The Baroque Cycle - The System Of The World Part 55

"It is just the sort of hidden mare's nest about which one has bad dreams when putting one's money in a Bank," Saturn reflected, at a moment when he and Daniel were several convolutions behind Mr. Ham and Monsieur Kohan. But a moment later they caught up to find William Ham looking a bit huffy. He was directing their attention to a Gothik arch sealed off by a new portcullis of iron bars. Pyramidal beams of lanthorn-light, shining through the interstices, careered around the s.p.a.ce on the other side. Slivers of gold and silver winked between the planks of crates. "The inherited complexities of the property," said Mr. Ham, "are, as you can see, giving way to a steady programme of rationalization. Where weaknesses are found, they are made strong. Several entire chambers have been infilled. Where sound vaults are discovered, they are fortified, as here." Mr. Ham then took them on a lengthy detour intended to bolster these and other a.s.sertions with evidence visual and anecdotal. By this point Daniel could no more have made his way out to the street than he could have balanced the Bank's accounts on his fingers. But he did feel that they were on average descending, for the air got damper and colder as they went, and the architecture changed. There was less wood, and what there was of it was rotten, and being replaced by masonry. They pa.s.sed through a Gothik stratum into a Romanesque, or perhaps Roman-boundaries were ambiguous, as the site might have gone unchanged for half a millennium after the Romans had pulled out. Evidence of dampness was all round, though actual standing water was rare. It looked, in other words, as though they had found a way to channel groundwater and drain it out of the place-probably to Walbrook, a local creek that was famous because, at some point after the Fall of Rome, it had gone missing.

They came at some length to a chamber, sealed by a ma.s.sive ironbound door, which William unlocked with a key big enough to double as a bludgeon should the Bank come under attack. It was large for a subterranean vault, small for a parish church. Like a church, it had an aisle up the center, which had been made useful as a gutter. A trickle of groundwater two fingers wide meandered through crevices between close-set paving-stones. To either side of the aisle was a raised platform, also paved. Crates, lock-boxes, and money-bags had been piled up on these. William Ham led them up to the far end of the room, where the platforms gave way to a clear open s.p.a.ce, and the trickle of aisle-water disappeared into a hole in the floor. He identified an open s.p.a.ce at the end of a platform, and by a gesture indicated that Saturn should set the chest down there. Saturn did; but Solomon did not witness it, as he was inspecting the room.

Solomon shoved a sack of money aside to make a clear s.p.a.ce on the platform, into which he spat, and then rubbed the saliva with a thumb until he had smeared away the patina of dust and congealed slime to reveal, in the light of Daniel's lanthorn, a few chips of colored stone set into the surface. A glimpse of a Mosaic.

"Roman?" Daniel guessed. Solomon nodded.

"As I think I have now demonstrated, the plates will be perfectly safe in this sealed vault until the time has come to ship them to St. Petersburg," William said to Solomon, as the ancient Jew came up to join them at the head of the chamber. But Solomon was staring at the floor. "Pray lend me your key," he said, holding out a hand.

William Ham did not like this proposition at all. But he could come up with no reason to refuse. He placed it in Solomon's hand. Solomon squatted down, felt the floor with his fingertips for some moments, then inserted the key's handle-which looked a bit like a very ornate trowel-into the drain-hole. A bit of exploratory wiggling and prying led to the sudden appearance of a large crescent-moon-shaped crevice. Saturn stepped forward. "Careful!" Solomon continued, "it will be a well."

"How do you know?"

"This is a Temple of Mithras, constructed by Roman soldiers," Solomon said, "and every such temple contained a well."

Saturn got his fingers into the crevice and pulled. A disk perhaps two feet in diameter came up out of the floor. It had been fashioned recently out of heavy planks. A lanthorn, let down into the cavity, revealed a well-shaft, lined with stones all the way down to the level of the water, which was perhaps three fathoms below.

"Your workmen found the well, and covered it," said Solomon. "But more for their own safety, than the Bank's security. I would wager the contents of this Bank that I could now leave the premises and meet you out in the street in half an hour's time without pa.s.sing out through the building's front door."

"That is a bet I could not accept, even if the money were mine to wager," said William Ham, "for I can smell and feel the current of air rising up from the shaft as well as you."

"Indeed, the well has a side-channel!" exclaimed Saturn, who was on his stomach with head and shoulders thrust down into the shaft. "About halfway down. I have a mind to fetch one of the workmen's ladders and investigate!"

This was daft. But once Saturn had proposed, none could resist, it. Ladders were all over the place. They stabbed one down the well and planted it on the floor of the side-channel that Saturn had noticed. He went down first, and reported that the masons of the Temple of Mithras had carried out their duties well.

"As how could they not," Solomon returned, "for Mithras was the G.o.d of contracts."

"The G.o.d of contracts G.o.d of contracts!?" exclaimed William Ham.

"Indeed," said Solomon, "and so it is a good thing for you that you have founded your Bank on his Temple."

"This Mithras does not appear in any Pantheon I have ever heard of."

"He was not a G.o.d of Olympus but one that the Greeks borrowed from the Persians, who had in their turn borrowed him from Hindoostan. From the Greeks his cult spread to the Romans, and became popular around the hundredth year of what you call Anno Domini Anno Domini. Or, as I would put it, some years after the destruction of the Temple of Solomon. Especially among soldiers, such as garrisoned Londinium, along the banks of the Walbrook."

Solomon had been clambering onto the ladder as he spoke.

"You aren't going down there?"

"Mr. Ham, I was sent here by the Tsar to investigate the Bank's security," said Solomon, "and inspect it I shall!"

Daniel followed Solomon down the ladder. Three of them now squatted together in a vaulted tunnel that ran off into the earth, sloping gently down toward the well so that it, too, acted as a drain. William Ham was left to sit sentry in the Temple of Mithras, and to run for help if they never emerged. But after a very brief shuffle down the tunnel they sensed s.p.a.ce above their heads, and found stone steps, which turned to the right and led them down to the level of the groundwater. A creek, perhaps eight feet in breadth, ran sluggishly off into the dark, wending round pilings, moles, and foundations one could only a.s.sume supported buildings up on the street. In rainy weather they might have had to stop and turn back. But it was the first day of August and the level did not rise above their ankles as long as they stayed along the side of the channel. So they ventured downstream, shining their lights on walls and foundations as they went, and speculating as to which belonged to which building.

"During the Plague," Daniel said, "my uncle Thomas Ham-William's father-enlarged the cellar of his goldsmith's shop, which cannot be more than a stone's throw from us. He discovered a Roman mosaic, and diverse pagan coins and artifacts. My wife in Boston is wearing one of them in her hair."

"What did the mosaic depict?" Solomon asked.

"Some figures that called to mind Mercury. Mr. Ham styled it a Temple of Mercury and made of it a good omen. But it contained other images that would call his opinion into question-"

"Ravens?"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"Carox, the raven, was, to Persians, a messenger of the G.o.ds-" the raven, was, to Persians, a messenger of the G.o.ds-"

"As Mercury was to the Romans."

"Indeed. The worshippers of Mithras believed that as the soul descended from the sphere of the fixed stars to be incarnated on Earth, it pa.s.sed through all of the planetary spheres along the way, and was influenced by each in turn. In pa.s.sing through the sphere of Venus the soul became amorous, and so on. The innermost sphere, and the last to wreak its influence on the soul, was that of Mercury or Corax. The pract.i.tioners of this cult believed that as the soul prepared for death, and a return to the sphere of the fixed stars, it must reverse that transmigration, shedding first the trappings of Mercury-Corax, then those of Venus, et cetera, et cetera, and finally-" and finally-"

"Saturn?" guessed Saturn.

"Indeed."

"I am honored to be closest to the fixed stars, and least worldly of vices."

"Accordingly, there were seven ranks. For each rank was a chamber-always subterranean. Your uncle's cellar was that of Mercury-Corax, where new initiates were taken in. Later they would move through a gate or pa.s.sage to the next chamber, which would have been decorated with images of Venus, and so on."

"What was the big chamber under the Bank?"

"You shall be pleased to know it was the chamber of Saturn, for the highest-ranking members," Solomon said.

"I did feel wondrously at home in the place!"

"If it is true that we are pa.s.sing the foundations of the Ham goldsmith shop," said Solomon, "then we are traversing the hierarchy in reverse order, following the same course as souls coming down from the Coelestial Sphere to be incarnated in the World."

"Funny that," Daniel said, "for I have just recognized the name of an old friend of mine, who'd be pleased to know where his work stood in the hierarchy."

They had stopped before a pile of relatively new stone-work, where heavy blocks had been laid to repair some ancient foundation, and to make it ready to support a new building. For the most part it was an uninterrupted bulwark of ma.s.sive stones; but in one place a long slab had been laid like a lintel across a gap between two others, creating a low squarish opening through which the cellar on the other side could drain if need be. Carved on that lintel in spidery Roman letters was: CHRISTOPHER WREN A.D. 1672.

"This is the Church of St. Stephen Walbrook," said Daniel.

"No better place for souls to enter the world," Saturn mused.

They crawled up the drain-a tight fit-and emerged in the church's tombs. The bell was tolling above. "A grim birth," Daniel said. It took him a few moments to get his bearings, but then he led Saturn and Solomon up a stair to a room at the back of the church. They were surprised to see daylight coming in through windows-but not half so surprised as the vicar's wife was to see them them. Her eyes were swollen half-shut from weeping, her cries of terror were relatively subdued, and her efforts to chase the muddy interlopers out of the building were desultory. No service was in progress, yet, strangely, many of the pews were occupied by persons who had come to do nothing but sit and pray in silence. Daniel, Saturn and Solomon stumbled out into the half light of early morning. A man was shuffling down Walbrook Street, headed for the Thames, bonging a hand-bell and shouting: "The Queen is dead, long live the King!"

Book 8

The System of the World It remains that, from the same principles, I now demonstrate the frame of the System of the World. It remains that, from the same principles, I now demonstrate the frame of the System of the World.-NEWTON, Principia Mathematica Principia Mathematica

Marlborough House.

MORNING OF WEDNESDAY, 4 AUGUST 1714.

'Tis a notion in the pamphlet shops that Whiggish libels sell best, so industrious are they to propagate scandal and falsehood.-FROM A LETTER TO ROBERT HARLEY, 1ST EARL OF OXFORD, QUOTED IN SIR WINSTON CHURCHILL, Marlborough: His Life and Times, Marlborough: His Life and Times, VOL. VI VOL. VI THE LEVeE, LEVeE, OR RITUALIZED OR RITUALIZED, semi-public getting- out-of-bed-in-the-morning, was an invention of Louis XIV, and like many of the Sun King's works was frowned upon by all right-minded Englishmen, who knew of it only from lurid yarns told of Versailles court-fops' prost.i.tuting their daughters to w.a.n.gle an invitation to hold a candlestick or carry a shirt at a levee levee of the Sun King. This was all Daniel knew of the subject as of nine of the clock on the morning of August 4th, when a messenger knocked him up at Crane Court to inform him that he, Daniel, was one of half a dozen who had been summoned to take part in the Duke of Marlborough's first of the Sun King. This was all Daniel knew of the subject as of nine of the clock on the morning of August 4th, when a messenger knocked him up at Crane Court to inform him that he, Daniel, was one of half a dozen who had been summoned to take part in the Duke of Marlborough's first levee levee in London, which was going to commence in an hour's time. in London, which was going to commence in an hour's time.

"But my own levee levee is not yet finished," Daniel might have answered, wiping porridge from an unshaven chin. Instead he told the messenger to wait downstairs and that he would be along presently. is not yet finished," Daniel might have answered, wiping porridge from an unshaven chin. Instead he told the messenger to wait downstairs and that he would be along presently.

Marlborough House was invested by a crowd of several hundred Englishmen, the giddy-tired residue of an ecstatic Mobb that had sung the Duke through the streets of London yesterday: a Roman triumph thrown together on the spur of the moment by disorderly plebeians.

The Duke and his d.u.c.h.ess had reached Dover late on the 2nd. Yesterday had been devoted to an all-but-Royal progress through Rochester and other burgs lining the road to Londinium. So many of the Whig Quality had turned out to ride in the procession, and so many commoners had lined Watling Street, as to rouse suspicions in Daniel's mind that the rumors spread for so long by the Tories were true: Marlborough was the second coming of Cromwell. Now, to his very first levee, levee, he had invited Daniel, who could still remember sitting on Cromwell's knee when he was a little boy. he had invited Daniel, who could still remember sitting on Cromwell's knee when he was a little boy.

Next to St. James's Palace, which was getting to look like a heap of architectural elements flung into a bin, Marlborough House shaped up as a proper building. The fence around its forecourt was a giant iron strainer, stopping everyone except for Daniel. The excluded had formed drifts of flesh on the other side, and watched eagerly, faces wedged between bars. As Daniel was helped down out of the carriage, and walked to the front door, he wondered how many of the crowd knew who he was, and of his ancient connexion to the terrible Puritan warlord. Some Some of them had to be Tory spies, who would mark Daniel, and note the connexion instantly. Daniel guessed that he had been summoned here to send a message of a vaguely threatening nature to all Torydom. of them had to be Tory spies, who would mark Daniel, and note the connexion instantly. Daniel guessed that he had been summoned here to send a message of a vaguely threatening nature to all Torydom.

Vanbrugh had been remodeling the place in the expectation that the Duke would settle in for a long stay. Much of this work was still in its most brute stages and so Daniel had to be conducted under scaffolding and between piles of bricks and of timbers by a member of Marlborough's household. But as they got deeper into the building, it became more finished. The Duke's bedchamber had been done first, and the renovations propagated outwards from there. Before the Grinling Gibbons custom-carved double doors, a maid handed Daniel a large silver bowl full of steaming water, swathed in towels so it would not burn his hands. "Set it down beside my lord," he was instructed, and the doors were pulled open.

Like a beetle on a glacier the Duke of Marlborough sat in a chair in the white immensity of his bedchamber. Next to him was a table. The stubble on his scalp was dense: obviously it was Shaving-Day, and high time for it; as everyone had now heard, the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess had been held back in Ostend by contrary winds for a whole fortnight. Daniel, knowing no more of levees levees than any other Englishman, feared for a moment that he was about to be asked to lather the Duke's skull and sc.r.a.pe off two weeks' growth. But then he noted a valet standing by, stropping a razor, and understood, with immeasurable relief, that the blade-work would be left to a trained artisan. than any other Englishman, feared for a moment that he was about to be asked to lather the Duke's skull and sc.r.a.pe off two weeks' growth. But then he noted a valet standing by, stropping a razor, and understood, with immeasurable relief, that the blade-work would be left to a trained artisan.

Of the half-dozen who had been summoned to the levee, levee, Daniel was the last to arrive-this much he could see even though his eyes were dazzled by August sunshine glancing off many tons of new plasterwork. So lofty was the ceiling that a Natural Philosopher could be forgiven for thinking that the festoons and friezes up along the ceiling had been carved from natural acc.u.mulations of snow and ice. Daniel was the last to arrive-this much he could see even though his eyes were dazzled by August sunshine glancing off many tons of new plasterwork. So lofty was the ceiling that a Natural Philosopher could be forgiven for thinking that the festoons and friezes up along the ceiling had been carved from natural acc.u.mulations of snow and ice.

The Duke was in a dressing-gown of something that gleamed and whispered, and his neck had been swaddled in miles of linen in preparation for the shaving. It was as far from Puritan severity as one could possibly imagine. If there were any Tories without, on Pall Mall, who phant'sied that Daniel had come to pa.s.s the torch to the next Cromwell, a moment's glimpse into this room would have extinguished their fears. If Marlborough had come back in triumph to take over the country, he'd do so not as a military dictator but as a Sun King.

Marlborough half rose from his chair and bowed to Daniel-who nearly dropped the bowl. The other five partic.i.p.ants in the levee levee-candle-holders, shirt-bearers, wig-powderers, mostly Earls or better-bowed even deeper. Daniel could still see little, but he could hear snickers as he staggered the last few yards.

"Dr. Waterhouse does not yet know about what was found in Baron von Bothmar's lock-box to-day," the Duke hazarded.

"I confess utter ignorance, my lord," Daniel said.

"The Hanoverian amba.s.sador, Bothmar, brought with him a lock-box that was to be opened upon the death of Queen Anne. It contained orders from his majesty as to how the Realm was to be administered until such time as his majesty could come here to receive the crown, orb, and sceptre," explained the Duke. "This morning it was opened in the presence of the Council, and read out. The King has named twenty-five Regents to act in his stead until he arrives. You, Dr. Waterhouse, are one of the twenty-five."

"b.o.l.l.o.c.ks!"

"Oh, it is quite true. And so when we bow to you, my lord, it is to acknowledge your authority as a Regent. You, and your two dozen colleagues, are the closest we have, just now, to a Sovereign."

Daniel had never been addressed before as "my lord," and certainly had never guessed that the first person ever to do so would be the Duke of Marlborough. It required some presence of mind not to spill the bowl. But he brought it home, with the help of a guiding hand from the valet, and stepped back, his formal duties completed. The valet rolled a sponge into the bowl, wrung it out, and placed it on the Duke's head like a soppy crown. The Duke blinked a rivulet out of his eye, elevated his chin, and commenced going through some papers that were on his lap-for apparently one of the attractions of the levee levee was watching the great man read his mail. was watching the great man read his mail.

"Grub Street must be ten miles long now," the Duke remarked, tossing aside one newspaper after another.

"You may soon wish it were a good deal shorter."

"As may you, Dr. Waterhouse-your new prominence shall make you a b.u.t.t for innumerable Shafts." Marlborough had now c.o.c.ked his head back so that soap would not run into his eyes, which placed him in the odd position of not being able to see into his own lap. He was groping through the papers there, golden cuff-ta.s.sels flailing, occasionally holding something up at arm's length. "Ah," he announced, finding today's Lens, Lens, "I give you this, Dr. Waterhouse. Just now, I was reading it aloud to these gentlemen, as we waited for the late arrival- "I give you this, Dr. Waterhouse. Just now, I was reading it aloud to these gentlemen, as we waited for the late arrival-you may read it yourself." may read it yourself."

"Thank you, my lord, I am sure 'twas vastly more amusing than having me here on time."

"On the contrary, my lord, it is we we who ought to amuse who ought to amuse you, you," said the Duke, and jerked in his chair as the razor planed off a ridge of scar-tissue. His noggin had acquired more than its share of high and low relief as he had overseen the deaths of several hundred thousand English, French, and other soldiers in the wars against Louis XIV. They now lurked below a fortnight's stubble like shoals under a murky tide, unseen Hazards to the blade's Navigation.

"What is it I am to read, my lord?" Daniel inquired, reaching out to accept the proffered newspaper.

Marlborough's eyes-which were uncommonly large and expressive-strayed for a moment to Daniel's hand. People did not, as a rule, bother to look at Daniel's hands-nay, neither the left nor the right. They had the full complement of fingers, they had not been branded in the Old Bailey, and they were unadorned-as a rule. But today Daniel wore, on his right hand, a simple ring of gold. Never having worn jewelry before, he was astonished at how this object caught people's attention.

"A Meditation upon Power," Marlborough answered, "second page."

"It sounds meet, if I am as powerful as you say. Pray, who wrote it?"

"That's the thing," said Marlborough, "the extraordinary thing. There is a chap who goes by the nom de plume nom de plume of Peer-" of Peer-"

"He wrote it!?" wrote it!?"

"No, but he has discovered in the Clink a Blackamoor, a most remarkable specimen. He is not, of course, a sentient being-but he possesses the singular gift of being able to write and speak exactly as if he were were one." one."

"I have met him," Daniel said. His eyes had finally adjusted to where he could make out the byline DAPPA. He glanced up at the Duke, then glanced away, as a thick bead of blood was coming out in front of his right ear and coursing along his jaw-line to stain the linen beneath his chin. The Duke jerked again. "Have a care, sirrah, I did not come hither to perish of lockjaw."

Daniel scanned the other five attendees, who favored him with excruciating smiles of a sort he'd not seen directed his way since he had been semi-important in the court of James II.

The Duke was bald again. Two valets were hovering behind him with rags, occasionally darting in to stanch gore. The Duke found a hand-mirror, held it up for a moment, and grimaced. "My word," he said, "is this a shaving shaving or a or a trepanning trepanning?" He set the mirror down hastily, as if a lifetime of musket- and sword-battles had hardly prepared him for this. There was a lot of mail in his lap-more than Daniel received per decade-and it was taking him some time to find what he was looking for. Daniel studied the Duke curiously. John Churchill had been the most beautiful young man in England, perhaps even in Christendom. The divine unfairness endured even now unto the Duke's sixty-fifth year. He was old, doughy, bald, and bleeding, but he actually did have a n.o.ble countenance-far from being true of all n.o.bles-and his eyes were as large and beautiful as ever, unmarred by the sagging flesh and writhen brows that so oft made old Englishmen fearsome to behold.

"Here it is!" he announced, and whacked a letter against his knee a few times, as if this were necessary to get its words stacked up in the correct order. "From your fellow Regent!"

"My lord Ravenscar was also on Bothmar's list?" Daniel asked, for he had already spotted the handwriting and the seal.

"Oh my word, yes," said Marlborough, "odds-on favorite to be the next Lord Treasurer, you know. For who knows more about the workings of Bank, Mint, 'Chequer, and 'Change than Ravenscar?" He scanned the letter from Roger. "I shall not read it all," he a.s.sured them. "Greetings, congratulations, et cetera et cetera-and he invites me and Mrs. Churchill to attend a soiree soiree at his house on the first of September." He lifted his eyes from the page and gazed at Daniel, a trace befuddled. "Do you think it is at his house on the first of September." He lifted his eyes from the page and gazed at Daniel, a trace befuddled. "Do you think it is decent decent to have a party so soon after the Queen's death, my lord?" to have a party so soon after the Queen's death, my lord?"

"A month of mourning shall have elapsed, as of September the first, my lord," Daniel tried, "and I've no doubt it shall be a tasteful affair, duly restrained-"

"He promises right here to make his volcano erupt!" This elicited t.i.tters from the hitherto silent Five.

"Whilst mourning our late Queen, we must not omit to celebrate our new King, my lord."

"Oh, well, since you put it that way, I do believe I will attend," said the Duke. "I've never seen the famous Volcano, you know."

"It is said to be worth the trip, my lord."

"I've no doubt of that. I shall post an answer presently to the Temple of Vulcan. But if you should happen to see my lord Ravenscar, perhaps at one of the meetings of your Regency Council, you will tell him, won't you?"

"It would be my pleasure."

"Splendid! Now, may I arise, or shall it be necessary to cauterize my wounds?"

With the head-shaving, Daniel's direct relevance to the levee levee had ended. The Duke shifted his attention to others, whose roles it was to present him with shirt, wig, sword, &c. Each of these phases led to some chit-chat that was of essentially no interest to Daniel. Indeed, much of it was incomprehensible, because it was about people whom Daniel didn't know, or whose ident.i.ties he could only guess at, as the Duke was referring to them by their Christian names, or in even more oblique ways. Nevertheless, Daniel had the clear sense it would be bad form to excuse himself. He was offered a chair on account of his age, and accepted it. Time pa.s.sed. His eye drifted to the newspaper. had ended. The Duke shifted his attention to others, whose roles it was to present him with shirt, wig, sword, &c. Each of these phases led to some chit-chat that was of essentially no interest to Daniel. Indeed, much of it was incomprehensible, because it was about people whom Daniel didn't know, or whose ident.i.ties he could only guess at, as the Duke was referring to them by their Christian names, or in even more oblique ways. Nevertheless, Daniel had the clear sense it would be bad form to excuse himself. He was offered a chair on account of his age, and accepted it. Time pa.s.sed. His eye drifted to the newspaper.

A MEDITATION UPON POWER.

by Dappa The Liberty of the Clink is as one with all of GREAT BRITAIN in lamenting the pa.s.sage of our beloved Queen; the Prisoners have swopped their light, gay summer restraints for heavy mourning-fetters, and changed their gray rags for black, and all night long I am kept awake by moans and wails from the dungeons beneath, which proves that the inhabitants of the place are as sensible of the Tragedy, as my lord B-.A week ago, that man was at the summit of the great mound of corpses that is Politics, and was accounted by many the most powerful in all the land. Since the Queen's demise, we hear nothing from him, or of him. What has become of B-?It is an idle question, for no one cares what has become of that man. When people ask it, what they really mean is: what has become of B-'s Power? For a week ago he was agreed to have a great amount of it. To-day it seems he has none. Where has it got to? Many would fain know, for more men desire power than desire gold.From Herr Leibniz we have heard that there is a Property of bodies called vis viva vis viva, and another called the quant.i.te d'avancement quant.i.te d'avancement, both of which are conserved through all collisions and transformations of a system. The first is equal to the product of the ma.s.s and the square of the velocity, and the second is simply the product of the ma.s.s and the velocity. At the beginning of time the Universe was endowed with a certain fund of both, which neither waxes nor wanes with time, but is merely exchanged among bodies, like silver pennies in a market-place. Which leads one to ask: is Power like the vis viva vis viva, and the quant.i.te d'avancement quant.i.te d'avancement, i.e., is it conserved by the Universe? Or is it like shares of a stock, which may have great value one day, and be worthless the next?If Power is like stock-shares, then it follows that the immense sum thereof, lately lost by B-, has vanished like shadows in sunlight. For no matter how much wealth is lost in stock-crashes, it never seems to turn up. But if Power is conserved, then B-'s must have gone somewhere. Where is it? Some say 'twas scooped up by my lord R-, who hid it under a rock, lest my lord M-come from across the sea and s.n.a.t.c.h it away. My friends among the Whigs Whigs say that any Power lost by a Tory, is infallibly and insensibly distributed among all the People; but no matter how a.s.siduously I search the lower rooms of the Clink for B-'s lost Power, I cannot seem to find any there, which explodes that argument, for there are a.s.suredly very many People in those dark say that any Power lost by a Tory, is infallibly and insensibly distributed among all the People; but no matter how a.s.siduously I search the lower rooms of the Clink for B-'s lost Power, I cannot seem to find any there, which explodes that argument, for there are a.s.suredly very many People in those dark salons salons.I propose a novel Theory of Power, which is inspired by the lucubrations of Mr. Newcomen, the Earl of Lostwithiel, and Dr. Waterhouse on the Engine for Raising Water by Fire. As a Mill makes Flour, a Loom makes Cloth, and a Forge makes Steel, so, we are a.s.sured, this Engine shall make Power. If the Backers of this Device speak truly-and I've no reason to deprecate their honesty-it proves that Power is not not a Conserved Quant.i.ty, for of such Quant.i.ties it is never possible to make more. The amount of Power in the world, it follows, is ever-increasing, and the a Conserved Quant.i.ty, for of such Quant.i.ties it is never possible to make more. The amount of Power in the world, it follows, is ever-increasing, and the rate rate of increase grows ever faster as more of these Engines are built. A Man who h.o.a.rds Power is therefore like a miser who sits on a heap of Coins, in a Realm where the Currency is being continually debased by production of more coins than the market can bear; so that what was a great Fortune when first he raked it together, insensibly becomes a slag-heap, and is found to be devoid of value, when at last he takes it to the market-place to be spent. Thus my lord B-and his vaunted Power-h.o.a.rd. What is true of of increase grows ever faster as more of these Engines are built. A Man who h.o.a.rds Power is therefore like a miser who sits on a heap of Coins, in a Realm where the Currency is being continually debased by production of more coins than the market can bear; so that what was a great Fortune when first he raked it together, insensibly becomes a slag-heap, and is found to be devoid of value, when at last he takes it to the market-place to be spent. Thus my lord B-and his vaunted Power-h.o.a.rd. What is true of him him is likely to be true of his lackeys, particularly his most base and slavish followers, such as MR. CHARLES WHITE. This varlet has a.s.serted that he owns me. He phant'sies that to own a Man, is to have Power; yet he has got nothing by claiming to own me, while I, who was supposed to be rendered Powerless, am now writing for a Grub Street newspaper that is being perused by you, esteemed reader. is likely to be true of his lackeys, particularly his most base and slavish followers, such as MR. CHARLES WHITE. This varlet has a.s.serted that he owns me. He phant'sies that to own a Man, is to have Power; yet he has got nothing by claiming to own me, while I, who was supposed to be rendered Powerless, am now writing for a Grub Street newspaper that is being perused by you, esteemed reader.

As the Duke of Marlborough got dressed and accessorized, he told various of the courtiers to shove off, which they did, with deep bows, and almost tearful grat.i.tude for having been invited; and before the hour of noon, Daniel found himself alone in the bedchamber with the Duke, suddenly formidable in full snow-white periwig, and understated yet shockingly fashionable suit of clothes, and small-sword. They went for a stroll in a rose-garden outside the Duke's bedchamber, which led to more conversation concerning roses than Daniel was really game for. Not that he didn't like roses as much as the next chap; but to talk about them was to miss the point.

"I have accepted Ravenscar's kind invitation," the Duke finally said, "and moreover I have done so in the presence of those other five, who are among the worst gossips in London-so much so that Roger has probably got wind of it already. But there is a proviso proviso to my acceptance, which I did not mention to them. Neither shall I write it in the very courteous note I'll presently send to the Temple of Vulcan. I tell it privily to you, and rely upon you to convey it to him." to my acceptance, which I did not mention to them. Neither shall I write it in the very courteous note I'll presently send to the Temple of Vulcan. I tell it privily to you, and rely upon you to convey it to him."

"I am ready, my lord," said Daniel, trying not to let his voice betray a certain here we go again here we go again weariness. weariness.

"Let me remind you of the agreement on which you and I shook hands, on the night of the Glorious Revolution, as we stood together on the causeway of the Tower."