A certain Vice which you have lately attacked, has not yet been

considered by you as growing so deep in the Heart of Man, that the

Affectation outlives the Practice of it. You must have observed that

Men who have been bred in Arms preserve to the most extreme and feeble

old Age a certain Daring in their Aspect: In like manner, they who

have pass'd their Time in Gallantry and Adventure, keep up, as well as

they can, the Appearance of it, and carry a petulant Inclination to

their last Moments. Let this serve for a Preface to a Relation I am

going to give you of an old Beau in Town, that has not only been

amorous, and a Follower of Women in general, but also, in Spite of the

Admonition of grey Hairs, been from his sixty-third Year to his

present seventieth, in an actual Pursuit of a young Lady, the Wife of

his Friend, and a Man of Merit. The gay old Escalus has Wit, good

Health, and is perfectly well bred; but from the Fashion and Manners

of the Court when he was in his Bloom, has such a natural Tendency to

amorous Adventure, that he thought it would be an endless Reproach to

him to make no use of a Familiarity he was allowed at a Gentleman's

House, whose good Humour and Confidence exposed his Wife to the

Addresses of any who should take it in their Head to do him the good

Office. It is not impossible that Escalus might also resent that the

Husband was particularly negligent of him; and tho he gave many

Intimations of a Passion towards the Wife, the Husband either did not

see them, or put him to the Contempt of over-looking them. In the mean

time Isabella, for so we shall call our Heroine, saw his Passion, and

rejoiced in it as a Foundation for much Diversion, and an Opportunity

of indulging her self in the dear Delight of being admired, addressed

to, and flattered, with no ill Consequence to her Reputation. This

Lady is of a free and disengaged Behaviour, ever in good Humour, such

as is the Image of Innocence with those who are innocent, and an

Encouragement to Vice with those who are abandoned. From this Kind of

Carriage, and an apparent Approbation of his Gallantry, Escalus had

frequent Opportunities of laying amorous Epistles in her Way, of

fixing his Eyes attentively upon her Action, of performing a thousand

little Offices which are neglected by the Unconcerned, but are so many

Approaches towards Happiness with the Enamoured. It was now, as is

above hinted, almost the End of the seventh Year of his Passion, when

Escalus from general Terms, and the ambiguous Respect which criminal

Lovers retain in their Addresses, began to bewail that his Passion

grew too violent for him to answer any longer for his Behaviour

towards her; and that he hoped she would have Consideration for his

long and patient Respect, to excuse the Motions of a Heart now no

longer under the Direction of the unhappy Owner of it. Such for some

Months had been the Language of Escalus both in his Talk and his

Letters to Isabella; who returned all the Profusion of kind Things

which had been the Collection of fifty Years with I must not hear you;

you will make me forget that you are a Gentleman, I would not

willingly lose you as a Friend; and the like Expressions, which the

Skilful interpret to their own Advantage, as well knowing that a

feeble Denial is a modest Assent. I should have told you, that

Isabella, during the whole Progress of this Amour, communicated it to

her Husband; and that an Account of Escalus's Love was their usual

Entertainment after half a Days Absence: Isabella therefore, upon her

Lovers late more open Assaults, with a Smile told her Husband she

could hold out no longer, but that his Fate was now come to a Crisis.

After she had explained her self a little farther, with her Husbands

Approbation she proceeded in the following Manner. The next Time that

Escalus was alone with her, and repeated his Importunity, the crafty

Isabella looked on her Fan with an Air of great Attention, as

considering of what Importance such a Secret was to her; and upon the

Repetition of a warm Expression, she looked at him with an Eye of

Fondness, and told him he was past that Time of Life which could make

her fear he would boast of a Lady's Favour; then turned away her Head

with a very well-acted Confusion, which favoured the Escape of the

aged Escalus. This Adventure was Matter of great Pleasantry to

Isabella and her Spouse; and they had enjoyed it two Days before

Escalus could recollect himself enough to form the following Letter.

MADAM,

"What happened the other Day, gives me a lively Image of the

Inconsistency of human Passions and Inclinations. We pursue what we

are denied, and place our Affections on what is absent, tho we

neglected it when present. As long as you refused my Love, your

Refusal did so strongly excite my Passion, that I had not once the

Leisure to think of recalling my Reason to aid me against the Design

upon your Virtue. But when that Virtue began to comply in my Favour,

my Reason made an Effort over my Love, and let me see the Baseness

of my Behaviour in attempting a Woman of Honour. I own to you, it

was not without the most violent Struggle that I gained this Victory

over my self; nay, I will confess my Shame, and acknowledge I could

not have prevailed but by Flight. However, Madam, I beg that you

will believe a Moments Weakness has not destroyed the Esteem I had

for you, which was confirmed by so many Years of Obstinate Virtue.

You have Reason to rejoice that this did not happen within the

Observation of one of the young Fellows, who would have exposed your

Weakness, and gloried in his own Brutish Inclinations.

I am, Madam,

Your most devoted Humble Servant."

Isabella, with the Help of her Husband, returned the following Answer.

SIR,

"I cannot but account my self a very happy Woman, in having a Man

for a Lover that can write so well, and give so good a Turn to a

Disappointment. Another Excellence you have above all other

Pretenders I ever heard of; on Occasions where the most reasonable

Men lose all their Reason, you have yours most powerful. We are each

of us to thank our Genius, that the Passion of one abated in

Proportion as that of the other grew violent. Does it not yet come

into your Head, to imagine that I knew my Compliance was the

greatest Cruelty I could be guilty of towards you? In Return for

your long and faithful Passion, I must let you know that you are old

enough to become a little more Gravity; but if you will leave me and

coquet it any where else, may your Mistress yield.

ISABELLA."

T.

[Footnote 1:

Rideat et pulset Lasciva decentius Ætas.

Hor.]

* * * * *

No. 319. Thursday, March 6, 1712. Budgell.

Quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo?

Hor.

I have endeavoured, in the Course of my Papers, to do Justice to the

Age, and have taken care as much as possible to keep my self a Neuter

between both Sexes. I have neither spared the Ladies out of

Complaisance, nor the Men out of Partiality; but notwithstanding the

great Integrity with which I have acted in this Particular, I find my

self taxed with an Inclination to favour my own half of the Species.

Whether it be that the Women afford a more fruitful Field for

Speculation, or whether they run more in my Head than the Men, I cannot

tell, but I shall set down the Charge as it is laid against me in the

following Letter.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I always make one among a Company of young Females, who peruse your

Speculations every Morning. I am at present Commissioned, by our whole

Assembly, to let you know, that we fear you are a little enclined to

be partial towards your own Sex. We must however acknowledge, with all

due Gratitude, that in some Cases you have given us our Revenge on the

Men, and done us Justice. We could not easily have forgiven you

several Strokes in the Dissection of the Coquets Heart, if you had

not, much about the same time, made a Sacrifice to us of a Beaus

Scull.

You may, however, Sir, please to remember, that long since you

attacked our Hoods and Commodes in such manner, as, to use your own

Expression, made very many of us ashamed to shew our Heads. We must,

therefore, beg leave to represent to you, that we are in Hopes, if you

would please to make a due Enquiry, the Men in all Ages would be found

to have been little less whimsical in adorning that Part, than our

selves. The different Forms of their Wiggs, together with the various

Cocks of their Hats, all flatter us in this Opinion.

I had an humble Servant last Summer, who the first time he declared

himself, was in a Full-Bottom'd Wigg; but the Day after, to my no

small Surprize, he accosted me in a thin Natural one. I received him,

at this our second Interview, as a perfect Stranger, but was extreamly

confounded, when his Speech discovered who he was. I resolved,

therefore, to fix his Face in my Memory for the future; but as I was

walking in the Park the same Evening, he appeared to me in one of

those Wiggs that I think you call a Night-cap, which had altered him

more effectually than before. He afterwards played a Couple of Black

Riding Wiggs upon me, with the same Success; and, in short, assumed a

new Face almost every Day in the first Month of his Courtship.

I observed afterwards, that the Variety of Cocks into which he

moulded his Hat, had not a little contributed to his Impositions upon

me.

Yet, as if all these ways were not sufficient to distinguish their

Heads, you must, doubtless, Sir, have observed, that great Numbers of

young Fellows have, for several Months last past, taken upon them to

wear Feathers.

We hope, therefore, that these may, with as much Justice, be called

Indian Princes, as you have styled a Woman in a coloured Hood an

Indian Queen; and that you will, in due time, take these airy

Gentlemen into Consideration.

We the more earnestly beg that you would put a Stop to this Practice,

since it has already lost us one of the most agreeable Members of our

Society, who after having refused several good Estates, and two

Titles, was lured from us last Week by a mixed Feather.

I am ordered to present you the Respects of our whole Company, and

am, SIR,

Your very humble Servant,

DORINDA.

Note, The Person wearing the Feather, tho our Friend took him for an

Officer in the Guards, has proved to be [an arrant Linnen-Draper. [1]]

I am not now at leisure to give my Opinion upon the Hat and Feather;

however to wipe off the present Imputation, and gratifie my Female

Correspondent, I shall here print a Letter which I lately received from

a Man of Mode, who seems to have a very extraordinary Genius in his way.

SIR,

I presume I need not inform you, that among Men of Dress it is a

common Phrase to say Mr. Such an one has struck a bold Stroke; by

which we understand, that he is the first Man who has had Courage

enough to lead up a Fashion. Accordingly, when our Taylors take

Measure of us, they always demand whether we will have a plain Suit,

or strike a bold Stroke. 1 think I may without Vanity say, that I have

struck some of the boldest and most successful Strokes of any Man in

Great Britain. I was the first that struck the Long Pocket about two

Years since: I was likewise the Author of the Frosted Button, which

when I saw the Town came readily into, being resolved to strike while

the Iron was hot, I produced much about the same time the Scallop

Flap, the knotted Cravat, and made a fair Push for the Silver-clocked

Stocking.

A few Months after I brought up the modish Jacket, or the Coat with

close Sleeves. I struck this at first in a plain Doily; but that

failing, I struck it a second time in blue Camlet; and repeated the

Stroke in several kinds of Cloth, till at last it took effect. There

are two or three young Fellows at the other End of the Town, who have

always their Eye upon me, and answer me Stroke for Stroke. I was once

so unwary as to mention my Fancy in relation to the new-fashioned

Surtout before one of these Gentlemen, who was disingenuous enough to

steal my Thought, and by that means prevented my intended Stroke.

I have a Design this Spring to make very considerable Innovations in

the Wastcoat, and have already begun with a Coup dessai upon the

Sleeves, which has succeeded very well.

I must further inform you, if you will promise to encourage or at

least to connive at me, that it is my Design to strike such a Stroke

the Beginning of the next Month, as shall surprise the whole Town.

I do not think it prudent to acquaint you with all the Particulars of

my intended Dress; but will only tell you, as a Sample of it, that I

shall very speedily appear at Whites in a Cherry-coloured Hat. I took

this Hint from the Ladies Hoods, which I look upon as the boldest

Stroke that Sex has struck for these hundred Years last past.

I am, SIR,

Your most Obedient, most Humble Servant,

Will. Sprightly.

[I have not Time at present to make any Reflections on this Letter, but

must not however omit that having shewn it to WILL. HONEYCOMB, he

desires to be acquainted with the Gentleman who writ it.]

X.

[Footnote 1: only an Ensign in the Train Bands.]

* * * * *

No. 320. Friday, March 7, 1712. Steele.

[--non pronuba Juno,

Non Hymenæus adest, non illi Gratia lecto,

Eumenides stravere torum.

Ovid. [1]]

Mr. SPECTATOR,

You have given many Hints in your Papers to the Disadvantage of

Persons of your own Sex, who lay Plots upon Women. Among other hard

Words you have published the Term Male-Coquets, and been very severe

upon such as give themselves the Liberty of a little Dalliance of

Heart, and playing fast and loose, between Love and Indifference, till

perhaps an easie young Girl is reduced to Sighs, Dreams and Tears; and

languishes away her Life for a careless Coxcomb, who looks astonished,

and wonders at such an Effect from what in him was all but common

Civility. Thus you have treated the Men who are irresolute in

Marriage; but if you design to be impartial, pray be so honest as to

print the Information I now give you, of a certain Set of Women who

never Coquet for the Matter, but with an high Hand marry whom they

please to whom they please. As for my Part, I should not have

concerned my self with them, but that I understand I am pitched upon

by them, to be married, against my Will, to one I never saw in my

Life. It has been my Misfortune, Sir, very innocently, to rejoice in a

plentiful Fortune, of which I am Master, to bespeak a fine Chariot, to

give Direction for two or three handsome Snuff-Boxes, and as many

Suits of fine Cloaths; but before any of these were ready, I heard

Reports of my being to be married to two or three different young

Women. Upon my taking Notice of it to a young Gentleman who is often

in my Company he told me smiling, I was in the Inquisition. You may

believe I was not a little startled at what he meant, and more so when

he asked me if I had bespoke any thing of late that was fine. I told

him several; upon which he produced a Description of my Person from

the Tradesmen whom I had employed, and told me that they had certainly

informed against me. Mr. SPECTATOR, Whatever the World may think of

me, I am more Coxcomb than Fool, and I grew very inquisitive upon this

Head, not a little pleased with the Novelty. My Friend told me there

were a certain Set of Women of Fashion whereof the Number of Six made

a Committee, who sat thrice a Week, under the Title of the Inquisition

on Maids and Batchelors. It seems, whenever there comes such an

unthinking gay Thing as my self to Town, he must want all Manner of

Necessaries, or be put into the Inquisition by the first Tradesman he

employs. They have constant Intelligence with Cane-Shops, Perfumers,

Toymen, Coach-makers, and China-houses. From these several Places,

these Undertakers for Marriages have as constant and regular

Correspondence, as the Funeral-men have with Vintners and

Apothecaries. All Batchelors are under their immediate Inspection, and

my Friend produced to me a Report given into their Board, wherein an

old Unkle of mine, who came to Town with me, and my self, were

inserted, and we stood thus; the Unkle smoaky, rotten, poor; the

Nephew raw, but no Fool, sound at present, very rich. My Information

did not end here, but my Friends Advices are so good, that he could

shew me a Copy of the Letter sent to the young Lady who is to have me

which I enclose to you.

Madam,

This is to let you know, that you are to be Married to a Beau that

comes out on Thursday Six in the Evening. Be at the Park. You cannot

but know a Virgin Fop; they have a Mind to look saucy, but are out

of Countenance. The Board has denied him to several good Families. I

wish you Joy.

Corinna.

What makes my Correspondents Case the more deplorable, is, that as I

find by the Report from my Censor of Marriages, the Friend he speaks of

is employed by the Inquisition to take him in, as the Phrase is. After

all that is told him, he has Information only of one Woman that is laid

for him, and that the wrong one; for the Lady-Commissioners have devoted

him to another than the Person against whom they have employed their

Agent his Friend to alarm him. The Plot is laid so well about this young

Gentleman, that he has no Friend to retire to, no Place to appear in, or

Part of the Kingdom to fly into, but he must fall into the Notice, and

be subject to the Power of the Inquisition. They have their Emissaries

and Substitutes in all Parts of this united Kingdom. The first Step they

usually take, is to find from a Correspondence, by their Messengers and

Whisperers with some Domestick of the Batchelor (who is to be hunted

into the Toils they have laid for him) what are his Manners, his

Familiarities, his good Qualities or Vices; not as the Good in him is a

Recommendation, or the ill a Diminution, but as they affect or

contribute to the main Enquiry, What Estate he has in him? When this

Point is well reported to the Board, they can take in a wild roaring

Fox-hunter, as easily as a soft, gentle young Fop of the Town. The Way

is to make all Places uneasie to him, but the Scenes in which they have

allotted him to act. His Brother Huntsmen, Bottle Companions, his

Fraternity of Fops, shall be brought into the Conspiracy against him.

Then this Matter is not laid in so bare-faced a Manner before him, as to

have it intimated Mrs. Such-a-one would make him a very proper Wife; but

by the Force of their Correspondence they shall make it (as Mr. Waller

said of the Marriage of the Dwarfs) as impracticable to have any Woman

besides her they design him, as it would have been in Adam to have

refused Eve. The Man named by the Commission for Mrs. Such-a-one, shall

neither be in Fashion, nor dare ever to appear in Company, should he

attempt to evade their Determination.

The Female Sex wholly govern domestick Life; and by this Means, when

they think fit, they can sow Dissentions between the dearest Friends,

nay make Father and Son irreconcilable Enemies, in spite of all the Ties

of Gratitude on one Part, and the Duty of Protection to be paid on the

other. The Ladies of the Inquisition understand this perfectly well; and

where Love is not a Motive to a Man's chusing one whom they allot, they

can, with very much Art, insinuate Stories to the Disadvantage of his

Honesty or Courage, till the Creature is too much dispirited to bear up

against a general ill Reception, which he every where meets with, and in

due time falls into their appointed Wedlock for Shelter. I have a long

Letter bearing Date the fourth Instant, which gives me a large Account

of the Policies of this Court; and find there is now before them a very

refractory Person who has escaped all their Machinations for two Years

last past: But they have prevented two successive Matches which were of

his own Inclination, the one, by a Report that his Mistress was to be

married, and the very Day appointed, Wedding-Clothes bought, and all

things ready for her being given to another; the second time, by

insinuating to all his Mistresss Friends and Acquaintance, that he had

been false to several other Women, and the like. The poor Man is now

reduced to profess he designs to lead a single Life; but the Inquisition

gives out to all his Acquaintance, that nothing is intended but the

Gentleman's own Welfare and Happiness. When this is urged, he talks

still more humbly, and protests he aims only at a Life without Pain or

Reproach; Pleasure, Honour or Riches, are things for which he has no

taste. But notwithstanding all this and what else he may defend himself

with, as that the Lady is too old or too young, of a suitable Humour, or

the quite contrary, and that it is impossible they can ever do other

than wrangle from June to January, Every Body tells him all this is

Spleen, and he must have a Wife; while all the Members of the

Inquisition are unanimous in a certain Woman for him, and they think

they all together are better able to judge, than he or any other private

Person whatsoever.

Temple, March 3, 1711.

Sir,

Your Speculation this Day on the Subject of Idleness, has employed me,

ever since I read it, in sorrowful Reflections on my having loitered

away the Term (or rather the Vacation) of ten Years in this Place, and

unhappily suffered a good Chamber and Study to lie idle as long. My

Books (except those I have taken to sleep upon) have been totally

neglected, and my Lord Coke and other venerable Authors were never so

slighted in their Lives. I spent most of the Day at a Neighbouring

Coffee-House, where we have what I may call a lazy Club. We generally

come in Night-Gowns, with our Stockings about our Heels, and sometimes

but one on. Our Salutation at Entrance is a Yawn and a Stretch, and

then without more Ceremony we take our Place at the Lolling Table;

where our Discourse is, what I fear you would not read out, therefore

shall not insert. But I assure you, Sir, I heartily lament this Loss

of Time, and am now resolved (if possible, with double Diligence) to

retrieve it, being effectually awakened by the Arguments of Mr. Slack

out of the Senseless Stupidity that has so long possessed me. And to

demonstrate that Penitence accompanies my Confession, and Constancy my

Resolutions, I have locked my Door for a Year, and desire you would

let my Companions know I am not within. I am with great Respect,

SIR, Your most obedient Servant,

N. B.

T.

[Footnote 1:

Hæ sunt qui tenui sudant in Cyclade.

Hor.]

* * * * *

No. 321.[1] Saturday, March 8, 1712. Addison.

Nec satis est pulchra esse poemata, dulcia sunto.

Hor.

Those, who know how many Volumes have been written on the Poems of Homer

and Virgil, will easily pardon the Length of my Discourse upon Milton.

The Paradise Lost is looked upon, by the best Judges, as the greatest

Production, or at least the noblest Work of Genius in our Language, and

therefore deserves to be set before an English Reader in its full

Beauty. For this Reason, tho I have endeavoured to give a general Idea

of its Graces and Imperfections in my Six First Papers, I thought my

self obliged to bestow one upon every Book in particular. The Three

first Books I have already dispatched, and am now entering upon the

Fourth. I need not acquaint my Reader that there are Multitudes of

Beauties in this great Author, especially in the Descriptive Parts of

his Poem, which I have not touched upon, it being my Intention to point

out those only, which appear to me the most exquisite, or those which

are not so obvious to ordinary Readers. Every one that has read the

Criticks who have written upon the Odyssey, the Iliad and the Aeneid,

knows very well, that though they agree in their Opinions of the great

Beauties in those Poems, they have nevertheless each of them discovered

several Master-Strokes, which have escaped the Observation of the rest.

In the same manner, I question not, but any Writer who shall treat of

this Subject after me, may find several Beauties in Milton, which I have

not taken notice of. I must likewise observe, that as the greatest

Masters of Critical Learning differ among one another, as to some

particular Points in an Epic Poem, I have not bound my self scrupulously

to the Rules which any one of them has laid down upon that Art, but have

taken the Liberty sometimes to join with one, and sometimes with

another, and sometimes to differ from all of them, when I have thought

that the Reason of the thing was on my side.

We may consider the Beauties of the Fourth Book under three Heads. In

the first are those Pictures of Still-Life, which we meet with in the

Description of Eden, Paradise, Adams Bower, &c. In the next are the

Machines, which comprehend the Speeches and Behaviour of the good and

bad Angels. In the last is the Conduct of Adam and Eve, who are the

Principal Actors in the Poem.

In the Description of Paradise, the Poet has observed Aristotle's Rule

of lavishing all the Ornaments of Diction on the weak unactive Parts of

the Fable, which are not supported by the Beauty of Sentiments and

Characters. [2] Accordingly the Reader may observe, that the Expressions

are more florid and elaborate in these Descriptions, than in most other

Parts of the Poem. I must further add, that tho the Drawings of

Gardens, Rivers, Rainbows, and the like dead Pieces of Nature, are

justly censured in an Heroic Poem, when they run out into an unnecessary

length; the Description of Paradise would have been faulty, had not the

Poet been very particular in it, not only as it is the Scene of the

Principal Action, but as it is requisite to give us an Idea of that

Happiness from which our first Parents fell. The Plan of it is

wonderfully Beautiful, and formed upon the short Sketch which we have of

it in Holy Writ. Milton's Exuberance of Imagination has poured forth

such a Redundancy of Ornaments on this Seat of Happiness and Innocence,

that it would be endless to point out each Particular.

I must not quit this Head, without further observing, that there is

scarce a Speech of Adam or Eve in the whole Poem, wherein the Sentiments

and Allusions are not taken from this their delightful Habitation. The

Reader, during their whole Course of Action, always finds himself in the

Walks of Paradise. In short, as the Criticks have remarked, that in

those Poems, wherein Shepherds are Actors, the Thoughts ought always to

take a Tincture from the Woods, Fields and Rivers, so we may observe,

that our first Parents seldom lose Sight of their happy Station in any

thing they speak or do; and, if the Reader will give me leave to use the

Expression, that their Thoughts are always Paradisiacal.

We are in the next place to consider the Machines of the Fourth Book.

Satan being now within Prospect of Eden, and looking round upon the

Glories of the Creation, is filled with Sentiments different from those

which he discovered whilst he was in Hell. The Place inspires him with

Thoughts more adapted to it: He reflects upon the happy Condition from

which he fell, and breaks forth into a Speech that is softned with

several transient Touches of Remorse and Self-accusation: But at length

he confirms himself in Impenitence, and in his Design of drawing Man

into his own State of Guilt and Misery. This Conflict of Passions is

raised with a great deal of Art, as the opening of his Speech to the Sun

is very bold and noble.

O thou that with surpassing Glory crown'd,

Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God

Of this new World; at whose Sight all the Stars

Hide their diminish'd Heads; to thee I call,

But with no friendly Voice, and add thy name,

O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,

That bring to my Remembrance from what State

I fell, how glorious once above thy Sphere.

This Speech is, I think, the finest that is ascribed to Satan in the

whole Poem. The Evil Spirit afterwards proceeds to make his Discoveries

concerning our first Parents, and to learn after what manner they may be

best attacked. His bounding over the Walls of Paradise; his sitting in

the Shape of a Cormorant upon the Tree of Life, which stood in the

Center of it, and overtopped all the other Trees of the Garden, his

alighting among the Herd of Animals, which are so beautifully

represented as playing about Adam and Eve, together with his

transforming himself into different Shapes, in order to hear their

Conversation, are Circumstances that give an agreeable Surprize to the

Reader, and are devised with great Art, to connect that Series of

Adventures in which the Poet has engaged [this [3]] Artificer of Fraud.

The Thought of Satan's Transformation into a Cormorant, and placing

himself on the Tree of Life, seems raised upon that Passage in the

Iliad, where two Deities are described, as perching on the Top of an Oak

in the shape of Vulturs.

His planting himself at the Ear of Eve under the [form [4]] of a Toad,

in order to produce vain Dreams and Imaginations, is a Circumstance of

the same Nature; as his starting up in his own Form is wonderfully fine,

both in the Literal Description, and in the Moral which is concealed

under it. His Answer upon his being discovered, and demanded to give an

Account of himself, [is [5]] conformable to the Pride and Intrepidity of

his Character.

Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with Scorn,

Know ye not Me? ye knew me once no mate

For you, there sitting where you durst not soar;

Not to know Me argues your selves unknown,

The lowest of your throng;--

Zephon's Rebuke, with the Influence it had on Satan, is exquisitely

Graceful and Moral. Satan is afterwards led away to Gabriel, the chief

of the Guardian Angels, who kept watch in Paradise. His disdainful

Behaviour on this Occasion is so remarkable a Beauty, that the most

ordinary Reader cannot but take Notice of it. Gabriel's discovering his

Approach at a Distance, is drawn with great strength and liveliness of

Imagination.

O Friends, I hear the tread of nimble Feet

Hasting this Way, and now by glimps discern

Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade;

And with them comes a third of Regal Port,

But faded splendor wan; who by his gait

And fierce demeanor seems the Prince of Hell;

Not likely to part hence without contest:

Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

The Conference between Gabriel and Satan abounds with Sentiments proper

for the Occasion, and suitable to the Persons of the two Speakers. Satan

cloathing himself with Terror when he prepares for the Combat is truly

sublime, and at least equal to Homers Description of Discord celebrated

by Longinus, or to that of Fame in Virgil, who are both represented with

their Feet standing upon the Earth, and their Heads reaching above the

Clouds.

While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright

Turn'd fiery red, sharpning in mooned Horns

Their Phalanx, and began to hem him round

With ported Spears, &c.

--On the other side Satan alarm'd,

Collecting all his might dilated stood

Like Teneriff, or Atlas, unremov'd.

His Stature reached the Sky, and on his Crest

Sat horror plum'd;--

I must here take [notice, [6]] that Milton is every where full of Hints

and sometimes literal Translations, taken from the greatest of the Greek

and Latin Poets. But this I may reserve for a Discourse by it self,

because I would not break the Thread of these Speculations, that are

designed for English Readers, with such Reflections as would be of no

use but to the Learned.

I must however observe in this Place, that the breaking off the Combat

between Gabriel and Satan, by the hanging out of the Golden Scales in

Heaven, is a Refinement upon Homers Thought, who tells us, that before

the Battle between Hector and Achilles, Jupiter weighed the Event of it

in a pair of Scales. The Reader may see the whole Passage in the 22nd

Iliad.

Virgil, before the last decisive Combat, describes Jupiter in the same

manner, as weighing the Fates of Turnus and Æneas. Milton, though he

fetched this beautiful Circumstance from the Iliad and Æneid, does not

only insert it as a Poetical Embellishment, like the Authors

above-mentioned; but makes an artful use of it for the proper carrying

on of his Fable, and for the breaking off the Combat between the two

Warriors, who were upon the point of engaging. [To this we may further

add, that Milton is the more justified in this Passage, as we find the

same noble Allegory in Holy Writ, where a wicked Prince, some few Hours

before he was assaulted and slain, is said to have been weighed in the

Scales, and to have been found wanting.]

I must here take Notice under the Head of the Machines, that Uriel's

gliding down to the Earth upon a Sunbeam, with the Poets Device to make

him descend, as well in his return to the Sun, as in his coming from it,

is a Prettiness that might have been admired in a little fanciful Poet,

but seems below the Genius of Milton. The Description of the Host of

armed Angels walking their nightly Round in Paradise, is of another

Spirit.

So saying, on he led his radiant files,

Dazling the Moon;--

as that Account of the Hymns which our first Parents used to hear them

sing in these their Midnight Walks, is altogether Divine, and

inexpressibly amusing to the Imagination.

We are, in the last place, to consider the Parts which Adam and Eve act

in the Fourth Book. The Description of them as they first appeared to

Satan, is exquisitely drawn, and sufficient to make the fallen Angel

gaze upon them with all that Astonishment, and those Emotions of Envy,

in which he is represented.

Two of far nobler Shape erect and tall,

God-like erect! with native honour clad

In naked Majesty, seem'd lords of all;

And worthy seem'd: for in their looks divine

The image of their glorious Maker shon,

Truth, Wisdom, Sanctitude severe and pure;

Severe, but in true filial freedom plac'd:

For contemplation he and valour form'd,

For softness she and sweet attractive grace;

He for God only, she for God in him.

His fair large front, and eye sublime, declar'd

Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks

Round from his parted forelock manly hung

Clustring, but not beneath his Shoulders broad.

She, as a Veil, down to her slender waste

Her unadorned golden tresses wore

Dis-shevel'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd.

So pass'd they naked on, nor shun'd the Sight

Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill:

So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair

That ever since in loves embraces met.

There is a fine Spirit of Poetry in the Lines which follow, wherein they

are described as sitting on a Bed of Flowers by the side of a Fountain,

amidst a mixed Assembly of Animals.

The Speeches of these two first Lovers flow equally from Passion and

Sincerity. The Professions they make to one another are full of Warmth:

but at the same time founded on Truth. In a Word, they are the

Gallantries of Paradise:

--When Adam first of Men--

Sole partner and sole part of all these joys,

Dearer thy self than all;--

But let us ever praise him, and extol

His bounty, following our delightful Task,

To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowrs;

Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.

To whom thus Eve reply'd. O thou for whom,

And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,

And without whom am to no end, my Guide

And Head, what thou hast said is just and right.

For we to him indeed all praises owe.

And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy

So far the happier Lot, enjoying thee

Preeminent by so much odds, while thou

Like consort to thy self canst no where find, &c.

The remaining part of Eves Speech, in which she gives an Account of her

self upon her first Creation, and the manner in which she was brought to

Adam, is I think as beautiful a Passage as any in Milton, or perhaps in

any other Poet whatsoever. These Passages are all worked off with so

much Art, that they are capable of pleasing the most delicate Reader,

without offending the most severe.

That Day I oft remember, when from Sleep, &c.

A Poet of less Judgment and Invention than this great Author, would have

found it very difficult to have filled [these [7]] tender Parts of the

Poem with Sentiments proper for a State of Innocence; to have described

the Warmth of Love, and the Professions of it, without Artifice or

Hyperbole: to have made the Man speak the most endearing things, without

descending from his natural Dignity, and the Woman receiving them

without departing from the Modesty of her Character; in a Word, to

adjust the Prerogatives of Wisdom and Beauty, and make each appear to

the other in its proper Force and Loveliness. This mutual Subordination

of the two Sexes is wonderfully kept up in the whole Poem, as

particularly in the Speech of Eve I have before mentioned, and upon the

Conclusion of it in the following Lines.

So spake our general Mother, and with eyes

Of Conjugal attraction unreproved,

And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd

On our first father; half her swelling breast

Naked met his under the flowing Gold

Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight

Both of her beauty and submissive charms

Smil'd with superior Love.--

The Poet adds, that the Devil turned away with Envy at the sight of so

much Happiness.

We have another View of our first Parents in their Evening Discourses,

which is full of pleasing Images and Sentiments suitable to their

Condition and Characters. The Speech of Eve, in particular, is dressed

up in such a soft and natural Turn of Words and Sentiments, as cannot be

sufficiently admired.

I shall close my Reflections upon this Book, with observing the Masterly

Transition which the Poet makes to their Evening Worship in the

following Lines.

Thus at their shady Lodge arriv'd, both stood,

Both turn'd, and under open Sky, ador'd

The God that made both [Sky,] Air, Earth and Heaven,

Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe,

And Starry Pole: Thou also madst the Night,

Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day, &c.

Most of the Modern Heroick Poets have imitated the Ancients, in

beginning a Speech without premising, that the Person said thus or thus;

but as it is easie to imitate the Ancients in the Omission of two or

three Words, it requires Judgment to do it in such a manner as they

shall not be missed, and that the Speech may begin naturally without

them. There is a fine Instance of this Kind out of Homer, in the Twenty

Third Chapter of Longinus.

L.

[Footnote 1: From this date to the end of the series the Saturday papers

upon Milton exceed the usual length of a Spectator essay. That they may

not occupy more than the single leaf of the original issue, they are

printed in smaller type; the columns also, when necessary, encroach on

the bottom margin of the paper, and there are few advertisements

inserted.]

[Footnote 2: At the end of the third Book of the Poetics.

The diction should be most laboured in the idle parts of the poem;

those in which neither manners nor sentiments prevail; for the manners

and the sentiments are only obscured by too splendid a diction.]

[Footnote 3: [this great]]

[Footnote 4: [shape]]

[Footnote 5: [are]]

[Footnote 6: notice by the way]

[Footnote 7: [those]]

* * * * *

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS EARL OF WHARTON.[1]

My LORD,

The Author of the Spectator having prefixed before each of his Volumes

the Name of some great Person to whom he has particular Obligations,

lays his Claim to your Lordships Patronage upon the same Account. I

must confess, my Lord, had not I already received great Instances of

your Favour, I should have been afraid of submitting a Work of this

Nature to your Perusal. You are so thoroughly acquainted with the

Characters of Men, and all the Parts of human Life, that it is

impossible for the least Misrepresentation of them to escape your

Notice. It is Your Lordships particular Distinction that you are Master

of the whole Compass of Business, and have signalized Your Self in all

the different Scenes of it. We admire some for the Dignity, others for

the Popularity of their Behaviour; some for their Clearness of Judgment,

others for their Happiness of Expression; some for the laying of

Schemes, and others for the putting of them in Execution: It is Your

Lordship only who enjoys these several Talents united, and that too in

as great Perfection as others possess them singly. Your Enemies

acknowledge this great Extent in your Lordships Character, at the same

time that they use their utmost Industry and Invention to derogate from

it. But it is for Your Honour that those who are now Your Enemies were

always so. You have acted in so much Consistency with Your Self, and

promoted the Interests of your Country in so uniform a Manner, that even

those who would misrepresent your Generous Designs for the Publick Good,

cannot but approve the Steadiness and Intrepidity with which You pursue

them. It is a most sensible Pleasure to me that I have this Opportunity

of professing my self one of your great Admirers, and, in a very

particular Manner,

My LORD,

Your Lordships

Most Obliged,

And most Obedient,

Humble Servant,

THE SPECTATOR.

[Footnote 1: This is the Thomas, Earl of Wharton, who in 1708 became

Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and took Addison for his Chief Secretary. He

was the son of Philip, Baron Wharton, a firm Presbyterian, sometimes

called the good Lord Wharton, to distinguish him from his son and

grandson. Philip Wharton had been an opponent of Stuart encroachments, a

friend of Algernon Sidney, and one of the first men to welcome William

III. to England. He died, very old, in 1694. His son Thomas did not

inherit the religious temper of his father, and even a dedication could

hardly have ventured to compliment him on his private morals. But he was

an active politician, was with his father in the secret of the landing

of the Prince of Orange, and was made by William Comptroller of the

Household. Thwarted in his desire to become a Secretary of State, he

made himself formidable as a bold, sarcastic speaker and by the strength

of his parliamentary interest. He is said to have returned at one time

thirty members, and to have spent eighty thousand pounds upon the

maintenance of his political position. He was apt, by his manners, to

make friends of the young men of influence. He spent money freely also

on the turf, and upon his seat of Winchenden, in Wilts. Queen Anne, on

her accession, struck his name with her own hand from the list of Privy

Councillors, but he won his way not only to restoration of that rank,

but also in December, 1706, at the age of 67, to his title of Viscount

Winchendon and Earl of Wharton. In November, 1708, he became

Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, with Addison for secretary. He took over

with him also Clayton the musician, and kept a gay court, easily

accessible, except to Roman Catholics, whom he would not admit to his

presence, and against whom he enforced the utmost rigour of the penal

code. He had himself conformed to the Church of England. Swift accused

him, as Lord-lieutenant, of shameless depravity of manners, of

injustice, greed, and gross venality. This Lord Wharton died in 1715,

and was succeeded by his son Philip, whom George I., in 1718, made Duke

of Wharton for his fathers vigorous support of the Hanoverian

succession. His character was much worse than that of his father, the

energetic politician and the man of cultivated taste and ready wit to

whom Steele and Addison here dedicated the Fifth Volume of the

Spectator.]

* * * * *

No. 322. Monday, March 10, 1712. Steele.

Ad humum mærore gravi deducit et angit.

Hor.

It is often said, after a Man has heard a Story with extraordinary

Circumstances, It is a very good one if it be true: But as for the

following Relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. It is

told with such Simplicity, and there are so many artless Touches of

Distress in it, that I fear it comes too much from the Heart.

Mr. SPECTATOR, Some Years ago it happened that I lived in the same

House with a young Gentleman of Merit; with whose good Qualities I was

so much taken, as to make it my Endeavour to shew as many as I was

able in my self. Familiar Converse improved general Civilities into an

unfeigned Passion on both Sides. He watched an Opportunity to declare

himself to me; and I, who could not expect a Man of so great an Estate

as his, received his Addresses in such Terms, as gave him no reason to

believe I was displeased by them, tho I did nothing to make him think

me more easy than was decent. His Father was a very hard worldly Man,

and proud; so that there was no reason to believe he would easily be

brought to think there was any thing in any Woman's Person or

Character that could ballance the Disadvantage of an unequal Fortune.

In the mean time the Son continued his Application to me, and omitted

no Occasion of demonstrating the most disinterested Passion imaginable

to me; and in plain direct Terms offer'd to marry me privately, and

keep it so till he should be so happy as to gain his Fathers

Approbation, or become possessed of his Estate. I passionately loved

him, and you will believe I did not deny such a one what was my

Interest also to grant. However I was not so young, as not to take the

Precaution of carrying with me a faithful Servant, who had been also

my Mothers Maid, to be present at the Ceremony. When that was over I

demanded a Certificate, signed by the Minister, my Husband, and the

Servant I just now spoke of. After our Nuptials, we conversed together

very familiarly in the same House; but the Restraints we were

generally under, and the Interviews we had, being stolen and

interrupted, made our Behaviour to each other have rather the

impatient Fondness which is visible in Lovers, than the regular and

gratified Affection which is to be observed in Man and Wife. This

Observation made the Father very anxious for his Son, and press him to

a Match he had in his Eye for him. To relieve my Husband from this

Importunity, and conceal the Secret of our Marriage, which I had

reason to know would not be long in my power in Town, it was resolved

that I should retire into a remote Place in the Country, and converse

under feigned Names by Letter. We long continued this Way of Commerce;

and I with my Needle, a few Books, and reading over and over my

Husbands Letters, passed my Time in a resigned Expectation of better

Days. Be pleased to take notice, that within four Months after I left

my Husband I was delivered of a Daughter, who died within few Hours

after her Birth. This Accident, and the retired Manner of Life I led,

gave criminal Hopes to a neighbouring Brute of a Country Gentle-man,

whose Folly was the Source of all my Affliction. This Rustick is one

of those rich Clowns, who supply the Want of all manner of Breeding by

the Neglect of it, and with noisy Mirth, half Understanding, and ample

Fortune, force themselves upon Persons and Things, without any Sense

of Time and Place. The poor ignorant People where I lay conceal'd, and

now passed for a Widow, wondered I could be so shy and strange, as

they called it, to the Squire; and were bribed by him to admit him

whenever he thought fit. I happened to be sitting in a little Parlour

which belonged to my own Part of the House, and musing over one of the

fondest of my Husbands Letters, in which I always kept the

Certificate of my Marriage, when this rude Fellow came in, and with

the nauseous Familiarity of such unbred Brutes, snatched the Papers

out of my Hand. I was immediately under so great a Concern, that I

threw my self at his Feet, and begged of him to return them. He with

the same odious Pretence to Freedom and Gaiety, swore he would read

them. I grew more importunate, he more curious, till at last, with an

Indignation arising from a Passion I then first discovered in him, he

threw the Papers into the Fire, swearing that since he was not to read

them, the Man who writ them should never be so happy as to have me

read them over again. It is insignificant to tell you my Tears and

Reproaches made the boisterous Calf leave the Room ashamed and out of

Countenance, when I had leisure to ruminate on this Accident with more

than ordinary Sorrow: However, such was then my Confidence in my

Husband, that I writ to him the Misfortune, and desired another Paper

of the same kind. He deferred writing two or three Posts, and at last

answered me in general, That he could not then send me what I asked

for, but when he could find a proper Conveyance, I should be sure to

have it. From this time his Letters were more cold every Day than the

other, and as he grew indifferent I grew jealous. This has at last

brought me to Town, where I find both the Witnesses of my Marriage

dead, and that my Husband, after three Months Cohabitation, has buried

a young Lady whom he married in Obedience to his Father. In a word, he

shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the House and confront him, the

Father would join in supporting him against me, though he believed my

Story; should I talk it to the World, what Reparation can I expect for

an Injury I cannot make out? I believe he means to bring me, through

Necessity, to resign my Pretentions to him for some Provision for my

Life; but I will die first. Pray bid him remember what he said, and

how he was charmed when he laughed at the heedless Discovery I often

made of my self; let him remember how awkward he was in my dissembled

Indifference towards him before Company; ask him how I, who could

never conceal my Love for him, at his own Request, can part with him

for ever? Oh, Mr. SPECTATOR, sensible Spirits know no Indifference in

Marriage; what then do you think is my piercing Affliction?---I leave

you to represent my Distress your own way, in which I desire you to be

speedy, if you have Compassion for Innocence exposed to Infamy.

Octavia.

T.

* * * * *

No. 323. Tuesday, March 11, 1712. Addison.

Modo Vir, modo Foemina. [1]

Virg.

The journal with which I presented my Reader on Tuesday last, has

brought me in several Letters, with Accounts of many private Lives cast

into that Form. I have the Rakes Journal, the Sots Journal, the

Whoremasters Journal, and among several others a very curious Piece,

entituled, The Journal of a Mohock. By these Instances I find that the

Intention of my last Tuesdays Paper has been mistaken by many of my

Readers. I did not design so much to expose Vice as Idleness, and aimed

at those Persons who pass away their Time rather in Trifle and

Impertinence, than in Crimes and Immoralities. Offences of this latter

kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In

short, my Journal only holds up Folly to the Light, and shews the

Disagreeableness of such Actions as are indifferent in themselves, and

blameable only as they proceed from Creatures endow'd with Reason.

My following Correspondent, who calls her self Clarinda, is such a

Journalist as I require: She seems by her Letter to be placed in a

modish State of Indifference between Vice and Virtue, and to be

susceptible of either, were there proper Pains taken with her. Had her

Journal been filled with Gallantries, or such Occurrences as had shewn

her wholly divested of her natural Innocence, notwithstanding it might

have been more pleasing to the Generality of Readers, I should not have

published it; but as it is only the Picture of a Life filled with a

fashionable kind of Gaiety and Laziness, I shall set down five Days of

it, as I have received it from the Hand of my fair Correspondent.

Dear Mr. SPECTATOR,

You having set your Readers an Exercise in one of your last Weeks

Papers, I have perform'd mine according to your Orders, and herewith

send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. SPECTATOR, that I am a Maiden

Lady of a good Fortune, who have had several Matches offered me for

these ten Years last past, and have at present warm Applications made

to me by a very pretty Fellow. As I am at my own Disposal, I come up

to Town every Winter, and pass my Time in it after the manner you will

find in the following Journal, which I begun to write upon the very

Day after your Spectator upon that Subject.

TUESDAY Night. Could not go to sleep till one in the Morning for

thinking of my Journal.

WEDNESDAY. From Eight till Ten, Drank two Dishes of Chocolate in

Bed, and fell asleep after em.

From Ten to Eleven. Eat a Slice of Bread and Butter, drank a Dish of

Bohea, read the Spectator.

From Eleven to One. At my Toilet, try'd a new Head. Gave Orders for

Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in Blue.

From One till Half an Hour after Two. Drove to the Change. Cheapned

a Couple of Fans.

Till Four. At Dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new Liveries.

From Four to Six. Dressed, paid a Visit to old Lady Blithe and her

Sister, having before heard they were gone out of Town that Day.

From Six to Eleven. At Basset. Mem. Never set again upon the Ace of

Diamonds.

THURSDAY. From Eleven at Night to Eight in the Morning. Dream'd that

I punted to Mr. Froth.

From Eight to Ten. Chocolate. Read two Acts in Aurenzebe [2] abed.

From Ten to Eleven. Tea-Table. Sent to borrow Lady Faddles Cupid

for Veny. Read the Play-Bills. Received a Letter from Mr. Froth.

Mem. locked it up in my strong Box.

Rest of the Morning. Fontange, the Tire-woman, her Account of my

Lady Blithe's Wash. Broke a Tooth in my little Tortoise-shell Comb.

Sent Frank to know how my Lady Hectick rested after her Monky's

leaping out at Window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my Glass is

not true. Dressed by Three.

From Three to Four. Dinner cold before I sat down.

From Four to Eleven. Saw Company. Mr. Froths Opinion of Milton. His

Account of the Mohocks. His Fancy for a Pin-cushion. Picture in the

Lid of his Snuff-box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her Woman to cut

my Hair. Lost five Guineas at Crimp.

Twelve a-Clock at Night. Went to Bed.

FRIDAY. Eight in the Morning. Abed. Read over all Mr. Froths

Letters. Cupid and Veny.

Ten a-Clock. Stay'd within all day, not at home.

From Ten to Twelve. In Conference with my Mantua-Maker. Sorted a

Suit of Ribbands. Broke my Blue China Cup.

From Twelve to One. Shut my self up in my Chamber, practised Lady

Betty Modely's Skuttle.

One in the Afternoon. Called for my flowered Handkerchief. Worked

half a Violet-Leaf in it. Eyes aked and Head out of Order. Threw by

my Work, and read over the remaining Part of Aurenzebe.

From Three to Four. Dined.

From Four to Twelve. Changed my Mind, dressed, went abroad, and

play'd at Crimp till Midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home.

Conversation: Mrs. Brilliants Necklace false Stones. Old Lady

Loveday going to be married to a young Fellow that is not worth a

Groat. Miss Prue gone into the Country. Tom Townley has red Hair.

Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my Ear that she had something to tell

me about Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true.

Between Twelve and One. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my Feet, and

called me Indamora. [3]

SATURDAY. Rose at Eight a-Clock in the Morning. Sate down to my

Toilet.

From Eight to Nine. Shifted a Patch for Half an Hour before I could

determine it. Fixed it above my left Eye-brow.

From Nine to Twelve. Drank my Tea, and dressed.

From Twelve to Two. At Chappel. A great deal of good Company. Mem.

The third Air in the new Opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully.

From Three to Four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the

Opera before I was risen from Table.

From Dinner to Six. Drank Tea. Turned off a Footman for being rude

to Veny.

Six a-Clock. Went to the Opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the

beginning of the second Act. Mr. Froth talked to a Gentleman in a

black Wig. Bowed to a Lady in the front Box. Mr. Froth and his

Friend clapp'd Nicolini in the third Act. Mr. Froth cried out

Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my Chair. I think he squeezed my Hand.

Eleven at Night. Went to Bed. Melancholy Dreams. Methought Nicolini

said he was Mr. Froth.

SUNDAY. Indisposed.

MONDAY. Eight a-Clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurenzebe lay upon the

Chair by me. Kitty repeated without Book the Eight best Lines in the

Play. Went in our Mobbs to the dumb Man [4], according to

Appointment. Told me that my Lovers Name began with a G. Mem. The

Conjurer was within a Letter of Mr. Froths Name, &c.

Upon looking back into this my Journal, I find that I am at a loss to

know whether I pass my Time well or ill; and indeed never thought of

considering how I did it before I perused your Speculation upon that

Subject. I scarce find a single Action in these five Days that I can

thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the Violet-Leaf, which

I am resolved to finish the first Day I am at leisure. As for Mr.

Froth and Veny I did not think they took up so much of my Time and

Thoughts, as I find they do upon my Journal. The latter of them I will

turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring

Matters to a Conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my Life run away

in a Dream.

Your humble Servant,

Clarinda.

To resume one of the Morals of my first Paper, and to confirm Clarinda

in her good Inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty Figure

she would make among Posterity, were the History of her whole Life

published like these five Days of it. I shall conclude my Paper with an

Epitaph written by an uncertain Author [5] on Sir Philip Sidney's

Sister, a Lady who seems to have been of a Temper very much different

from that of Clarinda. The last Thought of it is so very noble, that I

dare say my Reader will pardon me the Quotation.

On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke.

Underneath this Marble Hearse

Lies the Subject of all Verse,

Sidney's Sister, Pembroke's Mother:

Death, ere thou hast kill'd another,

Fair, and learn'd, and good as she,

Time shall throw a Dart at thee.

[Footnote 1: A quotation from memory of Virgil's Et juvenis quondam

nunc foemina. Æn. vi. 448.]

[Footnote 2: Dryden's.]

[Footnote 3: The heroine of Aurengzebe.]

[Footnote 4: Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb, and to tell

fortunes by second sight. In 1732 there appeared Secret Memoirs of the

late Mr. D. Campbell.... written by himself... with an Appendix by way

of vindicating Mr. C. against the groundless aspersion cast upon him,

that he but pretended to be deaf and dumb.]

[Footnote 5: Ben Jonson.]

* * * * *

No. 324. Wednesday, March 12, 1712. Steele.

[O curvæ in terris animæ, et coelestium inanes.

Pers [1].]

Mr. SPECTATOR,

The Materials you have collected together towards a general History

of Clubs, make so bright a Part of your Speculations, that I think it

is but a Justice we all owe the learned World to furnish you with such

Assistances as may promote that useful Work. For this Reason I could

not forbear communicating to you some imperfect Informations of a Set

of Men (if you will allow them a place in that Species of Being) who

have lately erected themselves into a Nocturnal Fraternity, under the

Title of the Mohock Club, a Name borrowed it seems from a sort of

Cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the

Nations about them. The President is styled Emperor of the Mohocks;

and his Arms are a Turkish Crescent, which his Imperial Majesty bears

at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his Forehead.

Agreeable to their Name, the avowed design of their Institution is

Mischief; and upon this Foundation all their Rules and Orders are

framed. An outrageous Ambition of doing all possible hurt to their

Fellow-Creatures, is the great Cement of their Assembly, and the only

Qualification required in the Members. In order to exert this

Principle in its full Strength and Perfection, they take care to drink

themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the Possibility of attending to

any Motions of Reason and Humanity; then make a general Sally, and

attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the Streets through

which they patrole. Some are knock'd down, others stabb'd, others cut

and carbonado'd. To put the Watch to a total Rout, and mortify some of

those inoffensive Militia, is reckon'd a Coup d'eclat. The particular

Talents by which these Misanthropes are distinguished from one

another, consist in the various kinds of Barbarities which they

execute upon their Prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy

Dexterity in tipping the Lion upon them; which is performed by

squeezing the Nose flat to the Face, and boring out the Eyes with

their Fingers: Others are called the Dancing-Masters, and teach their

Scholars to cut Capers by running Swords thro their Legs; a new

Invention, whether originally French I cannot tell: A third sort are

the Tumblers, whose office it is to set Women on their Heads, and

commit certain Indecencies, or rather Barbarities, on the Limbs which

they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they cant but be

very shocking to the Reader as well as the SPECTATOR. In this manner

they carry on a War against Mankind; and by the standing Maxims of

their Policy, are to enter into no Alliances but one, and that is

Offensive and Defensive with all Bawdy-Houses in general, of which

they have declared themselves Protectors and Guarantees. [2]

I must own, Sir, these are only broken incoherent Memoirs of this

wonderful Society, but they are the best I have been yet able to

procure; for being but of late Establishment, it is not ripe for a

just History; And to be serious, the chief Design of this Trouble is

to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleas'd, out of a

concern for the good of your Countrymen, to act under the Character of

SPECTATOR, not only the Part of a Looker-on, but an Overseer of their

Actions; and whenever such Enormities as this infest the Town, we

immediately fly to you for Redress. I have reason to believe, that

some thoughtless Youngsters, out of a false Notion of Bravery, and an

immoderate Fondness to be distinguished for Fellows of Fire, are

insensibly hurry'd into this senseless scandalous Project: Such will

probably stand corrected by your Reproofs, especially if you inform

them, that it is not Courage for half a score Fellows, mad with Wine

and Lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that

the Manners of Indian Savages are no becoming Accomplishments to an

English fine Gentleman. Such of them as have been Bullies and Scowrers

of a long standing, and are grown Veterans in this kind of Service,

are, I fear, too hardned to receive any Impressions from your

Admonitions. But I beg you would recommend to their Perusal your ninth

Speculation: They may there be taught to take warning from the Club of

Duellists; and be put in mind, that the common Fate of those Men of

Honour was to be hang'd.

I am, SIR,

Your most humble Servant,

Philanthropos

March the 10th, 1711-12.

The following Letter is of a quite contrary nature; but I add it here,

that the Reader may observe at the same View, how amiable Ignorance may

be when it is shewn in its Simplicities, and how detestable in

Barbarities. It is written by an honest Countryman to his Mistress, and

came to the Hands of a Lady of good Sense wrapped about a Thread-Paper,

who has long kept it by her as an Image of artless Love.

To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.

Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray

you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy

the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I

had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Powder at the Apothecary's

Shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my

flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the more bold now to

write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match

where I please; for my Father is taken away, and now I am come to my

Living, which is Ten Yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard

of Land in our Field but it is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a

Thief is worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided

for: Besides I have good Houshold-stuff, though I say it, both Brass

and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched,

yet, if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of

it slated. If you think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as

soon as my new Cloaths is made and Hay Harvest is in. I could, though

I say it, have good--

The rest is torn off; [3] and Posterity must be contented to know, that

Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty, but are left in the dark as to the

Name of her Lover.

T.

[Footnote 1:

[Sævis inter se convenit Ursis.

Juv.]]

[Footnote 2: Gay tells also in his Trivia that the Mohocks rolled women

in hogs-heads down Snow hill. Swift wrote of the Mohocks, at this time,

in his Journal to Stella,

Grub-street papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed

of near eighty put into several prisons, and all a lie, and I begin to

think there is no truth, or very little, in the whole story.

On the 18th of March an attempt was made to put the Mohocks down by

Royal Proclamation.]

[Footnote 3: This letter is said to have been really sent to one who

married Mr. Cole, a Northampton attorney, by a neighbouring freeholder

named Gabriel Bullock, and shown to Steele by his friend the antiquary,

Browne Willis. See also No. 328.]

* * * * *

No. 325. Thursday, March 13, 1712. Budgell

Quid frustra Simulacra fugacia captas?

Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.

Ista repercussæ quam cernis imaginis umbra est,

Nil habet ista sui; tecum venitque, manetque,

Tecum discedet si tu discedere possis.

Ovid.

WILL. HONEYCOMB diverted us last Night with an Account of a young

Fellows first discovering his Passion to his Mistress. The young Lady

was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable Opinion of

him, and was still in hopes that he would some time or other make his

Advances. As he was one day talking with her in Company of her two

Sisters, the Conversation happening to turn upon Love, each of the young

Ladies was by way of Raillery, recommending a Wife to him; when, to the

no small Surprize of her who languished for him in secret, he told them

with a more than ordinary Seriousness, that his Heart had been long

engaged to one whose Name he thought himself obliged in Honour to

conceal; but that he could shew her Picture in the Lid of his Snuff-box.

The young Lady, who found herself the most sensibly touched by this

Confession, took the first Opportunity that offered of snatching his Box

out of his Hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it, but finding her

resolved to look into the Lid, begged her, that if she should happen to

know the Person, she would not reveal her Name. Upon carrying it to the

Window, she was very agreeably surprized to find there was nothing

within the Lid but a little Looking-Glass, in which, after she had

view'd her own Face with more Pleasure than she had ever done before,

she returned the Box with a Smile, telling him, she could not but admire

at his Choice.

WILL. fancying that his Story took, immediately fell into a Dissertation

on the Usefulness of Looking-Glasses, and applying himself to me, asked,

if there were any Looking Glasses in the Times of the Greeks and Romans;

for that he had often observed in the Translations of Poems out of those

Languages, that People generally talked of seeing themselves in Wells,

Fountains, Lakes, and Rivers: Nay, says he, I remember Mr. Dryden in his

Ovid tells us of a swingeing Fellow, called Polypheme, that made use of

the Sea for his Looking-Glass, and could never dress himself to

Advantage but in a Calm.

My Friend WILL, to shew us the whole Compass of his Learning upon this

Subject, further informed us, that there were still several Nations in

the World so very barbarous as not to have any Looking-Glasses among

them; and that he had lately read a Voyage to the South-Sea, in which it

is said, that the Ladies of Chili always dress their Heads over a Bason

of Water.

I am the more particular in my Account of WILL'S last Night's Lecture

on these natural Mirrors, as it seems to bear some Relation to the

following Letter, which I received the Day before.

SIR,

I have read your last Saturdays Observations on the Fourth Book of

Milton with great Satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the

hidden Moral, which you have taken notice of in several Parts of the

Poem. The Design of this Letter is to desire your Thoughts, whether

there may not also be some Moral couched under that Place in the same

Book where the Poet lets us know, that the first Woman immediately

after her Creation ran to a Looking-Glass, and became so enamoured of

her own Face, that she had never removed to view any of the other

Works of Nature, had not she been led off to a Man. If you think fit

to set down the whole Passage from Milton, your Readers will be able

to judge for themselves, and the Quotation will not a little

contribute to the filling up of your Paper.

Your humble Servant,

R. T.

The last Consideration urged by my Querist is so strong, that I cannot

forbear closing with it. The Passage he alludes to, is part of Eves

Speech to Adam, and one of the most beautiful Passages in the whole Poem.

That Day I oft remember, when from sleep

I first awaked, and found my self repos d

Under a shade of flowrs, much wondering where

And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.

Not distant far from thence a murmuring Sound

Of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread

Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved

Pure as th' Expanse of Heavn: I thither went

With unexperienced Thought, and laid me down

On the green Bank, to look into the clear

Smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky.

As I bent down to look, just opposite,

A Shape within the watry Gleam appeared

Bending to look on me; I started back,

It started back; but pleas'd I soon returned,

Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering Looks

Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fix d

Mine Eyes till now, and pined with vain Desire,

Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest,

What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,

With thee it came and goes: but follow me,

And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays

Thy coming, and thy soft Embraces, he

Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy

Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear

Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd

Mother of Human Race. What could I do,

But follow streight, invisibly thus led?

Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,

Under a Platan, yet methought less fair,

Less winning soft, less amiably mild,

Than that smooth watry Image: back I turn'd,

Thou following crydst aloud, Return fair Eve,

Whom flyst thou? whom thou flyst, of him thou art,

His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being, I lent

Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart,

Substantial Life, to have thee by my side

Henceforth an individual Solace dear.

Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim

My other half!---With that thy gentle hand

Seized mine, I yielded, and from that time see

How Beauty is excell'd by manly Grace,

And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.

So spake our general Mother,--

X.

* * * * *

No. 326. Friday, March 14, 1712. Steele.

Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea

Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum

Tristes exubiæ, munierant satis

Nocturnis ab adulteris;

Si non--

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Your Correspondents Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your

subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you

a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained

of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.

I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It

is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon

which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that

for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moments Rest. I

look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as

constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a

Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well

secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four

Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any

other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a

Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on

constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins

planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given

frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of

all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by

reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely

drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of

attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common

Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter

from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But

to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand

for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill

Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore

desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon

which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be

taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that

some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to

bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game.

I am, SIR,

Your humble Servant.

Mile-End-Green, March 6, 1711-12.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the

Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal

towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened

at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let

him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the

Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an

Opportunity to break his Mind.

I am, SIR,

Your humble Servant,

Mary Comfitt.

If I observe he cannot speak, Ill give him time to recover himself,

and ask him how he does.

Dear SIR,

I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity

give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear

that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as

monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they

say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desir'd by the

Mother. I have been marry'd upwards of six Years, have had four

Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has

put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy

with them, would not only have handsomely defray'd the Charges of the

Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for

the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects

of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and

Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few

of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home

one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation,

whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair

of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week

longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within

that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily comply'd with.

Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she

should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the

old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her

Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her

Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have

furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of

being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose

upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by

good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her

Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought

her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the

Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those

of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or

the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be

contented tho I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or

Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl

again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending twill make the

Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her

Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I

have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were

coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast

upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to

partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman

to cut her off a Slice as if twere for himself, which the Fellow did;

and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite,

that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will

be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if

there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of

Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your

Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in

every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father

should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall

impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and am

SIR,

Your most Obliged, and

most Faithful Humble Servant,

T.B.

Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much

as Molly does China-Ware.

T.

* * * * *

No. 327. Saturday, March 15, 1712. Addison.

Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.

Virg.

We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon

Eve as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity,

Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout

his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that

arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first

Part of the fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking finds Eve still asleep,

with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he

regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the

Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd

to a Lovers Ear.

His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve

With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,

As through unquiet Rest: he on his side

Leaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial Love

Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld

Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,

Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice

Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,

Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake

My Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found,

Heavns last best Gift, my ever new Delight!

Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field

Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring

Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,

What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,

How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee

Sits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.

Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled Eye

On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake:

O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,

My Glory, my Perfection! glad I see

Thy Face, and Morn return'd----

I cannot but take notice that Milton, in the Conferences between Adam

and Eve, had his Eye very frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in

which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not

unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the Age

of Solomon. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding

Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like

occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and

come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the

Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come,

and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth

forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good

Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.

Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early

to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender

Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.

His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that

--Where the Sapient King

Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,

shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.

Eves Dream is full of those high Conceits engendring Pride, which, we

are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is

that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by Adam in the

following beautiful Lines.

Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant Time,

The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields

To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake

Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reigns

Full orb'd the Moon, and with more [pleasing [1]] Light

Shadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain,

If none regard. Heavn wakes with all his Eyes,

Whom to behold but thee, Natures Desire,

In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment,

Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!

An injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk thro the whole Work in

such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the

Courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be heard by Eve in her State

of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her

Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of

her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho the Catastrophe of the

Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so

artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows

in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho the Vision it self is

founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness

and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, conformable to his

superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this

occasion.

So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,

But silently a gentle Tear let fall

From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair;

Two other precious Drops, that ready stood

Each in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fell

Kiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet Remorse

And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.

The Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of one of those Psalms, where,

in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the Psalmist calls not only

upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate

Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations

of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of Gods Works, and

awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if

this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper

kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first

Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen

the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be

acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter

to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful

Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness

of that Resolution with which it concludes.

Having already mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the

Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet [gives

[2]] of Raphael. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight

through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As Milton every where

fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing,

he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it

opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through

it.

Till at the Gate

Of Heavn arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide,

On golden Hinges turning, as by Work

Divine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.

The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th

Iliad, as that in particular, where speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that

he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon

occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when

there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner.

Scaliger has rallied Homer very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier

has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether

in this particular of Homer the Marvellous does not lose sight of the

Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of Milton's Gates is not so

extraordinary as this of the Tripodes, so I am persuaded he would not

have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the

Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and

moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims,

whom they accompanied.

There is no question but Milton had this Circumstance in his Thoughts,

because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the Messiah

with living Wheels, according to the Plan in Ezekiel's Vision.

--Forth rush'd with Whirlwind sound

The Chariot of paternal Deity

Flashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn,

Itself instinct with Spirit--

I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers, who are for vindicating

every thing that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in Holy

Writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting

Vulcan's Tripodes with Ezekiel's Wheels.

Raphael's Descent to the Earth, with the Figure of his Person, is

represented in very lively Colours. Several of the French, Italian and

English Poets have given a Loose to their Imaginations in the

Description of Angels: But I do not remember to have met with any so

finely drawn, and so conformable to the Notions which are given of them

in Scripture, as this in Milton. After having set him forth in all his

Heavenly Plumage, and represented him as alighting upon the Earth, the

Poet concludes his Description with a Circumstance, which is altogether

new, and imagined with the greatest Strength of Fancy.

--Like Maia's Son he stood,

And shook his Plumes, that Heavnly Fragrance fill'd

The Circuit wide.--

Raphael's Reception by the Guardian Angels; his passing through the

Wilderness of Sweets; his distant Appearance to Adam, have all the

Graces that Poetry is capable of bestowing. The Author afterwards gives

us a particular Description of Eve in her Domestick Employments

So saying, with dispatchful Looks in haste

She turns, on hospitable Thoughts intent,

What Choice to chuse for Delicacy best,

What order, so contrived, as not to mix

Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring

Taste after Taste; upheld with kindliest Change;

Bestirs her then, &c.--

Though in this, and other Parts of the same Book, the Subject is only

the Housewifry of our first Parent, it is set off with so many pleasing

Images and strong Expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable

Parts in this Divine Work.

The natural Majesty of Adam, and at the same time his submissive

Behaviour to the Superior Being, who had vouchsafed to be his Guest; the

solemn Hail which the Angel bestows upon the Mother of Mankind, with the

Figure of Eve ministring at the Table, are Circumstances which deserve

to be admired.

Raphael's Behaviour is every way suitable to the Dignity of his Nature,

and to that Character of a sociable Spirit, with which the Author has so

judiciously introduced him. He had received Instructions to converse

with Adam, as one Friend converses with another, and to warn him of the

Enemy, who was contriving his Destruction: Accordingly he is represented

as sitting down at Table with Adam, and eating of the Fruits of

Paradise. The Occasion naturally leads him to his Discourse on the Food

of Angels. After having thus entered into Conversation with Man upon

more indifferent Subjects, he warns him of his Obedience, and makes

natural Transition to the History of that fallen Angel, who was employ'd

in the Circumvention of our first Parents.

Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's Method in my first Paper of Milton, I

should have dated the Action of Paradise Lost from the Beginning of

Raphael's Speech in this Book, as he supposes the Action of the Æneid to

begin in the second Book of that Poem. I could allege many Reasons for

my drawing the Action of the Æneid rather from its immediate Beginning

in the first Book, than from its remote Beginning in the second; and

shew why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an Episode, according

to the common Acceptation of that Word. But as this would be a dry

unentertaining Piece of Criticism, and perhaps unnecessary to those who

have read my first Paper, I shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the

Notions be true, the Unity of Milton's Action is preserved according to

either of them; whether we consider the Fall of Man in its immediate

Beginning, as proceeding from the Resolutions taken in the infernal

Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceeding from the first

Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. The Occasion which Milton assigns for

this Revolt, as it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the Opinion

of some great Writers, so it was the most proper that the Poet could

have made use of.

The Revolt in Heaven is described with great Force of Imagination and a

fine Variety of Circumstances. The learned Reader cannot but be pleased

with the Poets Imitation of Homer in the last of the following Lines.

At length into the Limits of the North

They came, and Satan took his Royal Seat

High on a Hill, far blazing, as a Mount

Rais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Towrs

From Diamond Quarries hewn, and Rocks of Gold,

The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call

That Structure in the Dialect of Men

Interpreted)--

Homer mentions Persons and Things, which he tells us in the Language of

the Gods are call'd by different Names from those they go by in the

Language of Men. Milton has imitated him with his usual Judgment in this

particular Place, wherein he has likewise the Authority of Scripture to

justifie him. The Part of Abdiel, who was the only Spirit that in this

infinite Host of Angels preserved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits

to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The Zeal of the Seraphim

breaks forth in a becoming Warmth of Sentiments and Expressions, as the

Character which is given us of him denotes that generous Scorn and

Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. The Author doubtless designed

it as a Pattern to those who live among Mankind in their present State

of Degeneracy and Corruption.

So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found

Among the faithless, faithful only he;

Among innumerable false, unmov'd,

Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd;

His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal:

Nor Number, nor Example with him wrought

To swerve from truth, or change his constant Mind,

Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,

Long way through [hostile] Scorn, which he sustain'd

Superior, nor of Violence fear'd ought;

And, with retorted Scorn, his Back he turn'd

On those proud Towrs to swift Destruction doom'd.

L.

[Footnote 1: [pleasant]

[Footnote 2: [gives us]]

* * * * *

No. 328 [1] Monday, March 17, 1712. Steele.

Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.

Petron. Arb.

That useful Part of Learning which consists in Emendation, Knowledge of

different Readings, and the like, is what in all Ages Persons extremely

wise and learned have had in great Veneration. For this reason I cannot

but rejoyce at the following Epistle, which lets us into the true Author

of the Letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the

Honour to publish in a former Paper. I must confess I do not naturally

affect critical Learning; but finding my self not so much regarded as I

am apt to flatter my self I may deserve from some professed Patrons of

Learning, I could not but do my self the Justice to shew I am not a

Stranger to such Erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly

encouraged. However this only to let the World see what I could do; and

shall not give my Reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the

Ostentation I shew at present.

March 13, 1712.

SIR,

Upon reading your Paper of yesterday, [2] I took the Pains to look

out a Copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your

last Letter: Comparing them, I found they were the very same, and

have, underwritten, sent you that Part of it which you say was torn

off. I hope you will insert it, that Posterity may know twas Gabriel

Bullock that made Love in that natural Stile of which you seem to be

fond. But, to let you see I have other Manuscripts in the same Way, I

have sent you Enclosed three Copies, faithfully taken by my own Hand

from the Originals, which were writ by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good

estate to Madam Mary, and an Uncle of hers, a Knight very well known

by the most ancient Gentry in that and several other Counties of Great

Britain. I have exactly followed the Form and Spelling. I have been

credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous Comedian, is

the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullocks great

grandfather on the Body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark.

But neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, taking notice of it, I will

not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be

reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italic.

I am, SIR,

Your daily Reader.

_To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark._

Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray

you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to

enjoy the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes

when I had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Power at the

apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more

keep close my flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the

more bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own

Man, and may match where I please; for my Father is taken away; and

now I am come to my Living, which is ten yard Land, and a House; and

there is never a Yard Land [3] in our Field but is as well worth ten

Pound a Year, as a Thief's worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and

Sisters are provided for: besides I have good Household Stuff,

though I say it, both Brass and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and

though my House be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go

hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well

of this Motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new Cloaths is

made, and Hay-Harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have good

_Matches in our Town; but my Mother (Gods Peace be with her)

charged me upon her Death-Bed to marry a Gentlewoman, one who had

been well trained up in Sowing and Cookery. I do not think but that

if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our Means together, I shall

be made grand Jury-man e'er two or three Years come about, and that

will be a great Credit to us. If I could have got a Messenger for

Sixpence, I would have sent one on Purpose, and some Trifle or other

for a Token of my Love; but I hope there is nothing lost for that

neither. So hoping you will take this Letter in good Part, and

answer it with what Care and Speed you can, I rest and remain,_

Yours, if my own, MR. GABRIEL BULLOCK, now my father is dead.

Swepston, Leicestershire.

When the Coal Carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one

of them my self.

For sir William to go to london at westminster, remember a

parlement.

Sir William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that

i am in troubel abbut a lady you nease; and I do desire that you

will be my frend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was

mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would

not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our frends, for

it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all.

i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man:

and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated

two i beleive. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but

her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our harts, if

you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if

God be willing and if you pleased, so be not angterie till you know

the trutes of things.

George Nelon I give my to me lady, and to Mr. Aysenby, and to

madam norton March, the 19th; 1706.

This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.

Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go

to london, for they will put you in the nunnery; and heed not Mrs.

Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to

another Place, and we will gate wed so with speed, mind what i write

to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and

so let us gate wed, and we will both go. so if you go to london, you

rueing your self, so heed not what none of them saith to you. let us

gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing

for you to my poore. i hope the devill will faile them all, for a

hellish Company there be. from there cursed trick and mischiefus

ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.

I think to be at york the 24 day.

This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that

belongs to dishforth.

Madam Mary, i hope you are well, i am soary that you went away from

York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do

remain faithful; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will

wed you, and I will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good

woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if

you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will

have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and

with speed come: heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid

makes you believe ought.

So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent you 2

or 3 letters before.

I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the

night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and i did gat cold.

But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and

round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will

tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell.

March 19th, 1706.

R.

[Footnote 1: This paper is No. 328 in the original issue, but Steele

omitted it from the reprint and gave in its place the paper by Addison

which here stands next to it marked with the same number, 328. The paper

of Addison's had formed no part of the original issue. Of the original

No. 328 Steele inserted a censure at the end of No. 330.]

[Footnote 2: See No. 324.]

[Footnote 3: In some counties 20, in some 24, and in others 30 acres of

Land.]

* * * * *

No. 328. Monday, March 17, 1712. Addison.

Nullum me a labore reclinat otium.

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

As I believe this is the first Complaint that ever was made to you of

this nature, so you are the first Person I ever could prevail upon my

self to lay it before. When I tell you I have a healthy vigorous

Constitution, a plentiful Estate, no inordinate Desires, and am

married to a virtuous lovely Woman, who neither wants Wit nor

Good-Nature, and by whom I have a numerous Offspring to perpetuate my

Family, you will naturally conclude me a happy Man. But,

notwithstanding these promising Appearances, I am so far from it, that

the prospect of being ruin'd and undone, by a sort of Extravagance

which of late Years is in a less degree crept into every fashionable

Family, deprives me of all the Comforts of my Life, and renders me the

most anxious miserable Man on Earth. My Wife, who was the only Child

and darling Care of an indulgent Mother, employ'd her early Years in

learning all those Accomplishments we generally understand by good

Breeding and polite Education. She sings, dances, plays on the Lute

and Harpsicord, paints prettily, is a perfect Mistress of the French

Tongue, and has made a considerable Progress in Italian. She is

besides excellently skill'd in all domestick Sciences, as Preserving,

Pickling, Pastry, making Wines of Fruits of our own Growth,

Embroydering, and Needleworks of every Kind. Hitherto you will be apt

to think there is very little Cause of Complaint; but suspend your

Opinion till I have further explain'd my self, and then I make no

question you will come over to mine. You are not to imagine I find

fault that she either possesses or takes delight in the Exercise of

those Qualifications I just now mention'd; tis the immoderate

Fondness she has to them that I lament, and that what is only design'd

for the innocent Amusement and Recreation of Life, is become the whole

Business and Study of hers. The six Months we are in Town (for the

Year is equally divided between that and the Country) from almost

Break of Day till Noon, the whole Morning is laid out in practising

with her several Masters; and to make up the Losses occasion'd by her

Absence in Summer, every Day in the Week their Attendance is requir'd;

and as they all are People eminent in their Professions, their Skill

and Time must be recompensed accordingly: So how far these Articles

extend, I leave you to judge. Limning, one would think, is no

expensive Diversion, but as she manages the Matter, tis a very

considerable Addition to her Disbursements; Which you will easily

believe, when you know she paints Fans for all her Female

Acquaintance, and draws all her Relations Pictures in Miniature; the

first must be mounted by no body but Colmar, and the other set by no

body but Charles Mather. What follows, is still much worse than the

former; for, as I told you, she is a great Artist at her Needle, tis

incredible what Sums she expends in Embroidery; For besides what is

appropriated to her personal Use, as Mantuas, Petticoats, Stomachers,

Handkerchiefs, Purses, Pin-cushions, and Working Aprons, she keeps

four French Protestants continually employ'd in making divers Pieces

of superfluous Furniture, as Quilts, Toilets, Hangings for Closets,

Beds, Window-Curtains, easy Chairs, and Tabourets: Nor have I any

hopes of ever reclaiming her from this Extravagance, while she

obstinately persists in thinking it a notable piece of good

Housewifry, because they are made at home, and she has had some share

in the Performance. There would be no end of relating to you the

Particulars of the annual Charge, in furnishing her Store-Room with a

Profusion of Pickles and Preserves; for she is not contented with

having every thing, unless it be done every way, in which she consults

an Hereditary Book of Receipts; for her female Ancestors have been

always fam'd for good Housewifry, one of whom is made immortal, by

giving her Name to an Eye-Water and two sorts of Puddings. I cannot

undertake to recite all her medicinal Preparations, as Salves,

Cerecloths, Powders, Confects, Cordials, Ratafia, Persico,

Orange-flower, and Cherry-Brandy, together with innumerable sorts of

Simple Waters. But there is nothing I lay so much to Heart, as that

detestable Catalogue of counterfeit Wines, which derive their Names

from the Fruits, Herbs, or Trees of whose Juices they are chiefly

compounded: They are loathsome to the Taste, and pernicious to the

Health; and as they seldom survive the Year, and then are thrown away,

under a false Pretence of Frugality, I may affirm they stand me in

more than if I entertain'd all our Visiters with the best Burgundy and

Champaign. Coffee, Chocolate, Green, Imperial, Peco, and Bohea-Tea

seem to be Trifles; but when the proper Appurtenances of the Tea-Table

are added, they swell the Account higher than one would imagine. I

cannot conclude without doing her Justice in one Article; where her

Frugality is so remarkable, I must not deny her the Merit of it, and

that is in relation to her Children, who are all confin'd, both Boys

and Girls, to one large Room in the remotest Part of the House, with

Bolts on the Doors and Bars to the Windows, under the Care and Tuition

of an old Woman, who had been dry Nurse to her Grandmother. This is

their Residence all the Year round; and as they are never allow'd to

appear, she prudently thinks it needless to be at any Expence in

Apparel or Learning. Her eldest Daughter to this day would have

neither read nor writ, if it had not been for the Butler, who being

the Son of a Country Attorney, has taught her such a Hand as is

generally used for engrossing Bills in Chancery. By this time I have

sufficiently tired your Patience with my domestick Grievances; which I

hope you will agree could not well be contain'd in a narrower Compass,

when you consider what a Paradox I undertook to maintain in the

Beginning of my Epistle, and which manifestly appears to be but too

melancholy a Truth. And now I heartily wish the Relation I have given

of my Misfortunes may be of Use and Benefit to the Publick. By the

Example I have set before them, the truly virtuous Wives may learn to

avoid those Errors which have so unhappily mis-led mine, and which are

visibly these three. First, in mistaking the proper Objects of her

Esteem, and fixing her Affections upon such things as are only the

Trappings and Decorations of her Sex. Secondly, In not distinguishing

what becomes the different Stages of Life. And, Lastly, The Abuse and

Corruption of some excellent Qualities, which, if circumscrib'd within

just Bounds, would have been the Blessing and Prosperity of her

Family, but by a vicious Extreme are like to be the Bane and

Destruction of it.

L.

* * * * *

No. 329. Tuesday, March 18, 1712. Addison.

Ire tamen restat, Numa quo devenit et Ancus.

Hor.

My friend Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY told me tother Night, that he had been

reading my Paper upon Westminster Abby, in which, says he, there are a

great many ingenious Fancies. He told me at the same time, that he

observed I had promised another Paper upon the Tombs, and that he should

be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had

read History. I could not at first imagine how this came into the

Knights Head, till I recollected that he had been very busy all last

Summer upon Bakers Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his

Disputes with Sir ANDREW FREEPORT since his last coming to Town.

Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next Morning, that we might

go together to the Abby.

I found the Knight under his Butlers Hands, who always shaves him. He

was no sooner Dressed, than he called for a Glass of the Widow Trueby's

Water, which he told me he always drank before he went abroad. He

recommended me to a Dram of it at the same time, with so much

Heartiness, that I could not forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got

it down, I found it very unpalatable; upon which the Knight observing

that I [had] made several wry Faces, told me that he knew I should not

like it at first, but that it was the best thing in the World against

the Stone or Gravel.

I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted me with the Virtues of

it sooner; but it was too late to complain, and I knew what he had done

was out of Good-will. Sir ROGER told me further, that he looked upon it

to be very good for a Man whilst he staid in Town, to keep off

Infection, and that he got together a Quantity of it upon the first News

of the Sickness being at Dautzick: When of a sudden turning short to one

of his Servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call [a [1]] Hackney

Coach, and take care it was an elderly Man that drove it.

He then resumed his Discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's Water, telling me that

the Widow Trueby was one who did more good than all the Doctors and

Apothecaries in the County: That she distilled every Poppy that grew

within five Miles of her; that she distributed her Water gratis among

all Sorts of People; to which the Knight added, that she had a very

great Jointure, and that the whole Country would fain have it a Match

between him and her; and truly, says Sir ROGER, if I had not been

engaged, perhaps I could not have done better.

His Discourse was broken off by his Man's telling him he had called a

Coach. Upon our going to it, after having cast his Eye upon the Wheels,

he asked the Coachman if his Axeltree was good; upon the Fellows

telling him he would warrant it, the Knight turned to me, told me he

looked like an honest Man, and went in without further Ceremony.

We had not gone far, when Sir ROGER popping out his Head, called the

Coach-man down from his Box, and upon his presenting himself at the

Window, asked him if he smoaked; as I was considering what this would

end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good Tobacconists, and take

in a Roll of their best Virginia. Nothing material happened in the

remaining part of our Journey, till we were set down at the Westend of

the Abby.

As we went up the Body of the Church, the Knight pointed at the Trophies

upon one of the new Monuments, and cry'd out, A brave Man, I warrant

him! Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudsly Shovel, he flung his Hand that

way, and cry'd Sir Cloudsly Shovel! a very gallant Man! As we stood

before Busby's Tomb, the Knight utter'd himself again after the same

Manner, Dr. Busby, a great Man! he whipp'd my Grandfather; a very great

Man! I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a Blockhead; a

very great Man!

We were immediately conducted into the little Chappel on the right hand.

Sir ROGER planting himself at our Historians Elbow, was very attentive

to every thing he said, particularly to the Account he gave us of the

Lord who had cut off the King of Moroccos Head. Among several other

Figures, he was very well pleased to see the Statesman Cecil upon his

Knees; and, concluding them all to be great Men, was conducted to the

Figure which represents that Martyr to good Housewifry, who died by the

prick of a Needle. Upon our Interpreters telling us, that she was a

Maid of Honour to Queen Elizabeth, the Knight was very inquisitive into

her Name and Family; and after having regarded her Finger for some time,

I wonder, says he, that Sir Richard Baker has said nothing of her in his

Chronicle.

We were then convey'd to the two Coronation-Chairs, where my old Friend,

after having heard that the Stone underneath the most ancient of them,

which was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillar, sat himself

down in the Chair; and looking like the Figure of an old Gothick King,

asked our Interpreter, What Authority they had to say, that Jacob had

ever been in Scotland? The Fellow, instead of returning him an Answer,

told him, that he hoped his Honour would pay his Forfeit. I could

observe Sir ROGER a little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our

Guide not insisting upon his Demand, the Knight soon recovered his good

Humour, and whispered in my Ear, that if WILL. WIMBLE were with us, and

saw those two Chairs, it would go hard but he would get a

Tobacco-Stopper out of one or tother of them.

Sir ROGER, in the next Place, laid his Hand upon Edward the Thirds

Sword, and leaning upon the Pummel of it, gave us the whole History of

the Black Prince; concluding, that in Sir Richard Bakers Opinion,

Edward the Third was one of the greatest Princes that ever sate upon the

English Throne.

We were then shewn Edward the Confessors Tomb; upon which Sir ROGER

acquainted us, that he was the first who touched for the Evil; and

afterwards Henry the Fourths, upon which he shook his Head, and told us

there was fine Reading in the Casualties in that Reign.

Our Conductor then pointed to that Monument where there is the Figure of

one of our English Kings without an Head; and upon giving us to know,

that the Head, which was of beaten Silver, had been stolen away several

Years since: Some Whig, Ill warrant you, says Sir ROGER; you ought to

lock up your Kings better; they will carry off the Body too, if you

don't take care.

THE glorious Names of Henry the Fifth and Queen Elizabeth gave the

Knight great Opportunities of shining, and of doing Justice to Sir

Richard Baker, who, as our Knight observed with some Surprize, had a

great many Kings in him, whose Monuments he had not seen in the Abby.

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the Knight shew such

an honest Passion for the Glory of his Country, and such a respectful

Gratitude to the Memory of its Princes.

I must not omit, that the Benevolence of my good old Friend, which flows

out towards every one he converses with, made him very kind to our

Interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary Man; for which

reason he shook him by the Hand at parting, telling him, that he should

be very glad to see him at his Lodgings in Norfolk-Buildings, and talk

over these Matters with him more at leisure.

L.

[Footnote 1:[an]]

* * * * *

No. 330. Wednesday, March 19, 1712. Steele.

Maxima debetur pueris reverentia.

Juv.

The following Letters, written by two very considerate Correspondents,

both under twenty Years of Age, are very good Arguments of the Necessity

of taking into Consideration the many Incidents which affect the

Education of Youth.

SIR,

I have long expected, that in the Course of your Observations upon

the several Parts of human Life, you would one time or other fall upon

a Subject, which, since you have not, I take the liberty to recommend

to you. What I mean, is the Patronage of young modest Men to such as

are able to countenance and introduce them into the World. For want of

such Assistances, a Youth of Merit languishes in Obscurity or Poverty,

when his Circumstances are low, and runs into Riot and Excess when his

Fortunes are plentiful. I cannot make my self better understood, than

by sending you an History of my self, which I shall desire you to

insert in your Paper, it being the only Way I have of expressing my

Gratitude for the highest Obligations imaginable.