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also living some time before, and even at the instant when I writ of his death. I have in another place, and in a paper by itself, sufficiently convinced this man that he is dead, and if he has any shame, I do not doubt but that by this time he owns it to all his acquaintance; for though the legs and arms and whole body of that man may still appear, and perform their animal functions; yet since, as I have elsewhere observed, his art is gone, the man is gone. I am, as I said, concerned, that this little matter should make so much noise; but since I am engaged, I take myself obliged in honour to go on in my lucubrations, and by the help of these arts of which I am master, as well as my skill in astrological speculations, I shall, as I see occasion, proceed to confute other dead men, who pretend to be in being, although they are actually deceased. I therefore give all men fair warning to mend their manners; for I shall from time to time print bills of mortality and I beg the pardon of all such who shall be named therein, if they who are good for nothing shall find themselves in the number of the deceased.
N° 2. SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1709.
Quicquid agunt homines—
nostri est farrago libelli.
Whate'er men do, or say, or think, or dream,
Will's Coffee-House, April 13.
THERE has lain all this evening on the table the following poem. The subject of it being matter very useful for families, I thought it deserved to be
considered and made more public. The turn the poet gives it is very happy; but the foundation is from a real accident which happened amongst my acquaintance. A young Gentleman of great estate fell desperately in love with a great Beauty of very high quality, but as ill-natured as long flattery and an habitual self-will could make her. However, my young spark ventures upon her like a man of quality, without being acquainted with her, or having ever saluted her, until it was a crime to kiss any woman else. Beauty is a thing which palls with possession and the charms of this lady soon wanted the support of good-humour and complacency of manners: upon this my Spark flies to the bottle for relief from satiety. She disdains him, for being tired with that for which all men envied him; and he never came home, but it was-" Was there no sot that would stay longer? would any man living but you? did I leave all the world for this usage ?" to which he "Madam, split me, you are very impertinent!" In a word, this match was wedlock in its most terrible appearances. She, at last, weary of railing to no purpose, applies to a good uncle, who gives her a bottle, he pretended he had bought of Mr. Partridge, the conjuror. This, said he, I gave ten guineas for. The virtue of the enchanted liquor (said he that sold it) is such, that if the woman you marry proves a scold (which, it seems, my dear niece, is your misfortune; as it was your good mother's before you), let her hold three spoonfuls in her mouth for a full half hour after you come home-but I find I am not in humour for telling a tale: and nothing in nature is so ungraceful as story-tellin against the grain; therefore take it as the author has given it to you*.
*These verses are by Mr. William Harrison.
THE MEDICINE. A TALE-FOR THE LADIES.
Miss Molly, a fam'd Toast, was fair and young,
As, "You 're a fool!"-and, "You are mighty wise!"
Oft as the watchful bellman marched his round,
'Till morn sends staggering home a drunken beast,
Resolv'd to break my heart, as well as rest."
"Hey! hoop! d' ye hear my damn'd obstreperous spouse; What, can't you find one bed about the house?
Will that perpetual clack lie never still!
That rival to the softness of a mill!
Some couch and distant room must be my choice,
Old Wisewood smok'd the matter as it was:
A wondrous spring within my garden flows,
If in his sullen airs Sir John should come,
Three spoonfuls take, hold in your mouth-then mum.
One month this sympathetic medicine try'd,
But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close,
A water bottle 's brought for her relief;
The bonny knight reels home exceeding clear,
Entering, he cries, "Hey! where 's our thunder fled ! No hurricane! Betty, 's your lady dead?"
Madam, aside, an ample mouthful takes,
Curt'sies, looks kind, but not a word she speaks:
"Why how now, Molly, what's the crotchet now?"
'Twas us'd and gone-then midnight storms arose,
"Why, niece," says he, "I pr'ythee apprehend,
St. James's Coffee-house, April 13. Letters from Venice say, the disappointment of their expectation to see his Danish Majesty has very much disquieted the Court of Rome. Our last advices from Germany inform us, that the Minister of Hanover has urged the Council at Ratisbonne to exert themselves in behalf of the common cause, and taken the liberty to say, That the dignity, the virtue, the prudence of his Electorial Highness, his master, were called to the head of their affairs in vain, if they thought fit to leave him naked of the proper means, to make those excellencies useful for the honour and safety of the empire. They write from Berlin of the thirteenth, O. S. That the true design of General Fleming's visit to that Court was, to insinuate that it will be for the mutual interest of the King of Prussia and King Augustus to enter into a new alliance; but that the Ministers of Prussia are not inclined to his sentiments. We hear from Vienna, that his Imperial Majesty has expressed great satisfaction in their High Mightinesses having communicated to him the whole that has passed in the affair of a peace. Though there have been practices used by the agents of France, in all the Courts of Europe, to break the good understanding of the allies, they have had no other effect, but to make all the members concerned in the alliance more doubtful of their safety from the great offers of the enemy. The Emperor is roused by this alarm, and the frontiers of all the French dominions are in danger of being insulted the ensuing campaign. Advices from all parts confirm, that it is impossible for