The Spectator, Volumes 1, 2 and 3
by
Joseph Addison and Richard Steele
Part 44 out of 51
of the Body, begins to reason like her self, and to discourse in a
strain above Mortality.'
We may likewise observe in the third Place, that the Passions affect the
Mind with greater Strength when we are asleep, than when we are awake.
Joy and Sorrow give us more vigorous Sensations of Pain or Pleasure at
this time, than at any other. Devotion likewise, as the excellent Author
above-mentioned has hinted, is in a very particular manner heightned and
inflamed, when it rises in the Soul at a time that the Body is thus laid
at Rest. Every Man's Experience will inform him in this matter, though
it is very probable, that this may happen differently, in different
Constitutions. I shall conclude this Head with the two following
Problems, which I shall leave to the Solution of my Reader. Supposing a
Man always happy in his Dreams, and miserable in his waking Thoughts,
and that his Life was equally divided between them, whether would he be
more happy or miserable? Were a Man a King in his Dreams, and a Beggar
awake, and dreamt as consequentially, and in as continued unbroken
Schemes as he thinks when awake, whether he would be in reality a King
or Beggar, or rather whether he would not be both?
There is another Circumstance, which methinks gives us a very high Idea
of the Nature of the Soul, in regard to what passes in Dreams, I mean
that innumerable Multitude and Variety of Ideas which then arise in her.
Were that active watchful Being only conscious of her own Existence at
such a time, what a painful Solitude would her Hours of Sleep be? Were
the Soul sensible of her being alone in her sleeping Moments, after the
same manner that she is sensible of it while awake, the time would hang
very heavy on her, as it often actually does when she Dreams that she is
in such a Solitude?
'--Semperque relinqui
Sola sili, semper longam incomitata videtur
Ire viam--'
Virg.
But this Observation I only make by the way. What I would here remark,
is that wonderful Power in the Soul, of producing her own Company on
these Occasions. She converses with numberless Beings of her own
Creation, and is transported into ten thousand Scenes of her own
raising. She is herself the Theatre, the Actors, and the Beholder. This
puts me in mind of a Saying which I am infinitely pleased with, and
which _Plutarch_ ascribes to _Heraclitus, That all Men whilst they are
awake are in one common World; but that each of them, when he is asleep,
is in a World of his own_. [2] The waking Man is conversant in the World
of Nature, when he sleeps he retires to a private World that is
particular to himself. There seems something in this Consideration that
intimates to us a natural Grandeur and Perfection in the Soul, which is
rather to be admired than explained.
I must not omit that Argument for the Excellency of the Soul, which I
have seen quoted out of _Tertullian_, [3] namely, its Power of divining
in Dreams. That several such Divinations have been made, none can
question, who believes the Holy Writings, or who has but the least
degree of a common Historical Faith; there being innumerable Instances
of this nature in several Authors, both Antient and Modern, Sacred and
Profane. Whether such dark Presages, such Visions of the Night proceed
from any latent Power in the Soul, during this her state of Abstraction,
or from any Communication with the Supreme Being, or from any operation
of Subordinate Spirits, has been a great Dispute among the Learned; the
matter of Fact is, I think, incontestable, and has been looked upon as
such by the greatest Writers, who have been never suspected either of
Superstition or Enthusiasm.
I do not suppose, that the Soul in these Instances is entirely loose and
unfettered from the Body: It is sufficient, if she is not so far sunk,
and immersed in Matter, nor intangled and perplexed in her Operations,
with such Motions of Blood and Spirits, as when she actuates the Machine
in its waking Hours. The Corporeal Union is slackned enough to give the
Mind more Play. The Soul seems gathered within herself, and recovers
that Spring which is broke and weakned, when she operates more in
concert with the Body.
The Speculations I have here made, if they are not Arguments, they are
at least strong Intimations, not only of the Excellency of an Human
Soul, but of its Independence on the Body; and if they do not prove, do
at least confirm these two great Points, which are established by many
other Reasons that are altogether unanswerable.
O.
[Footnote 1: Part ii. Sec. 11.]
[Footnote 2: The reference is in the little book 'On Superstition,'
where Plutarch quotes Heraclitus to add this comment of his own:
'But to the superstitious man there is no common world, for neither
does he use right reason when awake, nor is he freed, when sleeping,
from his perturbations.']
[Footnote 3: Tertullian, in his book 'On the Soul,' has seven chapters
(43-49) on Sleep and Dreams, with abundant recognition of divine
communications to the soul in sleep, and quotations of several authors,
sacred and profane.]
* * * * *
No. 488. Friday, September 19, 1712. Addison.
'Quanti emptae? parvi. Quanti ergo? octo assibus. Eheu!'
Hor.
I find, by several Letters which I receive daily, that many of my
Readers would be better pleased to pay Three Half-Pence for my Paper,
than Two-Pence. The ingenious _T. W._ tells me, that I have deprived him
of the best Part of his Breakfast, for that since the rise of my Paper,
he is forced every Morning to drink his Dish of Coffee by it self,
without the Addition of the _Spectator_, that used to be better than
Lace to it. _Eugenius_ informs me very obligingly, that he never thought
he should have disliked any Passage in my Paper, but that of late there
have been two Words in every one of them, which he could heartily wish
left out, _viz. Price Two-Pence_. I have a Letter from a Soap-boiler,
who condoles with me very affectionately, upon the necessity we both lie
under of setting an higher Price on our Commodities, since the late Tax
has been laid upon them, and desiring me, when I write next on that
Subject, to speak a Word or two upon the present Duties on Castile-Soap.
But there is none of these my Correspondents, who writes with a greater
Turn of good Sense and Elegance of Expression, than the generous
_Philomedes_, who advises me to value every _Spectator_ at Six Pence,
and promises that he himself will engage for above a Hundred of his
Acquaintance, who shall take it in at that Price.
Letters from the Female World are likewise come to me, in great
quantities, upon the same Occasion; and as I naturally bear a great
Deference to this Part of our Species, I am very glad to find that those
who approve my Conduct in this Particular, are much more numerous than
those who condemn it. A large Family of Daughters have drawn me up a
very handsome Remonstrance, in which they set forth, that their Father
having refused to take in the _Spectator_, since the additional Price
was set upon it, they offered him unanimously to bate him the Article of
Bread and Butter in the Tea-Table Account, provided the _Spectator_
might be served up to them every Morning as usual. Upon this the old
Gentleman, being pleased, it seems, with their Desire of improving
themselves, has granted them the continuance both of the _Spectator_ and
their Bread and Butter; having given particular Orders, that the
Tea-Table shall be set forth every Morning with its Customary Bill of
Fare, and without any manner of Defalcation. I thought my self obliged
to mention this Particular, as it does Honour to this worthy Gentleman;
and if the young Lady _Laetitia_, who sent me this Account, will acquaint
me with his Name, I will insert it at length in one of my Papers, if he
desires it.
I should be very glad to find out any Expedient that might alleviate the
Expence which this my Paper brings to any of my Readers; and, in order
to it, must propose two Points to their Consideration. First, that if
they retrench any the smallest Particular in their ordinary Expence, it
will easily make up the Half Penny a Day, which we have now under
Consideration. Let a Lady sacrifice but a single Ribband to her Morning
Studies, and it will be sufficient: Let a Family burn but a Candle a
Night less than the usual Number, and they may take in the _Spectator_
without Detriment to their private Affairs.
In the next Place, if my Readers will not go to the Price of buying my
Papers by Retail, let them have Patience, and they may buy them in the
Lump, without the Burthen of a Tax upon them. My Speculations, when they
are sold single, like Cherries upon the Stick, are Delights for the Rich
and Wealthy; after some time they come to Market in greater Quantities,
and are every ordinary Man's Money. The Truth of it is, they have a
certain Flavour at their first Appearance, from several accidental
Circumstances of Time, Place and Person, which they may lose if they are
not taken early; but in this case every Reader is to consider, whether
it is not better for him to be half a Year behind-hand with the
fashionable and polite part of the World, than to strain himself beyond
his Circumstances. My Bookseller has now about Ten Thousand of the Third
and Fourth Volumes, which he is ready to publish, having already
disposed of as large an Edition both of the First and Second Volume. As
he is a Person whose Head is very well turned to his Business, he thinks
they would be a very proper Present to be made to Persons at
Christenings, Marriages, Visiting-Days, and the like joyful Solemnities,
as several other Books are frequently given at Funerals. He has printed
them in such a little portable Volume, that many of them may be ranged
together upon a single Plate; and is of Opinion, that a Salver of
_Spectators_ would be as acceptable an Entertainment to the Ladies, as a
Salver of Sweetmeats.
I shall conclude this Paper with an Epigram lately sent to the Writer of
the _Spectator_, after having returned my Thanks to the ingenious Author
of it.
_SIR,_
'Having heard the following Epigram very much commended, I wonder that
it has not yet had a place in any of your Papers: I think the Suffrage
of our Poet Laureat should not be overlooked, which shews the Opinion
he entertains of your Paper, whether the Notion he proceeds upon be
true or false. I make bold to convey it to you, not knowing if it has
yet come to your Hands.
_On the_ SPECTATOR.
By Mr. _TATE_. [1]
--Aliusque et idem
Nasceris--
Hor.
'When first the_ Tatler _to a Mute was turn'd_,
Great Britain _for her Censor's Silence mourn'd.
Robb'd of his sprightly Beams, she wept the Night,
'Till the _Spectator_ rose, and blaz'd as bright.
So the first Man the Sun's first Setting view'd,
And sigh'd, till circling Day his Joys renew'd;
Yet doubtful how that second Sun to name,
Whether a bright Successor, or the same.
So we: but now from this Suspense are freed,
Since all agree, who both with Judgment read,
'Tis the same Sun, and does himself succeed.'
O.
[Footnote 1: Nahum Tate, born and educated at Dublin, and befriended in
his youth by Dryden and Dorset, was at this time 60 years old, and
poet-laureate, having in 1692 succeeded in that office Thomas Shadwell,
the Whig substitute for Dryden. Besides his version of the Psalms
produced in concert with his friend Dr. Nicholas Brady, Tate produced
his own notion of an improvement upon Shakespeare's King Lear and nine
dramatic pieces, with other poetry, of which the above lines are a
specimen. Tate was in his younger days the writer of the second part of
Dryden's 'Absalom and Achithophel,' to which Dryden himself contributed
only the characters of Julian Johnson as Ben Jochanan, of Shadwell as
Og, and of Settle as Doeg. His salary as poet-laureate was L100 a year,
and a butt of canary. He died three years after the date of this
_Spectator_ a poor man who had made his home in the Mint to escape his
creditors.]
* * * * *
No. 489. Saturday, September 20, 1712. Addison.
[Greek: Bathyrrheitao mega sthenos 'Okeaneio]--Hom.
SIR,
Upon reading your _Essay_ concerning the Pleasures of the Imagination,
I find, among the three Sources of those Pleasures which you have
discovered, [that] _Greatness_ is one. This has suggested to me the
reason why, of all Objects that I have ever seen, there is none which
affects my Imagination so much as the Sea or Ocean. I cannot see the
Heavings of this prodigious Bulk of Waters, even in a Calm, without a
very pleasing Astonishment; but when it is worked up in a Tempest, so
that the Horizon on every side is nothing but foaming Billows and
floating Mountains, it is impossible to describe the agreeable Horrour
that rises from such a Prospect. A troubled Ocean, to a Man who sails
upon it, is, I think, the biggest Object that he can see in motion,
and consequently gives his Imagination one of the highest kinds of
Pleasure that can arise from Greatness. I must confess, it is
impossible for me to survey this World of fluid Matter, without
thinking on the Hand that first poured it out, and made a proper
Channel for its Reception. Such an Object naturally raises in my
Thoughts the Idea of an Almighty Being, and convinces me of his
Existence as much as a metaphysical Demonstration. The Imagination
prompts the Understanding, and by the Greatness of the sensible
Object, produces in it the Idea of a Being who is neither
circumscribed by Time nor Space.
As I have made several Voyages upon the Sea, I have often been tossed
in Storms, and on that occasion have frequently reflected on the
Descriptions of them in ancient Poets. I remember _Longinus_ highly
recommends one in _Homer_, because the Poet has not amused himself
with little Fancies upon the occasion, as Authors of an inferiour
Genius, whom he mentions, had done, but because he has gathered
together those Circumstances which are the most apt to terrify the
Imagination, and which really happen in the raging of a Tempest. [1]
It is for the same reason, that I prefer the following Description of
a Ship in a Storm, which the Psalmist has made, before any other I
have ever met with.
'They that go down to the Sea in Ships, that do Business in great
Waters: These see the Works of the Lord, and his Wonders in the
Deep. For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy Wind, which lifteth
up the Waters thereof. They mount up to the Heaven, they go down
again to the Depths, their Soul is melted because of Trouble. They
reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken Man, and are at their
Wits End. Then they cry unto the Lord in their Trouble, and he
bringeth them out of their Distresses. He maketh the Storm a Calm,
so that the Waves thereof are still. Then they are glad because they
be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their desired Haven.' [2]
By the way, how much more comfortable, as well as rational, is this
System of the Psalmist, than the Pagan Scheme in _Virgil_, and other
Poets, where one Deity is represented as raising a Storm, and another
as laying it? Were we only to consider the Sublime in this Piece of
Poetry, what can be nobler than the Idea it gives us of the Supreme
Being thus raising the Tumult among the Elements, and recovering them
out of their Confusion; thus troubling and becalming Nature?
Great Painters do not only give us Landskips of Gardens, Groves, and
Meadows, but very often employ their Pencils upon Sea-Pieces: I could
wish you would follow their Example. If this small Sketch may deserve
a Place among your Works, I shall accompany it with a divine Ode, made
by a Gentleman [3] upon the Conclusion of his Travels.
I. How are thy Servants blest, O Lord!
How sure is their Defence!
Eternal Wisdom is their Guide,
Their Help Omnipotence.
II. In foreign Realms, and Lands remote,
Supported by thy Care,
Thro' burning Climes I pass'd unhurt,
And breath'd in tainted Air.
III. Thy Mercy sweeten'd ev'ry Soil,
Made ev'ry Region please;
The hoary Alpine Hills it warm'd,
And smooth'd the Tyrrhene Seas:
IV. Think, O my Soul, devoutly think,
How with affrighted Eyes
Thou saw'st the wide extended Deep
In all its Horrors rise!
V. Confusion dwelt in ev'ry Face,
And Fear in ev'ry Heart;
When Waves on Waves, and Gulphs in Gulphs,
O'ercame the Pilot's Art.
VI. Yet then from all my Griefs, O Lord,
Thy Mercy set me free,
Whilst in the Confidence of Pray'r
My Soul took hold on thee;
VII. For tho' in dreadful Whirles we hung
High on the broken Wave,
I knew thou wert not slow to Hear,
Nor impotent to Save.
VIII. The Storm was laid, the Winds retir'd,
Obedient to thy Will;
The Sea that roar'd at thy Command,
At thy Command was still.
IX. In midst of Dangers, Fears and Death,
Thy Goodness I'll adore,
And praise Thee for Thy Mercies past;
And humbly hope for more.
X. My Life, if thou preserv'st my Life,
Thy Sacrifice shall be;
And Death, if Death must be my Doom,
Shall join my Soul to thee.
O. [4]
[Footnote 1: On the Sublime, Sec. 10, where he compares a description of
the terrors of the sea in a lost poem on the Arimaspians, by Aristaeus
the Procomnesian, with the passage in the 15th Book of the Iliad, which
Pope thus translates:
'He bursts upon them all:
Bursts as a wave that from the cloud impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud:
Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears,
And instant death on every wave appears.']
[Footnote 2: Psalm cvii. 23-30.]
[Footnote 3: Addison.]
[Footnote 4: Appended to this number is the following
ADVERTISEMENT.
The Author of the_ SPECTATOR _having received the Pastoral Hymn in his
441st Paper, set to Musick by one of the most Eminent Composers of our
own Country and by a Foreigner, who has not put his name to his
ingenious Letter, thinks himself obliged to return his thanks to those
Gentlemen for the Honour they have done him.]
* * * * *
No. 490. Monday, September 22, 1712. Steele.
'Domus et placens Uxor.'
Hor.
I have very long entertain'd an Ambition to make the Word _Wife_ the
most agreeable and delightful Name in Nature. If it be not so in it
self, all the wiser Part of Mankind from the Beginning of the World to
this Day has consented in an Error: But our Unhappiness in _England_ has
been, that a few loose Men of Genius for Pleasure, have turn'd it all to
the Gratification of ungovern'd Desires, in spite of good Sense, Form
and Order; when, in truth, any Satisfaction beyond the Boundaries of
Reason, is but a Step towards Madness and Folly. But is the Sense of Joy
and Accomplishment of Desire no way to be indulged or attain'd? and have
we Appetites given us not to be at all gratify'd? Yes certainly.
Marriage is an Institution calculated for a constant Scene of as much
Delight as our Being is capable of. Two Persons who have chosen each
other out of all the Species, with design to be each other's mutual
Comfort and Entertainment, have in that Action bound themselves to be
good-humour'd, affable, discreet, forgiving, patient and joyful, with
respect to each other's Frailties and Perfections, to the End of their
Lives. The wiser of the two (and it always happens one of them is such)
will for her or his own sake, keep things from Outrage with the utmost
Sanctity. When this Union is thus preserved (as I have often said) the
most indifferent Circumstance administers Delight. Their Condition is an
endless Source of new Gratifications. The married Man can say, If I am
unacceptable to all the World beside, there is one whom I entirely love,
that will receive me with Joy and Transport, and think herself obliged
to double her Kindness and Caresses of me from the Gloom with which she
sees me overcast. I need not dissemble the Sorrow of my Heart to be
agreeable there, that very Sorrow quickens her Affection.
This Passion towards each other, when once well fixed, enters into the
very Constitution, and the Kindness flows as easily and silently as the
Blood in the Veins. When this Affection is enjoy'd in the most sublime
Degree, unskilful Eyes see nothing of it; but when it is subject to be
chang'd, and has an Allay in it that may make it end in Distaste, it is
apt to break into Rage, or overflow into Fondness, before the rest of
the World.
_Uxander_ and _Viramira_ are amorous and young, and have been married
these two Years; yet do they so much distinguish each other in Company,
that in your Conversation with the Dear Things you are still put to a
Sort of Cross-Purposes. Whenever you address your self in ordinary
Discourse to _Viramira_, she turns her Head another way, and the Answer
is made to the dear _Uxander_: If you tell a merry Tale, the Application
is still directed to her Dear; and when she should commend you, she says
to him, as if he had spoke it, That is, my Dear, so pretty--This puts
me in mind of what I have somewhere read in the admired Memoirs of the
famous _Cervantes_, where, while honest _Sancho Panca_ is putting some
necessary humble Question concerning _Rozinante_, his Supper, or his
Lodgings, the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance is ever improving the
harmless lowly Hints of his Squire to the poetical Conceit, Rapture and
Flight, in Contemplation of the dear _Dulcinea_ of his Affections.
On the other side, _Dictamnus_ and _Moria_ are ever squabbling, and you
may observe them all the time they are in Company in a State of
Impatience. As _Uxander_ and _Viramira_ wish you all gone, that they may
be at freedom for Dalliance; _Dictamnus_ and _Moria_ wait your Absence,
that they may speak their harsh Interpretations on each other's Words
and Actions during the time you were with them.
It is certain that the greater Part of the Evils attending this
Condition of Life, arises from Fashion. Prejudice in this Case is turn'd
the wrong way, and instead of expecting more Happiness than we shall
meet with in it, we are laugh'd into a Prepossession, that we shall be
disappointed if we hope for lasting Satisfactions.
With all Persons who have made good Sense the Rule of Action, Marriage
is describ'd as the State capable of the highest human Felicity. _Tully_
has Epistles full of affectionate Pleasure, when he writes to his Wife,
or speaks of his Children. But above all the Hints of this kind I have
met with in Writers of ancient date, I am pleas'd with an Epigram of
_Martial_ [1] in honour of the Beauty of his Wife _Cleopatra_.
Commentators say it was written the day after his Wedding-Night. When
his Spouse was retir'd to the Bathing-room in the Heat of the Day, he,
it seems, came in upon her when she was just going into the Water. To
her Beauty and Carriage on this occasion we owe the following Epigram,
which I shew'd my Friend WILL. HONEYCOMB in _French_, who has translated
it as follows, without understanding the Original. I expect it will
please the _English_ better than the _Latin_ Reader.
'When my bright Consort, now nor Wife nor Maid,
Asham'd and wanton, of Embrace afraid,
Fled to the Streams, the Streams my Fair betray'd;
To my fond Eyes she all transparent stood,
She blush'd, I smil'd at the slight covering Flood.
Thus thro' the Glass the Lovely Lilly glows,
Thus thro' the ambient Gem shines forth the Rose.
I saw new Charms, and plung'd to seize my Store,
Kisses I snatch'd, the Waves prevented more.'
My Friend would not allow that this luscious Account could be given of a
Wife, and therefore used the Word _Consort_; which, he learnedly said,
would serve for a Mistress as well, and give a more Gentlemanly Turn to
the Epigram. But, under favour of him and all other such fine Gentlemen,
I cannot be persuaded but that the Passion a Bridegroom has for a
virtuous young Woman, will, by little and little, grow into Friendship,
and then it is ascended to [a [2]] higher Pleasure than it was in its
first Fervour. Without this happens, he is a very unfortunate Man who
has enter'd into this State, and left the Habitudes of Life he might
have enjoy'd with a faithful Friend. But when the Wife proves capable of
filling serious as well as joyous Hours, she brings Happiness unknown to
Friendship itself. _Spencer_ speaks of each kind of Love with great
Justice, and attributes the highest Praise to Friendship; and indeed
there is no disputing that Point, but by making that Friendship take
[Place [3]] between two married Persons.
'Hard is the Doubt, and difficult to deem,
When all three kinds of Love together meet,
And to dispart the Heart with Power extreme,
Whether shall weigh the Ballance down; to wit,
The dear Affection unto Kindred sweet,
Or raging Fire of Love to Womenkind,
Or Zeal of Friends combin'd by Virtues meet.
But, of them all, the Band of virtuous Mind
Methinks the gentle Heart should most assured bind.
For natural Affection soon doth cease,
And quenched is with_ Cupid's _greater Flame;
But faithful Friendship doth them both suppress,
And them with mastering Discipline does tame,
Through Thoughts aspiring to eternal Fame.
For as the Soul doth rule the Earthly Mass,
And all the Service of the Body frame;
So Love of Soul doth Love of Body pass,
No less than perfect Gold surmounts the meanest Brass.'
T.
[Footnote 1: Lib. iv. ep. 22.]
[Footnote 2: an]
[Footnote 3: its Place]
* * * * *
No. 491. Tuesday, September 23, 1712. Steele.
'Digna satis fortuna revisit.'
Virg.
It is common with me to run from Book to Book to exercise my Mind with
many Objects, and qualify my self for my daily Labours. After an Hour
spent in this loitering Way of Reading, something will remain to be Food
to the Imagination. The Writings that please me most on such Occasions
are Stories, for the Truth of which there is good Authority. The Mind of
Man is naturally a Lover of Justice, and when we read a Story wherein a
Criminal is overtaken, in whom there is no Quality which is the Object
of Pity, the Soul enjoys a certain Revenge for the Offence done to its
Nature, in the wicked Actions committed in the preceding Part of the
History. This will be better understood by the Reader from the following
Narration [1] it self, than from any thing which I can say to introduce
it.
When _Charles_ Duke of _Burgundy_, surnamed _The Bold_, reigned over
spacious Dominions now swallowed up by the Power of _France_, he heaped
many Favours and Honours upon _Claudius Rhynsault_, a _German_, who had
serv'd him in his Wars against the Insults of his Neighbours. A great
part of _Zealand_ was at that time in Subjection to that Dukedom. The
Prince himself was a Person of singular Humanity and Justice.
_Rhynsault_, with no other real Quality than Courage, had Dissimulation
enough to pass upon his generous and unsuspicious Master for a Person of
blunt Honesty and Fidelity, without any Vice that could bias him from
the Execution of Justice. His Highness prepossessed to his Advantage,
upon the Decease of the Governour of his chief Town of _Zealand_, gave
_Rhynsault_ that Command. He was not long seated in that Government,
before he cast his Eyes upon _Sapphira_, a Woman of Exquisite Beauty,
the Wife of _Paul Danvelt_, a wealthy Merchant of the City under his
Protection and Government. _Rhynsault_ was a Man of a warm Constitution,
and violent Inclination to Women, and not unskilled in the soft Arts
which win their Favour. He knew what it was to enjoy the Satisfactions
which are reaped from the Possession of Beauty, but was an utter
Stranger to the Decencies, Honours and Delicacies that attend the
Passion towards them in elegant Minds. However he had so much of the
World, that he had a great share of the Language which usually prevails
upon the weaker Part of that Sex, and he could with his Tongue utter a
Passion with which his Heart was wholly untouch'd. He was one of those
brutal Minds which can be gratified with the Violation of Innocence and
Beauty, without the least Pity, Passion or Love to that with which they
are so much delighted. Ingratitude is a Vice inseparable to a lustful
Man; and the Possession of a Woman by him who has no thought but
allaying a Passion painful to himself, is necessarily followed by
Distaste and Aversion. _Rhynsault_ being resolv'd to accomplish his Will
on the Wife of _Danvelt_, left no Arts untried to get into a Familiarity
at her House; but she knew his Character and Disposition too well, not
to shun all Occasions that might ensnare her into his Conversation. The
Governor despairing of Success by ordinary Means, apprehended and
Imprisoned her Husband, under pretence of an Information that he was
guilty of a Correspondence with the Enemies of the Duke, to betray the
Town into their Possession. This Design had its desired Effect; and the
Wife of the unfortunate _Danvelt_, the day before that which was
appointed for his Execution, presented herself in the Hall of the
Governor's House, and as he pass'd thro' the Apartment, threw her self
at his Feet, and holding his Knees, beseeched his Mercy. _Rhynsault_
beheld her with a dissembled Satisfaction, and assuming an Air of
Thought and Authority, he bid her arise, and told her she must follow
him to his Closet; and asking her whether she knew the Hand of the
Letter he pulled out of his Pocket, went from her, leaving this
Admonition aloud, _If you will save your Husband, you must give me an
account of all you know without Prevarication; for every body is
satisfied he was too fond of you to be able to hide from you the Names
of the rest of the Conspirators, or any other Particulars whatsoever_.
He went to his Closet, and soon after the Lady was sent to for an
Audience. The Servant knew his distance when Matters of State were to be
debated; and the Governor, laying aside the Air with which he had
appear'd in publick, began to be the Supplicant, to rally an Affliction,
which it was in her Power easily to remove, and relieve an innocent Man
from his Imprisonment. She easily perceiv'd his Intention, and, bathed
in Tears, began to deprecate so wicked a Design. Lust, like Ambition,
takes all the Faculties of the Mind and Body into its Service and
Subjection. Her becoming Tears, her honest Anguish, the wringing of her
Hands, and the many Changes of her Posture and Figure in the Vehemence
of speaking, were but so many Attitudes in which he beheld her Beauty,
and further Incentives of his Desire. All Humanity was lost in that one
Appetite, and he signified to her in so many plain Terms, that he was
unhappy till he had possess'd her, and nothing less shou'd be the Price
of her Husband's Life; and she must, before the following Noon,
pronounce the Death or Enlargement of _Danvelt_. After this
Notification, when he saw _Sapphira_ enough again distracted to make the
Subject of their Discourse to common Eyes appear different from what it
was, he called Servants to conduct her to the Gate. Loaded with
insupportable Affliction, she immediately repairs to her Husband, and
having signified to his Gaolers, that she had a Proposal to make to her
Husband from the Governor, she was left alone with him, reveal'd to him
all that had pass'd, and represented the endless Conflict she was in
between Love to his Person, and Fidelity to his Bed. It is easie to
imagine the sharp Affliction this honest Pair was in upon such an
Incident, in Lives not us'd to any but ordinary Occurrences. The Man was
bridled by Shame from speaking what his Fear prompted, upon so near an
approach of Death; but let fall Words that signify'd to her, he should
not think her polluted, though she had not yet confess'd to him that the
Governor had violated her Person, since he knew her Will had no part in
the Action. She parted from him with this oblique Permission to save a
Life he had not Resolution enough to resign for the safety of his
Honour.
The next Morning the unhappy _Sapphira_ attended the Governor, and being
led into a remote Apartment, submitted to his Desires. _Rhynsault_
commended her Charms, claim'd a Familiarity after what had pass'd
between them, and with an Air of Gaiety in the Language of a Gallant,
bid her return, and take her Husband out of Prison: But, continu'd he,
my Fair one must not be offended that I have taken care he should not be
an Interruption to our future Assignations. These last Words foreboded
what she found when she came to the Gaol, her Husband executed by the
Order of _Rhynsault._
It was remarkable that the Woman, who was full of Tears and Lamentations
during the whole Course of her Affliction, uttered neither Sigh nor
Complaint, but stood fix'd with Grief at this Consummation of her
Misfortunes. She betook herself to her abode, and after having in
Solitude paid her Devotions to him who is the Avenger of Innocence, she
repair'd privately to Court. Her Person and a certain Grandeur of Sorrow
negligent of Forms gain'd her Passage into the Presence of the Duke her
Sovereign. As soon as she came into the Presence, she broke forth into
the following words, _Behold, O mighty_ Charles, _a Wretch weary of
Life, though it has always been spent with Innocence and Virtue. It is
not in your power to redress my Injuries, but it is to avenge them. And
if the Protection of the Distress'd, and the Punishment of Oppressors,
is a Task worthy a Prince, I bring the Duke of_ Burgundy _ample matter
for doing Honour to his own great Name, and wiping Infamy off of mine._
When she had spoke this, she deliver'd the Duke a Paper reciting her
Story. He read it with all the Emotions that Indignation and Pity could
raise in a Prince jealous of his Honour in the Behaviour of his
Officers, and Prosperity of his Subjects.
Upon an appointed Day, _Rhynsault_ was sent for to Court, and in the
Presence of a few of the Council, confronted by _Sapphira_: the Prince
asking, _Do you know that Lady? Rhynsault_, as soon as he could recover
his Surprize, told the Duke he would marry her, if his Highness would
please to think that a Reparation. The Duke seem'd contented with this
Answer, and stood by during the immediate Solemnization of the Ceremony.
At the Conclusion of it he told _Rhynsault, Thus far have you done as
constrain'd by my Authority: I shall not be satisfied of your kind Usage
of her, without you sign a Gift of your whole Estate to her after your
Decease_. To the Performance of this also the Duke was a Witness. When
these two Acts were executed, the Duke turn'd to the Lady, and told her,
it now remains for me to put you in quiet Possession of what your
Husband has so bountifully bestow'd on you; and order'd the immediate
Execution of _Rhynsault_.
T.
[Footnote 1: Founded upon note N to the Memoir of Charles of Burgundy in
Bayle's Dictionary, where the authorities cited are Pontus Heuterus and
others. It is not in Comines.]
* * * * *
No. 492. Wednesday, September 24, 1712. Steele.
'Quicquid est boni moris Levitate extinguiter.'
Sen.
_Tunbridge, Sept. 18._
_Dear Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'I am a young Woman of Eighteen Years of Age, and, I do assure you, a
Maid of unspotted Reputation, founded upon a very careful Carriage in
all my Looks, Words and Actions. At the same time I must own to you,
that it is with much constraint to Flesh and Blood that my Behaviour
is so strictly irreproachable; for I am naturally addicted to Mirth,
to Gaiety, to a Free Air, to Motion and Gadding. Now what gives me a
great deal of Anxiety, and is some Discouragement in the Pursuit of
Virtue, is, that the young Women who run into greater Freedoms with
the Men are more taken Notice of than I am. The Men are such
unthinking Sots, that they do not prefer her who restrains all her
Passions and Affections and keeps much within the Bounds of what is
lawful, to her who goes to the utmost Verge of Innocence, and parlies
at the very Brink of Vice, whether she shall be a Wife or a Mistress.
But I must appeal to your Spectatorial Wisdom, who, I find, have
passed very much of your Time in the Study of Woman, whether this is
not a most unreasonable Proceeding. I have read somewhere, that
_Hobbes_ of _Malmesbury_ asserts, that continent Persons have more of
what they contain, than those who give a loose to their Desires.
According to this Rule, let there be equal Age, equal Wit, and equal
Good-Humour, in the Woman of Prudence, and her of Liberty; what Stores
has he to expect, who takes the former? What Refuse must he be
contented with, who chuses the latter? Well, but I sate down to write
to you to vent my Indignation against several pert Creatures who are
address'd to and courted in this Place, while poor I, and two or three
like me, are wholly unregarded.
Every one of these affect gaining the Hearts of your Sex: This is
generally attempted by a particular manner of carrying themselves with
Familiarity. _Glycera_ has a dancing Walk, and keeps Time in her
ordinary Gate. _Chloe_, her Sister, who is unwilling to interrupt her
Conquests, comes into the Room before her with a familiar Run.
_Dulcissa_ takes Advantage of the Approach of the Winter, and has
introduc'd a very pretty Shiver; closing up her Shoulders, and
shrinking as she moves. All that are in this Mode carry their Fans
between both Hands before them. _Dulcissa_ herself, who is Author of
this Air, adds the pretty Run to it; and has also, when she is in very
good Humour, a taking Familiarity in throwing herself into the lowest
Seat in the Room, and letting her hoop'd Petticoats fall with a lucky
Decency about her. I know she practices this way of sitting down in
her Chamber; and indeed she does it as well as you may have seen an
Actress fall down dead in a Tragedy. Not the least Indecency in her
Posture. If you have observ'd what pretty Carcasses are carry'd off at
the end of a Verse at the Theatre, it will give you a Notion how
_Dulcissa_ plumps into a Chair. Here's a little Country Girl that's
very cunning, that makes her use of being young and unbred, and
outdoes the Insnarers, who are almost twice her Age. The Air that she
takes is to come into Company after a Walk, and is very successfully
out of Breath upon occasion. Her Mother is in the Secret, and calls
her Romp, and then looks round to see what young Men stare at her.
'It would take up more than can come into one of your Papers, to
enumerate all the particular Airs of the younger Company in this
Place. But I cannot omit _Dulceorella_, whose manner is the most
indolent imaginable, but still as watchful of Conquest as the busiest
Virgin among us. She has a peculiar Art of staring at a young Fellow,
till she sees she has got him, and inflam'd him by so much
Observation. When she sees she has him, and he begins to toss his Head
upon it, she is immediately short-sighted, and labours to observe what
he is at a distance with her Eyes half shut. Thus the Captive, that
thought her first struck, is to make very near Approaches, or be
wholly disregarded. This Artifice has done more Execution than all the
ogling of the rest of the Women here, with the utmost Variety of half
Glances, attentive Heedlessnesses, childish Inadvertencies, haughty
Contempts, or artificial Oversights. After I have said thus much of
Ladies among us who fight thus regularly, I am to complain to you of a
Set of Familiar Romps, who have broken thro' all common Rules, and
have thought of a very effectual way of shewing more Charms than all
of us. These, Mr. SPECTATOR, are the Swingers. You are to know these
careless pretty Creatures are very Innocents again; and it is to be no
matter what they do, for 'tis all harmless Freedom. They get on Ropes,
as you must have seen the Children, and are swung by their Men
Visitants. The Jest is, that Mr. such a one can name the Colour of
Mrs. Such-a-one's Stockings; and she tells him, he is a lying Thief,
so he is, and full of Roguery; and she'll lay a Wager, and her Sister
shall tell the Truth if he says right, and he can't tell what Colour
her Garters are of. In this Diversion there are very many pretty
Shrieks, not so much for fear of falling, as that their Petticoats
shou'd untye: For there is a great care had to avoid Improprieties;
and the Lover who swings the Lady, is to tye her Clothes very close
with his Hatband, before she admits him to throw up her Heels.
'Now, _Mr_. SPECTATOR, except you can note these Wantonnesses in their
Beginnings, and bring us sober Girls into Observation, there is no
help for it, we must swim with the Tide; the Coquets are too powerful
a Party for us. To look into the Merit of a regular and well-behav'd
Woman, is a slow thing. A loose trivial Song gains the Affections,
when a wise Homily is not attended to. There is no other way but to
make war upon them, or we must go over to them. As for my Part, I will
shew all the World it is not for want of Charms that I stand so long
unasked; and if you do not take measures for the immediate Redress of
us Rigids, as the Fellows call us, I can move with a speaking Mien,
can look significantly, can lisp, can trip, can loll, can start, can
blush, can rage, can weep, if I must do it, and can be frighted as
agreeably as any She in _England_. All which is humbly submitted to
your Spectatorial Consideration with all Humility, by
_Your most humble Servant_,
Matilda Mohair.
T.
* * * * *
No. 493. Thursday, September 25, 1712. Steele.
'Qualem commendes etiam atque etiam adspice, ne mox
Incutiant aliena tibi peccata pudorem.'
Hor.
It is no unpleasant matter of Speculation to consider the recommendatory
Epistles that pass round this Town from Hand to Hand, and the abuse
People put upon one another in that kind. It is indeed come to that
pass, that instead of being the Testimony of Merit in the Person
recommended, the true reading of a Letter of this sort is,
'The Bearer hereof is so uneasie to me, that it will be an Act of
Charity in you to take him off my Hands; whether you prefer him or
not, it is all one, for I have no manner of Kindness for him, or
Obligation to him or his; and do what you please as to that.'
As negligent as Men are in this respect, a point of Honour is concerned
in it; and there is nothing a Man should be more ashamed of, than
passing a worthless Creature into the Service or Interests of a Man who
has never injured you. The Women indeed are a little too keen in their
Resentments, to trespass often this Way: But you shall sometimes know
that the Mistress and the Maid shall quarrel, and give each other very
free Language, and at last the Lady shall be pacified to turn her out of
Doors, and give her a very good Word to any body else. Hence it is that
you see, in a Year and Half's time, the same Face a Domestick in all
parts of the Town. Good-breeding and Good-nature lead People in a great
Measure to this Injustice: When Suitors of no Consideration will have
Confidence enough to press upon their Superiors, those in Power are
tender of speaking the Exceptions they have against them, and are
mortgaged into Promises out of their Impatience of Importunity. In this
latter Case, it would be a very useful Enquiry to know the History of
Recommendations: There are, you must know, certain Abettors of this way
of Torment, who make it a Profession to manage the Affairs of
Candidates: These Gentlemen let out their Impudence to their Clients,
and supply any Defective Recommendation, by informing how such and such
a Man is to be attacked. They will tell you, get the least Scrap from
Mr. Such-a-one, and leave the rest to them. When one of these
Undertakers have your Business in hand, you may be sick, absent in Town
or Country, and the Patron shall be worried, or you prevail. I remember
to have been shewn a Gentleman some Years ago, who punish'd a whole
People for their Facility in giving their Credentials. This Person had
belonged to a Regiment which did Duty in the _West-Indies_, and by the
Mortality of the Place happened to be commanding Officer in the Colony.
He oppressed his Subjects with great frankness, till he became sensible
that he was heartily hated by every Man under his Command. When he had
carried his Point, to be thus detestable, in a pretended Fit of
Dishumour, and feigned Uneasiness of living where he found he was so
universally unacceptable, he communicated to the chief Inhabitants a
Design he had to return for _England_, provided they would give him
ample Testimonials of their Approbation. The Planters came into it to a
Man; and in proportion to his deserving the quite contrary, the Words
Justice, Generosity, and Courage, were inserted in his Commission, not
omitting the general Good-liking of People of all Conditions in the
Colony. The Gentleman returns for _England_, and within few Months after
came back to them their Governour on the Strength of their own
Testimonials.
Such a Rebuke as this cannot indeed happen to easy Recommenders, in the
ordinary course of things from one hand to another; but how would a Man
bear to have it said to him, the Person I took into Confidence on the
Credit you gave him, has proved false, unjust, and has not answered any
way the Character you gave me of him?
I cannot but conceive very good hopes of that Rake _Jack Toper_ of the
_Temple_, for an honest Scrupulousness in this Point. A Friend of his
meeting with a Servant that had formerly lived with _Jack_, and having a
mind to take him, sent to him to know what Faults the Fellow had, since
he could not please such a careless Fellow as he was. His Answer was as
follows:
_SIR_,
'Thomas that lived with me was turned away because he was too good for
me. You know I live in Taverns; he is an orderly sober Rascal, and
thinks much to sleep in an Entry till two in a Morning. He told me one
day when he was dressing me, that he wondered I was not dead before
now, since I went to Dinner in the Evening, and went to Supper at two
in the Morning. We were coming down _Essex-street_ one Night a little
flustrated, and I was giving him the Word to alarm the Watch; he had
the Impudence to tell me it was against the Law. You that are married,
and live one Day after another the same Way, and so on the whole Week,
I dare say will like him, and he will be glad to have his Meat in due
Season. The Fellow is certainly very Honest. My Service to your Lady.
_Yours_, J. T.
Now this was very fair Dealing. _Jack_ knew very well, that though the
Love of Order made a Man very awkward in his Equipage, it was a valuable
Quality among the Queer People who live by Rule; and had too much good
Sense and good Nature to let the Fellow starve, because he was not fit
to attend his Vivacities.
I shall end this Discourse with a Letter of Recommendation from _Horace_
to _Claudius Nero_. You will see in that Letter a Slowness to ask a
Favour, a strong Reason for being unable to deny his good Word any
longer, and that it is a Service to the Person to whom he recommends, to
comply with what is asked: All which are necessary Circumstances, both
in Justice and Good-breeding, if a Man would ask so as to have reason to
complain of a Denial; and indeed a Man should not in strictness ask
otherwise. In hopes the Authority of _Horace_, who perfectly understood
how to live with great Men, may have a good Effect towards amending this
Facility in People of Condition, and the Confidence of those who apply
to them without Merit, I have translated the Epistle. [1]
_To_ CLAUDIUS NERO.
_SIR_,
'_Septimus_, who waits upon you with this, is very well acquainted
with the place you are pleased to allow me in your Friendship. For
when he beseeches me to recommend him to your Notice, in such a manner
as to be received by you, who are delicate in the choice of your
Friends and Domesticks, he knows our Intimacy, and understands my
Ability to serve him better than I do myself. I have defended my self
against his Ambition to be yours, as long as I possibly could; but
fearing the Imputation of hiding my Power in you out of mean and
selfish Considerations, I am at last prevailed upon to give you this
Trouble. Thus, to avoid the Appearance of a greater Fault, I have put
on this Confidence. If you can forgive this Transgression of Modesty
in behalf of a Friend, receive this Gentleman into your Interests and
Friendship, and take it from me that he is an honest and brave Man.
T.
[Footnote 1: This is a translation from Horace of the verse of No. 9 in
Book I. of his Epistles; showing how it would read in the customary
prose form of a letter of introduction.]
* * * * *
No. 494. Friday, September 26, 1712. Addison.
'AEgritudinem laudare, unam rem maxime detestabilem, quorum est tandem
Philosophorum?'
Cic.
About an Age ago it was the fashion in _England_, for every one that
would be thought religious, to throw as much Sanctity as possible into
his Face, and in particular to abstain from all Appearances of Mirth and
Pleasantry, which were looked upon as the Marks of a Carnal Mind. The
Saint was of a sorrowful Countenance, and generally eaten up with Spleen
and Melancholy. A Gentleman, who was lately a great Ornament to the
Learned World, [1] has diverted me more than once with an Account of the
Reception which he met with from a very famous Independent Minister, who
was Head of a College in those times. [2] This Gentleman was then a
young Adventurer in the Republick of Letters, and just fitted out for
the University with a good Cargo of _Latin_ and _Greek_. His Friends
were resolved that he should try his Fortune at an Election which was
drawing near in the College, of which the Independent Minister whom I
have before mentioned was Governor. The Youth, according to Custom,
waited on him in order to be examined. He was received at the Door by a
Servant, who was one of that gloomy Generation that were then in
fashion. He conducted him, with great Silence and Seriousness, to a long
Gallery which was darkned at Noon-day, and had only a single Candle
burning in it. After a short stay in this melancholy Apartment, he was
led into a Chamber hung with Black, where he entertained himself for
some time by the glimmering of a Taper, till at length the Head of the
College came out to him, from an inner Room, with half a Dozen Night
Caps upon his Head, and a religious Horror in his Countenance. The young
Man trembled; but his Fears encreased when, instead of being ask'd what
Progress he had made in Learning, he was examined how he abounded in
Grace. His _Latin_ and _Greek_ stood him in little stead; he was to give
an account only of the state of his Soul, whether he was of the Number
of the Elect; what was the Occasion of his Conversion; upon what Day of
the Month, and Hour of the Day it happened; how it was carried on, and
when compleated. The whole Examination was summed up with one short
Question, namely, _Whether he was prepared for Death?_ The Boy, who had
been bred up by honest Parents, was frighted out of his Wits at the
Solemnity of the Proceeding, and by the last dreadful Interrogatory; so
that upon making his Escape out of this House of Mourning, he could
never be brought a second time to the Examination, as not being able to
go through the Terrors of it.
Notwithstanding this general Form and Outside of Religion is pretty well
worn out among us, there are many Persons, who, by a natural
Unchearfulness of Heart, mistaken Notions of Piety, or Weakness of
Understanding, love to indulge this uncomfortable way of Life, and give
up themselves a Prey to Grief and Melancholy. Superstitious Fears and
groundless Scruples cut them off from the Pleasures of Conversation, and
all those social Entertainments, which are not only innocent, but
laudable; as if Mirth was made for Reprobates, and Chearfulness of Heart
denied those who are the only Persons that have a proper Title to it.
_Sombrius_ is one of these Sons of Sorrow. He thinks himself obliged in
Duty to be sad and disconsolate. He looks on a sudden fit of Laughter as
a Breach of his Baptismal Vow. An innocent Jest startles him like
Blasphemy. Tell him of one who is advanced to a Title of Honour, he
lifts up his Hands and Eyes; describe a publick Ceremony, he shakes his
Head; shew him a gay Equipage, he blesses himself. All the little
Ornaments of Life are Pomps and Vanities. Mirth is wanton, and Wit
profane. He is scandalized at Youth for being lively, and at Childhood
for being playful. He sits at a Christening, or a Marriage Feast, as at
a Funeral; sighs at the Conclusion of a merry Story, and grows devout
when the rest of the Company grow pleasant. After all, _Sombrius_ is a
religious Man, and would have behaved himself very properly, had he
lived when Christianity was under a general Persecution.
I would by no means presume to tax such Characters with Hypocrisy, as is
done too frequently; that being a Vice which I think none but He, who
knows the Secrets of Men's Hearts, should pretend to discover in
another, where the Proofs of it do not amount to a Demonstration. On the
contrary, as there are many excellent Persons, who are weighed down by
this habitual Sorrow of Heart, they rather deserve our Compassion than
our Reproaches. I think, however, they would do well to consider,
whether such a Behaviour does not deter Men from a Religious Life, by
representing it as an unsociable State, that extinguishes all Joy and
Gladness, darkens the Face of Nature, and destroys the Relish of Being
it self.
I have, in former Papers, shewn how great a Tendency there is to
Chearfulness in Religion, and how such a Frame of Mind is not only the
most lovely, but the most commendable in a virtuous Person. In short,
those who represent Religion in so unamiable a Light, are like the Spies
sent by _Moses_ to make a Discovery of the Land of _Promise_, when by
their Reports they discouraged the People from entering upon it. Those
who shew us the Joy, the Chearfulness, the Good-humour, that naturally
spring up in this happy State, are like the Spies bringing along with
them the Clusters of Grapes, and delicious Fruits, that might invite
their Companions into the pleasant Country which produced them.
An eminent Pagan Writer [3] has made a Discourse, to shew that the
Atheist, who denies a God, does him less Dishonour than the Man who owns
his Being, but at the same time believes him to be cruel, hard to
please, and terrible to Human Nature. For my own part, says he, I would
rather it should be said of me, that there was never any such Man as
_Plutarch_, than that _Plutarch_ was ill-natured, capricious, or inhuman.
If we may believe our Logicians, Man is distinguished from all other
Creatures by the Faculty of Laughter. He has an Heart capable of Mirth,
and naturally disposed to it. It is not the Business of Virtue to
extirpate the Affections of the Mind, but to regulate them. It may
moderate and restrain, but was not designed to banish Gladness from the
Heart of Man. Religion contracts the Circle of our Pleasures, but leaves
it wide enough for her Votaries to expatiate in. The Contemplation of
the Divine Being, and the Exercise of Virtue, are in their own Nature so
far from excluding all Gladness of Heart, that they are perpetual
Sources of it. In a word, the true Spirit of Religion cheers, as well as
composes the Soul; it banishes indeed all Levity of Behaviour, all
vicious and dissolute Mirth, but in exchange fills the Mind with a
perpetual Serenity, uninterrupted Chearfulness, and an habitual
Inclination to please others, as well as to be pleased in it self.
O.
[Footnote 1: Supposed to be Anthony Henley, a gentleman of property, who
corresponded with Swift, was a friend of Steele's, and contributed some
unidentified papers to the _Tatler_. He died in August, 1711.]
[Footnote 2: Dr. Thomas Goodwin, who was born in 1600, and educated at
Cambridge. He was one of those who, like Milton's tutor, Dr. Thomas
Young, went to Holland to escape from persecution, and was pastor of the
English church at Arnheim, till in the Civil Wars he came to London, and
sat at Westminster as one of the Assembly of Divines. In 1649 Cromwell
made him President of Magdalen College As Oliver Cromwell's chaplain, he
prayed with and for him in his last illness. At the Restoration, Dr.
Goodwin was deprived of his post at Oxford, and he then preached in
London to an Assembly of Independents till his death, in 1679. His works
were collected in five volumes folio.]
[Footnote 3: Plutarch, in his short Treatise 'On Superstition.']
* * * * *
No. 495. Saturday, September 27, 1712. Addison.
Duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus
Nigrae feraci frondis in Algido,
Per damna, per cades, ab ipso
Ducit opes animumque ferro.
Hor.
As I am one, who, by my Profession, am obliged to look into all kinds of
Men, there are none whom I consider with so much Pleasure, as those who
have any thing new or extraordinary in their Characters, or Ways of
living. For this reason I have often amused my self with Speculations on
the Race of People called _Jews_, many of whom I have met with in most
of the considerable Towns which I have passed through in the Course of
my Travels. They are, indeed, so disseminated through all the trading
parts of the World, that they are become the Instruments by which the
most distant Nations converse with one another, and by which Mankind are
knit together in a general Correspondence: They are like the Pegs and
Nails in a great Building, which, though they are but little valued in
themselves, are absolutely necessary to keep the whole Frame together.
That I may not fall into any common beaten Tracks of Observation, I
shall consider this People in three Views: First, with regard to their
Number; Secondly, their Dispersion; and, Thirdly, their Adherence to
their Religion: and afterwards endeavour to shew, First, what Natural
Reasons, and, Secondly, what Providential Reasons may be assigned for
these three remarkable Particulars.
The _Jews_ are looked upon by many to be as numerous at present, as they
were formerly in the Land of _Canaan_.
This is wonderful, considering the dreadful Slaughter made of them under
some of the _Roman_ Emperors, which Historians describe by the Death of
many Hundred Thousands in a War; and the innumerable Massacres and
Persecutions they have undergone in _Turkey_, as well as in all
Christian Nations of the World. The _Rabbins_, to express the great
Havock which has been sometimes made of them, tell us, after their usual
manner of Hyperbole, that there were such Torrents of Holy Blood shed as
carried Rocks of an hundred Yards in Circumference above three Miles
into the Sea.
Their Dispersion is the second remarkable Particular in this People.
They swarm over all the _East_; and are settled in the remotest Parts of
_China_: They are spread through most of the Nations of _Europe_ and
_Africk_, and many Families of them are established in the
_West-Indies_: not to mention whole Nations bordering on
_Prester-John's_ Country, and some discovered in the inner Parts of
_America_, if we may give any Credit to their own Writers.
Their firm Adherence to their Religion, is no less remarkable than their
Numbers and Dispersion, especially considering it as persecuted or
contemned over the Face of the whole Earth. This is likewise the more
remarkable, if we consider the frequent Apostacies of this People, when
they lived under their Kings, in the Land of _Promise_, and within sight
of their Temple.
If in the next place we examine, what may be the Natural Reasons for
these three Particulars which we find in the _Jews_, and which are not
to be found in any other Religion or People, I can, in the first place,
attribute their Numbers to nothing but their constant Employment, their
Abstinence, their Exemption from Wars, and above all, their frequent
Marriages; for they look on Celibacy as an accursed State, and generally
are married before Twenty, as hoping the _Messiah_ may descend from them.
The Dispersion of the _Jews_ into all the Nations of the Earth, is the
second remarkable Particular of that People, though not so hard to be
accounted for. They were always in Rebellions and Tumults while they had
the Temple and Holy City in View, for which reason they have often been
driven out of their old Habitations in the Land of _Promise_. They have
as often been banished out of most other Places where they have settled,
which must very much disperse and scatter a People, and oblige them to
seek a Livelihood where they can find it. Besides, the whole People is
now a Race of such Merchants as are Wanderers by Profession, and at the
same time, are in most if not all Places incapable of either Lands or
Offices, that might engage them to make any Part of the World their
Home.
This Dispersion would probably have lost their Religion, had it not been
secured by the Strength of its Constitution: For they are to live all in
a Body, and generally within the same Enclosure; to marry among
themselves, and to eat no Meats that are not killed or prepared their
own way. This shuts them out from all Table Conversation, and the most
agreeable Intercourses of Life; and, by consequence, excludes them from
the most probable Means of Conversion.
If, in the last place, we consider what Providential Reason may be
assigned for these three Particulars, we shall find that their Numbers,
Dispersion, and Adherence to their Religion, have furnished every Age,
and every Nation of the World, with the strongest Arguments for the
Christian Faith, not only as these very Particulars are foretold of
them, but as they themselves are the Depositaries of these and all the
other Prophecies, which tend to their own Confusion. Their Number
furnishes us with a sufficient Cloud of Witnesses that attest the Truth
of the Old Bible. Their Dispersion spreads these Witnesses thro' all
parts of the World. The Adherence to their Religion makes their
Testimony unquestionable. Had the whole Body of the _Jews_ been
converted to Christianity, we should certainly have thought all the
Prophecies of the old Testament, that relate to the Coming and History
of our Blessed Saviour, forged by Christians, and have looked upon them,
with the Prophecies of the _Sybils_, as made many Years after the Events
they pretended to foretell.
O.
* * * * *
No. 496. Monday, September 29, 1712. Steele.
'Gnatum pariter uti his decuit aut etiam amplius,
Quod illa aetas magis ad haec utenda idonea est.'
Terent. Heaut. A. 1. Sc. 1.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'Those Ancients who were the most accurate in their Remarks on the
Genius and Temper of Mankind, by considering the various Bent and
Scope of our Actions throughout the Progress of Life, have with great
Exactness allotted Inclinations and Objects of Desire particular to
every Stage, according to the different Circumstances of our
Conversation and Fortune, thro' the several Periods of it. Hence they
were disposed easily to excuse those Excesses which might possibly
arise from a too eager Pursuit of the Affections more immediately
proper to each State: They indulged the Levity of Childhood with
Tenderness, overlooked the Gayety of Youth with Good-nature, tempered
the forward Ambition and Impatience of ripen'd Manhood with
Discretion, and kindly imputed the tenacious Avarice of old Men to
their want of relish for any other Enjoyment. Such Allowances as these
were no less advantageous to common Society than obliging to
particular Persons; for by maintaining a Decency and Regularity in the
Course of Life, they supported the Dignity of human Nature, which then
suffers the greatest Violence when the Order of things is inverted;
and in nothing is it more remarkably vilify'd and ridiculous, than
when Feebleness preposterously attempts to adorn it self with that
outward Pomp and Lustre, which serve only to set off the Bloom of
Youth with better advantage. I was insensibly carried into Reflections
of this nature, by just now meeting _Paulino_ (who is in his
Climacterick) bedeck'd with the utmost Splendour of Dress and
Equipage, and giving an unbounded Loose to all manner of Pleasure,
whilst his only Son is debarr'd all innocent Diversion, and may be
seen frequently solacing himself in the _Mall_ with no other
Attendance than one antiquated Servant of his Father's for a Companion
and Director.
'It is a monstrous want of Reflection, that a Man cannot consider,
that when he cannot resign the Pleasures of Life in his Decay of
Appetite and Inclination to them, his Son must have a much uneasier
Task to resist the Impetuosity of growing Desires. The Skill therefore
should, methinks, be to let a Son want no lawful Diversion, in
proportion to his future Fortune, and the Figure he is to make in the
World. The first Step towards Virtue that I have observed in young Men
of Condition that have run into Excesses, has been that they had a
regard to their Quality and Reputation in the Management of their
Vices. Narrowness in their Circumstances has made many Youths, to
supply themselves as Debauchees, commence Cheats and Rascals. The
Father who allows his Son to his utmost ability avoids this latter
Evil, which as to the World is much greater than the former. But the
contrary Practice has prevail'd so much among some Men, that I have
known them deny them what was merely necessary for Education suitable
to their Quality. Poor young _Antonio_ is a lamentable Instance of ill
Conduct in this kind. The young Man did not want natural Talents; but
the Father of him was a Coxcomb, who affected being a fine Gentleman
so unmercifully, that he could not endure in his sight, or the
frequent mention of one, who was his Son, growing into Manhood, and
thrusting him out of the gay World. I have often thought the Father
took a secret Pleasure in reflecting that when that fine House and
Seat came into the next hands, it would revive his Memory, as a Person
who knew how to enjoy them, from Observation of the Rusticity and
Ignorance of his Successor. Certain it is that a Man may, if he will,
let his Heart close to the having no regard to any thing but his dear
self, even with exclusion of his very Children. I recommend this
Subject to your Consideration, and am,
_SIR, Your most humble Servant_,
T. B.
_London, Sept._ 26, 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'I am just come from _Tunbridge_, and have since my return read Mrs.
_Matilda Mohair's_ Letter to you: She pretends to make a mighty Story
about the Diversion of Swinging in that Place. What was done, was only
among Relations; and no Man swung any Woman who was not second Cousin
at farthest. She is pleased to say, care was taken that the Gallants
tied the Ladies Legs before they were wafted into the Air. Since she
is so spiteful, I'll tell you the plain Truth; there was no such
Nicety observed, since we were all, as I just now told you, near
Relations; but Mrs. _Mohair_ her self has been swung there, and she
invents all this Malice, because it was observed she has crooked Legs,
of which I was an Eye-Witness.
_Your humble Servant_,
Rachel Shoestring.
_Tunbridge, Sept._ 26, 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'We have just now read your Paper, containing Mrs. _Mohair's_ Letter.
It is an Invention of her own from one end to the other; and I desire
you would print the enclosed Letter by it self, and shorten it so as
to come within the Compass of your Half-Sheet. She is the most
malicious Minx in the World, for all she looks so innocent. Don't
leave out that Part about her being in love with her Father's Butler,
which makes her shun Men; for that is the truest of it all.
_Your humble Servant_,
Sarah Trice.
P.S. 'She has crooked Legs.'
_Tunbridge, Sept._ 26, 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'All that Mrs. _Mohair_ is so vexed at against the good Company of
this Place, is, that we all know she has crooked Legs. This is
certainly true. I don't care for putting my Name, because one would
not be in the Power of the Creature.
_Your humble Servant unknown_.
_Tunbridge, Sept._ 26, 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'That insufferable Prude Mrs. _Mohair_, who has told such Stories of
the Company here, is with Child, for all her nice Airs and her crooked
Legs. Pray be sure to put her in for both those two Things, and you'll
oblige every Body here, especially
_Your humble Servant_,
Alice Bluegarter.'
T.
* * * * *
No. 497. Tuesday, September 30, 1712. Steele.
[Greek: Houtos esti galeotaes geron.]--Menander.
A favour well bestow'd, is almost as great an Honour to him who confers
it, as to him who receives it. What indeed makes for the superior
Reputation of the Patron in this case, is, that he is always surrounded
with specious Pretences of unworthy Candidates, and is often alone in
the kind Inclination he has towards the Well-deserving. Justice is the
first Quality in the Man who is in a Post of Direction; and I remember
to have heard an old Gentleman talk of the Civil Wars, and in his
Relation give an Account of a General Officer, who with this one
Quality, without any shining Endowments, became so peculiarly beloved
and honoured, that all Decisions between Man and Man were laid before
him by the Parties concerned in a private Way; and they would lay by
their Animosities implicitly, if he bid them be Friends, or submit
themselves in the Wrong without Reluctance, if he said it, without
waiting the Judgment of Court-Martials. His Manner was to keep the Dates
of all Commissions in his Closet, and wholly dismiss from the Service
such who were deficient in their Duty; and after that, took Care to
prefer according to the Order of Battel. His Familiars were his entire
Friends, and could have no interested Views in courting his
Acquaintance; for his Affection was no Step to their Preferment, tho' it
was to their Reputation. By this means a kind Aspect, a Salutation, a
Smile, and giving out his Hand, had the weight of what is esteem'd by
vulgar Minds more substantial. His Business was very short, and he who
had nothing to do but Justice, was never affronted with a Request of a
familiar daily Visitant for what was due to a brave Man at a Distance.
Extraordinary Merit he used to recommend to the King for some
Distinction at home, till the Order of Battel made way for his rising in
the Troops. Add to this, that he had an excellent Manner of getting rid
of such whom he observed were good at _an Halt_, as his Phrase was.
Under this Description he comprehended all those who were contented to
live without Reproach, and had no Promptitude in their Minds towards
Glory. These Fellows were also recommended to the King, and taken off of
the General's hands into Posts wherein Diligence and common Honesty were
all that were necessary. This General had no weak Part in his Line; but
every Man had as much Care upon him, and as much Honour to lose as
himself. Every Officer could answer for what pass'd where he was, and
the General's Presence was never necessary any where, but where he had
placed himself at the first Disposition, except that Accident happen'd
from extraordinary Efforts of the Enemy which he could not foresee; but
it was remarkable that it never fell out from Failure in his own Troops.
It must be confess'd, the World is just so much out of order, as an
unworthy Person possesses what should be in the Direction of him who has
better Pretensions to it.
Instead of such a Conduct as this old Fellow us'd to describe in his
General, all the Evils which have ever happen'd among Mankind have arose
from the wanton Disposition of the Favours of the Powerful. It is
generally all that Men of Modesty and Virtue can do, to fall in with
some whimsical Turn in a Great Man, to make way for things of real and
absolute Service. In the time of Don _Sebastian_ of _Portugal_, or some
time since, the first Minister would let nothing come near him but what
bore the most profound Face of Wisdom and Gravity. They carry'd it so
far, that, for the greater Shew of their profound Knowledge, a Pair of
Spectacles tied on their Noses, with a black Ribband round their Heads,
was what compleated the Dress of those who made their court at his
Levee, and none with naked Noses were admitted to his Presence. A blunt
honest Fellow, who had a Command in the Train of Artillery, had
attempted to make an Impression upon the Porter day after day in vain,
till at length he made his appearance in a very thoughtful dark sute of
Clothes, and two Pair of Spectacles on at once. He was conducted from
Room to Room with great deference, to the Minister; and carrying on the
Farce of the Place, he told his Excellence, That he had pretended in
this manner to be wiser than he really was, but with no ill Intention;
but he was honest Such-a-one of the Train, and he came to tell him that
they wanted Wheel-barrows and Pick-axes. The thing happened not to
displease, the Great Man was seen to smile, and the successful Officer
was reconducted with the same profound Ceremony out of the House.
When _Leo X._ reigned Pope of _Rome_, his Holiness, tho' a Man of Sense,
and of an excellent Taste of Letters, of all things affected Fools,
Buffoons, Humourists, and Coxcombs: Whether it were from Vanity, and
that he enjoy'd no Talents in other Men but what were inferiour to him,
or whatever it was, he carried it so far, that his whole Delight was in
finding out new Fools, and, as our Phrase is, playing them off, and
making them shew themselves to advantage. A Priest of his former
Acquaintance suffered a great many Disappointments in attempting to find
access to him in a regular Character, till at last in despair he retired
from _Rome_, and returned in an Equipage so very fantastical, both as to
the Dress of himself and Servants, that the whole Court were in an
Emulation who should first introduce him to his Holiness. [1] What added
to the Expectation his Holiness had of the Pleasure he should have in
his Follies, was, that this Fellow, in a Dress the most exquisitely
ridiculous, desired he might speak to him alone, for he had Matters of
the highest Importance, upon which he wanted a Conference. Nothing could
be denied to a Coxcomb of so great hope; but when they were apart, the
Impostor revealed himself, and spoke as follows:
Do not be surprized, most holy Father, at seeing, instead of a Coxcomb
to laugh at, your old Friend who has taken this way of Access to
admonish you of your own Folly. Can any thing shew your Holiness how
unworthily you treat Mankind, more than my being put upon this
Difficulty to speak with you? It is a degree of Folly to delight to
see it in others, and it is the greatest Insolence imaginable to
rejoice in the Disgrace of human Nature. It is a criminal Humility in
a Person of your Holiness's Understanding, to believe you cannot excel
but in the Conversation of Half-wits, Humorists, Coxcombs, and
Buffoons. If your Holiness has a mind to be diverted like a rational
Man, you have a great opportunity for it, in disrobing all the
Impertinents you have favour'd, of all their Riches and Trappings at
once, and bestowing them on the Humble, the Virtuous, and the Meek. If
your Holiness is not concerned for the sake of Virtue and Religion, be
pleased to reflect, that for the sake of your own Safety it is not
proper to be so very much in jest. When the Pope is thus merry, the
People will in time begin to think many things, which they have
hitherto beheld with great Veneration, are in themselves Objects of
Scorn and Derision. If they once get a Trick of knowing how to laugh,
your Holiness's saying this Sentence in one Night-Cap and t'other with
the other, the change of your Slippers, bringing you your Staff in the
midst of a Prayer, then stripping you of one Vest and clapping on a
second during divine Service, will be found out to have nothing in it.
Consider, Sir, that at this rate a Head will be reckoned never the
wiser for being Bald; and the ignorant will be apt to say, that going
bare-foot does not at all help on in the way to Heaven. The red Cap
and the Coul will fall under the same Contempt; and the Vulgar will
tell us to our Faces that we shall have no Authority over them, but
from the Force of our Arguments, and the Sanctity of our Lives.
T
[Footnote 1: Founded on Note F to Bayle's account of Leo X.]
* * * * *
No. 498. Wednesday, October 1, 1712. Steele.
'--Frustra retinacula tendens
Fertur equis Auriga, neque audit currus habenas.'
_To the SPECTATOR-GENERAL of_ Great Britain.
_From the farther end of the Widow's Coffee-house in_ Devereaux Court,
_Monday Evening, twenty eight Minutes and a Half past Six._
_Dear Dumb_,
'In short, to use no further Preface, if I should tell you that I have
seen a Hackney-Coachman, when he has come to set down his Fare, which
has consisted of two or three very fine Ladies, hand them out, and
salute every one of them with an Air of Familiarity, without giving
the least Offence, you would perhaps think me guilty of a Gasconade.
But to clear my self from that Imputation, and to explain this Matter
to you, I assure you that there are many Illustrious Youths within
this City, who frequently recreate themselves by driving of a
Hackney-Coach: But those whom, above all others, I would recommend to
you, are the young Gentlemen belonging to our Inns of Court. We have,
I think, about a dozen Coachmen, who have Chambers here in the
_Temple_; and as it is reasonable to believe others will follow their
Example, we may perhaps in time (if it shall be thought convenient) be
drove to _Westminster_ by our own Fraternity, allowing every fifth
Person to apply his Meditations in this way, which is but a modest
Computation, as the Humour is now likely to take. It is to be hop'd
likewise, that there are in the other Nurseries of the Law to be found
a proportionable number of these hopeful Plants, springing up to the
everlasting Renown of their native Country. Of how long standing this
Humour has been, I know not; the first time I had any particular
Reason to take notice of it, was about this time twelvemonth, when
being upon _Hampstead-Heath_ with some of these studious young Men,
who went thither purely for the Sake of Contemplation, nothing would
serve them but I must go thro' a Course of this Philosophy too; and
being ever willing to embelish my self with any commendable
Qualification, it was not long e'er they persuaded me into the
Coach-box; nor indeed much longer, before I underwent the Fate of my
Brother _Phaeton_, for having drove about fifty Paces with pretty good
Success, through my own natural Sagacity, together with the good
Instructions of my Tutors, who, to give them their due, were on all
Hands encouraging and assisting me in this laudable Undertaking; I
say, Sir, having drove about fifty Paces with pretty good Success, I
must needs be exercising the Lash, which the Horses resented so ill
from my Hands, that they gave a sudden Start, and thereby pitched me
directly upon my Head, as I very well remembered about Half an Hour
afterwards, which not only deprived me of all the Knowledge I had
gain'd for fifty Yards before, but had like to have broken my Neck
into the Bargain. After such a severe Reprimand, you may imagine I was
not very easily prevail'd with to make a second Attempt; and indeed,
upon mature Deliberation, the whole Science seem'd, at least to me, to
be surrounded with so many Difficulties, that notwithstanding the
unknown Advantages which might have accrued to me thereby, I gave over
all Hopes of attaining it; and I believe had never thought of it more,
but that my Memory has been lately refreshed by seeing some of these
ingenious Gentlemen ply in the open Streets, one of which I saw
receive so suitable a Reward of his Labours, that tho' I know you are
no Friend to Story-telling, yet I must beg leave to trouble you with
this at large.
'About a fortnight since, as I was diverting my self with a pennyworth
of Walnuts at the _Temple_-Gate, a lively young Fellow in a Fustian
Jacket shot by me, beckon'd a Coach, and told the Coachman he wanted
to go as far as _Chelsey_: They agreed upon the Price, and this young
Gentleman mounts the Coach-box; the Fellow staring at him, desir'd to
know if he should not drive till they were out of Town? No, no,
replied he: He was then going to climb up to him, but received another
Check, and was then ordered to get into the Coach, or behind it, for
that he wanted no Instructors; but be sure you Dog you, says he, don't
you bilk me. The Fellow thereupon surrender'd his Whip, scratch'd his
Head, and crept into the Coach. Having my self occasion to go into the
_Strand_ about the same Time, we started both together; but the Street
being very full of Coaches, and he not so able a Coachman as perhaps
he imagined himself, I had soon got a little Way before him; often,
however, having the curiosity to cast my Eye back upon him, to observe
how he behaved himself in this high Station; which he did with great
Composure till he came to the Pass, which is a Military Term the
Brothers of the Whip have given the Strait at St. _Clement's_ Church:
when he was arrived near this Place, where are always Coaches in
waiting, the Coachmen began to suck up the Muscles of their Cheeks,
and to tip the Wink upon each other, as if they had some Roguery in
their Heads, which I was immediately convinced of; for he no sooner
came within Reach, but the first of them with his Whip took the exact
Dimension of his Shoulders, which he very ingeniously call'd
Endorsing; and indeed I must say, that every one of them took due Care
to endorse him as he came thro' their Hands. He seem'd at first a
little uneasy under the Operation, and was going in all haste to take
the Numbers of their Coaches; but at length by the Mediation of the
worthy Gentleman in the Coach, his Wrath was asswaged, and he
prevail'd upon to pursue his Journey; tho' indeed I thought they had
clapt such a Spoke in his Wheel, as had disabled him from being a
Coachman for that Day at least: For I am only mistaken, Mr. SPEC. if
some of these Endorsements were not wrote in so strong a Hand, that
they are still legible. Upon my enquiring the Reason of this unusual
Salutation, they told me, that it was a Custom among them, whenever
they saw a Brother tottering or unstable in his Post, to lend him a
hand in order to settle him again therein: For my part I thought their
Allegations but reasonable, and so march'd off. Besides our Coachmen,
we abound in divers other Sorts of ingenious robust Youth, who, I
hope, will not take it ill if I refer giving you an account of their
several Recreations to another Opportunity. In the mean time, if you
would but bestow a little of your wholesome Advice upon our Coachmen,
it might perhaps be a Reprieve to some of their Necks. As I understand
you have several Inspectors under you, if you would but send one
amongst us here in the _Temple_, I am persuaded he would not want
Employment. But I leave this to your own Consideration, and am,
'_SIR, Your very humble Servant_,
'Moses Greenbag.
'P. S. I have heard our Criticks in the Coffee-houses hereabout talk
mightily of the Unity of Time and Place: According to my Notion of the
Matter, I have endeavoured at something like it in the Beginning of my
Epistle. I desire to be inform'd a little as to that Particular. In my
next I design to give you some account of excellent Watermen, who are
bred to the Law, and far outdo the Land-Students above-mentioned.'
T.
* * * * *
No. 499. Thursday, October 2, 1712. Addison.
'--Nimis uncis
Naribus indulges--'
Pers.
My Friend WILL. HONEYCOMB has told me, for above this half Year, that he
had a great mind to try his Hand at a _Spectator_, and that he would
fain have one of his writing in my Works. This Morning I received from
him the following Letter, which, after having rectified some little
Orthographical Mistakes, I shall make a Present of to the Publick.
_Dear_ SPEC.
'I was, about two Nights ago, in Company with very agreeable young
People of both Sexes, where talking of some of your Papers which are
written on Conjugal Love, there arose a Dispute among us, whether
there were not more bad Husbands in the World than bad Wives. A
Gentleman, who was Advocate for the Ladies, took this occasion to tell
us the story of a famous Siege in _Germany_, which I have since found
related in my Historical Dictionary, after the following manner. When
the Emperor _Conrade_ the Third had besieged _Guelphus_, Duke of
_Bavaria_, in the City of _Hensberg_, the Women finding that the Town
could not possibly hold out long, petitioned the Emperor that they
might depart out of it, with so much as each of them could carry. The
Emperor knowing they could not convey away many of their Effects,
granted them their Petition; When the Women, to his great Surprize,
came out of the Place with every one her Husband upon her back. The
Emperor was so moved at the sight, that he burst into Tears, and after
having very much extolled the Women for their conjugal Affection, gave
the Men to their Wives, and received the Duke into his Favour.
'The Ladies did not a little triumph at this Story, asking us at the
same time, whether in our Consciences we believed that the Men of any
Town in _Great Britain_ would, upon the same Offer, and at the same
Conjuncture, have loaden themselves with their Wives; or rather,
whether they would not have been glad of such an opportunity to get
rid of them? To this my very good Friend _Tom Dapperwit_, who took
upon him to be the Mouth of our Sex, replied, that they would be very
much to blame if they would not do the same good Office for the Women,
considering that their Strength would be greater, and their Burdens
lighter. As we were amusing our selves with Discourses of this nature,
in order to pass away the Evening, which now begins to grow tedious,
we fell into that laudable and primitive Diversion of Questions and
Commands. I was no sooner vested with the regal Authority, but I
enjoined all the Ladies, under pain of my Displeasure, to tell the
Company ingenuously, in case they had been in the Siege
abovementioned, and had the same Offers made them as the good Women of
that Place, what every one of them would have brought off with her,
and have thought most worth the saving? There were several merry
Answers made to my Question, which entertained us till Bed-time. This
filled my Mind with such a huddle of Ideas, that upon my going to
sleep, I fell into the following Dream.
'I saw a Town of this Island, which shall be nameless, invested on
every side, and the Inhabitants of it so straitned as to cry for
Quarter. The General refused any other Terms than those granted to the
abovementioned Town of _Hensberg_, namely, that the married Women
might come out with what they could bring along with them. Immediately
the City-Gates flew open, and a Female Procession appeared. Multitudes
of the Sex following one another in a row, and staggering under their
respective Burdens. I took my Stand upon an Eminence in the Enemies
Camp, which was appointed for the general Rendezvous of these Female
Carriers, being very desirous to look into their several Ladings. The
first of them had a huge Sack upon her Shoulders, which she set down
with great Care: Upon the opening of it, when I expected to have seen
her Husband shot out of it, I found it was filled with China-Ware. The
next appeared in a more decent Figure, carrying a handsome young
Fellow upon her Back: I could not forbear commending the young Woman
for her Conjugal Affection, when to my great Surprize, I found that
she had left the good Man at home, and brought away her Gallant. I saw
the third, at some distance, with a little withered Face peeping over
her Shoulder, whom I could not suspect for any but her Spouse, till
upon her setting him down I heard her call him dear Pugg, and found
him to be her Favourite Monkey. A fourth brought a huge Bale of Cards
along with her; and the fifth a _Bolonia_ Lap-Dog; for her Husband, it
seems, being a very Burly Man, she thought it would be less trouble
for her to bring away little _Cupid_. The next was the Wife of a rich
Usurer, loaden with a Bag of Gold; she told us that her Spouse was
very old, and by the course of Nature could not expect to live long;
and that to shew her tender regards for him, she had saved that which
the poor Man loved better than his Life. The next came towards us with
her Son upon her Back, who, we were told, was the greatest Rake in the
Place, but so much the Mother's Darling, that she left her Husband
behind with a large Family of hopeful Sons and Daughters, for the sake
of this Graceless Youth.
'It would be endless to mention the several Persons, with their
several Loads that appeared to me in this strange Vision. All the
Place about me was covered with packs of Ribbands, Brocades,
Embroidery, and Ten thousand other Materials, sufficient to have
furnished a whole Street of Toy-shops. One of the Women, having an
Husband who was none of the heaviest, was bringing him off upon her
Shoulders, at the same time that she carried a great bundle of
_Flanders-lace_ under her Arm; but finding herself so overloaden, that
she could not save both of them, she dropp'd the good Man, and brought
away the Bundle. In short, I found but one Husband among this great
Mountain of Baggage, who was a lively Cobler, that kick'd and spurr'd
all the while his Wife was carrying him on, and, as it was said, had
scarce passed a Day in his Life without giving her the Discipline of
the Strap.
'I cannot conclude my Letter, Dear SPEC., without telling thee one
very odd Whim in this my Dream, I saw, methoughts, a dozen Women
employed in bringing off one Man; I could not guess who it should be,
till upon his nearer approach I discover'd thy short Phiz. The Women
all declared that it was for the sake of thy Works, and not thy
Person, that they brought thee off, and that it was on condition that
thou should'st continue the _Spectator_. If thou thinkest this Dream
will make a tolerable one, it is at thy Service, from,
'_Dear_ SPEC.
'_Thine, Sleeping and Waking_,
'WILL. HONEYCOMB.'
The Ladies will see, by this Letter, what I have often told them, that
WILL. is one of those old-fashioned Men of Wit and Pleasure of the Town,
that shews his Parts by Raillery on Marriage, and one who has often
tried his Fortune that way without Success. I cannot however dismiss his
Letter, without observing, that the true Story on which it is built does
Honour to the Sex, and that in order to abuse them, the Writer is
obliged to have recourse to Dream and Fiction. [1]
[Footnote 1: At the end of this number and in all following numbers
there is a change in the colophon, caused by the addition of Tonson's
name to Buckley's. It runs henceforth thus:
LONDON: Printed for S. Buckley and J. Tonson: And Sold by A. Baldwin
in Warwick-Lane. But an announcement at the head of the advertisement
sets forth that Advertisements for this Paper continue to be taken in
by S. Buckley at the Dolphin in Little-Britain, J. Tonson at
Shakespear's Head in the Strand, C. Lillie at the Corner of Beauford
Buildings, and A. Baldwin in Warwick-Lane.]
* * * * *
No. 500. Friday, October 3, 1712. Addison.
'--Huc natas adjice septem,
Et totidem juvenes, et mox generosque nurusque.
Quaerite nunc, habeat quam nostra superbia causam.'
Ov. Met.
_SIR_,
'You who are so well acquainted with the Story of _Socrates_, must
have read how, upon his making a Discourse concerning Love, he pressed
his Point with so much Success, that all the Batchelors in his
Audience took a Resolution to Marry by the first Opportunity, and that
all the married Men immediately took Horse and galloped home to their
Wives. I am apt to think your Discourses, in which you have drawn so
many agreeable Pictures of Marriage, have had a very good Effect this
way in _England_. We are obliged to you, at least for having taken off
that Senseless Ridicule, which for many Years the Witlings of the Town
have turned upon their Fathers and Mothers. For my own part, I was
born in Wedlock, and I don't care who knows it; For which Reason,
among many others, I should look upon my self as a most insufferable
Coxcomb, did I endeavour to maintain that Cuckoldom was inseparable
from Marriage, or to make use of _Husband_ and _Wife_ as Terms of
Reproach. Nay, Sir, I will go one step further, and declare to you
before the whole World, that I am a married Man, and at the same time
I have so much Assurance as not to be ashamed of what I have done.
'Among the several Pleasures that accompany this state of Life, and
which you have described in your former Papers, there are two you have
not taken Notice of, and which are seldom cast into the Account, by
those who write on this Subject. You must have observed, in your
Speculations on Human Nature, that nothing is more gratifying to the
Mind of Man than Power or Dominion; and this I think my self amply
possessed of, as I am the Father of a Family. I am perpetually taken
up in giving out Orders, in prescribing Duties, in hearing Parties, in
administring Justice, and in distributing Rewards and Punishments. To
speak in the Language of the Centurion, _I say unto one, Go, and he
goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my Servant, Do
This, and he doth it_. In short, Sir, I look upon my Family as a
Patriarchal Sovereignty, in which I am my self both King and Priest.
All great Governments are nothing else but Clusters of these little
private Royalties, and therefore I consider the Masters of Families as
small Deputy-Governors presiding over the several little Parcels and
Divisions of their Fellow Subjects. As I take great pleasure in the
Administration of my Government in particular, so I look upon my self
not only as a more useful, but as a much greater and happier Man than
any Batchelor in _England_ of [my [1]] Rank and Condition.
'There is another accidental Advantage in Marriage, which has likewise
fallen to my share, I mean the having a Multitude of Children. These I
cannot but regard as very great Blessings. When I see my little Troop
before me, I rejoice in the Additions which I have made to my Species,
to my Country, and to my Religion, in having produced such a Number of
reasonable Creatures, Citizens, and Christians. I am pleased to see my
self thus perpetuated; and as there is no Production comparable to
that of a human Creature, I am more proud of having been the Occasion
of ten such glorious Productions, than if I had built a hundred
Pyramids at my own Expence, or published as many Volumes of the finest
Wit and Learning. In what a beautiful Light has the Holy Scripture
represented _Abdon_, one of the Judges of _Israel_, who had forty Sons
and thirty Grandsons, that rode on Threescore and Ten Ass-Colts,
according to the Magnificence of the Eastern Countries? How must the
Heart of the old Man rejoice, when he saw such a beautiful Procession
of his own Descendants, such a numerous Cavalcade of his own raising?
For my own part, I can sit in my Parlour with great content, when I
take a review of half a dozen of my little Boys mounting upon
Hobby-Horses, and of as many little Girls tutoring their Babies, each
of them endeavouring to excel the rest, and to do something that may
gain my Favour and Approbation. I cannot question but he who has
blessed me with so many Children, will assist my Endeavours in
providing for them. There is one thing I am able to give each of them,
which is a virtuous Education. I think it is Sir _Francis Bacon's_
Observation, that in a numerous Family of Children the eldest is often
spoiled by the Prospect of an Estate, and the youngest by being the
Darling of the Parent; but that some one or other in the middle, who
has not perhaps been regarded, has made his way in the World, and
over-topped the rest. It is my Business to implant in every one of my
Children the same Seeds of Industry, and the same honest Principles.
By this Means I think I have a fair Chance, that one or other of them
may grow considerable in some or other way of Life, whether it be in
the Army, or in the Fleet, in Trade, or any of the three learned
Professions; for you must know, Sir, that from long Experience and
Observation, I am persuaded of what seems a Paradox to most of those
with whom I converse, namely, That a Man who has many Children, and
gives them a good Education, is more likely to raise a Family, than he
who has but one, notwithstanding he leaves him his whole Estate. For
this reason I cannot forbear amusing my self with finding out a
General, an Admiral, or an Alderman of _London_, a Divine, a
Physician, or a Lawyer, among my little People who are now perhaps in
Petticoats; and when I see the Motherly Airs of my little Daughters
when they are playing with their Puppets, I cannot but flatter my self
that their Husbands and Children will be happy in the Possession of
such Wives and Mothers.
'If you are a Father, you will not perhaps think this Letter
impertinent: but if you are a single Man, you will not know the
Meaning of it, and probably throw it into the Fire: Whatever you
determine of it, you may assure yourself that it comes from one who is
'_Your most humble Servant, and Well-wisher_,
'Philogamus.'
O.
[Footnote 1: [my own]]
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