_Sous ces tisons, sans t.i.tres, sans paraphes, Incognito gisent vingt Epitaphes, Qu'ont arrache de leurs maigres cerveaux, Incognito vingt chetifs Poetereaux; Difaut vouloir par detestable rime Loiier encor certain Esprit sublime, Dont rien ne dis, savon qu'a ses talens, Vivant trouva force contradisans.

Chantres grossiers du bourbeux Marecage, Pour Dieu, cessez votre maudit ramage!

Si n.o.blement chanter n'est votre fort, Dires tont court, Le_ grand Saurin _est mort._

_It may be thus Engslish'd_:

_i. e._

Under these Firebrands lie _incognito_, no less than a Score of Epitaphs, without t.i.tle or Subscription, rack'd _incognito_ from the sterile Brains of as many paltry Poetasters, pretending by detestable Doggrel to extol a certain sublime Genius, of which I say nothing, but that whilst he was alive, he met with a great many who contradicted his Talents. But, for G.o.d's sake, ye stupid Bards of the muddy Fens, leave off your cursed croaking! And as you have not the Gift of n.o.ble Poetry, say nothing more, than that the.

GREAT SAURIN is dead.

During my Stay at the _Hague_, I heard much Talk of one _Armand_ a _Frenchman_, whose extraordinary Adventures were at that Time the Discourse of all Companies. He did not want Understanding, but he was one of the oddest and most extravagant Mortals breathing. His Pa.s.sions, which sometimes rose to a Degree of Fury, were the Cause of all his Misfortunes. I have been promised the History of him, and if my Friend keep his Word with me, I will not fail to send it to you[118].

_The History of_ John Barre, _called_ ARMAND.

_JOHN BARRE_, a Native of the Province of _Burgundy_, appeared at _Amsterdam_ in 1720, by the Name of _Armand_. He was a handsome Man, in the Prime of his Age, and seemed to have had a good Education. He said he was come from _France_, because he had killed a Man in a Duel. Any other Man besides himself, in a Case of the like Nature, would have been at a terrible _Nonplus_ to find himself pursued by Justice, and forced to fly from his native Country, and his Friends, without Money, into a strange Land, of which he understood not the Language, and thrown into a great City, in the midst of a numerous People, where a poor Man is so hard put to it to make an Acquaintance. But _Armand_ was never at a Loss for Stratagems to relieve him. Being a bold intriguing Man, an excellent Tongue-pad, and a Poet into the Bargain, or at least very ready of making Verses, he quickly found Means to get Acquaintance. He might even have pa.s.sed for a Man of Quality, if Necessity had not forced him to make use of a Talent which was a plain Discovery of the contrary; for he shewed himself a complete Writing-Master, and made excellent Scholars in a very little Time.

With this Resource, _Armand_ might have lived very happy; but the Violence of his Temper, and his satirical Humour, made him quickly lose his Patrons and best Friends. Besides these Defects, of which he was beyond all measure guilty, he was suspicious, haughty, self-will'd beyond Comparison, fantastical in every Part of his Behaviour, and an extravagant Admirer of his own Productions; so that a Person was sure of being thought the worst Enemy he had, if he did not applaud every thing he did; and 'twas enough to put him into a Fury, if one did not think as well of his Verses, as he did himself. Two or three Pa.s.sages only are sufficient to demonstrate this to be true.

He lodged at the House of a Burgher, who had so great an Opinion of him, that he thought himself happy in having such Opportunities of Familiarity with a Man who had won his Heart by his Wit and his Behaviour. As they often eat and drank together, _Armand_ invited his Landlord one Day with all his Family and some Relations to a Supper, when, according to his usual Way, he had provided a magnificent Repast. When they were seated at Table, a Lady of the Company thought fit to call for a particular Sort of Bread, which she had been used to eat; whereupon the Landlord immediately sent out of the Room for some; which _Armand_ perceiving, and mistrusting that they thought he had not provided Bread enough, he rose nastily from Table, and went out, but came back again in a Moment, with a Basket full of Bread, which he turned topsy-turvy upon the Table: And as if this Piece of Rudeness was not enough, he ran out of the House like a Madman, and spent the rest of the Evening in walking up and down, at a great Rate, before his Door.

Having heard, that M. _P----_, Agent for the Naval Affairs of _France_ at _Rotterdam_, made Verses in a very pretty Manner; he went by the Inspiration of _Apollo_, to pay him a Visit; and after having made him a Compliment on his Quality of Poet, he presented him some Verses of his own making, of which he earnestly desired that he would give him his Opinion.

M. _P----_, who was not so fond of Flattery as _Armand_, made him Answer, That he had been misinformed; that he was far from being a good Judge of Poetry, and therefore hoped he would not look upon him in that Light.

_Armand_ took his Answer for a downright Affront, and retired bluntly from him, not without abusing him. Nor did Mr. _C----r_, to whom he paid a Visit for the same Purpose, fare a whit better; and to be revenged of both those Gentlemen, he wrote an Epigram against them, which he pasted up one _Sunday_ at the Door of the _French_ Church.

_Armand_ being disgusted with the Reception he met with from the Wits at _Rotterdam_, had recourse to the Merchants. He went to see M. _C----t_, a Person of known Probity, either to present his Verses to him, or to offer him his Service, in Quality of a Writing-Master. As M. _C----t_ was a little hard of Hearing, he thought it proper to apprize our Poet of it in the first Place; but he, imagining that 'twas only a Pretence to dismiss him, turned his Back upon him, and went away very much incensed at the Affront which he thought he had received. He had even the Rashness to fix up a very offensive Paper some Days after, at the Exchange, to tarnish the honest Man's Reputation; and the same being immediately torn down by M.

_C----t_'s Friends, _Armand_, as soon as he heard of it, put up another, even more insulting than the former. M. _C----t_, to prevent his being again exposed to such Insults, carried his Complaints to the chief Magistrate of _Rotterdam_, who summoned the Author of the Advertis.e.m.e.nt to appear before him. _Armand_ obeyed the Writ, and pleaded in his own Defence, that being a Foreigner, he did not know he had done any thing that was prohibited by the Laws of the Country; but that having been lately informed of the contrary, he was willing to make the Person injured any Amends that should be thought proper, and promised at the same Time to depart the City forthwith. The Magistrate put up with his Reasons, and only insisted, on the Performance of his Promise. Therefore he left the City, and set out to his former Quarters at _Amsterdam_.

The ill Success of his Verses was so far from abating his versifying Humour, that his Pa.s.sion for Poetry was only become the stronger. At his Return to _Amsterdam_, he began to write Satires against his Enemies at _Rotterdam_, whom he accused of having ruined all his Projects. Then he undertook to turn the tender Amours of _Abelard_ and _Eloisa_ into Burlesque Verse. This Piece, full of Obscenities, and of satirical Lashes of his Enemies, quickly ran thro' all the Coffee-houses; and when he thought he had put the finishing Stroke to it, he met with a Bookseller, who was willing to undertake the Printing of it, tho' it had been despised by all good Judges.

While this Work was printing, _Armand_ contracted a Friendship with the Count _de Bucquoy_, so well known for his Adventures and Extravagances.

This Count too pretended to write Verses, and was as great a Rattle as _Armand_. Their Resemblance of each other so much in Temper, was judged at first to be such a Cement as would have consolidated their Friendship for a long Time: But a too great Freedom taken by the Count embroiled them implacably, and gave Rise to a Scene which had like to have been tragical.

The Count, who was not yet perfectly acquainted with his Friend's Blind-side, took it into his Head one Day, as he was in _Armand_'s Chamber, to make a Criticism upon his Poetry, which was a little too severe. _Armand_, to whom n.o.body had ever presumed before to talk at that Rate, was in a furious Pa.s.sion, and called his Censor an impudent Fool, and a Fortune-Hunter. At last the two Poets fell to Blows; but _Armand_ being the strongest Man, he forced the Count out of his Chamber, kick'd him down Stairs, and so drove him into the Street.

We proceed now to that fatal Accident of _Armand_'s Life, which was the Cause of all his Misfortunes, and brought him at last to the Scaffold.

_Armand_ had contracted a Friendship of a long standing, with a Person of _Bayonne_, one _B----_, a young Fellow, who tho' dest.i.tute of a Fortune, had been so lucky as to marry a very rich Heiress. At the Time when the Public believed there was the strictest Union subsisting betwixt them, they were strangely surprized to hear that _B----_ had informed against his Friend, for a horrible Outrage; and that upon this Accusation _Armand_ was arrested, and committed to Prison. _B----_ pretended that being one Day in _Armand_'s Chamber, _Armand_ shut the Door upon him, and forced him, with a Dagger at his Throat, to sign a Bond for a thousand Ducats.

_Armand_'s general Character was enough to condemn him; whereas _B----_, on the contrary, pa.s.sed for a young Man of an unblameable Behaviour; but, to his Misfortune, the Affair was so circ.u.mstanced, that it could not be duly prov'd; for, instead of calling out for Help, at least, as he went out of the Room, he retired without saying one Word, and did not so much as go and make his Complaint till two Days after: But for want of direct Evidence against the Prisoner, he caused Inquiry to be made into his Life and Conversation, and discovered, that _Armand_ was but a borrowed Name, and that his true one was _John Barre_; that he had a Wife and four Children; that he had been Receiver of the Salt-Office at _Vezelay_ in _Burgundy_; in short, that he had kill'd his Brother-in-Law in the Country, with a Fowling-Piece; and that having fled for it, he was outlaw'd and condemn'd to be hang'd.

When _Armand_ appear'd before the Judges, he fairly own'd what his Accusers had alledg'd against him, with regard to his Name, the Place of his Residence, and the Cause of his Flight; but he deny'd his having murder'd his Brother-in-Law, tho' he confessed that he had kill'd him in his own Defence. As what he had done in _France_, was quite out of the Question; the Judges were only for adhering to the Point in hand. _Armand_ said, that _B----_ had of his own Accord given him a Bond for a thousand Ducats, in Acknowledgment for the Service he had done him, in lending him some Money, and promoting his Marriage. He pleaded his own Cause very courageously, without the least Trembling or Self-Contradiction. _B----_, on the contrary, seemed to falter in every thing that he said, which made it suspected by some, that he had only charg'd _Armand_, in order to have a Pretext for not paying the Sum that he had promised him. Yet others, with more Probability, ascribed _B----_'s Faint-heartedness upon this Occasion to his natural Timorousness, and to the Confusion into which an Accusation of this Nature, laid without any Proofs to support it, must needs cast him.

_Armand_ being very urgent for an Issue of the Affair, the Judges, who found nothing that could support _B----_'s Pretensions, pa.s.sed a Sentence, Whereby the latter was to pay the thousand Ducats, and the Defendant was to be set at Liberty, after giving Security for the said Sum, in case of an Appeal to the Court of _Holland_, saving to himself the Liberty of prosecuting his Adversary for Costs, Damages, Interest, and Reparation of Honour. _B----_ did not fail to appeal from that Sentence to the Court, as did like wise _Armand_, who having given the Security required, and received the thousand Ducats, shews himself thro' the whole Town, with a long Beard, which he suffered to grow in Prison, and which he swore should not be taken off till he had carried his Cause at the Court.

In order to hasten the Decision of the Affair, he repaired to the _Hague_, where the Court at length pa.s.sed a Sentence, which confirmed that of _Amsterdam_; and then he sued for Repair of Honour, and for Damages and Interests. _B----_ finding himself by this Means cast in all his Demands, and fearing the Consequences of the Law-Suit, thought fit to set his Affairs in Order, and withdrew to _France_. The Court immediately clapp'd a Seal upon his Effects, summon'd him three times to appear, and 'tis probable that he would have been condemned upon an Outlawry, if _Armand_'s Misbehaviour had not put a sudden Stop to the Courte of Justice. The Occasion of this Incident was as follows:

_Armand_ was so impatient for the Issue of his Process, that he went every Day to teaze his Judges, who sometimes were not at Leisure to grant him Audience. Upon a certain Day, as he came to the Door of the Attorney-General, one of the Domestics told him, his Master was not at home; and the Man was going to shut the Door against him, when _Armand_ said, _I know the contrary, and must needs speak with him_. Upon this they fell to abusing one another, when _Armand_, losing all Patience, struck the Domestic several Blows, and put the whole House in an Alarm, for which he was carried to Prison; from whence however he might have had a speedy Deliverance, if he would but have confessed his Fault, and made the Attorney-General proper Satisfaction: But instead of doing this, he behaved to Mr. Attorney in a strange Manner, and threatened to be revenged of him. But he paid dear for his Insolence, and was sentenced to lie in Prison twelve Years. He remained there till 1734, when the Court thought fit to remove him to another Town, till the Expiration of the Term mentioned in the Sentence. _Armand_ being acquainted with this Resolution, imagined, no doubt, that he was now to be treated with more Severity than ever, and perhaps that he should be privately dispatched; and from that Time he had no Command of himself. He formed a Design to murder the Archers when they came to meddle with him, or at least to prevent their seizing him; and for this Purpose he had taken one of the Bed-posts, which he not only armed with Nails, but fastened the Blade of a Penknife at one End of it. Being thus prepared for his Defence, on the Day appointed for his Removal; two Archers came to take him, of whom he ripp'd up the Guts of one, and broke two Ribs of the other. After this, none of the Archers durst venture to come near him, till the following Stratagem was thought of, by which they effectually quelled him. Two Archers were ordered to make each a Hole in the Wall of the Prison, and at the very Instant when _Armand_ was peeping through one of them, to examine the Cause of it, a Pistol was discharg'd in his Face, loaded with Sand, which put his Eyes, Tongue and Face into such an Agony, that he was not able to defend himself, but surrendered, and begged Quarter. At the same Time he was seized, and clapped in Irons. When he was under Examination, he confessed, that his Design was to murder any one that offered to remove him; and that he would do it again, if it were in his Power; which Circ.u.mstance was such an Aggravation of his Crime, that he was condemned to lose his Head.

The View of approaching Death was so far from being shocking to him, that he seemed perfectly unconcerned. But what was very observable in this unaccountable Man, was that the dreadful Prospect of the infamous Death he had so justly deserved, was so far from engrossing his Thoughts, that it did not in the least abate the Fondness he had always discovered for his Verses; so that at the very Time when a Minister was preparing him for Eternity, he interrupted him short, by telling him, _Sir, Here are some Verses of my own composing; I desire you would let me read them to you. I always loved to divert myself with Works of this Sort_. An Attorney, who was present at the same Time, performing the Office of a Comforter, seemed to be shock'd at the Reading of a Composition so unsuitable to one in such Circ.u.mstances; but _Armand_, looking on him with a very angry Countenance, told him in plain Terms, That he was an a.s.s; and that he wondered how a Man of his Profession, an Attorney, at constant Variance with Heaven, and for ever and ever accursed, should take it into his Head to turn Comforter, and pretend to make Peace between G.o.d and Man.

The Day of Execution being[119] come, he was carried before the Judges to hear Sentence of Death pa.s.sed upon him: But they had scarce begun to p.r.o.nounce it, when he grew strangely outrageous, and said, 'twas unjust to read his Sentence to him in a Language which he did not understand. It was to no Purpose that they told him, it should be explained to him in _French_; for he still rav'd on in the same Strain; so that they were obliged to stop his Mouth with a Handkerchief, which they held tight behind, by both Ends. However, upon his making a Sign that it strain'd him too much, they slacken'd it, and then he promised, that if they would take it quite off, he would keep a profound Silence. He was attended to the Place of Execution by a Minister, and saluted such of his Acquaintance as he saw mixed in the Crowd, with a Smile. When he was on the Scaffold, and fixed his Eyes on the Gallows, he turned pale, saying, that he had been promised different Treatment, and that he did not think he should be turned out of the World in the Manner for which he saw that Preparation.

They encouraged him, by telling him, that he should only have his Head cut off, if he did not use Violence; but that if he did, he should be hanged, and hoisted up to the Gallows by a Pully, there for that Purpose. He made Answer, that he did not care to swing out of the World by a Halter. He then asked the Executioner, if he was perfect in his Business; to which he answered in the Affirmative, adding, That he had by his Dexterity made sixteen Heads leap already, with very good Success, and that he hoped his would be the seventeenth to do him Honour. Then _Armand_ demanded where the Sword was, and the Executioner told him, that it should be ready at the Time. At last the fatal Moment being come, he fell on his Knees, and as soon as his Eyes were blinded, he had his Head struck off at one Blow.

I have nothing particular to tell you of the Palace at _Honslaerdyck_, and of the[120] _House in the Wood_, which belong to the King of _Prussia_, because they are neither of 'em what they were formerly. They are running so to Decay, that shortly they will not deserve the Mention. As I pa.s.sed to _Honslaerdyck_, I went thro' the Village of _Loosduinen_, where I saw in a Church, the Basin, in which, 'tis said, were baptized the three hundred and sixty-five Children, of which a Countess of _Holland_ was delivered at one[121] Birth, in Pursuance of the Wish, or rather Curse of a poor Woman, who having a Charge of Children, and coming to beg Alms of her, was not only denied, but rebuked for having so many Children; whereupon she wished, that the Countess, who was then pregnant, might be brought to Bed of as many Children as there were Days in the Year; which happened accordingly. This remarkable Event is set forth in a Picture carefully preserved in the Church.

The Palace of[122] _Ryswic_, where the Peace was signed in 1697, being in no better Condition than that of _Honslaerdyck_, I did not think fit to strike out of the fine Road to DELFT, to go and see it. This Town, which is a League from the _Hague_, has nothing remarkable to be view'd, besides the Tomb of _William_ I. Prince of _Orange_, who was a.s.sa.s.sinated at _Delft_, in 1584, by _Balthasar Gerard_, of the _Franche Comte_. The Republic which caused this _Mausoleum_ to be erected, spar'd no Cost to leave Posterity a Monument worthy of its Founders, and of their Grat.i.tude for the signal Services which had been done them by that Hero. The a.r.s.enal for the Land Service of this State, is at _Delft_, and there are few in _Europe_ that are better furnished, or kept more in Order. This Town drives a great Trade in earthen Ware. As it is at the same Distance from _Ryswic_ as the _Hague_, the Amba.s.sadors of _France_ resided here during the Congress. 'Tis now inhabited by several People, who either from being weary of the World, or by Reason of Misfortunes, have chose Retirement.

From hence you will imagine, 'tis not a very gay Place, so that I made no Stay here, nor no Acquaintance.

ROTTERDAM, three Leagues from _Delft_, is by much the most populous Place, and is only inferior to _Amsterdam_, on Account of its Commerce. Its Situation on the _Maese_, six Leagues from the Sea, gives it a Communication with all the Towns of _Holland_, and the neighbouring Provinces, both by means of that River, and several Ca.n.a.ls and Rivers that fall into it. Its greatest Trade is with _England_ and _France_, and here are three _English_ Churches, _viz._ One that is Episcopal, or of the Church of _England_ by Law establish'd, one _Presbyterian_, and one _Scots_. As to us Catholics, we have several Churches here in Chambers, and the Jews have a neat Synagogue.

The Statue of _Erasmus_, the Restorer of the _Latin_ Tongue, which is placed in the Market-place, is altogether plain. This learned Man is represented in the Habit of a Doctor, holding a Book in his Hand. The Pedestal is plainly decorated with a _Latin_ Inscription, as is the House where he was born, which is preserved just as it was then, and is a very small and mean Building. 'Tis said, that on the same Square where _Erasmus_'s Statue stands, the Magistrates intend to erect a Stadthouse, of which they are really in great Need, that which they have being a very sorry one. If this Project takes, it were to be wished that they may employ a more able Architect, and a more diligent one than they have made use of in building an Exchange, which has been a long Time begun, and is but half finish'd yet. 'Tis true, that as it is, 'tis too large for the Number of Merchants that meet in it; but after all, 'tis amazing that a City, which has the Reputation of being wealthy, should let one of its princ.i.p.al Edifices stand unfinish'd.

There are some magnificent Houses in this Town, but its greatest Ornament is its Ca.n.a.ls, broad and deep enough for the Entrance of Shipping, which is a great Convenience to its Trade. I know not how sociable the People are at _Rotterdam_; for tho' I have gone through it several times, I never stay'd long enough there to make any Acquaintance in it. I always took the Air for most part upon the fine Kay that runs along the _Maese_, which is beautified with a pleasant Row of Trees on one Side, and n.o.ble Houses on the other.

From _Rotterdam_ I went thro' _Maeslandsluys_ to the BRILLE, a well fortified Town upon the _Maese_, near the Mouth of that River. This Town is famous in the History of the _Netherlands_, because in the Year 1572, _William de Lumai_, Count _de la Marck_, and some of his Confederates, who went out to Sea, to avoid falling into the Hands of the Duke of _Alva_, took it by Surprize, and there laid the first Foundations of the Liberty of the United Provinces.

When I left the _Brille_, I came to HELVOETSLUYS, the saddest Place in all _Holland_. The Winds, which have been boisterous for some Days, hinder the Packet-Boat and me from setting out for _England_. In the mean time, I am very ill here. I am cramm'd twice a Day with boil'd Ducks, roasted Ducks, and others tossed up with a high Ragou, and yet I am ask'd if I will not please to have more Seasoning. Perhaps it was this Town only that a certain _Frenchman_ had seen, when he said that he had taken Notice of but three Things in _Holland_, and they began all three with the Syllable Ca, _viz._ _Ca.n.a.ls_, _Canards_ (Ducks), and _Canaille_, _i. e._ Mob; for certainly there are other Things to be seen in the rest of Holland, where there are as many genteel People as in any Country in the World. Nay, I dare affirm, that a certain Candour prevails here, which is perhaps not so general elsewhere. 'Tis rare for a _Dutchman_ to know the Arts of Tricking and Cheating, and he is of a friendly Disposition, if his Purse be out of the Question. If they were not so much in Love with their Money, there would be as few Faults to find with this Nation as any. I could like to live with 'em very well. When one treats them with Civility, one may do any thing with 'em. And it was a Saying of the Emperor _Charles_ V. _You must give the_ Dutch _good Words, leave 'em the Shadow of Liberty, but make them pay well for it_.

Be these People as much as they will for their own Interest, they are charitable, and would have every one live. They have not perhaps that gay Wit, which is of all Things so taking; but then they have good Sense. I have often taken a Place in the Boats, on purpose to hear what was said there; and have been surprised to find the common People talk of Trade, of the Interests of the State, and of other Countries, of the Manners of different People, of the History of their own Country, and in short, of a thousand other Things, with more Justness, perhaps, than a great many Epigrammatists, Stanza-makers, and Rhymesters could do elsewhere.

For the rest, this Country is as charming in some Things, as it is disagreeable in others. 'Tis certain, that the People are now and then too insolent; yet a _Dutchman_ does not care to be the first to give an Affront; and unless a Foreigner provokes him by his Pride, or his Pertness, he will indulge himself in his Phlegm.

I can't imagine why Foreigners take a Pleasure to run down _Holland_, as a Country where they have been skinn'd. This might have been the Case with 'em in such a Hole as _Helvoetsluys_, or else at _Rotterdam_, when one _Carpentier_, a _French_ Refugee, kept the Sign there of the Marshal _de Turenne_; but 'tis not so in a good Town, where every Foreigner, I mean such as are willing to be sociable, and to eat at the Landlord's Table, know what they have for their Money. The Ordinary is settled, Wine, Lodging, and every Thing at a certain Price. Suppers are the only Meals that plunge deep in a Man's Purse, of which a Foreigner must be cautious.

As to Carriages, either by Land or Water, the Fare is fixed; and 'tis impossible for a Man to be cheated, unless it be in frosty Weather, when 'tis certain one is at the Mercy both of the Watermen and Coachmen.

'Tis wrong also for some Foreigners to cry out, as they do, against Justice, which I find more impartial here than elsewhere. But it does not always act with the Vivacity which a Foreigner would wish for, who often has neither the Time, nor the Means, nor the Inclination to wait for it.

He then finds fault with Justice, when he ought rather to blame the Situation of his Affairs.

I fear that you will be angry with me for having abused your Attention by this long Letter, which I now conclude, by a.s.suring you, that n.o.body can be more intirely than I am, &c.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LETTER LIII.

_SIR_, _London, April 12, 1733._

'Tis not possible for me to be insensible how greatly I am obliged to you for that Uneasiness which you seem to be under, till you can hear of my Arrival in some safe Harbour of this Kingdom, tho' 'tis no more than what I expected from such a Friend as you. I should have prevented your Anxiety upon this Score, if I had not thought it proper to take a little View of this Country, before I wrote one Word to you about it; and now I flatter myself that I am able to satisfy your Curiosity.

I had one of the most favourable Pa.s.sages that could be; for in less than eighteen Hours, I came from _Helvoetsluys_ to _Harwich_, which is the Harbour for the Packet-Boats that pa.s.s betwixt this Kingdom and _Holland_.

_Harwich_ not seeming to me to be worth a Traveller's Notice, I only stopped to hire Horses, and came with all Speed to London. _That City_, which for its Extent, the Number of its Inhabitants, and their Wealth, may pa.s.s, not only for the Capital of a powerful Kingdom, but even for the Capital of _Europe_: _That City_, where True Liberty bears Rule; where the Arts and Sciences are cultivated and protected; where the Inhabitants enjoy the Goods of Fortune without vain Ostentation; where Merit is considered, and Birth highly valued, when 'tis accompanied with Virtue: _That City_, in fine, where are still to be found those _Roman_ Souls, which other Nations admire, but know not how to imitate.

Yet _London_, with all the Attributes I have now given it, with its magnificent Structures, both sacred and profane, cannot be rank'd among the finest Cities; for many of its Streets being dirty and ill-paved, its Houses of Brick, not very high, nor adorn'd with Architecture, but blacken'd with the unmerciful Smoke of Coal-fires, gives it a dark Hue, which renders it far less agreeable than it would be otherwise.

The Riches of _London_, if not of all _England_, are owing to the _Thames_, and the Citizens set more Value by this River, than by any other Advantage that they enjoy: Of this a certain old Alderman had the Courage to give King _Charles_ II. a convincing Proof, at a Time when that Monarch was so extremely angry with the City of _London_, that when the Lord Mayor and Aldermen went to Court, with a View to pacify him, he exclaimed bitterly against them, and told 'em, that he knew how to make them feel the whole Weight of his Resentment, and that he would for that End remove his Court to _Oxford_. At this the old Alderman, who pretended to be hard of Hearing, said to a n.o.bleman that was present at the Audience, loud enough to be over-heard by the King, _What says his Majesty_, my Lord?

_Will he in his Wrath take the_ Thames _from us?_ Meaning thereby, that since the King could not take that River from the City, the Inhabitants would not be sorry for his going to _Oxford_. Indeed, in all my Travels I never saw a finer Sight than this River, from its Mouth to _London_-Bridge: For besides its being continually covered with Ships, Barges, Boats, &c. going up and down with the Tide, its Banks are adorned with a Variety of fine Scenes, such as Towns, Villages, and Country-Houses. Among others, there's the great and magnificent Hospital of _Greenwich_, founded in the Reign of _Charles_ II. for disabled Seamen, or the Invalids of the Navy. Tho' this Structure is not yet finish'd, it may be rank'd amongst the most considerable in _Europe_, and is not inferior in Grandeur to many Royal Palaces. Its Situation also is so charming, that were it for that alone, it were worth while to take a Turn on Purpose to see it.