T.

[Footnote 1: Charles Lillie, the perfumer, from whose shop at the corner

of Beaufort Buildings the original Spectators were distributed, left

behind him a book of receipts and observations, The British Perfumer,

Snuff Manufacturer, and Colourmans Guide, of which the MS. was sold

with his business, but which remained unpublished until 1822. He opens

his Part III. on Snuffs with an account of the Origin of Snuff-taking

in England, the practice being one that had become fashionable in his

day, and only about eight years before the appearance of the Spectator.

It dates from Sir George Rooke's expedition against Cadiz in 1702.

Before that time snuff-taking in England was confined to a few luxurious

foreigners and English who had travelled abroad. They took their snuff

with pipes of the size of quills out of small spring boxes. The pipes

let out a very small quantity upon the back of the hand, and this was

snuffed up the nostrils with the intention of producing a sneeze which,

says Lillie, I need not say forms now no part of the design or rather

fashion of snuff-taking; least of all in the ladies who took part in

this method of snuffing defiance at the public enemy. When the fleet,

after the failure of its enterprize against Cadiz, proceeded to cut off

the French ships in Vigobay, on the way it plundered Port St. Mary and

adjacent places, where, among other merchandize, seizure was made of

several thousand barrels and casks, each containing four tin canisters

of snuffs of the best growth and finest Spanish manufacture. At Vigo,

among the merchandize taken from the shipping there destroyed, were

prodigious quantities of gross snuff, from the Havannah, in bales,

bags, and scrows (untanned buffalo hides, used with the hairy-side

inwards, for making packages), which were designed for manufacture in

different parts of Spain. Altogether fifty tons of snuff were brought

home as part of the prize of the officers and sailors of the fleet. Of

the coarse snuff, called Vigo snuff, the sailors, among whom it was

shared, sold waggon-loads at Portsmouth, Plymouth, and Chatham, for not

more than three-pence or four-pence a pound. The greater part of it was

bought up by Spanish Jews, to their own very considerable profit. The

fine snuffs taken at Port St. Mary, and divided among the officers, were

sold by some of them at once for a small price, while others held their

stocks and, as the snuff so taken became popular and gave a patriotic

impulse to the introduction of a fashion which had hitherto been almost

confined to foreigners, they got very high prices for it. This accounts

for the fact that the ladies too had added the use of the perfumed

snuff-box to their other fashionable accomplishments.]

* * * * *

No. 345. Saturday, April 5, 1712. Addison.

Sanctius his animal, mentisque capacius altæ

Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in coetera posset,

Natus homo est.

Ov. Met.

The Accounts which Raphael gives of the Battel of Angels, and the

Creation of the World, have in them those Qualifications which the

Criticks judge requisite to an Episode. They are nearly related to the

principal Action, and have a just Connexion with the Fable.

The eighth Book opens with a beautiful Description of the Impression

which this Discourse of the Archangel made on our first Parent[s]. Adam

afterwards, by a very natural Curiosity, enquires concerning the Motions

of those Celestial Bodies which make the most glorious Appearance among

the six days Works. The Poet here, with a great deal of Art, represents

Eve as withdrawing from this part of their Conversation, to Amusements

more suitable to her Sex. He well knew, that the Episode in this Book,

which is filled with Adams Account of his Passion and Esteem for Eve,

would have been improper for her hearing, and has therefore devised very

just and beautiful Reasons for her Retiring.

So spake our Sire, and by his Countenance seem'd

Entring on studious Thoughts abstruse: which Eve

Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight,

With lowliness majestick, from her Seat,

And Grace, that won who saw to wish her Stay,

Rose; and went forth among her Fruits and Flowers

To visit how they prosper'd, Bud and Bloom,

Her Nursery: they at her coming sprung,

And touch'd by her fair Tendance gladlier grew.

Yet went she not, as not with such Discourse

Delighted, or not capable her Ear

Of what was high: Such Pleasure she reserved,

Adam relating, she sole Auditress;

Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd

Before the Angel, and of him to ask

Chose rather: he, she knew, would intermix

Grateful Digressions, and solve high Dispute

With conjugal Caresses; from his Lip

Not Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now

Such Pairs, in Love and mutual Honour join'd!

The Angels returning a doubtful Answer to Adams Enquiries, was not

only proper for the Moral Reason which the Poet assigns, but because it

would have been highly absurd to have given the Sanction of an Archangel

to any particular System of Philosophy. The chief Points in the

Ptolemaick and Copernican Hypothesis are described with great

Conciseness and Perspicuity, and at the same time dressed in very

pleasing and poetical Images.

Adam, to detain the Angel, enters afterwards upon his own History, and

relates to him the Circumstances in which he found himself upon his

Creation; as also his Conversation with his Maker, and his first meeting

with Eve. There is no part of the Poem more apt to raise the Attention

of the Reader, than this Discourse of our great Ancestor; as nothing can

be more surprizing and delightful to us, than to hear the Sentiments

that arose in the first Man while he was yet new and fresh from the

Hands of his Creator. The Poet has interwoven every thing which is

delivered upon this Subject in Holy Writ with so many beautiful

Imaginations of his own, that nothing can be conceived more just and

natural than this whole Episode. As our Author knew this Subject could

not but be agreeable to his Reader, he would not throw it into the

Relation of the six days Works, but reserved it for a distinct Episode,

that he might have an opportunity of expatiating upon it more at large.

Before I enter on this part of the Poem, I cannot but take notice of two

shining Passages in the Dialogue between Adam and the Angel. The first

is that wherein our Ancestor gives an Account of the pleasure he took in

conversing with him, which contains a very noble Moral.

For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heavn,

And sweeter thy Discourse is to my Ear

Than Fruits of Palm-tree (pleasantest to Thirst

And Hunger both from Labour) at the hour

Of sweet Repast: they satiate, and soon fill,

Tho pleasant; but thy Words with Grace divine

Imbu'd, bring to their Sweetness no Satiety.

The other I shall mention, is that in which the Angel gives a Reason why

he should be glad to hear the Story Adam was about to relate.

For I that day was absent, as befel,

Bound on a Voyage uncouth and obscure;

Far on Excursion towards the Gates of Hell,

Squar'd in full Legion [such Command we had]

To see that none thence issued forth a Spy,

Or Enemy; while God was in his Work,

Lest he, incens'd at such Eruption bold,

Destruction with Creation might have mix'd.

There is no question but our Poet drew the Image in what follows from

that in Virgil's sixth Book, where Æneas and the Sibyl stand before the

Adamantine Gates, which are there described as shut upon the Place of

Torments, and listen to the Groans, the Clank of Chains, and the Noise

of Iron Whips, that were heard in those Regions of Pain and Sorrow.

--Fast we found, fast shut

The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong;

But long ere our Approaching heard within

Noise, other than the Sound of Dance or Song,

Torment, and loud Lament, and furious Rage.

Adam then proceeds to give an account of his Condition and Sentiments

immediately after his Creation. How agreeably does he represent the

Posture in which he found himself, the beautiful Landskip that

surrounded him, and the Gladness of Heart which grew up in him on that

occasion?

--As new waked from soundest Sleep,

Soft on the flowry Herb I found me laid

In balmy Sweat, which with his Beams the Sun

Soon dried, and on the reaking Moisture fed.

Streight towards Heavn my wondring Eyes I turn'd,

And gazed awhile the ample Sky, till rais'd

By quick instinctive Motion, up I sprung,

As thitherward endeavouring, and upright

Stood on my Feet: About me round I saw

Hill, Dale, and shady Woods, and sunny Plains,

And liquid lapse of murmuring Streams; by these

Creatures that liv'd, and mov'd, and walked, or flew,

Birds on the Branches warbling; all things smil'd:

With Fragrance, and with Joy my Heart o'erflow'd.

Adam is afterwards describ'd as surprized at his own Existence, and

taking a Survey of himself, and of all the Works of Nature. He likewise

is represented as discovering by the Light of Reason, that he and every

thing about him must have been the Effect of some Being infinitely good

and powerful, and that this Being had a right to his Worship and

Adoration. His first Address to the Sun, and to those Parts of the

Creation which made the most distinguished Figure, is very natural and

amusing to the Imagination.

--Thou Sun, said I, fair Light,

And thou enlighten'd Earth, so fresh and gay,

Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods and Plains,

And ye that live and move, fair Creatures tell,

Tell if you saw, how came I thus, how here?

His next Sentiment, when upon his first going to sleep he fancies

himself losing his Existence, and falling away into nothing, can never

be sufficiently admired. His Dream, in which he still preserves the

Consciousness of his Existence, together with his removal into the

Garden which was prepared for his Reception, are also Circumstances

finely imagined, and grounded upon what is delivered in Sacred Story.

These and the like wonderful Incidents in this Part of the Work, have in

them all the Beauties of Novelty, at the same time that they have all

the Graces of Nature. They are such as none but a great Genius could

have thought of, tho, upon the perusal of them, they seem to rise of

themselves from the Subject of which he treats. In a word, tho they are

natural, they are not obvious, which is the true Character of all fine

Writing.

The Impression which the Interdiction of the Tree of Life left in the

Mind of our first Parent, is describ'd with great Strength and Judgment;

as the Image of the several Beasts and Birds passing in review before

him is very beautiful and lively.

--Each Bird and Beast behold

Approaching two and two, these cowring low

With Blandishment; each Bird stoop'd on his Wing:

I nam'd them as they pass'd--

Adam, in the next place, describes a Conference which he held with his

Maker upon the Subject of Solitude. The Poet here represents the supreme

Being, as making an Essay of his own Work, and putting to the tryal that

reasoning Faculty, with which he had endued his Creature. Adam urges, in

this Divine Colloquy, the Impossibility of his being happy, tho he was

the Inhabitant of Paradise, and Lord of the whole Creation, without the

Conversation and Society of some rational Creature, who should partake

those Blessings with him. This Dialogue, which is supported chiefly by

the Beauty of the Thoughts, without other poetical Ornaments, is as fine

a Part as any in the whole Poem: The more the Reader examines the

Justness and Delicacy of its Sentiments, the more he will find himself

pleased with it. The Poet has wonderfully preserved the Character of

Majesty and Condescension in the Creator, and at the same time that of

Humility and Adoration in the Creature, as particularly in the following

Lines:

Thus I presumptuous; and the Vision bright,

As with a Smile more bright-tied, thus reply'd, &c.

--I, with leave of Speech implor'd

And humble Deprecation, thus reply d:

Let not my Words offend thee, Heavnly Power,

My Maker, be propitious while I speak, &c.

Adam then proceeds to give an account of his second Sleep, and of the

Dream in which he beheld the Formation of Eve. The new Passion that was

awaken'd in him at the sight of her, is touch'd very finely.

Under his forming Hands a Creature grew,

Manlike, but different Sex: so lovely fair,

That what seem'd fair in all the World, seemed now

Mean, or in her summ'd up, in her contained,

And in her Looks; which from that time infused

Sweetness info my Heart, unfelt before:

And into all things from her Air inspired

The Spirit of Love and amorous Delight.

Adams Distress upon losing sight of this beautiful Phantom, with his

Exclamations of Joy and Gratitude at the discovery of a real Creature,

who resembled the Apparition which had been presented to him in his

Dream; the Approaches he makes to her, and his Manner of Courtship; are

all laid together in a most exquisite Propriety of Sentiments.

Tho this Part of the Poem is work'd up with great Warmth and Spirit,

the Love which is described in it is every way suitable to a State of

Innocence. If the Reader compares the Description which Adam here gives

of his leading Eve to the Nuptial Bower, with that which Mr. Dryden has

made on the same occasion in a Scene of his Fall of Man, he will be

sensible of the great care which Milton took to avoid all Thoughts on so

delicate a Subject, that might be offensive to Religion or Good-Manners.

The Sentiments are chaste, but not cold; and convey to the Mind Ideas of

the most transporting Passion, and of the greatest Purity. What a noble

Mixture of Rapture and Innocence has the Author join'd together, in the

Reflection which Adam makes on the Pleasures of Love, compared to those

of Sense.

Thus have I told thee all my State, and brought

My Story to the sum of earthly Bliss,

Which I enjoy; and must confess to find

In all things else Delight indeed, but such

As us'd or not, works in the Mind no Change

Nor vehement Desire; these Delicacies

I mean of Taste, Sight, Smell, Herbs, Fruits, and Flowers,

Walks, and the Melody of Birds: but here

Far otherwise, transported I behold,

Transported touch; here Passion first I felt,

Commotion strange! in all Enjoyments else

Superiour and unmov'd, here only weak

Against the Charms of Beauty's powerful Glance.

Or Nature fail'd in me, and left some Part

Not Proof enough such Object to sustain;

Or from my Side subducting, took perhaps

More than enough; at least on her bestowed

Too much of Ornament in outward shew

Elaborate, of inward less exact.

--When I approach

Her Loveliness, so absolute she seems

And in herself compleat, so well to know

Her own, that what she wills to do or say

Seems wisest, vertuousest, discreetest, best:

All higher Knowledge in her Presence falls

Degraded: Wisdom in discourse with her

Loses discountenanced, and like Folly shews;

Authority and Reason on her wait,

As one intended first, not after made

Occasionally: and to consummate all,

Greatness of Mind, and Nobleness their Seat

Build in her loveliest, and create an Awe

About her, as a Guard angelick plac'd.

These Sentiments of Love, in our first Parent, gave the Angel such an

Insight into Humane Nature, that he seems apprehensive of the Evils

which might befall the Species in general, as well as Adam in

particular, from the Excess of this Passion. He therefore fortifies him

against it by timely Admonitions; which very artfully prepare the Mind

of the Reader for the Occurrences of the next Book, where the Weakness

of which Adam here gives such distant Discoveries, brings about that

fatal Event which is the Subject of the Poem. His Discourse, which

follows the gentle Rebuke he received from the Angel, shews that his

Love, however violent it might appear, was still founded in Reason, and

consequently not improper for Paradise.

Neither her outside Form so fair, nor aught

In Procreation common to all kinds,

(Tho higher of the genial Bed by far,

And with mysterious Reverence I deem)

So much delights me, as those graceful Acts,

Those thousand Decencies that daily flow

From all her Words and Actions, mixt with Love

And sweet Compliance, which declare unfeign'd

Union of Mind, or in us both one Soul;

Harmony to behold in--wedded Pair!

Adams Speech, at parting with the Angel, has in it a Deference and

Gratitude agreeable to an inferior Nature, and at the same time a

certain Dignity and Greatness suitable to the Father of Mankind in his

State of Innocence.