any man's faculties, whom I have only known in one degree of elevation;
but take some opportunity of attending him from the cellar to the
garret, and try upon him all the various degrees of rarefaction and
condensation, tension and laxity. If he is neither vivacious aloft, nor
serious below, I then consider him as hopeless; but as it seldom
happens, that I do not find the temper to which the texture of his brain
is fitted, I accommodate him in time with a tube of mercury, first
marking the points most favourable to his intellects, according to rules
which I have long studied, and which I may, perhaps, reveal to mankind
in a complete treatise of barometrical pneumatology.
Another cause of the gaiety and sprightliness of the dwellers in garrets
is probably the increase of that vertiginous motion, with which we are
carried round by the diurnal revolution of the earth. The power of
agitation upon the spirits is well known; every man has felt his heart
lightened in a rapid vehicle, or on a galloping horse; and nothing is
plainer, than that he who towers to the fifth story, is whirled through
more space by every circumrotation, than another that grovels upon the
ground-floor. The nations between the topicks are known to be fiery,
inconstant, inventive, and fanciful; because, living at the utmost
length of the earth's diameter, they are carried about with more
swiftness than those whom nature has placed nearer to the poles; and
therefore, as it becomes a wise man to struggle with the inconveniencies
of his country, whenever celerity and acuteness are requisite, we must
actuate our languor by taking a few turns round the centre in a garret.
If you imagine that I ascribe to air and motion effects which they
cannot produce, I desire you to consult your own memory, and consider
whether you have never known a man acquire reputation in his garret,
which, when fortune or a patron had placed him upon the first floor, he
was unable to maintain; and who never recovered his former vigour of
understanding, till he was restored to his original situation. That a
garret will make every man a wit, I am very far from supposing; I know
there are some who would continue blockheads even on the summit of the
Andes, or on the peak of Teneriffe. But let not any man be considered as
unimprovable till this potent remedy has been tried; for perhaps he was
formed to be great only in a garret, as the joiner of Aretaeus was
rational in no other place but his own shop.
I think a frequent removal to various distances from the centre, so
necessary to a just estimate of intellectual abilities, and consequently
of so great use in education, that if I hoped that the publick could be
persuaded to so expensive an experiment, I would propose, that there
should be a cavern dug, and a tower erected, like those which Bacon
describes in Solomon's house, for the expansion and concentration of
understanding, according to the exigence of different employments, or
constitutions. Perhaps some that fume away in meditations upon time and
space in the tower, might compose tables of interest at a certain depth;
and he that upon level ground stagnates in silence, or creeps in
narrative, might at the height of half a mile, ferment into merriment,
sparkle with repartee, and froth with declamation.
Addison observes, that we may find the heat of Virgil's climate, in some
lines of his Georgick: so, when I read a composition, I immediately
determine the height of the author's habitation. As an elaborate
performance is commonly said to smell of the lamp, my commendation of a
noble thought, a sprightly sally, or a bold figure, is to pronounce it
fresh from the garret; an expression which would break from me upon the
perusal of most of your papers, did I not believe, that you sometimes
quit the garret, and ascend into the cock-loft.
HYPERTATUS.
No. 118. SATURDAY, MAY 4, 1751.
--Omnes illacrymabiles
Urgentur, ignotique longâ
Nocte. Hon. Lib. iv. Ode ix. 26.
In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown. FRANCIS.
Cicero has, with his usual elegance and magnificence of language,
attempted, in his relation of the dream of Scipio, to depreciate those
honours for which he himself appears to have panted with restless
solicitude, by shewing within what narrow limits all that fame and
celebrity which man can hope for from men is circumscribed.
"You see," says Africanus, pointing at the earth, from the celestial
regions, "that the globe assigned to the residence and habitation of
human beings is of small dimensions: how then can you obtain from the
praise of men, any glory worthy of a wish? Of this little world the
inhabited parts are neither numerous nor wide; even the spots where men
are to be found are broken by intervening deserts, and the nations are
so separated as that nothing can be transmitted from one to another.
With the people of the south, by whom the opposite part of the earth is
possessed, you have no intercourse; and by how small a tract do you
communicate with the countries of the north? The territory which you
inhabit is no more than a scanty island, inclosed by a small body of
water, to which you give the name of the great sea and the Atlantick
ocean. And even in this known and frequented continent, what hope can
you entertain, that your renown will pass the stream of Ganges, or the
cliffs of Caucasus? or by whom will your name be uttered in the
extremities of the north or south, towards the rising or the setting
sun? So narrow is the space to which your fame can be propagated; and
even there how long will it remain?"
He then proceeds to assign natural causes why fame is not only narrow in
its extent, but short in its duration; he observes the difference
between the computation of time in earth and heaven, and declares, that
according to the celestial chronology, no human honours can last a
single year.
Such are the objections by which Tully has made a shew of discouraging
the pursuit of fame; objections which sufficiently discover his
tenderness and regard for his darling phantom. Homer, when the plan of
his poem made the death of Patroclus necessary, resolved, at least, that
he should die with honour; and therefore brought down against him the
patron god of Troy, and left to Hector only the mean task of giving the
last blow to an enemy whom a divine hand had disabled from resistance.
Thus Tully ennobles fame, which he professes to degrade, by opposing it
to celestial happiness; he confines not its extent but by the boundaries
of nature, nor contracts its duration but by representing it small in
the estimation of superior beings. He still admits it the highest and
noblest of terrestrial objects, and alleges little more against it, than
that it is neither without end, nor without limits.
What might be the effect of these observations conveyed in Ciceronian
eloquence to Roman understandings, cannot be determined; but few of
those who shall in the present age read my humble version will find
themselves much depressed in their hopes, or retarded in their designs;
for I am not inclined to believe, that they who among us pass their
lives in the cultivation of knowledge, or acquisition of power, have
very anxiously inquired what opinions prevail on the further banks of
the Ganges, or invigorated any effort by the desire of spreading their
renown among the clans of Caucasus. The hopes and fears of modern minds
are content to range in a narrower compass; a single nation, and a few
years, have generally sufficient amplitude to fill our imaginations.
A little consideration will indeed teach us, that fame has other limits
than mountains and oceans; and that he who places happiness in the
frequent repetition of his name, may spend his life in propagating it,
without any danger of weeping for new worlds, or necessity of passing
the Atlantick sea.
The numbers to whom any real and perceptible good or evil can be derived
by the greatest power, or most active diligence, are inconsiderable; and
where neither benefit nor mischief operate, the only motive to the
mention or remembrance of others is curiosity; a passion, which, though
in some degree universally associated to reason, is easily confined,
overborne, or diverted from any particular object.
Among the lower classes of mankind, there will be found very little
desire of any other knowledge, than what may contribute immediately to
the relief of some pressing uneasiness, or the attainment of some near
advantage. The Turks are said to hear with wonder a proposal to walk
out, only that they may walk back; and inquire why any man should labour
for nothing: so those whose condition has always restrained them to the
contemplation of their own necessities, and who have been accustomed to
look forward only to a small distance, will scarcely understand, why
nights and days should be spent in studies, which end in new studies,
and which, according to Malherbe's observation, do not tend to lessen
the price of bread; nor will the trader or manufacturer easily be
persuaded, that much pleasure can arise from the mere knowledge of
actions, performed in remote regions, or in distant times; or that any
thing can deserve their inquiry, of which, [Greek: kleos oion akouomen,
oide ti idmen], we can only hear the report, but which cannot influence
our lives by any consequences.
The truth is, that very few have leisure from indispensable business, to
employ their thoughts upon narrative or characters; and among those to
whom fortune has given the liberty of living more by their own choice,
many create to themselves engagements, by the indulgence of some petty
ambition, the admission of some insatiable desire, or the toleration of
some predominant passion. The man whose whole wish is to accumulate
money, has no other care than to collect interest, to estimate
securities, and to engage for mortgages: the lover disdains to turn his
ear to any other name than that of Corinna; and the courtier thinks the
hour lost which is not spent in promoting his interest, and facilitating
his advancement. The adventures of valour, and the discoveries of
science, will find a cold reception, when they are obtruded upon an
attention thus busy with its favourite amusement, and impatient of
interruption or disturbance.
But not only such employments as seduce attention by appearances of
dignity, or promises of happiness, may restrain the mind from excursion
and inquiry; curiosity may be equally destroyed by less formidable
enemies; it may be dissipated in trifles, or congealed by indolence. The
sportsman and the man of dress have their heads filled with a fox or a
horse-race, a feather or a ball; and live in ignorance of every thing
beside, with as much content as he that heaps up gold, or solicits
preferment, digs the field, or beats the anvil; and some yet lower in
the ranks of intellect, dream out their days without pleasure or
business, without joy or sorrow, nor ever rouse from their lethargy to
hear or think.
Even of those who have dedicated themselves to knowledge, the far
greater part have confined their curiosity to a few objects, and have
very little inclination to promote any fame, but that which their own
studies entitle them to partake. The naturalist has no desire to know
the opinions or conjectures of the philologer: the botanist looks upon
the astronomer as a being unworthy of his regard: the lawyer scarcely
hears the name of a physician without contempt; and he that is growing
great and happy by electrifying a bottle, wonders how the world can be
engaged by trifling prattle about war or peace.
If, therefore, he that imagines the world filled with his actions and
praises, shall subduct from the number of his encomiasts, all those who
are placed below the flight of fame, and who hear in the valleys of life
no voice but that of necessity; all those who imagine themselves too
important to regard him, and consider the mention of his name as an
usurpation of their time; all who are too much or too little pleased
with themselves, to attend to any thing external; all who are attracted
by pleasure, or chained down by pain, to unvaried ideas; all who are
withheld from attending his triumph by different pursuits; and all who
slumber in universal negligence; he will find his renown straitened by
nearer bounds than the rocks of Caucasus, and perceive that no man can
be venerable or formidable, but to a small part of his fellow-creatures.
That we may not languish in our endeavours after excellence, it is
necessary, that, as Africanus counsels his descendant, "we raise our
eyes to higher prospects, and contemplate our future and eternal state,
without giving up our hearts to the praise of crowds, or fixing our
hopes on such rewards as human power can bestow."
No. 119. TUESDAY, MAY 7, 1751.
_Iliacos intra muros peccatur, et extra_. HOR. Lib. i. Ep. ii, 16.
Faults lay on either side the Trojan tow'rs. ELPHINSTON.
TO THE RAMBLER.
SIR,
As, notwithstanding all that wit, or malice, or pride, or prudence will
be able to suggest, men and women must at last pass their lives
together, I have never therefore thought those writers friends to human
happiness, who endeavour to excite in either sex a general contempt or
suspicion of the other. To persuade them who are entering the world, and
looking abroad for a suitable associate, that all are equally vicious,
or equally ridiculous; that they who trust are certainly betrayed, and
they who esteem are always disappointed; is not to awaken judgment, but
to inflame temerity. Without hope there can be no caution. Those who are
convinced, that no reason for preference can be found, will never harass
their thoughts with doubt and deliberation; they will resolve, since
they are doomed to misery, that no needless anxiety shall disturb their
quiet; they will plunge at hazard into the crowd, and snatch the first
hand that shall be held toward them.
That the world is over-run with vice, cannot be denied; but vice,
however predominant, has not yet gained an unlimited dominion. Simple
and unmingled good is not in our power, but we may generally escape a
greater evil by suffering a less; and therefore, those who undertake to
initiate the young and ignorant in the knowledge of life, should be
careful to inculcate the possibility of virtue and happiness, and to
encourage endeavours by prospects of success.
You, perhaps, do not suspect, that these are the sentiments of one who
has been subject for many years to all the hardships of antiquated
virginity; has been long accustomed to the coldness of neglect, and the
petulance of insult; has been mortified in full assemblies by inquiries
after forgotten fashions, games long disused, and wits and beauties of
ancient renown; has been invited, with malicious importunity, to the
second wedding of many acquaintances; has been ridiculed by two
generations of coquets in whispers intended to be heard; and been long
considered by the airy and gay, as too venerable for familiarity, and
too wise for pleasure. It is indeed natural for injury to provoke anger,
and by continual repetition to produce an habitual asperity; yet I have
hitherto struggled with so much vigilance against my pride and my
resentment, that I have preserved my temper uncorrupted. I have not yet
made it any part of my employment to collect sentences against marriage;
nor am inclined to lessen the number of the few friends whom time has
left me, by obstructing that happiness which I cannot partake, and
venting my vexation in censures of the forwardness and indiscretion of
girls, or the inconstancy, tastelessness, and perfidy of men.
It is, indeed, not very difficult to bear that condition to which we are
not condemned by necessity, but induced by observation and choice; and
therefore I, perhaps, have never yet felt all the malignity with which a
reproach, edged with the appellation of old maid, swells some of those
hearts in which it is infixed. I was not condemned in my youth to
solitude, either by indigence or deformity, nor passed the earlier part
of life without the flattery of courtship, and the joys of triumph. I
have danced the round of gaiety amidst the murmurs of envy, and
gratulations of applause; been attended from pleasure to pleasure by the
great, the sprightly, and the vain; and seen my regard solicited by the
obsequiousness of gallantry, the gaiety of wit, and the timidity of
love. If, therefore, I am yet a stranger to nuptial happiness, I suffer
only the consequences of my own resolves, and can look back upon the
succession of lovers, whose addresses I have rejected, without grief,
and without malice.
When my name first began to be inscribed upon glasses, I was honoured
with the amorous professions of the gay Venustulus, a gentleman, who,
being the only son of a wealthy family, had been educated in all the
wantonness of expense, and softness of effeminacy. He was beautiful in
his person, and easy in his address, and, therefore, soon gained upon my
eye at an age when the sight is very little over-ruled by the
understanding. He had not any power in himself of gladdening or amusing;
but supplied his want of conversation by treats and diversions; and his
chief art of courtship was to fill the mind of his mistress with
parties, rambles, musick, and shows. We were often engaged in short
excursions to gardens and seats, and I was for a while pleased with the
care which Venustulus discovered in securing me from any appearance of
danger, or possibility of mischance. He never failed to recommend
caution to his coachman, or to promise the waterman a reward if he
landed us safe; and always contrived to return by daylight, for fear of
robbers. This extraordinary solicitude was represented for a time as the
effect of his tenderness for me; but fear is too strong for continued
hypocrisy. I soon discovered that Venustulus had the cowardice as well
as elegance of a female. His imagination was perpetually clouded with
terrours, and he could scarcely refrain from screams and outcries at any
accidental surprise. He durst not enter a room if a rat was heard behind
the wainscot, nor cross a field where the cattle were frisking in the
sunshine; the least breeze that waved upon the river was a storm, and
every clamour in the street was a cry of fire. I have seen him lose his
colour when my squirrel had broke his chain; and was forced to throw
water in his face on the sudden entrance of a black cat. Compassion once
obliged me to drive away with my fan, a beetle that kept him in
distress, and chide off a dog that yelped at his heels, to which he
would gladly have given up me to facilitate his own escape. Women
naturally expect defence and protection from a lover or a husband, and,
therefore, you will not think me culpable in refusing a wretch, who
would have burdened life with unnecessary fears, and flown to me for
that succour which it was his duty to have given.
My next lover was Fungoso, the son of a stockjobber, whose visits my
friends, by the importunity of persuasion, prevailed upon me to allow.
Fungoso was no very suitable companion; for having been bred in a
counting-house, he spoke a language unintelligible in any other place.
He had no desire of any reputation but that of an acute prognosticator
of the changes in the funds; nor had any means of raising merriment, but
by telling how somebody was overreached in a bargain by his father. He
was, however, a youth of great sobriety and prudence, and frequently
informed us how carefully he would improve my fortune. I was not in
haste to conclude the match, but was so much awed by my parents, that I
durst not dismiss him, and might, perhaps, have been doomed for ever to
the grossness of pedlary, and the jargon of usury, had not a fraud been
discovered in the settlement, which set me free from the persecution of
grovelling pride, and pecuniary impudence. I was afterwards six months
without any particular notice but at last became the idol of the
glittering Flosculus, who prescribed the mode of embroidery to all the
fops of his time, and varied at pleasure the cock of every hat, and the
sleeve of every coat that appeared in fashionable assemblies. Flosculus
made some impression upon my heart by a compliment which few ladies can
hear without emotion; he commended my skill in dress, my judgment in
suiting colours, and my art in disposing ornaments. But Flosculus was
too much engaged by his own elegance, to be sufficiently attentive to
the duties of a lover, or to please with varied praise an ear made
delicate by riot of adulation. He expected to be repaid part of his
tribute, and staid away three days, because I neglected to take notice
of a new coat. I quickly found, that Flosculus was rather a rival than
an admirer; and that we should probably live in a perpetual struggle of
emulous finery, and spend our lives in stratagems to be first in the
fashion.
I had soon after the honour at a feast of attracting the eyes of
Dentatus, one of those human beings whose only happiness is to dine.
Dentatus regaled me with foreign varieties, told me of measures that he
had laid for procuring the best cook in France, and entertained me with
bills of fare, prescribed the arrangement of dishes, and taught me two
sauces invented by himself. At length, such is the uncertainty of human
happiness, I declared my opinion too hastily upon a pie made under his
own direction; after which he grew so cold and negligent, that he was
easily dismissed.
Many other lovers, or pretended lovers, I have had the honour to lead
awhile in triumph. But two of them I drove from me, by discovering that
they had no taste or knowledge in musick; three I dismissed, because
they were drunkards; two, because they paid their addresses at the same
time to other ladies; and six, because they attempted to influence my
choice by bribing my maid. Two more I discarded at the second visit for
obscene allusions; and five for drollery on religion. In the latter part
of my reign, I sentenced two to perpetual exile, for offering me
settlements, by which the children of a former marriage would have been
injured; four, for representing falsely the value of their estates;
three for concealing their debts; and one, for raising the rent of a
decrepit tenant.
I have now sent you a narrative, which the ladies may oppose, to the
tale of Hymenaeus. I mean not to depreciate the sex which has produced
poets and philosophers, heroes and martyrs; but will not suffer the
rising generation of beauties to be dejected by partial satire; or to
imagine that those who censured them have not likewise their follies,
and their vices. I do not yet believe happiness unattainable in
marriage, though I have never yet been able to find a man, with whom I
could prudently venture an inseparable union. It is necessary to expose
faults, that their deformity may be seen; but the reproach ought not to
be extended beyond the crime, nor either sex to be contemned, because
some women, or men, are indelicate or dishonest.
I am, &c.
TRANQUILLA.
No. 120. SATURDAY, MAY 11, 1751.
Redditum Cyri solio Phraaten.
Dissidens plebi, numero beatorum
Eiimit virtus, populumque falsis
Dedocet uti
Vocibus.--HOR. Lib. ii. Od. ii. 17.
True virtue can the crowd unteach
Their false mistaken forms of speech;
Virtue, to crowds a foe profest,
Disdains to number with the blest
Phraates, by his slaves ador'd,
And to the Parthian crown restor'd. FRANCIS.
In the reign of Jenghiz Can, conqueror of the east, in the city of
Samarcand, lived Nouradin the merchant, renowned throughout all the
regions of India, for the extent of his commerce, and the integrity of
his dealings. His warehouses were filled with all the commodities of the
remotest nations; every rarity of nature, every curiosity of art,
whatever was valuable, whatever was useful, hasted to his hand. The
streets were crowded with his carriages; the sea was covered with his
ships; the streams of Oxus were wearied with conveyance, and every
breeze of the sky wafted wealth to Nouradin.