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A36896
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The art of living incognito being a thousand letters on as many uncommon subjects / written by John Dunton during his retreat from the world, and sent to that honourable lady to whom he address'd his conversation in Ireland ; with her answer to each letter.
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Dunton, John, 1659-1733.
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1700
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Wing D2620; ESTC R16692
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162,473
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158
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opinion or they 'd never study to conceal themselves We see even Ambassadors that represent the Persons of Kings d'spatch their affairs Incognito Nay Emperors themselves think it makes 'em greater sometimes to appear unknown The Great Czar of Muscovy first appeared in England in that manner scarce a Gazet but tells of sâ—e Prince arriv'd Incognito The Savoy Ambassador arriv'd so â—sterday King Henry the Second after his return frâ— Conquering Ireland both out of fondness and for securing 〈◊〉 Succession he caus'd his Eldest Son Henry and his Wife Margaret Daughter of the French King to be solemnly Crown'd in his presence at two several times in the last of which he for that Day liv'd Incognito I mean for that Day he conceal'd his being King of England by waiting as a Servant upon his Son while he sate at the Table which young Henry did litle regard boasting That his Father did not hereby dishonâ—ur himself since he was only the Son of an Empress whereas himself was Son both of a King and Queen which Proud Speech mightily displeas'd his Father who thought he had done his Son no small Honour by waiting on him as a King Incognito The Story of King Iames the First Riding to his Nobles behind a Miller who took him for a poor Farmer is sufficiently known Neither was Charles the 2d less frequent in these Adventures How often drest in a mean habit wou'd he straggle to a poor Cottage to inquire if the owner ever saw the King and what he thought of his Goverment Madam I suppose you have heard how his winding up the Iack in a dirty Frock saved his Life and those that consider his preservation in an Oaken Tree will own there is if in any thing An Art in living Incognito And therefore I am so far from envying even Kings and Princes in their Pomp and Grandeur that I pity 'em as Royal Slaves or as Men that are never easy but when now and then they retreat from the World and conceal themselves for a Glimps of Happiness So that I 'm much happier in my present obscurity than he that sits on a Throne or that 's galloping after the World for these have scarce an hour they can call their own and that hour is fill'd with cares But Nothing looks in my Retreat Discontented or Unsweet True 't is Private and you know Love and Friendship shou'd be so Solitude dissolves the Mind Makes it pleasant free and kind But the Pleasures you have known I mean those in London Town These Sabina you 'll Confess Fears and Dangers make 'em less Crouds Diseases Feuds and Noise Render 'em imperfect Joys But in Shades and Silence given Ev'ry Extacy is Heaven Whoever in this Retreat sees my Rural Pipe my Shady Grove Hedge of Hony-Suckles Fruitful Garden Hive of Bees and little-Cell with my Contempt of Honours Riches Pleasures c. will own 't is impossible I shou'd be Happier except in Heaven or in the Company of a kind Wife and that my Retreat might want no Perfection Nature makes Arbours here and ev'ry Tree Disposes all it's Boughs to favour me Here warbling Birds in Airy Raptures Sing Their glad Pindaricks to the welcome Spring The Valleys too here Eccho's do repeat Here gentle Winds do moderate Summers Heat Clear is the Air and Verdant is the Grass My Couch of Flowers the Streams my Looking-Glass If you ask me how I spend my time in a Place where I 'm seldom seen and scarce known to a Dog or a Cat I answer I begin the rising Day with Prayer and spend the rest of the time either in writing tee ye or reading the Port Royal the Book you so 〈◊〉 commend when I 'm weary with this Exercise for a little Change I walk to St. Vincent's Rocks here I sit for an Hour or so blessing my self that I 'm clear of London having left Honour to Mad-Men and Riches to Knaves and Fools I fall to laughing at both But if I happen to be griev'd at any thing for Iris and Daphne can ne're be forgot I tune my Distresses to the Widow'd Turtle and she Records my Woes with her own or if this fails to give me relief I call to some Kind Eccho to help me to grieve the faster or if I find no comfort in Tears I need but think of you and then be my sorrows what they will I sit like Patience smiling at Grief and fancy I am still Happy So that if I live Incognito and have but the use of my thoughts I can ne're be wretched I 'm sure I reap more pleasure in my Retreat from the World than the French Ladies do in the Streets of Paris Or if it happens that I am weary of being alone if he can be so that enjoys himself 't is but Riding a Mile or two or at furthest to Southborrow-Grove and I 'm strait in the Meadows 'mongst wholsom Girls making of Hay and that 's enjoyment enough for one that 's afraid of Peticoats When I 'm tir'd with these sights Itye my Horse to a Tree and take a Nap under the Shade of it and when the Cuckcoo awakes me if I 'm thirsty For wholesom Drink I don't go far to look Each Spring 's my Tap my Barrel is each Brook Where I do quaff and too 't again by fits And yet Dear Madam never hurt my Witts For why 't is Beer of Grandam Natures Brewing And very seldom sets her guests a Spewing To which sweet Bubb I 'm kindly welcom still Good Entertainment tho' the Cheer were Ill. In this manner do I spend my Solitude and If I ben't wanting to my self thus living Incognito might soon sit me for Heaven for those Stars which have least Circuit are nearest the Pole and Men who are least perplexed with Business are commonly nearest to God which sufficiently recommends a Life of retirement Besides this to live Incognito is to follow the Example both of learned and Great Men. Lotharius the Emperor resign'd his Crown and spent the remainder of his Life in a Solitary place This way of living is so much esteemed by the Witts that we find the Gardens of Adonis Alcinous Hesperides were Subjects for the finest Poets The Pleasure Lucanus had in this World was nothing else but a little Garden and when he dyed he commanded his Grave to be made in it and Dioclesian left his Empire to turn Gardiner Even the Poet Cowley a As I hinted in my Conversation in Ireland p. 365 that had known what Cities Universities and Courts cou'd afford broke through all the Intanglements of it and which was harder a vast Praise and retired to a Solitary Cottage near Barn Elms where his Garden was his Pleasure and he his own Gardiner Timon of Athens was so given to solitariness that he hated the company of all Men and therefore was call'd Misanthropos he used and employed all his skill to perswade his Country-men to shorten their Lives having set up Gibbets in a Field
in Blood on the Quarter-Deck and never thought Serenade to his Mistress so charming as the Bullets Whistling how he stopt a Man of War of the Enemies under full Sail till she was boarded with his Single Arm instead of Grapling Irons and then concludes with railing at the Conduct of some Great Officers which he never heard of till last Week and protests had they taken his Advice not a Soul had ' scap'd ' em He has no sooner done but another begins Remarks upon the London Gazette and here he nick-names the Spanish Towns c. and enquires whether Madrid and Barcelona be Turks or Saracens Stilo Novo he interprets some Warlike Engin invented by the Duke of Savoy to confound Catinat and for Hungary c he believes it to be a place where people are ready to starve Neither is any thing more common than to see one of these News Hunters spend half an hour in searching the Map for Counterscarp and Brigadeer not doubting but to find them there as well as Venice Rome and Amsterdam c. Another relates t' ye all the Counsels of the French Court the German Diet the Roman Conclave and those of Portugal Spain and China are as well known to him as his right hand and this Gibberish is list'ned to with as great attention as Orpheus's Beasts did to his charming Musick Then a Fourth stands up and he pretending to be a Traveller tells the Company That in his late Voyage to Ophir tho no body knows where 't is the Master of his Vessel fill'd his Ship with 300 Tun of Gold in one night This tickles the Auditors so on he goes to tell 'em that from thence he went to the Iubilee from whence after Kissing the Pope's Toe he went to Venice to see the Carnival and here he met with the Harlot Tom-Coryat a Tom-Coryat gives a Pleasant Character of her in his Book he entitles Crudities marry'd lay with her one Night and Swares he thinks her a very demure peice of Impudence Being weary of Italy Perhaps he tells us in the next Place he Travel'd to the Indies I have a Brother there I hope he did not meet him where he view'd the Chambers of the Rising Sun learnt the number of his Horses and their several Names His Eyes being not yet satisfied he Rambles next to Persia where he shook Hands with the Great Mogul Prester Iohn and lay 3 Nights with the King of Bantam From thence being resolv'd to out-Ramble Drake he took Shipping for the Holy Land but that being now overgrown with Superstition he staid there but two Nights and then Embark'd for New England where he fairly kiss'd an Indian Queen a mighty matter and so did I in the year 86 and din'd with 200 Sachems At length a As is hinted in my American Rambles which I 'll Publish when I return for London being quite tyr'd he Embarqu'd for England but took Tartary in his way home where he got a Hair from the Great Chams Beard and to Convince ye Gentlemen all this is no Lye here ' t is The Traveller having told 'em all that he saw and a great deal more an Old Beef Eater falls to rubbing their Itching Ears He pretends to discover all the Secrets of the Cabinet Counsel He knows all the affairs of White-Hall to a Cows-Thumb and which is a thing I never minded which Lady is Painted and which not Before his Discourse is ended perhaps comes in a Fresh News-Hunter Begins Gentlemen have you heard any thing of a strange Whale now at Greenwich Have any of ye seen the Great â—zar of Muscovy who they say is Landed Incognito Or which of ye have seen the Second Sampson that carrys 20 Hundred weight on his Shoulders out draws all the Horses in Town and will Snap a sunder a Cable Rope as if 't were Sewing-Thread If these Queries are slighted his next words are What do ye think Gentlemen of the New Design or an Act of Parliament to make Usurers Charitable and Misses forsake their Gallants By this time an Old-Toast that had been fast asleep with his Hat over his Face For there 's a always some shame in being Burden'd with an useless Knowledge Moral Essays Vol. 2. p. 178. a wakes and having 500 Inventions dancing in his Noddle resolves he won't be out-lyed so tells 'em their News is nothing to his He has an Advice-Boat on the Stocks that shall go to Riga and come back again in Three Hours A Trick to march under Water by which hee 'll Sink all the French Fleet as it lies at Anchor and which Gentlemen is beyond this I 've just now found a way to catch Sun Beams for making the Ladys New Fashion'd Towers that Poets may no more be Damn'd for telling Lyes about their Curles and Tresses Thus Madam you see there is nothing New at the Coffee-House and I shall prove anon nor any where else and what stuff that is which they tell for Nâ—ws Men come to Coffee-houses purely to vent their strange and wild Conceits and an Opinion how Foolish or fond soever here receives Entertainment You 'll believe this when I tell your Ladyship that in the time of Monmouths Invasion I stept to a Coffee-House where I found several asking for News Gentlemen said I I can tell you what 's very Surprising Come let 's have it said one Nay tell it said another Why 't is this The West is strangely Victorious and I am told but an hour ago The Duke of Monmouth is to be made Prince George Oh strange said one 'T is no more than I expected said another Nay said a third I did not doubt but he 'd be our Deliverer And to add to the Jest 't is no New Thing to the West Countreymen to say the Duke of Monmouth is yet alive One wou'd ha' thought this Report That the Duke of Monmouth was to be made Prince George had been News for tho Dr. Burnet tells us of †In his Travels to Italy p. 246. Two Nuns being changed into Men yet I never before heard of one Man's being transform'd to another Tho had it been true it had been no News for I doubt not but those skill'd in Natural History can give Instances of it But this was a Fable and the Moral to it is this That there is no News nor New Thing and that the News we so Itch after is nothing but Satan's Policy to abuse our Ears in hearing our Tongues in speaking and our Hearts in believing Lies to disable us from discerning the Truth So much for News in Prose and King Iames the First said he 'd never believe any News in Verse since the hearing * See his Apothegms p. 14. of a Ballad made of the Bp. of Spalata touching his being a Martyr c. But perhaps you 'll say Tho the Coffee house Weekly Papers and Mens Humors have nothing New yet search further and you 'll find Novelties What think ye of the