Quicquid agunt homines ... nostri farrago libelli.
JUV., Sat. i. 85, 86.
* * * * *
White's Chocolate-house, August 1.
The imposition of honest names and words upon improper subjects, has
made so regular a confusion amongst us, that we are apt to sit down with
our errors, well enough satisfied with the methods we are fallen into,
without attempting to deliver ourselves from the tyranny under which we
are reduced by such innovations. Of all the laudable motives of human
life, none has suffered so much in this kind as love; under which
revered name, a brutal desire called lust is frequently concealed and
admitted; though they differ as much as a matron from a prostitute, or a
companion from a buffoon. Philander[463] the other day was bewailing
this misfortune with much indignation, and upbraided me for having some
time since quoted those excellent lines of the satirist:
_To an exact perfection they have brought
The action love, the passion is forgot._[464]
"How could you," said he, "leave such a hint so coldly? How could
Aspasia[465] and Sempronia[466] enter into your imagination at the same
time, and you never declare to us the different reception you gave them?
The figures which the ancient mythologists and poets put upon love and
lust in their writings, are very instructive. Love is a beauteous blind
child, adorned with a quiver and a bow, which he plays with, and shoots
around him, without design or direction; to intimate to us, that the
person beloved has no intention to give us the anxieties we meet with;
but that the beauties of a worthy object are like the charms of a lovely
infant: they cannot but attract your concern and fondness, though the
child so regarded is as insensible of the value you put upon it, as it
is that it deserves your benevolence. On the other side, the sages
figured Lust in the form of a satyr; of shape, part human, part bestial;
to signify, that the followers of it prostitute the reason of a man to
pursue the appetites of a beast. This satyr is made to haunt the paths
and coverts of the wood-nymphs and shepherdesses, to lurk on the banks
of rivulets, and watch the purling streams (as the resorts of retired
virgins), to show, that lawless desire tends chiefly to prey upon
innocence, and has something so unnatural in it, that it hates its own
make, and shuns the object it loved, as soon as it has made it like
itself. Love therefore is a child that complains and bewails its
inability to help itself, and weeps for assistance, without an immediate
reflection of knowledge of the food it wants: Lust, a watchful thief
which seizes its prey, and lays snares for its own relief; and its
principal object being innocence, it never robs, but it murders at the
same time. From this idea of a Cupid and a Satyr, we may settle our
notion of these different desires, and accordingly rank their followers.
Aspasia must therefore be allowed to be the first of the beauteous Order
of Love, whose unaffected freedom, and conscious innocence, give her the
attendance of the graces in all her actions. That awful distance which
we bear towards her in all our thoughts of her, and that cheerful
familiarity with which we approach her, are certain instances of her
being the truest object of love of any of her sex. In this accomplished
lady, love is the constant effect, because it is never the design. Yet,
though her mien carries much more invitation than command, to behold her
is an immediate check to loose behaviour; and to love her is a liberal
education:[467] for, it being the nature of all love to create an
imitation of the beloved person in the lover, a regard for Aspasia
naturally produces decency of manners, and good conduct of life in her
admirers. If therefore the giggling Lucippe could but see her train of
fops assembled, and Aspasia move by them, she would be mortified at the
veneration with which she is beheld, even by Lucippe's own unthinking
equipage, whose passions have long taken leave of their understandings.
But as charity is esteemed a conjunction of the good qualities necessary
to a virtuous man, so love is the happy composition of all the
accomplishments that make a fine gentleman. The motive of a man's life
is seen in all his actions; and such as have the beauteous boy for their
inspirer have a simplicity of behaviour, and a certain evenness of
desire, which burns like the lamp of life in their bosoms; while they
who are instigated by the satyr are ever tortured by jealousies of the
object of their wishes; often desire what they scorn, and as often
consciously and knowingly embrace where they are mutually indifferent.
Florio, the generous husband, and Limberham, the "kind keeper,"[468] are
noted examples of the different effects which these desires produce in
the mind. Amanda, who is the wife of Florio, lives in the continual
enjoyment of new instances of her husband's friendship, and sees it the
end of all his ambition to make her life one series of pleasure and
satisfaction; and Amanda's relish of the goods of life, is all that
makes them pleasing to Florio: they behave themselves to each other when
present with a certain apparent benevolence, which transports above
rapture; and they think of each other in absence with a confidence
unknown to the highest friendship: their satisfactions are doubled,
their sorrows lessened by participation. On the other hand, Corinna, who
is the mistress of Limberham,[469] lives in constant torment: her
equipage is, an old woman, who was what Corinna is now; an antiquated
footman, who was pimp to Limberham's father; and a chambermaid, who is
Limberham's wench by fits, out of a principle of politics to make her
jealous and watchful of Corinna. Under this guard, and in this
conversation, Corinna lives in state: the furniture of her habitation,
and her own gorgeous dress, make her the envy of all the strolling
ladies in the town; but Corinna knows she herself is but part of
Limberham's household stuff, and is as capable of being disposed of
elsewhere, as any other movable. But while her keeper is persuaded by
his spies, that no enemy has been within his doors since his last visit,
no Persian prince was ever so magnificently bountiful: a kind look or
falling tear is worth a piece of brocade, a sigh is a jewel, and a smile
is a cupboard of plate. All this is shared between Corinna and her guard
in his absence. With this great economy and industry does the unhappy
Limberham purchase the constant tortures of jealousy, the favour of
spending his estate, and the opportunity of enriching one by whom he
knows he is hated and despised. These are the ordinary and common evils
which attend keepers, and Corinna is a wench but of common size of
wickedness. Were you to know what passes under the roof where the fair
Messalina reigns with her humble adorer! Messalina is the professed
mistress of mankind; she has left the bed of her husband and her
beauteous offspring, to give a loose to want of shame and fulness of
desire. Wretched Nocturnus, her feeble keeper! How the poor creature
fribbles in his gait, and scuttles from place to place to despatch his
necessary affairs in painful daylight, that he may return to the
constant twilight preserved in that scene of wantonness, Messalina's
bedchamber. How does he, while he is absent from thence, consider in his
imagination the breadth of his porter's shoulders, the spruce nightcap
of his valet, the ready attendance of his butler! Any of all whom he
knows she admits, and professes to approve of. This, alas! is the
gallantry; this the freedom of our fine gentlemen: for this they
preserve their liberty, and keep clear of that bugbear, marriage. But he
does not understand either vice or virtue, who will not allow, that life
without the rules of morality is a wayward uneasy being, with snatches
only of pleasure; but under the regulation of virtue, a reasonable and
uniform habit of enjoyment. I have seen in a play of old Heywood's, a
speech at the end of an act, which touched this point with much spirit.
He makes a married man in the play, upon some endearing occasion, look
at his spouse with an air of fondness, and fall into the following
reflection on his condition:
"_O Marriage! happiest, easiest, safest state;
Let debauchees and drunkards scorn thy rights,
Who, in their nauseous draughts and lusts, profane
Both thee and Heaven by whom thou wert ordained.
How can the savage call it loss of freedom,
Thus to converse with, thus to gaze at
A faithful, beauteous friend?
Blush not, my fair one, that thy love applauds thee,
Nor be it painful to my wedded wife,
That my full heart overflows in praise of thee.
Thou art by law, by interest, passion, mine:
Passion and reason join in love of thee.
Thus, through a world of calumny and fraud,
We pass both unreproached, both undeceived;
While in each other's interest and happiness,
We without art all faculties employ,
And all our senses without guilt enjoy_."
St. James's Coffee-house August 1.
Letters from the Hague of the 6th instant, N.S., say, that there daily
arrive at our camp deserters in considerable numbers; and that several
of the enemy concealed themselves in the town of Tournay when the
garrison marched into the citadel; after which, they presented
themselves to the Duke of Marlborough; some of whom were commissioned
officers. The Earl of Albemarle is appointed governor of the town. Soon
after the surrender, there arose a dispute about a considerable work,
which was asserted by the Allies to be part of the town, and by the
French to belong to the citadel. It is said, Monsieur de Surville was so
ingenious as to declare, he thought it to be comprehended within the
limits of the town; but Monsieur de Mesgrigny, governor of the citadel,
was of a contrary opinion. It is reported, that this affair occasioned
great difficulties, which ended in a capitulation for the citadel
itself; the principal article of which is, that it shall be surrendered
on the 5th of September next, in case they are not in the meantime
relieved. This circumstance gives foundation to believe, that the enemy
have acted in this manner, rather from some hopes they conceive of a
treaty of peace before that time, than any expectation from their army,
which has retired towards their former works between Lens and La Bassée.
These advices add, that his Excellency the Czarish Ambassador has
communicated to the States-General, and the foreign Ministers residing
at the Hague, a copy of a letter from his master's camp, which gives an
account of the entire defeat of the Swedish army. They further say, that
Count Piper is taken prisoner, and that it is doubted whether the King
of Sweden himself was not killed in the action. We hear from Savoy, that
Count Thaun having amused the enemy by a march as far as the Tarantaise,
had suddenly repassed Mount Cenis, and moved towards Briançon. This
unexpected disposition is apprehended by the enemy as a piece of the
Duke of Savoy's dexterity; and the French adding this circumstance to
that of the Confederate squadron's lying before Toulon, convince
themselves, that his royal highness has his thoughts upon the execution
of some great design in those parts.
[Footnote 463: See No. 13.]
[Footnote 464: See No. 5.]
[Footnote 465: Lady Elizabeth Hastings (see No. 42).]
[Footnote 466: See No. 33.]
[Footnote 467: In the _Spectator_ for March 29, 1884, Mr. Swinburne
published a letter saying that Steele was not the author of these famous
words,--"the most exquisite tribute ever paid to the memory of a noble
woman"; for the article in No. 42 was by Congreve. But Mr. Justin
McCarthy afterwards pointed out that these words occur in No. 49, not
No. 42; and whether or no Congreve wrote the paper in No. 42 which is at
least doubtful--the article in No. 49 is certainly Steele's.]
[Footnote 468: The title of one of Dryden's plays.]
[Footnote 469: Henry Cromwell and Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas. See No. 47.]