Having read the two following Letters with much Pleasure, I cannot but
think the good Sense of them will be as agreeable to the Town as any
thing I could say either on the Topicks they treat of, or any other.
They both allude to former Papers of mine, and I do not question but the
first, which is upon inward Mourning, will be thought the Production of
a Man who is well acquainted with the generous Earnings of Distress in a
manly Temper, which is above the Relief of Tears. A Speculation of my
own on that Subject I shall defer till another Occasion.
The second Letter is from a Lady of a Mind as great as her
Understanding. There is perhaps something in the Beginning of it which I
ought in Modesty to conceal; but I have so much Esteem for this
Correspondent, that I will not alter a Tittle of what she writes, tho' I
am thus scrupulous at the Price of being Ridiculous.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
'I was very well pleased with your Discourse upon General Mourning,
and should be obliged to you if you would enter into the Matter more
deeply, and give us your Thoughts upon the common Sense the ordinary
People have of the Demonstrations of Grief, who prescribe Rules and
Fashions to the most solemn Affliction; such as the Loss of the
nearest Relations and dearest Friends. You cannot go to visit a sick
Friend, but some impertinent Waiter about him observes the Muscles of
your Face, as strictly as if they were Prognosticks of his Death or
Recovery. If he happens to be taken from you, you are immediately
surrounded with Numbers of these Spectators, who expect a melancholy
Shrug of your Shoulders, a Pathetical shake of your Head, and an
Expressive Distortion of your Face, to measure your Affection and
Value for the Deceased: But there is nothing, on these Occasions, so
much in their Favour as immoderate Weeping. As all their passions are
superficial, they imagine the Seat of Love and Friendship to be placed
visibly in the Eyes: They judge what Stock of Kindness you had for the
Living, by the Quantity of Tears you pour out for the Dead; so that if
one Body wants that Quantity of Salt-water another abounds with, he is
in great Danger of being thought insensible or ill-natured: They are
Strangers to Friendship, whose Grief happens not to be moist enough to
wet such a Parcel of Handkerchiefs. But Experience has told us,
nothing is so fallacious as this outward Sign of Sorrow; and the
natural History of our Bodies will teach us that this Flux of the
Eyes, this Faculty of Weeping, is peculiar only to some Constitutions.
We observe in the tender Bodies of Children, when crossed in their
little Wills and Expectations, how dissolvable they are into Tears. If
this were what Grief is in Men, Nature would not be able to support
them in the Excess of it for one Moment. Add to this Observation, how
quick is their Transition from this Passion to that of their Joy. I
won't say we see often, in the next tender Things to Children, Tears
shed without much Grieving. Thus it is common to shed Tears without
much Sorrow, and as common to suffer much Sorrow without shedding
Tears. Grief and Weeping are indeed frequent Companions, but, I
believe, never in their highest Excesses. As Laughter does not proceed
from profound Joy, so neither does Weeping from profound Sorrow. The
Sorrow which appears so easily at the Eyes, cannot have pierced deeply
into the Heart. The Heart distended with Grief, stops all the Passages
for Tears or Lamentations.
'Now, Sir, what I would incline you to in all this, is, that you would
inform the shallow Criticks and Observers upon Sorrow, that true
Affliction labours to be invisible, that it is a Stranger to Ceremony,
and that it bears in its own Nature a Dignity much above the little
Circumstances which are affected under the Notion of Decency. You must
know, Sir, I have lately lost a dear Friend, for whom I have not yet
shed a Tear, and for that Reason your Animadversions on that Subject
would be the more acceptable to',
SIR,
_Your most humble Servant_,
B.D.
June _the_ 15_th_.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
'As I hope there are but few who have so little Gratitude as not to
acknowledge the Usefulness of your Pen, and to esteem it a Publick
Benefit; so I am sensible, be that as it will, you must nevertheless
find the Secret and Incomparable Pleasure of doing Good, and be a
great Sharer in the Entertainment you give. I acknowledge our Sex to
be much obliged, and I hope improved, by your Labours, and even your
Intentions more particularly for our Service. If it be true, as 'tis
sometimes said, that our Sex have an Influence on the other, your
Paper may be a yet more general Good. Your directing us to Reading is
certainly the best Means to our Instruction; but I think, with you,
Caution in that Particular very useful, since the Improvement of our
Understandings may, or may not, be of Service to us, according as it
is managed. It has been thought we are not generally so Ignorant as
Ill-taught, or that our Sex does so often want Wit, Judgment, or
Knowledge, as the right Application of them: You are so well-bred, as
to say your fair Readers are already deeper Scholars than the Beaus,
and that you could name some of them that talk much better than
several Gentlemen that make a Figure at _Will's_: This may possibly
be, and no great Compliment, in my Opinion, even supposing your
Comparison to reach _Tom's_ and the _Grecian_: Surely you are too wise
to think That a Real Commendation of a Woman. Were it not rather to be
wished we improved in our own Sphere, and approved our selves better
Daughters, Wives, Mothers, and Friends?
I can't but agree with the Judicious Trader in _Cheapside_ (though I
am not at all prejudiced in his Favour) in recommending the Study of
Arithmetick; and must dissent even from the Authority which you
mention, when it advises the making our Sex Scholars. Indeed a little
more Philosophy, in order to the Subduing our Passions to our Reason,
might be sometimes serviceable, and a Treatise of that Nature I should
approve of, even in exchange for _Theodosius_, or _The Force of Love_;
but as I well know you want not Hints, I will proceed no further than
to recommend the Bishop of _Cambray's Education of a Daughter, as 'tis
translated into the only Language I have any Knowledge of, [2] tho'
perhaps very much to its Disadvantage. I have heard it objected
against that Piece, that its Instructions are not of general Use, but
only fitted for a great Lady; but I confess I am not of that Opinion;
for I don't remember that there are any Rules laid down for the
Expences of a Woman, in which Particular only I think a Gentlewoman
ought to differ from a Lady of the best Fortune, or highest Quality,
and not in their Principles of Justice, Gratitude, Sincerity,
Prudence, or Modesty. I ought perhaps to make an Apology for this long
Epistle; but as I rather believe you a Friend to Sincerity, than
Ceremony, shall only assure you I am,
T. SIR,
_Your most humble Servant_,
Annabella.
[Footnote 1: Seneca, Citation omitted also in the early reprints.]
[Footnote 2: Fenelon was then living. He died in 1715, aged 63.]
* * * * *
No. 96 Wednesday, June 20, 1711. Steele.
... Amicum
Mancipium domino, et frugi ...
Hor.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I have frequently read your Discourse upon Servants, and, as I am one
my self, have been much offended that in that Variety of Forms wherein
you considered the Bad, you found no Place to mention the Good. There
is however one Observation of yours I approve, which is, That there
are Men of Wit and good Sense among all Orders of Men; and that
Servants report most of the Good or Ill which is spoken of their
Masters. That there are Men of Sense who live in Servitude, I have the
Vanity to say I have felt to my woful Experience. You attribute very
justly the Source of our general Iniquity to Board-Wages, and the
Manner of living out of a domestick Way: But I cannot give you my
Thoughts on this Subject any way so well, as by a short account of my
own Life to this the Forty fifth Year of my Age; that is to say, from
my being first a Foot-boy at Fourteen, to my present Station of a
Nobleman's Porter in the Year of my Age above-mentioned. Know then,
that my Father was a poor Tenant to the Family of Sir _Stephen
Rackrent:_ Sir _Stephen_ put me to School, or rather made me follow
his Son _Harry_ to School, from my Ninth Year; and there, tho' Sir
_Stephen_ paid something for my Learning, I was used like a Servant,
and was forced to get what Scraps of Learning I could by my own
Industry, for the Schoolmaster took very little Notice of me. My young
Master was a Lad of very sprightly Parts; and my being constantly
about him, and loving him, was no small Advantage to me. My Master
loved me extreamly, and has often been whipped for not keeping me at a
Distance. He used always to say, That when he came to his Estate I
should have a Lease of my Father's Tenement for nothing. I came up to
Town with him to _Westminster_ School; at which time he taught me at
Night all he learnt; and put me to find out Words in the Dictionary
when he was about his Exercise. It was the Will of Providence that
Master _Harry_ was taken very ill of a Fever, of which he died within
Ten Days after his first falling sick. Here was the first Sorrow I
ever knew; and I assure you, Mr. SPECTATOR, I remember the beautiful
Action of the sweet Youth in his Fever, as fresh as if it were
Yesterday. If he wanted any thing, it must be given him by _Tom:_ When
I let any thing fall through the Grief I was under, he would cry, Do
not beat the poor Boy: Give him some more Julep for me, no Body else
shall give it me. He would strive to hide his being so bad, when he
saw I could not bear his being in so much Danger, and comforted me,
saying, _Tom, Tom,_ have a good Heart. When I was holding a Cup at his
Mouth, he fell into Convulsions; and at this very Time I hear my dear
Master's last Groan. I was quickly turned out of the Room, and left to
sob and beat my Head against the Wall at my Leisure. The Grief I was
in was inexpressible; and every Body thought it would have cost me my
Life. In a few Days my old Lady, who was one of the Housewives of the
World, thought of turning me out of Doors, because I put her in mind
of her Son. Sir _Stephen_ proposed putting me to Prentice; but my
Lady being an excellent Manager, would not let her Husband throw away
his Money in Acts of Charity. I had sense enough to be under the
utmost Indignation, to see her discard with so little Concern, one her
Son had loved so much; and went out of the House to ramble wherever my
Feet would carry me.
The third Day after I left Sir _Stephen's_ Family, I was strolling up
and down the Walks in the _Temple_. A young Gentleman of the House,
who (as I heard him say afterwards) seeing me half-starved and
well-dressed, thought me an Equipage ready to his Hand, after very
little Inquiry more than _Did I want a Master?,_ bid me follow him;
I did so, and in a very little while thought myself the happiest
Creature in this World. My Time was taken up in carrying Letters to
Wenches, or Messages to young Ladies of my Master's Acquaintance. We
rambled from Tavern to Tavern, to the Play-house, the
Mulberry-Garden,[1] and all places of Resort; where my Master engaged
every Night in some new Amour, in which and Drinking he spent all his
Time when he had Money. During these Extravagancies I had the Pleasure
of lying on the Stairs of a Tavern half a Night, playing at Dice with
other Servants, and the like Idleness. When my Master was moneyless,
I was generally employ'd in transcribing amorous Pieces of Poetry, old
Songs, and new Lampoons. This Life held till my Master married, and he
had then the Prudence to turn me off, because I was in the Secret of
his Intreagues.
I was utterly at a loss what Course to take next; when at last I
applied my self to a Fellow-sufferer, one of his Mistresses, a Woman
of the Town. She happening at that time to be pretty full of Money,
cloathed me from Head to Foot, and knowing me to be a sharp Fellow,
employed me accordingly. Sometimes I was to go abroad with her, and
when she had pitched upon a young Fellow she thought for her Turn, I
was to be dropped as one she could not trust. She would often cheapen
Goods at the _New Exchange_[1] and when she had a mind to be
attacked, she would send me away on an Errand. When an humble Servant
and she were beginning a Parley, I came immediately, and told her Sir
_John_ was come home; then she would order another Coach to prevent
being dogged. The Lover makes Signs to me as I get behind the Coach, I
shake my Head it was impossible: I leave my Lady at the next Turning,
and follow the Cully to know how to fall in his Way on another
Occasion. Besides good Offices of this Nature, I writ all my
Mistress's Love-Letters; some from a Lady that saw such a Gentleman at
such a Place in such a coloured Coat, some shewing the Terrour she was
in of a jealous old Husband, others explaining that the Severity of
her Parents was such (tho' her Fortune was settled) that she was
willing to run away with such a one, tho' she knew he was but a
younger Brother. In a Word, my half Education and Love of idle Books,
made me outwrite all that made Love to her by way of Epistle; and as
she was extremely cunning, she did well enough in Company by a skilful
Affectation of the greatest Modesty. In the midst of all this I was
surprised with a Letter from her and a Ten Pound Note.
_Honest_ Tom,
You will never see me more. I am married to a very cunning Country
Gentleman, who might possibly guess something if I kept you still;
therefore farewell.
When this Place was lost also in Marriage, I was resolved to go among
quite another People, for the future; and got in Butler to one of
those Families where there is a Coach kept, three or four Servants, a
clean House, and a good general Outside upon a small Estate. Here I
lived very comfortably for some Time,'till I unfortunately found my
Master, the very gravest Man alive, in the Garret with the
Chambermaid. I knew the World too well to think of staying there; and
the next Day pretended to have received a Letter out of the Country
that my Father was dying, and got my Discharge with a Bounty for my
Discretion.
The next I lived with was a peevish single man, whom I stayed with for
a Year and a Half. Most part of the Time I passed very easily; for
when I began to know him, I minded no more than he meant what he said;
so that one Day in a good Humour he said _I was the best man he ever
had, by my want of respect to him_.
These, Sir, are the chief Occurrences of my Life; and I will not dwell
upon very many other Places I have been in, where I have been the
strangest Fellow in the World, where no Body in the World had such
Servants as they, where sure they were the unluckiest People in the
World in Servants; and so forth. All I mean by this Representation,
is, to shew you that we poor Servants are not (what you called us too
generally) all Rogues; but that we are what we are, according to the
Example of our Superiors. In the Family I am now in, I am guilty of no
one Sin but Lying; which I do with a grave Face in my Gown and Staff
every Day I live, and almost all Day long, in denying my Lord to
impertinent Suitors, and my Lady to unwelcome Visitants. But, Sir, I
am to let you know that I am, when I get abroad, a Leader of the
Servants: I am he that keep Time with beating my Cudgel against the
Boards in the Gallery at an Opera; I am he that am touched so properly
at a Tragedy, when the People of Quality are staring at one another
during the most important Incidents: When you hear in a Crowd a Cry in
the right Place, an Humm where the Point is touched in a Speech, or an
Hussa set up where it is the Voice of the People; you may conclude it
is begun or joined by,
T. _SIR,
Your more than Humble Servant,_
Thomas Trusty
[Footnote 1: A place of open-air entertainment near Buckingham House.
Sir Charles Sedley named one of his plays after it.]
[Footnote 2: In the Strand, between Durham Yard and York Buildings; in
the 'Spectator's' time the fashionable mart for milliners. It was taken
down in 1737.]
* * * * *
No. 97. Thursday, June 21, 1711. Steele.
'Projecere animas.'
Virg.
Among the loose Papers which I have frequently spoken of heretofore, I
find a Conversation between _Pharamond_ and _Eucrate_ upon the Subject
of Duels, and the Copy of an Edict issued in Consequence of that
Discourse.
_Eucrate_ argued, that nothing but the most severe and vindictive
Punishments, such as placing the Bodies of the Offenders in Chains, and
putting them to Death by the most exquisite Torments, would be
sufficient to extirpate a Crime which had so long prevailed and was so
firmly fixed in the Opinion of the World as great and laudable; but the
King answered, That indeed Instances of Ignominy were necessary in the
Cure of this Evil; but considering that it prevailed only among such as
had a Nicety in their Sense of Honour, and that it often happened that a
Duel was fought to save Appearances to the World, when both Parties were
in their Hearts in Amity and Reconciliation to each other; it was
evident that turning the Mode another way would effectually put a Stop
to what had Being only as a Mode. That to such Persons, Poverty and
Shame were Torments sufficient, That he would not go further in
punishing in others Crimes which he was satisfied he himself was most
Guilty of, in that he might have prevented them by speaking his
Displeasure sooner. Besides which the King said, he was in general
averse to Tortures, which was putting Human Nature it self, rather than
the Criminal, to Disgrace; and that he would be sure not to use this
Means where the Crime was but an ill Effect arising from a laudable
Cause, the Fear of Shame. The King, at the same time, spoke with much
Grace upon the Subject of Mercy; and repented of many Acts of that kind
which had a magnificent Aspect in the doing, but dreadful Consequences
in the Example. Mercy to Particulars, he observed, was Cruelty in the
General: That though a Prince could not revive a Dead Man by taking the
Life of him who killed him, neither could he make Reparation to the next
that should die by the evil Example; or answer to himself for the
Partiality, in not pardoning the next as well as the former Offender.
'As for me, says _Pharamond_, I have conquer'd _France_, and yet have
given Laws to my People: The Laws are my Methods of Life; they are not
a Diminution but a Direction to my Power. I am still absolute to
distinguish the Innocent and the Virtuous, to give Honours to the
Brave and Generous: I am absolute in my Good-will: none can oppose my
Bounty, or prescribe Rules for my Favour. While I can, as I please,
reward the Good, I am under no Pain that I cannot pardon the Wicked:
For which Reason, continued _Pharamond_, I will effectually put a stop
to this Evil, by exposing no more the Tenderness of my Nature to the
Importunity of having the same Respect to those who are miserable by
their Fault, and those who are so by their Misfortune. Flatterers
(concluded the King smiling) repeat to us Princes, that we are
Heaven's Vice-regents; Let us be so, and let the only thing out of our
Power be _to do Ill_.'
'Soon after the Evening wherein _Pharamond_ and _Eucrate_ had this
Conversation, the following Edict was Published.
_Pharamond's_ Edict against Duels.
Pharamond, _King of the_ Gauls, _to all his loving Subjects sendeth
Greeting_.
Whereas it has come to our Royal Notice and Observation, that in
contempt of all Laws Divine and Human, it is of late become a Custom
among the Nobility and Gentry of this our Kingdom, upon slight and
trivial, as well as great and urgent Provocations, to invite each
other into the Field, there by their own Hands, and of their own
Authority, to decide their Controversies by Combat; We have thought
fit to take the said Custom into our Royal Consideration, and find,
upon Enquiry into the usual Causes whereon such fatal Decisions have
arisen, that by this wicked Custom, maugre all the Precepts of our
Holy Religion, and the Rules of right Reason, the greatest Act of the
human Mind, _Forgiveness of Injuries_, is become vile and shameful;
that the Rules of Good Society and Virtuous Conversation are hereby
inverted; that the Loose, the Vain, and the Impudent, insult the
Careful, the Discreet, and the Modest; that all Virtue is suppressed,
and all Vice supported, in the one Act of being capable to dare to the
Death. We have also further, with great Sorrow of Mind, observed that
this Dreadful Action, by long Impunity, (our Royal Attention being
employed upon Matters of more general Concern) is become Honourable,
and the Refusal to engage in it Ignominious. In these our Royal Cares
and Enquiries We are yet farther made to understand, that the Persons
of most Eminent Worth, and most hopeful Abilities, accompanied with
the strongest Passion for true Glory, are such as are most liable to
be involved in the Dangers arising from this Licence. Now taking the
said Premises into our serious Consideration, and well weighing that
all such Emergencies (wherein the Mind is incapable of commanding it
self, and where the Injury is too sudden or too exquisite to be born)
are particularly provided for by Laws heretofore enacted; and that the
Qualities of less Injuries, like those of Ingratitude, are too nice
and delicate to come under General Rules; We do resolve to blot this
Fashion, or Wantonness of Anger, out of the Minds of Our Subjects, by
Our Royal Resolutions declared in this Edict, as follow.
No Person who either Sends or Accepts a Challenge, or the Posterity of
either, tho' no Death ensues thereupon, shall be, after the
Publication of this our Edict, capable of bearing Office in these our
Dominions.
The Person who shall prove the sending or receiving a Challenge, shall
receive to his own Use and Property, the whole Personal Estate of both
Parties: and their Real Estate shall be immediately vested in the next
Heir of the Offenders in as ample Manner as if the said Offenders were
actually Deceased.
In Cases where the Laws (which we have already granted to our
Subjects) admit of an Appeal for Blood; when the Criminal is condemned
by the said Appeal, He shall not only suffer Death, but his whole
Estate, Real, Mixed, and Personal, shall from the Hour of his Death be
vested in the next Heir of the Person whose Blood he spilt.
That it shall not hereafter be in our Royal Power, or that of our
Successors, to pardon the said Offences, or restore [the Offenders
[1]] in their Estates, Honour, or Blood for ever.
_Given at our Court at_ Blois, _the 8th of_ February, 420. _In the
Second Year of our Reign_.