The Baroque Cycle - The System Of The World Part 3

"Think of it as the Royal Africa Company, risen from the ashes. Just as the capital stock of the Bank of England is the East India Company, that of the South Sea Company is the Asiento."

"Even I know that this word Asiento is linked somehow to the Peace, but I've been terribly distracted-"

"We could not win the war-could not dislodge the grandson of Louis XIV from the Throne of Spain-but we did extract certain concessions from him. One of which was the entire right of shipping slaves from Africa to the New World. Mr. Harley, our Lord Treasurer, made arrangements for this Asiento to become an a.s.set, as it were, of the South Sea Company."

"How splendid."

"As the commerce of America grows, so the demand for slaves from Africa will grow apace with it, and so there can be no sounder investment than the Asiento, no surer foundation for a bank, for a fortune-"

"Or for a political party," Daniel said.

Mr. Threader raised his eyebrows. Then they pa.s.sed by another vault-wagon, forcing them to keep their mouths, and even their eyes, closed for a few moments.

Mr. Threader recovered quicker, and said: "Steam, on the other hand, sir, I would hold in very low on the other hand, sir, I would hold in very low esteem, esteem, if you'll indulge me in a spot of word-play." if you'll indulge me in a spot of word-play."

"It is lamentably late in this journey, and this conversation, sir, for you to be divulging this to me."

"Divulging what, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"That you think the Earl of Lostwithiel is launching a mad enterprise, and that you believe your clients should put their money, rather, into the Asiento."

"I shall put their money where they have directed me to put it. But I cannot help observing, that the nearly limitless coast of Africa is crowded with slaves, driven out from the interior by their more ferocious cousins, and virtually free for the picking. If I wish to pump water from a Cornish tin-mine, Dr. Waterhouse, I need not pay Mr. Newcomen to erect a frightful Engine; now that we have the Asiento, I need only send a ship southwards, and in a few weeks' time I shall have all the slaves I need, to pump the water out by stepping on tread-mills, or, if I prefer, to suck it out through hollow straws and spit it into the sea."

"Englishmen are not used to seeing their mines and pastures crowded with Blackamoors toiling under the lash," Daniel remarked.

"Whereas, steam-engines steam-engines are a are a familiar sight familiar sight!?" asked Mr. Threader triumphantly.

Daniel was overcome with tiredness and hunger, and leaned his head back with a sough, feeling that only a miracle could get him out of this conversation whole. At the same moment, they arrived at the Fleet Bridge. They turned right and began back-tracking westwards, since the driver had over-shot their destination. Daniel, who, as always, had a view out the rear window of the vehicle, was confronted suddenly by the astonishing sight of a colossal stone egg rising up out of the street less than half a mile away, reigning over the low buildings of London like a Khan over a million serfs. This was by a wide margin the largest building Daniel had ever seen, and something about it replenished his energies.

"Nothing about the English landscape is forever fixed. Just as you have probably grown used to the presence of that Dome," Daniel said, nodding down Fleet to St. Paul's, and obliging Mr. Threader to turn around and rediscover it, "we might grow accustomed to mult.i.tudes of black slaves, or steam-engines, or both. I speculate that the character character of England is more constant. And I flatter us by a.s.serting, furthermore, that of England is more constant. And I flatter us by a.s.serting, furthermore, that ingenuity ingenuity is a more essential element of that character than is a more essential element of that character than cruelty cruelty. Steam-engines, being a product of the former virtue, are easier to reconcile with the English scene than slavery, which is a product of the latter vice. Accordingly, if I had money to bet, I'd bet it on steam-engines."

"But slaves work work and steam-engines and steam-engines don't don't!"

"But slaves can stop stop working. Steam-engines, once Mr. Newcomen has got them going, can never stop, because unlike slaves, they do not have free will." working. Steam-engines, once Mr. Newcomen has got them going, can never stop, because unlike slaves, they do not have free will."

"But how is an ordinary investor to match your level of confidence, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"By looking at that, that," Daniel answered, nodding at St. Paul's, "and noting that it does not fall down. Go and examine its arches, Mr. Threader, and you will see that they are in the shape of parabolas. Sir Christopher Wren made them thus, on the advice of Hooke; for Hooke shewed that it should be so."

"You have quite wandered away from me. It is an excellent church. I see no connection to steam-engines."

"Both church-domes and engines are subject to physical laws, which are, in turn, amenable to mathematickal calculations; and we know the laws," Daniel announced. "It is at least as well-founded as what you do for a living."

They had come to a halt before the mouse-hole in the north side of Fleet Street that led to Crane Court. The driver maneuvered his team into it, giving directions to the other drivers that the baggage-cart alone should follow; the remainder of the train, consisting by this point of two large carriages and a second baggage-wain, were to remain in Fleet Street, and to get themselves turned around and aimed in the direction of Ludgate.

Getting the horses, their tack, and the carriage to pa.s.s through that archway was a bit like funneling a model ship, rigging a-luff, through the neck of a jug. At one point they drew to a full stop and Daniel, glancing out a side-window, found himself within kissing range of a pedestrian-gawky, post-smallpox, perhaps thirty years of age-whose advance down Fleet Street had been barred by all of Mr. Threader's maneuvers. This fellow, who affected a ratty horse-hair wig, and who carried a smoky lanthorn in one hand and a staff in the other, peered in on them with frank curiosity that Mr. Threader found unseemly. "Go to, go to, sirrah, we are no concern of the Watch!"

The carriage moved forward into the narrow cul-de-sac of Crane Court.

"One of the Royal Society's new neighbors?" Daniel asked.

"That watchman? No, I should think not!"

"Each inhabitant is supposed to take his turn on the Watch," Daniel said pedantically, "and so I a.s.sumed..."

"That was twenty years ago when the Act was pa.s.sed," Mr. Threader returned, sorrowful over Daniel's naivete. "It has become the practice for householders to pool a bit of money and pay some fellow-usually some caitiff from Southwark-to do the ch.o.r.e in their stead. As you encountered him this evening, so shall you every every evening, unless you have the good fortune to pa.s.s by while he is in Pub." evening, unless you have the good fortune to pa.s.s by while he is in Pub."

Still they were making their way, tentatively, down Crane Court. Once they had squeezed through the entrance, it had broadened slightly, to the point where two oncoming carriages might sc.r.a.pe past each other.

"I rather thought we should be leaving you off at the home of some distinguished Fellow," said the bemused Mr. Threader. "I say, you're not on the outs with them, are you?" he jested, trying to terminate their journey on a jolly note.

I shall be soon enough. "I have several invitations in my pocket, and mean to spend them methodically-" "I have several invitations in my pocket, and mean to spend them methodically-"

"Like a miser with his coins!" said Mr. Threader, still trying to haul Daniel up to the level of joviality that he considered suitable upon parting; perhaps this meant he wanted to see Daniel again.

"Or a soldier with his pouch of b.a.l.l.s," Daniel returned.

"You may add one more!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Invitation! You must come and lodge with me for a few days, Dr. Waterhouse; I shall take it as an affront if you do not."

Before Daniel could think of a polite way to beg off, the carriage came to a stop, and at the same moment the door was pulled open by a fellow Daniel a.s.sumed was a porter, albeit over-dressed for the job in his Sunday church-going togs. He was not a porter of the gorilla type, but rather tall, of reasonably normal proportions, perhaps forty-five years old, clean-shaven, almost gentlemanly.

"It is I," Daniel volunteered, as this man could not seem to decide which of the two pa.s.sengers was the honored guest.

"Welcome to Crane Court, Dr. Waterhouse," said the porter, sincerely but coolly, speaking in a French accent. "I am Henry Arlanc, at your service."

"A Huguenot," muttered Mr. Threader as Henry Arlanc helped Daniel down onto the pavement.

Daniel glanced at the front of the house that formed the end of the court, but it looked just like the engravings, which was to say, very plain and simple. He turned to look back towards Fleet Street. His view was blocked by the baggage-cart, which had taken longer to negotiate the entrance, and was still fifty feet away, lumbering towards them. "Merci," "Merci," said Mr. Threader as Arlanc helped him out. said Mr. Threader as Arlanc helped him out.

Daniel moved over to one side so that he could peer between the baggage-cart and the line of house-fronts running down to Fleet. His night vision was not what it had once been, but he thought he could see the glimmer of the inquisitive watchman's lanthorn limning the arch, perhaps three hundred feet away. He was bothering someone else now, someone in a sedan chair.

The luggage wagon suddenly got much larger, as if a giant bladder had been inflated to fill the entire width of the court. Daniel had scarcely registered that impression, when it became a source of light. Then it seemed a radiant yellow fist was punching at Daniel through a curtain of iron-colored smoke. The punch was pulled long before it reached him, and collapsed and paled into an ashy cloud. But he had felt its heat on his face, and things had flown out of it and struck him. Crane Court was now enlivened by the music of faery-bells as golden coins sought out resting-places on the paving-stones, and fell in twirling parabolas onto the roof-tiles. Some of them must have been flung straight up in the air for great distances because they continued to land hard and to bounce high for several seconds after Daniel had found his own resting-place: on his a.r.s.e in the street. The court had been blocked off by a wall of smoke which now advanced to surround him; he could not see his own feet. But he could smell the smoke; it was sulfurous, unmistakenly the product of the combustion of gunpowder. Mixed in with that was a sharper chymical scent that Daniel probably could have identified if he had sniffed it in a laboratory; as it was, he had distractions.

People were calling names, including his. "I am all right," Daniel announced, but it sounded as if his fingers were in his ears. He got to his feet, spry as a twenty-year-old, and began working his way down the court in the direction of Fleet Street. The air was clearer nearer the ground, and he ended up walking bent nearly double, tracking his progress by the pa.s.sage of sprayed coins and other detritus under his feet. There was a kind of snow fluttering through the smoke as well: racc.o.o.n fur.

"Watchman!" Daniel shouted, "can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir! The Marching Watch has been sent for!"

"I do not care about the Marching Watch, they are too late! I want that you should follow that sedan chair, and tell me where it goes!"

No answer came back.

Mr. Threader's voice came out of the smoke, just a few yards away. "Watchman, follow that sedan chair and I shall give you a guinea!"

"Right you are, sir!" returned the watchman.

"...or a guinea's equivalent value in other goods or services, at my discretion, provided that timely and useful information, which would not have been obtainable through other means, is brought to me, and me alone; and note that nothing in this offer shall be construed to create a condition of employment between you and me, particularly where a.s.sumption of liabilities, criminal or civil, is concerned. Did you hear all of that, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"Yes, Mr. Threader."

"It is so witnessed this thirty-first day of January, Year of our Lord 1714." Mr. Threader muttered very rapidly.

In the next breath, he began finally to answer the hails of his a.s.sistants, who had come running up from Fleet Street and were now tramping blindly through the smoke all round, hardly less dangerous than the terrified horses. Having found Mr. Threader and Daniel by nearly running them down, they began asking, repeatedly and redundantly, whether they were all right; which soon became annoying to Daniel, who suspected that they were only doing it to be noticed. He told them to instead go and find the driver of the baggage-cart, who had been airborne when Daniel had lost sight of him.

The smoke was finally beginning to clear; it seemed to be draining, rather than rising, from the court. Mr. Threader approached. "Did anything strike you, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"Not very hard." For the first time it occurred to him to brush himself off. Wood-shards and racc.o.o.n-tufts showered from the folds of his clothing. His finger caught the edge of a coin, which had been made rough as a saw-blade by the violence of its recent career, and this fluttered to the ground and hit with a tinny slap. Daniel bent to examine it. It was not a coin at all. It was a miniature gear. He picked it up. All round him, Mr. Threader's a.s.sistants were in similar postures, s.n.a.t.c.hing guineas off the ashlars like a crew of gleaners. The driver of the baggage-cart was face down, moaning like a drunk as he was tended to by Henry Arlanc and a woman, possibly Arlanc's wife. Someone had had the presence of mind to draw the other baggage-cart across the entrance of Crane Court so that the Marching Watch-when and if they arrived-would not simply march in watching for stray coins.

"At the risk of being one of those bores bores who will only venture to state facts after they have become perfectly obvious to all," said Mr. Threader, "I guess that my baggage-cart has just been Blown Up." who will only venture to state facts after they have become perfectly obvious to all," said Mr. Threader, "I guess that my baggage-cart has just been Blown Up."

Daniel flipped the gear over in his palm several times, then put it in his pocket. "Without a doubt, your hypothesis pa.s.ses the test that we call, Ockham's Razor."

Mr. Threader was strangely merry. For that matter, even Daniel, who had been in a sour mood all day from fasting, was feeling a bit giddy. He saw Henry Arlanc approaching, wiping traces of blood from his hands, his face blackened. "Mr. Arlanc, if you are all right, would you be so good as to fetch a broom, and sweep my things in-doors?"

This actually produced a guffaw from Mr. Threader. "Dr. Waterhouse! If I may speak frankly, I had been concerned that your c.o.o.nskins would leave you open to ridicule from London's a la mode a la mode. But in the end, the Garment in Question was not even suffered to pa.s.s the city gates."

"It must have been done by someone very young," Daniel guessed.

"Why do you suppose so, sir?"

"I have never seen you happier, Mr. Threader! Only a fellow who had lived through very little would imagine that a gentleman of your age and experience would find this sort of thing impressive."

This hammered a bung into Mr. Threader's barrel of chuckles, and straightened him right up for several moments. In time he worked his way back to merry, but only after perilous detours through confused, astonished, and outraged. "I was about to make a similar remark directed at you you!" He was less shocked by the explosion than by Daniel's imputation that it had anything to do with him him. Another cycle of bewilderment and stifled anger swirled round his face. Daniel observed with some fascination; Mr. Threader had facial features after all, plenty of them.

In the end, all Mr. Threader could do was laugh. "I was going to express my outrage, outrage, Dr. Waterhouse, that you imagined this had anything to do with Dr. Waterhouse, that you imagined this had anything to do with me; me; but I bated. I cannot throw stones, since I have been guilty, but I bated. I cannot throw stones, since I have been guilty, mutatis mutandis, mutatis mutandis, of the identical sin." of the identical sin."

"You thought it was for me me!? But no one knew I was coming," Daniel said. But he said it weakly, for he had just remembered the pirates in Cape Cod Bay, and how Edward Teach, literally smouldering on the p.o.o.p deck of Queen Anne's Revenge, Queen Anne's Revenge, had asked for him by name. had asked for him by name.

"No one, save the entire crew of the ship that put you ash.o.r.e at Plymouth-for she must have reached London by now."

"But no one knew how how I was coming to London." I was coming to London."

"No one, save the Court of Directors, and most of the Investors, of the Proprietors of the Engine for Raising Water by Fire! Not to mention your Backer." Mr. Threader then got a bright look on his face and said, "Perhaps they were not trying to affright affright you, but simply to you, but simply to kill kill you!" you!"

"Or you, you," Daniel returned.

"Are you a wagering man, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"I was brought up to loathe it. But my return to London is proof that I am a fallen man."

"Ten guineas."

"On the ident.i.ty of the intended victim?"

"Just so. What say you, Dr. Waterhouse?"

"As my life is already staked, 'twere false oeconomy to quibble over ten guineas. Done."

Crane Court EARLY FEBRUARY 1714.

But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all his days so much in the dark?-JOHN BUNYAN, The Pilgrim's Progress The Pilgrim's Progress DANIEL'S FIRST FORTNIGHT at the Royal Society was not equal, in excitement or glamour, to that fiery Spectacle that had heralded his arrival. In the minutes after the blast, excitement born of fear had made him feel half a century younger. But the next morning, he woke in his little guest-garret to discover that the thrill had vanished as quickly as the smoke of the blast; while the fear persisted as stubbornly as the carbon-black scorches it had sprayed on the pavement. Aches and pains had appeared in every part of him, as if all the shocks and insults he had suffered since Enoch Root had walked into his Inst.i.tute some four months ago, had not been registered at once by his body, but had been marked down in a credit-ledger which had now come due, all at once, and with usurous interest. at the Royal Society was not equal, in excitement or glamour, to that fiery Spectacle that had heralded his arrival. In the minutes after the blast, excitement born of fear had made him feel half a century younger. But the next morning, he woke in his little guest-garret to discover that the thrill had vanished as quickly as the smoke of the blast; while the fear persisted as stubbornly as the carbon-black scorches it had sprayed on the pavement. Aches and pains had appeared in every part of him, as if all the shocks and insults he had suffered since Enoch Root had walked into his Inst.i.tute some four months ago, had not been registered at once by his body, but had been marked down in a credit-ledger which had now come due, all at once, and with usurous interest.

Much more debilitating was a melancholy that settled over his spirit, and took away his desire to eat, to get out of bed, or even to read. He only stirred at odd intervals when the melancholy condensed into a raw, beastly fear that set his heart thumping and caused all the blood to drop out of his head. One morning before dawn he found himself crouching before his tiny window, twitching a linen curtain, peering out at a wagon that had trundled into Crane Court to deliver some sea-coal to a neighboring house, wondering whether the collier and his boys might be disguised murderers.

His own clear awareness that he had gone half mad did nothing to lessen the physical power of his fear, which moved his body with irresistible power, as a sea heaves a swimmer. He got no rest during the two weeks he spent in that garret, despite staying in bed most of the while, and realized only one gain: namely, he arrived at a better understanding of the mentality of Sir Isaac Newton. But that hardly seemed like a reward. It was almost as if he had suffered a stroke, or a blow to the head, that had stolen away his faculty of thinking about the future. He was quite certain that his story had come to an end, that his sudden journey across the Atlantic was a flash in the pan, which had quite failed to ignite the powder in the barrel, and that Princess Caroline would purse her lips, shake her head, and write it all off as a failed investment and a Bad Idea. Really he was no better off during that time than he had been tied to Hooke's chair at Bedlam being cut for the stone. The pain was not as intense, but the mental state was much the same: trapped in the here and now like a dog, and not part of any coherent Story.

He got better on Saint Valentine's Day. The agent that brought about this miraculous cure was as obscure as the cause of the disease itself. It certainly did not originate from the College of Physicians, for Daniel had used what energies he had to keep the doctors and their lancets at bay. It seemed to issue, rather, from a part of town that had not existed when Daniel had been a young man: a place, just up the road from Bedlam, called Grub Street.

Daniel's medicine, in other words, was Newspapers. Mrs. Arlanc (the wife of Henry, an English Dissenter, and the housekeeper of Crane Court) had been faithfully bringing up food, drink, and new-papers. She had told visitors visitors that Dr. Waterhouse was deathly ill, and that Dr. Waterhouse was deathly ill, and physicians physicians that he was doing much better now, and thereby stopped that he was doing much better now, and thereby stopped all all of them from crossing his threshold. At Daniel's request, she refrained from bringing him his mail. of them from crossing his threshold. At Daniel's request, she refrained from bringing him his mail.

Now, most places did not have newspapers, and so, if Mrs. Arlanc had not brought him any, he would never have known that they were wanting. But London had eighteen of them. 'Twas as if the combination in one city of too many printing presses; a b.l.o.o.d.y and perpetual atmosphere of Party Malice; and an infinite supply of coffee; had combined, in some alchemical sense, to engender a monstrous prodigy, an unstanchable wound that bled Ink and would never heal. Daniel, who had grown to maturity in a London where printing presses had to be hidden in hay-wagons to preserve them from the sledgehammers of the Censor, could not quite believe this at first; but they kept coming, every day. Mrs. Arlanc brought these to him as if it were perfectly normal for a man to read about all London's scandals, duels, catastrophes, and outrages every morning as he spooned up his porridge.

At first Daniel found them intolerable. It was as if the Fleet Ditch were being diverted into his lap for half an hour every day. But once he grew accustomed to them, he began to draw a kind of solace from their very vileness. How self-absorbed for him to cower in bed, for fear of mysterious enemies, here in the center of a metropolis that was to Hostility what Paris was to Taste? To be so unnerved, simply because someone had tried to blow him up in London, was like a sailor in a naval engagement pouting and sulking because one of his fellows had stepped on his toe.

So, inasmuch as it made him feel better, Daniel began to look forward to his daily ink-toilette. Immersion in Bile, a splash of Calumny on the face, and a dab of Slander behind each ear, and he was a new man.

The 14th of February was a Sunday, meaning that before the sun had risen, Mr. and Mrs. Arlanc had embarked on their weekly pilgrimage to a Huguenot meeting-house that lay somewhere out beyond Ratcliff. Daniel awoke to find, next to his door, a bowl of cold porridge resting on an otherwise empty tray. No newspapers! Down he ventured into the lower storeys of the house, scavenging for old ones. Most of the rooms had no reading material whatever, except for d.a.m.ned Natural Philosophy books. But on the ground floor, back in Mrs. Arlanc's kitchen, he found a sheaf of old newspapers preserved as fire-starters. He re-ascended in triumph to his garret and read a few of the more recent numbers while excavating a pit in his congealed porridge.

Of the past week's editions, several actually agreed on something factual. This happened about as often as a Total Eclipse of the Sun, and was just as likely to cause panic in the streets. They agreed that Queen Anne was going to open Parliament tomorrow.

Daniel had been conceiving of this Queen as a caricature of elderliness and frailty. News that this half-embalmed figment was going to clamber out of bed and do something of consequence made Daniel feel ashamed of himself. When the Arlancs returned from church in the late afternoon, and the Mrs. trudged up to the garret to collect the tray and porridge-bowl, Daniel announced that tomorrow he would read his mail, and perhaps even put on clothes and get out of bed.

Mrs. Arlanc, who hid competence beneath a jiggly, henlike facade, smiled at this news; though she had the good manners to keep her lips pressed together so that Daniel would not be exposed to the sight of her teeth. Like most Londoners', these had been well blackened by sugar.

"You chose aptly, sir," she allowed the next morning, backing through the narrow door with a basket of books and papers balanced on her tummy. "Sir Isaac inquired after you for a third time."

"He was here this morning?"

"Is here now," Mrs. Arlanc answered, then paused. The entire house had drawn a tiny, sharp breath as the front door was closed. "Unless that was him departing."

Daniel, who had been sitting up on the edge of his bed, rose to his feet and ventured to a window. He could not see down to the front door from here. But in a few moments he spied a burly fellow plodding away, holding a pole in each hand, followed closely by a black sedan chair, and then a second pole-holding bloke. They patiently built up to a trot, weaving round a few stentorian vendors, knife-grinders, &c. who were making their way up and down Crane Court, pretending to be shocked that the residents were not flocking out of their houses to transact business with them.

Daniel tracked Isaac's sedan chair until it reached Fleet, which was a howling flume of Monday morning traffic. The bearers paused long enough to draw deep breaths and then executed a mad sally into a gap between carriages. From a hundred yards away, through a window, Daniel could hear drivers reminding them about their mothers. But the whole advantage of the sedan chair was that it could out-pace other vehicles by insinuating itself into any narrow leads that might present themselves in traffic, and so very soon they had vanished in the tide of men and animals flowing to Westminster. "Sir Isaac is on his way to the opening of Parliament," Daniel hazarded.

"Yes, sir. As is Sir Christopher Wren, who also nipped in and asked about you," said Mrs. Arlanc, who had not failed to seize on this rare opportunity to strip off the bed-clothes. "But that is not all, oh, no sir. Why, this morning you've had mail from a d.u.c.h.ess. A messenger brought it round not half an hour ago. 'Tis on the top of the basket."

Hanover 21 January 1714 Dr. Waterhouse, Dr. Waterhouse, As you are expected (G.o.d willing) to arrive in London soon, Baron von Leibniz is eager to correspond with you. I have made private arrangements for letters to be conveyed between Hanover and London by couriers who may be trusted. At the risk of being presumptuous, I have offered the Doctor (as I affectionately call him, even though he has been enn.o.bled) the use of this service. My seal on this envelope is my affirmation that the enclosed letter came from the Doctor's hand to yours, untouched and unseen by any other person. As you are expected (G.o.d willing) to arrive in London soon, Baron von Leibniz is eager to correspond with you. I have made private arrangements for letters to be conveyed between Hanover and London by couriers who may be trusted. At the risk of being presumptuous, I have offered the Doctor (as I affectionately call him, even though he has been enn.o.bled) the use of this service. My seal on this envelope is my affirmation that the enclosed letter came from the Doctor's hand to yours, untouched and unseen by any other person.If you would forgive a short personal memorial, I beg leave to inform you that I have taken possession of Leicester House, which, as you may know, was once the home of Elizabeth Stuart, before she came to be known as the Winter Queen; when I return to it, which may occur soon, I trust you will be so generous with your Time, as to call upon me there.Your humble and obedient servant, Eliza de la Zeur Eliza de la Zeur d.u.c.h.ess of Arcachon-Qwghlm d.u.c.h.ess of Arcachon-Qwghlm This had been wrapped around a letter written in Leibniz's hand: Daniel, That G.o.d hears the prayers of Lutherans, is a proposition hotly disputed by many, including many Lutherans. Indeed the late fortunes of the King of Sweden in his wars against the Tsar might lend support to those who say, that the surest way to bring something about, is for Lutherans to get down on their knees and pray that G.o.d forbid it. Notwithstanding which, I have prayed for your safe pa.s.sage every day since I was allowed to know you had left Boston, and I write these lines in the hope and expectation that you have arrived safe in London. That G.o.d hears the prayers of Lutherans, is a proposition hotly disputed by many, including many Lutherans. Indeed the late fortunes of the King of Sweden in his wars against the Tsar might lend support to those who say, that the surest way to bring something about, is for Lutherans to get down on their knees and pray that G.o.d forbid it. Notwithstanding which, I have prayed for your safe pa.s.sage every day since I was allowed to know you had left Boston, and I write these lines in the hope and expectation that you have arrived safe in London.It would be unseemly for me to beg for your succour so early in this letter, and so I shall divert you (or so I flatter myself) by relating my last conversation with my employer, Peter Romanov, or Peter the Great, as he is now styled-not without perfectly sound reasons-by many (I say "employer" because he owes-I do not say "pays"-me a stipend to act as his advisor on certain matters; my Mistress and liege-lady remains, as always, Sophie).As you probably know, the Tsar's chief occupation these last several years has been making war on the Swedes and on the Turks. What little time remains, he spends on the building of his city, St. Petersburg, which by all accounts is growing up into a fair place, though it is built on a slough. Which amounts to saying, that he has little time to listen to the prating of savants.But he does have some some time. Since he flushed the Swedes out of Poland, it has become his habit to travel down through that country and into Bohemia to take the waters at Carlsbad for a few weeks out of every year. This happens in the winter when the land is too barren and the seas too frozen for him to prosecute his wars. Carlsbad, which lies in a mountain valley thick with n.o.ble trees, is easily reached from Hanover, and so that is where I go to earn-I do not say "collect"-my pay as consultant to the Tsar of All the Russias. time. Since he flushed the Swedes out of Poland, it has become his habit to travel down through that country and into Bohemia to take the waters at Carlsbad for a few weeks out of every year. This happens in the winter when the land is too barren and the seas too frozen for him to prosecute his wars. Carlsbad, which lies in a mountain valley thick with n.o.ble trees, is easily reached from Hanover, and so that is where I go to earn-I do not say "collect"-my pay as consultant to the Tsar of All the Russias.But if you are imagining a peaceful winter idyll, it is because I have not rendered the scene faithfully. (1) The entire point of "taking the waters" is to induce violent diarrhoea for days or weeks on end. (2) Peter brings with him a vast entourage of l.u.s.ty Steppenwolves who do not take well to the genteel boredom of Carlsbad. Such words as "languid," "leisurely," and "placid," common as they may be among the Quality of Europe, who are exhausted by a quarter-century of wars, do not appear to be translatable into any of the languages spoken by Peter's crowd. They stay on an estate that is loaned to them by the Polish duke who owns it. But I am certain that this fellow does so out of some baser emotion than hospitality, for every year the Russians find it in good repair, and leave it a ruin. I would not even have been able to reach the place if I had not come in my own personal carriage; the local coachmen will not venture near it for any amount of money, for fear that they or their horses will be struck by musket-b.a.l.l.s, or-what is more dangerous-be invited to join in the revels.I was not afforded a choice. When I stepped out of my coach in the carriageway of this estate, I was spied by a dwarf, who saw me thanking G.o.d for my safe arrival, and beseeching Him for an expeditious departure, in the Lutheran manner. "Swede! Swede!" he began to cry, and the chant was rapidly taken up by others. I told my driver to make himself scarce and he rattled away promptly. Meanwhile I had been picked up by a pair of Cossacks and thrown into a different sort of vehicle: an ordinary gardener's wheelbarrow. But it took me several moments to understand this, for it had been decked out with silver candelabras, silk curtains, and embroidered tapestries. To make room for me, they had to expel a marble bust of the King of Prussia, which was already spalled by impacts of musket-b.a.l.l.s, and now broke in half on the icy cobblestones. Then the living Leibniz took the place of the carved King. Unlike my predecessor I did not break in two, though I was put in my chariot roughly enough that I was lucky not to have fractured my tailbone. A fragment of a lady's tiara was stabbed into my periwig to serve as a crown, and without further ceremony I was wheeled into the grand ballroom of this stately house, which was as smoky as any battle-field. By this time I had been engulfed in a motley phalanx of dwarves, Cossacks, Tatars, and diverse ill-looking Europeans who had been milling about in the stable-yard until my arrival. I did not see a single Russian until the smoke, driven by a frigid gust from the open doors, cleared from the far end of the ballroom to reveal a sort of makeshift fortress that had been erected by flipping several dining-tables up on edge, and then lashing those walls of polished wood together with bell-ropes and curtain-pulls. This fortification was supplemented by demilunes and ravelins, fashioned from chairs and cabinets; and it was manned entirely by Russians.I collected now that Peter's entourage had been divided into two groups, viz. Muscovites, and Miscellaneous, and that a battle was being enacted. Or re re-enacted; for the general arrangement of the redoubt, and the deployment of the Miscellaneous forces, brought to mind the Battle of Poltava. Peter's antagonist in that great clash was King Charles XII of Sweden, which role had been played by the marble bust until moments ago; but said statue had performed so miserably that his forces had been repulsed, and driven back into the bitter cold of the stable-yard. Little wonder that they had seized on me, a flesh-and-blood Lutheran, as a replacement. But if they were expecting me to display any more martial qualities than the bust, they were sorely let down, for even after I had been wheeled into the van of the Miscellaneous battalions, I comported myself in all ways as a sixty-seven-year-old philosopher. If I p.i.s.sed myself it was of no account, since the Moravian prost.i.tute who came running toward me with a two-foot-high tankard of beer, tripped on her dirndl and flung the contents into my lap.After this pause for refreshment, the Miscellaneous forces mounted a charge towards the redoubt. We had got about halfway across the ballroom when some Russian galloped out from behind an overturned armoire and cut the chandelier-rope with a backhand swing of his saber. I looked up to see half a ton of crystal, and a gross of lit tapers, descending toward me like a glittering meteor. The men who were pushing my wheelbarrow flung themselves forward and with a mighty acceleration we shot beneath the chandelier so close that I felt the warmth of the candle-flames moments before being struck by a hail of shattered crystal. We had dodged it; but those behind us were brought up short by this spectacle, and then hindered by its sharp wreckage. So our advance faltered; faltered; but my heart but my heart stopped, stopped, when I saw barrels of muskets reach up over the wooden redoubt, and then shorten as they were leveled at us. Pan-powder flashed up and down the line, and then bolts of white fire sprang towards us. But nothing else came our way save a few chunks of wadding-material. I was struck on the arm by a smoking wine-cork and still bear the bruise on my bicep. The amount of smoke hardly bears description. Most of it came forth in an amorphous cloud, however I saw one or two smoke-rings, about the size of a man's hat, propagating across the room, and retaining their shape and when I saw barrels of muskets reach up over the wooden redoubt, and then shorten as they were leveled at us. Pan-powder flashed up and down the line, and then bolts of white fire sprang towards us. But nothing else came our way save a few chunks of wadding-material. I was struck on the arm by a smoking wine-cork and still bear the bruise on my bicep. The amount of smoke hardly bears description. Most of it came forth in an amorphous cloud, however I saw one or two smoke-rings, about the size of a man's hat, propagating across the room, and retaining their shape and vis viva vis viva for extraordinary distances. These rings are unlike water-waves, which consist of different water at different times, for smoke rings propagate through clear air, proving that they indeed carry their own substance with them, neither diluting it with, nor dispersing it into, the surrounding atmosphere. And yet there is nothing special about the smoke as such-it is the same smoke that hangs over battlefields in shapeless clouds. The ident.i.ty of a smoke ring would appear to consist, not in the stuff of which it is made, for that is commonplace and indifferent, but rather in a particular set of relationships that is brought into being among its parts. It is this pattern of relationships that coheres in s.p.a.ce and persists in time and endows the smoke-ring with an ident.i.ty. Perhaps some similar observation might be made about other ent.i.ties that we observe, and credit with uniqueness and ident.i.ty, including even human beings. For the stuff of which we are made is just the common stuff of the world, viz. ordinary gross matter, so that a materialist might say, we are no different from rocks; and yet our matter is imbued with some organizing principle that endows us with ident.i.ties, so that I may send a letter to Daniel Waterhouse in London in the full confidence that, like a smoke-ring traversing a battle-field, he has traveled a great distance, and persisted for a long time, and yet is still the same man. The question, as always, is whether the organizing principle is for extraordinary distances. These rings are unlike water-waves, which consist of different water at different times, for smoke rings propagate through clear air, proving that they indeed carry their own substance with them, neither diluting it with, nor dispersing it into, the surrounding atmosphere. And yet there is nothing special about the smoke as such-it is the same smoke that hangs over battlefields in shapeless clouds. The ident.i.ty of a smoke ring would appear to consist, not in the stuff of which it is made, for that is commonplace and indifferent, but rather in a particular set of relationships that is brought into being among its parts. It is this pattern of relationships that coheres in s.p.a.ce and persists in time and endows the smoke-ring with an ident.i.ty. Perhaps some similar observation might be made about other ent.i.ties that we observe, and credit with uniqueness and ident.i.ty, including even human beings. For the stuff of which we are made is just the common stuff of the world, viz. ordinary gross matter, so that a materialist might say, we are no different from rocks; and yet our matter is imbued with some organizing principle that endows us with ident.i.ties, so that I may send a letter to Daniel Waterhouse in London in the full confidence that, like a smoke-ring traversing a battle-field, he has traveled a great distance, and persisted for a long time, and yet is still the same man. The question, as always, is whether the organizing principle is added to added to the gross matter to animate it, as yeast is thrown into beer, or the gross matter to animate it, as yeast is thrown into beer, or inheres in inheres in the relationships among the parts themselves. As a Natural Philosopher I feel compelled to support the latter view, for if Natural Philosophy is to explain the world, it must do so in terms of the things that make up the world, without recourse to occult intrusions from some external, unknowable Realm Beyond. That is the view I have set forth in my book the relationships among the parts themselves. As a Natural Philosopher I feel compelled to support the latter view, for if Natural Philosophy is to explain the world, it must do so in terms of the things that make up the world, without recourse to occult intrusions from some external, unknowable Realm Beyond. That is the view I have set forth in my book Monadology, Monadology, a copy of which is enclosed-you are most welcome-and, right or wrong, I interpreted the smoke-rings flying past me in the ballroom in Carlsbad as a Roman would interpret owls, ravens, &c. before a battle. a copy of which is enclosed-you are most welcome-and, right or wrong, I interpreted the smoke-rings flying past me in the ballroom in Carlsbad as a Roman would interpret owls, ravens, &c. before a battle.The Russians had not fired live musket-b.a.l.l.s at us; or if they had, none had struck me. I flattered myself for a moment that we were safe. But then, on the other side of the smoke-bank into which I was being thrust headlong, I heard the sc.r.a.pe and ring of steel blades being whisked from scabbards, and the rumbling roar of deep-chested Russians bellowing war-cries as they vaulted over wrecked furniture. They were mounting a sally from the redoubt! They came out of the haze like apparitions, as if the smoke itself were condensing to solid form, and fell upon the attackers swinging their blades. By this point I had fully convinced myself that I really was caught up in a violent insurrection, and that I would go to my death in a wheelbarrow. Then my attention was commanded by a vast disturbance propagating through the smoke towards me: not so much a single whorl or eddy, as a whole meteorological event unto itself, like the towering whirlwinds of America, and seeming all the higher for my position: as low down in the wheelbarrow as I could slouch.Glints and gleams, not only of steel, but of diamonds, and cloth-of-gold, shone through the dark turbulence of it; and finally the smoke cleared away, like a bow-wave parting round the gilded figurehead of a ship, to reveal Peter the Great.When he recognized me, he laughed, and given my circ.u.mstance I could do nothing but accept this humiliation. "Let us go out," he said in Dutch."I am afraid I will be killed!" I returned, quite honestly. He laughed again, then sheathed his saber and stepped forward until he was straddling the wheelbarrow, almost as if he meant to p.i.s.s on me. Then he bent down, planted his shoulder in my gut, wrapped one arm around my waist, and lifted me up as if I were a sack of coffee-beans being taken from a ship's hold. In a moment I was upside down over his shoulder, watching his spurs glide above the marble floor as he bore me across the room with immense strides. I expected to see pools of blood and severed limbs, too, but the worst was the occasional burst of beer-vomit. The battle still raged all around, but the shouting was mixed with a good deal of hilarity. Blade still rang against blade, but where sword-blows struck home, they did so with slapping noises; the Russians were beating their foes with the flats of their sabers.In a few moments Peter had carried me out into a formal garden that had been hewn at great expense from the surrounding forest. He bent over and tossed me onto what I first supposed was a very high bench; but it pivoted beneath me. Looking around, and shaking away my dizziness, and blinking off the brightness of the sun on the snow, I perceived that I was perched on the wheel of a wagon, which had flipped over on its side at the end of a long set of skid-marks. It had plowed to a stop in a topiary hedge shaped like a man-of-war, which was now listing to port as a result of having been rammed by this cart. The hedge served to block the wind; and the cart-wheel, which was as high off the ground as an average man's shoulder, elevated me to the point where by sitting up straight I could very nearly look the Tsar in the eye.Now, it was not usual to see him so quickly. In previous years I have been summoned to Carlsbad most urgently, only to languish in the town for days or weeks as I beg his Court officials for the favor of an audience. My first impulse was to be pleased that I had found myself in the Presence so soon; then I had the wit to realize that he would only act in such haste if he were angry with me, or wanted me to do something. As it turned out, I was right about both.The conversation was direct. Some would say brutal. It is not that Peter is a brute. Extremely violent and dangerous to be sure, but more in the style of a highly effective Roman Emperor than of a cave-bear. It is simply that he likes to accomplish things, preferably with his own hands, and tends to view conversations as impediments. He would rather do do something of an essentially stupid and pointless nature, than something of an essentially stupid and pointless nature, than talk talk of something beautiful or momentous. He wants his servants to be like his hands, which carry out his will immediately and without the tedium of verbal instructions-so much so that if a conversation extends beyond a few sentences, he will grow intolerably restless, his face will become disfigured by uncontrollable tics, and he will shoulder his interlocutor out of his way and take action himself. Since he and I do not share fluency in any language, he might have summoned an interpreter-but he was content to get along with a few crude sentences in a mixture of Dutch, German, and Russian. of something beautiful or momentous. He wants his servants to be like his hands, which carry out his will immediately and without the tedium of verbal instructions-so much so that if a conversation extends beyond a few sentences, he will grow intolerably restless, his face will become disfigured by uncontrollable tics, and he will shoulder his interlocutor out of his way and take action himself. Since he and I do not share fluency in any language, he might have summoned an interpreter-but he was content to get along with a few crude sentences in a mixture of Dutch, German, and Russian."At St. Petersburg there is a place staked out to build the Academy of Sciences as you have suggested," he began."Most Clement Lord," I said, "as I have had the honor and privilege of founding such an Academy in Berlin; and as I have made some head-way in persuading the Emperor to found one in Vienna; my joy joy upon hearing this news, cannot but be commingled with upon hearing this news, cannot but be commingled with apprehension apprehension that that of Russia will one day out-shine those of the Germans, and perhaps even put the Royal Society in the shade." that that of Russia will one day out-shine those of the Germans, and perhaps even put the Royal Society in the shade."You can well imagine his impatience as I croaked this out. Before I was half-way through it, he was stomping back and forth in the frozen garden like a frost-bitten sentry. I looked down to the opposite end of the clearing and noticed several portraits in ornate gilded frames, which had been taken down from the walls of the chateau, leaned against the hedge, and used for musketry practice. The faces of most of those paintings now consisted of fist-sized holes, and stray b.a.l.l.s had punched out novel constellations in the dark backgrounds. I decided I had better get to the point. "How can I make this happen?"This startled him and he spun round to glare at me. "What?""You want the Russian Academy to over-awe those of Berlin, Vienna, and London?""Yes.""How may I be of service to your Tsarish Majesty? Do you want me to recruit savants?""Russia is big. I can make make savants. Just as I can make soldiers. But a soldier without a gun is only a fire that burns food. I think the same is true of a savant without his tools." savants. Just as I can make soldiers. But a soldier without a gun is only a fire that burns food. I think the same is true of a savant without his tools."I shrugged. "Mathematicians do not require tools. But all the other types of savant need something or other to help them do their work.""Get those things," he commanded."Yes, Most Clement Lord.""We will make that thing you spoke of," he announced. "The library-that-thinks.""The great machine that manipulates knowledge according to a set of logical rules?""Yes. That would be a good thing for my Academy of Science to have. No one else has one.""On both counts I am in full agreement, your Imperial Majesty.""What do you need, to build it?""Just as St. Petersburg cannot be built without architects' drawings, or a ship without plans-""Yes, yes, yes, you need the tables of knowledge, written down as binary numbers, and you need the rules of symbolic logic. I have supported this work for many years!""With generosity worthy of a Caesar, sire. And I have developed a logical calculus well adapted to regulate the workings of the machine.""What of the tables of knowledge!? You told me a man was working on this in Boston!"By this point the Tsar had stormed up and put his face quite close to mine and gone into one of his twitching fits, which had spread to involve his arm. To steady himself he had gripped the rim of the wheel upon which I was seated, and was twisting it back and forth, rotating me first this way, then that.For what I said next, it may help to exonerate me slightly in your eyes, Daniel, if I mention that this Tsar still breaks men on the wheel, and does even worse things to those who have incurred his displeasure; which was impossible for me to put out of my mind in my current circ.u.mstance, viz. mounted on a large wheel. Before I could think better of it, I blurted, "Oh, Dr. Waterhouse is on his way across the Atlantic at this very moment, and should, G.o.d willing, reach London soon!""He is turning over the work I I paid for, to the Royal Society!? I knew I should have throttled that Newton when I had the opportunity!" (For when Peter visited London some years ago he met Sir Isaac at the Mint.) paid for, to the Royal Society!? I knew I should have throttled that Newton when I had the opportunity!" (For when Peter visited London some years ago he met Sir Isaac at the Mint.)"Not at all, Clement Lord, for indeed, your humble servant and all his works are reviled by the Royal Society, which would never accept anything linked to my name, even if Dr. Waterhouse were to behave so dishonestly, which is inconceivable!""I am building up my Navy," Peter announced.This, I confess, made little impression on me, for he is never not not building up his Navy. building up his Navy."I have ordered three men-of-war to be constructed in London," he continued, "and to sail into the Baltic when weather permits in the spring, to join my fleet for a further a.s.sault upon the Swedes; for I have not yet fully purged Finland of those vermin. It is my wish that when those ships sail from London, they are to be laden with tools for my savants to use at the Academy of Science, and they are to carry the fruits of the labors of Dr. Waterhouse.""It shall be as you say, your Imperial Majesty," I answered, as it seemed unwise to give any different different response. response.Then he could not shoo me away fast enough. I was dragged, breakneck, back into the center of Carlsbad on a troika troika and re-united with my driver. Thence we proceeded to Hanover with only a brief detour to Leipzig, where all of my affairs are in a state of upheaval. Publication of and re-united with my driver. Thence we proceeded to Hanover with only a brief detour to Leipzig, where all of my affairs are in a state of upheaval. Publication of Monadology Monadology has gone forward with only the normal amount of bickering with printers. Now that the war is over, Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough's valiant brother-in-arms, has taken an interest in Philosophy-which may or may not be an affectation. At any rate, he asked me to write down some of my ideas in a form that would be readable by people like him, who are literate, and intelligent, but do not make a professional study of Philosophy (and he is not the first. It would be interesting to ask one of these people why they a.s.sume it is possible to do this in the case of has gone forward with only the normal amount of bickering with printers. Now that the war is over, Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough's valiant brother-in-arms, has taken an interest in Philosophy-which may or may not be an affectation. At any rate, he asked me to write down some of my ideas in a form that would be readable by people like him, who are literate, and intelligent, but do not make a professional study of Philosophy (and he is not the first. It would be interesting to ask one of these people why they a.s.sume it is possible to do this in the case of philosophy philosophy when they would never dream of asking Sir Isaac to write a version of when they would never dream of asking Sir Isaac to write a version of Principia Mathematica Principia Mathematica with all of the mathematicks taken out). I have done the best I can to satisfy Prince Eugene. The tract is called with all of the mathematicks taken out). I have done the best I can to satisfy Prince Eugene. The tract is called Principles of Nature and of Grace, Principles of Nature and of Grace, and and its its printing moves forward too, attended by a completely different set of distractions and controversies. But most of my time in Leipzig was spent, not on the publication of printing moves forward too, attended by a completely different set of distractions and controversies. But most of my time in Leipzig was spent, not on the publication of new new work, but on the most tedious re-hashing of what I was doing forty years ago. Since you are in the bosom of the Royal Society, Daniel, you know what I refer to: the dispute with Sir Isaac as to who first invented the calculus. Letters have been flying back and forth like kites over a knacker's yard ever since this became work, but on the most tedious re-hashing of what I was doing forty years ago. Since you are in the bosom of the Royal Society, Daniel, you know what I refer to: the dispute with Sir Isaac as to who first invented the calculus. Letters have been flying back and forth like kites over a knacker's yard ever since this became warm warm about six years ago, but it has been about six years ago, but it has been hot hot during the last two years, or ever since Sir Isaac began to convene "committees" and, G.o.d help us, "tribunals" at the Royal Society to render an during the last two years, or ever since Sir Isaac began to convene "committees" and, G.o.d help us, "tribunals" at the Royal Society to render an impartial impartial verdict. In short, by the time you read this, anything I might say concerning the Priority Dispute will be out of date, and you can get better intelligence by stopping anyone in the hallway and asking him for the latest. verdict. In short, by the time you read this, anything I might say concerning the Priority Dispute will be out of date, and you can get better intelligence by stopping anyone in the hallway and asking him for the latest.By this point, Daniel, you are no doubt frantic with anxiety that I'm about to ask for your help in my war with Sir Isaac. Indeed, I confess I might have stooped so low, if Peter had not laid more pressing burdens upon me. As it happened, during the ride from Leipzig to Hanover I scarcely thought of Newton at all, save in one, purely practical sense: I could not imagine how I was going to get a letter to you at Crane Court without someone-possibly even Newton himself-recognizing my handwriting, and tearing it open.Upon my arrival, however, I learned that Providence had shed some favor on me. My old friend (and yours, I believe) Eliza, the d.u.c.h.ess of Arcachon-Qwghlm, had come to town incognito incognito.Several members of the English n.o.bility have gravitated to Hanover in the last year or two, as the war ground to a halt like an unwound clock, and it became evident that England would not suffer the Pretender to succeed Queen Anne. These English courtiers-all Whigs, of course-have probably earned the scorn of London society for turning their backs on a reigning Queen and leaving their country to curry favor with Sophie and her son. And perhaps some of them deserve it. But they have performed invaluable services, not only to the Hanoverians but to England, by forging contacts, teaching their future rulers a few words of English, and coaxing them to think concretely about preparations. If the change of reign goes smoothly, you may thank them for it. They will be sure to compensate themselves handsomely!This is not the place to tell the nature of Eliza's work in Hanover. Suffice it to say that her incognito incognito is not just a histrionic fashion statement. She is not seen in Court. Almost no one knows she is here. She corresponds frequently with a certain distinguished Englishman who lived in Frankfort until recently, when he moved to Antwerp. And if she receives letters from the Pretender's court in St.-Germain, it is not because she is in league with the Jacobites, but because she makes it her business to know every detail of the plots that are being laid there, to bring a Catholic king back to the Court of St. James. At any rate, the d.u.c.h.ess's network of couriers is peerless and more than equal to the task of getting a letter from my hands to yours without it falling into the grasping claws, and pa.s.sing beneath the bulging eyeb.a.l.l.s, of Sir Isaac. is not just a histrionic fashion statement. She is not seen in Court. Almost no one knows she is here. She corresponds frequently with a certain distinguished Englishman who lived in Frankfort until recently, when he moved to Antwerp. And if she receives letters from the Pretender's court in St.-Germain, it is not because she is in league with the Jacobites, but because she makes it her business to know every detail of the plots that are being laid there, to bring a Catholic king back to the Court of St. James. At any rate, the d.u.c.h.ess's network of couriers is peerless and more than equal to the task of getting a letter from my hands to yours without it falling into the grasping claws, and pa.s.sing beneath the bulging eyeb.a.l.l.s, of Sir Isaac.So, to the matter at hand: Peter's three new warships are supposedly being completed at Orney's ship-yard in a place called Rotherhithe, across the river from Limehouse, adjacent to the Shepherd and Dog Stairs, off Lavender Street. I hope that these names mean something to you!If you are feeling up to a minor adventure, and if it would in no way interfere with whatever it is you are supposed to be doing for Princess Caroline, I should be indebted if you were to (1) learn from Mr. Orney when those ships are expected to sail for St. Petersburg, and (2) before they do so, freight them, as much as you can, with goods that might be of use, or at least of interest, to aspiring Russian Natural Philosophers, viz. thermometers, scales, lenses, toad's-eyes, unicorn's-gallbladders, Philosopher's Stone, and the like; and (3) for G.o.d's sake give the Tsar something to show for our work of the last fifteen years. If you can arrange for your note-cards to be shipped over from Boston in time, that is ideal. Short of that, any tangible any tangible evidence that you have been doing evidence that you have been doing something something at the Ma.s.sachusetts Bay Inst.i.tute of Technologickal Arts, may help to keep your humble and obedient servant from being broken on a wheel before the Russian Academy of Sciences, as an example to Scientists who draw stipends without yielding Science. at the Ma.s.sachusetts Bay Inst.i.tute of Technologickal Arts, may help to keep your humble and obedient servant from being broken on a wheel before the Russian Academy of Sciences, as an example to Scientists who draw stipends without yielding Science.Yours, & c., Leibniz Leibniz Daniel got dressed. Much of his clothing had been blown up. In the two weeks since, however, Mrs. Arlanc had brokered the procurement of new garments. Daniel had been too debilitated to meddle. Consequently he was now closer to being a la mode a la mode than at any time in his life. than at any time in his life.

The last fifty years had not witnessed anything like the thorough-going revolution in gentlemen's attire that had come about after the Plague and the Fire, when doublets, and other medieval vestiges, had finally vanished from the world by decree of Charles II. The garments stacked on the table next to Daniel's bed bore the same names, and covered more or less the same bits of the humane anatomy, as the ones that had become fashionable at that time: hose up to the knee, breeches, a linen shirt, a long, skirted, many-b.u.t.toned vest, and over that a long-sleeved coat with even more b.u.t.tons. They had even managed to scare up a periwig for him. The old Louis XIV lion-mane wig was no longer in use; the new ones were narrower and more compact. A bizarre affectation seemed to have taken hold, of dusting them with white powder. The one Mrs. Arlanc had put on the block-head here was as plain as could be, and simply made it look as if Daniel had a luxuriant head of snow-white hair, tied back in a queue. Daniel put it on, if only to keep his bald head warm. He had avoided freezing to death in this room only by wearing a woolen night-cap twenty-four hours a day.

While he was putting on these clothes, which took a long time-his fingers were stiff with age and chill, and the b.u.t.tons never ended-he glanced through the basket Mrs. Arlanc thought of as a repository, and Daniel thought of as a dustbin, for his mail. There were five separate communications from Mr. Threader, two from Roger Comstock, one from the Earl of Lostwithiel, and diverse cards and notes from Fellows who had stopped by to look in on him, and been turned away by the adamant Mrs. Arlanc. His London relations, some of whom he had never even heard of (these were children of the late Sterling and of Raleigh, and of William Ham) had written, somewhat perfunctorily. As promised, Monadology Monadology was in there from Leibniz, and there was a 2nd edition of Isaac's was in there from Leibniz, and there was a 2nd edition of Isaac's Principia Mathematica, Principia Mathematica, its leather cover still reeking of the tannery. This had been dropped off, not by Isaac-indeed, there was nothing in the basket from him-but by one of his young acolytes, who had thoughtfully piled on top of it a recent issue of its leather cover still reeking of the tannery. This had been dropped off, not by Isaac-indeed, there was nothing in the basket from him-but by one of his young acolytes, who had thoughtfully piled on top of it a recent issue of Journal Literaire, Journal Literaire, a Royal Society doc.u.ment from last year called a Royal Society doc.u.ment from last year called Commercium Epistolic.u.m, Commercium Epistolic.u.m, and a litter of broadsheets and pamphlets in diverse languages, all tied together with narrow black ribbo