<p>Friday, July 5.—This day I sent a servant on board a man-of-war that
was stationed here, with my compliments to the captain, to represent to
him the distress of the ladies, and to desire the favor of his long-boat
to conduct us to Dover, at about seven miles' distance; and at the same
time presumed to make use of a great lady's name, the wife of the first
lord commissioner of the admiralty, who would, I told him, be pleased with
any kindness shown by him towards us in our miserable condition. And this
I am convinced was true, from the humanity of the lady, though she was
entirely unknown to me.</p>
<p>The captain returned a verbal answer to a long letter acquainting me that
what I desired could not be complied with, it being a favor not in his
power to grant. This might be, and I suppose was, true; but it is as true
that, if he was able to write, and had pen, ink, and paper on board, he
might have sent a written answer, and that it was the part of a gentleman
so to have done; but this is a character seldom maintained on the watery
element, especially by those who exercise any power on it. Every commander
of a vessel here seems to think himself entirely free from all those rules
of decency and civility which direct and restrain the conduct of the
members of a society on shore; and each, claiming absolute dominion in his
little wooden world, rules by his own laws and his own discretion. I do
not, indeed, know so pregnant an instance of the dangerous consequences of
absolute power, and its aptness to intoxicate the mind, as that of those
petty tyrants, who become such in a moment, from very well-disposed and
social members of that communion in which they affect no superiority, but
live in an orderly state of legal subjection with their fellow-citizens.</p>
<p>Saturday, July 6.—This morning our commander, declaring he was sure
the wind would change, took the advantage of an ebbing tide, and weighed
his anchor. His assurance, however, had the same completion, and his
endeavors the same success, with his formal trial; and he was soon obliged
to return once more to his old quarters. Just before we let go our anchor,
a small sloop, rather than submit to yield us an inch of way, ran foul of
our ship, and carried off her bowsprit. This obstinate frolic would have
cost those aboard the sloop very dear, if our steersman had not been too
generous to exert his superiority, the certain consequence of which would
have been the immediate sinking of the other. This contention of the
inferior with a might capable of crushing it in an instant may seem to
argue no small share of folly or madness, as well as of impudence; but I
am convinced there is very little danger in it: contempt is a port to
which the pride of man submits to fly with reluctance, but those who are
within it are always in a place of the most assured security; for
whosoever throws away his sword prefers, indeed, a less honorable but much
safer means of avoiding danger than he who defends himself with it. And
here we shall offer another distinction, of the truth of which much
reading and experience have well convinced us, that as in the most
absolute governments there is a regular progression of slavery downwards,
from the top to the bottom, the mischief of which is seldom felt with any
great force and bitterness but by the next immediate degree; so in the
most dissolute and anarchical states there is as regular an ascent of what
is called rank or condition, which is always laying hold of the head of
him who is advanced but one step higher on the ladder, who might, if he
did not too much despise such efforts, kick his pursuer headlong to the
bottom. We will conclude this digression with one general and short
observation, which will, perhaps, set the whole matter in a clearer light
than the longest and most labored harangue. Whereas envy of all things
most exposes us to danger from others, so contempt of all things best
secures us from them. And thus, while the dung-cart and the sloop are
always meditating mischief against the coach and the ship, and throwing
themselves designedly in their way, the latter consider only their own
security, and are not ashamed to break the road and let the other pass by
them.</p>
<p>Monday, July 8.—Having passed our Sunday without anything
remarkable, unless the catching a great number of whitings in the
afternoon may be thought so, we now set sail on Monday at six o'clock,
with a little variation of wind; but this was so very little, and the
breeze itself so small, but the tide was our best and indeed almost our
only friend. This conducted us along the short remainder of the Kentish
shore. Here we passed that cliff of Dover which makes so tremendous a
figure in Shakespeare, and which whoever reads without being giddy, must,
according to Mr. Addison's observation, have either a very good head or a
very bad, one; but which, whoever contracts any such ideas from the sight
of, must have at least a poetic if not a Shakesperian genius. In truth,
mountains, rivers, heroes, and gods owe great part of their existence to
the poets; and Greece and Italy do so plentifully abound in the former,
because they furnish so glorious a number of the latter; who, while they
bestowed immortality on every little hillock and blind stream, left the
noblest rivers and mountains in the world to share the same obscurity with
the eastern and western poets, in which they are celebrated. This evening
we beat the sea of Sussex in sight of Dungeness, with much more pleasure
than progress; for the weather was almost a perfect calm, and the moon,
which was almost at the full, scarce suffered a single cloud to veil her
from our sight.</p>
<p>Tuesday, Wednesday, July 9, 10.—These two days we had much the same
fine weather, and made much the same way; but in the evening of the latter
day a pretty fresh gale sprung up at N.N.W., which brought us by the
morning in sight of the Isle of Wight.</p>
<p>Thursday, July 11.—This gale continued till towards noon; when the
east end of the island bore but little ahead of us. The captain swaggered
and declared he would keep the sea; but the wind got the better of him, so
that about three he gave up the victory, and making a sudden tack stood in
for the shore, passed by Spithead and Portsmouth, and came to an anchor at
a place called Ryde on the island.</p>
<p>A most tragical incident fell out this day at sea. While the ship was
under sail, but making as will appear no great way, a kitten, one of four
of the feline inhabitants of the cabin, fell from the window into the
water: an alarm was immediately given to the captain, who was then upon
deck, and received it with the utmost concern and many bitter oaths. He
immediately gave orders to the steersman in favor of the poor thing, as he
called it; the sails were instantly slackened, and all hands, as the
phrase is, employed to recover the poor animal. I was, I own, extremely
surprised at all this; less indeed at the captain's extreme tenderness
than at his conceiving any possibility of success; for if puss had had
nine thousand instead of nine lives, I concluded they had been all lost.
The boatswain, however, had more sanguine hopes, for, having stripped
himself of his jacket, breeches, and shirt, he leaped boldly into the
water, and to my great astonishment in a few minutes returned to the ship,
bearing the motionless animal in his mouth. Nor was this, I observed, a
matter of such great difficulty as it appeared to my ignorance, and
possibly may seem to that of my fresh-water reader. The kitten was now
exposed to air and sun on the deck, where its life, of which it retained
no symptoms, was despaired of by all.</p>
<p>The captain's humanity, if I may so call it, did not so totally destroy
his philosophy as to make him yield himself up to affliction on this
melancholy occasion. Having felt his loss like a man, he resolved to show
he could bear it like one; and, having declared he had rather have lost a
cask of rum or brandy, betook himself to threshing at backgammon with the
Portuguese friar, in which innocent amusement they had passed about
two-thirds of their time.</p>
<p>But as I have, perhaps, a little too wantonly endeavored to raise the
tender passions of my readers in this narrative, I should think myself
unpardonable if I concluded it without giving them the satisfaction of
hearing that the kitten at last recovered, to the great joy of the good
captain, but to the great disappointment of some of the sailors, who
asserted that the drowning a cat was the very surest way of raising a
favorable wind; a supposition of which, though we have heard several
plausible accounts, we will not presume to assign the true original
reason.</p>
<p>Friday, July 12.—This day our ladies went ashore at Ryde, and drank
their afternoon tea at an ale-house there with great satisfaction: here
they were regaled with fresh cream, to which they had been strangers since
they left the Downs.</p>
<p>Saturday, July 13.—The wind seeming likely to continue in the same
corner where it had been almost constantly for two months together, I was
persuaded by my wife to go ashore and stay at Ryde till we sailed. I
approved the motion much; for though I am a great lover of the sea, I now
fancied there was more pleasure in breathing the fresh air of the land;
but how to get thither was the question; for, being really that dead
luggage which I considered all passengers to be in the beginning of this
narrative, and incapable of any bodily motion without external impulse, it
was in vain to leave the ship, or to determine to do it, without the
assistance of others. In one instance, perhaps, the living, luggage is
more difficult to be moved or removed than an equal or much superior
weight of dead matter; which, if of the brittle kind, may indeed be liable
to be broken through negligence; but this, by proper care, may be almost
certainly prevented; whereas the fractures to which the living lumps are
exposed are sometimes by no caution avoidable, and often by no art to be
amended.</p>
<p>I was deliberating on the means of conveyance, not so much out of the ship
to the boat as out of a little tottering boat to the land; a matter which,
as I had already experienced in the Thames, was not extremely easy, when
to be performed by any other limbs than your own. Whilst I weighed all
that could suggest itself on this head, without strictly examining the
merit of the several schemes which were advanced by the captain and
sailors, and, indeed, giving no very deep attention even to my wife, who,
as well as her friend and my daughter, were exerting their tender concern
for my ease and safety, Fortune, for I am convinced she had a hand in it,
sent me a present of a buck; a present welcome enough of itself, but more
welcome on account of the vessel in which it came, being a large hoy,
which in some places would pass for a ship, and many people would go some
miles to see the sight.</p>
<p>I was pretty easily conveyed on board this hoy; but to get from hence to
the shore was not so easy a task; for, however strange it may appear, the
water itself did not extend so far; an instance which seems to explain
those lines of Ovid,</p>
<p>Omnia pontus erant, deerant quoque littora ponto,<br/></p>
<p>in a less tautological sense than hath generally been imputed to them.</p>
<p>In fact, between the sea and the shore there was, at low water, an
impassable gulf, if I may so call it, of deep mud, which could neither be
traversed by walking nor swimming; so that for near one half of the
twenty-four hours Ryde was inaccessible by friend or foe. But as the
magistrates of this place seemed more to desire the company of the former
than to fear that of the latter, they had begun to make a small causeway
to the low-water mark, so that foot passengers might land whenever they
pleased; but as this work was of a public kind, and would have cost a
large sum of money, at least ten pounds, and the magistrates, that is to
say, the churchwardens, the overseers, constable, and tithingman, and the
principal inhabitants, had every one of them some separate scheme of
private interest to advance at the expense of the public, they fell out
among themselves; and, after having thrown away one half of the requisite
sum, resolved at least to save the other half, and rather be contented to
sit down losers themselves than to enjoy any benefit which might bring in
a greater profit to another. Thus that unanimity which is so necessary in
all public affairs became wanting, and every man, from the fear of being a
bubble to another, was, in reality, a bubble to himself.</p>
<p>However, as there is scarce any difficulty to which the strength of men,
assisted with the cunning of art, is not equal, I was at last hoisted into
a small boat, and being rowed pretty near the shore, was taken up by two
sailors, who waded with me through the mud, and placed me in a chair on
the land, whence they afterwards conveyed me a quarter of a mile farther,
and brought me to a house which seemed to bid the fairest for hospitality
of any in Ryde.</p>
<p>We brought with us our provisions from the ship, so that we wanted nothing
but a fire to dress our dinner, and a room in which we might eat it. In
neither of these had we any reason to apprehend a disappointment, our
dinner consisting only of beans and bacon; and the worst apartment in his
majesty's dominions, either at home or abroad, being fully sufficient to
answer our present ideas of delicacy.</p>
<p>Unluckily, however, we were disappointed in both; for when we arrived
about four at our inn, exulting in the hopes of immediately seeing our
beans smoking on the table, we had the mortification of seeing them on the
table indeed, but without that circumstance which would have made the
sight agreeable, being in the same state in which we had dispatched them
from our ship. In excuse for this delay, though we had exceeded, almost
purposely, the time appointed, and our provision had arrived three hours
before, the mistress of the house acquainted us that it was not for want
of time to dress them that they were not ready, but for fear of their
being cold or over-done before we should come; which she assured us was
much worse than waiting a few minutes for our dinner; an observation so
very just, that it is impossible to find any objection in it; but, indeed,
it was not altogether so proper at this time, for we had given the most
absolute orders to have them ready at four, and had been ourselves, not
without much care and difficulty, most exactly punctual in keeping to the
very minute of our appointment. But tradesmen, inn-keepers, and servants,
never care to indulge us in matters contrary to our true interest, which
they always know better than ourselves; nor can any bribes corrupt them to
go out of their way while they are consulting our good in our own despite.</p>
<p>Our disappointment in the other particular, in defiance of our humility,
as it was more extraordinary, was more provoking. In short, Mrs. Francis
(for that was the name of the good woman of the house) no sooner received
the news of our intended arrival than she considered more the gentility
than the humanity of her guests, and applied herself not to that which
kindles but to that which extinguishes fire, and, forgetting to put on her
pot, fell to washing her house.</p>
<p>As the messenger who had brought my venison was impatient to be
dispatched, I ordered it to be brought and laid on the table in the room
where I was seated; and the table not being large enough, one side, and
that a very bloody one, was laid on the brick floor. I then ordered Mrs.
Francis to be called in, in order to give her instructions concerning it;
in particular, what I would have roasted and what baked; concluding that
she would be highly pleased with the prospect of so much money being spent
in her house as she might have now reason to expect, if the wind continued
only a few days longer to blow from the same points whence it had blown
for several weeks past.</p>
<p>I soon saw good cause, I must confess, to despise my own sagacity. Mrs.
Francis, having received her orders, without making any answer, snatched
the side from the floor, which remained stained with blood, and, bidding a
servant to take up that on the table, left the room with no pleasant
countenance, muttering to herself that, "had she known the litter which
was to have been made, she would not have taken such pains to wash her
house that morning. If this was gentility, much good may it do such
gentlefolks; for her part she had no notion of it." From these murmurs I
received two hints. The one, that it was not from a mistake of our
inclination that the good woman had starved us, but from wisely consulting
her own dignity, or rather perhaps her vanity, to which our hunger was
offered up as a sacrifice. The other, that I was now sitting in a damp
room, a circumstance, though it had hitherto escaped my notice from the
color of the bricks, which was by no means to be neglected in a
valetudinary state.</p>
<p>My wife, who, besides discharging excellently well her own and all the
tender offices becoming the female character; who, besides being a
faithful friend, an amiable companion, and a tender nurse, could likewise
supply the wants of a decrepit husband, and occasionally perform his part,
had, before this, discovered the immoderate attention to neatness in Mrs.
Francis, and provided against its ill consequences. She had found, though
not under the same roof, a very snug apartment belonging to Mr. Francis,
and which had escaped the mop by his wife's being satisfied it could not
possibly be visited by gentle-folks. This was a dry, warm, oaken-floored
barn, lined on both sides with wheaten straw, and opening at one end into
a green field and a beautiful prospect. Here, without hesitation, she
ordered the cloth to be laid, and came hastily to snatch me from worse
perils by water than the common dangers of the sea.</p>
<p>Mrs. Francis, who could not trust her own ears, or could not believe a
footman in so extraordinary a phenomenon, followed my wife, and asked her
if she had indeed ordered the cloth to be laid in the barn? She answered
in the affirmative; upon which Mrs. Francis declared she would not dispute
her pleasure, but it was the first time she believed that quality had ever
preferred a barn to a house. She showed at the same time the most pregnant
marks of contempt, and again lamented the labor she had undergone, through
her ignorance of the absurd taste of her guests.</p>
<p>At length we were seated in one of the most pleasant spots I believe in
the kingdom, and were regaled with our beans and bacon, in which there was
nothing deficient but the quantity. This defect was however so deplorable
that we had consumed our whole dish before we had visibly lessened our
hunger. We now waited with impatience the arrival of our second course,
which necessity, and not luxury, had dictated. This was a joint of mutton
which Mrs. Francis had been ordered to provide; but when, being tired with
expectation, we ordered our servants TO SEE FOR SOMETHING ELSE, we were
informed that there was nothing else; on which Mrs. Francis, being
summoned, declared there was no such thing as mutton to be had at Ryde.
When I expressed some astonishment at their having no butcher in a village
so situated, she answered they had a very good one, and one that killed
all sorts of meat in season, beef two or three times a year, and mutton
the whole year round; but that, it being then beans and peas time, he
killed no meat, by reason he was not sure of selling it. This she had not
thought worthy of communication, any more than that there lived a
fisherman at next door, who was then provided with plenty of soles, and
whitings, and lobsters, far superior to those which adorn a city feast.
This discovery being made by accident, we completed the best, the
pleasantest, and the merriest meal, with more appetite, more real solid
luxury, and more festivity, than was ever seen in an entertainment at
White's.</p>
<p>It may be wondered at, perhaps, that Mrs. Francis should be so negligent
of providing for her guests, as she may seem to be thus inattentive to her
own interest; but this was not the case; for, having clapped a poll-tax on
our heads at our arrival, and determined at what price to discharge our
bodies from her house, the less she suffered any other to share in the
levy the clearer it came into her own pocket; and that it was better to
get twelve pence in a shilling than ten pence, which latter would be the
case if she afforded us fish at any rate.</p>
<p>Thus we passed a most agreeable day owing to good appetites and good
humor; two hearty feeders which will devour with satisfaction whatever
food you place before them; whereas, without these, the elegance of St.
James's, the charde, the perigord-pie, or the ortolan, the venison, the
turtle, or the custard, may titillate the throat, but will never convey
happiness to the heart or cheerfulness to the countenance.</p>
<p>As the wind appeared still immovable, my wife proposed my lying on shore.
I presently agreed, though in defiance of an act of parliament, by which
persons wandering abroad and lodging in ale-houses are decreed to be
rogues and vagabonds; and this too after having been very singularly
officious in putting that law in execution. My wife, having reconnoitered
the house, reported that there was one room in which were two beds. It was
concluded, therefore, that she and Harriot should occupy one and myself
take possession of the other. She added likewise an ingenious
recommendation of this room to one who had so long been in a cabin, which
it exactly resembled, as it was sunk down with age on one side, and was in
the form of a ship with gunwales too.</p>
<p>For my own part, I make little doubt but this apartment was an ancient
temple, built with the materials of a wreck, and probably dedicated to
Neptune in honor of THE BLESSING sent by him to the inhabitants; such
blessings having in all ages been very common to them. The timber employed
in it confirms this opinion, being such as is seldom used by ally but
ship-builders. I do not find indeed any mention of this matter in Hearn;
but perhaps its antiquity was too modern to deserve his notice. Certain it
is that this island of Wight was not an early convert to Christianity;
nay, there is some reason to doubt whether it was ever entirely converted.
But I have only time to touch slightly on things of this kind, which,
luckily for us, we have a society whose peculiar profession it is to
discuss and develop.</p>
<p>Sunday, July 19.—This morning early I summoned Mrs. Francis, in
order to pay her the preceding day's account. As I could recollect only
two or three articles I thought there was no necessity of pen and ink. In
a single instance only we had exceeded what the law allows gratis to a
foot-soldier on his march, viz., vinegar, salt, etc., and dressing his
meat. I found, however, I was mistaken in my calculation; for when the
good woman attended with her bill it contained as follows:—</p>
<p>L. s. d.<br/>
<br/>
Bread and beer 0 2 4<br/>
<br/>
Wind 0 2 0<br/>
<br/>
Rum 0 2 0<br/>
<br/>
Dressing dinner 0 3 0<br/>
<br/>
Tea 0 1 6<br/>
<br/>
Firing 0 1 0<br/>
<br/>
Lodging 0 1 6<br/>
Servants' lodging 0 0 6<br/>
<br/>
————————-<br/>
<br/>
L 0 13 10<br/></p>
<p>Now that five people and two servants should live a day and night at a
public-house for so small a sum will appear incredible to any person in
London above the degree of a chimney-sweeper; but more astonishing will it
seem that these people should remain so long at such a house without
tasting any other delicacy than bread, small beer, a teacupful of milk
called cream, a glass of rum converted into punch by their own materials,
and one bottle of wind, of which we only tasted a single glass though
possibly, indeed, our servants drank the remainder of the bottle.</p>
<p>This wind is a liquor of English manufacture, and its flavor is thought
very delicious by the generality of the English, who drink it in great
quantities. Every seventh year is thought to produce as much as the other
six. It is then drank so plentifully that the whole nation are in a manner
intoxicated by it; and consequently very little business is carried on at
that season. It resembles in color the red wine which is imported from
Portugal, as it doth in its intoxicating quality; hence, and from this
agreement in the orthography, the one is often confounded with the other,
though both are seldom esteemed by the same person. It is to be had in
every parish of the kingdom, and a pretty large quantity is consumed in
the metropolis, where several taverns are set apart solely for the
vendition of this liquor, the masters never dealing in any other. The
disagreement in our computation produced some small remonstrance to Mrs.
Francis on my side; but this received an immediate answer: "She scorned to
overcharge gentlemen; her house had been always frequented by the very
best gentry of the island; and she had never had a bill found fault with
in her life, though she had lived upwards of forty years in the house, and
within that time the greatest gentry in Hampshire had been at it; and that
lawyer Willis never went to any other when he came to those parts. That
for her part she did not get her livelihood by travelers, who were gone
and away, and she never expected to see them more, but that her neighbors
might come again; wherefore, to be sure, they had the only right to
complain."</p>
<p>She was proceeding thus, and from her volubility of tongue seemed likely
to stretch the discourse to an immoderate length, when I suddenly cut all
short by paying the bill.</p>
<p>This morning our ladies went to church, more, I fear, from curiosity than
religion; they were attended by the captain in a most military attire,
with his cockade in his hat and his sword by his side. So unusual an
appearance in this little chapel drew the attention of all present, and
probably disconcerted the women, who were in dishabille, and wished
themselves dressed, for the sake of the curate, who was the greatest of
their beholders. While I was left alone I received a visit from Mr.
Francis himself, who was much more considerable as a farmer than as an
inn-holder. Indeed, he left the latter entirely to the care of his wife,
and he acted wisely, I believe, in so doing. As nothing more remarkable
passed on this day I will close it with the account of these two
characters, as far as a few days' residence could inform me of them. If
they should appear as new to the reader as they did to me, he will not be
displeased at finding them here. This amiable couple seemed to border hard
on their grand climacteric; nor indeed were they shy of owning enough to
fix their ages within a year or two of that time. They appeared to be
rather proud of having employed their time well than ashamed of having
lived so long; the only reason which I could ever assign why some fine
ladies, and fine gentlemen too, should desire to be thought younger than
they really are by the contemporaries of their grandchildren. Some,
indeed, who too hastily credit appearances, might doubt whether they had
made so good a use of their time as I would insinuate, since there was no
appearance of anything but poverty, want, and wretchedness, about their
house; nor could they produce anything to a customer in exchange for his
money but a few bottles of wind, and spirituous liquors, and some very bad
ale, to drink; with rusty bacon and worse cheese to eat. But then it
should be considered, on the other side, that whatever they received was
almost as entirely clear profit as the blessing of a wreck itself; such an
inn being the very reverse of a coffee-house; for here you can neither sit
for nothing nor have anything for your money.</p>
<p>Again, as many marks of want abounded everywhere, so were the marks of
antiquity visible. Scarce anything was to be seen which had not some scar
upon it, made by the hand of Time; not an utensil, it was manifest, had
been purchased within a dozen years last past; so that whatever money had
come into the house during that period at least must have remained in it,
unless it had been sent abroad for food, or other perishable commodities;
but these were supplied by a small portion of the fruits of the farm, in
which the farmer allowed he had a very good bargain. In fact, it is
inconceivable what sums may be collected by starving only, and how easy it
is for a man to die rich if he will but be contented to live miserable.</p>
<p>Nor is there in this kind of starving anything so terrible as some
apprehend. It neither wastes a man's flesh nor robs him of his
cheerfulness. The famous Cornaro's case well proves the contrary; and so
did farmer Francis, who was of a round stature, had a plump, round face,
with a kind of smile on it, and seemed to borrow an air of wretchedness
rather from his coat's age than from his own.</p>
<p>The truth is, there is a certain diet which emaciates men more than any
possible degree of abstinence; though I do not remember to have seen any
caution against it, either in Cheney, Arbuthnot, or in any other modern
writer or regimen.</p>
<p>Nay, the very name is not, I believe, in the learned Dr. James's
Dictionary; all which is the more extraordinary as it is a very common
food in this kingdom, and the college themselves were not long since very
liberally entertained with it by the present attorney and other eminent
lawyers in Lincoln's-inn-hall, and were all made horribly sick by it.</p>
<p>But though it should not be found among our English physical writers, we
may be assured of meeting with it among the Greeks; for nothing
considerable in nature escapes their notice, though many things
considerable in them, it is to be feared, have escaped the notice of their
readers. The Greeks, then, to all such as feed too voraciously on this
diet, give the name of HEAUTOFAGI, which our physicians will, I suppose,
translate MEN THAT EAT THEMSELVES.</p>
<p>As nothing is so destructive to the body as this kind of food, so nothing
is so plentiful and cheap; but it was perhaps the only cheap thing the
farmer disliked. Probably living much on fish might produce this disgust;
for Diodorus Siculus attributes the same aversion in a people of Ethiopia
to the same cause; he calls them the fish-eaters, and asserts that they
cannot be brought to eat a single meal with the Heautofagi by any
persuasion, threat, or violence whatever, not even though they should kill
their children before their faces.</p>
<p>What hath puzzled our physicians, and prevented them from setting this
matter in the clearest light, is possibly one simple mistake, arising from
a very excusable ignorance; that the passions of men are capable of
swallowing food as well as their appetites; that the former, in feeding,
resemble the state of those animals who chew the cud; and therefore, such
men, in some sense, may be said to prey on themselves, and as it were to
devour their own entrails. And hence ensues a meager aspect and thin habit
of body, as surely as from what is called a consumption. Our farmer was
one of these. He had no more passion than an Ichthuofagus or Ethiopian
fisher. He wished not for anything, thought not of anything; indeed, he
scarce did anything or said anything. Here I cannot be understood
strictly; for then I must describe a nonentity, whereas I would rob him of
nothing but that free agency which is the cause of all the corruption and
of all the misery of human nature. No man, indeed, ever did more than the
farmer, for he was an absolute slave to labor all the week; but in truth,
as my sagacious reader must have at first apprehended, when I said he
resigned the care of the house to his wife, I meant more than I then
expressed, even the house and all that belonged to it; for he was really a
farmer only under the direction of his wife. In a word, so composed, so
serene, so placid a countenance, I never saw; and he satisfied himself by
answering to every question he was asked, "I don't know anything about it,
sir; I leaves all that to my wife."</p>
<p>Now, as a couple of this kind would, like two vessels of oil, have made no
composition in life, and for want of all savor must have palled every
taste; nature or fortune, or both of them, took care to provide a proper
quantity of acid in the materials that formed the wife, and to render her
a perfect helpmate for so tranquil a husband. She abounded in whatsoever
he was defective; that is to say, in almost everything. She was indeed as
vinegar to oil, or a brisk wind to a standing-pool, and preserved all from
stagnation and corruption.</p>
<p>Quin the player, on taking a nice and severe survey of a fellow-comedian,
burst forth into this exclamation:—"If that fellow be not a rogue,
God Almighty doth not write a legible hand."</p>
<p>Whether he guessed right or no is not worth my while to examine; certain
it is that the latter, having wrought his features into a proper harmony
to become the characters of Iago, Shylock, and others of the same cast,
gave us a semblance of truth to the observation that was sufficient to
confirm the wit of it. Indeed, we may remark, in favor of the
physiognomist, though the law has made him a rogue and vagabond, that
Nature is seldom curious in her works within, without employing some
little pains on the outside; and this more particularly in mischievous
characters, in forming which, as Mr. Derham observes, in venomous insects,
as the sting or saw of a wasp, she is sometimes wonderfully industrious.
Now, when she hath thus completely armed our hero to carry on a war with
man, she never fails of furnishing that innocent lambkin with some means
of knowing his enemy, and foreseeing his designs. Thus she hath been
observed to act in the case of a rattlesnake, which never meditates a
human prey without giving warning of his approach. This observation will,
I am convinced, hold most true, if applied to the most venomous
individuals of human insects. A tyrant, a trickster, and a bully,
generally wear the marks of their several dispositions in their
countenances; so do the vixen, the shrew, the scold, and all other females
of the like kind. But, perhaps, nature hath never afforded a stronger
example of all this than in the case of Mrs. Francis. She was a short,
squat woman; her head was closely joined to her shoulders, where it was
fixed somewhat awry; every feature of her countenance was sharp and
pointed; her face was furrowed with the smallpox; and her complexion,
which seemed to be able to turn milk to curds, not a little resembled in
color such milk as had already undergone that operation. She appeared,
indeed, to have many symptoms of a deep jaundice in her look; but the
strength and firmness of her voice overbalanced them all; the tone of this
was a sharp treble at a distance, for I seldom heard it on the same floor,
but was usually waked with it in the morning, and entertained with it
almost continually through the whole day.</p>
<p>Though vocal be usually put in opposition to instrumental music, I
question whether this might not be thought to partake of the nature of
both; for she played on two instruments, which she seemed to keep for no
other use from morning till night; these were two maids, or rather
scolding-stocks, who, I suppose, by some means or other, earned their
board, and she gave them their lodging gratis, or for no other service
than to keep her lungs in constant exercise.</p>
<p>She differed, as I have said, in every particular from her husband; but
very remarkably in this, that, as it was impossible to displease him, so
it was as impossible to please her; and as no art could remove a smile
from his countenance, so could no art carry it into hers. If her bills
were remonstrated against she was offended with the tacit censure of her
fair-dealing; if they were not, she seemed to regard it as a tacit sarcasm
on her folly, which might have set down larger prices with the same
success. On this lather hint she did indeed improve, for she daily raised
some of her articles. A pennyworth of fire was to-day rated at a shilling,
to-morrow at eighteen-pence; and if she dressed us two dishes for two
shillings on the Saturday, we paid half-a-crown for the cookery of one on
the Sunday; and, whenever she was paid, she never left the room without
lamenting the small amount of her bill, saying, "she knew not how it was
that others got their money by gentle-folks, but for her part she had not
the art of it." When she was asked why she complained, when she was paid
all she demanded, she answered, "she could not deny that, nor did she know
she had omitted anything; but that it was but a poor bill for gentle-folks
to pay." I accounted for all this by her having heard, that it is a maxim
with the principal inn-holders on the continent, to levy considerable sums
on their guests, who travel with many horses and servants, though such
guests should eat little or nothing in their houses; the method being, I
believe, in such cases, to lay a capitation on the horses, and not on
their masters. But she did not consider that in most of these inns a very
great degree of hunger, without any degree of delicacy, may be satisfied;
and that in all such inns there is some appearance, at least, of
provision, as well as of a man-cook to dress it, one of the hostlers being
always furnished with a cook's cap, waistcoat, and apron, ready to attend
gentlemen and ladies on their summons; that the case therefore of such
inns differed from hers, where there was nothing to eat or to drink, and
in reality no house to inhabit, no chair to sit upon, nor any bed to lie
in; that one third or fourth part therefore of the levy imposed at inns
was, in truth, a higher tax than the whole was when laid on in the other,
where, in order to raise a small sum, a man is obliged to submit to pay as
many various ways for the same thing as he doth to the government for the
light which enters through his own window into his own house, from his own
estate; such are the articles of bread and beer, firing, eating and
dressing dinner.</p>
<p>The foregoing is a very imperfect sketch of this extraordinary couple; for
everything is here lowered instead of being heightened. Those who would
see them set forth in more lively colors, and with the proper ornaments,
may read the descriptions of the Furies in some of the classical poets, or
of the Stoic philosophers in the works of Lucian.</p>
<p>Monday, July 20.—This day nothing remarkable passed; Mrs. Francis
levied a tax of fourteen shillings for the Sunday. We regaled ourselves at
dinner with venison and good claret of our own; and in the afternoon, the
women, attended by the captain, walked to see a delightful scene two miles
distant, with the beauties of which they declared themselves most highly
charmed at their return, as well as with the goodness of the lady of the
mansion, who had slipped out of the way that my wife and their company
might refresh themselves with the flowers and fruits with which her garden
abounded.</p>
<p>Tuesday, July 21.—This day, having paid our taxes of yesterday, we
were permitted to regale ourselves with more venison. Some of this we
would willingly have exchanged for mutton; but no such flesh was to be had
nearer than Portsmouth, from whence it would have cost more to convey a
joint to us than the freight of a Portugal ham from Lisbon to London
amounts to; for though the water-carriage be somewhat cheaper here than at
Deal, yet can you find no waterman who will go on board his boat, unless
by two or three hours' rowing he can get drunk for the residue of the
week.</p>
<p>And here I have an opportunity, which possibly may not offer again, of
publishing some observations on that political economy of this nation,
which, as it concerns only the regulation of the mob, is below the notice
of our great men; though on the due regulation of this order depend many
emoluments, which the great men themselves, or at least many who tread
close on their heels, may enjoy, as well as some dangers which may some
time or other arise from introducing a pure state of anarchy among them. I
will represent the case, as it appears to me, very fairly and impartially
between the mob and their betters. The whole mischief which infects this
part of our economy arises from the vague and uncertain use of a word
called liberty, of which, as scarce any two men with whom I have ever
conversed seem to have one and the same idea, I am inclined to doubt
whether there be any simple universal notion represented by this word, or
whether it conveys any clearer or more determinate idea than some of those
old Punic compositions of syllables preserved in one of the comedies of
Plautus, but at present, as I conceive, not supposed to be understood by
any one.</p>
<p>By liberty, however, I apprehend, is commonly understood the power of
doing what we please; not absolutely, for then it would be inconsistent
with law, by whose control the liberty of the freest people, except only
the Hottentots and wild Indians, must always be restrained.</p>
<p>But, indeed, however largely we extend, or however moderately we confine,
the sense of the word, no politician will, I presume, contend that it is
to pervade in an equal degree, and be, with the same extent, enjoyed by,
every member of society; no such polity having been ever found, unless
among those vile people just before commemorated. Among the Greeks and
Romans the servile and free conditions were opposed to each other; and no
man who had the misfortune to be enrolled under the former could lay any
claim to liberty till the right was conveyed to him by that master whose
slave he was, either by the means of conquest, of purchase, or of birth.</p>
<p>This was the state of all the free nations in the world; and this, till
very lately, was understood to be the case of our own.</p>
<p>I will not indeed say this is the case at present, the lowest class of our
people having shaken off all the shackles of their superiors, and become
not only as free, but even freer, than most of their superiors. I believe
it cannot be doubted, though perhaps we have no recent instance of it,
that the personal attendance of every man who hath three hundred pounds
per annum, in parliament, is indispensably his duty; and that, if the
citizens and burgesses of any city or borough shall choose such a one,
however reluctant he appear, he may be obliged to attend, and be forcibly
brought to his duty by the sergeant-at-arms.</p>
<p>Again, there are numbers of subordinate offices, some of which are of
burden, and others of expense, in the civil government—all of which
persons who are qualified are liable to have imposed on them, may be
obliged to undertake and properly execute, notwithstanding any bodily
labor, or even danger, to which they may subject themselves, under the
penalty of fines and imprisonment; nay, and what may appear somewhat hard,
may be compelled to satisfy the losses which are eventually incident, to
that of sheriff in particular, out of their own private fortunes; and
though this should prove the ruin of a family, yet the public, to whom the
price is due, incurs no debt or obligation to preserve its officer
harmless, let his innocence appear ever so clearly. I purposely omit the
mention of those military or military duties which our old constitution
laid upon its greatest members. These might, indeed, supply their posts
with some other able-bodied men; but if no such could have been found, the
obligation nevertheless remained, and they were compellable to serve in
their own proper persons. The only one, therefore, who is possessed of
absolute liberty is the lowest member of the society, who, if he prefers
hunger, or the wild product of the fields, hedges, lanes, and rivers, with
the indulgence of ease and laziness, to a food a little more delicate, but
purchased at the expense of labor, may lay himself under a shade; nor can
be forced to take the other alternative from that which he hath, I will
not affirm whether wisely or foolishly, chosen.</p>
<p>Here I may, perhaps, be reminded of the last Vagrant Act, where all such
persons are compellable to work for the usual and accustomed wages allowed
in the place; but this is a clause little known to the justices of the
peace, and least likely to be executed by those who do know it, as they
know likewise that it is formed on the ancient power of the justices to
fix and settle these wages every year, making proper allowances for the
scarcity and plenty of the times, the cheapness and dearness of the place;
and that THE USUAL AND ACCUSTOMED WAGES are words without any force or
meaning, when there are no such; but every man spunges and raps whatever
he can get; and will haggle as long and struggle as hard to cheat his
employer of twopence in a day's labor as an honest tradesman will to cheat
his customers of the same sum in a yard of cloth or silk.</p>
<p>It is a great pity then that this power, or rather this practice, was not
revived; but, this having been so long omitted that it is become obsolete,
will be best done by a new law, in which this power, as well as the
consequent power of forcing the poor to labor at a moderate and reasonable
rate, should be well considered and their execution facilitated; for
gentlemen who give their time and labor gratis, and even voluntarily, to
the public, have a right to expect that all their business be made as easy
as possible; and to enact laws without doing this is to fill our
statute-books, much too full already, still fuller with dead letter, of no
use but to the printer of the acts of parliament. That the evil which I
have here pointed at is of itself worth redressing, is, I apprehend, no
subject of dispute; for why should any persons in distress be deprived of
the assistance of their fellow-subjects, when they are willing amply to
reward them for their labor? or, why should the lowest of the people be
permitted to exact ten times the value of their work? For those exactions
increase with the degrees of necessity in their object, insomuch that on
the former side many are horribly imposed upon, and that often in no
trifling matters. I was very well assured that at Deal no less than ten
guineas was required, and paid by the supercargo of an Indiaman, for
carrying him on board two miles from the shore when she was just ready to
sail; so that his necessity, as his pillager well understood, was
absolute. Again, many others, whose indignation will not submit to such
plunder, are forced to refuse the assistance, though they are often great
sufferers by so doing. On the latter side, the lowest of the people are
encouraged in laziness and idleness; while they live by a twentieth part
of the labor that ought to maintain them, which is diametrically opposite
to the interest of the public; for that requires a great deal to be done,
not to be paid, for a little. And moreover, they are confirmed in habits
of exaction, and are taught to consider the distresses of their superiors
as their own fair emolument. But enough of this matter, of which I at
first intended only to convey a hint to those who are alone capable of
applying the remedy, though they are the last to whom the notice of those
evils would occur, without some such monitor as myself, who am forced to
travel about the world in the form of a passenger. I cannot but say I
heartily wish our governors would attentively consider this method of
fixing the price of labor, and by that means of compelling the poor to
work, since the due execution of such powers will, I apprehend, be found
the true and only means of making them useful, and of advancing trade from
its present visibly declining state to the height to which Sir William
Petty, in his Political Arithmetic, thinks it capable of being carried.</p>
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