manner. 'This man' (pointing to him I looked at) 'I take to be the
honour of our house, Sir HUMPHREY DE COVERLEY; he was in his dealings as
punctual as a tradesman, and as generous as a gentleman. He would have
thought himself as much undone by breaking his word, as if it were to be
followed by bankruptcy. He served his country as knight of this shire to
his dying day. He found it no easy matter to maintain an integrity in
his words and actions, even in things that regarded the offices which
were incumbent upon him, in the care of his own affairs and relations of
life, and therefore dreaded (though he had great talents) to go into
employments of state, where he must be exposed to the snares of
ambition. Innocence of life and great ability were the distinguishing
parts of his character; the latter, he had often observed, had led to
the destruction of the former, and used frequently to lament that great
and good had not the same signification. He was an excellent husbandman,
but had resolved not to exceed such a degree of wealth; all above it he
bestowed in secret bounties many years after the sum he aimed at for his
own use was attained. Yet he did not slacken his industry, but to a
decent old age spent the life and fortune which was superfluous to
himself, in the service of his friends and neighbours.'
Here we were called to dinner, and Sir ROGER ended the discourse of this
gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the servant, that this his
ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly escaped being killed in the civil
wars: 'For, said he, he was sent out of the field upon a private
message, the day before the battle of _Worcester_.' The whim of
narrowly escaping by having been within a day of danger, with other
matters above-mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss
whether I was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity. R.
No. 110. FRIDAY, JULY 6.
_Horror ubique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent._
VIRG. AEn. ii. v. 755.
All things are full of horror and affright,
And dreadful ev'n the silence of the night.
DRYDEN.
At a little distance from Sir ROGER'S house, among the ruins of an old
abbey, there is a long walk of aged elms; which are shot up so very
high, that when one passes under them, the rooks and crows that rest
upon the tops of them seem to be cawing in another region. I am very
much delighted with this sort of noise, which I consider as a kind of
natural prayer to that Being who supplies the wants of his whole
creation, and who, in the beautiful language of the _Psalms>_,
feedeth the young ravens that call upon him. I like this retirement the
better, because of an ill report it lies under of being _haunted;_
for which reason (as I have been told in the family) no living creature
ever walks in it besides the chaplain. My good friend the butler desired
me with a very grave face not to venture myself in it after sun-set, for
that one of the footmen had been almost frighted out of his wits by a
spirit that appeared to him in the shape of a black horse without an
head; to which he added, that about a month ago one of the maids coming
home late that way with a pail of milk upon her head, heard such a
rustling among the bushes that she let it fall.
I was taking a walk in this place last night between the hours of nine
and ten, and could not but fancy it one of the most proper scenes in the
world for a ghost to appear in. The ruins of the abbey are scattered up
and down on every side, and half-covered with ivy and elder bushes, the
harbours of several solitary birds, which seldom make their appearance
till the dusk of the evening. The place was formerly a church-yard, and
has still several marks in it of graves and burying-places. There is
such an echo among the old ruins and vaults, that if you stamp but a
little louder than ordinary, you hear the sound repeated. At the same
time the walk of elms, with the croaking of the ravens which from time
to time are heard from the tops of them, looks exceeding solemn and
venerable. These objects naturally raise seriousness and attention; and
when night heightens the awfulness of the place, and pours out her
supernumerary horrors upon every thing in it, I do not at all wonder
that weak minds fill it with spectres and apparitions.
Mr. _Locke_, in his chapter of the Association of Ideas, has very
curious remarks to show how, by the prejudice of education, one idea
often introduces into the mind a whole set that bear no resemblance to
one another in the nature of things. Among several examples of this
kind, he produces the following instance. _The ideas of goblins and
sprights have really no more to do with darkness than light: Yet let but
a foolish maid inculcate these often on the mind of a child, and raise
them there together, possibly he shall never be able to separate them
again so long as he lives; but darkness shall ever afterwards bring with
it those frightful ideas, and they shall be so joined, that he can no
more bear the one than the other._
As I was walking in this solitude, where the dusk of the evening
conspired with so many other occasions of terror, I observed a cow
grazing not far from me, which an imagination that was apt to
_startle_ might easily have construed into a black horse without an
head: And I dare say the poor footman lost his wits upon some such
trivial occasion.
My friend Sir ROGER has often told me with a good deal of mirth, that at
his first coming to his estate he found three parts of his house
altogether useless; that the best room in it had the reputation of being
haunted, and by that means was locked up; that noises had been heard in
his long gallery, so that he could not get a servant to enter it after
eight o'clock at night; that the door of one of the chambers was nailed
up, because there went a story in the family that a butler had formerly
hanged himself in it; and that his mother, who lived to a great age, had
shut up half the rooms in the house, in which either her husband, a son,
or daughter had died. The Knight seeing his habitation reduced to so
small a compass, and himself in a manner shut out of his own house, upon
the death of his mother ordered all the apartments to be flung open, and
_exorcised_ by his chaplain, who lay in every room one after
another, and by that means dissipated the fears which had so long
reigned in the family.
I should not have been thus particular upon these ridiculous horrors,
did not I find them so very much prevail in all parts of the country. At
the same time I think a person who is thus terrified with the
imagination of ghosts and spectres, much more reasonable than one who,
contrary to the reports of all historians sacred and profane, ancient
and modern, and to the traditions of all nations, thinks the appearance
of spirits fabulous and groundless: Could not I give myself up to this
general testimony of mankind, I should to the relations of particular
persons who are now living, and whom I cannot distrust in other matters
of fact. I might here add, that not only the historians, to whom we may
join the poets, but likewise the philosophers of antiquity have favoured
this opinion. _Lucretius_ himself, though by the course of his
philosophy he was obliged to maintain that the soul did not exist
separate from the body, makes no doubt of the reality of apparitions,
and that men have often appeared after their death. This I think very
remarkable. He was so pressed with the matter of fact which he could not
have the confidence to deny, that he was forced to account for it by one
of the most absurd unphilosophical notions that was ever started. He
tells us, That the surfaces of all bodies are perpetually flying off
from their respective bodies, one after another; and that these surfaces
or thin cases, that included each other whilst they were joined in the
body like the coats of an onion, are sometimes seen entire when they are
separated from it; by which means we often behold the shapes and shadows
of persons who are either dead or absent.
I shall dismiss this paper with a story out of _Josephus_, not so
much for the sake of the story itself as for the moral reflexions with
which the author concludes it, and which I shall here set down in his
own words. '_Glaphyra_ the daughter of King _Archelaus_, after
the death of her two first husbands (being married to a third, who was
brother to her first husband, and so passionately in love with her that
he turned off his former wife to make room for this marriage) had a very
odd kind of dream. She fancied that she saw her first husband coming
towards her, and that she embraced him with great tenderness; when in
the midst of the pleasure which she expressed at the sight of him, he
reproached her after the following manner: _Glaphyra_, says he,
thou hast made good the old saying, That women are not to be trusted.
Was not I the husband of thy virginity? Have I not children by thee? How
couldst thou forget our loves so far as to enter into a second marriage,
and after that into a third, nay to take for thy husband a man who has
so shamefully crept into the bed of his brother? However, for the sake
of our passed loves, I shall free thee from thy present reproach, and
make thee mine for ever. Glaphyra told this dream to several women of
her acquaintance, and died soon after. I thought this story might not be
impertinent in this place, wherein I speak of those kings: Besides that
the example deserves to be taken notice of, as it contains a most
certain proof of the immortality of the soul, and of Divine Providence.
If any man thinks these facts incredible, let him enjoy his own opinion
to himself, but let him not endeavour to disturb the belief of others,
who by instances of this nature are excited to the study of virtue.'
No. 112. MONDAY, JULY 9.
_Athanatous men prota theous,
nomo hos diakeitai, tima._
PYTHAG.
First, in obedience to thy country's rites,
Worship the immortal Gods.
I am always very well pleased with a country _Sunday_, and think,
if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would
be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and
civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon
degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such
frequent returns of a stated time, in which the whole village meet
together with their best faces, and in their cleanliest habits, to
converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear their duties
explained to them, and join together in adoration of the Supreme Being.
_Sunday_ clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it
refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both
the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, and exerting all
such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the
village. A country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the
_Church-yard_, as a citizen does upon the _Change_, the whole
parish-politicks being generally discussed in that place, either after
sermon or before the bell rings.
My friend Sir ROGER, being a good churchman, has beautified the inside
of his church with several texts of his own chusing: He has likewise
given a handsome pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion-table at his
own expence. He has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he
found his parishioners very irregular; and that, in order to make them
kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them a hassock and
a common-prayer-book; and at the same time employed an itinerant
singing-master, who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct
them rightly in the tunes of the psalms; upon which they now very much
value themselves, and indeed out-do most of the country churches that I
have ever heard.
As Sir ROGER is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in
very good order, and will suffer no body to sleep in it besides himself;
for, if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon
recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees
any body else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants
to them. Several other of the old Knight's particularities break out
upon these occasions:
Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing psalms, half
a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it;
sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he
pronounces _Amen_ three or four times to the same prayer; and
sometimes stands up when every body else is upon their knees, to count
the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing.
I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst
of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was
about, and not disturb the congregation. This _John Matthews_ it
seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was
kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the Knight,
though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all
circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are
not polite enough to see any thing ridiculous in his behaviour; besides
that, the general good sense and worthiness of his character makes his
friends observe these little singularities as foils, that rather set off
than blemish his good qualities.
As soon as the sermon is finished, no body presumes to stir till Sir
ROGER is gone out of the church. The Knight walks down from his seat in
the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to
him on each side; and every now and then inquires how such an one's
wife, or mother, or son, or father do, whom he does not see at church;
which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.
The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising-day, when Sir
ROGER has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a
bible to be given him next day for his encouragement; and sometimes
accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir ROGER has
likewise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place; and that he may
encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church-
service, has promised upon the death of the present incumbent, who is
very old, to bestow it according to merit.
The fair understanding between Sir ROGER and his chaplain, and their
mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable, because the
very next village is famous for the differences and contentions that
arise between the parson and the 'squire, who live in a perpetual state
of war. The parson is always preaching at the 'squire, and the 'squire
to be revenged on the parson never comes to church. The 'squire has made
all his tenants atheists and tithe-stealers; while the parson instructs
them every _Sunday_ in the dignity of his order, and insinuates to
them in almost every sermon, that he is a better man than his patron. In
short, matters are come to such an extremity, that the squire has not
said his prayers either in public or private this half year; and that
the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for
him in the face of the whole congregation.
Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal
to the ordinary people; who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that
they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate,
as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any
truth, how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, when
they know there are several men of five hundred a year, who do not
believe it. L.
No. 113. TUESDAY, JULY 10.
_Hoerent infixi pectore vultus._
VIRG. AEn. iv. ver. 4.
Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart.
In my first description of the company in which I pass most of my time,
it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which my friend
Sir ROGER had met with in his youth; which was no less than a
disappointment in love. It happened this evening that we fell into a
very pleasing walk at a distance from his house: As soon as we came into
it, 'It is,' quoth the good old man, looking round him with a smile,
'very hard, that any part of my land should be settled upon one who has
used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am sure I could not
see a sprig of any bough of this whole walk of trees, but I should
reflect upon her and her severity. She has certainly the finest hand of
any woman in the world. You are to know this was the place wherein I
used to muse upon her; and by that custom I can never come into it, but
the same tender sentiments revive in my mind, as if I had actually
walked with that beautiful creature under these shades. I have been fool
enough to carve her name on the bark of several of these trees; so
unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt the removing of
their passions by the methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. She
has certainly the finest hand of any woman in the world.'
Here followed a profound silence; and I was not displeased to observe my
friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever before
taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause he
entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with an
air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had ever had
before; and gave me the picture of that cheerful mind of his, before it
received that stroke which has ever since affected his words and
actions. But he went on as follows.
'I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and resolved to follow
the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors who have inhabited this
spot of earth before me, in all the methods of hospitality and good
neighbourhood, for the sake of my fame; and in country-sports and
recreations, for the sake of my health. In my twenty-third year I was
obliged to serve as sheriff of the county; and, in my servants,
officers, and whole equipage, indulged the pleasure of a young man (who
did not think ill of his own person) in taking that publick occasion of
shewing my figure and behaviour to advantage. You may easily imagine to
yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well, and was
very well dressed, at the head of a whole county, with musick before me,
a feather in my hat, and my horse well bitted. I can assure you I was
not a little pleased with the kind looks and glances I had from all the
balconies and windows as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held.
But when I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in
court, to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This
commanding creature (who was born for the destruction of all who behold
her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, and bore the whispers
of all around the court, with such a pretty uneasiness, I warrant you,
and then recovered herself from one eye to another, till she was
perfectly confused by meeting something so wistful in all she
encountered, that at last, with a murrain to her, she cast her
bewitching eye upon me. I no sooner met it, but I bowed like a great
surprized booby; and knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I
cried, like a captivated calf as I was, Make way for the defendant's
witnesses.
This sudden partiality made all the county immediately see the sheriff
was also become a slave to the fine widow. During the time her cause was
upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant you, with such a deep
attention to her business, took opportunities to have little billets
handed to her counsel, then would be in such a pretty confusion,
occasioned, you must know, by acting before so much company, that not
only I, but the whole court was prejudiced in her favour; and all that
the next heir to her husband had to urge, was thought so groundless and
frivolous, that when it came to her counsel to reply, there was not half
so much said as every one besides in the court thought he could have
urged to her advantage. You must understand, Sir, this perverse woman is
one of those unaccountable creatures, that secretly rejoice in the
admiration of men, but indulge themselves in no farther consequences.
Hence it is that she has ever had a train of admirers, and she removes
from her slaves in town to those in the country, according to the
seasons of the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the
pleasures of friendship: She is always accompanied by a confident, who
is witness to her daily protestations against our sex, and consequently
a bar to her first steps towards love, upon the strength of her own
maxims and declarations.
'However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress of mine has
distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir ROGER
DE COVERLEY was the tamest and most humane of all the brutes in the
country. I was told she said so, by one who thought he rallied me; but
upon the strength of this slender encouragement of being thought least
detestable, I made new liveries, new-paired my coach-horses, sent them
all to town to be bitted, and taught to throw their legs well, and move
all together, before I pretended to cross the country, and wait upon
her. As soon as I thought my retinue suitable to the character of my
fortune and youth, I set out from hence to make my addresses. The
particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishes, and
yet command respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a greater
share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than is usual even among men of
merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race of women. If you will not
let her go on with a certain artifice with her eyes, and the skill of
beauty, she will arm herself with her real charms, and strike you with
admiration instead of desire. It is certain that if you were to behold
the whole woman, there is that dignity in her aspect, that composure in
her motion, that complacency in her manner, that if her form makes you
hope, her merit makes you fear. But then again she is such a desperate
scholar, that no country-gentleman can approach her without being a
jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house I was
admitted to her presence with great civility; at the same time she
placed herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude, as I think
you call the posture of a picture, that she discovered new charms, and I
at last came towards her with such an awe as made me speechless. This
she no sooner observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a
discourse to me concerning love and honour, as they both are followed by
pretenders, and the real votaries to them. When she discussed these
points in a discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as the best
philosopher in _Europe_ could possibly make, she asked me whether
she was so happy as to fall in with my sentiments on these important
particulars. Her confident sat by her, and upon my being in the last
confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers turning to her says,
'I am very glad to observe Sir ROGER pauses upon this subject, and seems
resolved to deliver all his sentiments upon the matter when he pleases
to speak.' They both kept their countenances, and after I had sat half
an hour meditating how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose
up and took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very often in
her way, and she as often has directed a discourse to me which I do not
understand. This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance from the most
beautiful object my eyes ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with all
mankind, and you must make love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx,
by posing her. But were she like other women, and that there were any
talking to her, how constant must the pleasure of that man be, who would
converse with the creature--But, after all, you may be sure her heart is
fixed on some one or other; and yet I have been credibly informed;--but
who can believe half that is said? After she had done speaking to me,
she put her hand to her bosom and adjusted her tucker. Then she cast her
eyes a little down, upon my beholding her too earnestly. They say she
sings excellently: Her voice in her ordinary speech has something in it
inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a publick table
the day after I first saw her, and she helped me to some tansy in the
eye of all the gentlemen in the country. She has certainly the finest
hand of any woman in the world. I can assure you, Sir, were you to
behold her, you would be in the same condition; for as her speech is
musick, her form is angelick. But I find I grow irregular while I am
talking of her; but indeed it would be stupidity to be unconcerned at
such perfection. Oh the excellent creature! she is as inimitable to all
women, as she is inaccessible to all men.'
I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him towards the
house, that we might be joined by some other company; and am convinced
that the widow is the secret cause of all that inconsistency which
appears in some parts of my friend's discourse, though he has so much
command of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to that
of _Martial_, which one knows not how to render into
_English_, _Dum tacet hanc loquitur_. I shall end this paper
with that whole epigram, which represents with much humour my honest
friend's condition.