tices. But this irregularity in vision, together with
such enormities as tipping the wink, the circum-
spective roll, the side-peep through a thin hood or
fan, must be put in the class of heteroptics, as all
wrong notions of religion are ranked under the ge-out saying any thing further of it.
neral name of heterodox. All the pernicious ap-
plications of sight are more immediately under the
direction of a Spectator; and I hope you will arm
your readers against the mischiefs which are daily
done by killing eyes, in which you will highly
oblige your wounded unknown friend,
"T. B."*

the sounds of larks and nightingales, with all the
music of the fields and woods. I have lately re-
ceived a letter from some very odd fellow upon this
subject, which I shall leave with my reader, with-

'MR. SPECTATOR,
'You professed in several papers your particular
endeavours in the province of Spectator, to cor-
rect the offences committed by Starers, who dis-
turb whole assemblies without any regard to time,
place, or modesty. You complained also, that a
Starer is not usually a person to be convinced by
the reason of the thing, nor so easily rebuked as to
amend by admonitions. I thought, therefore, fit
to acquaint you with a convenient mechanical way,
which may easily prevent or correct staring, by an
optical contrivance of new perspective-glasses,
short and commodious like opera-glasses, fit for
short-sighted people as well as others, these glasses
making the objects appear either as they are seen
by the naked eye, or more distinct, though some-
what less than life, or bigger and nearer. A per-
son may, by the help of this invention, take a view
of another without the impertinence of staring; at
the same time, it shall not be possible to know
whom or what he is looking at. One may look to
wards his right or left hand, when he is supposed
to look forwards. This is set forth at large in the
printed proposals for the sale of these glasses, to
be had at Mr. Dillon's in Long-acre, next door to
the White-Hart. Now, sir, as your Spectator has
occasioned the publishing of this invention for the
benefit of modest spectators, the inventor desires
your admonitions concerning the decent use of it;
and hopes, by your recommendation, that for the
future beauty may be bebeld without the torture
and confusion which it suffers from the insolence of❘
Starers. By this means you will relieve the inno-
cent from an insult which there is no law to punish,
though it is a greater offence than many which are
within the cognizance of justice.

'I am, SIR,
'Your most humble servant,
ABRAHAM SPY.'
Q.

N° 251. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1711.

Linguæ centum sunt, oraque centum. Ferrea vor

VIRG. Æn. vi. ver. 625.

A hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, And throats of brass inspir'd with iron lungs. DRYDEN.

THERE is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner, and frights a country squire, than the Cries of London. My good friend Sir Roger often declares, that he cannot get them out of his head, or go to sleep for them, the first week that he is in town. On the contrary, Will Honeycomb calls them the ramage de la ville, and prefers them to

• Said to have been written by a Mr. Golding. See N° 252.

SIR,

I AM a man out of all business, and would wil lingly turn my head to any thing for an honest livelihood. I have invented several projects for raising many millions of money without burdening the subject, but I cannot get the parliament to listen to me, who look upon me, forsooth, as a crack, and a projector; so that despairing to enrich either myself or my country by this public-spiritedness, I would make some proposals to you relating to a design which I have very much at heart, and which may procure me a handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased to recommend it to the cities of London and Westminster.

The post I would aim at, is to be comptrollergeneral of the London Cries, which are at present under no manner of rules or discipline. I think I am pretty well qualified for this place, as being a man of very strong lungs, of great insight into all the branches of our British trades and manufactures, and of a competent skill in music.

'The Cries of London may be divided into vocal and instrumental. As for the latter, they are at present under a very great disorder. A freeman of London has the privilege of disturbing a whole street for an hour together, with the twanking of a brass kettle or a frying-pan. The watchinan's thump at midnight starties us in our beds, as much as the breaking in of a thief. The sowgelder's horn has indeed something musical in it, but this is seldom heard within the liberties. I would therefore propose, that no instrument of this nature should be made use of, which I have not tuned and licensed, after having carefully examined in what manner it may affect the ears of her majesty's liege subjects.

Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and indeed so full of incongruities and barbarisms, that we appear a distracted city to foreigners, who do not comprehend the meaning of such enormous outcries. Milk is generally sold in a note above E-la, and in sounds so exceeding shrill, that it often sets our teeth on edge. The chimney-sweeper is confined to no certain pitch; he sometimes utters himself in the deepest base, and sometimes in the sharpest treble; ometimes in the highest, and sometimes in the lowest note of the gamut. The same observation might be made on the retailers of smallcoal, not to mention broken glasses, or brick-dust. In these, therefore, and the like cases, it should be my care to sweeten and mellow the voices of these itinerant tradesmen, before they make their appearance in our streets, as also to accommodate their cries to their respective wares; and to take care in particular, that those may not make the most noise who have the least to sell, which is very observable in the venders of card-matches, to whom I cannot but apply that old proverb of “Much cry, but little wool."

Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so very loud in the sale of these trifling manufactures, that an honest splenetic gentleman of my acquaintance bargained with one of them never to come into the street where he lived. But what was the ellect of this contract? Why, the whole tribe of card-match-makers which frequent that quarter, passed by his door the very next day, in hopes of being bought off after the same manner.

It is another great imperfection in our London | commonly known by the name of the Colly-MollyCries, that there is no just time nor measure ob- Puff*; and such as is at this day the vender of served in them. Our news should indeed be pub-powder and wash-balls, who, if I am rightly inlished in a very quick time, because it is a com- formed, goes under the name of Powder-Watt. modity that will not keep cold. It should not, 'I must not here omit one particular absurdity however, be cried with the same precipitation as which runs through this whole vociferous generafire. Yet this is generally the case. A bloody tion, and which renders their cries very often not battle alarms the town from one end to an- only incommodious, but altogether useless to the other in an instant. Every motion of the French public. I mean, that idle accomplisement which is published in so great a hurry, that one would they all of them aim at, of crying so as not to be think the enemy were at our gates. This likewise understood. Whether or no they have learned this I would take upon me to regulate in such a manner, from several of our affected singers, I will not that there should be some distinction made between take upon me to say; but most certain it is, that the spreading of a victory, a march, or an encamp- people know the wares they deal in rather by their ment, a Dutch, a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. tunes than by their words; insomuch that I have Nor must I omit under this head those excessive sometimes seen a country boy run out to buy apples alarms with which several boisterous rustics infest of a bellows-mender, and ginger-bread from a our streets in turnip-season; and which are more grinder of knives and scissars. Nay, so strangely inexcusable, because these are wares which are in infatuated are some very eminent artists of this no danger of cooling upon their hands. particular grace in a cry, that none but their acquaintance are able to guess at their profession; for who else can know, that "work if I had it," should be the signification of a corn-cutter?

'There are others who affect a very slow time, and are in my opinion much more tuneable than the former. The cooper in particular swells his last note in an hollow voice, that is not without its harmony; nor can I forbear being inspired with a most agreeable melancholy, when I hear that sad and solemn air with which the public are very often asked, if they have any chairs to mend? Your own memory may suggest to you many other lamentable ditties of the same nature, in which the music is wonderfully languishing and melodious.

'I am always pleased with that particular time of the year which is proper for the pickling of dill and cucumbers; but, alas! this cry, like the song of the nightingale, is not heard above two months. It would therefore be worth while to consider, whether the same air might not in some cases be adapted to other words.

It might likewise deserve our most serious consideration, how far, in a well regulated city, those humorists are to be tolerated, who, not contented with the traditional cries of their forefathers, have invented particular songs and tunes of their own; such as was, not many years since, the pastry-man,

'Forasmuch, therefore, as persons of this rank are seldom men of genius or capacity, I think it would be very proper that some man of good sense and sound judgment should preside over these public cries, who should permit none to lift up their voices in our streets, that have not tunable throats, and are not only able to overcome the noise of the crowd, and the rattling of coaches, but also to vend their respective merchandises in apt phrases, and in the most distinct and agreeable sounds. I do therefore humbly recommend myself as a person rightly qualified for this post; and if I meet with fitting encouragement, shall communicate some other projects which I have by me, that may no less conduce to the emolument of the public. '1 am, SIR, &c.

SPECTATOR.

TO THE

VOL. IV.

DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH*.

MY LORD,

As it is natural to have a fondness for what has cost us much time and attention to produce, I hope your Grace will forgive my endeavour to

*John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, and Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, one of the ablest statesmen, and most polite courtiers, as well as one of the greatest generals, and most illustrious heroes of his age, was the son of Sir Winston Churchill, of Wotton Basset, in Wiltshire, and born at Ashe, in Devonshire, June 24, 1650. He was at first page of honour to James Duke of York; but being strongly inclined to a military life, he obtained, at the age of sixteen, an ensigncy in the guards, and in that quality served against the Moors at Tangier. In the war with the Dutch in 1672, he served under the Duke of Monmouth in the French army, where he distinguished himself so much by his gallantry and conduct, that he received the thanks of the French monarch at the head of the army. The Duke of Monmouth too, at his return to England, declared to King Charles the Second, that he owed his life at the siege of Maestrich to the bravery of Captain Churchill.' This opened the way for his further advancement; and he was accordingly appointed lieutenant-colonel of Littleton's regiment, and gentleman of the bed-chamber, and master of the robes to James Duke of York. This prince he afterwards attended, to the Low Countries, and to Scotland; and it was by the interest of his royal highness, that, in 1682, he was made Baron of Eymouth, and colonel of the third troop of guards. Upon the accession of King James to the throne, he was created Baron Churchill, of Sandridge, in the county of Hertford, and made brigadier-general of his majesty's army; and in this last capacity he had a considerable share in suppressing the Duke of Monmouth's rebellion. Great, however, as were the obligations which he lay under to his sovereign, those which he owed to his country were, in his opinion, much greater; for when he saw King James taking strides toward destroying the religion and liberties of his country, he immediately deserted him, and went over to the Prince of Orange. In the subsequent reign he enjoyed the same influence which he had possessed in the preceding. He was sworn of the privy-council, made one of the gentlemen, of the queen's bed-chamber, and created Earl of Marlborough. He afterwards served with great reputation, both in Flanders and in Ireland; but, in 1692, he was dismissed from all his employments, and even thrown into the tower on a suspicion of high treason. This suspicion, however, appearing, upon examination, to be altogether groundless, he was restored to favour, and appointed governor to the Duke of Gloucester, whom King William delivered into his hands with this remarkable expression, My lord, make him but what you are, and my nephew will be all that I wish to see him.' Upon the accession of Queen Anne to the throne, be was made a knight of the garter, and captain-general of her majesty's forces, and sent over to Holland with the character of ambassador extraordinary, and minister plenipotentiary. The states too, in compliment to the queen, and as a proof of their being sensible of the earl's own merit, constituted him captain-general of their forces, and assigned him a pen

preserve this work from oblivion, by affixing to it your memorable name.

I shall not here presume to mention the illustrious passages of your life, which are celebrated by the whole age, and have been the subject of the most sublime pens; but if I could convey you to posterity in your private character, and desion of one hundred thousand florins per annum. To relate all the achievements he performed during the ten years that ensued, i. e. from 1702 to 1712, would be almost to give a history of Queen Anne's reign. It may be sufficient here to observe, that he defeated the French armies, though headed by their ablest generals, and always superior to bim in point of number, in several pitched battles, at Blenheim, at Ra milies, at Oudenard, at Malplaquet, &c.; that he reduced almost every place of importance in the French and Spanish Netherlands; saved the empire; secured the United Provinces; raised the glory and consequence of Great Britain; and humbled the pride of the French monarch to such a degree, that that ambitious prince, who, but a few years before, had seized, in imagination, the dominions of all his neighbours, now began, in earnest, to tremble for his own. In a word, it may be said of this general, what can hardly be said of any other, that he never fought a battle which he did not gain, nor ever besieged a town which he did not take. Even in the earlier part of his life, he gave evident signs of what he afterwards proved. Prince Vaudemont, it is said, delivered himself to King William in the following terms: There is somewhat in the Earl of Marlborough, that I want words to express; he has all the fierceness of Kirke, all the judgment of Laniere, all the conduct of Mackay, and all the intrepidity of Colchester; and either my skill in faces deceives me, which yet it never did, or he will make a greater figure as a general, than any subject your majesty has.' The king smiled, and replied, Marlborough is obliged to you; but I really believe you will lose no credit by your prediction.' His great merit met with a suitable reward. He was honoured, six different times, with the thanks of the house of commons, was created a duke, had a pension of five thousand pounds a year settled upon him out of the postoffice revenue, and was presented with the manor of Woodstock and the hundred of Wotton, where the queen caused to be erected for him a noble editice, called Blenheim-house, in memory of the victory which he had gained at that place. He was likewise created a prince of the empire, by the title of Prince of Mildenheim, in the province of Swabia. His prudence and moderation were equal to his other great qualities. For when, upon the change of the ministry in 1710, he found his interest at court considerably diminished, or rather totally annihilated, he still continued to serve bis country in his military capacity; and when stripped of his command about two years after, and even cruelly and un justly persecuted, instead of embroiling the administration by his personal disputes, he retired into a foreign country, where he remained till the decease of Queen Anne; and returning to Englaud at the accession of King George the First, he was by that prince re-instated in all his former employments. He died June 16, 1722, in the seventy-third year of his age, and was interred with great funeral pomp in Westminster-abbey.

scribe the stature, the behaviour, and aspect of the Duke of Marlborough, I question not but it would fill the reader with more agreeable images, and give him a more delightful entertainment, than what can be found in the following, or any other book.

One cannot, indeed, without offence to yourself, observe, that you excel the rest of mankind in the least, as well as the greatest endowments. Nor were it a circumstance to be mentioned, if the graces and attractions of your person were not the only pre-eminence you have above others, which is left, almost unobserved, by greater writers.

Yet how pleasing would it be to those who shall read the surprising revolutions in your story, to be made acquainted with your ordinary life and deportment! How pleasing would it be to hear, that the same man who carried fire and sword into the countries of all that had opposed the cause of liberty, and struck a terror into the armies of France, had, in the midst of his high station, a behaviour as gentle as is usual in the first steps towards greatness! And if it were possible to express that easy grandeur, which did at once persuade and command, it would appear as clearly to those to come, as it does to his contemporaries, that all the great

events which were brought to pass under the conduct of so well-governed a spirit, were the blessings of Heaven upon wisdom and valour; and all which seem adverse fell out by divine permission, which

we are not to search into.

You have passed that year of life wherein the most able and fortunate captain, before your time, declared he had lived enough both to nature and to glory; and your Grace may make that reflection with much more justice. He spoke it after he had arrived at empire by an usurpation upon those whom he had enslaved; but the Prince of Mindelheim may rejoice in a sovereignty which was the gift of him whose dominions he had preserved.

MR. SPECTATOR,

I AM very sorry to find by your discourse upon the eye, that you have not thoroughly studied the nature and force of that part of a beauteous face. Had you ever been in love, you would have said ten thousand things, which it seems did not occur to you. Do but reflect upon the nonsense it makes men talk, the flames which it is said to kindle, the transport it raises, the dejection it causes in the bravest men; and if you do believe those things are expressed to an extravagance, yet you will own, that the influence of it is very great, which moves men to that extravagance. Certain it is, that the whole strength of the mind is sometimes seated there; that a kind look imparts all that a year's discourse could give you, in one moment. What matters it what she says to you? “See how she looks," is the language of all who know what love is. When the mind is thus summed up and expressed in a glance, did you never observe a sudden joy arise in the countenance of a lover? Did you never see the attendance of years paid, overpaid in an instant? You a Spectator, and not know that the intelligence of affection is carried on by the eye only; that good-breeding has made the tongue falsify the heart, and act a part of continual constraint, while nature has preserved the eyes to herself, that she may not be disguised, or and say, "I do," with a languishing air, to the misrepresented. The poor bride can give her hand, man she is obliged by cruel parents to take for mercenary reasons, but at the same time she cannot look as if she loved; her eye is full of sorrow, and reluctance sits in a tear, while the offering of a sacrifice is performed in what we call the marriage ceremony. Do you never go to plays? Cannot you distinguish between the eyes of those who go to see, from those who come to be seen? I am a woman turned of thirty, and am on the observation a little; therefore if you, or your correspondent, had consulted me in your discourse on the eye, I could have told you that the eye of Leonora is slily watchful while it looks negligent; she looks round her without the help of the glasses you speak of*, and yet seems to be employed on objects directly before her. This eye is what affects chance-med

Glory established upon the uninterrupted success of honourable designs and actions, is not subject to diminution; nor can any attempts prevail against it, but in the proportion which the narrow circnitley, and on a sudden, as if it attended to another of rumour bears to the unlimited extent of fame.

We may congratulate your Grace not only upon your high achievements, but likewise upon the happy expiration of your command, by which your glory is put out of the power of fortune: and when your person shall be so too, that the Author | and Disposer of all things may place you in that higher mansion of bliss and immortality which is prepared for good princes, law-givers, and heroes,

when he in his due time removes them from the envy of mankind, is the hearty prayer of,

MY LORD,

Your Grace's most obedient,

Most devoted humble servant,
THE SPECTATOR.

thing, turns all its charms against an ogler. The eye of Lusitania is an instrument of premeditated murder; but the design being visible, destroys the execution of it; and with much more beauty than that of Leonora, it is not half so mischievous. There is a brave soldier's daughter in town, that by her eye has been the death of more than ever her father made fly before him. A beautiful eye makes silence eloquent, a kind eye makes contradiction an assent, an enraged eye makes beauty deformed. This little member gives life to every other part about us, and I believe the story of Argus implies no more, than that the eye is in every part; that is to say, every other part would be mutilated, were not its force represented more by the eye, than even by itself. But this is heathen Greek to those who have not conversed by glances. This,