[Footnote 1: in]
[Footnote 2: In 1609 the Button-Makers sent a petition to Parliament,
which produced the Act of the 8th year of Anne (1709), framed because
'the maintenance and subsistence of many thousands of men, women and
children depends upon the making of silk, mohair, gimp, and thread
buttons, and button-holes with the needle,' and these have been ruined
by 'a late unforeseen practice of making and binding button-holes with
cloth, serge,' &c.]
* * * * *
No. 176. Friday, September 21, 1711. Steele.
'Parvula, pumilio, [Greek: charít_on mia], lota merum Sal.'
Luc.
There are in the following Letter Matters, which I, a Batchelor, cannot
be supposed to be acquainted with; therefore shall not pretend to
explain upon it till further Consideration, but leave the Author of the
Epistle to express his Condition his own Way.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR.
'I do not deny but you appear in many of your Papers to understand
Human Life pretty well; but there are very many Things which you
cannot possibly have a true Notion of, in a single Life; these are
such as respect the married State; otherwise I cannot account for your
having overlooked a very good Sort of People, which are commonly
called in Scorn the _Henpeckt_. You are to understand that I am one of
those innocent Mortals who suffer Derision under that Word for being
governed by the best of Wives. It would be worth your Consideration to
enter into the Nature of Affection it self, and tell us, according to
your Philosophy, why it is that our Dears shall do what they will with
us, shall be froward, ill-natured, assuming, sometimes whine, at
others rail, then swoon away, then come to Life, have the Use of
Speech to the greatest Fluency imaginable, and then sink away again,
and all because they fear we do not love them enough: that is, the
poor things love us so heartily, that they cannot think it possible we
should be able to love them in so great a Degree, which makes them
take on so. I say, Sir, a true good-natured Man, whom Rakes and
Libertines call _Hen-peckt_, shall fall into all these different Moods
with his dear Life, and at the same time see they are wholly put on;
and yet not be hard-hearted enough to tell the dear good Creature that
she is an Hypocrite. This sort of good Man is very frequent in the
populous and wealthy City of _London_, and is the true _Hen-peckt_
Man; the kind Creature cannot break through his Kindnesses so far as
to come to an Explanation with the tender Soul, and therefore goes on
to comfort her when nothing ails her, to appease her when she is not
angry, and to give her his Cash when he knows she does not want it;
rather than be uneasy for a whole Month, which is computed by
hard-hearted Men the Space of Time which a froward Woman takes to come
to her self, if you have Courage to stand out.
There are indeed several other Species of the _Hen-peckt_, and in my
Opinion they are certainly the best Subjects the Queen has; and for
that Reason I take it to be your Duty to keep us above Contempt.
I do not know whether I make my self understood in the Representation
of an Hen-peckt Life, but I shall take leave to give you an Account of
my self, and my own Spouse. You are to know that I am reckoned no
Fool, have on several Occasions been tried whether I will take ill
Usage, and yet the Event has been to my Advantage; and yet there is
not such a Slave in _Turkey_ as I am to my Dear. She has a good Share
of Wit, and is what you call a very pretty agreeable Woman. I
perfectly doat on her, and my Affection to her gives me all the
Anxieties imaginable but that of Jealousy. My being thus confident of
her, I take, as much as I can judge of my Heart, to be the Reason,
that whatever she does, tho' it be never so much against my
Inclination, there is still left something in her Manner that is
amiable. She will sometimes look at me with an assumed Grandeur, and
pretend to resent that I have not had Respect enough for her Opinion
in such an Instance in Company. I cannot but smile at the pretty Anger
she is in, and then she pretends she is used like a Child. In a Word,
our great Debate is, which has the Superiority in point of
Understanding. She is eternally forming an Argument of Debate; to
which I very indolently answer, Thou art mighty pretty. To this she
answers, All the World but you think I have as much Sense as your
self. I repeat to her, Indeed you are pretty. Upon this there is no
Patience; she will throw down any thing about her, stamp and pull off
her Head-Cloaths. Fie, my Dear, say I; how can a Woman of your Sense
fall into such an intemperate Rage? This is an Argument which never
fails. Indeed, my Dear, says she, you make me mad sometimes, so you
do, with the silly Way you have of treating me like a pretty Idiot.
Well, what have I got by putting her into good Humour? Nothing, but
that I must convince her of my good Opinion by my Practice; and then I
am to give her Possession of my little Ready Money, and, for a Day and
half following, dislike all she dislikes, and extol every thing she
approves. I am so exquisitely fond of this Darling, that I seldom see
any of my Friends, am uneasy in all Companies till I see her again;
and when I come home she is in the Dumps, because she says she is sure
I came so soon only because I think her handsome. I dare not upon this
Occasion laugh; but tho' I am one of the warmest Churchmen in the
Kingdom, I am forced to rail at the Times, because she is a violent
Whig. Upon this we talk Politicks so long, that she is convinc'd I
kiss her for her Wisdom. It is a common Practice with me to ask her
some Question concerning the Constitution, which she answers me in
general out of _Harington's Oceana_ [1]: Then I commend her strange
Memory, and her Arm is immediately lock'd in mine. While I keep her in
this Temper she plays before me, sometimes dancing in the Midst of the
Room, sometimes striking an Air at her Spinnet, varying her Posture
and her Charms in such a Manner that I am in continual Pleasure: She
will play the Fool if I allow her to be wise; but if she suspects I
like her for [her] Trifling, she immediately grows grave.
These are the Toils in which I am taken, and I carry off my Servitude
as well as most Men; but my Application to you is in Behalf of the
_Hen-peckt_ in general, and I desire a Dissertation from you in
Defence of us. You have, as I am informed, very good Authorities in
our Favour, and hope you will not omit the mention of the Renowned
_Socrates_, and his Philosophick Resignation to his Wife _Xantippe_.
This would be a very good Office to the World in general, for the
_Hen-peckt_ are powerful in their Quality and Numbers, not only in
Cities but in Courts; in the latter they are ever the most obsequious,
in the former the most wealthy of all Men. When you have considered
Wedlock throughly, you ought to enter into the Suburbs of Matrimony,
and give us an Account of the Thraldom of kind Keepers and irresolute
Lovers; the Keepers who cannot quit their Fair Ones tho' they see
their approaching Ruin; the Lovers who dare not marry, tho' they know
they never shall be happy without the Mistresses whom they cannot
purchase on other Terms.
What will be a great Embellishment to your Discourse, will be, that
you may find Instances of the Haughty, the Proud, the Frolick, the
Stubborn, who are each of them in secret downright Slaves to their
Wives or Mistresses. I must beg of you in the last Place to dwell upon
this, That the Wise and Valiant in all Ages have been _Hen-peckt_: and
that the sturdy Tempers who are not Slaves to Affection, owe that
Exemption to their being enthralled by Ambition, Avarice, or some
meaner Passion. I have ten thousand thousand Things more to say, but
my Wife sees me Writing, and will, according to Custom, be consulted,
if I do not seal this immediately.
_Yours_,
T. Nathaniel Henroost.'
[Footnote 1: The 'Oceana' is an ideal of an English Commonwealth,
written by James Harrington, after the execution of Charles I. It was
published in 1656, having for a time been stopped at press by Cromwell's
government. After the Restoration, Harrington was sent to the Tower by
Charles II. on a false accusation of conspiracy. Removed to Plymouth, he
there lost his health and some part of his reason, which he did not
regain before his death, in 1677, at the age of 66. His book argues that
Empire follows the balance of property, which, since Henry VII.'s time,
had been daily falling into the scale of the Commons from that of the
King and Lords. In the 'Oceana' other theories of government are
discussed before Harrington elaborates his own, and English history
appears under disguise of names, William the Conqueror being called
Turbo; King John, Adoxus; Richard II., Dicotome; Henry VII., Panurgus;
Henry VIII., Coraunus; Queen Elizabeth, Parthenia; James I., Morpheus;
and Oliver Cromwell, Olphaus Megaletor. Scotland is Marpesia, and
Ireland, Panopæa. A careful edition of Harrington's 'Oceana' and other
of his works, edited by John Toland, had been produced in 1700.]
* * * * *
No. 177. Saturday, September 22, 1711. Addison.
'... Quis enim bonus, aut face dignus
Arcanâ, qualem Cereris vult esse sacerdos,
Ulla aliena sibi credat mala?'
Juv.
In one of my last Week's Papers I treated of Good-Nature, as it is the
Effect of Constitution; I shall now speak of it as it is a Moral Virtue.
The first may make a Man easy in himself and agreeable to others, but
implies no Merit in him that is possessed of it. A Man is no more to be
praised upon this Account, than because he has a regular Pulse or a good
Digestion. This Good-Nature however in the Constitution, which Mr.
_Dryden_ somewhere calls a _Milkiness of Blood_, [1] is an admirable
Groundwork for the other. In order therefore to try our Good-Nature,
whether it arises from the Body or the Mind, whether it be founded in
the Animal or Rational Part of our Nature; in a word, whether it be such
as is entituled to any other Reward, besides that secret Satisfaction
and Contentment of Mind which is essential to it, and the kind Reception
it procures us in the World, we must examine it by the following Rules.
First, whether it acts with Steadiness and Uniformity in Sickness and in
Health, in Prosperity and in Adversity; if otherwise, it is to be looked
upon as nothing else but an Irradiation of the Mind from some new Supply
of Spirits, or a more kindly Circulation of the Blood. _Sir Francis
Bacon_ mentions a cunning Solicitor, [who [2]] would never ask a Favour
of a great Man before Dinner; but took care to prefer his Petition at a
Time when the Party petitioned had his Mind free from Care, and his
Appetites in good Humour. Such a transient temporary Good-Nature as
this, is not that _Philanthropy_, that Love of Mankind, which deserves
the Title of a Moral Virtue.
The next way of a Man's bringing his Good-Nature to the Test, is, to
consider whether it operates according to the Rules of Reason and Duty:
For if, notwithstanding its general Benevolence to Mankind, it makes no
Distinction between its Objects, if it exerts it self promiscuously
towards the Deserving and Undeserving, if it relieves alike the Idle and
the Indigent, if it gives it self up to the first Petitioner, and lights
upon any one rather by Accident than Choice, it may pass for an amiable
Instinct, but must not assume the Name of a Moral Virtue.
The third Tryal of Good-Nature will be, the examining ourselves, whether
or no we are able to exert it to our own Disadvantage, and employ it on
proper Objects, notwithstanding any little Pain, Want, or Inconvenience
which may arise to our selves from it: In a Word, whether we are willing
to risque any Part of our Fortune, our Reputation, our Health or Ease,
for the Benefit of Mankind. Among all these Expressions of Good-Nature,
I shall single out that which goes under the general Name of Charity, as
it consists in relieving the Indigent; that being a Tryal of this Kind
which offers itself to us almost at all Times and in every Place.
I should propose it as a Rule to every one who is provided with any
Competency of Fortune more than sufficient for the Necessaries of Life,
to lay aside a certain Proportion of his Income for the Use of the Poor.
This I would look upon as an Offering to him who has a Right to the
whole, for the Use of those whom, in the Passage hereafter mentioned, he
has described as his own Representatives upon Earth. At the same time we
should manage our Charity with such Prudence and Caution, that we may
not hurt our own Friends or Relations, whilst we are doing Good to those
who are Strangers to us.
This may possibly be explained better by an Example than by a Rule.
_Eugenius_ is a Man of an universal Good-Nature, and generous beyond the
Extent of his Fortune; but withal so prudent in the Oeconomy of his
Affairs, that what goes out in Charity is made up by good Management.
_Eugenius_ has what the World calls Two hundred Pounds a Year; but never
values himself above Ninescore, as not thinking he has a Right to the
Tenth Part, which he always appropriates to charitable Uses. To this Sum
he frequently makes other voluntary Additions, insomuch that in a good
Year, for such he accounts those in which he has been able to make
greater Bounties than ordinary, he has given above twice that Sum to the
Sickly and Indigent. _Eugenius_ prescribes to himself many particular
Days of Fasting and Abstinence, in order to increase his private Bank of
Charity, and sets aside what would be the current Expences of those
Times for the Use of the Poor. He often goes afoot where his Business
calls him, and at the End of his Walk has given a Shilling, which in his
ordinary Methods of Expence would have gone for Coach-Hire, to the first
Necessitous Person that has fallen in his way. I have known him, when he
has been going to a Play or an Opera, divert the Money which was
designed for that Purpose, upon an Object of Charity whom he has met
with in the Street; and afterwards pass his Evening in a Coffee-House,
or at a Friend's Fire-side, with much greater Satisfaction to himself
than he could have received from the most exquisite Entertainments of
the Theatre. By these means he is generous, without impoverishing
himself, and enjoys his Estate by making it the Property of others.
There are few Men so cramped in their private Affairs, who may not be
charitable after this manner, without any Disadvantage to themselves, or
Prejudice to their Families. It is but sometimes sacrificing a Diversion
or Convenience to the Poor, and turning the usual Course of our Expences
into a better Channel. This is, I think, not only the most prudent and
convenient, but the most meritorious Piece of Charity, which we can put
in practice. By this Method we in some measure share the Necessities of
the Poor at the same time that we relieve them, and make ourselves not
only [their Patrons, [3]] but their Fellow Sufferers.
Sir _Thomas Brown_, in the last Part of his _Religio Medici_, in which
he describes his Charity in several Heroick Instances, and with a noble
Heat of Sentiments, mentions that Verse in the Proverbs of _Solomon, He
that giveth to the Poor, lendeth to the Lord_. [4]
'There is more Rhetorick in that one Sentence, says he, than in a
Library of Sermons; and indeed if those Sentences were understood by
the Reader, with the same Emphasis as they are delivered by the
Author, we needed not those Volumes of Instructions, but might be
honest by an Epitome. [5]'
This Passage in Scripture is indeed wonderfully persuasive; but I think
the same Thought is carried much further in the New Testament, where our
Saviour tells us in a most pathetick manner, that he shall hereafter
regard the Cloathing of the Naked, the Feeding of the Hungry, and the
Visiting of the Imprisoned, as Offices done to himself, and reward them
accordingly. [6] Pursuant to those Passages in Holy Scripture, I have
somewhere met with the Epitaph of a charitable Man, which has very much
pleased me. I cannot recollect the Words, but the Sense of it is to this
Purpose; What I spent I lost; what I possessed is left to others; what I
gave away remains with me. [7]
Since I am thus insensibly engaged in Sacred Writ, I cannot forbear
making an Extract of several Passages which I have always read with
great Delight in the Book of _Job_. It is the Account which that Holy
Man gives of his Behaviour in the Days of his Prosperity, and, if
considered only as a human Composition, is a finer Picture of a
charitable and good-natured Man than is to be met with in any other
Author.
_Oh that I were as in Months past, as in the Days when God preserved
me: When his Candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I
walked through darkness: When the Almighty was yet with me: when my
Children were about me: When I washed my steps with butter, and the
rock poured out rivers of oyl.
When the Ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the Eye saw me, it
gave witness to me. Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the
fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him
that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the Widow's Heart
to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame;
I was a father to the poor, and the cause which I knew not I searched
out. Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my Soul
grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in an even ballance, that God
may know mine Integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man-servant
or my maid-servant when they contended with me: What then shall I do
when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did
not he that made me in the womb, make him? and did not one fashion us
in the womb? If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have
caused the eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself
alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten thereof: If I have seen any
perish for want of cloathing, or any poor without covering: If his
loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece
of my sheep: If I have lift up my hand against the fatherless, when I
saw my help in the gate; then let mine arm fall from my
shoulder-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. If I have
rejoiced at the Destruction of him that hated me, or lift up myself
when evil found him: (Neither have I suffered my mouth to sin, by
wishing a curse to his soul). The stranger did not lodge in the
street; but I opened my doors to the traveller. If my land cry against
me, or that the furrows likewise thereof complain: If I have eaten the
Fruits thereof without mony, or have caused the owners thereof to lose
their Life; Let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of
barley_. [8]
[Footnote 1: Cleomenes to Pantheus,
'Would I could share thy Balmy, even Temper,
And Milkiness of Blood.'
'Cleomenes', Act i. sc. I.]
[Footnote 2: that]
[Footnote 3: the Patrons of the Indigent]
[Footnote 4: 'Proverbs' xix. 17.]
[Footnote 5: 'Rel. Med.' Part II. sect. 13.]
[Footnote 6: 'Matt.' xxi. 31, &c.]
[Footnote 7: The Epitaph was in St. George's Church at Doncaster, and
ran thus:
'How now, who is heare?
I Robin of Doncastere
And Margaret my feare.
That I spent, that I had;
That I gave, that I have;
That I left, that I lost.']
[Footnote 8: 'Job' xxix. 2, &c.; xxx. 25, &c.; xxxi. 6, &c.]
* * * * *
No. 178. Monday, September 24, 1711. Steele.
'Comis in uxorem ...'
Hor.