[Footnote 1: of a]
[Footnote 2: The death of Charles II of Spain, which gave occasion for
the general war of the Spanish succession, took place in 1700. John V,
King of Portugal, died in 1706, and the Emperor Joseph I died on the
17th of April, 1711, less than a month before this paper was written.
The black suit that was now 'scouring for the Emperor' was, therefore,
more than ten years old, and had been turned five years ago.]
* * * * *
No. 65. Tuesday, May 15, 1711. Steele.
'... Demetri teque Tigelli
Discipularum inter jubeo plorare cathedras.'
Hor.
After having at large explained what Wit is, and described the false
Appearances of it, all that Labour seems but an useless Enquiry, without
some Time be spent in considering the Application of it. The Seat of
Wit, when one speaks as a Man of the Town and the World, is the
Play-house; I shall therefore fill this Paper with Reflections upon the
Use of it in that Place. The Application of Wit in the Theatre has as
strong an Effect upon the Manners of our Gentlemen, as the Taste of it
has upon the Writings of our Authors. It may, perhaps, look like a very
presumptuous Work, though not Foreign from the Duty of a SPECTATOR, to
tax the Writings of such as have long had the general Applause of a
Nation; But I shall always make Reason, Truth, and Nature the Measures
of Praise and Dispraise; if those are for me, the Generality of Opinion
is of no Consequence against me; if they are against me, the general
Opinion cannot long support me.
Without further Preface, I am going to look into some of our most
applauded Plays, and see whether they deserve the Figure they at present
bear in the Imagination of Men, or not.
In reflecting upon these Works, I shall chiefly dwell upon that for
which each respective Play is most celebrated. The present Paper shall
be employed upon Sir _Fopling Flutter_. [1] The received Character of
this Play is, That it is the Pattern of Genteel Comedy. _Dorimant_ and
_Harriot_ are the Characters of greatest Consequence, and if these are
Low and Mean, the Reputation of the Play is very Unjust.
I will take for granted, that a fine Gentleman should be honest in his
Actions, and refined in his Language. Instead of this, our Hero in this
Piece is a direct Knave in his Designs, and a Clown in his Language.
_Bellair_ is his Admirer and Friend; in return for which, because he is
forsooth a greater Wit than his said Friend, he thinks it reasonable to
persuade him to marry a young Lady, whose Virtue, he thinks, will last
no longer than till she is a Wife, and then she cannot but fall to his
Share, as he is an irresistible fine Gentleman. The Falshood to Mrs.
_Loveit_, and the Barbarity of Triumphing over her Anguish for losing
him, is another Instance of his Honesty, as well as his Good-nature. As
to his fine Language; he calls the Orange-Woman, who, it seems, is
inclined to grow Fat, _An Over-grown Jade, with a Flasket of Guts before
her_; and salutes her with a pretty Phrase of _How now, Double Tripe_?
Upon the mention of a Country Gentlewoman, whom he knows nothing of, (no
one can imagine why) he _will lay his Life she is some awkward
ill-fashioned Country Toad, who not having above four Dozen of Hairs on
her Head, has adorned her Baldness with a large white Fruz, that she may
look Sparkishly in the Forefront of the King's Box at an old Play_.
Unnatural Mixture of senseless Common-Place!
As to the Generosity of his Temper, he tells his poor Footman, _If he
did not wait better_--he would turn him away, in the insolent Phrase of,
_I'll uncase you_.
Now for Mrs. _Harriot_: She laughs at Obedience to an absent Mother,
whose Tenderness _Busie_ describes to be very exquisite, for _that she
is so pleased with finding_ Harriot _again, that she cannot chide her
for being out of the way_. This Witty Daughter, and fine Lady, has so
little Respect for this good Woman, that she Ridicules her Air in taking
Leave, and cries, _In what Struggle is my poor Mother yonder? See, see,
her Head tottering, her Eyes staring, and her under Lip trembling_. But
all this is atoned for, because _she has more Wit than is usual in her
Sex, and as much Malice, tho' she is as Wild as you would wish her and
has a Demureness in her Looks that makes it so surprising!_ Then to
recommend her as a fit Spouse for his Hero, the Poet makes her speak her
Sense of Marriage very ingeniously: _I think_, says she, _I might be
brought to endure him, and that is all a reasonable Woman should expect
in an Husband_. It is, methinks, unnatural that we are not made to
understand how she that was bred under a silly pious old Mother, that
would never trust her out of her sight, came to be so Polite.
It cannot be denied, but that the Negligence of every thing, which
engages the Attention of the sober and valuable Part of Mankind, appears
very well drawn in this Piece: But it is denied, that it is necessary to
the Character of a Fine Gentleman, that he should in that manner trample
upon all Order and Decency. As for the Character of _Dorimant_, it is
more of a Coxcomb than that of _Fopling_. He says of one of his
Companions, that a good Correspondence between them is their mutual
Interest. Speaking of that Friend, he declares, their being much
together _makes the Women think the better of his Understanding, and
judge more favourably of my Reputation. It makes him pass upon some for
a Man of very good Sense, and me upon others for a very civil Person_.
This whole celebrated Piece is a perfect Contradiction to good Manners,
good Sense, and common Honesty; and as there is nothing in it but what
is built upon the Ruin of Virtue and Innocence, according to the Notion
of Merit in this Comedy, I take the Shoemaker to be, in reality, the
Fine Gentleman of the Play: For it seems he is an Atheist, if we may
depend upon his Character as given by the Orange-Woman, who is her self
far from being the lowest in the Play. She says of a Fine Man who is
_Dorimant's_ Companion, There _is not such another Heathen in the Town,
except the Shoemaker_. His Pretension to be the Hero of the _Drama_
appears still more in his own Description of his way of Living with his
Lady. _There is_, says he, _never a Man in Town lives more like a
Gentleman with his Wife than I do; I never mind her Motions; she never
enquires into mine. We speak to one another civilly, hate one another
heartily; and because it is Vulgar to Lye and Soak together, we have
each of us our several Settle-Bed_. That of _Soaking together_ is as
good as if _Dorimant_ had spoken it himself; and, I think, since he puts
Human Nature in as ugly a Form as the Circumstances will bear, and is a
staunch Unbeliever, he is very much Wronged in having no part of the
good Fortune bestowed in the last Act.
To speak plainly of this whole Work, I think nothing but being lost to a
sense of Innocence and Virtue can make any one see this Comedy, without
observing more frequent Occasion to move Sorrow and Indignation, than
Mirth and Laughter. At the same time I allow it to be Nature, but it is
Nature in its utmost Corruption and Degeneracy. [2]