thinker in religion, nor has courage to be patron of an atheistical book, while he is guardian of the queen's conscience. Although, after all, to speak my private opinion, I cannot think these such mighty objections to his character as some would pretend. The person who now presides at the council, * is descended from a great and honourable father, not from the dregs of the people; he was at the head of the treasury for some years, and rather chose to enrich his prince than himself. In the height of favour and credit, he sacrificed the greatest employment in the kingdom to his conscience and honour; he has been always firm in his loyalty and religion, zealous for supporting the prerogative of the crown, and preserving the liberties of the people. But then his best friends must own, that he is neither deist nor socinian; he has never conversed. with Toland to open and enlarge his thoughts, and dispel the prejudices of education; nor was he ever able to arrive at that perfection of gallantry, to ruin and imprison the husband, in order to keep the wife without disturbance. † Laurence Hyde, late Earl of Rochester, in the room of Lord Somers, whose low birth and freethinking principles are here sneered at. + Mrs Manley, in a Supplement to the New Atalantes, entitled, "The Memoirs of Europe towards the close of the Eighth Century," thus enlarges on the intrigue laid to the charge of the celebrated Lord Somers: "Cicero himself, (Somers) an oracle of wisdom, was whirled about by his lusts at the pleasure of a fantastic worn-out mistress. He prostituted his inimitable sense, reason, and good nature, either to revenge or reward, as her caprice directed; and what made this commerce more detestable, this mistress of his was a wife! Impious excess! Abominable adultery! Were there not enough of the frail race unmarried? Had not Sergius's (Wharton's) immemorial assiduities corrupted enough of that order, but this patrician, this director of nations and im The present lord-steward has been always distinguished for his wit and knowledge; is of consummate wisdom and experience in affairs; has continued constant to the true interest of the nation, which he espoused from the beginning; and is every way qualified to support the dignity of his office but, in point of oratory, must give place to his predecessor. perial assemblies, must bring his pollutions to defile the marriage bed, and corrupt a wife? nay, which is more execrable, the wife of a friend. Was it not a good comedy, or rather a farce, when you beheld this sententious man, this decisive orator, who, by the enchantments of his persuasion, left not even destiny to herself, for fate and fortune were, whenever he spoke, his slaves-to see this great, this stupendous man, that could enchant an empire with the music of his voice, skulking in the obscene habit of a slave, hiding his face in an abject robe, as if that could conceal his vices; waiting at a back door to get undiscovered entrance into his own palace, after passing the guilty night in adultery with an infamous prostitute; and this not for once or twice, but for months and years, till his sin was become as confirmed a habit as his hypocrisy! The poor husband, distracted with his wrongs, grows incapable of following the necessary duties of his calling, by which neglect his maintenance fell, and he drank the bitter draught of poverty; the adulterers rioting in all the luxuries of the east; shifting abodes in scandalous bye-corners from place to place, for fear the cuckold's prerogative should seize upon the ornaments and riches of his wife as lawful spoil; which, when he was so lucky as to do, the vindictive patrician interposed with a thorough revenge, first casting him into a loathsome prison, where, when he had sufficiently languished, a warrant was produced to the gaoler to deliver his prisoner to some persons, who receiving him into their custody, disposed of him in such sort, that to this day he has never been heard of. Let the idolaters (Whigs) consider how much they ought to pride themselves in the morality, religion, and virtue, of this atlas of their empire." John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham and Normanby, in the room of the Duke of Devonshire. This last nobleman was a worthy and accomplished man, but it would seem no orator. The Duke of Shrewsbury* was highly instrumental in bringing about the Revolution, in which service he freely exposed his life and fortune. He has ever been the favourite of the nation, being possessed of all the amiable qualities that can accomplish a great man; but, in the agreeableness and fragrancy of his person, and the profoundness of his politics, must be allowed to fall very short of Mr Harley had the honour of being chosen speaker successively to three parliaments. He was the first, of late years, who ventured to restore the forgotten custom of treating his prince with duty and respect; easy and disengaged in private conversation, with such a weight of affairs upon his shoulders; of great learning, and as great a favourer and protector of it; intrepid by nature, as well as by the consciousness of his own integrity; and a despiser of money, pursuing the true interest of his prince and country against all obstacles; sagacious to view into the remotest consequences of things, by which all difficulties fly before him; a firm friend, and a placable enemy, sacrificing his justest resentments, not only to public good, but to common intercession and acknowledgment. Yet, with all these virtues, it must be granted, there is some mixture of human infirmity. His greatest admirers must confess his skill at cards and dice to be very low and superficial: in horse-racing he is utterly ignorant; then, to save a few millions to the public, he never regards how many worthy ci * Lord chamberlain, in the room of Henry de Grey, Earl, and successively Marquis and Duke of Kent. +Chancellor of the exchequer, upon the removal of Lord Godolphin. tizens he hinders from making up their plumb. And surely there is one thing never to be forgiven him, that he delights to have his table filled with black coats, whom he uses as if they were gentle men. My Lord Dartmouth † is a man of letters, full of good sense, good nature, and honour; of strict virtue and regularity in his life; but labours under one great defect, that he treats his clerks with more civility and good manners, than others in his station have done the queen. Omitting some others, I shall close this character of the present ministry with that of Mr St John; + who, from his youth, applying those admirable talents of nature, and improvements of art, to public business, grew eminent in court and parliament, at an age when the generality of mankind is employed in trifles and folly. It is to be lamented, that he has not yet procured himself a busy, important countenance; nor learned that profound part of wisdom, to be difficult of access. Besides, he has clearly mistaken the true use of books, which he has thumbed and spoiled with reading, when he ought to have multiplied them on his shelyes: not like a great man of my acquaintance, who knew a book by the back, better than a friend by the face; * Lord Godolphin was fond of gaming and horse-racing. Hence, in the satire called Sid Hamet's Rod, Swift exhorts him to cut his staff of office into a Newmarket switch. It seems to be here insinuated, that his mode of managing the funds gave undue advantages to the creditors of the public. + He succeeded the Earl of Sunderland as secretary of state. His predecessor, like most of the Marlborough family, to which he was allied by marrying one of the Duke's daughters, had endeavoured rather to compel, than to solicit the queen's compli ance with their measures. 1 Secretary of state, in the room of Mr Henry Boyle, although he had never conversed with the former, and often with the latter. No. XXVII. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1710-11. Caput est in omni procuratione negotii et muneris publici, ut avaritia pellatur etiam minima suspicio. In every employment, in every public office, it is of the utmost importance to keep free from even the least suspicion of avarice. THERE is no vice which mankind carries to such wild extremes, as that of avarice. Those two which seem to rival it in this point, are lust and ambition; but the former is checked by difficulties and diseases, destroys itself by its own pursuits, and usually declines with old age; and the latter requiring courage, conduct, and fortune in a high degree, and meeting with a thousand dangers and oppositions, succeeds too seldom in an age to fall under common observation. Or, avarice is perhaps the same passion with ambition; only placed *This extremely severe paper relates entirely to that great blemish in the character of Marlborough, his insatiable thirst for money. |