they drove back the enemy with such bravery, that the victory began to incline to the allies by the precipitate retreat of the French to their works, from whence they were immediately beaten. The duke, upon observing this advantage on the right, commanded the earl of Orkney to march with a sufficient number of battalions, to force the enemy from their entrenchments on the plain between the woods of Sart and Jansart; which being performed, the horse of the allies marched into the plains, covered by their own foot, and forming themselves in good order, the cavalry of the enemy attempted no more but to cover the foot in their retreat. The allies made so good use of the beginning of the victory that all their troops moved on with fresh resolution, until they saw the enemy fly before them towards Condé and Maubeuge; after whom proper detachments were sent, who made a terrible slaughter in the pursuit. In this action, it is said, prince Eugene was wounded, as also the duke of Aremburg, and lieutenant-general Webb. The count of Oxenstern, colonel Lalo, and sir Thomas Pendergrass, were killed. This wonderful success, obtained under all the difficulties that could be opposed in the way of an army, must be acknowledged as owing to the genius, courage, and conduct of the duke of Marlborough, a consummate hero; who has lived not only beyond the time in which Cæsar said he was arrived at a satiety of life and glory; but also been so long the subject of panegyric, that it is as hard to say any thing new in his praise, as to add to the merit which requires such eulogiums. Will's Coffee-house, September 5. The following letter being very explanatory of the true design of our lucubrations, and at the same time an excellent model for performing it, it is absolutely necessary, for the better understanding our works to publish it. 6 SIR, TO ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, Esquire. Though I have not the honour to be of the family of the Staffs, nor related to any branch of it, yet I applaud your wholesome project of making wit useful. This is what has been, or should have been, intended by the best comedies. But nobody, I think, before you, thought of a way to bring the stage, as it were into the coffee-house, and there attack those gentlemen who thought themselves out of the reach of raillery, by prudently avoiding its chief walks and districts. I smile when I see a solid citizen of threescore read the article from Will's Coffee-house, and seem to be just beginning to learn his alphabet of wit in spectacles; and to hear the attentive table sometimes stop him with pertinent queries, which he is puzzled to answer, and then join commending it the sincerest way, by freely owning he does not understand it. In pursuing this design, you will always have a large scene before you, and can never be at a loss for characters to entertain a town so plentifully stocked with them. The follies of the finest minds, which a philosophic surgeon knows how to dissect, will best employ your skill and of this sort, I take the liberty to send you the following sketch. Cleontes is a man of good family, good learning, entertaining conversation, and acute wit. He talks well, is master of style, and writes not contemptibly in verse. Yet all this serves but to make him politely ridiculous; and he is above the rank of common characters only to have the privilege of being laughed at by the best. His family makes him proud and scornful; his learning, assuming and absurd; and his wit, arrogant and satirical. He mixes some of the best qualities of the head with the worst of the heart. Every body is entertained by him, while nobody esteems him. I am, Sir, your most affectionate monitor, 'JOSIAH COUPLET.' **Lost, from the Cocoa-tree, in Pall-Mall, two Irish dogs, belonging to the pack of London; one a tall white wolf dog; the other a black nimble greyhound, not very sound, and supposed to be gone to the Bath, by instinct, for cure. The man of the inn from whence they ran, being now there, is desired if he meets either of them, to tie them up. Several others are lost about Tunbridge and Epsom; which whoever will maintain may keep. N° 65. THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1709. Quicquid agunt homines · nostri est farrago libelli. Whatever good is done, whatever ill—— By human kind, shall this collection fill. Will's Coffee-house, September 7. I CAME hither this evening, and expected nothing else but mutual congratulations in the company on the late victory; but found our room, which one would have hoped to have seen full of good humour and alacrity upon so glorious an occasion, full of sour animals, inquiring into the action, in doubt of what had happened, and fearful of the success of their countrymen. It is natural to believe easily what we wish heartily; and a certain rule, that they are not friends to a glad occasion who speak all they can against the truth of it, who end their argument against their happiness, that they wish it otherwise. When I came into the room, a gentleman was declaiming: If,' says he, we have so great and complete a victory, why have we not the names of the prisoners? Why is not an exact relation of the conduct of our generals laid before the world? Why do we not know where and whom to applaud? If we are victorious, why do we not give an account of our captives and our slain? But we are to be satisfied with general notices we are conquerors, and to believe it so. Sure this is approving the despotic way of treating the world, which we pretend to fight against, if we sit down satisfied with such contradictory accounts, which have the words of triumph, but do not bear the spirit of it.' I whispered Mr. Greenhat, Pray, what can that dissatisfied man be?' He is,' answered he, a character you have not yet perhaps observed. You have heard of battle-painters, have mentioned a battle-poet; but this is a battle-critic. He is a fellow that lives in a government so gentle, that, though it sees him an enemy, suffers his malice, because they know his impotence. He is to examine the weight of an advantage before the company will allow it.' Greenhat was going on in his explanation, when Sir George England thought fit to take up the discourse in the following manner : Gentlemen, the action you are in so great doubt to approve of, is greater than ever has been performed in any age; and the value of it I observe from your dissatisfaction: for battle-critics are like all others; you are the more offended, the more you ought to be, and are convinced you ought to be pleased. Had this engagement happened in the time of the old Romans, and such things been acted in their service, there would not be a foot of the wood which was pierced but had been consecrated to some deity, or made memorable by the death of him who expired in it for the sake of his country. It had been said on some monument at the entrance; here the Duke of Argyle drew his sword, and said "march." Here Webb, after having an accomplished fame for gallantry, exposed himself like a common soldier. Here Rivett, who was wounded at the beginning of the day, and carried off as dead, returned to the field, and received his death. Medals had been struck for our general's behaviour when he first came into the plain. Here was the fury of the action, and here the hero stood as fearless as if invulnerable. Such certainly had been the cares of that state for their own honour, and in gratitude to their heroic subjects. But the wood intrenched, the plain made more impassable than the wood, and all the difficulties opposed to the most gallant army and the most intrepid leaders that ever the sun shone upon, are treated by the talk of some in this room as objections to the merit of our general and our army: but,' continued he, I leave all the examination of this matter, and a proper discourse on our sense of public actions, to my friend Mr. Bickerstaff; who may let beaux and gamesters rest, until he has examined into the reasons of men's being malecontents, in the only nation that suffers professed enemies to breathe in open air.' |