'Perlege Mæonio cantatas carmine Ranas,

Et frontem nugis solvere disce meis.'

Mart.

The Moral World, as consisting of Males and Females, is of a mixt

Nature, and filled with several Customs, Fashions and Ceremonies, which

would have no place in it, were there but _One_ Sex. Had our Species no

Females in it, Men would be quite different Creatures from what they are

at present; their Endeavours to please the opposite Sex, polishes and

refines them out of those Manners which are most Natural to them, and

often sets them upon modelling themselves, not according to the Plans

which they approve in their own Opinions, but according to those Plans

which they think are most agreeable to the Female World. In a Word, Man

would not only be unhappy, but a rude unfinished Creature, were he

conversant with none but those of his own Make.

Women, on the other side, are apt to form themselves in every thing with

regard to that other half of reasonable Creatures, with whom they are

here blended and confused; their Thoughts are ever turned upon appearing

amiable to the other Sex; they talk, and move, and smile, with a Design

upon us; every Feature of their Faces, every part of their Dress is

filled with Snares and Allurements. There would be no such Animals as

Prudes or Coquets in the World, were there not such an Animal as Man. In

short, it is the Male that gives Charms to Womankind, that produces an

Air in their Faces, a Grace in their Motions, a Softness in their

Voices, and a Delicacy in their Complections.

As this mutual Regard between the two Sexes tends to the Improvement of

each of them, we may observe that Men are apt to degenerate into rough

and brutal Natures, who live as if there were no such things as Women in

the World; as on the contrary, Women, who have an Indifference or

Aversion for their Counter-parts in human Nature, are generally Sower

and Unamiable, Sluttish and Censorious.

I am led into this Train of Thoughts by a little Manuscript which is

lately fallen into my Hands, and which I shall communicate to the

Reader, as I have done some other curious Pieces of the same Nature,

without troubling him with any Enquiries about the Author of it. It

contains a summary Account of two different States which bordered upon

one another. The one was a Commonwealth of _Amazons_, or Women without

Men; the other was a Republick of Males that had not a Woman in their

whole Community. As these two States bordered upon one another, it was

their way, it seems, to meet upon their Frontiers at a certain Season of

the Year, where those among the Men who had not made their Choice in any

former Meeting, associated themselves with particular Women, whom they

were afterwards obliged to look upon as their Wives in every one of

these yearly Rencounters. The Children that sprung from this Alliance,

if Males, were sent to their respective Fathers, if Females, continued

with their Mothers. By means of this Anniversary Carnival, which lasted

about a Week, the Commonwealths were recruited from time to time, and

supplied with their respective Subjects.

These two States were engaged together in a perpetual League, Offensive

and Defensive, so that if any Foreign Potentate offered to attack either

of them, both the Sexes fell upon him at once, and quickly brought him

to Reason. It was remarkable that for many Ages this Agreement continued

inviolable between the two States, notwithstanding, as was said before,

they were Husbands and Wives; but this will not appear so wonderful, if

we consider that they did not live together above a Week in a Year.

In the Account which my Author gives of the Male Republick, there were

several Customs very remarkable. The Men never shaved their Beards, or

pared their Nails above once in a Twelvemonth, which was probably about

the time of the great annual Meeting upon their Frontiers. I find the

Name of a Minister of State in one Part of their History, who was fined

for appearing too frequently in clean Linnen; and of a certain great

General who was turned out of his Post for Effeminacy, it having been

proved upon him by several credible Witnesses that he washed his Face

every Morning. If any Member of the Commonwealth had a soft Voice, a

smooth Face, or a supple Behaviour, he was banished into the

Commonwealth of Females, where he was treated as a Slave, dressed in

Petticoats, and set a Spinning. They had no Titles of Honour among them,

but such as denoted some Bodily Strength or Perfection, as such an one

_the Tall_, such an one _the Stocky_, such an one _the Gruff_. Their

publick Debates were generally managed with Kicks and Cuffs, insomuch

that they often came from the Council Table with broken Shins, black

Eyes, and bloody Noses. When they would reproach a Man in the most

bitter Terms, they would tell him his Teeth were white, or that he had a

fair Skin, and a soft Hand. The greatest Man I meet with in their

History, was one who could lift Five hundred Weight, and wore such a

prodigious Pair of Whiskers as had never been seen in the Commonwealth

before his Time. These Accomplishments it seems had rendred him so

popular, that if he had not died very seasonably, it is thought he might

have enslaved the Republick. Having made this short Extract out of the

History of the Male Commonwealth, I shall look into the History of the

neighbouring State which consisted of Females, and if I find any thing

in it, will not fail to Communicate it to the Publick.

C.

* * * * *

No. 434. Friday, July 18, 1712. Addison.

'Quales Threiciæ cùm flumina Thermodoontis

Pulsant, et pictis bellantur Amazones armis:

Seu circum Hippolyten, seu cùm se Martia curru

Penthesilea refert, magnoque ululante tumultu

Fæminea exultant lunatis agmina peltis.'

Virg.

Having carefully perused the Manuscript I mentioned in my Yesterday's

Paper, so far as it relates to the Republick of Women, I find in it

several Particulars which may very well deserve the Reader's Attention.

The Girls of Quality, from six to twelve Years old, were put to publick

Schools, where they learned to Box and play at Cudgels, with several

other Accomplishments of the same Nature; so that nothing was more usual

than to see a little Miss returning Home at Night with a broken Pate, or

two or three Teeth knocked out of her Head. They were afterwards taught

to ride the great Horse, to Shoot, Dart, or Sling, and listed into

several Companies, in order to perfect themselves in Military Exercises.

No Woman was to be married till she had killed her Man. The Ladies of

Fashion used to play with young Lions instead of Lap-dogs, and when they

made any Parties of Diversion, instead of entertaining themselves at

Ombre or Piquet, they would wrestle and pitch the Bar for a whole

Afternoon together. There was never any such thing as a Blush seen, or a

Sigh heard, in the Commonwealth. The Women never dressed but to look

terrible, to which end they would sometimes after a Battel paint their

Cheeks with the Blood of their Enemies. For this Reason likewise the

Face which had the most Scars was looked upon as the most beautiful. If

they found Lace, Jewels, Ribbons, or any Ornaments in Silver or Gold

among the Booty which they had taken, they used to dress their Horses

with it, but never entertained a Thought of wearing it themselves. There

were particular Rights and Privileges allowed to any Member of the

Commonwealth, who was a Mother of three Daughters. The Senate was made

up of old Women; for by the Laws of the Country none was to be a

Councellor of State that was not past Child-bearing. They used to boast

their Republick had continued Four thousand Years, which is altogether

improbable, unless we may suppose, what I am very apt to think, that

they measured their Time by _Lunar_ Years.

There was a great Revolution brought about in this Female Republick, by

means of a neighbouring King, who had made War upon them several Years

with various Success, and at length overthrew them in a very great

Battel. This Defeat they ascribe to several Causes; some say that the

Secretary of State having been troubled with the Vapours, had committed

some fatal Mistakes in several Dispatches about that Time. Others

pretend, that the first Minister being big with Child, could not attend

the Publick Affairs, as so great an Exigency of State required; but this

I can give no manner of Credit to, since it seems to contradict a

Fundamental Maxim in their Government which I have before mentioned. My

Author gives the most probable Reason of this great Disaster; for he

affirms, that the General was brought to Bed, or (as others say)

Miscarried the very Night before the Battel: However it was, this signal

Overthrow obliged them to call in the Male Republick to their

Assistance; but notwithstanding their Common Efforts to repulse the

Victorious Enemy, the War continued for many Years before they could

entirely bring it to a happy Conclusion.

The Campaigns which both Sexes passed together made them so well

acquainted with one another, that at the End of the War they did not

care for parting. In the Beginning of it they lodged in separate Camps,

but afterwards as they grew more familiar, they pitched their Tents

promiscuously.

From this time the Armies being Chequered with both Sexes, they polished

apace. The Men used to invite their Fellow-Soldiers into their Quarters,

and would dress their Tents with Flowers and Boughs, for their

Reception. If they chanced to like one more than another, they would be

cutting her Name in the Table, or Chalking out her Figure upon a Wall,

or talking of her in a kind of rapturous Language, which by degrees

improved into Verse and Sonnet. These were as the first Rudiments of

Architecture, Painting, and Poetry among this Savage People. After any

Advantage over the Enemy, both Sexes used to Jump together and make a

Clattering with their Swords and Shields, for Joy, which in a few Years

produced several Regular Tunes and Sett Dances.

As the two Armies romped on these Occasions, the Women complained of the

thick bushy Beards and long Nails of their Confederates, who thereupon

took care to prune themselves into such Figures as were most pleasing to

their Female Friends and Allies.

When they had taken any Spoils from the Enemy, the Men would make a

Present of every thing that was Rich and Showy to the Women whom they

most admired, and would frequently dress the Necks, or Heads, or Arms of

their Mistresses, with any thing which they thought appeared Gay or

Pretty. The Women observing that the Men took delight in looking upon

them, when they were adorned with such Trappings and Gugaws, set their

Heads at Work to find out new Inventions, and to outshine one another in

all Councils of War or the like solemn Meetings. On the other hand, the

Men observing how the Women's Hearts were set upon Finery, begun to

Embellish themselves and look as agreeably as they could in the Eyes of

their Associates. In short, after a few Years conversing together, the

Women had learnt to Smile, and the Men to Ogle, the Women grew Soft, and

the Men Lively.

When they had thus insensibly formed one another, upon the finishing of

the War, which concluded with an entire Conquest of their common Enemy,

the Colonels in one Army Married the Colonels in the other; the Captains

in the same Manner took the Captains to their Wives: The whole Body of

common Soldiers were matched, after the Example of their Leaders. By

this means the two Republicks incorporated with one another, and became

the most Flourishing and Polite Government in the Part of the World

which they Inhabited.

C.

* * * * *

No. 435. Saturday, July 19, 1712. Addison.

'Nec duo sunt at forma duplex, nec fæmina dici

Nec puer ut possint, neutrumque et utrumque videntur.'

Ovid.

Most of the Papers I give the Publick are written on Subjects that never

vary, but are for ever fixt and immutable. Of this kind are all my more

serious Essays and Discourses; but there is another sort of

Speculations, which I consider as Occasional Papers, that take their

Rise from the Folly, Extravagance, and Caprice of the present Age. For I

look upon my self as one set to watch the Manners and Behaviour of my

Countrymen and Contemporaries, and to mark down every absurd Fashion,

ridiculous Custom, or affected Form of Speech that makes its Appearance

in the World, during the Course of these my Speculations. The Petticoat

no sooner begun to swell, but I observed its Motions. The Party-patches

had not time to muster themselves before I detected them. I had

Intelligence of the Coloured Hood the very first time it appeared in a

Publick Assembly. I might here mention several other the like Contingent

Subjects, upon which I have bestowed distinct Papers. By this Means I

have so effectually quashed those Irregularities which gave Occasion to

'em, that I am afraid Posterity will scarce have a sufficient Idea of

them, to relish those Discourses which were in no little Vogue at the

time when they were written. They will be apt to think that the Fashions

and Customs I attacked were some Fantastick Conceits of my own, and that

their Great-Grand-mothers could not be so whimsical as I have

represented them. For this Reason, when I think on the Figure my several

Volumes of Speculations will make about a Hundred Years hence, I

consider them as so many Pieces of old Plate, where the Weight will be

regarded, but the Fashion lost.

Among the several Female Extravagancies I have already taken Notice of,

there is one which still keeps its Ground. I mean that of the Ladies who

dress themselves in a Hat and Feather, a Riding-coat and a Perriwig, or

at least tie up their Hair in a Bag or Ribbond, in imitation of the

smart Part of the opposite Sex. As in my Yesterday's Paper I gave an

Account of the Mixture of two Sexes in one Commonwealth, I shall here

take notice of this Mixture of two Sexes in one Person. I have already

shewn my Dislike of this Immodest Custom more than once; but in Contempt

of every thing I have hitherto said, I am informed that the Highways

about this great City are still very much infested with these Female

Cavaliers.

I remember when I was at my Friend Sir ROGER DE COVERLY'S about this

time Twelve-month, an Equestrian Lady of this Order appeared upon the

Plains which lay at a distance from his House. I was at that time

walking in the Fields with my old Friend; and as his Tenants ran out on

every side to see so strange a Sight, Sir ROGER asked one of them who

came by us what it was? To which the Country Fellow reply'd, 'Tis a

Gentlewoman, saving your Worship's Presence, in a Coat and Hat. This

produced a great deal of Mirth at the Knight's House, where we had a

Story at the same time of another of his Tenants, who meeting this

Gentleman-like Lady on the High-way, was asked by her _whether that was_

Coverly-Hall, the Honest Man seeing only the Male Part of the Querist,

replied, _Yes, Sir_; but upon the second Question, _whether_ Sir ROGER

DE COVERLY _was a married Man_, having dropped his Eye upon the

Petticoat, he changed his Note into _No, Madam_.

Had one of these Hermaphrodites appeared in _Juvenal's_ Days, with what

an Indignation should we have seen her described by that excellent

Satyrist. He would have represented her in a Riding Habit, as a greater

Monster than the Centaur. He would have called for Sacrifices or

Purifying Waters, to expiate the Appearance of such a Prodigy. He would

have invoked the Shades of _Portia_ or _Lucretia_, to see into what the

_Roman_ Ladies had transformed themselves.

For my own part, I am for treating the Sex with greater Tenderness, and

have all along made use of the most gentle Methods to bring them off

from any little Extravagance into which they are sometimes unwarily

fallen: I think it however absolutely necessary to keep up the Partition

between the two Sexes, and to take Notice of the smallest Encroachments

which the one makes upon the other. I hope therefore that I shall not

hear any more Complaints on this Subject. I am sure my She-Disciples who

peruse these my daily Lectures, have profited but little by them, if

they are capable of giving into such an Amphibious Dress. This I should

not have mentioned, had not I lately met one of these my Female Readers

in _Hyde Park_, who looked upon me with a masculine Assurance, and

cocked her Hat full in my Face.

For my part, I have one general Key to the Behaviour of the Fair Sex.

When I see them singular in any Part of their Dress, I conclude it is

not without some Evil Intention; and therefore question not but the

Design of this strange Fashion is to smite more effectually their Male

Beholders. Now to set them right in this Particular, I would fain have

them consider with themselves whether we are not more likely to be

struck by a Figure entirely Female, than with such an one as we may see

every Day in our Glasses: Or, if they please, let them reflect upon

their own Hearts, and think how they would be affected should they meet

a Man on Horseback, in his Breeches and Jack-Boots, and at the same time

dressed up in a Commode and a Night-raile.

I must observe that this Fashion was first of all brought to us from

_France_, a Country which has Infected all the Nations of _Europe_ with

its Levity. I speak not this in derogation of a whole People, having

more than once found fault with those general Reflections which strike

at Kingdoms or Commonwealths in the Gross: A piece of Cruelty, which an

ingenious Writer of our own compares to that of _Caligula_, who wished

the _Roman_ People had all but one Neck, that he might behead them at a

Blow. I shall therefore only Remark, that as Liveliness and Assurance

are in a peculiar manner the Qualifications of the _French_ Nation, the

same Habits and Customs will not give the same Offence to that People,

which they produce among those of our own Country. Modesty is our

distinguishing Character, as Vivacity is theirs: And when this our

National Virtue appears in that Female Beauty, for which our _British_

Ladies are celebrated above all others in the Universe, it makes up the

most amiable Object that the Eye of Man can possibly behold.

C.

* * * * *

No. 436. Monday, July 21, 1712. Steele

'Verso pollice vulgi

Quemlibet occidunt Populariter.'

Juv.

Being a Person of insatiable Curiosity, I could not forbear going on

_Wednesday_ last to a Place of no small Renown for the Gallantry of the

lower Order of _Britons_, namely, to the Bear-Garden at _Hockley in the

Hole_; [1] where (as a whitish brown Paper, put into my Hands in the

Street, informed me) there was to be a Tryal of Skill to be exhibited

between two Masters of the Noble Science of Defence, at two of the Clock

precisely. I was not a little charm'd with the Solemnity of the

Challenge, which ran thus:

"_I_ James Miller, _Serjeant, (lately come from the Frontiers of_

Portugal_) Master of the noble Science of Defence, hearing in most

Places where I have been of the great Fame of_ Timothy Buck _of_

London, _Master of the said Science, do invite him to meet me, and

exercise at the several Weapons following_, viz.

Back-Sword, Single Falchon,

Sword and Dagger, Case of Falchons,

Sword and Buckler, Quarter Staff."

If the generous Ardour in _James Miller_ to dispute the Reputation of

_Timothy Buck_, had something resembling the old Heroes of Romance,

_Timothy Buck_ return'd Answer in the same Paper with the like Spirit,

adding a little Indignation at being challenged, and seeming to

condescend to fight _James Miller_, not in regard to _Miller_ himself,

but in that, as the Fame went out, he had fought _Parkes_ of _Coventry_.

[2] The Acceptance of the Combat ran in these Words:

"_I_ Timothy Buck _of_ Clare-Market, _Master of the Noble Science of

Defence, hearing he did fight Mr._ Parkes _of_ Coventry, _will not

fail (God Willing) to meet this fair Inviter at the Time and Place

appointed, desiring a clear Stage and no Favour._

Vivat Regina."

I shall not here look back on the Spectacles of the _Greeks_ and

_Romans_ of this kind, but must believe this Custom took its rise from

the Ages of Knight-Errantry; from those who lov'd one Woman so well,

that they hated all Men and Women else; from those who would fight you,

whether you were or were not of their Mind; from those who demanded the

Combat of their Contemporaries, both for admiring their Mistress or

discommending her. I cannot therefore but lament, that the terrible Part

of the ancient Fight is preserved, when the amorous Side of it is

forgotten. We have retained the Barbarity, but lost the Gallantry of the

old Combatants. I could wish, methinks, these Gentlemen had consulted me

in the Promulgation of the Conflict. I was obliged by a fair young Maid

whom I understood to be called _Elizabeth Preston_, Daughter of the

Keeper of the Garden, with a Glass of Water; whom I imagined might have

been, for Form's sake, the general Representative of the Lady sought

for, and from her Beauty the proper _Amarillis_ on these Occasions. It

would have ran better in the Challenge, _I_ James Miller, _Serjeant, who

have travelled Parts abroad, and came last from the Frontiers of_

Portugal, _for the Love of_ Elizabeth Preston, _do assert, That the

said_ Elizabeth is the Fairest of Women. Then the Answer; _I_ Timothy

Buck, _who have stay'd in_ Great Britain _during all the War in Foreign

Parts, for the Sake of_ Susanna Page, _do deny that_ Elizabeth Preston

_is so fair as the said_ Susanna Page. Let _Susanna Page_ look on, and I

desire of _James Miller_ no Favour.

This would give the Battel quite another Turn; and a proper Station for

the Ladies, whose Complexion was disputed by the Sword, would animate

the Disputants with a more gallant Incentive than the Expectation of

Money from the Spectators; tho' I would not have that neglected, but

thrown to that Fair One, whose Lover was approved by the Donor.

Yet, considering the Thing wants such Amendments, it was carried with

great Order. _James Miller_ came on first, preceded by two disabled

Drummers, to shew, I suppose, that the Prospect of maimed Bodies did not

in the least deter him. There ascended with the daring _Miller_ a

Gentleman, whose Name I could not learn, with a dogged Air, as

unsatisfied that he was not Principal. This Son of Anger lowred at the

whole Assembly, and weighing himself as he march'd around from Side to

Side, with a stiff Knee and Shoulder, he gave Intimations of the Purpose

he smothered till he saw the Issue of this Encounter. _Miller_ had a

blue Ribband tied round the Sword Arm; which Ornament I conceive to be

the Remain of that Custom of wearing a Mistress's Favour on such

Occasions of old.

_Miller_ is a Man of six Foot eight Inches Height, of a kind but bold

Aspect, well-fashioned, and ready of his Limbs: and such Readiness as

spoke his Ease in them, was obtained from a Habit of Motion in Military

Exercise.

The Expectation of the Spectators was now almost at its Height, and the

Crowd pressing in, several active Persons thought they were placed

rather according to their Fortune than their Merit, and took it in their

Heads to prefer themselves from the open Area, or Pitt, to the

Galleries. This Dispute between Desert and Property brought many to the

Ground, and raised others in proportion to the highest Seats by Turns

for the Space of ten Minutes, till _Timothy Buck_ came on, and the whole

Assembly giving up their Disputes, turned their Eyes upon the Champions.

Then it was that every Man's Affection turned to one or the other

irresistibly. A judicious Gentleman near me said, _I could methinks be_

Miller's _Second, but I had rather have_ Buck _for mine_. _Miller_ had

an Audacious Look, that took the Eye; _Buck_ a perfect Composure, that

engaged the Judgment. _Buck_ came on in a plain Coat, and kept all his

Air till the Instant of Engaging; at which time he undress'd to his

Shirt, his Arm adorned with a Bandage of red Ribband. No one can

describe the sudden Concern in the whole Assembly; the most tumultuous

Crowd in Nature was as still and as much engaged, as if all their Lives

depended on the first Blow. The Combatants met in the Middle of the

Stage, and shaking Hands as removing all Malice, they retired with much

Grace to the Extremities of it; from whence they immediately faced

about, and approached each other, _Miller_ with an Heart full of

Resolution, _Buck_ with a watchful untroubled Countenance; _Buck_

regarding principally his own Defence, _Miller_ chiefly thoughtful of

annoying his Opponent. It is not easie to describe the many Escapes and

imperceptible Defences between two Men of quick Eyes and ready Limbs,

but _Miller's_ Heat laid him open to the Rebuke of the calm _Buck_, by a

large Cut on the Forehead. Much Effusion of Blood covered his Eyes in a

Moment, and the Huzzas of the Crowd undoubtedly quickened the Anguish.

The Assembly was divided into Parties upon their different ways of

Fighting; while a poor Nymph in one of the Galleries apparently suffered

for _Miller_, and burst into a Flood of Tears. As soon as his Wound was

wrapped up, he came on again with a little Rage, which still disabled

him further. But what brave Man can be wounded into more Patience and

Caution? The next was a warm eager Onset, which ended in a decisive

Stroke on the Left Leg of _Miller_. The Lady in the Gallery, during this

second Strife, covered her Face; and for my Part, I could not keep my

Thoughts from being mostly employed on the Consideration of her unhappy

Circumstance that Moment, hearing the Clash of Swords, and apprehending

Life or Victory concerned her Lover in every Blow, but not daring to

satisfie her self on whom they fell. The Wound was exposed to the View

of all who could delight in it, and sowed up on the Stage. The surly

Second of _Miller_ declared at this Time, that he would that Day

Fortnight fight Mr. _Buck_ at the same Weapons, declaring himself the

Master of the renowned _Gorman_; but _Buck_ denied him the Honour of

that couragious Disciple, and asserting that he himself had taught that

Champion, accepted the Challenge.

There is something in Nature very unaccountable on such Occasions, when

we see the People take a certain painful Gratification in beholding

these Encounters. Is it Cruelty that administers this Sort of Delight?

Or is it a Pleasure which is taken in the Exercise of Pity? It was

methought pretty remarkable, that the Business of the Day being a Tryal

of Skill, the Popularity did not run so high as one would have expected

on the Side of _Buck_. Is it that People's Passions have their Rise in

Self-Love, and thought themselves (in spite of all the Courage they had)

liable to the Fate of _Miller_, but could not so easily think themselves

qualified like _Buck_?

_Tully_ speaks of this Custom with less Horrour than one would expect,

though he confesses it was much abused in his Time, and seems directly

to approve of it under its first Regulations, when Criminals only fought

before the People.

'Crudele Gladiatorum spectaculum et inhumanum nonnullis videri solet;

et haud scio annon ita sit ut nunc fit; cum vero sontes ferro

depugnabant, auribus fortasse multa, oculis quidem nulla, poterat esse

fortior contra dolorem et mortem disciplina.

The Shows of Gladiators may be thought barbarous and inhumane, and I

know not but it is so as it is now practised; but in those Times when

only Criminals were Combatants, the Ear perhaps might receive many

better Instructions, but it is impossible that any thing which affects

our Eyes, should fortifie us so well against Pain and Death.' [3]

T.

[Footnote 1: See note on p. 118, vol. i. [Footnote 2 of No. 31.]]

[Footnote 2: John Sparkes of Coventry has this piece of biography upon

his tombstone:

'To the memory of Mr. John Sparkes, a native of this city; he was a

man of a mild disposition, a gladiator by profession, who, after

having fought 350 battles in the principal parts of Europe with honour

and applause, at length quitted the stage, sheathed his sword, and,

with Christian resignation, submitted to the grand victor in the 52nd

year of his age.

_Anno salutis humanae_, 1733.'

Serjeant James Miller afterwards became a captain, and fought in

Scotland, under the Duke of Cumberland in 1745.]

[Footnote 3: Tuscul. Quaest. lib. II., De Tolerando Dolore.]

* * * * *

No. 437. Tuesday, July 22, 1712.

'Tune impune hæc facias? Tune hic homines adolescentulos

Imperitos rerum, eductos libere, in fraudem illicis?

Sollicitando, et pollicitando eorum animos lactas?

Ac meritricios amores nuptiis conglutinas?'

Ter. And.

The other Day passed by me in her Chariot a Lady with that pale and wan

Complexion, which we sometimes see in young People, who are fallen into

Sorrow and private Anxiety of Mind, which antedate Age and Sickness. It

is not three Years ago since she was gay, airy, and a little towards

Libertine in her Carriage; but, methought, I easily forgave her that

little Insolence, which she so severely pays for in her present

Condition. _Favilla_, of whom I am speaking, is married to a sullen Fool

with Wealth: Her Beauty and Merit are lost upon the Dolt, who is

insensible of Perfection in any thing. Their Hours together are either

painful or insipid: The Minutes she has to herself in his Absence, are

not sufficient to give Vent at her Eyes to the Grief and Torment of his

last Conversation. This poor Creature was sacrificed with a Temper

(which, under the Cultivation of a Man of Sense, would have made the

most agreeable Companion) into the Arms of this loathsome Yoak-fellow by

_Sempronia_. _Sempronia_ is a good Lady, who supports herself in an

affluent Condition, by contracting Friendship with rich young Widows and

Maids of plentiful Fortunes at their own Disposal, and bestowing her

Friends upon worthless indigent Fellows; on the other Side, she ensnares

inconsiderate and rash Youths of great Estates into the Arms of vitious

Women. For this Purpose, she is accomplished in all the Arts which can

make her acceptable at impertinent Visits; she knows all that passes in

every Quarter, and is well acquainted with all the favourite Servants,

Busiebodies, Dependants, and poor Relations of all Persons of Condition

in the whole Town. At the Price of a good Sum of Money, _Sempronia_, by

the Instigation of _Favilla's_ Mother, brought about the Match for the

Daughter, and the Reputation of this, which is apparently, in point of

Fortune, more than _Favilla_ could expect, has gained her the Visits and

frequent Attendance of the Crowd of Mothers, who had rather see their

Children miserable in great Wealth, than the happiest of the Race of

Mankind in a less conspicuous State of Life. When _Sempronia_ is so well

acquainted with a Woman's Temper and Circumstance, that she believes

Marriage would be acceptable to her, and advantageous to the Man who

shall get her; her next Step is to look out for some one, whose

Condition has some secret Wound in it, and wants a Sum, yet, in the Eye

of the World, not unsuitable to her. If such is not easily had, she

immediately adorns a worthless Fellow with what Estate she thinks

convenient, and adds as great a Share of good Humour and Sobriety as is

requisite: After this is settled, no Importunities, Arts, and Devices

are omitted to hasten the Lady to her Happiness. In the general indeed

she is a Person of so strict Justice, that she marries a poor Gallant to

a rich Wench, and a Moneyless Girl to a Man of Fortune. But then she has

no manner of Conscience in the Disparity, when she has a Mind to impose

a poor Rogue for one of an Estate, she has no Remorse in adding to it,

that he is illiterate, ignorant, and unfashioned; but makes those

Imperfections Arguments of the Truth of his Wealth, and will, on such an

Occasion, with a very grave Face, charge the People of Condition with

Negligence in the Education of their Children. Exception being made

t'other Day against an ignorant Booby of her own Cloathing, whom she was

putting off for a rich Heir, _Madam_, said she, _you know there is no

making Children who know they have Estates attend their Books._

_Sempronia,_ by these Arts, is loaded with Presents, importuned for her

Acquaintance, and admired by those who do not know the first Taste of

Life, as a Woman of exemplary good Breeding. But sure, to murder and to

rob are less Iniquities, than to raise Profit by Abuses, as irreparable

as taking away Life; but more grievous, as making it lastingly unhappy.

To rob a Lady at Play of Half her Fortune, is not so ill, as giving the

whole and her self to an unworthy Husband. But _Sempronia_ can

administer Consolation to an unhappy Fair at Home, by leading her to an

agreeable Gallant elsewhere. She can then preach the general Condition

of all the Married World, and tell an unexperienced young Woman the

Methods of softning her Affliction, and laugh at her Simplicity and Want

of Knowledge, with an _Oh! my Dear, you will know better._

The Wickedness of _Sempronia,_ one would think, should be superlative;

but I cannot but esteem that of some Parents equal to it; I mean such as

sacrifice the greatest Endowments and Qualifications to base Bargains. A

Parent who forces a Child of a liberal and ingenious Spirit into the

Arms of a Clown or a Blockhead, obliges her to a Crime too odious for a

Name. It is in a Degree the unnatural Conjunction of rational and brutal

Beings. Yet what is there so common, as the bestowing an accomplished

Woman with such a Disparity. And I could name Crowds who lead miserable

Lives, or want of Knowledge in their Parents, of this Maxim, that good

Sense and good Nature always go together. That which is attributed to

Fools, and called good Nature, is only an Inability of observing what is

faulty, which turns in Marriage, into a Suspicion of every thing as

such, from a Consciousness of that Inability.

Mr. Spectator,

'I am entirely of your Opinion with Relation to the Equestrian

Females, who affect both the Masculine and Feminine Air at the same

time; and cannot forbear making a Presentment against another Order of

them who grow very numerous and powerful; and since our Language is

not very capable of good compound Words, I must be contented to call

them only the _Naked Shouldered_. These Beauties are not contented to

make Lovers where-ever they appear, but they must make Rivals at the

same time. Were you to see _Gatty_ walk the _Park_ at high Mall, you

would expect those who followed her and those who met her could

immediately draw their Swords for her. I hope, Sir, you will provide

for the future, that Women may stick to their Faces for doing any

future Mischief and not allow any but direct Traders in Beauty to

expose more than the fore Part of the Neck, unless you please to allow

this After-Game to those who are very defective in the Charms of the

Countenance. I can say, to my Sorrow, the present Practice is very

unfair, when to look back is Death; and it may be said of our

Beauties, as a great Poet did of Bullets,

'They kill and wound like Parthians as they fly.'

I submit this to your Animadversion; and am, for the little while I

have left,

_Your humble Servant, the languishing_ Philanthus.

P. S. Suppose you mended my Letter, and made a Simile about the

Porcupine, but I submit that also.

T.

* * * * *

No. 438. Wednesday, July 23, 1712. Steele.

'--Animum rege qui nisi paret

Imperat--'

Hor.

It is a very common Expression, That such a one is very good-natur'd,

but very passionate. The Expression indeed is very good-natur'd, to

allow passionate People so much Quarter: But I think a passionate Man

deserves the least Indulgence Imaginable. It is said, it is soon over;

that is, all the Mischief he does is quickly dispatch'd, which, I think,

is no great Recommendation to Favour. I have known one of these

good-natur'd passionate Men say in a mix'd Company even to his own Wife

or Child, such Things as the most inveterate Enemy of his Family would

not have spoke, even in Imagination. It is certain that quick

Sensibility is inseparable from a ready Understanding; but why should

not that good Understanding call to it self all its Force on such

Occasions, to master that sudden Inclination to Anger. One of the

greatest Souls now in the World [1] is the most subject by Nature to

Anger, and yet so famous from a Conquest of himself this Way, that he is

the known Example when you talk of Temper and Command of a Man's Self.

To contain the Spirit of Anger, is the worthiest Discipline we can put

our selves to. When a Man has made any Progress this way, a frivolous

Fellow in a Passion, is to him as contemptible as a froward Child. It

ought to be the Study of every Man, for his own Quiet and Peace. When he

stands combustible and ready to flame upon every thing that touches him,

Life is as uneasie to himself as it is to all about him. _Syncropius_

leads, of all Men living, the most ridiculous Life; he is ever

offending, and begging Pardon. If his Man enters the Room without what

he sent for, _That Blockhead_, begins he--_Gentlemen, I ask your Pardon,

but Servants now a-days_--The wrong Plates are laid, they are thrown

into the Middle of the Room; his Wife stands by in Pain for him, which

he sees in her Face, and answers as if he had heard all she was

thinking; _Why, what the Devil! Why don't you take Care to give Orders

in these things?_ His Friends sit down to a tasteless Plenty of every

thing, every Minute expecting new Insults from his impertinent Passions.

In a Word, to eat with, or visit _Syncropius_, is no other than going to

see him exercise his Family, exercise their Patience, and his own Anger.

It is monstrous that the Shame and Confusion in which this good-natured

angry Man must needs behold his Friends while he thus lays about him,

does not give him so much Reflection as to create an Amendment. This is

the most scandalous Disuse of Reason imaginable; all the harmless Part

of him is no more than that of a Bull-Dog, they are tame no longer than

they are not offended. One of these good-natured angry Men shall, in an

Instant, assemble together so many Allusions to secret Circumstances, as

are enough to dissolve the Peace of all the Families and Friends he is

acquainted with, in a Quarter of an Hour, and yet the next Moment be the

best-natured Man in the whole World. If you would see Passion in its

Purity, without Mixture of Reason, behold it represented in a mad Hero,

drawn by a mad Poet. _Nat Lee_ makes his _Alexander_ say thus:

'Away, begon, and give a Whirlwind Room,

Or I will blow you up like Dust! Avaunt;

Madness but meanly represents my Toil.

Eternal Discord!

Fury! Revenge! Disdain and Indignation!

Tear my swoln Breast, make way for Fire and Tempest.

My Brain is burst, Debate and Reason quench'd;

The Storm is up, and my hot bleeding Heart

Splits with the Rack, while Passions, like the Wind,

Rise up to Heav'n, and put out all the Stars.'

Every passionate Fellow in Town talks half the Day with as little

Consistency, and threatens Things as much out of his Power.

The next disagreeable Person to the outrageous Gentleman, is one of a

much lower Order of Anger, and he is what we commonly call a peevish

Fellow. A peevish Fellow is one who has some Reason in himself for being

out of Humour, or has a natural Incapacity for Delight, and therefore

disturbs all who are happier than himself with Pishes and Pshaws, or

other well-bred Interjections, at every thing that is said or done in

his Presence. There should be Physick mixed in the Food of all which

these Fellows eat in good Company. This Degree of Anger passes,

forsooth, for a Delicacy of Judgment, that won't admit of being easily

pleas'd: but none above the Character of wearing a peevish Man's Livery,

ought to bear with his ill Manners. All Things among Men of Sense and

Condition should pass the Censure, and have the Protection, of the Eye

of Reason.

No Man ought to be tolerated in an habitual Humour, Whim, or

Particularity of Behaviour, by any who do not wait upon him for Bread.

Next to the peevish Fellow is the Snarler. This Gentleman deals mightily

in what we call the Irony, and as those sort of People exert themselves

most against these below them, you see their Humour best, in their Talk

to their Servants. That is so like you, You are a fine Fellow, Thou art

the quickest Head-piece, and the like. One would think the Hectoring,

the Storming, the Sullen, and all the different Species and

Subordinations of the Angry should be cured, by knowing they live only

as pardoned Men; and how pityful is the Condition of being only

suffered? But I am interrupted by the pleasantest Scene of Anger and the

Disappointment of it that I have ever known, which happened while I was

yet Writing, and I overheard as I sat in the Backroom at a _French_

Bookseller's. There came into the Shop a very learned Man with an erect

Solemn Air, and tho' a Person of great Parts otherwise, slow in

understanding anything which makes against himself. The Composure of the

faulty Man, and the whimsical Perplexity of him that was justly angry,

is perfectly New: After turning over many Volumes, said the Seller to

the Buyer, _Sir, you know I have long asked you to send me back the

first Volume of French Sermons I formerly lent you;_ Sir, said the

Chapman, I have often looked for it but cannot find it; It is certainly

lost, and I know not to whom I lent it, it is so many Years ago; _then,

Sir, here is the other Volume, I'll send you home that, and please to

pay for both_. My Friend, reply'd he, canst thou be so Senseless as not

to know that one Volume is as imperfect in my Library as in your Shop?

_Yes, Sir, but it is you have lost the first Volume, and to be short I

will be Paid._ Sir, answered the Chapman, you are a young Man, your Book

is lost, and learn by this little Loss to bear much greater Adversities,

which you must expect to meet with. _Yes, Sir, I'll bear when I must,

but I have not lost now, for I say you have it and shall pay me._

Friend, you grow Warm, I tell you the Book is lost, and I foresee in the

Course even of a prosperous Life, that you will meet Afflictions to make

you Mad, if you cannot bear this Trifle. _Sir, there is in this Case no

need of bearing, for you have the Book._ I say, Sir, I have not the

Book. But your Passion will not let you hear enough to be informed that

I have it not. Learn Resignation of your self to the Distresses of this

Life: Nay do not fret and fume, it is my Duty to tell you that you are

of an impatient Spirit, and an impatient Spirit is never without Woe.

_Was ever any thing like this?_ Yes, Sir, there have been many things

like this. The Loss is but a Trifle, but your Temper is Wanton, and

incapable of the least Pain; therefore let me advise you, be patient,

the Book is lost, but do not you for that Reason lose your self.

T.

[Footnote 1: Lord Somers.]

* * * * *

No. 439. Thursday, July 24, 1712. Addison.

'Hi narrata ferunt alio: mensuraque ficti

Crescit; et auditis aliquid novus adjicit auctor.'

Ovid.

Ovid describes the Palace of Fame [1] as situated in the very Center of

the Universe, and perforated with so many Windows and Avenues as gave

her the Sight of every thing that was done in the Heavens, in the Earth,

and in the Sea. The Structure of it was contrived in so admirable a

manner, that it Eccho'd every Word which was spoken in the whole Compass

of Nature; so that the Palace, says the Poet, was always filled with a

confused Hubbub of low dying Sounds, the Voices being almost spent and

worn out before they arrived at this General Rendezvous of Speeches and

Whispers.

I consider Courts with the same Regard to the Governments which they

superintend, as _Ovid's_ Palace of Fame with regard to the Universe. The

Eyes of a watchful Minister run through the whole People. There is

scarce a Murmur or Complaint that does not reach his Ears. They have

News-gatherers and Intelligencers distributed into their several Walks

and Quarters, who bring in their respective Quotas, and make them

acquainted with the Discourse and Conversation of the whole Kingdom or

Common-wealth where they are employed. The wisest of Kings, alluding to

these invisible and unsuspected Spies, who are planted by Kings and

Rulers over their Fellow-Citizens, as well as to those Voluntary

Informers that are buzzing about the Ears of a great Man, and making

their Court by such secret Methods of Intelligence, has given us a very

prudent Caution: _Curse not the King, no not in thy Thought, and Curse

not the Rich in thy Bedchamber: For a Bird of the Air shall carry the

Voice, and that which hath Wings shall tell the matter._ [2]

As it is absolutely necessary for Rulers to make use of other People's

Eyes and Ears, they should take particular Care to do it in such a

manner, that it may not bear too hard on the Person whose Life and

Conversation are enquired into. A Man who is capable of so infamous a

Calling as that of a Spy, is not very much to be relied upon. He can

have no great Ties of Honour, or Checks of Conscience, to restrain him

in those covert Evidences, where the Person accused has no Opportunity

of vindicating himself. He will be more industrious to carry that which

is grateful, than that which is true.

There will be no Occasion for him, if he does not hear and see things

worth Discovery; so that he naturally inflames every Word and

Circumstance, aggravates what is faulty, perverts what is good, and

misrepresents what is indifferent. Nor is it to be doubted but that such

ignominious Wretches let their private Passions into these their

clandestine Informations, and often wreck their particular Spite or

Malice against the Person whom they are set to watch. It is a pleasant

Scene enough, which an _Italian_ Author describes between a Spy, and a

Cardinal who employed him. The Cardinal is represented as minuting down

every thing that is told him. The Spy begins with a low Voice, Such an

one, the Advocate, whispered to one of his Friends, within my Hearing,

that your Eminence was a very great Poultron; and after having given his

Patron time to take it down, adds that another called him a Mercenary

Rascal in a publick Conversation. The Cardinal replies, Very well, and

bids him go on. The Spy proceeds, and loads him with Reports of the same

Nature, till the Cardinal rises in great Wrath, calls him an impudent

Scoundrel, and kicks him out of the Room.

It is observed of great and heroick Minds, that they have not only shewn

a particular Disregard to those unmerited Reproaches which have been

cast upon 'em, but have been altogether free from that Impertinent

Curiosity of enquiring after them, or the poor Revenge of resenting

them. The Histories of _Alexander_ and _Cæsar_ are full of this kind of

Instances. Vulgar Souls are of a quite contrary Character. _Dionysius_,

the Tyrant of _Sicily_, had a Dungeon which was a very curious Piece of

Architecture; and of which, as I am informed, there are still to be seen

some Remains in that Island. It was called _Dionysius's_ Ear, and built

with several little Windings and Labyrinths in the form of a real Ear.

The Structure of it made it a kind of whispering Place, but such a one

as gathered the Voice of him who spoke into a Funnel, which was placed

at the very Top of it. The Tyrant used to lodge all his State-Criminals,

or those whom he supposed to be engaged together in any Evil Designs

upon him, in this Dungeon. He had at the same time an Apartment over it,

where he used to apply himself to the Funnel, and by that Means

over-hear every thing that was whispered in [the [3]] Dungeon. I believe

one may venture to affirm, that a _Cæsar_ or an _Alexander_ would rather

have died by the Treason, than have used such disingenuous Means for the

detecting of it. A Man, who in ordinary Life is very Inquisitive after

every thing which is spoken ill of him, passes his Time but very

indifferently. He is wounded by every Arrow that is shot at him, and

puts it in the Power of every insignificant Enemy to disquiet him. Nay,

he will suffer from what has been said of him, when it is forgotten by

those who said or heard it. For this Reason I could never bear one of

those officious Friends, that would be telling every malicious Report,

every idle Censure that [passed [4]] upon me. The Tongue of Man is so

petulant, and his Thoughts so variable, that one should not lay too

great a Stress upon any present Speeches and Opinions. Praise and

Obloquy proceed very frequently out of the same Mouth upon the same

Person, and upon the same Occasion. A generous Enemy will sometimes

bestow Commendations, as the dearest Friend cannot sometimes refrain

from speaking Ill. The Man who is indifferent in either of these

Respects, gives his Opinion at random, and praises or disapproves as he

finds himself in Humour.

I shall conclude this Essay with Part of a Character, which

is finely drawn by the Earl of _Clarendon_, in the first Book of

his History, and which gives us the lively Picture of a great

Man teizing himself with an absurd Curiosity.

'He had not that Application and Submission, and Reverence for the

Queen, as might have been expected from his Wisdom and Breeding; and

often crossed her Pretences and Desires with more Rudeness than was

natural to him. Yet he was impertinently sollicitous to know what her

Majesty said of him in private, and what Resentments she had towards

him. And when by some Confidents, who had their Ends upon him from

those Offices, he was informed of some bitter Expressions fallen from

her Majesty, he was so exceedingly afflicted and tormented with the

Sense of it, that sometimes by passionate Complaints and

Representations to the King; sometimes by more dutiful Addresses and

Expostulations with the Queen, in bewailing his Misfortune; he

frequently exposed himself, and left his Condition worse than it was

before, and the Eclaircisment commonly ended in the Discovery of the

Persons from whom he had received his most secret Intelligence.' [5]

C.

[Footnote 1: Metamorphoses, Bk xii.]

[Footnote 2: Eccl. x. 20.]

[Footnote 3: [this]]

[Footnote 4: [passes]]

[Footnote 5: Written of Lord Treasurer Western, Earl of Portland.]

* * * * *

No. 440. Friday, July 25, 1712. Addison

'Vivere si rectè nescis, discede peritis.'

Hor.

I have already given my Reader an Account of a Sett of merry Fellows,

who are passing their Summer together in the Country, being provided of

a great House, where there is not only a convenient Apartment for every

particular Person, but a large Infirmary for the Reception of such of

them as are any way indisposed, or out of Humour. Having lately received

a Letter from the Secretary of this Society, by Order of the whole

Fraternity, which acquaints me with their Behaviour during the last

Week, I shall here make a Present of it to the Publick.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'We are glad to find that you approve the Establishment which we have

here made for the retrieving of good Manners and agreeable

Conversation, and shall use our best Endeavours so to improve our

selves in this our Summer Retirement, that we may next Winter serve as

Patterns to the Town. But to the end that this our Institution may be

no less Advantageous to the Publick than to our selves, we shall

communicate to you one Week of our Proceedings, desiring you at the

same time, if you see any thing faulty in them, to favour us with your

Admonitions. For you must know, Sir, that it has been proposed among

us to chuse you for our Visitor, to which I must further add, that one

of the College having declared last Week, he did not like the

_Spectator_ of the Day, and not being able to assign any just Reasons

for such his Dislike, he was sent to the Infirmary _Nemine

Contradicente_.

'On _Monday_ the Assembly was in very good Humour, having received

some Recruits of _French_ Claret that Morning: when unluckily, towards

the middle of the Dinner, one of the Company swore at his Servant in a

very rough manner, for having put too much Water in his Wine. Upon

which the President of the Day, who is always the Mouth of the

Company, after having convinced him of the Impertinence of his

Passion, and the Insult it had made upon the Company, ordered his Man

to take him from the Table and convey him to the Infirmary. There was

but one more sent away that Day; this was a Gentleman who is reckoned

by some Persons one of the greatest Wits, and by others one of the

greatest Boobies about Town. This you will say is a strange Character,

but what makes it stranger yet, it is a very true one, for he is

perpetually the Reverse of himself, being always merry or dull to

Excess. We brought him hither to divert us, which he did very well

upon the Road, having lavished away as much Wit and Laughter upon the

Hackney Coachman as might have served him during his whole Stay here,

had it been duly managed. He had been lumpish for two or three Days,

but was so far connived at, in hopes of Recovery, that we dispatched

one of the briskest Fellows among the Brotherhood into the Infirmary,

for having told him at Table he was not merry. But our President

observing that he indulged himself in this long Fit of Stupidity, and

construing it as a Contempt of the College, ordered him to retire into

the Place prepared for such Companions. He was no sooner got into it,

but his Wit and Mirth returned upon him in so violent a manner, that

he shook the whole Infirmary with the Noise of it, and had so good an

Effect upon the rest of the Patients, that he brought them all out to

Dinner with him the next Day.

'On _Tuesday_ we were no sooner sat down, but one of the Company

complained that his Head aked; upon which another asked him, in an

insolent manner, what he did there then; this insensibly grew into

some warm Words; so that the President, in order to keep the Peace,

gave directions to take them both from the Table, and lodge them in

the Infirmary. Not long after, another of the Company telling us, he

knew by a Pain in his Shoulder that we should have some Rain, the

President ordered him to be removed, and placed as a Weather-glass in

the Apartment above mentioned.

'On _Wednesday_ a Gentleman having received a Letter written in a

Woman's Hand, and changing Colour twice or thrice as he read it,

desired leave to retire into the Infirmary. The President consented,

but denied him the Use of Pen, Ink and Paper, till such time as he had

slept upon it. One of the Company being seated at the lower end of the

Table, and discovering his secret Discontent by finding fault with

every Dish that was served up, and refusing to Laugh at any thing that

was said, the President told him, that he found he was in an uneasie

Seat, and desired him to accommodate himself better in the Infirmary.

After Dinner a very honest Fellow chancing to let a Punn fall from

him, his Neighbour cryed out, _to the Infirmary_; at the same time

pretending to be Sick at it, as having the same Natural Antipathy to a

Punn, which some have to a Cat. This produced a long Debate. Upon the

whole, the Punnster was Acquitted and his Neighbour sent off.

'On _Thursday_ there was but one Delinquent. This was a Gentleman of

strong Voice, but weak Understanding. He had unluckily engaged himself

in a Dispute with a Man of excellent Sense, but of a modest Elocution.

The Man of Heat replied to every Answer of his Antagonist with a

louder Note than ordinary, and only raised his Voice when he should

have enforced his Argument. Finding himself at length driven to an

Absurdity, he still reasoned in a more clamorous and confused manner,

and to make the greater Impression upon his Hearers, concluded with a

loud Thump upon the Table. The President immediately ordered him to be

carried off, and dieted with Water-gruel, till such time as he should

be sufficiently weakened for Conversation.

'On _Friday_ there passed very little remarkable, saving only, that

several Petitions were read of the Persons in Custody, desiring to be

released from their Confinement, and vouching for one another's good

Behaviour for the future.

'On _Saturday_ we received many Excuses from Persons who had found

themselves in an unsociable Temper, and had voluntarily shut

themselves up. The Infirmary was indeed never so full as on this Day,

which I was at some loss to account for, till upon my going Abroad I

observed that it was an Easterly Wind. The Retirement of most of my

Friends has given me Opportunity and Leisure of writing you this

Letter, which I must not conclude without assuring you, that all the

Members of our College, as well those who are under Confinement, as

those who are at Liberty, are your very humble Servants, tho' none

more than, _&c._'

C.

* * * * *

No. 441. Saturday, July 26, 1712. Addison.

'Si fractus illabatur orbis

Impavidum ferient ruinæ.'

Hor.

Man, considered in himself, is a very helpless and a very wretched

Being. He is subject every Moment to the greatest Calamities and

Misfortunes. He is beset with Dangers on all sides, and may become

unhappy by numberless Casualties, which he could not foresee, nor have

prevented, had he foreseen them.

It is our Comfort, while we are obnoxious to so many Accidents, that we

are under the Care of one who directs Contingencies, and has in his

Hands the Management of every Thing that is capable of annoying or

offending us; who knows the Assistance we stand in need of, and is

always ready to bestow it on those who ask it of him.

The natural Homage, which such a Creature bears to so infinitely Wise

and Good a Being, is a firm Reliance on him for the Blessings and

Conveniences of Life, and an habitual Trust in him for Deliverance out

of all such Dangers and Difficulties as may befall us.

The Man, who always lives in this Disposition of Mind, has not the same

dark and melancholy Views of Human Nature, as he who considers himself

abstractedly from this Relation to the Supreme Being. At the same time

that he reflects upon his own Weakness and Imperfection, he comforts

himself with the Contemplation of those Divine Attributes, which are

employed for his Safety and his Welfare. He finds his Want of Foresight

made up by the Omniscience of him who is his Support. He is not sensible

of his own want of Strength, when he knows that his Helper is Almighty.

In short, the Person who has a firm trust on the Supreme Being is

Powerful in _his_ Power, Wise by _his_ Wisdom, Happy by _his_ Happiness.

He reaps the Benefit of every Divine Attribute, and loses his own

Insufficiency in the Fullness of Infinite Perfection.

To make our Lives more easie to us, we are commanded to put our Trust in

him, who is thus able to relieve and succour us; the Divine Goodness

having made such a Reliance a Duty, notwithstanding we should have been

miserable had it been forbidden us.

Among several Motives, which might be made use of to recommend this Duty

to us, I shall only take notice of those that follow.

The first and strongest is, that we are promised, He will not fail those

who put their Trust in him.

But without considering the Supernatural Blessing which accompanies this

Duty, we may observe that it has a natural Tendency to its own Reward,

or in other Words, that this firm Trust and Confidence in the great

Disposer of all Things, contributes very much to the getting clear of

any Affliction, or to the bearing it manfully. A Person who believes he

has his Succour at hand, and that he acts in the sight of his Friend,

often excites himself beyond his Abilities, and does Wonders that are

not to be matched by one who is not animated with such a Confidence of

Success. I could produce Instances from History, of Generals, who out of

a Belief that they were under the Protection of some invisible

Assistant, did not only encourage their Soldiers to do their utmost, but

have acted themselves beyond what they would have done, had they not

been inspired by such a Belief. I might in the same manner show how such

a Trust in the Assistance of an Almighty Being, naturally produces

Patience, Hope, Cheerfulness, and all other Dispositions of Mind that

alleviate those Calamities which we are not able to remove.

The Practice of this Virtue administers great Comfort to the Mind of Man

in Times of Poverty and Affliction, but most of all in the Hour of

Death. When the Soul is hovering in the last Moments of its [Separation,

[1]] when it is just entring on another State of Existence, to converse

with Scenes, and Objects, and Companions that are altogether new, what

can support her under such Tremblings of Thought, such Fear, such

Anxiety, such Apprehensions, but the casting of all her Cares upon him

who first gave her Being, who has conducted her through one Stage of it,

and will be always with her to Guide and Comfort her in her [Progress

[2]] through Eternity?

_David_ has very beautifully represented this steady Reliance on God

Almighty in his twenty third Psalm, which is a kind of _Pastoral_ Hymn,

and filled with those Allusions which are usual in that kind of Writing.

As the Poetry is very exquisite, I shall present my Reader with the

following Translation of it. [3]

I. The Lord my Pasture shall prepare,

And feed me with a Shepherd's Care;

His Presence shall my Wants supply,

And guard me with a watchful Eye;

My Noon-day Walks he shall attend,

And all my Mid-night Hours defend.

II. When in the sultry Glebe I faint,

Or on the thirsty Mountain pant;

To fertile Vales, and dewy Meads

My weary wand'ring Steps he leads;

Where peaceful Rivers, soft and slow,

Amid the verdant Landskip flow.

III. Tho' in the Paths of Death I tread,

With gloomy Horrors overspread,

My steadfast Heart shall fear no Ill,

For thou, O Lord, art with me still;

Thy friendly Crook shall give me Aid,

And guide me through the dreadful Shade.

IV. Tho' in a bare and rugged Way,

Through devious lonely Wilds I stray,

Thy Bounty shall my Pains beguile;

The barren Wilderness shall smile,

With sudden Greens and Herbage crown'd,

And Streams shall murmur all around.

C.

[Footnote 1: Dissolution]

[Footnote 2: Passage]

[Footnote 3: By Addison]

* * * * *

No. 442. Monday, July 28, 1712. Steele.

'--Scribimus Indocti Doctique--'

Hor.

I do not know whether I enough explained my self to the World, when I

invited all Men to be assistant to me in this my Work of Speculation;

for I have not yet acquainted my Readers, that besides the Letters and

valuable Hints I have from Time to Time received from my Correspondents,

I have by me several curious and extraordinary Papers sent with a Design

(as no one will doubt when they are published) that they might be

printed entire, and without any Alteration, by way of 'Spectator'. I

must acknowledge also, that I my self being the first Projector of the

Paper, thought I had a Right to make them my own, by dressing them in my

own Style, by leaving out what would not appear like mine, and by adding

whatever might be proper to adapt them to the Character and Genius of my

Paper, with which it was almost impossible these could exactly

correspond, it being certain that hardly two Men think alike, and

therefore so many Men so many 'Spectators'. Besides, I must own my

Weakness for Glory is such, that if I consulted that only, I might be so

far sway'd by it, as almost to wish that no one could write a

'Spectator' besides myself; nor can I deny, but upon the first Perusal

of those Papers, I felt some secret Inclinations of Ill-will towards the

Persons who wrote them. This was the Impression I had upon the first

reading them; but upon a late Review (more for the Sake of Entertainment

than Use) regarding them with another Eye than I had done at first, (for

by converting them as well as I could to my own Use, I thought I had

utterly disabled them from ever offending me again as 'Spectators') I

found my self moved by a Passion very different from that of Envy;

sensibly touched with Pity, the softest and most generous of all

Passions, when I reflected what a cruel Disapointment the Neglect of

those Papers must needs have been to the Writers who impatiently longed

to see them appear in Print, and who, no doubt, triumphed to themselves

in the Hopes of having a Share with me in the Applause of the Publick; a

Pleasure so great, that none but those who have experienced it can have

a Sense of it. In this Manner of viewing these Papers, I really found I

had not done them Justice, there being something so extremely natural

and peculiarly good in some of them, that I will appeal to the World

whether it was possible to alter a Word in them without doing them a

manifest Hurt and Violence; and whether they can ever appear rightly,

and, as they ought, but in their own native Dress and Colours: And

therefore I think I should not only wrong them, but deprive the World of

a considerable Satisfaction, should I any longer delay the making them

publick.

After I have published a few of these 'Spectators', I doubt not but I

shall find the Success of them to equal, if not surpass, that of the

best of my own. An Author should take all Methods to humble himself in

the Opinion he has of his own Performances. When these Papers appear to

the World, I doubt not but they will be followed by many others; and I

shall not repine, though I my self shall have left me but very few Days

to appear in Publick: But preferring the general Weal and Advantage to

any Consideration of my self, I am resolved for the Future to publish

any 'Spectator' that deserves it, entire, and without any Alteration;

assuring the World (if there can be Need of it) that it is none of mine

and if the Authors think fit to subscribe their Names, I will add them.

I think the best way of promoting this generous and useful Design, will

be by giving out Subjects or Themes of all Kinds whatsoever, on which

(with a Preamble of the extraordinary Benefit and Advantage that may

accrue thereby to the Publick) I will invite all manner of Persons,

whether Scholars, Citizens, Courtiers, Gentlemen of the Town or Country,

and all Beaux, Rakes, Smarts, Prudes, Coquets, Housewives, and all Sorts

of Wits, whether Male or Female, and however distinguished, whether they

be True-Wits, Whole, or Half-Wits, or whether Arch, Dry, Natural,

Acquired, Genuine, or Deprav'd Wits; and Persons of all sorts of Tempers

and Complexions, whether the Severe, the Delightful, the Impertinent,

the Agreeable, the Thoughtful, Busie, or Careless; the Serene or Cloudy,

Jovial or Melancholy, Untowardly or Easie; the Cold, Temperate, or

Sanguine; and of what Manners or Dispositions soever, whether the

Ambitious or Humble-minded, the Proud or Pitiful, Ingenious or

Base-minded, Good or Ill-natur'd, Publick-spirited or Selfish; and under

what Fortune or Circumstance soever, whether the Contented or Miserable,

Happy or Unfortunate, High or Low, Rich or Poor (whether so through Want

of Money, or Desire of more) Healthy or Sickly, Married or Single; nay,

whether Tall or Short, Fat or Lean; and of what Trade, Occupation,

Profession, Station, Country, Faction, Party, Persuasion, Quality, Age

or Condition soever, who have ever made Thinking a Part of their

Business or Diversion, and have any thing worthy to impart on these

Subjects to the World, according to their several and respective Talents

or Genius's, and as the Subject given out hits their Tempers, Humours,

or Circumstances, or may be made profitable to the Publick by their

particular Knowledge or Experience in the Matter proposed, to do their

utmost on them by such a Time; to the End they may receive the

inexpressible and irresistible Pleasure of seeing their Essay allowed of

and relished by the rest of Mankind.

I will not prepossess the Reader with too great Expectation of the

extraordinary Advantages which must redound to the Publick by these

Essays, when the different Thoughts and Observations of all Sorts of

Persons, according to their Quality, Age, Sex, Education, Professions,

Humours, Manners and Conditions, &c. shall be set out by themselves in

the clearest and most genuine Light, and as they themselves would wish

to have them appear to the World.

_The_ Thesis _propos'd for the present Exercise of the Adventurers to

write_ Spectators, _is_ MONEY, _on which Subject all Persons are desired

to send their Thoughts within Ten Days after the Date hereof_.

T.

* * * * *

No. 443. Tuesday, July 29, 1712. Steele

'Sublatam ex oculis Quærimus invidi.'

Hor.

Camilla _to the_ SPECTATOR.

_Venice, July 10_, N. S.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'I Take it extreamly ill, that you do not reckon conspicuous Persons

of your Nation are within your Cognizance, tho' out of the Dominions

of Great Britain. I little thought in the green Years of my Life, that

I should ever call it an Happiness to be out of dear _England_; but as

I grew to Woman, I found my self less acceptable in Proportion to the

Encrease of my Merit. Their Ears in _Italy_ are so differently formed

from the Make of yours in _England_, that I never come upon the Stage,

but a general Satisfaction appears in every Countenance of the whole

People. When I dwell upon a Note, I behold all the Men accompanying me

with Heads enclining and falling of their Persons on one Side, as

dying away with me. The Women too do Justice to my Merit, and no

ill-natur'd worthless Creature cries, _The vain Thing_, when I am rapt

up in the Performance of my Part, and sensibly touched with the Effect

my Voice has upon all who hear me. I live here distinguished as one

whom Nature has been liberal to in a graceful Person, an exalted Mein,

and Heavenly Voice. These Particularities in this strange Country, are

Arguments for Respect and Generosity to her who is possessed of them.

The _Italians_ see a thousand Beauties I am sensible I have no

Pretence to, and abundantly make up to me the Injustice I received in

my own Country, of disallowing me what I really had. The Humour of

Hissing, which you have among you, I do not know any thing of; and

their Applauses are uttered in Sighs, and bearing a Part at the

Cadences of Voice with the Persons who are performing. I am often put

in Mind of those complaisant Lines of my own Countryman, [1] when he

is calling all his Faculties together to hear _Arabella_;

'Let all be hush'd, each softest Motion cease,

Be ev'ry loud tumultuous Thought at Peace;

And ev'ry ruder Gasp of Breath

Be calm, as in the Arms of Death:

And thou, most fickle, most uneasie Part,

Thou restless Wanderer, my Heart,

Be still; gently, ah! gently leave,

Thou busie, idle Thing, to heave.

Stir not a Pulse: and let my Blood,

That turbulent, unruly Flood,

Be softly staid;

Let me be all but my Attention dead.'

'The whole City of _Venice_ is as still when I am singing, as this

Polite Hearer was to Mrs. _Hunt_. But when they break that Silence,

did you know the Pleasure I am in, when every Man utters his Applause,

by calling me aloud the _Dear Creature_, the _Angel_, the _Venus; What

Attitude she moves with!--Hush, she sings again!_ We have no boistrous

Wits who dare disturb an Audience, and break the publick Peace meerly

to shew they dare. Mr. SPECTATOR, I write this to you thus in Haste,

to tell you I am so very much at ease here, that I know nothing but

Joy; and I will not return, but leave you in _England_ to hiss all

Merit of your own Growth off the Stage. I know, Sir, you were always

my Admirer, and therefore I am yours,

_CAMILLA_. [2]

P. S. I am ten times better dressed than ever I was in _England_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'The Project in yours of the 11th Instant, of furthering the

Correspondence and Knowledge of that considerable Part of Mankind, the

Trading World, cannot but be highly commendable. Good Lectures to

young Traders may have very good Effects on their Conduct: but beware

you propagate no false Notions of Trade; let none of your

Correspondents impose on the World, by putting forth base Methods in a

good Light, and glazing them over with improper Terms. I would have no

Means of Profit set for Copies to others, but such as are laudable in

themselves. Let not Noise be called Industry, nor Impudence Courage.

Let not good Fortune be imposed on the World for good Management, nor

Poverty be called Folly; impute not always Bankruptcy to Extravagance,

nor an Estate to Foresight; Niggardliness is not good Husbandry, nor

Generosity Profusion.

'_Honestus_ is a well-meaning and judicious Trader, hath substantial

Goods, and trades with his own Stock; husbands his Money to the best

Advantage, without taking all Advantages of the Necessities of his

Workmen, or grinding the Face of the Poor. _Fortunatus_ is stocked

with Ignorance, and consequently with Self-Opinion; the Quality of his

Goods cannot but be suitable to that of his Judgment. _Honestus_

pleases discerning People, and keeps their Custom by good Usage; makes

modest Profit by modest Means, to the decent Support of his Family:

Whilst _Fortunatus_ blustering always, pushes on, promising much, and

performing little, with Obsequiousness offensive to People of Sense;

strikes at all, catches much the greater Part; raises a considerable

Fortune by Imposition on others, to the Disencouragement and Ruin of

those who trade in the same Way.

'I give here but loose Hints, and beg you to be very circumspect in

the Province you have now undertaken: If you perform it successfully,

it will be a very great Good; for nothing is more wanting, than that

Mechanick Industry were set forth with the Freedom and Greatness of

Mind which ought always to accompany a Man of a liberal Education.

_Your humble Servant,_

R. C.

_From my Shop under the_ Royal-Exchange, July 14.

_July_ 24, 1712.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,

'Notwithstanding the repeated Censures that your Spectatorial Wisdom

has passed upon People more remarkable for Impudence than Wit, there

are yet some remaining, who pass with the giddy Part of Mankind for

sufficient Sharers of the latter, who have nothing but the former

Qualification to recommend them. Another timely Animadversion is

absolutely necessary; be pleased therefore once for all to let these

Gentlemen know, that there is neither Mirth nor Good Humour in hooting

a young Fellow out of Countenance; nor that it will ever constitute a

Wit, to conclude a tart Piece of Buffoonry with a _what makes you

blush?_ Pray please to inform them again, That to speak what they know

is shocking, proceeds from ill Nature, and a Sterility of Brain;

especially when the Subject will not admit of Raillery, and their

Discourse has no Pretension to Satyr but what is in their Design to

disoblige. I should be very glad too if you would take Notice, that a

daily Repetition of the same over-bearing Insolence is yet more

insupportable, and a Confirmation of very extraordinary Dulness. The

sudden Publication of this, may have an Effect upon a notorious

Offender of this Kind, whose Reformation would redound very much to the

Satisfaction and Quiet of

_Your most humble Servant_,

F.B. [3]

[Footnote 1: William Congreve upon Arabella Hunt.]

[Footnote 2: Mrs. Tofts, see note on p. 85, vol, i. [Footnote 3 of No.

22.]

[Footnote 3: Said to be the initials of Francis Beasniffe.]

* * * * *

No. 444. Wednesday, July 30, 1712. Steele.

['Parturiunt montes.'

Hor. [1]]

It gives me much Despair in the Design of reforming the World by my

Speculations, when I find there always arise, from one Generation to

another, successive Cheats and Bubbles, as naturally as Beasts of Prey,

and those which are to be their Food. There is hardly a Man in the

World, one would think, so ignorant, as not to know that the ordinary

Quack Doctors, who publish their great Abilities in little brown

Billets, distributed to all who pass by, are to a Man Impostors and

Murderers; yet such is the Credulity of the Vulgar, and the Impudence of

these Professors, that the Affair still goes on, and new Promises of

what was never done before are made every Day. What aggravates the Just

is, that even this Promise has been made as long as the Memory of Man

can trace it, and yet nothing performed, and yet still prevails. As I

was passing along to-day, a Paper given into my Hand by a Fellow without

a Nose tells us as follows what good News is come to Town, to wit, that

there is now a certain Cure for the _French_ Disease, by a Gentleman

just come from his Travels.

"In Russel-Court, over-against the Cannon-Ball, at the Surgeon's Arms

in Drury-Lane, is lately come from his Travels a Surgeon who has

practised Surgery and Physick both by Sea and Land these twenty four

Years. He (by the Blessing) cures the Yellow Jaundice, Green Sickness,

Scurvy, Dropsy, Surfeits, long Sea Voyages, Campains, and Womens

Miscarriages, Lying-Inn, &c. as some People that has been lame these

thirty Years can testifie; in short, he cureth all Diseases incident

to Men, Women, or Children [2]."

If a Man could be so indolent as to look upon this Havock of the human

Species which is made by Vice and Ignorance, it would be a good

ridiculous Work to comment upon the Declaration of this accomplished

Traveller. There is something unaccountably taking among the Vulgar in

those who come from a great Way off. Ignorant People of Quality, as many

there are of such, doat excessively this Way; many Instances of which

every Man will suggest to himself without my Enumeration of them. The

Ignorants of lower Order, who cannot, like the upper Ones, be profuse of

their Money to those recommended by coming from a Distance, are no less

complaisant than the others, for they venture their Lives from the same

Admiration.

_The Doctor is lately come from his Travels_, and has _practised_ both

by Sea and Land, and therefore Cures the _Green Sickness, long Sea

Voyages, Campains, and Lying-Inn_. Both by Sea and Land!--I will not

answer for the Distempers called _Sea Voyages and Campains_; But I dare

say, those of Green Sickness and Lying-Inn might be as well taken Care

of if the Doctor staid a-shoar. But the Art of managing Mankind, is only

to make them stare a little, to keep up their Astonishment, to let

nothing be familiar to them, but ever to have something in your Sleeve,

in which they must think you are deeper than they are. There is an

ingenious Fellow, a Barber, of my Acquaintance, who, besides his broken

Fiddle and a dryed Sea-Monster, has a Twine-Cord, strained with two

Nails at each End, over his Window, and the Words _Rainy, Dry, Wet_, and

so forth, written, to denote the Weather according to the Rising or

Falling of the Cord. We very great Scholars are not apt to wonder at

this: But I observed a very honest Fellow, a chance Customer, who sate

in the Chair before me to be shaved, fix his Eye upon this Miraculous

Performance during the Operation upon his Chin and Face. When those and

his Head also were cleared of all Incumbrances and Excrescences, he

looked at the Fish, then at the Fiddle, still grubling in his Pockets,

and casting his Eye again at the Twine, and the Words writ on each Side;

then altered his mind as to Farthings, and gave my Friend a Silver

Six-pence. The Business, as I said, is to keep up the Amazement; and if

my Friend had had only the Skeleton and Kitt, he must have been

contented with a less Payment. But the Doctor we were talking of, adds

to his long Voyages the Testimony of some People _that has been thirty

Years lame._ When I received my Paper, a sagacious Fellow took one at

the same time, and read till he came to the Thirty Years Confinement of

his Friends, and went off very well convinced of the Doctor's

Sufficiency. You have many of these prodigious Persons, who have had

some extraordinary Accident at their Birth, or a great Disaster in some

Part of their Lives. Any thing, however foreign from the Business the

People want of you, will convince them of your Ability in that you

profess. There is a Doctor in _Mouse-Alley_ near _Wapping,_ who sets up

for curing Cataracts upon the Credit of having, as his Bill sets forth,

lost an Eye in the Emperor's Service. His Patients come in upon this,

and he shews the Muster-Roll, which confirms that he was in his Imperial

Majesty's Troops; and he puts out their Eyes with great Success. Who

would believe that a Man should be a Doctor for the Cure of bursten

Children, by declaring that his Father and Grandfather were [born [3]]

bursten? But _Charles Ingoltson,_ next Door to the _Harp_ in _Barbican,_

has made a pretty Penny by that Asseveration. The Generality go upon

their first Conception, and think no further; all the rest is granted.

They take it, that there is something uncommon in you, and give you

Credit for the rest. You may be sure it is upon that I go, when

sometimes, let it be to the Purpose or not, I keep a _Latin_ Sentence in

my Front; and I was not a little pleased when I observed one of my

Readers say, casting his Eye on my twentieth Paper, _More_ Latin _still?

What a prodigious Scholar is this Man!_ But as I have here taken much

Liberty with this learned Doctor, I must make up all I have said by

repeating what he seems to be in Earnest in, and honestly promise to

those who will not receive him as a great Man; to wit, That from _Eight

to Twelve, and from Two till Six, he attends for the good of the Publick

to bleed for Three Pence._

T.

[Footnote 1: [--_Dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu_.--Hor.]]

[Footnote 2: In the first issue the whole bill was published.

Two-thirds of it, including its more infamous part, was omitted from the

reprint, and the reader will, I hope, excuse me the citation of it in

this place.

[Footnote 3: both]

* * * * *

No. 445. Thursday, July 31, 1712. Addison.

'Tanti non es ais. Sapis, Luperce.'

Mart.

This is the Day on which many eminent Authors will probably Publish

their Last Words. I am afraid that few of our Weekly Historians, who are

Men that above all others delight in War, will be able to subsist under

the Weight of a Stamp, and an approaching Peace. A Sheet of Blank Paper

that must have this new Imprimatur clapt upon it, before it is qualified

to Communicate any thing to the Publick, will make its way in the World

but very heavily. In short, the Necessity of carrying a Stamp [1], and

the Improbability of notifying a Bloody Battel, will, I am afraid, both

concur to the sinking of those thin Folios, which have every other Day

retailed to us the History of _Europe_ for several Years last past. A

Facetious Friend of mine, who loves a Punn, calls this present Mortality

among Authors, _The Fall of the Leaf._

I remember, upon Mr. _Baxter's_ Death, there was Published a Sheet of

very good Sayings, inscribed, _The last Words of Mr._ Baxter. The Title

sold so great a Number of these Papers, that about a Week after there

came out a second Sheet, inscrib'd, _More last Words of Mr._ Baxter. In

the same manner, I have Reason to think, that several Ingenious Writers,

who have taken their Leave of the Publick, in farewell Papers, will not

give over so, but intend to appear again, tho' perhaps under another

Form, and with a different Title. Be that as it will, it is my Business,

in this place, to give an Account of my own Intentions, and to acquaint

my Reader with the Motives by which I Act, in this great Crisis of the

Republick of Letters.

I have been long debating in my own Heart, whether I should throw up my

Pen, as an Author that is cashiered by the Act of Parliament, which is

to Operate within these Four and Twenty Hours, or whether I should still

persist in laying my Speculations, from Day to Day, before the Publick.

The Argument which prevails with me most on the first side of the

Question is, that I am informed by my Bookseller he must raise the Price

of every single Paper to Two-Pence, or that he shall not be able to pay

the Duty of it. Now as I am very desirous my Readers should have their

Learning as cheap as possible, it is with great Difficulty that I comply

with him in this Particular.

However, upon laying my Reasons together in the Balance, I find that

those which plead for the Continuance of this Work, have much the

greater Weight. For, in the first Place, in Recompence for the Expence

to which this will put my Readers, it is to be hoped they may receive

from every Paper so much Instruction, as will be a very good Equivalent.

And, in order to this, I would not advise any one to take it in, who

after the Perusal of it, does not find himself Two-pence the wiser, or

the better Man for it; or who upon Examination, does not believe that he

has had Two-pennyworth of Mirth or Instruction for his Money.

But I must confess there is another Motive which prevails with me more

than the former. I consider that the Tax on Paper was given for the

Support of the Government; and as I have Enemies, who are apt to pervert

every thing I do or say, I fear they would ascribe the laying down my

Paper, on such an Occasion, to a Spirit of Malecontentedness, which I am

resolved none shall ever justly upbraid me with. No, I shall glory in

contributing my utmost to the Weal Publick; and if my Country receives

Five or Six Pounds a-day by my Labours, I shall be very well pleased to

find my self so useful a Member. It is a received Maxim, that no honest

Man should enrich himself by Methods that are prejudicial to the

Community in which he lives; and by the same Rule I think we may

pronounce the Person to deserve very well of his Countrymen, whose

Labours bring more into the publick Coffers, than into his own Pocket.

Since I have mentioned the Word Enemies, I must explain my self so far

as to acquaint my Reader, that I mean only the insignificant Party

Zealots on both sides; Men of such poor narrow Souls, that they are not

capable of thinking on any thing but with an Eye to Whig or Tory. During

the Course of this Paper, I have been accused by these despicable

Wretches of Trimming, Time-serving, Personal Reflection, secret Satire,

and the like. Now, tho' in these my Compositions, it is visible to any

Reader of Common Sense, that I consider nothing but my Subject, which is

always of an indifferent Nature; how is it possible for me to write so

clear of Party, as not to lie open to the Censures of those who will be

applying every Sentence, and finding out Persons and Things in it, which

it has no regard to?

Several Paltry Scriblers and Declaimers have done me the Honour to be

dull upon me in Reflections of this Nature; but notwithstanding my Name

has been sometimes traduced by this contemptible Tribe of Men, I have

hitherto avoided all Animadversions upon 'em. The Truth of it is, I am

afraid of making them appear considerable by taking Notice of them, for

they are like those imperceptible Insects which are discover'd by the

Microscope, and cannot be made the Subject of Observation without being

magnified.

Having mentioned those few who have shewn themselves the Enemies of this

Paper, I should be very ungrateful to the Publick, did not I at the same

time testifie my Gratitude to those who are its Friends, in which Number

I may reckon many of the most distinguished Persons of all Conditions,

Parties and Professions in the Isle of _Great-Britain_. I am not so vain

as to think this Approbation is so much due to the Performance as to the

Design. There is, and ever will be, Justice enough in the World, to

afford Patronage and Protection for those who endeavour to advance Truth

and Virtue, without regard to the Passions and Prejudices of any

particular Cause or Faction. If I have any other Merit in me, it is that

I have new-pointed all the Batteries of Ridicule. They have been

generally planted against Persons who have appeared Serious rather than

Absurd; or at best, have aimed rather at what is Unfashionable than what

is Vicious. For my own part, I have endeavoured to make nothing

Ridiculous that is not in some measure Criminal. I have set up the

Immoral Man as the Object of Derision: In short, if I have not formed a

new Weapon against Vice and Irreligion, I have at least shewn how that

Weapon may be put to a right Use, which has so often fought the Battels

of Impiety and Profaneness.

C.

[Footnote 1: The Stamp Act was to take effect from the first of August.

Censorship of the press began in the Church soon after the invention of

printing. The ecclesiastical superintendence introduced in 1479 and 1496

was more completely established by a bull of Leo X. in 1515, which

required Bishops and Inquisitors to examine all books before printing,

and suppress heretical opinions. The Church of Rome still adheres to the

'Index Librorum Prohibitorum' begun by the Council of Trent in 1546; and

there is an Index Expurgatorius for works partly prohibited, or to be

read after expurgation. In accordance with this principle, the licensing

of English books had been in the power of the Archbishop of Canterbury

and his delegates before the decree of the Star Chamber in 1637, which

ordered that all books of Divinity, Physic, Philosophy, and Poetry

should be licensed either by the Archbishop of Canterbury or by the

Bishop of London personally or through their appointed substitutes. The

object of this decree was to limit the reprint of old books of divinity,

&c. Thus Foxe's Book of Martyrs was denied a license. In 1640 Sir Edward

Dering complained to Parliament that 'the most learned labours of our

ancient and best divines must now be corrected and defaced with a

'deleatur' by the supercilious pen of my Lord's young chaplain, fit,

perhaps, for the technical arts, but unfit to hold the chair of

Divinity.' (Rushworth's Hist. Coll. iv. 55.) Historical works seem to

have been submitted to the Secretary of State for his sanction. To May's

poem of the 'Victorious Reign of King Edward the Third' is prefixed, 'I

have perused this Book, and conceive it very worthy to be published. Io.

Coke, Knight, Principal Secretary of State, Whitehall, 17 of November,

1634.' But Aleyn's metrical 'History of Henry VII.' (1638) is licensed

by the Bishop of London's domestic chaplain, who writes: 'Perlegi

historicum hoc poema, dignumque judico quod Typis mandetur. Tho. Wykes

R. P. Episc. Lond. Chapell. Domest.' The first newspaper had been 'the

Weekly Newes', first published May 23, 1622, at a time when, says Sir

Erskine May (in his 'Constitutional History of England', 1760-1860),

'political discussion was silenced by the licenser, the Star Chamber,

the dungeon, the pillory, mutilation, and branding.' The contest between

King and Commons afterwards developed the free controversial use of

tracts and newspapers, but the Parliament was not more tolerant than the

king, and against the narrow spirit of his time Milton rose to his

utmost height, fashioning after the masterpiece of an old Greek orator

who sought to stir the blood of the Athenians, his Areopagitica, or

Defence of the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing. In the reign of Charles

II. the Licensing Act (13 and 14 Charles II. cap. 33) placed the control

of printing in the Government, confined exercise of the printer's art to

London, York, and the Universities, and limited the number of the master

printers to twenty. Government established a monopoly of news in the

London Gazette. 'Authors and printers of obnoxious works,' says Sir E.

May, citing cases in notes, were hung, 'quartered, and mutilated,

exposed in the pillory and flogged, or fined and imprisoned, according

to the temper of their judges: their productions were burned by the

common hangman. Freedom of opinion was under interdict: even news could

not be published without license... James II. and his infamous judges

carried the Licensing Act into effect with barbarous severity. But the

Revolution brought indulgence even to the Jacobite Press; and when the

Commons, in 1695, refused to renew the Licensing Act, a censorship of

the press was for ever renounced by the law of England.' There remained,

however, a rigorous interpretation of the libel laws; Westminster Hall

accepting the traditions of the Star Chamber. Still there was enough

removal of restriction to ensure the multiplication of newspapers and

the blending of intelligence with free political discussion. In Queen

Anne's reign the virulence of party spirit produced bitter personal

attacks and willingness on either side to bring an antagonist under the

libel laws. At the date of this 'Spectator' paper Henry St. John, who

had been made Secretary of State at the age of 32, was 34 years old, and

the greatest commoner in England, as Swift said, turning the whole

Parliament, who can do nothing without him. This great position and the

future it might bring him he was throwing away for a title, and becoming

Viscount Bolingbroke. His last political act as a commoner was to impose

the halfpenny stamp upon newspapers and sheets like those of the

'Spectator.' Intolerant of criticism, he had in the preceding session

brought to the bar of the House of Commons, under his warrant as

Secretary of State, fourteen printers and publishers. In the beginning

of 1712, the Queen's message had complained that by seditious papers and

factious rumours designing men had been able to sink credit, and the

innocent had suffered. On the 12th of February a committee of the whole

house was appointed to consider how to stop the abuse of the liberty of

the press. Some were for a renewal of the Licensing Act, some for

requiring writers' names after their articles. The Government carried

its own design of a half-penny stamp by an Act (10 Anne, cap. 19) passed

on the 10th of June, which was to come in force on the 1st of August,

1712, and be in force for 32 years.

'Do you know,' wrote Swift to Stella five days after the date of this

'Spectator' paper, 'Do you know that all Grub street is dead and gone

last week? No more ghosts or murders now for love or money... Every

single half sheet pays a halfpenny to the Queen. The 'Observator' is

fallen; the 'Medleys' are jumbled together with the 'Flying Post;' the

'Examiner' is deadly sick; the 'Spectator' keeps up and doubles its

price; I know not how long it will last.'

It so happened that the mortality was greatest among Government papers.

The Act presently fell into abeyance, was revived in 1725, and

thenceforth maintained the taxation of newspapers until the abolition of

the Stamp in 1859. One of its immediate effects was a fall in the

circulation of the 'Spectator.' The paper remained unchanged, and some

of its subscribers seem to have resented the doubling of the tax upon

them, by charging readers an extra penny for each halfpenny with which

it had been taxed. (See No. 488.)]

* * * * *

No. 446. Friday, August 1, 1712. Addison.

'Quid deceat, quid non; quò Virtus, quò ferat Error.'

Hor.

Since two or three Writers of Comedy who are now living have taken their

Farewell of the Stage, those who succeed them finding themselves

incapable of rising up to their Wit, Humour and good Sense, have only

imitated them in some of those loose unguarded Strokes, in which they

complied with the corrupt Taste of the more Vicious Part of their

Audience. When Persons of a low Genius attempt this kind of Writing,

they know no difference between being Merry and being Lewd. It is with

an Eye to some of these degenerate Compositions that I have written the

following Discourse.

Were our _English_ Stage but half so virtuous as that of the _Greeks_ or

_Romans_, we should quickly see the Influence of it in the Behaviour of

all the Politer Part of Mankind. It would not be fashionable to ridicule

Religion, or its Professors; the Man of Pleasure would not be the

compleat Gentleman; Vanity would be out of Countenance, and every

Quality which is Ornamental to Human Nature, would meet with that Esteem

which is due to it.

If the _English_ Stage were under the same Regulations the _Athenian_

was formerly, it would have the same Effect that had, in recommending

the Religion, the Government, and Publick Worship of its Country. Were

our Plays subject to proper Inspections and Limitations, we might not

only pass away several of our vacant Hours in the highest

Entertainments; but should always rise from them wiser and better than

we sat down to them.

It is one of the most unaccountable things in our Age, that the Lewdness

of our Theatre should be so much complained of, so well exposed, and so

little redressed. It is to be hoped, that some time or other we may be

at leisure to restrain the Licentiousness of the Theatre, and make it

contribute its Assistance to the Advancement of Morality, and to the

Reformation of the Age. As Matters stand at present, Multitudes are shut

out from this noble Diversion, by reason of those Abuses and Corruptions

that accompany it. A Father is often afraid that his Daughter should be

ruin'd by those Entertainments, which were invented for the

Accomplishment and Refining of Human Nature. The _Athenian_ and _Roman_

Plays were written with such a Regard to Morality, that _Socrates_ used

to frequent the one, and _Cicero_ the other.

It happened once indeed, that Cato dropped into the _Roman_ Theatre,

when the _Floralia_ were to be represented; and as in that Performance,

which was a kind of Religious Ceremony, there were several indecent

Parts to be acted, the People refused to see them whilst _Cato_ was

present. _Martial_ on this Hint made the following Epigram, which we

must suppose was applied to some grave Friend of his, that had been

accidentally present at some such Entertainment.

'Nosces jocosæ dulce cum sacrum Floræ,

Festosque lusus, et licentiam vulgi,

Cur in Theatrum Cato severe venisti?

An ideo tantum veneras, ut exires?

Why dost thou come, great Censor of the Age,

To see the loose Diversions of the Stage?

With awful Countenance and Brow severe,

What in the Name of Goodness dost thou here?

See the mixt Crowd! how Giddy, Lewd and Vain!

Didst thou come in but to go out again?'

An Accident of this Nature might happen once in an Age among the

_Greeks_ or _Romans_; but they were too wise and good to let the

constant Nightly Entertainment be of such a Nature, that People of the

most Sense and Virtue could not be at it. Whatever Vices are represented

upon the Stage, they ought to be so marked and branded by the Poet, as

not to appear either laudable or amiable in the Person who is tainted

with them. But if we look into the _English_ Comedies above mentioned,

we would think they were formed upon a quite contrary Maxim, and that

this Rule, tho' it held good upon the Heathen Stage, was not be regarded

in Christian Theatres. There is another Rule likewise, which was

observed by Authors of Antiquity, and which these modern Genius's have

no regard to, and that was never to chuse an improper Subject for

Ridicule. Now a Subject is improper for Ridicule, if it is apt to stir

up Horrour and Commiseration rather than Laughter. For this Reason, we

do not find any Comedy in so polite an Author as _Terence_, raised upon

the Violations of the Marriage-Bed. The Falshood of the Wife or Husband

has given Occasion to noble Tragedies, but a _Scipio_ or a _Lelius_

would have look'd upon Incest or Murder to have been as proper Subjects

for Comedy. On the contrary, Cuckoldom is the Basis of most of our

Modern Plays. If an Alderman appears upon the Stage, you may be sure it

is in order to be Cuckolded. An Husband that is a little grave or

elderly, generally meets with the same Fate. Knights and Baronets,

Country Squires, and Justices of the _Quorum_, come up to Town for no

other Purpose. I have seen poor _Dogget_ Cuckolded in all these

Capacities. In short, our _English_ Writers are as frequently severe

upon this innocent unhappy Creature, commonly known by the Name of a

Cuckold, as the Ancient Comick Writers were upon an eating Parasite or a

vain-glorious Soldier.

At the same time the Poet so contrives Matters, that the two Criminals

are the Favourites of the Audience. We sit still, and wish well to them

through the whole Play, are pleased when they meet with proper

Opportunities, and out of humour when they are disappointed. The Truth

of it is, the accomplished Gentleman upon the _English Stage_, is the

Person that is familiar with other Men's Wives, and indifferent to his

own; as the fine Woman is generally a Composition of Sprightliness and

Falshood. I do not know whether it proceeds from Barrenness of

Invention, Depravation of Manners, or Ignorance of Mankind, but I have

often wondered that our ordinary Poets cannot frame to themselves the

Idea of a Fine Man who is not a Whore-master, or of a Fine Woman that is

not a Jilt.

I have sometimes thought of compiling a System of Ethics out of the

Writings of these corrupt Poets, under the Title of _Stage Morality_.

But I have been diverted from this Thought, by a Project which has been

executed by an ingenious Gentleman of my Acquaintance. He has compos'd,

it seems, the History of a young Fellow, who has taken all his Notions

of the World from the Stage, and who has directed himself in every

Circumstance of his Life and Conversation, by the Maxims and Examples of

the Fine Gentlemen in _English_ Comedies. If I can prevail upon him to

give me a Copy of this new-fashioned Novel, I will bestow on it a Place

in my Works, and question not but it may have as good an Effect upon the

Drama, as _Don Quixote_ had upon Romance.

C.

* * * * *

No. 447. Saturday, August 2, 1712. Addison.

[Greek:

Phaemì polychroníaen melétaen émmenai, phíle kaì dàe

Taútaen anthrôpoisi teleútôsan physin einai.]

There is not a Common Saying which has a better turn of Sense in it,

than what we often hear in the Mouths of the Vulgar, that Custom is a

second Nature. It is indeed able to form the Man anew, and to give him

Inclinations and Capacities altogether different from those he was born

with. Dr._ Plot_, in his History of _Staffordshire_, [1] tells us of an

Ideot that chancing to live within the Sound of a Clock, and always

amusing himself with counting the Hour of the Day whenever the Clock

struck, the Clock being spoiled by some Accident, the Ideot continued to

strike and count the Hour without the help of it, in the same manner as

he had done when it was entire. Though I dare not vouch for the Truth of

this Story, it is very certain that Custom has a Mechanical Effect upon

the Body, at the same time that it has a very extraordinary Influence

upon the Mind.

I shall in this Paper consider one very remarkable Effect which Custom

has upon Human Nature; and which, if rightly observed, may lead us into

very useful Rules of Life. What I shall here take notice of in Custom,

is its wonderful Efficacy in making every thing pleasant to us. A Person

who is addicted to Play or Gaming, though he took but little delight in

it at first, by degrees contracts so strong an Inclination towards it,

and gives himself up so entirely to it, that it seems the only End of

his Being. The Love of a retired or busie Life will grow upon a Man

insensibly, as he is conversant in the one or the other, till he is

utterly unqualified for relishing that to which he has been for some

time disused. Nay, a Man may Smoak, or Drink, or take Snuff, till he is

unable to pass away his Time without it; not to mention our Delight in

any particular Study, Art, or Science, rises and improves in Proportion

to the Application which we bestow upon it. Thus what was at first an

Exercise, becomes at length an Entertainment. Our Employments are

changed into our Diversions. The Mind grows fond of those Actions she is

accustomed to, and is drawn with Reluctancy from those Paths in which

she has been used to walk.

Not only such Actions as were at first Indifferent to us, but even such

as were Painful, will by Custom and Practice become pleasant. Sir

_Francis Bacon_ observes in his Natural Philosophy, that our Taste is

never pleased better, than with those things which at first created a

Disgust in it. He gives particular Instances of Claret, Coffee, and

other Liquors, which the palate seldom approves upon the first Taste;

but when it has once got a Relish of them, generally retains it for

Life. The Mind is constituted after the same manner, and after having

habituated her self to any particular Exercise or Employment, not only

loses her first Aversion towards it, but conceives a certain Fondness

and Affection for it. I have heard one of the greatest Genius's this Age

has produced, [2] who had been trained up in all the Polite Studies of

Antiquity assure me, upon his being obliged to search into several Rolls

and Records, that notwithstanding such an Employment was at first very

dry and irksome to him, he at last took an incredible Pleasure in it,

and preferred it even to the reading of _Virgil_ or _Cicero_. The Reader

will observe, that I have not here considered Custom as it makes things

easie, but as it renders them delightful; and though others have often

made the same Reflections, it is possible they may not have drawn those

Uses from it, with which I intend to fill the remaining Part of this

Paper.

If we consider attentively this Property of Human Nature, it may

instruct us in very fine Moralities. In the first place, I would have no

Man discouraged with that kind of Life or Series of Action, in which the

Choice of others, or his own Necessities, may have engaged him. It may

perhaps be very disagreeable to him at first; but Use and Application

will certainly render it not only less painful, but pleasing and

satisfactory.

In the second place I would recommend to every one that admirable

Precept which _Pythagoras_ [3] is said to have given to his Disciples,

and which that Philosopher must have drawn from the Observation I have

enlarged upon. _Optimum vitæ genus eligito, nam consuetudo faciet

jucundissimum_, Pitch upon that Course of Life which is the most

Excellent, and Custom will render it the most Delightful. Men, whose

Circumstances will permit them to chuse their own Way of Life, are

inexcusable if they do not pursue that which their Judgment tells them

is the most laudable. The Voice of Reason is more to be regarded than

the Bent of any present Inclination, since by the Rule above mentioned,

Inclination will at length come over to Reason, though we can never

force Reason to comply with Inclination.

In the third place, this Observation may teach the most sensual and

irreligious Man, to overlook those Hardships and Difficulties which are

apt to discourage him from the Prosecution of a Virtuous Life. _The

Gods_, said _Hesiod_, [4] _have placed Labour before Virtue, the Way to

her is at first rough and difficult, but grows more smooth and easier

the further you advance in it_. The Man who proceeds in it, with

Steadiness and Resolution, will in a little time find that _her Ways are

Ways of Pleasantness, and that all her Paths are Peace_.

To enforce this Consideration, we may further observe that the Practice

of Religion will not only be attended with that Pleasure, which

naturally accompanies those Actions to which we are habituated, but with

those Supernumerary Joys of Heart, that rise from the Consciousness of

such a Pleasure, from the Satisfaction of acting up to the Dictates of

Reason, and from the Prospect of an happy Immortality.

In the fourth place, we may learn from this Observation which we have

made on the Mind of Man, to take particular Care, when we are once

settled in a regular Course of Life, how we too frequently indulge our

selves in any of the most innocent Diversions and Entertainments, since

the Mind may insensibly fall off from the Relish of virtuous Actions,

and, by degrees, exchange that Pleasure which it takes in the

Performance of its Duty, for Delights of a much more inferior and

unprofitable Nature.

The last Use which I shall make of this remarkable Property in Human

Nature, of being delighted with those Actions to which it is accustomed,

is to shew how absolutely necessary it is for us to gain Habits of

Virtue in this Life, if we would enjoy the Pleasures of the next. The

State of Bliss we call Heaven will not be capable of affecting those

Minds, which are not thus qualified for it; we must, in this World, gain

a Relish of Truth and Virtue, if we would be able to taste that

Knowledge and Perfection, which are to make us happy in the next. The

Seeds of those spiritual Joys and Raptures, which are to rise up and

Flourish in the Soul to all Eternity, must be planted in her, during

this her present State of Probation. In short, Heaven is not to be

looked upon only as the Reward, but as the natural Effect of a religious

Life.

On the other hand, those evil Spirits, who, by long Custom, have

contracted in the Body Habits of Lust and Sensuality, Malice and

Revenge, an Aversion to every thing that is good, just or laudable, are

naturally seasoned and prepared for Pain and Misery. Their Torments have

already taken root in them, they cannot be happy when divested of the

Body, unless we may suppose, that Providence will, in a manner, create

them anew, and work a Miracle in the Rectification of their Faculties.

They may, indeed, taste a kind of malignant Pleasure in those Actions to

which they are accustomed, whilst in this Life; but when they are

removed from all those Objects which are here apt to gratifie them, they

will naturally become their own Tormentors, and cherish in themselves

those painful Habits of Mind, which are called, [in [5]] Scripture

Phrase, the Worm which never dies. This Notion of Heaven and Hell is so

very conformable to the Light of Nature, that it was discovered by

several of the most exalted Heathens. It has been finely improved by

many Eminent Divines of the last Age, as in particular by Arch-Bishop

_Tillotson_ and Dr. _Sherlock_, but there is none who has raised such

noble Speculations upon it as Dr. _Scott_ [6] in the First Book of his

Christian Life, which is one of the finest and most rational Schemes of

Divinity, that is written in our Tongue, or in any other. That Excellent

Author has shewn how every particular Custom and Habit of Virtue will,

in its own Nature, produce the Heaven, or a State of Happiness, in him

who shall hereafter practise it: As on the contrary, how every Custom or

Habit of Vice will be the natural Hell of him in whom it subsists.

C.

[Footnote 1: Natural History of Staffordshire, by Robert Plot, L.L.D.,

fol. 1686. Dr. Plot wrote also a Natural History of Oxfordshire, and was

a naturalist of mark, one of the Secretaries of the Royal Society, First

Keeper of the Ashmolean Museum, Historiographer Royal, and Archivist of

the Herald's Office. He died in 1696, aged 55.]

[Footnote 2: Dr. Atterbury]

[Footnote 3: Diogenes Laertius, Bk. viii.]

[Footnote 4:

The paths of Virtue must be reached by toil,

Arduous and long, and on a rugged soil,

Thorny the gate, but when the top you gain,

Fair is the future and the prospect plain.

_Works and Days_, Bk. i. (_Cooke's Translation_).]

[Footnote 5: [in the]]

[Footnote 6: John Scott, a young tradesman of Chippenham, Wilts.,

prevailed on his friends to send him to Oxford, and became D. D. in

1685. He was minister of St. Thomas's, Southwark, Rector of St. Giles in

the Fields, Prebendary of St. Paul's, Canon of Windsor, and refused a

Bishopric. He was a strong opponent of the Catholics, and his 'Christian

Life,' in folio, and 5 vols. 8vo, became very popular. He died in 1694.]

* * * * *

No. 448. Monday, August 4, 1712. Steele.

'Foedius hoc aliquid quandoque audebis.'

Juv.

The first Steps towards Ill are very carefully to be avoided, for Men

insensibly go on when they are once entered, and do not keep up a lively

Abhorrence of the least Unworthiness. There is a certain frivolous

Falshood that People indulge themselves in, which ought to be had in

greater Detestation than it commonly meets with: What I mean is a

Neglect of Promises made on small and indifferent Occasions, such as

Parties of Pleasure, Entertainments, and sometimes Meetings out of

Curiosity in Men of like Faculties to be in each other's Company. There

are many Causes to which one may assign this light Infidelity. _Jack

Sippet_ never keeps the Hour he has appointed to come to a Friend's to

Dinner; but he is an insignificant Fellow who does it out of Vanity. He

could never, he knows, make any Figure in Company, but by giving a

little Disturbance at his Entry, and therefore takes Care to drop in

when he thinks you are just seated. He takes his Place after having

discomposed every Body, and desires there may be no Ceremony; then does

he begin to call himself the saddest Fellow, in disappointing so many

Places as he was invited to elsewhere. It is the Fop's Vanity to name

Houses of better Chear, and to acquaint you that he chose yours out of

ten Dinners which he was obliged to be at that Day. The last Time I had

the Fortune to eat with him, he was imagining how very fat he should

have been had he eaten all he had ever been invited to. But it is

impertinent to dwell upon the Manners of such a Wretch as obliges all

whom he disappoints, though his Circumstances constrain them to be civil

to him. But there are those that every one would be glad to see, who

fall into the same detestable Habit. It is a merciless thing that any

one can be at Ease, and suppose a Set of People who have a Kindness for

him, at that Moment waiting out of Respect to him, and refusing to taste

their Food or Conversation with the utmost Impatience. One of these

Promisers sometimes shall make his Excuses for not coming at all, so

late that half the Company have only to lament, that they have neglected

Matters of Moment to meet him whom they find a Trifler. They immediately

repent of the Value they had for him; and such Treatment repeated, makes

Company never depend upon his Promise any more; so that he often comes

at the Middle of a Meal, where he is secretly slighted by the Persons

with whom he eats, and cursed by the Servants, whose Dinner is delayed

by his prolonging their Master's Entertainment. It is wonderful, that

Men guilty this Way, could never have observed, that the whiling Time,

the gathering together, and waiting a little before Dinner, is the most

awkwardly passed away of any Part in the four and twenty Hours. If they

did think at all, they would reflect upon their Guilt, in lengthning

such a Suspension of agreeable Life. The constant offending this Way,

has, in a Degree, an Effect upon the Honesty of his Mind who is guilty

of it, as common Swearing is a kind of habitual Perjury: It makes the

Soul unattentive to what an Oath is, even while it utters it at the

Lips. _Phocion_ beholding a wordy Orator while he was making a

magnificent Speech to the People full of vain Promises, _Methinks_, said

he, _I am now fixing my Eyes upon a Cypress Tree, it has all the Pomp

and Beauty imaginable in its Branches, Leaves, and Height, but alas it

bears no Fruit_.

Though the Expectation which is raised by impertinent Promisers is thus

barren, their Confidence, even after Failures, is so great, that they

subsist by still promising on. I have heretofore discoursed of the

insignificant Liar, the Boaster, and the Castle-Builder, and treated

them as no ill-designing Men, (tho' they are to be placed among the

frivolously false ones) but Persons who fall into that Way purely to

recommend themselves by their Vivacities; but indeed I cannot let

heedless Promisers, though in the most minute Circumstances, pass with

so slight a Censure. If a Man should take a Resolution to pay only Sums

above an hundred Pounds, and yet contract with different People Debts of

five and ten, how long can we suppose he will keep his Credit? This Man

will as long support his good Name in Business, as he will in

Conversation, who without Difficulty makes Assignations which he is

indifferent whether he keeps or not.

I am the more severe upon this Vice, because I have been so unfortunate

as to be a very great Criminal my self. Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, and all

other my Friends who are scrupulous to Promises of the meanest

Consideration imaginable from an Habit of Virtue that way, have often

upbraided me with it. I take Shame upon my self for this Crime, and more

particularly for the greatest I ever committed of the Sort, that when as

agreeable a Company of Gentlemen and Ladies as ever were got together,

and I forsooth, Mr. SPECTATOR, to be of the Party with Women of Merit,

like a Booby as I was, mistook the time of Meeting, and came the Night

following. I wish every Fool who is negligent in this Kind, may have as

great a Loss as I had in this; for the same Company will never meet

more, but are dispersed into various Parts of the World, and I am left

under the Compunction that I deserve, in so many different Places to be

called a Trifler.

This Fault is sometimes to be accounted for, when desirable People are

fearful of appearing precious and reserved by Denials; but they will

find the Apprehension of that Imputation will betray them into a

childish Impotence of Mind, and make them promise all who are so kind to

ask it of them. This leads such soft Creatures into the Misfortune of

seeming to return Overtures of Good-will with Ingratitude. The first

Steps in the Breach of a Man's Integrity are much more important than

Men are aware of. The Man who scruples breaking his Word in little

Things would not suffer in his own Conscience so great Pain for Failures

of Consequence, as he who thinks every little Offence against Truth and

Justice a Disparagement. We should not make any thing we our selves

disapprove habitual to us, if we would be sure of our Integrity.

I remember a Falshood of the trivial Sort, tho' not in relation to

Assignations, that exposed a Man to a very uneasie Adventure. _Will.

Trap_ and _Jack Stint_ were Chamber-fellows in the _Inner-Temple_ about

25 Years ago. They one Night sate in the Pit together at a Comedy, where

they both observed and liked the same young Woman in the Boxes. Their

Kindness for her entered both Hearts deeper than they imagined. _Stint_

had a good Faculty at writing Letters of Love, and made his Address

privately that way; while _Trap_ proceeded in the ordinary Course, by

Money and her Waiting-Maid. The Lady gave them both Encouragement,

receiving _Trap_ into the utmost Favour, and answering at the same time

_Stint's_ Letters, and giving him appointments at third Places. _Trap_

began to suspect the Epistolary Correspondence of his Friend, and

discovered also that _Stint_ opened all his Letters which came to their

common Lodgings, in order to form his own Assignations. After much

Anxiety and Restlessness, _Trap_ came to a Resolution, which he thought

would break off their Commerce with one another without any hazardous

Explanation. He therefore writ a Letter in a feigned Hand to Mr. _Trap_

at his Chambers in the _Temple_. _Stint_, according to Custom, seized

and opened it, and was not a little surpriz'd to find the Inside

directed to himself, when, with great Perturbation of Spirit, he read as

follows.

Mr. _Stint_,

You have gained a slight Satisfaction at the Expence of doing a very

heinous Crime. At the Price of a faithful Friend you have obtained an

inconstant Mistress. I rejoice in this Expedient I have thought of to

break my Mind to you, and tell you, You are a base Fellow, by a Means

which does not expose you to the Affront except you deserve it. I

know, Sir, as criminal as you are, you have still Shame enough to

avenge yourself against the Hardiness of any one that should publickly

tell you of it. I therefore, who have received so many secret Hurts

from you, shall take Satisfaction with Safety to my self. I call you

Base, and you must bear it, or acknowledge it; I triumph over you that

you cannot come at me; nor do I think it dishonourable to come in

Armour to assault him, who was in Ambuscade when he wounded me.

What need more be said to convince you of being guilty of the basest

Practice imaginable, than that it is such as has made you liable to be

treated after this Manner, while you your self cannot in your own

Conscience but allow the Justice of the Upbraidings of _Your Injured

Friend_,

Ralph Trap.

T.

* * * * *

No. 449. Tuesday, August 5, 1712. Steele

'--Tibi scriptus, Matrona, libellus--'

Mart.

When I reflect upon my Labours for the Publick, I cannot but observe,

that Part of the Species, of which I profess my self a Friend and

Guardian, is sometimes treated with Severity; that is, there are in my

Writings many Descriptions given of ill Persons, and not yet any direct

Encomium made of those who are good. When I was convinced of this Error,

I could not but immediately call to Mind several of the Fair Sex of my

Acquaintance, whose Characters deserve to be transmitted to Posterity in

Writings which will long outlive mine. But I do not think that a Reason

why I should not give them their Place in my Diurnal as long as it will

last. For the Service therefore of my Female Readers, I shall single out

some Characters of Maids, Wives and Widows, which deserve the Imitation

of the Sex. She who shall lead this small illustrious Number of Heroines

shall be the amiable _Fidelia_.

Before I enter upon the particular Parts of her Character, it is

necessary to Preface, that she is the only Child of a decrepid Father,

whose Life is bound up in hers. This Gentleman has used _Fidelia_ from

her Cradle with all the Tenderness imaginable, and has view'd her

growing Perfections with the Partiality of a Parent, that soon thought

her accomplished above the Children of all other Men, but never thought

she was come to the utmost Improvement of which she her self was

capable. This Fondness has had very happy Effects upon his own

Happiness, for she reads, she dances, she sings, uses her Spinet and

Lute to the utmost Perfection: And the Lady's Use of all these

Excellencies, is to divert the old Man in his easie Chair, when he is

out of the Pangs of a Chronical Distemper. _Fidelia_ is now in the

twenty third Year of her Age; but the Application of many Lovers, her

vigorous time of Life, her quick Sense of all that is truly gallant and

elegant in the Enjoyment of a plentiful Fortune, are not able to draw

her from the Side of her good old Father. Certain it is, that there is

no kind of Affection so pure and angelick as that of a Father to a

Daughter. He beholds her both with, and without Regard to her Sex. In

Love to our Wives there is Desire, to our Sons there is Ambition; but in

that to our Daughters, there is something which there are no Words to

express. Her Life is designed wholly Domestick, and she is so ready a

Friend and Companion, that every thing that passes about a Man, is

accompanied with the Idea of her Presence. Her Sex also is naturally so

much exposed to Hazard, both as to Fortune and Innocence, that there is,

perhaps, a new Cause of Fondness arising from that Consideration also.

None but Fathers can have a true Sense of these sort of Pleasures and

Sensations; but my Familiarity with the Father of _Fidelia_, makes me

let drop the Words which I have heard him speak, and observe upon his

Tenderness towards her.