[290] Nichols ascribes this paper to Addison, upon the evidence of MS.
notes of Christopher Byron, who assisted Zachary Grey in his edition of
"Hudibras." This is probably right, but the paper is not included in
Tickell's edition of Addison's works.
[291] The "Partridge's Almanac" for 1710 was brought out by the
Stationers' Company, and not by Partridge. The following advertisement
appeared in No. 105 of the _Tatler_: "There having of late in several
newspapers been an advertisement of an almanac called _Merlinus
Liberatus_, pretended to be made by J. Partridge, but in truth was
patched together by Benjamin Harris, famous for practices of this
nature, this notice is given, to prevent persons from being imposed
upon; for there will not be any almanac published by J. Partridge for
the year 1710, the injunction granted by the Lord High Chancellor
against printing the same being still in force; and if any person shall
deal in any counterfeit almanacs, they will be proceeded against."
As Partridge is often mentioned in the _Tatler_ (see Nos. 1, 7, 11, 56,
59, 67, 99, 216, 228, 240), it may be well to give some particulars
of him in addition to what is stated in the Introduction. Partridge
was born at East Sheen in 1644, and was apprenticed to a shoemaker;
but he studied assiduously, and, giving up his trade, began to publish
astrological books in 1678. His almanac, _Merlinus Liberatus_, appeared
first in 1680, and in 1682 he described himself as sworn physician
to Charles II. Afterwards he went to Leyden, and claimed to have
received the degree of M. D. During the closing years of the century
he had controversies with other almanac makers, and advertised quack
medicines. When Swift attacked him in 1708 he was rightly regarded as
being at the head of his profession. For a time he was silenced; no
almanac appeared from 1710 to 1713; but his _Merlinus Redivivus_ was
issued in 1714, with an attack upon Swift. Partridge died at Mortlake
in 1715, and a monument to his memory was erected in the churchyard.
His will shows that he left property amounting to over £2000. It is
said that his real name was Hewson.
[292] See No. 26.
[293] See No. 85.
[294] See No. 26.
[295] An ivy-bush often formed the sign of a tavern. Sometimes the word
was applied to the tavern itself, _e.g._ "Twenty to one you will find
him at the bush."
[296] See No. 85.
No. 97. [ADDISON.
From _Saturday, Nov. 19_, to _Tuesday, Nov. 22, 1709_.
Illud maxime rarum genus est eorum, qui aut excellente ingenii
magnitudine, aut præclara erudidione atque doctrina, aut
utraque re ornati, spatium deliberandi habuerunt, quem
potissimum vitæ cursum sequi vellent.--CICERO, De Offic. I.
xxxiii. 119.
_From my own Apartment, Nov. 21._
Having swept away prodigious multitudes in my last paper, and brought
a great destruction upon my own species, I must endeavour in this to
raise fresh recruits, and, if possible, to supply the places of the
unborn and the deceased. It is said of Xerxes, that when he stood upon
a hill, and saw the whole country round him covered with his army, he
burst out in tears, to think that not one of that multitude would be
alive a hundred years after. For my part, when I take a survey of this
populous city, I can scarce forbear weeping, to see how few of its
inhabitants are now living. It was with this thought that I drew up
my last bill of mortality, and endeavoured to set out in it the great
number of persons who have perished by a distemper (commonly known by
the name of Idleness) which has long raged in the world, and destroys
more in every great town than the plague has done at Dantzic.[297] To
repair the mischief it has done, and stock the world with a better race
of mortals, I have more hopes of bringing to life those that are young,
than of reviving those that are old. For which reason, I shall here
set down that noble allegory which was written by an old author called
Prodicus, but recommended and embellished by Socrates.[298] It is the
description of Virtue and Pleasure making their court to Hercules under
the appearances of two beautiful women.
When Hercules, says the divine moralist, was in that part of his youth
in which it was natural for him to consider what course of life he
ought to pursue, he one day retired into a desert, where the silence
and solitude of the place very much favoured his meditations. As he was
musing on his present condition, and very much perplexed in himself
on the state of life he should choose, he saw two women of a larger
stature than ordinary approaching towards him. One of them had a very
noble air and graceful deportment; her beauty was natural and easy,
her person clean and unspotted, her eyes cast towards the ground with
an agreeable reserve, her motion and behaviour full of modesty, and
her raiment as white as snow. The other had a great deal of health and
floridness in her countenance, which she had helped with an artificial
white and red, and endeavoured to appear more graceful than ordinary in
her mien, by a mixture of affectation in all her gestures. She had a
wonderful confidence and assurance in her looks, and all the variety of
colours in her dress that she thought were the most proper to show her
complexion to an advantage.
She cast her eyes upon herself, then turned them on those that were
present, to see how they liked her, and often looked on the figure
she made in her own shadow. Upon her nearer approach to Hercules, she
stepped before the other lady (who came forward with a regular composed
carriage), and running up to him, accosted him after the following
manner:
"My dear Hercules," says she, "I find you are very much divided in
your own thoughts upon the way of life that you ought to choose: be my
friend, and follow me; I'll lead you into the possession of pleasure,
and out of the reach of pain, and remove you from all the noise and
disquietude of business. The affairs of either war or peace shall have
no power to disturb you. Your whole employment shall be to make your
life easy, and to entertain every sense with its proper gratification.
Sumptuous tables, beds of roses, clouds of perfumes, concerts of music,
crowds of beauties, are all in a readiness to receive you. Come along
with me into this region of delights, this world of pleasure, and bid
farewell for ever to care, to pain, to business."
Hercules hearing the lady talk after this manner, desired to know
her name; to which she answered, "My friends, and those who are well
acquainted with me, call me Happiness; but my enemies, and those who
would injure my reputation, have given me the name of Pleasure."
By this time the other lady was come up, who addressed herself to the
young hero in a very different manner.
"Hercules," says she, "I offer myself to you, because I know you are
descended from the gods, and give proofs of that descent by your love
to virtue, and application to the studies proper for your age. This
makes me hope you will gain both for yourself and me an immortal
reputation. But before I invite you into my society and friendship,
I will be open and sincere with you, and must lay down this as an
established truth, that there is nothing truly valuable which can be
purchased without pains and labour.[299] The gods have set a price upon
every real and noble pleasure. If you would gain the favour of the
Deity, you must be at the pains of worshipping him; if the friendship
of good men, you must study to oblige them; if you would be honoured
by your country, you must take care to serve it. In short, if you
would be eminent in war or peace, you must become master of all the
qualifications that can make you so. These are the only terms and
conditions upon which I can propose happiness." The goddess of Pleasure
here broke in upon her discourse: "You see, "said she, "Hercules, by
her own confession, the way to her pleasures is long and difficult,
whereas that which I propose is short and easy." "Alas!" said the other
lady, whose visage glowed with a passion made up of scorn and pity,
"what are the pleasures you propose? To eat before you are hungry,
drink before you are athirst, sleep before you are tired, to gratify
appetites before they are raised, and raise such appetites as Nature
never planted. You never heard the most delicious music, which is the
praise of one's self; nor saw the most beautiful object, which is the
work of one's own hands. Your votaries pass away their youth in a dream
of mistaken pleasures, while they are hoarding up anguish, torment, and
remorse, for old age.
"As for me, I am the friend of gods and of good men, an agreeable
companion to the artisan, a household guardian to the fathers of
families, a patron and protector of servants, an associate in all
true and generous friendships. The banquets of my votaries are never
costly, but always delicious; for none eat or drink at them who are
not invited by hunger and thirst. Their slumbers are sound, and their
wakings cheerful. My young men have the pleasure of hearing themselves
praised by those who are in years, and those who are in years of being
honoured by those who are young. In a word, my followers are favoured
by the gods, beloved by their acquaintance, esteemed by their country,
and (after the close of their labours) honoured by posterity."
We know by the life of this memorable hero, to which of these two
ladies he gave up his heart; and I believe, every one who reads this
will do him the justice to approve his choice.
I very much admire the speeches of these ladies, as containing in
them the chief arguments for a life of virtue or a life of pleasure
that could enter into the thoughts of a heathen; but am particularly
pleased with the different figures he gives the two goddesses. Our
modern authors have represented Pleasure or Vice with an alluring face,
but ending in snakes and monsters: here she appears in all the charms
of beauty, though they are all false and borrowed; and by that means,
composes a vision entirely natural and pleasing.
I have translated this allegory for the benefit of the youth of Great
Britain; and particularly of those who are still in the deplorable
state of non-existence, and whom I most earnestly entreat to come into
the world. Let my embryos show the least inclination to any single
virtue, and I shall allow it to be a struggling towards birth. I don't
expect of them, that, like the hero in the foregoing story, they should
go about as soon as they are born, with a club in their hands, and
a lion's skin on their shoulders, to root out monsters, and destroy
tyrants; but as the finest author of all antiquity has said upon
this very occasion, though a man has not the abilities to distinguish
himself in the most shining parts of a great character, he has
certainly the capacity of being just, faithful, modest, and temperate.