The Spectator, Volumes 1, 2 and 3
by
Joseph Addison and Richard Steele
Part 47 out of 51
represented it, an Ornament as well as a Virtue.
PLINY _to_ HISPULLA. [2]
'As I remember the great Affection which was between you and your
excellent Brother, and know you love his Daughter as your own, so as
not only to express the Tenderness of the best of Aunts, but even to
supply that of the best of Fathers; I am sure it will be a pleasure to
you to hear that she proves worthy of her Father, worthy of you, and
of your Ancestors. Her Ingenuity is admirable; her Frugality
extraordinary. She loves me, the surest Pledge of her Virtue; and adds
to this a wonderful Disposition to Learning, which she has acquir'd
from her Affection to me. She reads my Writings, studies them, and
even gets them by heart. You'd smile to see the Concern she is in when
I have a Cause to plead, and the Joy she shews when it is over. She
finds means to have the first News brought her of the Success I meet
with in Court, how I am heard, and what Decree is made. If I recite
any thing in publick, she cannot refrain from placing her self
privately in some Corner to hear, where with the utmost delight she
feasts upon my Applauses. Sometimes she sings my Verses, and
accompanies them with the Lute, without any Master, except Love, the
best of Instructors. From these Instances I take the most certain
Omens of our perpetual and encreasing Happiness; since our Affection
is not founded on my Youth and Person, which must gradually decay, but
she is in love with the immortal Part of me, my Glory and Reputation.
Nor indeed could less be expected from one who had the Happiness to
receive her Education from you, who in your House was accustomed to
every thing that was virtuous and decent, and even began to love me by
your Recommendation. For, as you had always the greatest Respect for
my Mother, you were pleased from my Infancy to form me, to commend me,
and kindly to presage I should be one day what my Wife fancies I am.
Accept therefore our united Thanks; mine, that you have bestowed her
on me, and hers, that you have given me to her, as a mutual Grant of
Joy and Felicity.'
[Footnote 1: [scandalous]]
[Footnote 2: Bk iv. ep. 19.]
* * * * *
No. 526. Monday, November 3, 1712. Steele.
'--Fortius utere Loris.'
Ovid.
I am very loth to come to Extremities with the young Gentlemen mention'd
in the following Letter, and do not care to chastise them with my own
Hand, till I am forc'd by Provocations too great to be suffer'd without
the absolute Destruction of my Spectatorial Dignity. The Crimes of these
Offenders are placed under the Observation of one of my chief Officers,
who is posted just at the entrance of the Pass between _London_ and
_Westminster_. As I have great Confidence in the Capacity, Resolution
and Integrity of the Person deputed by me to give an Account of
Enormities, I doubt not but I shall soon have before me all proper
Notices which are requisite for the Amendment of Manners in Publick, and
the Instruction of each Individual of the Human Species in what is due
from him, in respect to the whole Body of Mankind. The present Paper
shall consist only of the above-mentioned Letter, and the Copy of a
Deputation which I have given to my trusty Friend Mr. _John Sly_;
wherein he is charged to notify to me all that is necessary for my
Animadversion upon the Delinquents mentioned by my Correspondent, as
well as all others described in the said Deputation.
_To the_ SPECTATOR-GENERAL _of_ Great Britain.
'I grant it does look a little familiar, but I must call you
_Dear Dumb_,
'Being got again to the farther End of the _Widow's_ Coffeehouse, I
shall from hence give you some account of the Behaviour of our
Hackney-Coachmen since my last. These indefatigable Gentlemen, without
the least Design, I dare say, of Self-Interest or Advantage to
themselves, do still ply as Volunteers Day and Night for the Good of
their Country. I will not trouble you with enumerating many
Particulars, but I must by no means omit to inform you of an Infant
about six foot high, and between twenty and thirty Years of Age, who
was seen in the Arms of a Hackney Coach-man driving by _Will's_
Coffee-house in _Covent-Garden_, between the Hours of four and five in
the Afternoon of that very Day, wherein you publish'd a Memorial
against them. This impudent young Cur, tho' he could not sit in a
Coach-box without holding, yet would he venture his Neck to bid
defiance to your Spectatorial Authority, or to any thing that you
countenanced. Who he was I know not, but I heard this Relation this
Morning from a Gentleman who was an Eye-Witness of this his Impudence;
and I was willing to take the first opportunity to inform you of him,
as holding it extremely requisite that you should nip him in the Bud.
But I am my self most concerned for my Fellow-Templers,
Fellow-Students, and Fellow-Labourers in the Law, I mean such of them
as are dignified and distinguish'd under the Denomination of
Hackney-Coachmen. Such aspiring Minds have these ambitious young Men,
that they cannot enjoy themselves out of a Coach-Box. It is however an
unspeakable Comfort to me, that I can now tell you, that some of them
are grown so bashful as to study only in the Nighttime, or in the
Country. The other Night I spied one of our young Gentlemen very
diligent at his Lucubrations in _Fleet-Street_; and by the way, I
should be under some concern, lest this hard Student should one time
or other crack his Brain with studying, but that I am in hopes Nature
has taken care to fortify him in proportion to the great Undertakings
he was design'd for. Another of my Fellow-Templers, on _Thursday_
last, was getting up into his Study at the Bottom of _Grays-Inn-Lane_,
in order, I suppose, to contemplate in the fresh Air. Now, Sir, my
Request is, that the great Modesty of these two Gentlemen may be
recorded as a Pattern to the rest; and if you would but give them two
or three Touches with your own Pen, tho' you might not perhaps prevail
with them to desist entirely from their Meditations, yet I doubt not
but you would at least preserve them from being publick Spectacles of
Folly in our Streets. I say, two or three Touches with your own Pen;
for I have really observed, Mr. SPEC, that those _Spectators_ which
are so prettily laced down the sides with little c's, how instructive
soever they may be, do not carry with them that Authority as the
others. I do again therefore desire, that for the sake of their dear
Necks, you will bestow one Penful of your own Ink upon them. I know
you are loth to expose them; and it is, I must confess, a thousand
Pities that any young Gentleman, who is come of honest Parents, should
be brought to publick Shame: And indeed I should be glad to have them
handled a little tenderly at the first; but if fair means will not
prevail, there is then no other Way to reclaim them, but by making use
of some wholesome Severities; and I think it is better that a Dozen or
two of such good-for-nothing Fellows should be made Examples of, than
that the Reputation of some Hundreds of as hopeful young Gentlemen as
my self should suffer thro' their Folly. It is not, however, for me to
direct you what to do; but, in short, if our Coachmen will drive on
this Trade, the very first of them that I do find meditating in the
Street, I shall make Bold to take the Number of his Chambers, together
with a Note of his Name, and dispatch them to you, that you may
chastise him at your own Discretion.
I am, Dear SPEC.
For ever Yours,
Moses Greenbag,
Esq., if you please.
P. S. '_Tom Hammercloth_, one of our Coachmen, is now pleading at the
Bar at the other end of the Room, but has a little too much Vehemence,
and throws out his Arms too much to take his Audience with a good
Grace.
_To my Loving and Well-beloved_ John Sly, _Haberdasher of Hats and
Tobacconist, between the Cities of_ London _and _Westminster.
Whereas frequent Disorders, Affronts, Indignities, Omissions, and
Trespasses, for which there are no Remedies by any Form of Law, but
which apparently disturb and disquiet the Minds of Men, happen near the
Place of your Residence; and that you are, as well by your commodious
Situation as the good Parts with which you are endowed, properly
qualified for the Observation of the said Offences; I do hereby
authorize and depute you from the hours of Nine in the Morning, till
Four in the Afternoon, to keep a strict Eye upon all Persons and Things
that are convey'd in Coaches, carried in Carts, or walk on Foot from the
City of _London_ to the City of _Westminster_, or from the City of
_Westminster_ to the City of _London_, within the said Hours. You are
therefore not to depart from your Observatory at the end of
_Devereux-Court_ during the said space of each Day; but to observe the
Behaviour of all Persons who are suddenly transported from stamping on
Pebbles to sit at ease in Chariots, what Notice they take of their
Foot-Acquaintance, and send me the speediest Advice, when they are
guilty of overlooking, turning from, or appearing grave and distant to
their old Friends. When Man and Wife are in the same Coach, you are to
see whether they appear pleased or tired with each other, and whether
they carry the due Mein in the Eye of the World between Fondness and
Coldness. You are carefully to behold all such as shall have Addition of
Honour or Riches, and Report whether they preserve the Countenance they
had before such Addition. As to Persons on Foot, you are to be attentive
whether they are pleased with their Condition, and are dress'd suitable
to it; but especially to distinguish such as appear discreet, by a
low-heel Shoe, with the decent Ornament of a Leather-Garter: To write
down the Name of such Country Gentlemen as, upon the Approach of Peace,
have left the Hunting for the Military Cock of the Hat: Of all who
strut, make a Noise, and swear at the Drivers of Coaches to make haste,
when they see it impossible they should pass: Of all young Gentlemen in
Coach-boxes, who labour at a Perfection in what they are sure to be
excelled by the meanest of the People. You are to do all that in you
lies that Coaches and Passengers give way according to the Course of
Business, all the Morning in Term-Time towards _Westminster_, the rest
of the Year towards the _Exchange_. Upon these Directions, together with
other secret Articles herein inclosed, you are to govern your self, and
give Advertisement thereof to me at all convenient and spectatorial
Hours, when Men of Business are to be seen. Hereof you are not to fail.
Given under my Seal of Office.
_The_ SPECTATOR.
T.
* * * * *
No. 527. Tuesday, November 4, 1712.
'Facile invenies, et pejorem, et pejus moratam,
Meliorem neque tu reperes, neque sol videt.'
Plautus in Sticho.
I am so tender of my Women-Readers, that I cannot defer the Publication
of any thing which concerns their Happiness or Quiet. The Repose of a
married Woman is consulted in the first of the following Letters, and
the Felicity of a Maiden Lady in the second. I call it a Felicity to
have the Addresses of an agreeable Man: and I think I have not any where
seen a prettier Application of a Poetical Story than that of his, in
making the Tale of _Cephalus_ and _Procris_ the History-Picture of a Fan
in so gallant a manner as he addresses it. [1] But see the Letters.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'Tis now almost three months since I was in Town about some Business;
and the Hurry of it being over, took Coach one Afternoon, and drove to
see a Relation, who married about six Years ago a wealthy Citizen. I
found her at home, but her Husband gone to the _Exchange_, and
expected back within an Hour at the farthest. After the usual
Salutations of Kindness, and a hundred Questions about Friends in the
Country, we sat down to Piquet, played two or three Games, and drank
Tea. I should have told you that this was my second time of seeing her
since Marriage, but before she lived at the same Town where I went to
School; so that the Plea of a Relation, added to the Innocence of my
Youth, prevailed upon her good Humour to indulge me in a Freedom of
Conversation as often, and oftner, than the strict Discipline of the
School would allow of. You may easily imagine after such an
Acquaintance we might be exceeding merry without any Offence, as in
calling to mind how many Inventions I had been put to in deluding the
Master, how many Hands forged for Excuses, how many times been sick in
perfect Health; for I was then never sick but at School, and only then
because out of her Company. We had whiled away three Hours after this
manner, when I found it past Five; and not expecting her Husband would
return till late, rose up, told her I should go early next Morning for
the Country: She kindly answered she was afraid it would be long
before she saw me again; so I took my leave and parted. Now, Sir, I
had not been got home a Fortnight, when I received a Letter from a
Neighbour of theirs, that ever since that fatal Afternoon the Lady had
been most inhumanly treated, and the Husband publickly stormed that he
was made a Member of too numerous a Society. He had, it seems,
listened most of the time my Cousin and I were together. As jealous
Ears always hear double, so he heard enough to make him mad; and as
jealous Eyes always see thro' Magnifying Glasses, so he was certain it
could not be I whom he had seen, a beardless Stripling, but fancied he
saw a gay Gentleman of the _Temple_, ten Years older than my self; and
for that reason, I presume, durst not come in, nor take any Notice
when I went out. He is perpetually asking his Wife if she does not
think the time long (as she said she should) till she see her Cousin
again. Pray, Sir, what can be done in this Case? I have writ to him to
assure him I was at his House all that afternoon expecting to see him:
His Answer is, 'tis only a Trick of hers, and that he neither can nor
will believe me. The parting Kiss I find mightily nettles him, and
confirms him in all his Errors. _Ben. Johnson_, as I remember, makes a
Foreigner in one of his Comedies, _admire the desperate Valour of the
bold_ English, _who let out their Wives to all Encounters_. The
general Custom of Salutation should Excuse the Favour done me, or you
should lay down Rules when such Distinctions are to be given or
omitted. You cannot imagine, Sir, how troubled I am for this unhappy
Lady's Misfortune; and beg you would insert this Letter, that the
Husband may reflect upon this Accident coolly. It is no small Matter,
the Ease of a virtuous Woman for her whole Life: I know she will
conform to any Regularities (tho' more strict than the common Rules of
our Country require) to which his particular Temper shall incline him
to oblige her. This Accident puts me in mind how generously
_Pisistratus_ the _Athenian_ Tyrant behaved himself on a like
Occasion, when he was instigated by his Wife to put to death a young
Gentleman, because being passionately fond of his Daughter, he kissed
her in publick as he met her in the Street; _What_ (says he) _shall we
do to those who are our Enemies, if we do thus to those who are our
Friends_? I will not trouble you much longer, but am exceedingly
concern'd lest this Accident may cause a virtuous Lady to lead a
miserable Life with a Husband, who has no Grounds for his Jealousy but
what I have faithfully related, and ought to be reckon'd none. 'Tis to
be fear'd too, if at last he sees his Mistake, yet People will be as
slow and unwilling in disbelieving Scandal as they are quick and
forward in believing it. I shall endeavour to enliven this plain
honest Letter, with _Ovid's_ Relation about _Cybele's_ Image. The Ship
wherein it was aboard was stranded at the mouth of the _Tyber_, and
the Men were unable to move it, till _Claudia_, a Virgin, but
suspected of Unchastity, by a slight Pull hawled it in. The Story is
told in the fourth Book of the _Fasti_.
'Parent of Gods, began the weeping Fair,
Reward or punish, but oh! hear my Pray'r.
If Lewdness e'er defil'd my Virgin Bloom,
From Heav'n with Justice I receive my Doom;
But if my Honour yet has known no Stain,
Thou, Goddess, thou my Innocence maintain;
Thou, whom the nicest Rules of Goodness sway'd,
Vouchsafe to follow an unblemish'd Maid.
She spoke, and touch'd the Cord with glad Surprize,
(The truth was witness'd by ten thousand Eyes)
The pitying Goddess easily comply'd,
Follow'd in triumph, and adorn'd her Guide;
While_ Claudia, _blushing still far past Disgrace,
March'd silent on with a slow solemn Pace:
Nor yet from some was all Distrust remov'd,
Tho' Heav'n such Virtue by such Wonders prov'd.'
I am, Sir,
Your very humble Servant,
_Philagnotes_.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'You will oblige a languishing Lover, if you will please to print the
enclosed Verses in your next Paper. If you remember the
_Metamorphosis_, you know _Procris_, the fond Wife of _Cephalus_, is
said to have made her Husband, who delighted in the Sports of the
Wood, a Present of an unerring Javelin. In process of time he was so
much in the Forest, that his Lady suspected he was pursuing some
Nymph, under the pretence of following a Chace more innocent. Under
this Suspicion she hid herself among the Trees, to observe his
Motions. While she lay conceal'd, her Husband, tired with the Labour
of Hunting, came within her hearing. As he was fainting with Heat, he
cried out, _Aura veni; Oh charming Air approach_.
'The unfortunate Wife, taking the Word _Air_ to be the name of a
Woman, began to move among the Bushes; and the Husband believing it a
Deer, threw his Javelin and kill'd her. This History painted on a Fan,
which I presented to a Lady, gave occasion to my growing poetical.
'Come gentle Air! th'_ AEolian _Shepherd said,
While_ Procris _panted in the secret Shade;
Come gentle Air! the fairer_ Delia _cries,
While at her Feet her Swain expiring lies.
Lo the glad Gales o'er all her Beauties stray,
Breathe on her Lips, and in her Bosom play.
In_ Delia's _Hand this Toy is fatal found,
Nor did that fabled Dart more surely wound.
Both Gifts destructive to the Givers prove,
Alike both Lovers fall by those they love:
Yet guiltless too this bright Destroyer lives,
At random wounds, nor knows the Wound she gives.
She views the Story with attentive Eyes,
And pities_ Procris, _while her Lover dies.'
[Footnote 1: This second letter and the verses were from Pope.]
* * * * *
No. 528. Wednesday, November 5, 1712. Steele.
'Dum potuit solite gemitum virtute repressit.'
Ovid.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'I who now write to you, am a Woman loaded with Injuries, and the
Aggravation of my Misfortune is, that they are such which are
overlooked by the Generality of Mankind, and tho' the most afflicting
imaginable, not regarded as such in the general Sense of the World. I
have hid my Vexation from all Mankind; but have now taken Pen, Ink,
and Paper, and am resolv'd to unbosom my self to you, and lay before
you what grieves me and all the Sex. You have very often mentioned
particular Hardships done to this or that Lady; but, methinks, you
have not in any one Speculation directly pointed at the partial
Freedom Men take, the unreasonable Confinement Women are obliged to,
in the only Circumstance in which we are necessarily to have a
Commerce with them, that of Love. The Case of Celibacy is the great
Evil of our Nation; and the Indulgence of the vicious Conduct of Men
in that State, with the Ridicule to which Women are exposed, though
ever so virtuous, if long unmarried, is the Root of the greatest
Irregularities of this Nation. To shew you, Sir, that tho' you never
have given us the Catalogue of a Lady's Library as you promised, we
read good Books of our own chusing, I shall insert on this occasion a
Paragraph or two out of _Echard's Roman History_. In the 44th Page of
the second Volume the Author observes, that _Augustus_, upon his
Return to _Rome_ at the end of a War, received Complaints that too
great a Number of the young Men of Quality were unmarried. The Emperor
thereupon assembled the whole _Equestrian_ Order; and having separated
the Married from the Single, did particular Honours to the former, but
he told the latter, that is to say, Mr. SPECTATOR, he told the
Batchelors,
"That their Lives and Actions had been so peculiar, that he knew not
by what Name to call 'em; not by that of Men, for they performed
nothing that was manly; not by that of Citizens, for the City might
perish notwithstanding their Care; nor by that of _Romans_, for they
designed to extirpate the _Roman_ Name."
Then proceeding to shew his tender Care and hearty Affection for his
People, he further told them,
"That their Course of Life was of such pernicious Consequence to the
Glory and Grandeur of the _Roman_ Nation, that he could not chuse
but tell them, that all other Crimes put together could not equalize
theirs: For they were guilty of Murder, in not suffering those to be
born which should proceed from them; of Impiety, in causing the
Names and Honours of their Ancestors to cease; and of Sacrilege, in
destroying their Kind, which proceeded from the immortal Gods, and
Human Nature, the principal thing consecrated to 'em: Therefore in
this Respect they dissolved the Government, in disobeying its Laws;
betrayed their Country, by making it barren and waste; nay and
demolished their City, in depriving it of Inhabitants. And he was
sensible that all this proceeded not from any kind of Virtue or
Abstinence, but from a Looseness and Wantonness, which ought never
to be encouraged in any Civil Government."
There are no Particulars dwelt upon that let us into the Conduct of
these young Worthies, whom this great Emperor treated with so much
Justice and Indignation; but any one who observes what passes in this
Town, may very well frame to himself a Notion of their Riots and
Debaucheries all Night, and their apparent Preparations for them all
Day. It is not to be doubted but these _Romans_ never passed any of
their Time innocently but when they were asleep, and never slept but
when they were weary and heavy with Excesses, and slept only to
prepare themselves for the Repetition of them. If you did your Duty as
a SPECTATOR, you would carefully examine into the Number of Births,
Marriages, and Burials; and when you had deducted out of your Deaths
all such as went out of the World without marrying, then cast up the
number of both Sexes born within such a Term of Years last past, you
might from the single People departed make some useful Inferences or
Guesses how many there are left unmarried, and raise some useful
Scheme for the Amendment of the Age in that particular. I have not
Patience to proceed gravely on this abominable Libertinism; for I
cannot but reflect, as I am writing to you, upon a certain lascivious
Manner which all our young Gentlemen use in publick, and examine our
Eyes with a Petulancy in their own, which is a downright Affront to
Modesty. A disdainful Look on such an Occasion is return'd with a
Countenance rebuked, but by averting their Eyes from the Woman of
Honour and Decency to some flippant Creature, who will, as the Phrase
is, be kinder. I must set down things as they come into my Head,
without standing upon Order. Ten thousand to one but the gay Gentleman
who stared, at the same time is an House-keeper; for you must know
they have got into a Humour of late of being very regular in their
Sins, and a young Fellow shall keep his four Maids and three Footmen
with the greatest Gravity imaginable. There are no less than six of
these venerable House-keepers of my Acquaintance. This Humour among
young Men of Condition is imitated by all the World below them, and a
general Dissolution of Manners arises from the one Source of
Libertinism, without Shame or Reprehension in the Male Youth. It is
from this one Fountain that so many Beautiful helpless young Women are
sacrific'd and given up to Lewdness, Shame, Poverty and Disease. It is
to this also that so many excellent young Women, who might be Patterns
of conjugal Affection and Parents of a worthy Race, pine under unhappy
Passions for such as have not Attention enough to observe, or Virtue
enough to prefer them to their common Wenches. Now, _Mr_. SPECTATOR, I
must be free to own to you, that I my self suffer a tasteless insipid
Being, from a Consideration I have for a Man who would not, as he has
said in my hearing, resign his Liberty, as he calls it, for all the
Beauty and Wealth the whole Sex is possessed of. Such Calamities as
these would not happen, if it could possibly be brought about, that by
fining Batchelors as Papists Convict, or the like, they were
distinguished to their disadvantage from the rest of the World, who
fall in with the Measures of Civil Society. Lest you should think I
speak this as being, according to the senseless rude Phrase, a
malicious old Maid, I shall acquaint you I am a Woman of Condition not
now three and twenty, and have had Proposals from at least ten
different Men, and the greater Number of them have upon the Upshot
refused me. Something or other is always amiss when the Lover takes to
some new Wench: A Settlement is easily excepted against; and there is
very little Recourse to avoid the vicious Part of our Youth, but
throwing one's self away upon some lifeless Blockhead, who tho' he is
without Vice, is also without Virtue. Now-a-days we must be contented
if we can get Creatures which are not bad, good are not to be
expected. Mr. SPECTATOR, I sat near you the other Day, and think I did
not displease you Spectatorial Eyesight; which I shall be a better
Judge of when I see whether you take notice of these Evils your own
way, or print this Memorial dictated from the disdainful heavy Heart
of,
_SIR_,
_Your most obedient humble Servant_,
Rachael Welladay.
T.
* * * * *
No. 529. Thursday, November 6, 1712. Addison.
'Singula quaeque locum teneant sortita decenter.'
Hor.
Upon the hearing of several late Disputes concerning Rank and
Precedence, I could not forbear amusing my self with some Observations,
which I have made upon the Learned World, as to this great Particular.
By the Learned World I here mean at large, all those who are any way
concerned in Works of Literature, whether in the Writing, Printing or
Repeating Part. To begin with the Writers; I have observed that the
Author of a _Folio_, in all Companies and Conversations, sets himself
above the Author of a _Quarto_; the Author of a _Quarto_ above the
Author of an _Octavo_; and so on, by a gradual Descent and
Subordination, to an Author in _Twenty Fours_. This Distinction is so
well observed, that in an Assembly of the Learned, I have seen a _Folio_
Writer place himself in an Elbow-Chair, when the Author of a
_Duo-decimo_ has, out of a just Deference to his superior Quality,
seated himself upon a Squabb. In a word, Authors are usually ranged in
Company after the same manner as their Works are upon a Shelf.
The most minute Pocket-Author hath beneath him the Writers of all
Pamphlets, or Works that are only stitched. As for the Pamphleteer, he
takes place of none but of the Authors of single Sheets, and of that
Fraternity who publish their Labours on certain Days, or on every Day of
the Week. I do not find that the Precedency among the Individuals, in
this latter Class of Writers, is yet settled.
For my own part, I have had so strict a regard to the Ceremonial which
prevails in the Learned World, that I never presumed to take place of a
Pamphleteer till my daily Papers were gathered into those two first
Volumes, which have already appeared. After which, I naturally jumped
over the Heads not only of all Pamphleteers, but of every _Octavo_
Writer in _Great Britain_, that had written but one Book. I am also
informed by my Bookseller, that six _Octavo's_ have at all times been
look'd upon as an Equivalent to a _Folio_, which I take notice of the
rather, because I would not have the Learned World surprized, if after
the Publication of half a dozen Volumes I take my Place accordingly.
When my scattered Forces are thus rallied, and reduced into regular
Bodies, I flatter my self that I shall make no despicable Figure at the
Head of them.
Whether these Rules, which have been received time out of Mind in the
Common-Wealth of Letters, were not originally established with an Eye to
our Paper Manufacture, I shall leave to the Discussion of others, and
shall only remark further in this place, that all Printers and
Booksellers take the Wall of one another, according to the
abovementioned Merits of the Authors to whom they respectively belong.
I come now to that point of Precedency which is settled among the three
Learned Professions, by the Wisdom of our Laws. I need not here take
Notice of the Rank which is allotted to every Doctor in each of these
Professions, who are all of them, though not so high as Knights, yet a
Degree above Squires; this last Order of Men being the illiterate Body
of the Nation, are consequently thrown together into a Class below the
three Learned Professions. I mention this for the sake of several Rural
'Squires, whose Reading does not rise so high as to _the Present State
of England_, and who are often apt to usurp that Precedency which by the
Laws of their Country is not due to them. Their Want of Learning, which
has planted them in this Station, may in some measure extenuate their
Misdemeanour; and our Professors ought to pardon them when they offend
in this Particular, considering that they are in a State of Ignorance,
or, as we usually say, do not know their Right Hand from their Left.
There is another Tribe of Persons who are Retainers to the Learned
World, and who regulate themselves upon all Occasions by several Laws
peculiar to their Body. I mean the Players or Actors of both Sexes.
Among these it is a standing and uncontroverted Principle, that a
Tragedian always takes place of a Comedian; and 'tis very well known the
merry Drolls who make us laugh are always placed at the lower End of the
Table, and in every Entertainment give way to the Dignity of the Buskin.
It is a Stage Maxim, _Once a King, and always a King_. For this Reason
it would be thought very absurd in Mr. Bullock, notwithstanding the
Height and Gracefulness of his Person, to sit at the Right Hand of an
Hero, tho' he were but five Foot high. The same Distinction is observed
among the Ladies of the Theatre. Queens and Heroines preserve their Rank
in private Conversation, while those who are Waiting-Women and Maids of
Honour upon the Stage, keep their Distance also behind the Scenes.
I shall only add, that by a Parity of Reason, all Writers of Tragedy
look upon it as their due to be seated, served, or saluted before Comick
Writers: Those who deal in Tragi-Comedy usually taking their Seats
between the Authors of either Side. There has been a long Dispute for
Precedency between the Tragick and Heroick Poets. _Aristotle_ would have
the latter yield the _Pas_ to the former, but Mr. _Dryden_ and many
others would never submit to this Decision. Burlesque Writers pay the
same Deference to the Heroick, as Comick Writers to their Serious
Brothers in the Drama.
By this short Table of Laws, Order is kept up, and Distinction preserved
in the whole Republick of Letters.
O.
* * * * *
No. 530. Friday, November 7, 1712. Addison.
'Sic visum Veneri; cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Saevo mittere cum joco.'
Hor.
It is very usual for those who have been severe upon Marriage, in some
part or other of their Lives to enter into the Fraternity which they
have ridiculed, and to see their Raillery return upon their own Heads. I
scarce ever knew a Woman-hater that did not, sooner or later, pay for
it. Marriage, which is a Blessing to another Man, falls upon such a one
as a Judgment. Mr. _Congreve's Old Batchelor_ [1] is set forth to us
with much Wit and Humour, as an Example of this kind. In short, those
who have most distinguished themselves by railing at the Sex in general,
very often make an honourable Amends, by chusing one of the most
worthless Persons of it, for a Companion and Yoke-fellow. _Hymen_ takes
his Revenge in kind, on those who turn his Mysteries into Ridicule.
My Friend _Will Honeycomb_, who was so unmercifully witty upon the
Women, in a couple of Letters, which I lately communicated to the
Publick, has given the Ladies ample Satisfaction by marrying a Farmer's
Daughter; a piece of News which came to our Club by the last Post. The
_Templer_ is very positive that he has married a Dairy-maid: But _Will_,
in his Letter to me on this Occasion, sets the best Face upon the Matter
that he can, and gives a more tollerable Account of his Spouse. I must
confess I suspected something more than ordinary, when upon opening the
Letter I found that _Will_ was fallen off from his former Gayety, having
changed _Dear Spec_. which was his usual Salute at the Beginning of the
Letter, into _My Worthy Friend_, and subscribed himself in the latter
End of it at full length _William Honeycomb_. In short, the gay, the
loud, the vain _Will Honeycomb_, who had made Love to every great
Fortune that has appeared in Town for [above [2]] thirty Years together,
and boasted of Favours from Ladies whom he had never seen, is at length
wedded to a plain Country Girl.
His Letter gives us the Picture of a converted Rake. The sober Character
of the Husband is dashed with the Man of the Town, and enlivened with
those little Cant-phrases which have made my Friend _Will_ often thought
very pretty Company. But let us hear what he says for himself.
_My Worthy Friend_,
I question not but you, and the rest of my Acquaintance, wonder that
I, who have lived in the Smoak and Gallantries of the Town for thirty
Years together, should all on a sudden grow fond of a Country Life.
Had not my Dog [of a [3]] Steward run away as he did, without making
up his Accounts, I had still been immersed in Sin and Sea-Coal. But
since my late forced Visit to my Estate, I am so pleased with it, that
I am resolved to live and die upon it. I am every Day abroad among my
Acres, and can scarce forbear filling my Letter with Breezes, Shades,
Flowers, Meadows, and purling Streams. The Simplicity of Manners,
which I have heard you so often speak of, and which appears here in
Perfection, charms me wonderfully. As an Instance of it, I must
acquaint you, and by your means the whole Club, that I have lately
married one of my Tenants Daughters. She is born of honest Parents,
and though she has no Portion, she has a great deal of Virtue. The
natural Sweetness and Innocence of her Behaviour, the Freshness of her
Complection, the unaffected Turn of her Shape and Person, shot me
through and through every time I saw her, and did more Execution upon
me in Grogram, than the greatest Beauty in Town or Court had ever done
in Brocade. In short, she is such an one as promises me a good Heir to
my Estate; and if by her means I cannot leave to my Children what are
falsely called the Gifts of Birth; high Titles and Alliances: I hope
to convey to them the more real and valuable Gifts of Birth; strong
Bodies, and Healthy Constitutions. As for your fine Women, I need not
tell thee that I know them. I have had my share in their Graces, but
no more of that. It shall be my Business hereafter to live the Life of
an honest Man, and to act as becomes the Master of a Family. I
question not but I shall draw upon me the Raillery of the Town, and be
treated to the Tune of the _Marriage-Hater match'd_; but I am prepared
for it. I have been as witty upon others in my time. To tell thee
truly, I saw such a Tribe of Fashionable young fluttering Coxcombs
shot up, that I did not think my Post of an _homme de ruelle_ any
longer tenable. I felt a certain Stiffness in my Limbs, which entirely
destroyed that Jauntyness of Air I was once Master of. Besides, for I
may now confess my Age to thee, I have been eight and forty above
these Twelve Years. Since my Retirement into the Country will make a
Vacancy in the Club, I could wish you would fill up my Place with my
Friend _Tom Dapperwit_. He has an infinite deal of Fire, and knows the
Town. For my own part, as I have said before, I shall endeavour to
live hereafter suitable to a Man in my Station, as a prudent Head of a
Family, a good Husband, a careful Father (when it shall so happen) and
as
_Your most Sincere Friend,
and Humble Servant_,
WILLIAM HONEYCOMB.
O.
[Footnote 1: Heartwell in the play of the _Old Batchelor_. Addison here
continues the winding up of the _Spectator_ by finally disposing of
another member of the club.]
[Footnote 2: [about]]
[Footnote 3: [the]]
* * * * *
No. 531. Saturday, November 8. 1712. Addison.
'Qui mare et terras variisque mundum
Temperat horis:
Unde nil majus generatur ipso,
Nec viget quicquam simile aut secundum.'
Hor.
Simonides being ask'd by _Dionysius_ the Tyrant what God was, desired a
Day's time to consider of it before he made his Reply. When the Day was
expired, he desired two Days; and afterwards, instead of returning his
Answer, demanded still double the Time to consider of it. This great
Poet and Philosopher, the more he contemplated the Nature of the Deity,
found that he waded but the more out of his Depth; and that he lost
himself in the Thought, instead of finding an End of it. [1]
If we consider the Idea which wise Men, by the Light of Reason, have
framed of the Divine Being, it amounts to this: That he has in him all
the Perfection of a Spiritual Nature; and since we have no Notion of any
kind of spiritual Perfection but what we discover in our own Souls, we
joyn Infinitude to each kind of these Perfections, and what is a Faculty
in an human Soul becomes an Attribute in God. _We_ exist in Place and
Time, the Divine Being fills the Immensity of Space with his Presence,
and Inhabits Eternity. _We_ are possessed of a little Power and a little
Knowledge, the Divine Being is Almighty and Omniscient. In short, by
adding Infinity to any kind of Perfection we enjoy, and by joyning all
these different kinds of Perfections in one Being, we form our Idea of
the great Sovereign of Nature.
Though every one who thinks must have made this Observation, I shall
produce Mr. _Locke's_ Authority to the same purpose, out of his Essay on
Human Understanding.
'If we examine the _Idea_ we have of the incomprehensible Supreme
Being, we shall find, that we come by it the same way; and that the
complex _Ideas_ we have both of God and separate Spirits, are made up
of the simple _Ideas_ we receive from _Reflection: v. g._ having from
what we experiment in our selves, got the _Ideas_ of Existence and
Duration, of Knowledge and Power, of Pleasure and Happiness, and of
several other Qualities and Powers, which it is better to have, than
to be without; when we would frame an _Idea_ the most suitable we can
to the Supreme Being, we enlarge every one of these with our _Idea_ of
Infinity; and so putting them together, make our Complex _Idea of
God_.' [2]
It is not impossible that there may be many kinds of Spiritual
Perfection, besides those which are lodged in an human Soul; but it is
impossible that we should have Ideas of any kinds of Perfection, except
those of which we have some small Rays and short imperfect Strokes in
our selves. It would be therefore a very high Presumption to determine
whether the Supream Being has not many more Attributes than those which
enter into our Conceptions of him. This is certain, that if there be any
kind of Spiritual Perfection which is not marked out in an human Soul,
it belongs in its Fulness to the Divine Nature.
Several eminent Philosophers have imagined that the Soul, in her
separate State, may have new Faculties springing up in her, which she is
not capable of exerting during her present Union with the Body; and
whether these Faculties may not correspond with other Attributes in the
Divine Nature, and open to us hereafter new Matter of Wonder and
Adoration, we are altogether ignorant. This, as I have said before, we
ought to acquiesce in, that the Sovereign Being, the great Author of
Nature, has in him all possible Perfection, as well in _Kind_ as in
_Degree_; to speak according to our Methods of [conceiving. [3]] I shall
only add under this Head, that when we have raised our Notion of this
Infinite Being as high as it is possible for the Mind of Man to go, it
will fall infinitely short of what He really is. _There is no end of his
Greatness_: The most exalted Creature he has made, is only capable of
adoring it, none but himself can comprehend it.
The Advice of the Son of _Sirach_ is very just and sublime in this
Light.
'By his Word all things consist. We may speak much, and yet come
short: wherefore in sum, he is all. How shall we be able to magnify
him? For he is great above all his Works. The Lord is terrible and
very great; and marvellous in his Power. When you glorify the Lord,
exalt him as much as you can; for even yet will he far exceed. And
when you exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary; for
you can never go far enough. Who hath seen him, that he might tell us?
And who can magnify him as he is? There are yet hid greater things
than these be, for we have seen but a few of his Works.' [4]
I have here only considered the Supreme Being by the Light of Reason and
Philosophy. If we would see him in all the Wonders of his Mercy we must
have recourse to Revelation, which represents him to us, not only as
infinitely Great and Glorious, but as infinitely Good and Just in his
Dispensations towards Man. But as this is a Theory which falls under
every one's Consideration, tho' indeed it can never be sufficiently
considered, I shall here only take notice of that habitual Worship and
Veneration which we ought to pay to this Almighty Being. We should often
refresh our Minds with the Thought of him, and annihilate our selves
before him, in the Contemplation of our own Worthlessness, and of his
transcendent Excellency and Perfection. This would imprint in our Minds
such a constant and uninterrupted Awe and Veneration as that which I am
here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant Prayer,
and reasonable Humiliation of the Soul before him who made it.
This would effectually kill in us all the little Seeds of Pride, Vanity
and Self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the Minds of such whose
Thoughts turn more on those comparative Advantages which they enjoy over
some of their Fellow-Creatures, than on that infinite Distance which is
placed between them and the Supreme Model of all Perfection. It would
likewise quicken our Desires and Endeavours of uniting our selves to him
by all the Acts of Religion and Virtue.
Such an habitual Homage to the Supreme Being would, in a particular
manner, banish from among us that prevailing Impiety of using his Name
on the most trivial Occasions.
I find the following Passage in an excellent Sermon, preached at the
Funeral of a Gentleman who was an Honour to his Country, and a more
diligent as well as successful Enquirer into the Works of Nature, than
any other our Nation has ever produced. [5]
'He had the profoundest Veneration for the Great God of Heaven and
Earth that I have ever observed in any Person. The very Name of God
was never mentioned by him without a Pause and a visible Stop in his
Discourse; in which, one that knew him most particularly above twenty
Years, has told me, that he was so exact, that he does not remember to
have observed him once to fail in it.'
Every one knows the Veneration which was paid by the _Jews_ to a Name so
great, wonderful and holy. They would not let it enter even into their
religious Discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so
tremendous a Name in the ordinary Expressions of their Anger, Mirth, and
most impertinent Passions? Of those who admit it into the most familiar
Questions and Assertions, ludicrous Phrases and Works of Humour? not to
mention those who violate it by solemn Perjuries? It would be an Affront
to Reason to endeavour to set forth the Horror and Prophaneness of such
a Practice. The very mention of it exposes it sufficiently to those in
whom the Light of Nature, not to say Religion, is not utterly
extinguished.
O.
[Footnote 1: This story is taken from Book I. of Cicero 'De Natura
Deorum'.]
[Footnote 2: 'Human Understanding', Book II. ch. xxiii. Sec. 33.]
[Footnote 3: [conceiving him.]]
[Footnote 4: Ecclus. xliii. 26-32.]
[Footnote 5: Bishop Burnet's sermon at the funeral of the Hon. Robert
Boyle (who died in 1691).]
* * * * *
No. 532. Monday, November 10, 1712. Steele.
'--Fungor vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.'
Hor.
It is a very honest Action to be studious to produce other Men's Merit;
and I make no scruple of saying I have as much of this Temper as any Man
in the World. It would not be a thing to be bragged of, but that it is
what any Man may be Master of who will take Pains enough for it. Much
Observation of the Unworthiness in being pained at the Excellence of
another, will bring you to a Scorn of yourself for that Unwillingness:
And when you have got so far, you will find it a greater Pleasure than
you ever before knew, to be zealous in promoting the Fame and Welfare of
the Praise-worthy. I do not speak this as pretending to be a mortified
self-denying Man, but as one who has turned his Ambition into a right
Channel. I claim to my self the Merit of having extorted excellent
Productions from a Person of the greatest Abilities, [1] who would not
have let them appear by any other Means; to have animated a few young
Gentlemen into worthy Pursuits, who will be a Glory to our Age; and at
all Times, and by all possible Means in my Power, undermined the
Interests of Ignorance, Vice, and Folly, and attempted to substitute in
their Stead, Learning, Piety, and good Sense. It is from this honest
Heart that I find myself honoured as a Gentleman-Usher to the Arts and
Sciences. Mr. _Tickell_ and Mr. _Pope_ have, it seems, this Idea of me.
The former has writ me an excellent Paper of Verses in Praise, forsooth,
of my self; and the other enclosed for my perusal an admirable Poem, [2]
which, I hope, will shortly see the Light. In the mean time I cannot
suppress any Thought of his, but insert his Sentiment about the dying
Words of _Adrian_. I won't determine in the Case he mentions; but have
thus much to say in favour of his Argument, that many of his own Works
which I have seen, convince me that very pretty and very sublime
Sentiments may be lodged in the same Bosom without diminution to its
Greatness.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'I was the other day in Company with five or six Men of some Learning;
where chancing to mention the famous Verses which the Emperor _Adrian_
spoke on his Death-bed, they were all agreed that 'twas a Piece of
Gayety unworthy that Prince in those Circumstances. I could not but
dissent from this Opinion: Methinks it was by no means a gay, but a
very serious Soliloquy to his Soul at the Point of his Departure: in
which Sense I naturally took the Verses at my first reading them when
I was very young, and before I knew what Interpretation the World
generally put upon them:
'_Animula vagula, blandula,
Hospes Comesque corporis,
Quae nunc abibis in loca?
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nec (ut soles) dabis Joca!_
'_Alas, my Soul! thou pleasing Companion of this Body, thou fleeting
thing that art now deserting it! whither art thou flying? to what
unknown Region? Thou art all trembling, fearful, and pensive. Now
what is become of thy former Wit and Humour? thou shall jest and be
gay no more._
I confess I cannot apprehend where lies the Trifling in all this; 'tis
the most natural and obvious Reflection imaginable to a dying Man: and
if we consider the Emperor was a Heathen, that Doubt concerning the
Future Fate of his Soul will seem so far from being the Effect of Want
of Thought, that 'twas scarce reasonable he should think otherwise;
not to mention that here is a plain Confession included of his Belief
in its Immortality. The diminutive Epithets of _Vagula, Blandula_, and
the rest, appear not to me as Expressions of Levity, but rather of
Endearment and Concern; such as we find in _Catullus_, and the Authors
of _Hendeca-syllabi_ after him, where they are used to express the
utmost Love and Tenderness for their Mistresses--If you think me right
in my Notion of the last Words of _Adrian_, be pleased to insert this
in the _Spectator_; if not, to suppress it.' [3]
_I am_, &c.
To the supposed Author of the 'Spectator'.
'In Courts licentious, and a shameless Stage,
How long the War shall Wit with Virtue wage?
Enchanted by this prostituted Fair,
Our Youth run headlong in the fatal Snare;
In height of Rapture clasp unheeded Pains,
And suck Pollution thro' their tingling Veins.
Thy spotless Thoughts unshock'd the Priest may hear,
And the pure Vestal in her Bosom wear.
To conscious Blushes and diminish'd Pride,
Thy Glass betrays what treach'rous Love would hide;
Nor harsh thy Precepts, but infused by stealth,
Please while they cure, and cheat us into Health.
Thy Works in_ Chloe's _Toilet gain a part,
And with his Tailor share the the Fopling's Heart:
Lash'd in thy Satire, the penurious Cit
Laughs at himself, and finds no harm in Wit:
From Felon Gamesters the raw Squire is free,
And _Britain_ owes her rescu'd Oaks to thee.
His Miss the frolick Viscount dreads to toast,
Or his third Cure the shallow Templar boast;
And the rash Fool who scorn'd the beaten Road,
Dares quake at Thunder, and confess his God.
The brainless Stripling,--who, expell'd to Town,
Damn'd the stiff College and pedantick Gown,
Aw'd by thy Name, is dumb, and thrice a Week
Spells uncouth _Latin,_ and pretends to _Greek._
A sauntring Tribe! such born to wide Estates,
With Yea and No in Senates hold Debates:
At length despis'd, each to his Fields retires,
First with the Dogs, and King amidst the Squires;
From Pert to Stupid sinks supinely down,
In Youth a Coxcomb, and in Age a Clown.
Such Readers scorned, thou wings't thy daring Flight
Above the Stars, and tread'st the Fields of Light;
Fame, Heav'n and Hell, are thy exalted Theme,
And Visions such as _Jove_ himself might dream;
Man sunk to Slav'ry, tho' to Glory born,
Heaven's Pride when upright, and depraved his Scorn.
Such Hints alone could _British Virgil_ lend,
And thou alone deserve from such a Friend:
A Debt so borrow'd, is illustrious Shame,
And Fame when shar'd with him is double Fame.
So flush'd with Sweets, by Beauty's Queen bestow'd,
With more than mortal Charms. _AEneas_ glow'd.
Such genrous Strifes _Eugene_ and _Marlbro'_ try,
And as in Glory, so in Friendship vie.
Permit these Lines by Thee to live--nor blame
A Muse that pants and languishes for Fame;
That fears to sink when humbler Themes she sings,
Lost in the Mass of mean forgotten things.
Receiv'd by Thee, I prophesy my Rhymes
The Praise of Virgins in succeeding Times:
Mix'd with thy Works, their Life no Bounds shall see,
But stand protected, as inspir'd by thee.
So some weak Shoot, which else would poorly rise,
_Jove's_ Tree adopts, and lifts him to the Skies;
Through the new Pupil fost'ring Juices flow,
Thrust forth the Gems, and give the Flow'rs to blow
Aloft; immortal reigns the Plant unknown,
With borrow'd Life, and Vigour not his own.' [4]
_To the_ SPECTATOR-GENERAL.
_Mr._ John Sly _humbly sheweth,_
'That upon reading the Deputation given to the said Mr. _John Sly_,
all Persons passing by his Observatory behaved themselves with the
same Decorum, as if your Honour your self had been present.
That your said Officer is preparing, according to your Honour's secret
Instructions, Hats for the several kind of Heads that make Figures in
the Realms of _Great Britain_, with Cocks significant of their Powers
and Faculties.
That your said Officer has taken due Notice of your Instructions and
Admonitions concerning the Internals of the Head from the outward Form
of the same. His Hats for Men of the Faculties of Law and Physick do
but just turn up, to give a little Life to their Sagacity; his
military Hats glare full in the Face; and he has prepared a familiar
easy Cock for all good Companions between the above-mentioned
Extreams. For this End he has consulted the most Learned of his
Acquaintance for the true Form and Dimensions of the _Lepidum Caput_,
and made a Hat fit for it.
Your said Officer does further represent, That the young Divines about
Town are many of them got into the Cock Military, and desires your
Instructions therein.
That the Town has been for several Days very well behaved; and further
your said Officer saith not.
T.
[Footnote 1: Addison.]
[Footnote 2: The Temple of Fame.]
[Footnote 3: Pope republished this in his 'Letters' in 1735, adding a
metrical translation of Adrian's lines:
Ah, fleeting spirit! wandering fire,
That long hast warm'd my tender breast,
Must thou no more this frame inspire?
No more a pleasing, cheerful guest?
Whither, ah, whither art thou flying,
To what dark, undiscovered shore?
Thou seem'st all trembling, shivering, dying,
And wit and humour are no more.
Two days after the insertion of this letter from Pope, Steele wrote to
the young poet (Nov. 12):
'I have read over your "Temple of Fame" twice; and cannot find
anything amiss of weight enough to call a fault, but see in it a
thousand thousand beauties. Mr. Addison shall see it to-morrow: after
his perusal of it I will let you know his thoughts. I desire you would
let me know whether you are at leisure or not? I have a design which I
shall open a month or two hence, with the assistance of a few like
yourself. If your thoughts are unengaged I shall explain myself
further.'
This design was the _Guardian_, which Steele was about to establish as
the successor to the _Spectator_; and here we find him at work on the
foundations of his new journal while the finishing strokes are being
given to the _Spectator_. Pope in his reply to Steele said (Nov. 16):
'I shall be very ready and glad to contribute to any design that tends
to the advantage of mankind, which, I am sure, all yours do. I wish I
had but as much capacity as leisure, for I am perfectly idle (a sign I
have not much capacity). If you will entertain the best opinion of me,
be pleased to think me your friend. Assure Mr. Addison of my most
faithful service; of every one's esteem he must be assured already.'
About a fortnight later, returning to the subject of Adrian's verses,
Pope wrote to Steele in reply to subsequent private discussion of the
subject (Nov. 29):
'I am sorry you published that notion about Adrian's verses as mine;
had I imagined you would use my name, I should have expressed my
sentiments with more modesty and diffidence. I only wrote to have your
opinion, and not to publish my own, which I distrusted.'
Then after defending his view of the poem, and commenting upon the Latin
diminutives, he adds,
'perhaps I should be much better pleased if I were told you called me
"your little friend," than if you complimented me with the title of "a
great genius," or "an eminent hand," as Jacob [Tonson] does all his
authors.'
Steele's genial reply produced from Pope, as final result of the above
letter to the _Spectator_, one of the most popular of his short pieces.
Steele wrote (Dec. 4):
'This is to desire of you that you would please to make an ode as of a
cheerful dying spirit; that is to say, the Emperor Adrian's "_animula
vagula_," put into two or three stanzas for music. If you will comply
with this, and send me word so, you will very particularly oblige
RICHARD STEELE.'
This was written two days before the appearance of the last number of
his _Spectator_. Pope answered,
'I do not send you word I will do, but have already done the thing you
desire of me,'
and sent his poem of three stanzas, called THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS
SOUL.
'Vital spark of heavenly flame,' &c.
These two letters were published by Warburton, but are not given by Pope
in the edition of his correspondence, published in 1737, and the poem
has no place in the collected works of 1717. It has been said that if
the piece had been written in 1712 Steele would have inserted it in the
_Spectator_. But it was not received until the last number of the
_Spectator_ had been published. Three months then elapsed before the
appearance of the _Guardian_, to which Pope contributed eight papers.
Pope, on his part, would be naturally unwilling to connect with the poem
the few words he had sent with it to Steele, saying,
'You have it (as Cowley calls it) just warm from the brain. It came to
me the first moment I waked this morning. Yet, you will see, it was
not so absolutely inspiration, but that I had in my head not only the
verses of Adrian, but the fine fragment of Sappho, &c.'
The &c. being short for Thomas Flatman, whose name would not have stood
well by that of Sappho, though he was an accomplished man in his day,
who gave up law for poetry and painting, and died in 1688, one of the
best miniature painters of his time, and the author of 'Songs and
Poems,' published in 1674, which in ten years went through three
editions. Flatman had written:
'_When on my sick-bed I languish,
Full of sorrow, full of anguish,
Fainting, gasping, trembling, crying,
Panting, groaning, speechless, dying;
Methinks I hear some gentle spirit say,
"Be not fearful, come away_!"']
[Footnote 4: From Thomas Tickell.]
* * * * *
No. 533. Tuesday, November 11, 1712. Steele.
'Immo duas dabo, inquit ille, una si parum est:
Et si duarum paenitebit, addentur duae.'
Plaut.
_To the_ SPECTATOR.
_SIR,_
'You have often given us very excellent Discourses against that
unnatural Custom of Parents, in forcing their Children to marry
contrary to their Inclinations. My own Case, without further Preface,
I will lay before you, and leave you to judge of it. My Father and
Mother both being in declining Years, would fain see me, their eldest
Son, as they call it settled. I am as much for that as they can be;
but I must be settled, it seems, not according to my own, but their
liking. Upon this account I am teaz'd every Day, because I have not
yet fallen in love, in spite of Nature, with one of a neighbouring
Gentleman's Daughters; for out of their abundant Generosity, they give
me the choice of four. _Jack_, begins my Father, Mrs. _Catherine_ is a
fine Woman--Yes, Sir, but she is rather too old--She will make the
more discreet Manager, Boy. Then my Mother plays her part. Is not Mrs.
_Betty_ exceeding fair? Yes, Madam, but she is of no Conversation; she
has no Fire, no agreeable Vivacity; she neither speaks nor looks with
Spirit. True, Son; but for those very Reasons, she will be an easy,
soft, obliging, tractable Creature. After all, cries an old Aunt, (who
belongs to the Class of those who read Plays with Spectacles on) what
think you, Nephew, of proper Mrs. _Dorothy_? What do I think? why I
think she cannot be above six foot two inches high. Well, well, you
may banter as long as you please, but Height of Stature is commanding
and majestick. Come, come, says a Cousin of mine in the Family, I'll
fit him; _Fidelia_ is yet behind--Pretty Miss _Fiddy_ must please
you--Oh! your very humble Servant, dear Cos. she is as much too young
as her eldest Sister is too old. Is it so indeed, quoth she, good Mr.
_Pert_? You who are but barely turned of twenty two, and Miss Fiddy in
half a Year's time will be in her Teens, and she is capable of
learning any thing. Then she will be so observant; she'll cry perhaps
now and then, but never be angry. Thus they will think for me in this
matter, wherein I am more particularly concerned than any Body else.
If I name any Woman in the World, one of these Daughters has certainly
the same Qualities. You see by these few Hints, _Mr._ SPECTATOR, what
a comfortable Life I lead. To be still more open and free with you, I
have been passionately fond of a young Lady (whom give me leave to
call _Miranda_) now for these three Years. I have often urged the
Matter home to my Parents with all the Submission of a Son, but the
Impatience of a Lover. Pray, Sir, think of three Years; what
inexpressible Scenes of Inquietude, what Variety of Misery must I have
gone thro' in three long whole Years? _Miranda's_ Fortune is equal to
those I have mention'd; but her Relations are not Intimates with mine.
Ah! there's the Rub. _Miranda's_ Person, Wit, and Humour, are what the
nicest Fancy could imagine; and though we know you to be so elegant a
Judge of Beauty, yet there is none among all your various Characters
of fine Women preferable to _Miranda_. In a Word, she is never guilty
of doing any thing but one amiss, (if she can be thought to do amiss
by me) in being as blind to my Faults, as she is to her own
Perfections.
_I am, SIR,
Your very humble obedient Servant,_
Dustererastus.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'When you spent so much time as you did lately in censuring the
ambitious young Gentlemen who ride in Triumph through Town and Country
in Coach-boxes, I wished you had employed those Moments in
consideration of what passes sometimes within-side of those Vehicles.
I am sure I suffered sufficiently by the Insolence and Ill-breeding of
some Persons who travelled lately with me in a Stage-Coach out of
_Essex_ to _London_. I am sure, when you have heard what I have to
say, you will think there are Persons under the Character of Gentlemen
that are fit to be no where else but in the Coach-box. Sir, I am a
young Woman of a sober and religious Education, and have preserved
that Character; but on Monday was Fortnight it was my Misfortune to
come to _London_. I was no sooner clapt in the Coach, but to my great
Surprize, two Persons in the Habit of Gentlemen attack'd me with such
indecent Discourse as I cannot repeat to you, so you may conclude not
fit for me to hear. I had no relief but the Hopes of a speedy End of
my short Journey. Sir, form to your self what a Persecution this must
needs be to a virtuous and a chaste Mind; and in order to your proper
handling such a Subject, fancy your Wife or Daughter, if you had any,
in such Circumstances, and what Treatment you would think then due to
such Dragoons. One of them was called a Captain, and entertained us
with nothing but silly stupid Questions, or lewd Songs, all the way.
Ready to burst with Shame and Indignation, I repined that Nature had
not allowed us as easily to shut our Ears as our Eyes. But was not
this a kind of Rape? Why should there be Accessaries in Ravishment any
more than Murder? Why should not every Contributor to the Abuse of
Chastity suffer Death? I am sure these shameless Hell-hounds deserved
it highly. Can you exert your self better than on such an Occasion? If
you do not do it effectually, I 'll read no more of your Papers. Has
every impertinent Fellow a Privilege to torment me, who pay my
Coach-hire as well as he? Sir, pray consider us in this respect as the
weakest Sex, and have nothing to defend our selves; and I think it as
Gentleman-like to challenge a Woman to fight, as to talk obscenely in
her Company, especially when she has not power to stir. Pray let me
tell you a Story which you can make fit for publick View. I knew a
Gentleman, who having a very good Opinion of the Gentlemen of the
Army, invited ten or twelve of them to sup with him; and at the same
time invited two or three Friends, who were very severe against the
Manners and Morals of Gentlemen of that Profession. It happened one of
them brought two Captains of his Regiment newly come into the Army,
who at first Onset engaged the Company with very lewd Healths and
suitable Discourse. You may easily imagine the Confusion of the
Entertainer, who finding some of his Friends very uneasy, desired to
tell them a Story of a great Man, one Mr, _Locke_ (whom I find you
frequently mention) that being invited to dine with the then Lords
_Hallifax, Anglesey_, and _Shaftsbury_; immediately after Dinner,
instead of Conversation, the Cards were called for, where the bad or
good Success produced the usual Passions of Gaming. Mr. _Locke_
retiring to a Window, and writing, my Lord _Anglesey_ desired to know
what he was writing: _Why, my Lords_, answered he, _I could not sleep
last Night for the Pleasure and Improvement I expected from the
Conversation of the greatest Men of the Age_. This so sensibly stung
them, that they gladly compounded to throw their Cards in the Fire if
he would his Paper, and so a Conversation ensued fit for such Persons.
This Story prest so hard upon the young Captains, together with the
Concurrence of their superior Officers, that the young Fellows left
the Company in Confusion. Sir, I know you hate long things; but if you
like it, you may contract it, or how you will; but I think it has a
Moral in it.
But, Sir, I am told you are a famous Mechanick as well as a Looker-on,
and therefore humbly propose you would invent some Padlock, with full
Power under your Hand and Seal, for all modest Persons, either Men or
Women, to clap upon the Mouths of all such impertinent impudent
Fellows: And I wish you would publish a Proclamation, that no modest
Person who has a Value for her Countenance, and consequently would not
be put out of it, presume to travel after such a Day without one of
them in their Pockets. I fancy a smart _Spectator_ upon this Subject
would serve for such a Padlock; and that publick Notice may be given
in your Paper where they may be had with Directions, Price 2_d_. and
that part of the Directions may be, when any Person presumes to be
guilty of the above-mentioned Crime, the Party aggrieved may produce
it to his Face, with a Request to read it to the Company. He must be
very much hardened that could outface that Rebuke; and his further
Punishment I leave you to prescribe.
_Your humble Servant_,
Penance Cruel.
T. [1]
[Footnote 1: To this number is appended the advertisement:
This Day is Published,
a very neat Pocket Edition of the 3rd and 4th Volumes of the Spectator
in 12 deg.. To which is added a compleat Index to the whole 4 volumes.
Printed for S. Buckley at the Dolphin in Little Britain and J. Tonson
at Shakespear's Head over against Catherine Street in the Strand.]
* * * * *
No. 534. Wednesday, November 12, 1712. Steele.
'--Rarus enim ferme sensus communis in illa
Fortuna--'
Juv.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'I am a young Woman of Nineteen, the only Daughter of very wealthy
Parents; and have my whole Life been used with a Tenderness which did
me no great Service in my Education. I have perhaps an uncommon Desire
for Knowledge of what is suitable to my Sex and Quality; but as far as
I can remember, the whole Dispute about me has been, whether such a
thing was proper for the Child to do, or not? Or whether such or such
Food was the more wholsome for the young Lady to eat? This was ill for
my Shape, that for my Complexion, and t'other for my Eyes. I am not
extravagant when I tell you, I do not know that I have trod upon the
very Earth since I was ten Years old: A Coach or Chair I am obliged to
for all my Motions from one Place to another ever since I can
remember. All who had to do to instruct me, have ever been bringing
Stories of the notable things I have said and the Womanly manner of my
behaving my self upon such and such an Occasion. This has been my
State, till I came towards Years of Womanhood; and ever since I grew
towards the Age of Fifteen, I have been abused after another Manner.
Now, forsooth, I am so killing, no one can safely speak to me. Our
House is frequented by Men of Sense, and I love to ask Questions when
I fall into such Conversation; but I am cut short with something or
other about my bright Eyes. There is, Sir, a Language particular for
talking to Women in; and none but those of the very first good
Breeding (who are very few, and who seldom come into my way) can speak
to us without regard to our Sex. Among the generality of those they
call Gentlemen, it is impossible for me to speak upon any subject
whatsoever, without provoking somebody to say, _Oh! to be sure fine
Mrs. such-a-one must be very particularly acquainted with all that;
all the World will contribute to her Entertainment and Information_.
Thus, Sir, I am so handsome, that I murder all who approach me; so
wise, that I want no new Notices; and so well bred, that I am treated
by all that know me like a Fool, for no one will answer as if I were
their Friend or Companion. Pray, Sir, be pleased to take the part of
us Beauties and Fortunes into your Consideration, and do not let us be
thus flattered out of our Senses. I have got an Hussey of a Maid, who
is most craftily given to this ill Quality. I was at first diverted
with a certain Absurdity the Creature was guilty of in every thing she
said: She is a Country Girl, and in the Dialect of the Shire she was
born in, would tell me that every body reckon'd her Lady had the
purest Red and White in the World: Then she would tell me, I was the
most like one _Sisly Dobson_ in their Town, who made the Miller make
away with himself, and walk afterwards in the Corn-Field where they
used to meet. With all this, this cunning Hussey can lay Letters in my
way, and put a Billet in my Gloves, and then stand in it she knows
nothing of it. I do not know, from my Birth to this Day, that I have
been ever treated by any one as I ought; and if it were not for a few
Books which I delight in, I should be at this Hour a Novice to all
common Sense. Would it not be worth your while to lay down Rules for
Behaviour in this Case, and tell People, that we Fair-ones expect
honest plain Answers as well as other People? Why must I, good Sir,
because I have a good Air, a fine Complexion, and am in the Bloom of
my Years, be mis-led in all my Actions? and have the Notions of Good
and Ill confounded in my Mind, for no other Offence, but because I
have the Advantages of Beauty and Fortune? Indeed, Sir, what with the
silly Homage which is paid to us by the sort of People I have above
spoken of, and the utter Negligence which others have for us, the
Conversation of us young Women of Condition is no other than what must
expose us to Ignorance and Vanity, if not Vice. All this is humbly
submitted to your Spectatorial Wisdom, by,
_SIR, Your humble Servant_,
Sharlot Wealthy.
Will's _Coffee-house_.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'Pray, Sir, it will serve to fill up a Paper, if you put in this;
which is only to ask, whether that Copy of Verses, which is a
Paraphrase of _Isaiah_, in one of your Speculations, is not written by
Mr. _Pope_? Then you get on another Line, by putting in, with proper
Distances, as at the end of a Letter,
_I am, Sir,
Your humble Servant_,
Abraham Dapperwit.
Mr. Dapperwit,
I am glad to get another Line forward, by saying that excellent Piece is
Mr. _Pope's_; and so, with proper Distances,
_I am, Sir,
Your humble Servant_,
S--r.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
I was a wealthy Grocer in the City, and as fortunate as diligent; but
I was a single Man, and you know there are Women. One in particular
came to my Shop, who I wished might, but was afraid never would, make
a Grocer's Wife. I thought, however, to take an effectual Way of
Courting, and sold to her at less Price than I bought, that I might
buy at less Price than I sold. She, you may be sure, often came, and
helped me to many Customers at the same Rate, fancying I was obliged
to her. You must needs think this was a good living Trade, and my
Riches must be vastly improved. In fine, I was nigh being declared
Bankrupt, when I declared my self her Lover, and she herself married.
I was just in a Condition to support my self, and am now in Hopes of
growing rich by losing my Customers.
_Yours_,
Jeremy Comfit.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
I am in the Condition of the Idol you was once pleased to mention, and
Bar-keeper of a Coffee-house. I believe it is needless to tell you the
Opportunities I must give, and the Importunities I suffer. But there
is one Gentleman who besieges me as close as the _French_ did
_Bouchain_. His Gravity makes him work cautious, and his regular
Approaches denote a good Engineer. You need not doubt of his Oratory,
as he is a Lawyer; and especially since he has had so little Use of it
at _Westminster_, he may spare the more for me.
What then can weak Woman do? I am willing to surrender, but he would
have it at Discretion, and I with Discretion. In the mean time, whilst
we parly, our several Interests are neglected. As his Siege grows
stronger, my Tea grows weaker; and while he pleads at my Bar, none
come to him for Counsel but _in Forma Pauperis_. Dear Mr. SPECTATOR,
advise him not to insist upon hard Articles, nor by his irregular
Desires contradict the well-meaning Lines of his Countenance. If we
were agreed we might settle to something, as soon as we could
determine where we should get most, by the Law, at the Coffee-house,
or at Westminster.
_Your humble Servant_,
Lucinda Parly.
_A Minuit from Mr_. John Sly.
The World is pretty regular for about forty Rod East, and ten West of
the Observatory of the said Mr. _Sly_; but he is credibly informed,
that when they are got beyond the Pass into the _Strand_, or those who
move City-ward are got within _Temple-Bar_, they are just as they were
before. It is there-fore humbly proposed that Moving-Centries may be
appointed all the busy Hours of the Day between the _Exchange_ and
_Westminster_, and report what passes to your Honour, or your
subordinate Officers, from Time to Time.
_Ordered_,
That Mr. _Sly_ name the said Officers, provided he will answer for their
Principles and Morals.
T.
* * * * *
No. 535. Thursday, November 13, 1712. Addison.
'Spem longam reseces--'
Hor.
My Four Hundred and Seventy First Speculation turned upon the Subject of
Hope in general. I design this Paper as a Speculation upon that vain and
foolish Hope, which is misemployed on Temporal Objects, and produces
many Sorrows and Calamities in human Life.
It is a Precept several times inculcated by _Horace_, that we should not
entertain an Hope of any thing in Life which lies at a great Distance
from us. The Shortness and Uncertainty of our Time here, makes such a
kind of Hope unreasonable and absurd. The Grave lies unseen between us
and the Object which we reach after: Where one Man lives to enjoy the
Good he has in view, ten thousand are cut off in the Pursuit of it.
It happens likewise unluckily, that one Hope no sooner dies in us but
another rises up in its stead. We are apt to fancy that we shall be
happy and satisfied if we possess ourselves of such and such particular
Enjoyments; but either by reason of their Emptiness, or the natural
Inquietude of the Mind, we have no sooner gained one Point but we extend
our Hopes to another. We still find new inviting Scenes and Landskips
lying behind those which at a Distance terminated our View.
The natural Consequences of such Reflections are these; that we should
take Care not to let our Hopes run out into too great a Length; that we
should sufficiently weigh the Objects of our Hope, whether they be such
as we may reasonably expect from them what we propose in their Fruition,
and whether they are such as we are pretty sure of attaining, in case
our Life extend itself so far. If we hope for things which are at too
great a Distance from, us, it is possible that we may be intercepted by
Death in our Progress towards them. If we hope for things of which we
have not thoroughly considered the value, our Disappointment will be
greater than our Pleasure in the Fruition of them. If we hope for what
we are not likely to possess, we act and think in vain, and make Life a
greater Dream and Shadow than it really is.
Many of the Miseries and Misfortunes of Life proceed from our Want of
Consideration, in one or all of these Particulars. They are the Rocks on
which the sanguine Tribe of Lovers daily split, and on which the
Bankrupt, the Politician, the Alchymist and Projector are cast away in
every Age. Men of warm Imaginations and towring Thoughts are apt to
overlook the Goods of Fortune [which are [1]] near them, for something
that glitters in the Sight at a distance; to neglect solid and
substantial Happiness, for what is showy and superficial; and to contemn
that Good which lies within their reach, for that which they are not
capable of attaining. Hope calculates its Schemes for a long and durable
Life; presses forward to imaginary Points of Bliss; and grasps at
Impossibilities; and consequently very often ensnares Men into Beggary,
Ruin and Dishonour.
What I have here said, may serve as a Moral to an _Arabian_ Fable, which
I find translated into _French_ by Monsieur _Galland_. [2]
The Fable has in it such a wild, but natural Simplicity, that I question
not but my Reader will be as much pleased with it as I have been, and
that he will consider himself, if he reflects on the several Amusements
of Hope which have sometimes passed in his Mind, as a near Relation to
the _Persian_ Glass-Man.
_Alnaschar_, says the Fable, was a very idle Fellow, that never would
set his Hand to any Business during his Father's Life. When his Father
died, he left him to the value of an hundred Drachmas in _Persian_
Mony. _Alnaschar_, in order to make the best of it, laid it out in
Glasses, Bottles, and the finest Earthen Ware. These he piled up in a
large open Basket, and having made choice of a very little Shop,
placed the Basket at his Feet, and leaned his Back upon the Wall, in
Expectation of Customers. As he sat in this Posture with his Eyes upon
the Basket, he fell into a most amusing Train of Thought, and was
over-heard by one of his Neighbours, as he talked to himself in the
following manner: _This Basket_, says he, _cost me at the Wholesale
Merchant's an Hundred Drachmas, which is all I have in the World. I
shall quickly make two hundred of it, by selling it in Retail. These
two hundred_ _Drachmas will in a very little while rise to four
Hundred, which of course will amount in time to four Thousand. Four
Thousand Drachmas cannot fail of making Eight Thousand. As soon as by
this means I am Master of Ten Thousand, I will lay aside my Trade of a
Glass-Man, and turn Jeweller. I shall then deal in Diamonds, Pearls,
and all sorts of rich Stones. When I have got together as much Wealth
as I can well desire, I will make a Purchase of the finest House I can
find, with Lands, Slaves, Eunuchs and Horses. I shall then begin to
enjoy my self, and make a noise in the World. I will not, however,
stop there, but still continue my Traffick, till I have got together
an Hundred Thousand Drachmas. When I have thus made my self Master of
an hundred thousand Drachmas, I shall naturally set my self on the
foot of a Prince, and will demand the Grand _Visier's_ Daughter in
Marriage, after having represented to that Minister the Information
which I have received of the Beauty, Wit, Discretion, and other high
Qualities which his Daughter possesses. I will let him know at the
same time, that it is my Intention to make him a Present of a thousand
Pieces of Gold on our Marriage-Night. As soon as I have married the
Grand _Visier's_ Daughter, I'll buy her ten black Eunuchs, the
youngest and best that can be got for Mony. I must afterwards make my
Father-in-Law a Visit with a great Train and Equipage. And when I am
placed at his Right-hand, which he will do of course, if it be only to
Honour his Daughter, I will give him the thousand Pieces of Gold which
I promised him, and afterwards, to his great Surprize, will present
him another Purse of the same Value, with some short Speech; as,_ Sir,
you see I am a Man of my Word: I always give more than I promise.
_When I have brought the Princess to my House, I shall take particular
care to breed in her a due Respect for me, before I give the Reins to
Love and Dalliance. To this end I shall confine her to her own
Apartment, make her a short Visit, and talk but little to her. Her
Women will represent to me, that she is inconsolable by reason of my
Unkindness, and beg me with Tears to caress her, and let her sit down
by me; but I shall still remain inexorable, and will turn my Back upon
her all the first Night. Her Mother will then come and bring her
Daughter to me, as I am seated upon my Sofa. The Daughter, with Tears
in her Eyes, will fling herself at my Feet, and beg of me to receive
her into my Favour: Then will I, to imprint in her a thorough
Veneration for my Person, draw up my Legs and spurn her from me with
my Foot, in such a manner that she shall fall down several Paces from
the Sofa.
Alnaschar_ was entirely swallowed up in this Chimerical Vision, and
could not forbear acting with his Foot what he had in his Thoughts: So
that unluckily striking his Basket of brittle Ware, which was the
Foundation of all his Grandeur, he kicked his Glasses to a great
distance from him into the Street, and broke them into ten thousand
Pieces.
O.
[Footnote 1: [that lie]
[Footnote 2: Arabian Nights, translated by Antony Galland, who died
1715.]
* * * * *
No. 536. Friday, November 14, 1712. Addison.
'O verae Phrygiae neque enim Phryges!'
Virg.
As I was the other day standing in my Bookseller's Shop, a pretty young
Thing about Eighteen Years of Age, stept out of her Coach, and brushing
by me, beck'ned the Man of the Shop to the further end of his Counter,
where she whispered something to him with an attentive Look, and at the
same time presented him with a Letter: After which, pressing the End of
her Fan upon his Hand, she delivered the remaining part of her Message,
and withdrew. I observed, in the midst of her Discourse, that she
flushed, and cast an Eye upon me over her Shoulder, having been informed
by my Bookseller, that I was the Man of the short Face, whom she had so
often read of. Upon her passing by me, the pretty blooming Creature
smiled in my Face, and dropped me a Curtsie. She scarce gave me time to
return her Salute, before she quitted the Shop with an easie Scuttle,
and stepped again into her Coach, giving the Footman Directions to drive
where they were bid. Upon her Departure, my Bookseller gave me a Letter,
superscribed, _To the ingenious Spectator_, which the young Lady had
desired him to deliver into my own Hands, and to tell me that the speedy
Publication of it would not only oblige her self, but a whole Tea-Table
of my Friends. I opened it therefore, with a Resolution to publish it,
whatever it should contain, and am sure, if any of my Male Readers will
be so severely critical as not to like it, they would have been as well
pleased with it as my self, had they seen the Face of the pretty Scribe.
_London, Nov._ 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'You are always ready to receive any useful Hint or Proposal, and
such, I believe, you will think one that may put you in a way to
employ the most idle part of the Kingdom; I mean that part of Mankind
who are known by the Name of the Womens-Men or Beaus, _&c. Mr._
SPECTATOR, you are sensible these pretty Gentlemen are not made for
any Manly Imployments, and for want of Business are often as much in
the Vapours as the Ladies. Now what I propose is this, that since
Knotting is again in fashion, which has been found a very pretty
Amusement, that you would recommend it to these Gentlemen as something
that may make them useful to the Ladies they admire. And since 'tis
not inconsistent with any Game, or other Diversion, for it may be done
in the Playhouse, in their Coaches, at the Tea-Table, and, in short,
in all Places where they come for the sake of the Ladies (except at
Church, be pleased to forbid it there, to prevent Mistakes) it will be
easily complied with. 'Tis beside an Imployment that allows, as we see
by the Fair Sex, of many Graces, which will make the Beaus more
readily come into it; it shews a white Hand and Diamond Ring to great
advantage; it leaves the Eyes at full liberty to be employed as
before, as also the Thoughts, and the Tongue. In short, it seems in
every respect so proper, that 'tis needless to urge it further, by
speaking of the Satisfaction these Male-Knotters will find, when they
see their Work mixed up in a Fringe, and worn by the fair Lady for
whom and with whom it was done. Truly, _Mr._ SPECTATOR, I cannot but
be pleased I have hit upon something that these Gentlemen are capable
of; for 'tis sad so considerable a part of the Kingdom (I mean for
Numbers) should be of no manner of use. I shall not trouble you
farther at this time, but only to say, that I am always your Reader,
and generally your Admirer, C. B.
_P. S._ 'The sooner these fine Gentlemen are set to Work the better;
there being at this time several fine Fringes that stay only for more
Hands.'
I shall, in the next place, present my Reader with the Description of a
Set of Men who are common enough in the World, tho' I do not remember
that I have yet taken notice of them, as they are drawn in the following
Letter.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
'Since you have lately, to so good purpose, enlarged upon Conjugal
Love, it's to be hoped you'll discourage every Practice that rather
proceeds from a regard to Interest, than to Happiness. Now you cannot
but observe, that most of our fine young Ladies readily fall in with
the Direction of the graver sort, to retain in their Service, by some
small Encouragement, as great a Number as they can of supernumerary
and insignificant Fellows, which they use like Whifflers, and commonly
call _Shoeing-Horns_. These are never designed to know the length of
the Foot, but only, when a good Offer comes, to whet and spur him up
to the Point. Nay, 'tis the Opinion of that grave Lady, Madam
_Matchwell_, that it's absolutely convenient for every prudent Family
to have several of these Implements about the House, to clap on as
Occasion serves, and that every Spark ought to produce a Certificate
of his being a Shoeing-Horn, before he be admitted as a Shoe. A
certain Lady, whom I could name, if it was necessary, has at present
more Shoeing-Horns of all Sizes, Countries, and Colours, in her
Service, than ever she had new Shoes in her Life. I have known a Woman
make use of a Shoeing-Horn for several Years, and finding him
unsuccessful in that Function, convert him at length into a Shoe. I am
mistaken if your Friend _Mr_. WILLIAM HONEYCOMB, was not a cast
Shoeing-Horn before his late Marriage. As for my self, I must frankly
declare to you, that I have been an errant Shoeing-Horn for above
these twenty Years. I served my first Mistress in that Capacity above
five of the Number, before she was shod. I confess, though she had
many who made their Applications to her, I always thought my self the
best Shoe in her Shop, and it was not till a Month before her Marriage
that I discovered what I was. This had like to have broke my Heart,
and raised such Suspicions in me, that I told the next I made Love to,
upon receiving some unkind Usage from her, that I began to look upon
my self as no more than her Shoeing-Horn. Upon which, my Dear, who was
a Coquet in her Nature, told me I was Hypocondriacal, and that I might
as well look upon my self to be an Egg or a Pipkin. But in a very
short time after she gave me to know that I was not mistaken in my
self. It would be tedious to recount to you the Life of an unfortunate
Shoeing-Horn, or I might entertain you with a very long and melancholy
Relation of my Sufferings. Upon the whole, I think, Sir, it would very
well become a Man in your Post, to determine in what Cases a Woman may
be allowed, with Honour, to make use of a Shoeing-Horn, as also to
declare whether a Maid on this side Five and Twenty, or a Widow who
has not been three Years in that State, may be granted such a
Privilege, with other Difficulties which will naturally occur to you
upon that Subject.
_I am, SIR,
With the most profound Veneration,
Yours, &c._
O.
* * * * *
No. 537. Saturday, November 15, 1712. J. Hughes.
[Greek: Tou men gar genos esmen--]
_To the_ SPECTATOR.
_SIR,_
'It has been usual to remind Persons of Rank, on great Occasions in
Life, of their Race and Quality, and to what Expectations they were
born; that by considering what is worthy of them, they may be
withdrawn from mean Pursuits, and encouraged to laudable Undertakings.
This is turning Nobility into a Principle of Virtue, and making it
productive of Merit, as it is understood to have been originally a
Reward of it.
'It is for the like reason, I imagine, that you have in some of your
Speculations asserted to your Readers the _Dignity of Human Nature_.
But you cannot be insensible that this is a controverted Doctrine;
there are Authors who consider Human Nature in a very different View,
and Books of Maxims have been written to shew the _Falsity of all
Human Virtues_. The Reflections which are made on this Subject usually
take some Tincture from the Tempers and Characters of those that make
them. Politicians can resolve the most shining Actions among Men into
Artifice and Design; others, who are soured by Discontent, Repulses,
or ill Usage, are apt to mistake their Spleen for Philosophy; Men of
profligate Lives, and such as find themselves incapable of rising to
any Distinction among their Fellow-Creatures, are for pulling down all
Appearances of Merit, which seem to upbraid them: and Satirists
describe nothing but Deformity. From all these Hands we have such
Draughts of Mankind as are represented in those burlesque Pictures,
which the _Italians_ call _Caracatura's;_ where the Art consists in
preserving, amidst distorted Proportions and aggravated Features, some
distinguishing Likeness of the Person, but in such a manner as to
transform the most agreeable Beauty into the most odious Monster.
'It is very disingenuous to level the best of Mankind with the worst,
and for the Faults of Particulars to degrade the whole Species. Such
Methods tend not only to remove a Man's good Opinion of others, but to
destroy that Reverence for himself, which is a great Guard of
Innocence, and a Spring of Virtue.
'It is true indeed that there are surprizing Mixtures of Beauty and
Deformity, of Wisdom and Folly, Virtue and Vice, in the Human Make;
such a Disparity is found among Numbers of the same Kind, and every
Individual, in some Instances, or at some Times, is so unequal to
himself, that _Man_ seems to be the most wavering and inconsistent
Being in the whole Creation. So that the Question in Morality,
concerning the Dignity of our Nature, may at first sight appear like
some difficult Questions in Natural Philosophy, in which the Arguments
on both Sides seem to be of equal Strength. But as I began with
considering this Point as it relates to Action, I shall here borrow an
admirable Reflection from Monsieur _Pascal_, which I think sets it in
its proper Light.
'_It is of dangerous Consequence_, says he, _to represent to Man how
near he is to the Level of Beasts, without shewing him at the same
time his_ Greatness. _It is likewise dangerous to let him see his
Greatness, without his_ Meanness. _It is more dangerous yet to leave
him ignorant of either; but very beneficial that he should be made
sensible of both._ [1]
Whatever Imperfections we may have in our Nature, it is the Business
of Religion and Virtue to rectify them, as far as is consistent with
our present State. In the mean time, it is no small Encouragement to
generous Minds to consider that we shall put them all off with our
Mortality. That sublime Manner of Salutation with which the _Jews_
approached their Kings,
O King, _live for ever!_
may be addressed to the lowest and most despised Mortal among us,
under all the Infirmities and Distresses with which we see him
surrounded. And whoever believes the _Immortality of the Soul_, will
not need a better Argument for the Dignity of his Nature, nor a
stronger Incitement to Actions suitable to it.
'I am naturally led by this Reflection to a Subject I have already
touched upon in a former Letter, and cannot without pleasure call to
mind the Thoughts of _Cicero_ to this purpose, in the close of his
Book concerning _Old Age_. Every one who is acquainted with his
Writings, will remember that the elder _Cato_ is introduced in that
Discourse as the Speaker, and _Scipio_ and _Lelius_ as his Auditors.
This venerable Person is represented looking forward as it were from
the Verge of extreme Old Age, into a future State, and rising into a
Contemplation on the unperishable Part of his Nature, and its
Existence after Death. I shall collect Part of his Discourse. And as
you have formerly offered some Arguments for the Soul's Immortality,
agreeable both to Reason and the Christian Doctrine, I believe your
Readers will not be displeased to see how the same great Truth shines
in the Pomp of _Roman_ Eloquence.
"This, says _Cato_, my firm Persuasion, that since the human Soul
exerts it self with so great Activity, since it has such a
Remembrance of the Past, such a Concern for the Future, since it is
enriched with so many Arts, Sciences and Discoveries, it is
impossible but the Being which contains all these must be Immortal.
"The elder _Cyrus_, just before his Death, is represented by
XENOPHON speaking after this Manner."
'_Think not, my dearest Children, that when I depart from you I
shall be no more, but remember, that my Soul, even while I lived
among you, was invisible to you; yet by my Actions you were
sensible it existed in this Body. Believe it therefore existing
still, though it be still unseen. How quickly would the Honours of
illustrious Men perish after Death, if their Souls performed
nothing to preserve their Fame? For my own part, I never could
think that the Soul while in a mortal Body, lives, but when
departed out of it, dies; or that its Consciousness is lost when
it is discharged out of an unconscious Habitation. But when it is
freed from all corporeal Alliance, then it truly exists. Further,
since the Human Frame is broken by Death, tell us what becomes of
its Parts? It is visible whither the Materials of other Beings are
translated, namely to the Source from whence they had their Birth.
The Soul alone, neither present nor departed, is the Object of our
Eyes._' [2]
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