it. Mr. Heedless replied, that what he had done was out of kindness to the prosecutor, as not thinking it proper for him to appear at the head of the trained bands with a feather upon hiş shoulder; and further added, that the stick he had made use of on this occasion was so very small, that the prosecutor could not have felt it, had he broken it on his shoulders. The censor hereupon directed the jury to examine into the nature of the staff, for that a great deal would depend upon that particular. Upon which he explained to them the different degrees of offence that might be given by the touch of a crab-tree from that of a cane, and by the touch of a cane from that of a plain hazel stick. The jury, after a short perusal of the staff, declared their opinion, by the mouth of their foreman, that the substance of the staff was British oak. The censor then observing that there was some dust on the skirts of the criminal's coat, ordered the prosecutor to beat it off with the aforesaid oaken plant; " And thus," said the censor, "I shall decide this by the law of retaliation if Mr. Heedless did the Colonel a good office, the Colonel will by this means return it in kind; and if Mr. Heedless should at any time boast that he had cudgelled the Colonel, or laid his staff over his shoulders, the Colonel might boast, in his turn, that he has brushed Mr. Heedless's jacket, or (to use the phrase of an ingenious author) that he had rubbed him down with an oaken towel." Benjamin Busy, of London, merchant, was indicted by Jasper Tattle, Esq., for having pulled out his watch, and looked upon it thrice, while the said Esquire Tattle was giving him an account of the funeral of the said Esquire Tattle's first wife. The prisoner alleged in his defence, that he was going to buy stocks at the time when he met the prosecutor; and that, during the story of the prosecutor, the said stocks rose above two per cent. to the great detriment of the prisoner. The prisoner further brought several witnesses, that the said Jasper Tattle, Esq. was a most notorious story-teller; that before he met the prisoner, he had hindered one of the prisoner's acquaintance from the pursuit of his lawful business, with the account of his second marriage; and that he had detained another by the button of his coat that very morning, till he had heard several witty sayings and contrivances of the prosecutor's eldest son, who was a boy of about five years of age. Upon the whole matter, Mr. Bickerstaffe dismissed the accusation as frivolous, and sentenced the prosecutor to pay damages to the prisoner for what the prisoner had lost by giving him so long and patient a hearing. He further reprimanded the prosecutor very severely, and told him, "That if he proceeded in his usual manner to interrupt the business of mankind, he would set a fine upon him for every quarter of an hour's impertinence, and regulate the said fine according as the time of the person so injured should appear to be more or less precious." Sir Paul Swash, Kt., was indicted by Peter Double, Gent., for not returning the bow which he received of the said Peter Double, on Wednesday, the 6th instant, at the Playhouse, in the Hay-Market. The prisoner denied the receipt of any such bow, and alleged in his defence, that the prosecutor would oftentimes look full in his face, but that when he bowed to the said prosecutor, he would take no notice of it, or bow to somebody else that sat quite on the other side of him. He likewise alleged, that several ladies had complained of the prosecutor, who, after ogling them a quarter of an hour, upon their making a courtesy to him, would not return the civility of a bow. The censor observing several glances of the prosecutor's eye, and perceiving that, when he talked to the court, he looked upon the jury, found reason to suspect that there was a wrong cast in his sight, which, upon examination, proved true. The censor therefore ordered the prisoner (that he might not produce any more confusions in public assemblies) never to bow to anybody whom he did not at the same time call to by his name. Oliver Bluff and Benjamin Browbeat were indicted for going to fight a duel since the erection of the Court of Honor. It appeared that they were both taken up in the street, as they passed by the court, in their way to the fields behind Montague House. The criminals would answer nothing for themselves, but that they were going to execute a challenge which had been made above a week before the Court of Honor was erected. The censor finding some reasons to suspect (by the sturdiness of their behavior) that they were not so very brave as they would have the court believe them, ordered them both to be searched by the grand jury, who found a breastplate upon the one, and two quires of paper upon the other. The breastplate was immediately ordered to be hung upon a peg over Mr. Bickerstaffe's tribunal, and the paper to be laid upon the table for the use of his clerk. He then ordered the criminals to button up their bosoms, and, if they pleased, proceed to their duel. Upon which they both went very quietly out of the court, and retired to their respective lodgings. The court then adjourned till after the holi days. No. VII. Copia Vera. CHARLES LILlie. EXTRACTS FROM THE SPECTATOR. I HAVE elsewhere (ante, p. 163) spoken in brief terms of the grief of Mr. Thornhill after he slew Sir Cholmeley Dering, in 1711. Addison, in No. 84 of the Spectator, relates the sorrows of the unhappy survivor, under the assumed name of Spinamont; and in No. 97 of the same work we have a continuation of his views on the subject of duelling generally. Both papers are inserted entire, as containing remarks as true now as in the early part of the last century, whether as relates to individuals borne down and faint under the "inconsolable calamity" of success with the pistol, or to "the force of a tyrant custom" under which "the duellist kills his friend whom he loves." No. 84. Wednesday, June 6, 1711. Quis talia fando Myrmidonum, Dolopumve, aut duri miles Ulyssei, Who can such woes relate without a tear, Looking over the old manuscript wherein the private actions of Pharamond are set down by way of table-book, I found many things which gave me great delight, and as human life turns upon the same principles and passions in all ages, I thought it very proper to take minutes of what passed in that age for the instruction of this. The antiquary who lent me these papers gave me a character of Eucrate, the favorite of Pharamond, extracted from an author who lived in that court. The account he gives both of the prince and this his faithful friend will not be improper to insert here, because I may have occasion to mention many of their conversations, into which these memorials of them may give light. "Pharamond, when he had a mind to retire for an hour or two from the hurry of business and fatigue of ceremony, made a signal to Eucrate, by putting his hand to his face, placing his arm negligently on a window, or some such action as appeared indifferent to all the rest of the company. Upon such notice, unobserved by others, (for their entire intimacy was always a secret,) Eucrate repaired to his own apartment to receive the king. There was a secret access to this part of the court, at which Eucrate used to admit many whose mean appearance in the eyes of the ordinary waiters and door-keepers made them be repulsed from other parts of the palace. Such as these were let in here by order of Eucrate, and had audiences of Pharamond. This entrance Pharamond called The Gate of the Unhappy,' and the tears of the afflicted who came before him, he would say, were bribes received by Eucrate; for Eucrate had the most compassionate spirit of all men living, except his generous master, who was always kindled at the least affliction which was communicated to him. In regard for the miserable, Eucrate took particular care that the common forms of distress, and the idle pretenders to sorrow, about courts, who wanted only supplies to luxury, should never obtain favor by his means; but the distresses which arise from the many inexplicable occurrences that happen among men, the unaccountable alienation of parents from their children, cruelty of husbands to wives, poverty occasioned from shipwreck or fire, the falling out of friends, or such other terrible disasters to which the life of man is exposed; in cases of this nature, Eucrate was the patron; and enjoyed this part of the royal favor so much without being envied, that it was never inquired into by whose means what no one else cared for doing was brought about. 6 "One evening when Pharamond came into the apartment of Eucrate, he found him extremely dejected; upon which he asked, (with a smile that was natural to him,) What, is there any one too miserable to be relieved by Pharamond, that Eucrate is melancholy?' 'I fear there is,' answered the favorite, a person without, of a good air, well dressed, and though a man in the strength of his life, seems to faint under some inconsolable calamity. All his features seem suffused with agony of mind; but I can observe in him that it is more inclined to break away in tears than rage. I asked him what he would have. He said he would speak to Pharamond. I desired his business. He could hardly say to me," Eucrate, carry me to the king; my story is not to be told twice,-I fear I shall not be able to speak it at all." Pharamond commanded Eucrate to let him enter; he did so, and the gentleman approached the king with an air which spoke him under the greatest concern in what manner to demean himself. The king, who had a quick discerning, relieved him from the oppression he was under, and, with the most beautiful complacency, said to him, "Sir, do not add to that load of sorrow I see in your countenance the awe of my presence. Think you are speaking to your friend. If the circumstances of your distress will admit of it, you shall find me so." To whom the stranger: "O excellent Pharamond, name not a friend to the unfortunate Spinamont. I had one, but he is dead by my own hand; but, O Pharamond, though it was by the hand of Spinamont, it was by the guilt of Pharamond. I come not, O excellent prince, to implore your pardon; I come to relate my sorrow, a sorrow too great for human life to support; from henceforth shall all occurrences appear dreams, or short intervals of amusement, for this one affliction which has seized my very being. Pardon me, O Pharamond, if my griefs give me leave, that I lay before you in the anguish of a wounded mind, that you, good as you are, are guilty of the generous blood spilt this day by this unhappy hand. O that it had perished before that instant! Here the stranger paused, and, recollecting his mind, after some little meditation, he went on in a calmer tone and gesture as follows: "There is an authority due to distress, and as none of human race is above the reach of sorrow, none should be above the hearing the voice of it; I am sure Pharamond is not. Know, then, that I have this morning unfortunately killed in a duel the man whom of all men living I most loved. I command myself too much in your royal presence, to say, Pharamond gave me my friend! Pharamond has taken him from me! I will not say, Shall the merciful Pharamond destroy his own subjects? Will the father of his country murder his people? But the merciful Pharamond does destroy his subjects, the father of his country does murder his people. Fortune is so much the pursuit of mankind, that all glory and honor is in the power of a prince, because he has the distribution of their fortunes. It is therefore the inadvertency, negligence, or guilt of princes to let anything grow into custom which is against their laws. A court can make fashion and duty walk together; it can never, without the guilt of a court, happen that it shall not be unfashionable to do what is unlawful. But, alas! in the dominions of Pharamond, by the force of a tyrant custom, which is misnamed a point of honor, the duellist kills his friend whom he loves; and the judge condemns the duellist while he approves his behavior. Shame is |