OXFORD LETTER
The pornoscopers of Copenhagen
MERCURIUS OXONIENSIS
Good brother Londiniensis, In my last letter to you I touched lightly upon the Elect of our nation who, by certain abstruse signs, of which they are the only interpreters, do know that they are fore-ordained of God to lead us poor bleating sheep towards the true ends of our existence and do, from time to time, give us the benefit of their mind on all subjects. Had I writ but a little later, I would have subjoined somewhat under that head concerning a newly-hatch'd sect of that same church, which I must now add as an afterthought; and I pray you to receive this brief letter of a postscript to that.
For I have this day received a long letter from my old acquaintance Mercurius Hafniensis, in Copenhagen, concerning the ceremoniall visit lately made to that city of freedom by my lord earl of Longford and his private troupe of travelling pornoscopers (or voyeurs as our neighbours in France call 'em), with their attendant train of halberdiers, trumpeters, poursuivants, etc., etc.; who, it seems, have mightily tickled those Danes, in their tenderest parts, and raised up to new heights of pruriency their languid and drooping traffique in publick indecency. Indeed, as Hafniensis assures me, there has been no such busy scrutiny into the hidden secrets of Nature amongst 'em since the days of their great astronomer Tycho Brahe, to whom his late Majesty king Frederick III gave the same generall licence and means to range the Northern sky by night (and a whole island for his observatory to boot) as their present king has bestowed upon his Lordship for his nocturnal explorations; although it must be allowed that that former observer raised his eyes to look at higher things, and recorded more decent motions.
This publick matter would not have engaged my pen, which in generall is dipp'd only in my college ink-well, save that here too (God be praised) our university can claim its part; so active are our members in all bold enterprises for the uncovering of truth. For not only was his Lordship formerly a noble (if winding and excentrique) pillar of our little commonwealth, but he has, in his troupe, one of our new-fledg'd graduates who but lately was exposing himself weekly in the scurrile undergraduate pamphlets; whereby, without doubt, he now holds himself qualified to come back from Denmark and declare to us poor blind moles the new saving doctrine of faith and new rules of morality and the right ordering of society.
'Tis said in the publick prints that there has been some dissension among the troupe, the young sparks being more excited by what they have seen than the old senatours, and all agog to introduce the same freedom amongst us, so that we too may have whipping-shops and what not in publick places; but others say that this dissension is but a politick device, so that they may all sell their several narrations to distinct journals, and so ensure that none of 'em starve, either for pence or for publick notoriety.
As for his Lordship, we must doubtless await his conclusions till he has conferred with his ghostly confessors at Farm Street and elsewhere, and they have together fondled the pictures and other reliques which he has brought back with him for private research (as he says); which pictures (if we may believe a knowing friend in her Majesty's Customs-house) are a vast improvement, as to both detail and liveliness, on those old unrefin'd prints of Aretine his Postures. But to the pure all things are pure. What they will conclude thence, I know not, not being of their privy councill; but if his present Holiness do but persevere in his course of casting away the lumber of tradition, and outstripping the infidels in the race to modernity, I shall expect to see all those pictures exactly wrought in stained-glass in their cathedrals, and their liturgy revis'd accordingly, and those postures to be assumed before the altar, coram poputo, without vestments or other incumbrance to the sacred action. And if, as some say, his Lordship is soon to be canoniz'd, or at least beatified (which all his friends must hope, for he has a seraphicall countenance, very vendible in plaster or terra cotta), doubtless the merchants in that Danish industry, who have so profited by his visit, will be the first to press his claims, and the most like to be heard, as authentick witnesses of his miracles.
Meanwhile I have not forgot your earnest request for a brief account of our great wit and scholar, Sir Maurice Bowra, late Warden of Wadham coll., who suddenly deceas'd, to our unspeakable grief, on 4th July last. His loss is indeed irreparable, and gladly would I do justice to so great an ornament, and ruler, of our society. But for that I must pray you to await my return to Oxon, whence I shall write to you again. For I am at present bury'd in the country, in Herefordshire, where I ordinarily go at this season to stay with my old fellow-collegian Canon Goosegrass, who commands my time in the fruitcage by day, and at the card-table by night. For the same reason I was unable to attend the great church-service at St Mary's Oxon, in memory of the deceas'd, which I much regret; for I hear 'twas a grand affair, with a vast concourse of friends, and a graceful eulogy by our other great wit, Sir Esay Berlin, now Master of Wolfson coll., and (above all) a very solemn entry by Professor Dr Dame Helen Gardner, who drove to the church door alone in a coach-and-six, with postillions and outriders, and drew, for that moment. all thoughts from the defunct to herself.
'Tis said that the organist was so overcome by the majesty of that entry that he brake off his occasional musick and strook up instead Mynheer Handel's Arrival of the Queen of Sheba. `Tis a great thing to be a Dame: non cuivis honrinum, etc. etc. But the canon calls for his game of picquet and I must break off too, hastily subscribing myself
your loving friend Mercurius Oxoniensis P.S. I hear that my old friend PorcusPiscis is cavorting again in the publick prints. You must forgive me if I venture not near that little coll. of his (though I could give you some tasty scraps of news thence, if I would). I have no wish to be soused by the thrashing of that plump tail in so small a pond.
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