiquity, had pleaded at Athens in a great cause against Demosthenes; but having lost it, retired to Rhodes. Eloquence was then the quality most admired among men; and the magistrates of that place having heard he had a copy of the speech of Demosthenes, desired him to repeat both their pleadings. After his own, he recited also the oration of his antagonist. The people expressed their admiration of both, but more of that of Demosthenes. 'If you are,' said he, 'thus touched with hearing only what that great orator said, how would you have been affected had you seen him speak? For he who hears Demosthenes only, loses much the better part of the oration.' Certain it is, that they who speak gracefully, are very lamely represented in having their speeches read or repeated by unskilful people; for there is something native to each man, so inherent to his thoughts and sentiments, which it is hardly possible for another to give a true idea of. You may observe in common talk, when a sentence of any man's is repeated, an acquaintance of his shall immediately observe, 'That is so like him, methinks I see how he looked when he said it.' But of all the people on the earth, there are none who puzzle me so much as the clergy of Great Britain, who are, I believe, the most learned body of men now in the world; and yet this art of speaking, with the proper ornaments of voice and gesture, is wholly neglected among them; and I'll engage, were a deaf man to behold the greater part of them preach, he would rather think they were reading the contents only of some discourse they intended to make, than actually in the body of an oration, even when they are upon matters of such a nature as one would believe it were impossible to think of without emotion. I own there are exceptions to this general observation, and that the Dean[114] we heard the other day together, is an orator. He has so much regard to his congregation, that he commits to his memory what he is to say to them; and has so soft and graceful a behaviour, that it must attract your attention. His person, it is to be confessed, is no small recommendation; but he is to be highly commended for not losing that advantage, and adding to the propriety of speech (which might pass the criticism of Longinus) an action which would have been approved by Demosthenes. He has a peculiar force in his way, and has many of his audience[115] who could not be intelligent hearers of his discourse, were there not explanation as well as grace in his action. This art of his is used with the most exact and honest skill. He never attempts your passions till he has convinced your reason. All the objections which he can form are laid open and dispersed, before he uses the least vehemence in his sermon; but when he thinks he has your head, he very soon wins your heart; and never pretends to show the beauty of holiness till he hath convinced you of the truth of it. Would every one of our clergymen be thus careful to recommend truth and virtue in their proper figures, and show so much concern for them as to give them all the additional force they were able, it is not possible that nonsense should have so many hearers as you find it has in dissenting congregations, for no reason in the world but because it is spoken extempore; for ordinary minds are wholly governed by their eyes and ears, and there is no way to come at their hearts but by power over their imaginations. There is my friend and merry companion Daniel:[116] he knows a great deal better than he speaks, and can form a proper discourse as well as any orthodox neighbour. But he knows very well, that to bawl out, My beloved! and the words, Grace! Regeneration! Sanctification! A new light! The day! the day! ay, my beloved, the day! or rather, the night! the night is coming! and judgment will come, when we least think of it! and so forth—he knows to be vehement is the only way to come at his audience. Daniel, when he sees my friend Greenhat come in, can give him a good hint, and cry out, This is only for the saints! the regenerated! By this force of action, though mixed with all the incoherence and ribaldry imaginable, Daniel can laugh at his diocesan, and grow fat by voluntary subscription, while the parson of the parish goes to law for half his dues. Daniel will tell you, it is not the shepherd, but the sheep with the bell, which the flock follows. Another thing very wonderful this learned body should omit, is, learning to read; which is a most necessary part of eloquence in one who is to serve at the altar: for there is no man but must be sensible, that the lazy tone and inarticulate sound of our common readers, depreciates the most proper form of words that were ever extant in any nation or language, to speak our own wants, or His power from whom we ask relief. There cannot be a greater instance of the power of action than in little Parson Dapper,[117] who is the common relief to all the lazy pulpits in town. This smart youth has a very good memory, a quick eye, and a clean handkerchief. Thus equipped, he opens his text, shuts his book fairly, shows he has no notes in his Bible, opens both palms, and shows all is fair there too. Thus, with a decisive air, my young man goes on without hesitation; and though, from the beginning to the end of his pretty discourse, he has not used one proper gesture, yet at the conclusion the church-warden pulls his gloves from off his head; 'Pray, who is this extraordinary young man?' Thus the force of action is such, that it is more prevalent, even when improper, than all the reason and argument in the world without it." This gentleman concluded his discourse by saying, "I do not doubt but if our preachers would learn to speak, and our readers to read, within six months' time we should not have a dissenter within a mile of a church in Great Britain."

From my own Apartment, Sept. 9.

I have a letter from a young fellow who complains to me, that he was bred a mercer, and is now just out of his time, but unfortunately (for he has no manner of education suitable to his present estate) an uncle has left him £1000 per annum.

The young man is sensible that he is so spruce, that he fears he shall never be genteel as long as he lives, but applies himself to me, to know what method to take to help his air and be a fine gentleman. He adds, that several of those ladies who were formerly his customers, visit his mother on purpose to fall in his way, and fears he shall be obliged to marry against his will; "for," says he, "if any one of them should ask me, I shall not be able to deny her. I am," says he further, "utterly at a loss how to deal with them; for though I was the most pert creature in the world when I was foreman, and could hand a woman of the first quality to her coach, as well as her own gentleman-usher, I am now quite out of my way, and speechless in their company. They commend my modesty to my face. No one scruples to say, I should certainly make the best husband in the world, a man of my sober education. Mrs. Would-be watches all opportunities to be alone with me. Therefore, good Mr. Bickerstaff, here are my writings enclosed; if you can find any flaw in my title, so as it may go to the next heir, who goes to St. James's Coffee-house, and White's, and could enjoy it, I should be extremely well pleased with two thousand pounds to set up my trade, and live in a way I know I should become, rather than be laughed at all my life among too good company. If you could send for my cousin, and persuade him to take the estate on these terms, and let nobody know it, you would extremely oblige me."

Upon first sight, I thought this a very whimsical proposal; however, upon more mature consideration, I could not but admire the young gentleman's prudence and good sense; for there is nothing so irksome as living in a way a man knows he does not become. I consulted Mr. Obadiah Greenhat on this occasion, and he is so well pleased with the man, that he has half a mind to take the estate himself; but upon second thoughts he proposed this expedient. "I should be very willing," said he, "to keep the estate where it is, if we could make the young man any way easy; therefore I humbly propose he should take to drinking for one half-year, and make a sloven of him, and from thence begin his education anew: for it is a maxim, that one who is ill taught is in a worse condition than he who is wholly ignorant; therefore a spruce mercer is further off the air of a fine gentleman than a downright clown. To make our patient anything better, we must unmake him what he is." I indeed proposed to flux him; but Greenhat answered, that if he recovered, he would be as prim and feat as ever he was: therefore he would have it his way; and our friend is to drink till he is carbuncled, and tun-bellied; after which we will send him down to smoke, and be buried with his ancestors in Derbyshire. I am indeed desirous he should have his life in the estate, because he has such a just sense of himself and his abilities, to know that it is an unhappiness to him to be a man of fortune. This youth seems to understand, that a gentleman's life is that of all others the hardest to pass through with propriety of behaviour; for though he has a support without art or labour, yet his manner of enjoying that circumstance is a thing to be considered; and you see among men who are honoured with the common appellation of gentlemen, so many contradictions to that character, that it is the utmost ill-fortune to bear it: for which reason I am obliged to change the circumstances of several about this town. Harry Lacker is so very exact in his dress, that I shall give his estate to his younger brother, and make him a dancing master. Nokes Lightfoot is so nimble, and values himself so much upon it, that I have thoughts of making him huntsman to a pack of beagles, and give his land to somebody that will stay upon it.

Now I am upon the topic of becoming what we enjoy, I forbid all persons who are not of the first quality, or who do not bear some important office that requires so much distinction, to go to Hyde Park with six horses, for I cannot but esteem it the highest insolence: therefore hereafter no man shall do it merely because he is able, without any other pretension. But what may serve all purposes quite as well, it shall be allowed all such who think riches the chief distinction, to appear in the Ring[118] with two horses only, and a rent-roll hanging out of each side of their coach. This is a thought of Mr. Greenhat's, who designs very soon to publish a sumptuary discourse upon the subject of equipage, wherein he will give us rules on that subject, and assign the proper duties and qualifications of masters and servants, as well as that of husbands and wives; with a treatise of economy without doors, or the complete art of appearing in the world. This will be very useful to all who are suddenly rich, or are ashamed of being poor.

I have notice of a new pack of dogs, of quite another sort than hitherto mentioned. I have not an exact account of their way of hunting, the following letter giving only a bare notice of them.

"Sir,

September 7.

"There are another pack of dogs to be disposed of, who kennel about Charing Cross, at the old Fat Dog's at the corner of Buckingham Court,[120] near Spring Garden:[121] two of them are said to be whelped in Alsatia,[122] now in ruins; but they, with the rest of the pack, are as pernicious as if the old kennel had never been broken down. The ancients distinguished this sort of curs by the name of HÆredipetes,[123] the most pernicious of all biters, for seizing young heirs, especially when their estates are entailed, whom they reduce by one good bite to such a condition, that they cannot ever after come to the use of their teeth, or get smelling of a crust. You are desired to dispose of these as soon as you can, that the breed may not increase; and your care in tying them up will be acknowledged by,

"Sir,

Humble Servant,

Philanthropos."[124]

St. James's Coffee-house, Sept. 9.

We have received letters from the Duke of Marlborough's camp, which bring us further particulars of the great and glorious victory obtained over the enemy on the 11th instant, N.S. The number of the wounded and prisoners is much greater than was expected from our first account. The day was doubtful till after twelve o'clock; but the enemy made little resistance after their first line on the left began to give way. An exact narration of the whole affair is expected next post. The French have had two days allowed them to bury their dead, and carry off their wounded men upon parole. Those regiments of Great Britain which suffered most, are ordered into garrison, and fresh troops commanded to march into the field. The States have also directed troops to march out of the towns, to relieve those who lost so many men in attacking the second entrenchment of the French in the plain between Sart and Jansart.