The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 5/Intelligencers

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search

THE


INTELLIGENCER.


NUMBER I.





IT may be said, without offence to other cities of much greater consequence to the world, that our town of Dublin does not want its due proportion of folly and vice, both native and imported; and as to those imported, we have the advantage to receive them last, and consequently, after our happy manner, to improve and refine upon them.

But because there are many effects of folly and vice among us, whereof some are general, others confined to smaller numbers, and others again perhaps to a few individuals; there is a society lately established, who at great expense have erected an office of intelligence, from which they are to receive weekly information of all important events and singularities, which this famous metropolis can furnish. Strict injunctions are given to have the truest information; in order to which, certain qualified persons are employed to attend upon duty in their several posts; some at the playhouse, others in churches; some at balls, assemblies, coffeehouses, and meetings for quadrille; some at the several courts of justice, both spiritual and temporal; some at the college; some upon my lord mayor and aldermen in their publick affairs; lastly, some to converse with favourite chambermaids, and to frequent those alehouses and brandyshops where the footmen of great families meet in a morning; only the barracks and parliament house are excepted; because we have yet found no enfans perdus bold enough to venture their persons at either. Out of these and some other storehouses, we hope to gather materials enough to inform, or divert, or correct, or vex the town.

But as facts, passages, and adventures of all kinds are likely to have the greatest share in our paper, whereof we cannot always answer for the truth; due care shall be taken to have them applied to feigned names, whereby all just offence will be removed; for if none be guilty, none will have cause to blush or be angry; if otherwise, then the guilty person is safe for the future upon his present amendment, and safe for the present from all but his own conscience.

There is another resolution taken among us, which I fear will give a greater and more general discontent, and is of so singular a nature that I have hardly confidence enough to mention it, although it be absolutely necessary by way of apology for so bold and unpopular an attempt. But so it is, that we have taken a desperate counsel, to produce into the world every distinguished action either of justice, prudence, generosity, charity, friendship, or publick spirit, which comes well attested to us. And although we shall neither here be so daring as to assign names, yet we shall hardly forbear to give some hints, that perhaps to the great displeasure of such deserving persons, may endanger a discovery. For we think that even virtue itself should submit to such a mortification, as by its visibility and example will render it more useful to the world. But however, the readers of these papers need not be in pain of being overcharged with so dull and ungrateful a subject. And yet who knows, but such an occasion may be offered to us once in a year or two, after we have settled a correspondence round the kingdom.

But, after all our boast of materials sent us by our several emissaries, we may probably soon fall short, if the town will not be pleased to lend us farther asistance toward entertaining itself. The world best knows its own faults and virtues, and whatever is sent shall be faithfully returned back, only a little embellished according to the custom of authors. We do therefore demand and expect continual advertisements in great numbers to be sent to the printer of this paper, who has employed a judicious secretary, to collect such as may be most useful for the publick.

And although we do not intend to expose our own persons by mentioning names, yet we are so far from requiring the same caution in our correspondents, that, on the contrary, we expressly charge and command them, in all the facts they send us, to set down the names, titles, and places of abode at length; together with a very particular description of the persons, dresses, dispositions of the several lords, ladies, 'squires, madams, lawyers, gamesters, toupees, sots, wits, rakes, and informers, whom they shall have occasion to mention; otherwise it will not be possible for us to adjust our style to the different qualities and capacities of the persons concerned, and treat them with the respect, or familiarity, that may be due to their stations and characters, which we are determined to observe with the utmost strictness, that none may have cause to complain.





THE INTELLIGENCER. No. 3.


Ipse pet omnei
Ibit personas, et turbam reddet in unam.


THE players having now almost done with the comedy called the Beggar's Opera for the season; it may be no unpleasant speculation, to reflect a little upon this dramatick piece, so singular in the subject and manner, so much an original, and which has frequently given so very agreeable an entertainment.

Although an evil taste be very apt to prevail, both here and in London; yet there is a point, which, whoever can rightly touch, will never fail of pleasing a very great majority; so great, that the dislikers out of dulness or affectation will be silent, and forced to fall in with the herd: the point I mean is, what we call humour; which, in its perfection, is allowed to be much preferable to wit; if it be not rather the most useful and agreeable species of it.

I agree with sir William Temple, that the word is peculiar to our English tongue; but I differ from him in the opinion, that the thing itself is peculiar to the English nation, because the contrary may be found in many Spanish, Italian, and French productions: and particularly, whoever has a taste for true humour, will find a hundred instances of it in those volumes printed in France under the name of Le Theatre Italien; to say nothing of Rabelais, Cervantes, and many others.

Now I take the comedy, or farce (or whatever name the criticks will allow it) called the Beggar's Opera, to excel in this article of humour; and upon that merit to have met with such prodigious success, both here and in England.

As to poetry, eloquence, and musick, which are said to have most power over the minds of men; it is certain that very few have a taste or judgment of the excellencies of the two former; and if a man succeed in either, it is upon the authority of those few judges, that lend their taste to the bulk of readers, who have none of their own. I am told there are as few good judges in musick; and that among those who crowd the operas, nine in ten go thither merely out of curiosity, fashion, or affectation.

But a taste for humour is in some manner fixed to the very nature of man, and generally obvious to the vulgar: except upon subjects too refined, and superiour to their understanding.

And, as this taste of humour is purely natural, so is humour itself; neither is it a talent confined to men of wit or learning; for we observe it sometimes among common servants, and the meanest of the people, while the very owners are often ignorant of the gift they possess.

I know very well, that this happy talent is contemptibly treated by criticks, under the name of low humour, or low comedy; but I know likewise that the Spaniards and Italians, who are allowed to have the most wit of any nations in Europe, do most excel in it, and do most esteem it.

By what disposition of the mind, what influence of the stars, or what situation of the climate, this endowment is bestowed upon mankind, may be a question fit for philosophers to discuss. It is certainly the best ingredient toward that kind of satire, which is most useful, and gives the least offence; which, instead of lashing, laughs men out of their follies and vices; and is the character that gives Horace the preference to Juvenal.

And, although some things are too serious, solemn, or sacred, to be turned into ridicule, yet the abuses of them are certainly not; since it is allowed that corruptions in religion, politicks, and law, may be proper topicks for this kind of satire.

There are two ends that men propose in writing satire: one of them less noble than the other, as regarding nothing farther than the private satisfaction and pleasure of the writer; but without any view toward personal malice: the other is a publick spirit, prompting men of genius and virtue to mend the world as far as they are able. And as both these ends are innocent, so the latter is highly commendable. With regard to the former, I demand, whether I have not as good a title to laugh, as men have to be ridiculous; and to expose vice, as another has to be vicious. If I ridicule the follies and corruptions of a court, a ministry, or a senate, are they not amply paid by pensions, titles, and power, while I expect and desire no other reward, than that of laughing with a few friends in a corner? yet, if those who take offence think me in the wrong, I am ready to change the scene with them whenever they please.

But, if my design be to make mankind better, then I think it is my duty; at least, I am sure it is the interest of those very courts and ministers, whose follies or vices I ridicule, to reward me for my good intentions: for, if it be reckoned a high point of wisdom to get the laughers on our side; it is much more easy, as well as wise, to get those on our side who can make millions laugh when they please.

My reason for mentioning courts and ministers (whom I never think on but with the most profound veneration), is, because an opinion obtains, that in the Beggar's Opera there appears to be some reflection upon courtiers and statesmen, whereof I am by no means a judge.

It is true indeed, that Mr. Gay, the author of this piece, has been somewhat singular in the course of his fortunes; for it has happened, that after fourteen years attending the courts with a large stock of real merit, a modest and agreeable conversation, a hundred promises, and five hundred friends, he has failed of preferment; and upon a very weighty reason. He lay under the suspicion of having written a libel, or lampoon against a great minister[1]. It is true, that great minister was demonstratively convinced, and publickly owned his conviction, that Mr. Gay was not the author; but having lain under the suspicion, it seemed very just that he should suffer the punishment; because, in this most reformed age, the virtues of a prime minister are no more to be suspected, than the chastity of Cæsar's wife.

It must be allowed, that the Beggar's Opera is not the first of Mr. Gay's works, wherein he has been faulty with regard to courtiers and statesmen. For, to omit his other pieces, even in his fables, published within two years past, and dedicated to the duke of Cumberland, for which he was promised a reward, he has been thought somewhat too bold upon the courtiers. And although it be highly probable he meant only the courtiers of former times, yet he acted unwarily, by not considering that the malignity of some people, might misinterpret what he said to the disadvantage of present persons and affairs.

But I have now done with Mr. Gay as a politician: and shall consider him henceforward only as author of the Beggar's Opera, wherein he has, by a turn of humour entirely new, placed vices of all kinds in the strongest and most odious light; and thereby done eminent service both to religion and morality. This appears from the unparallelled success he has met with. All ranks, parties, and denominations of men, either crowding to see his opera, or reading it with delight in their closets; even ministers of state, whom he is thought to have most offended (next to those whom the actors represent) appearing frequently at the theatre, from a consciousness of their own innocence, and to convince the world how unjust a parallel, malice, envy, and disaffection to the government, have made.

I am assured that several worthy clergymen in this city went privately to see the Beggar's Opera represented; and that the fleering coxcombs in the pit amused themselves with making discoveries, and spreading the names of those gentlemen round the audience.

I shall not pretend to vindicate a clergyman, who would appear openly in his habit at the theatre, with such a vicious crew as might probably stand round him, at such comedies and profane tragedies as are often represented. Besides, I know very well, that persons of their function are bound to avoid the appearance of evil, or of giving cause of offence. But when the lords chancellors, who are keepers of the king's conscience; when the judges of the land, whose title is reverend; when ladies, who are bound by the rules of their sex to the strictest decency, appear in the theatre without censure; I cannot understand, why a young clergyman, who comes concealed out of curiosity to see an innocent and moral play, should be so highly condemned: nor do I much approve the rigour of a great prelate, who said, "he hoped none of his clergy were there." I am glad to hear there are no weightier objections against that reverend body planted in this city, and I wish there never may. But I should be very sorry that any of them should be so weak, as to imitate a court chaplain[2] in England, who preached against the Beggar's Opera, which will probably do more good than a thousand sermons of so stupid, so injudicious, and so prostitute a divine.

In this happy performance of Mr. Gay's all the characters are just, and none of them carried beyond nature, or hardly beyond practice. It discovers the whole system of that commonwealth, or that imperium in imperio of iniquity, established among us, by which neither our lives nor our properties are secure, either in the highways, or in publick assemblies, or even in our own houses. It shows the miserable lives, and the constant fate, of those abandoned wretches: for how little they sell their lives and souls; betrayed by their whores, their comrades, and the receivers and purchasers of those thefts and robberies. This comedy contains likewise a satire, which, without inquiring whether it affects the present age, may possibly be useful in times to come; I mean, where the author takes the occasion of comparing the commion robbers of the publick, and their several stratagems of betraying, undermining, and hanging each other, to the several arts of politicians in times of corruption.

This comedy likewise exposes, with great justice, that unnatural taste for Itallan musick among us, which is wholly unsuitable to our northern climate, and the genius of the people, whereby we are overrun with Italian effeminacy, and Italian nonsense. An old gentleman said to me, that many years ago, when the practice of an unnatural vice grew frequent in London, and many were prosecuted for it, he was sure it would be the forerunner of Italian operas and singers; and then we should want nothing but stabbing, or poisoning, to make us perfect Italians.

Upon the whole, I deliver my judgment, that nothing but servile attachment to a party, affectation of singularity, lamentable dulness, mistaken zeal, or studied hypocrisy, can have the least reasonable objection against this excellent moral performance of the celebrated Mr. Gay.





THE INTELLIGENCER. No. 19.


Having, on the 12th of October last, received a letter signed Andrew Dealer and Patrick Pennyless, I believe the following Paper, just come to my hands, will be a sufficient answer to it.


Sic vos non nobis vellera fertis, oves.
Not for yourselves, ye sheep, your fleeces grow.


N. B. In the following discourse, the AUTHOR personates a country gentleman in the north of Ireland. And this letter is supposed as directed to the Drapier.


Sir,


I AM a country gentleman, and a member of parliament, with an estate of about 1400l. a year; which, as a northern landlord, I receive from above two hundred tenants: and my lands having been let near twenty years ago, the rents, until very lately, were esteemed to be not above half value; yet, by the intolerable scarcity of silver, I lie under the greatest difficulties in receiving them, as well as in paying my labourers, or buying any thing necessary for my family from tradesmen, who are not able to be long out of their money. But the sufferings of me, and those of my rank, are trifles in comparison of what the meaner sort undergo; such as the buyers and sellers at fairs and markets; the shopkeepers in every town; and farmers in general; ail those who travel with fish, poultry, pedlary-ware, and other conveniencies to sell: but more especially handicraftsmen, who work for us by the day; and common labourers, whom I have already mentioned. Both these kinds of people I am forced to employ until their wages amount to a double pistole, or a moidore (for we hardly have any gold of lower value left us) to divide it among themselves as they can: and this is generally done at an alehouse, or brandyshop; where, beside the cost of getting drunk (which is usually the case) they must pay ten pence or a shilling for changing their piece into silver to some huckstering fellow, who follows that trade. But, what is infinitely worse, those poor men, for want of due payment, are forced to take up their oatmeal, and other necessaries of life, at almost double value; and consequently are not able to discharge half their score, especially under the scarceness of corn for two years past, and the melancholy disappointment of the present crop.

The causes of this, and a thousand other evils, are clear and manifest to you and all thinking men, although hidden from the vulgar; these indeed complain of hard times, the dearth of corn, the want of money, the badness of seasons; that their goods bear no price, and the poor cannot find work; but their weak reasonings never carry them to the hatred and contempt born us by our neighbours and brethren, without the least grounds of provocation; who rejoice at our sufferings, although sometimes to their own disadvantage. They consider not the dead weight upon every beneficial branch of our trade; that half our revenues are annually sent to England; with many other grievances peculiar to this unhappy kingdom; which keeps us from enjoying the common benefits of mankind; as you, and some other lovers of their country have so often observed, with such good inclinations, and so little effect.

It is true indeed, that under our circumstances in general, this complaint for the want of silver, may appear as ridiculous, as for a man to be impatient about a cut finger, when he is struck with the plague: and yet a poor fellow going to the gallows, may be allowed to feel the smart of wasps while he is upon Tyburn road. This misfortune is so urging and vexatious in every kind of small traffick, and so hourly pressing upon all persons in the country whatsoever, that a hundred inconveniencies, of perhaps greater moment in themselves, have been tamely submitted to, with far less disquietude and murmur. And the case seems yet the harder, if it be true, what many skilful men assert, that nothing is more easy than a remedy; and, that the want of silver, in proportion to the little gold remaining among us, is altogether as unnecessary, as it is inconvenient. A person of distinction assured me very lately, that, in discoursing with the lord lieutenant[3] before his last return to England, his excellency said, "He had pressed the matter often, in proper time and place, and to proper persons; and could not see any difficulty of the least moment, that could prevent us from being made easy upon this article."

Whoever carries to England twenty-seven English shillings, and brings back one moidore of full weight, is a gainer of nine pence Irish: in a guinea, the advantage is three pence; and two pence in a pistole. The bankers, who are generally masters of all our gold and silver, with this advantage, have sent over as much of the latter as came into their hands. The value of one thousand moidores in silver would thus amount in clear profit to 37l. 10s. The shopkeepers, and other traders, who go to London to buy goods, followed the same practice; by which we have been driven into this insupportable distress.

To a common thinker it should seem, that nothing would be more easy than for the government to redress this evil, at any time they shall please. When the value of guineas was lowered in England from 21s. and 6d. to only 21s. the consequences to this kingdom were obvious, and manifest to us all: and a sober man may be allowed at least to wonder, although he dare not complain, why a new regulation of coin among us was not then made; much more, why it has never been since. It would surely require no very profound skill in algebra to reduce the difference of nine pence in thirty shillings, or three pence in a guinea to lest than a farthing; and so small a fraction could be no temptation either to bankers to hazard their silver at sea, or tradesmen to load themselves with it in their journies to England. In my humble opinion it would be no unseasonable condescension, if the government would graciously please to signify to the poor loyal protestant subjects of Ireland, either that this miserable want of silver is not possibly to be remedied in any degree by the nicest skill in arithmetick; or else that it does not stand with the good pleasure of England to suffer any silver at all among us. In the former case, it would be madness to expect impossibilities; and in the other, we must submit: for lives and fortunes are always at the mercy of the conqueror.

The question has been often put in printed papers, by the drapier and others, or perhaps by the same writer under different styles, why this kingdom should not be permitted to have a mint of its own for the coinage of gold, silver, and copper; which is a power exercised by many bishops, and every petty prince, in Germany? But this question has never been answered, nor the least application, that I have heard of, made to the crown from hence for the grant of a publick mint; although it stands upon record, that several cities, and corporations here, had the liberty of coining silver. I can see no reasons, why we alone, of all nations, are thus restrained, but such as I dare not mention: only thus far I may venture, that Ireland is the first imperial kingdom since Nimrod, which ever wanted power to coin their own money.

I know very well, that in England it is lawful for any subject to petition either the prince or the parliament, provided it be done in a dutiful and regular manner: but what is lawful for a subject of Ireland, I profess I cannot determine: nor will undertake that the printer shall not be prosecuted in a court of justice for publishing my wishes, that a poor shopkeeper might be able to change a guinea or a moidore, when a customer comes for a crown's worth of goods. I have known less crimes punished with the utmost severity, under the title of disaffection. And I cannot but approve the wisdom of the ancients, who, after Astrea had fled from the earth, at least took care to provide three upright judges for Hell. Men's ears among us are indeed grown so nice, that whoever happens to think out of fashion, in what relates to the welfare of this kingdom, dare not so much as complain of the toothach, lest our weak and busy dabblers in politicks, should be ready to swear against him for disaffection.

There was a method practised by sir Ambrose Crawley, the great dealer in iron works, which I wonder the gentlemen of our country, under this great exigence, have not thought fit to imitate. In the several towns and villages where he dealt, and many miles round, he gave notes instead of money (from two pence to twenty shillings) which passed current in all shops and markets, as well as in houses, where meat or drink was sold. I see no reason, why the like practice may not be introduced among us with some degree of success; or, at least, may not serve as a poor expedient in this our blessed age of paper; which, as it discharges all our greatest payments, may be equally useful in the smaller, and may just keep us alive, until an English act of parliament shall forbid it.

I have been told, that among some of our poorest American colonies upon the continent, the people enjoy the liberty of cutting the little money among them into halves and quarters, for the conveniencies of small traffick. How happy should we be, in comparison of our present condition, if the like privilege were granted to us of employing the sheers, for want of a mint, upon our foreign gold, by clipping it into half crowns, and shillings, and even lower denominations; for beggars must be content to live upon scraps; and it would be our felicity, that these scraps could never be exported to other countries, while any thing better was left.

If neither of these projects will avail, I see nothing left us but to truck and barter our goods, like the wild Indians, with each other, or with our too powerful neighbours; only with this disadvantage on our side, that the Indians enjoy the product of their own land; whereas the better half of ours is sent away, without so much as a recompense in bugles or glass in return.

It must needs be a very comfortable circumstance in the present juncture, that some thousand families are gone, are going, or preparing to go from hence, and settle themselves in America: the poorer sort for want of work; the farmers, whose beneficial bargains are now become a rackrent too hard to be born, and those who have any ready money, or can purchase any by the sale of their goods or leases, because they find their fortunes hourly decaying, that their goods will bear no price, and that few or none have any money to buy the very necessaries of life, are hastening to follow their departed neighbours. It is true, corn among us carries a very high price; but it is for the same reason, that rats and cats and dead horses have been often bought for gold in a town besieged.

There is a person of quality in my neighbourhood, who, twenty years ago, when he was just come to age, being unexperienced, and of a generous temper, let his lands, even as times went then, at a low rate to able tenants; and consequently, by the rise of lands since that time, looked upon his estate to be set at half value: but numbers of these tenants or their descendants, are now offering to sell their leases by cant[4], even those which were for lives, some of them renewable for ever, and some feefarms, which the landlord himself has bought in at half the price they would have yielded seven years ago. And some leases let at the same time for lives, have been given up to him, without any consideration at all.

This is the most favourable face of all things at present among us; I say, among us of the North, who were esteemed the only thriving people of the kingdom. And how far, and how soon, this misery and desolation may spread, it is easy to foresee.

The vast sums of money daily carried off by our numerous adventurers to America, have deprived us of our gold in these parts, almost as much as of our silver. And the good wives, who come to our houses, offer us their pieces of linen, upon which their whole dependance lies, for so little profit, that it can neither half pay their rents, nor half support their families.

It is remarkable, that this enthusiasm spread among our Northern people, of sheltering themselves in the continent of America, has no other foundation than their present insupportable condition at home. I have made all possible inquiries to learn what encouragement our people have met with, by any intelligence from those plantations, sufficient to make them undertake so tedious and hazardous a voyage, in all seasons of the year, and so ill accommodated in their ships, that many of them have died miserably in their passage, but could never get one satisfactory answer. Somebody, they knew not who, had written letters to his friend or cousin from thence, inviting him by all means to come over; that it was a fine fruitful country, and to be held for ever at a penny an acre. But the truth of the fact is this: the English established in those colonies are in great want of men to inhabit that tract of ground, which lies between them and the wild Indians, who are not reduced under their dominion. We read of some barbarous people, whom the Romans placed in their army for no other service than to blunt their enemies swords, and afterward to fill up trenches with their dead bodies. And thus our people, who transport themselves, are settled into those interjacent tracts, as a screen against the insults of the savages; and many have as much lands as they can clear from the woods, at a very reasonable rate, if they can afford to pay about a hundred years purchase by their labour. Now, beside the fox's reason[5], which inclines all those who have already ventured thither to represent every thing in a false light, as well for justifying their own conduct, as for getting companions in their misery, the governing people in those plantations have also wisely provided, that no letters shall be suffered to pass from thence hither, without being first viewed by the council; by which, our people here, are wholly deceived in the opinions they have of the happy condition of their friends gone before them. This was accidentally discovered some months ago by an honest man, who, having transported himself and family thither, and finding all things directly contrary to his hope, had the luck to convey a private note by a faithful hand to his relation here, entreating him not to think of such a voyage, and to discourage all his friends from attempting it. Yet this, although it be a truth well known, has produced very little effect; which is no manner of wonder: for, as it is natural to a man in a fever to turn often, although without any hope of ease; or, when he is pursued, to leap down a precipice, to avoid an enemy just at his back; so, men in the extremest degree of misery and want, will naturally fly to the first appearance of relief, let it be ever so vain or visionary.

You may observe, that I have very superficially touched the subject I began with, and with the utmost caution; for I know how criminal the least complaint has been thought, however seasonable or just or honestly intended, which has forced me to offer up my daily prayers, that it may never, at least in my time, be interpreted by innuendoes as a false, scandalous, seditious, and disaffected action, for a man to roar under an acute fit of the gout; which, beside the loss and the danger, would be very inconvenient to one of my age, so severely afflicted with that distemper.

I wish you good success, but, I can promise you little, in an ungrateful office you have taken up without the least view either to reputation or profit. Perhaps your comfort is, that none but villains and betrayers of their country can be your enemies. Upon which I have little to say, having not the honour to be acquainted with many of that sort; and therefore, as you may easily believe, am compelled to lead a very retired life.

I am, Sir,

your most obedient

humble servant,

County of Down,
Dec. 2, 1728.

A. NORTH


  1. Sir Robert Walpole.
  2. This court chaplain was Dr. Thomas Herring, then preacher at Lincoln's Inn. He was made rector of Blechingly in 1731, and the same year dean of Rochester: was raised to the see of Bangor in 1737, translated to York in 1743, and to Canterbury in 1747. He died in 1757, at the age of 64. See a letter of Dr. Herring to Mr. Duncombe (who had written two letters in justification of the Sermon against the Beggar's Opera) in the preface to "Archbishop Herring's Seven Sermons on publick Occasions, 1763."
  3. The lord Carteret.
  4. Cant or auction.
  5. The fox who having lost his tail, would have persuaded the rest to cut off theirs.