“Thus _Cyrus_. But to proceed. No one shall persuade me, _Scipio_, that your worthy Father, or your Grandfathers _Paulus_ and _Africanus_, or _Africanus_ his Father, or Uncle, or many other excellent Men whom I need not name, performed so many Actions to be remembered by Posterity, without being sensible that Futurity was their Right. And, if I may be allowed an old Man’s Privilege, to speak of my self, do you think I would have endured the Fatigue of so many wearisome Days and Nights both at home and abroad, if I imagined that the same Boundary which is set to my Life must terminate my Glory? Were it not more desirable to have worn out my days in Ease and Tranquility, free from Labour, and without Emulation? But I know not how, my Soul has always raised it self, and looked forward on Futurity, in this View and Expectation, that when it shall depart out of Life, it shall then live for ever; and if this were not true, that the Mind is immortal, the Souls of the most worthy would not, above all others, have the strongest Impulse to Glory.
“What besides this is the Cause that the wisest Men die with the greatest AEquanimity, the ignorant with the greatest Concern? Does it not seem that those Minds which have the most extensive Views, foresee they are removing to a happier Condition, which those of a narrower Sight do not perceive? I, for my part, am transported with the Hope of seeing your Ancestors, whom I have honoured and loved, and am earnestly desirous of meeting not only those excellent Persons whom I have known, but those too of whom I have heard and read, and of whom I myself have written: nor would I be detained from so pleasing a Journey. O happy Day, when I shall escape from this Croud, this Heap of Pollution, and be admitted to that Divine Assembly of exalted Spirits! When I shall go not only to those great Persons I have named, but to my _Cato_, my Son, than whom a better Man was never born, and whose Funeral Rites I my self performed, whereas he ought rather to have attended mine. Yet has not his Soul deserted me, but, seeming to cast back a Look on me, is gone before to those Habitations to which it was sensible I should follow him. And though I might appear to have born my Loss with Courage, I was not unaffected with it, but I comforted myself in the Assurance that it would not be long before we should meet again, and be divorced no more.
_I am, SIR, &c._”‘
_I question not but my Reader will be very much pleased to hear, that the Gentleman who has obliged the World with the foregoing Letter, and who was the Author of the 210th Speculation on the Immortality of the Soul, [the 375th on Virtue in Distress,] the 525th on Conjugal Love, and two or three other very fine ones among those which are not lettered at the end, will soon publish a noble Poem, Intitled_ An Ode to the Creator of the World, _occasioned by the Fragments of_ Orpheus.
[Footnote 1: _Pensees_. Part I. Art. iv. 7.]
[Footnote 2: Cyropaedia, Book viii.]
* * * * *
No. 538. Monday, November 17, 1712. Addison.
‘–Ultra
Finem tendere opus.’
Hor.
Surprize is so much the Life of Stories, that every one aims at it, who endeavours to please by telling them. Smooth Delivery, an elegant Choice of Words, and a sweet Arrangement, are all beautifying _Graces_, but not the particulars in this Point of Conversation which either long command the Attention, or strike with the Violence of a sudden Passion, or occasion the burst of Laughter which accompanies Humour. I have sometimes fancied that the Mind is in this case like a Traveller who sees a fine Seat in Haste; he acknowledges the Delightfulness of a Walk set with Regularity, but would be uneasy if he were obliged to pass it over, when the first View had let him into all its Beauties from one End to the other.
However, a knowledge of the Success which Stories will have when they are attended with a Turn of Surprize, as it has happily made the Characters of some, so has it also been the Ruin of the Characters of others. There is a Set of Men who outrage Truth, instead of affecting us with a Manner in telling it; who over-leap the Line of Probability, that they may be seen to move out of the common Road; and endeavour only to make their Hearers stare, by imposing upon them with a kind of Nonsense against the Philosophy of Nature, or such a Heap of Wonders told upon their own Knowledge, as it is not likely one Man should ever have met with.
I have been led to this Observation by a Company into which I fell accidentally. The Subject of _Antipathies_ was a proper Field wherein such false Surprizes might expatiate, and there were those present who appeared very fond to shew it in its full Extent of traditional History. Some of them, in a learned manner, offered to our Consideration the miraculous Powers which the Effluviums of Cheese have over Bodies whose Pores are dispos’d to receive them in a noxious manner; others gave an account of such who could indeed bear the sight of Cheese, but not the Taste; for which they brought a Reason from the Milk of their Nurses. Others again discours’d, without endeavouring at Reasons, concerning an unconquerable Aversion which some Stomachs have against a Joint of Meat when it is whole, and the eager Inclination they have for it, when, by its being cut up, the Shape which had affected them is altered. From hence they passed to Eels, then to Parsnips, and so from one Aversion to another, till we had work’d up our selves to such a pitch of Complaisance, that when the Dinner was to come in, we enquired the name of every Dish, and hop’d it would be no Offence to any in Company, before it was admitted. When we had sat down, this Civility amongst us turned the Discourse from Eatables to other sorts of Aversions; and the eternal Cat, which plagues every Conversation of this nature, began then to engross the Subject. One had sweated at the Sight of it, another had smelled it out as it lay concealed in a very distant Cupboard; and he who crowned the whole set of these Stories, reckon’d up the Number of Times in which it had occasion’d him to swoon away. At last, says he, that you may all be satisfy’d of my invincible Aversion to a Cat, I shall give an unanswerable Instance: As I was going through a Street of _London_, where I had never been till then, I felt a general Damp and Faintness all over me, which I could not tell how to account for, till I chanced to cast my Eyes upwards, and found that I was passing under a Sign-Post on which the Picture of a Cat was hung.
The Extravagance of this Turn in the way of Surprize, gave a stop to the Talk we had been carrying on: Some were silent because they doubted, and others because they were conquered in their own Way; so that the Gentleman had Opportunity to press the Belief of it upon us, and let us see that he was rather exposing himself than ridiculing others.
I must freely own that I did not all this while disbelieve every thing that was said; but yet I thought some in the Company had been endeavouring who should pitch the Bar farthest; that it had for some time been a measuring Cast, and at last my Friend of the Cat and Sign-post had thrown beyond them all.
I then consider’d the Manner in which this Story had been received, and the Possibility that it might have pass’d for a Jest upon others, if he had not labour’d against himself. From hence, thought I, there are two Ways which the well-bred World generally takes to correct such a Practice, when they do not think fit to contradict it flatly.
The first of these is a general Silence, which I would not advise any one to interpret in his own behalf. It is often the Effect of Prudence in avoiding a Quarrel, when they see another drive so fast, that there is no stopping him without being run against; and but very seldom the Effect of Weakness in believing suddenly. The generality of Mankind are not so grossly ignorant, as some over-bearing Spirits would persuade themselves; and if the Authority of a Character or a Caution against Danger make us suppress our Opinions, yet neither of these are of force enough to suppress our Thoughts of them. If a Man who has endeavoured to amuse his Company with Improbabilities could but look into their Minds, he would find that they imagine he lightly esteems of their Sense when he thinks to impose upon them, and that he is less esteemed by them for his Attempt in doing so. His endeavour to glory at their Expence becomes a Ground of Quarrel, and the Scorn and Indifference with which they entertain it begins the immediate Punishment: And indeed (if we should even go no further) Silence, or a negligent Indifference has a deeper way of wounding than Opposition; because Opposition proceeds from an Anger that has a sort of generous Sentiment for the Adversary mingling along with it, while it shews that there is some Esteem in your Mind for him; in short, that you think him worth while to contest with: But Silence, or a negligent Indifference, proceeds from Anger, mixed with a Scorn that shews another he is thought by you too contemptible to be regarded.
The other Method which the World has taken for correcting this Practice of false Surprize, is to over-shoot such Talkers in their own Bow, or to raise the Story with further Degrees of Impossibility, and set up for a Voucher to them in such a manner as must let them see they stand detected. Thus I have heard a Discourse was once managed upon the Effects of Fear. One of the Company had given an account how it had turn’d his Friend’s Hair grey in a Night, while the Terrors of a Shipwrack encompassed him. Another taking the Hint from hence, began, upon his own Knowledge, to enlarge his Instances of the like nature to such a Number, that it was not probable he could ever have met with them; and as he still grounded these upon different Causes, for the sake of Variety, it might seem at last, from his Share of the Conversation, almost impossible that any one who can feel the Passion of Fear should all his Life escape so common an Effect of it. By this time some of the Company grew negligent, or desirous to contradict him: But one rebuked the rest with an appearance of Severity, and with the known old Story in his Head, assured them they need not scruple to believe that the Fear of any thing can make a Man’s Hair grey, since he knew one whose Perriwig had suffered so by it. Thus he stopped the Talk, and made them easy. Thus is the same Method taken to bring us to Shame, which we fondly take to increase our Character. It is indeed a kind of Mimickry, by which another puts on our Air of Conversation to show us to our selves: He seems to look ridiculous before you, that you may remember how near a Resemblance you bear to him, or that you may know he will not lie under the Imputation of believing you. Then it is that you are struck dumb immediately with a conscientious Shame for what you have been saying, Then it is that you are inwardly grieved at the Sentiments which you cannot but perceive others entertain concerning you. In short, you are against your self; the Laugh of the Company runs against you; the censuring World is obliged to you for that Triumph which you have allowed them at your own Expence; and Truth, which you have injured, has a near way of being revenged on you, when by the bare Repetition of your Story you become a frequent Diversion for the [Publick. [1]]
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘The other Day, walking in _Pancras_ Churchyard, I thought of your Paper wherein you mention Epitaphs, and am of opinion this has a Thought in it worth being communicated to your Readers.
‘Here Innocence and Beauty lies, whose Breath Was snatch’d by early, not untimely Death. Hence did she go, just as she did begin Sorrow to know, before she knew to sin. Death, that does Sin and Sorrow thus prevent, Is the next Blessing to a Life well spent.’
[I am, SIR, Your Servant.]
[Footnote 1: [Publick. _I am, Sir, your Servant.]]
* * * * *
No. 539. Tuesday, November 18, 1712. Budgell.
‘Heteroclyta sunto.–Quae Genus.’
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘I am a young Widow of a good Fortune and Family, and just come to Town; where I find I have Clusters of pretty Fellows come already to visit me, some dying with Hopes, others with Fears, tho’ they never saw me. Now what I would beg of you, would be to know whether I may venture to use these pert Fellows with the same Freedom as I did my Country Acquaintance. I desire your Leave to use them as to me shall seem meet, without Imputation of a Jilt; for since I make Declaration that not one of them shall have me, I think I ought to be allowed the Liberty of insulting those who have the Vanity to believe it is in their power to make me break that Resolution. There are Schools for learning to use Foils, frequented by those who never design to fight; and this useless way of aiming at the Heart, without design to wound it on either side, is the Play with which I am resolved to divert my self: The Man who pretends to win, I shall use like him who comes into a Fencing-School to pick a Quarrel. I hope, upon this Foundation, you will give me the free use of the natural and artificial Force of my Eyes, Looks, and Gestures. As for verbal Promises, I will make none, but shall have no mercy on the conceited Interpreters of Glances and Motions. I am particularly skill’d in the downcast Eye, and the Recovery into a sudden full Aspect, and away again, as you may have seen sometimes practised by us Country Beauties beyond all that you have observed in Courts and Cities. Add to this, Sir, that I have a ruddy heedless Look, which covers Artifice the best of any thing. Tho’ I can dance very well, I affect a tottering untaught way of walking, by which I appear an easy Prey and never exert my instructed Charms till I find I have engaged a Pursuer. Be pleased, Sir, to print this Letter; which will certainly begin the Chace of a rich Widow: The many Foldings, Escapes, Returns and Doublings which I make, I shall from time to time communicate to you, for the better Instruction of all Females who set up, like me, for reducing the present exorbitant Power and Insolence of Man.’
_I am, SIR,
Your faithful Correspondent_,
Relicta Lovely.
_Dear Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘I depend upon your profess’d Respect for virtuous Love, for your immediate answering the Design of this Letter; which is no other than to lay before the World the Severity of certain Parents who desire to suspend the Marriage of a discreet young Woman of eighteen, three Years longer, for no other reason but that of her being too young to enter into that State. As to the consideration of Riches, my Circumstances are such, that I cannot be suspected to make my Addresses to her on such low Motives as Avarice or Ambition. If ever Innocence, Wit and Beauty, united their utmost Charms, they have in her. I wish you would expatiate a little on this Subject, and admonish her Parents that it may be from the very Imperfection of Human Nature it self, and not any personal Frailty of her or me, that our Inclinations baffled at present may alter; and while we are arguing with our selves to put off the Enjoyment of our present Passions, our Affections may change their Objects in the Operation. It is a very delicate Subject to talk upon; but if it were but hinted, I am in hopes it would give the Parties concern’d some Reflection that might expedite our Happiness. There is a Possibility, and I hope I may say it without Imputation of Immodesty to her I love with the highest Honour; I say, there is a Possibility this Delay may be as painful to her as it is to me. If it be as much, it must be more, by reason of the severe Rules the Sex are under in being denied even the Relief of Complaint. If you oblige me in this, and I succeed, I promise you a Place at my Wedding, and a Treatment suitable to your Spectatorial Dignity.’
_Your most humble Servant_,
Eustace.
_SIR_,
‘I Yesterday heard a young Gentleman, that look’d as if he was just come to the Town, and a Scarf, upon Evil-speaking; which Subject, you know, Archbishop _Tillotson_ has so nobly handled in a Sermon in his _Folio_. As soon as ever he had named his Text, and had opened a little the Drift of his Discourse, I was in great hopes he had been one of Sir ROGER’S Chaplains. I have conceived so great an Idea of the charming Discourse above, that I should have thought one part of my Sabbath very well spent in hearing a Repetition of it. But alas! Mr. SPECTATOR, this Reverend Divine gave us his Grace’s Sermon, and yet I don’t know how; even I, that I am sure have read it at least twenty times, could not tell what to make of it, and was at a loss sometimes to guess what the Man aim’d at. He was so just indeed, as to give us all the Heads and the Sub-divisions of the Sermon; and farther I think there was not one beautiful Thought in it but what we had. But then, Sir, this Gentleman made so many pretty Additions; and he could never give us a Paragraph of the Sermon, but he introduced it with something which, methought, look’d more like a Design to shew his own Ingenuity, than to instruct the People. In short, he added and curtailed in such a manner that he vexed me; insomuch that I could not forbear thinking (what, I confess, I ought not to have thought of in so holy a Place) that this young Spark was as justly blameable as _Bullock_ or _Penkethman_ when they mend a noble Play of _Shakespear_ or _Johnson_. Pray, Sir, take this into your Consideration; and if we must be entertained with the Works of any of those great Men, desire these Gentlemen to give them us as they find them, that so, when we read them to our Families at home, they may the better remember they have heard them at Church.’
_SIR,
Your humble Servant_.
* * * * *
No. 540. Wednesday, November 19, 1712. Steele.
‘–Non Deficit Alter–‘
Virg.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘There is no Part of your Writings which I have in more Esteem than your Criticism upon _Milton_. It is an honourable and candid Endeavour to set the Works of our Noble Writers in the graceful Light which they deserve. You will lose much of my kind Inclination towards you, if you do not attempt the Encomium of _Spencer_ also, or at least indulge my Passion for that charming Author so far as to print the loose Hints I now give you on that Subject.
‘Spencer’s general Plan is the Representation of six Virtues, Holiness, Temperance, Chastity, Friendship, Justice and Courtesy, in six Legends by six Persons. The six Personages are supposed under proper Allegories suitable to their respective Characters, to do all that is necessary for the full Manifestation of the respective Virtues which they are to exert.
‘These one might undertake to shew under the several Heads, are admirably drawn; no Images improper, and most surprizingly beautiful. The Red-cross Knight runs through the whole Steps of the Christian Life; _Guyon_ does all that Temperance can possibly require; _Britomartis_ (a Woman) observes the true Rules of unaffected Chastity; _Arthegal_ is in every Respect of Life strictly and wisely just; _Calidore_ is rightly courteous.
‘In short, in _Fairy-Land_, where Knights Errant have a full Scope to range, and to do even what _Ariosto’s_ or _Orlando’s_ could not do in the World without breaking into Credibility, _Spencer’s_ Knights have, under those six Heads, given a full and a truly Poetical System of Christian, Public, and Low Life.
‘His Legend of Friendship is more diffuse, and yet even there the Allegory is finely drawn, only the Heads various, one Knight could not there support all the Parts.
‘To do honour to his Country, Prince _Arthur_ is an Universal Hero; in Holiness, Temperance, Chastity, and Justice super-excellent. For the same Reason, and to compliment Queen _Elizabeth_, _Gloriana_, Queen of Fairies, whose Court was the Asylum of the Oppressed, represents that Glorious Queen. At her Commands all these Knights set forth, and only at her’s the Red-cross Knight destroys the Dragon. _Guyon_ overturns the Bower of Bliss, _Arthegal_ (i. e. _Justice_) beats down _Geryoneo_ (i. e. _Phil._ II. King of _Spain_) to rescue _Belge_ (i. e. _Holland_) and he beats the _Grantorto_ (the same _Philip_ in another Light) to restore _Irena_ (i. e. _Peace_ to Europe.)
‘Chastity being the first Female Virtue, _Britomartis_ is a _Britain_; her Part is fine, though it requires Explication. His stile is very Poetical; no Puns, Affectations of Wit, forced Antitheses, or any of that low Tribe.
‘His old Words are all true _English_, and numbers exquisite; and since of Words there is the _Multa Renascentur_, since they are all proper, such a Poem should not (any more than _Milton’s_) subsist all of it of common ordinary Words. See Instances of Descriptions.
‘Causeless Jealousy in _Britomartis_, V. 6, 14, in its Restlessness.
‘Like as a wayward Child whose sounder Sleep Is broken with some fearful Dream’s Affright, With froward Will doth set himself to weep, Ne can be stil’d for all his Nurse’s Might, But kicks, and squalls, and shrieks for fell Despight; Now scratching her, and her loose Locks misusing, Now seeking Darkness, and now seeking Light; Then craving Suck, and then the Suck refusing: Such was this Lady’s Loves in her Love’s fond accusing.’
Curiosity occasioned by Jealousy, upon occasion of her Lover’s Absence. _Ibid, Stan_. 8, 9.
‘Then as she looked long, at last she spy’d One coming towards her with hasty Speed, Well ween’d she then, e’er him she plain descry’d, That it was one sent from her Love indeed; Whereat her Heart was fill’d with Hope and Dread, Ne would she stay till he in Place could come, But ran to weet him forth to know his Tidings somme; Even in the Door him meeting, she begun, And where is he, thy Lord, and how far hence? Declare at once; and hath he lost or won?’
_Care_ and his _House_ are described thus, IV. 6, 33, 34, 35.
‘Not far away, not meet for any Guest, They spy’d a little Cottage, like some poor Man’s Nest.’
34.
‘There entring in, they found the Good-Man’s self, Full busily unto his Work ybent,
Who was so weel a wretched wearish Elf, With hollow Eyes and raw-bone Cheeks forspent, As if he had in Prison long been pent. Full black and griesly did his Face appear, Besmear’d with Smoke that nigh his Eye-sight blent, With rugged Beard and Hoary shaggy Heare, The which he never wont to comb, or comely shear.’
35.
‘Rude was his Garment and to Rags all rent, Ne better had he, ne for better cared; His blistred Hands amongst the Cinders brent, And Fingers filthy, with long Nails prepared, Right fit to rend the Food on which he fared. His Name was_ Care; _a Blacksmith by his Trade, That neither Day nor Night from working spared, But to small purpose Iron Wedges made: These be unquiet Thoughts that careful Minds invade.’
‘Homer’s Epithets were much admired by Antiquity: See what great Justness and Variety there is in these Epithets of the Trees in the Forest where the Red-cross Knight lost _Truth_, B. I. Cant. i. St. 8, 9.
‘The sailing Pine, the Cedar proud and tall, The Vine-prop Elm, the Poplar never dry, The Builder Oak, sole King of Forests all. The Aspine good for Staves, the Cypress Funeral. The Laurel, Meed of mighty Conquerors, And Poets sage; the Fir that weepeth still, The Willow worn of forlorn Paramours,
The Yew obedient to the Bender’s Will. The Birch for Shafts, the Sallow for the Mill; The Myrrhe sweet bleeding in the bitter Wound, The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill, The fruitful Olive, and the Plantane round, The Carver Helm, the Maple seldom inward sound.’
‘I shall trouble you no more, but desire you to let me conclude with these Verses, though I think they have already been quoted by you; They are Directions to young Ladies opprest with Calumny. VI. 6, 14.
‘The best_ (said he) _that I can you advise, Is to avoid the Occasion of the Ill;
For when the Cause whence Evil doth arise Removed is, the Effect surceaseth still. Abstain from Pleasure, and restrain your Will, Subdue Desire, and bridle loose Delight, Use scanted Diet, and forbear your Fill, Shun Secrecy, and talk in open Sight;
So shall you soon repair your present evil Plight.’
T.
* * * * *
No. 541. Thursday, November 20, 1712. John Hughes.
‘Format enim Natura prius nos intus ad omnem Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram, Aut ad humum maerore gravi deducit et angit; Post effert animi motus interprete Lingua.’
Hor.
My Friend the _Templar_, whom I have so often mentioned in these Writings, having determined to lay aside his Poetical Studies, in order to a closer Pursuit of the Law, has put together, as a Farewell Essay, some Thoughts concerning [_Pronunciation_ and _Action_, [1]] which he has given me leave to communicate to the Publick. They are chiefly collected from his Favourite Author, _Cicero_, who is known to have been an intimate Friend of _Rostius_ the Actor, and a good Judge of [Dramatick [2]] Performances, as well as the most Eloquent Pleader of the Time in which he lived.
Cicero concludes his celebrated Books _de Oratore_ with some Precepts for Pronunciation and Action, without which Part he affirms that the best Orator in the World can never succeed; and an indifferent one, who is Master of this, shall gain much greater Applause. What could make a stronger Impression, says he, than those Exclamations of _Gracchus_:
‘Whither shall I turn? Wretch that I am! To what Place betake my self? Shall I go to the_ Capitol?–_Alas! it is overflowed with my Brother’s Blood. Or shall I retire to my House? Yet there I behold my Mother plung’d in Misery, weeping and despairing!’
These Breaks and Turns of Passion, it seems, were so enforced by the Eyes, Voice, and Gesture of the Speaker, that his very Enemies could not refrain from Tears. I insist, says _Tully_, upon this the rather, because our Orators, who are as it were Actors of the Truth it self, have quitted this manner of speaking; and the Players, who are but the Imitators of Truth, have taken it up.
I shall therefore pursue the Hint he has here given me, and for the Service of the _British Stage_ I shall copy some of the Rules which this great _Roman_ Master has laid down; yet, without confining my self wholly to his Thoughts or Words: and to adapt this Essay the more to the Purpose for which I intend it, instead of the Examples he has inserted in his Discourse, out of the ancient Tragedies, I shall make use of parallel Passages out of the most celebrated of our own.
The Design of Art is to assist Action as much as possible in the Representation of Nature; for the Appearance of Reality is that which moves us in all Representations, and these have always the greater Force, the nearer they approach to Nature, and the less they shew of Imitation.
Nature herself has assigned to every Emotion of the Soul, its peculiar Cast of the Countenance, Tone of Voice, and Manner of Gesture; and the whole Person, all the Features of the Face and Tones of the Voice, answer, like Strings upon musical Instruments, to the Impressions made on them by the Mind. Thus the Sounds of the Voice, according to the various Touches which raise them, form themselves into an Acute or Grave, Quick or Slow, Loud or Soft Tone. These too may be subdivided into various kinds of Tones, as the gentle, the rough, the contracted, the diffuse, the continued, the intermitted, the broken, abrupt, winding, softned, or elevated. Every one of these may be employed with Art and Judgment; and all supply the Actor, as Colours do the Painter, with an expressive Variety.
Anger exerts its peculiar Voice in an acute, raised, and hurrying sound. The passionate Character of _King Lear_, as it is admirably drawn by _Shakespear_, abounds with the strongest Instances of this kind.
‘–Death! Confusion!
Fiery!–what Quality?–why_ Gloster! Gloster! I’d speak with the Duke of_ Cornwall _and his Wife. Are they informed of this? My Breath and Blood! Fiery? the fiery Duke?–&c.’
Sorrow and Complaint demand a Voice quite different, flexible, slow, interrupted, and modulated in a mournful Tone; as in that pathetical Soliloquy of Cardinal _Wolsey_ on his Fall.
‘Farewel!–a long Farewel to all my Greatness! This is the State of Man!–to-day he puts forth The tender Leaves of Hopes; to-morrow Blossoms, And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him, The third Day comes a Frost, a killing Frost, And when he thinks, good easie Man, full surely His Greatness is a ripening, nips his Root, And then he falls as I do.’
We have likewise a fine Example of this in the whole Part of _Andromache_ in the ‘Distrest-Mother’, particularly in these Lines.
‘I’ll go, and in the Anguish of my Heart Weep o’er my Child–If he must die, my Life Is wrapt in his, I shall not long survive. ‘Tis for his sake that I have suffer’d Life, Groan’d in Captivity, and out-liv’d Hector. Yes, my_ Astyanax, _we’ll go together!
Together to the Realms of Night we’ll go; } There to thy ravish’d Eyes thy Sire I’ll show,} And point him out among the Shades below.’ }
Fear expresses it self in a low, hesitating and abject Sound. If the Reader considers the following Speech of _Lady Macbeth_, while her husband is about the Murder of _Duncan_ and his Grooms, he will imagine her even affrighted with the Sound of her own Voice, while she is speaking it.
‘Alas! I am afraid they have awak’d, And ’tis not done; th’ Attempt, and not the Deed, Confounds us–Hark!–I laid the Daggers ready, He could not miss them. Had he not resembled My Father as he slept, I had done it.’
Courage assumes a louder tone, as in that Speech of Don _Sebastian_. [3]
‘Here satiate all your Fury:
Let Fortune empty her whole Quiver on me, I have a Soul that like an ample Shield Can take in all, and Verge enough for more.’
Pleasure dissolves into a luxurious, mild, tender, and joyous Modulation; as in the following Lines in ‘Caius Marius’. [4]
‘_Lavinia! _O there’s Musick in the Name, That softning me to infant Tenderness,
Makes my Heart spring, like the first Leaps of Life.’
And Perplexity is different from all these; grave, but not bemoaning, with an earnest uniform Sound of Voice; as in that celebrated Speech of _Hamlet_.
‘To be, or not to be?–that is the Question: Whether ’tis nobler in the Mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of Troubles, And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep; No more; and by a Sleep to say we end
The Heart-ach, and the thousand natural Shocks That Flesh is Heir to; ’tis a Consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep– To sleep; perchance to dream! Ay, there’s the Rub. For in that sleep of Death what Dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this Mortal Coil, Must give us pause–There’s the Respect That makes Calamity of so long Life;
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of Time, Th’ Oppressor’s Wrongs, the proud Man’s contumely, The Pangs of despis’d Love, the Law’s Delay, The Insolence of Office, and the Spurns That patient Merit of th’ unworthy takes, When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardles bear, To groan and sweat under a weary Life?
But that the Dread of something after Death, The undiscover’d Country, from whose Bourn No Traveller returns, puzzles the Will, And makes us rather chuse those Ills we have, Than fly to others that–we know not of.’
As all these Varieties of Voice are to be directed by the Sense, so the Action is to be directed by the Voice, and with a beautiful Propriety, as it were to enforce it. The Arm, which by a strong Figure _Tully_ calls _The Orator’s Weapon_, is to be sometimes raised and extended; and the Hand, by its Motion, sometimes to lead, and sometimes to follow the Words, as they are uttered. The Stamping of the Foot too has its proper Expression in Contention, Anger, or absolute Command. But the Face is the Epitome of the whole Man, and the Eyes are as it were the Epitome of the Face; for which Reason, he says, the best Judges among the _Romans_ were not extremely pleased, even with _Roscius_ himself in his Masque. No Part of the Body, besides the Face, is capable of as many Changes as there are different Emotions in the Mind, and of expressing them all by those Changes. Nor is this to be done without the Freedom of the Eyes; therefore _Theophrastus_ call’d one, who barely rehearsed his Speech with his Eyes fix’d, an _absent Actor_.
As the Countenance admits of so great Variety, it requires also great Judgment to govern it. Not that the Form of the Face is to be shifted on every Occasion, lest it turn to Farce and Buffoonery; but it is certain that the Eyes have a wonderful Power of marking the Emotions of the Mind, sometimes by a stedfast Look, sometimes by a careless one, now by a sudden Regard, then by a joyful Sparkling, as the Sense of the Words is diversified: for Action is, as it were, the Speech of the Features and Limbs, and must therefore conform itself always to the Sentiments of the Soul. And it may be observed, that in all which relates to the Gesture, there is a wonderful Force implanted by Nature, since the Vulgar, the Unskilful, and even the most Barbarous are chiefly affected by this. None are moved by the Sound of Words, but those who understand the Language; and the Sense of many things is lost upon Men of a dull Apprehension: but Action is a kind of Universal Tongue; all Men are subject to the same Passions, and consequently know the same Marks of them in others, by which they themselves express them.
Perhaps some of my Readers may be of Opinion, that the Hints I have here made use of, out of _Cicero_, are somewhat too refined for the Players on our Theatre: In answer to which, I venture to lay it down as a Maxim, that without Good Sense no one can be a good Player, and that he is very unfit to personate the Dignity of a _Roman_ Hero, who cannot enter into the Rules for Pronunciation and Gesture delivered by a _Roman_ Orator.
There is another thing which my Author does not think too minute to insist on, though it is purely mechanical: and that is the right _pitching_ of the Voice. On this occasion he tells the Story of _Gracchus_, who employed a Servant with a little Ivory Pipe to stand behind him, and give him the right Pitch, as often as he wandered too far from the proper Modulation. Every Voice, says _Tully_, [5] has its particular Medium and Compass, and the Sweetness of Speech consists in leading it through all the Variety of Tones naturally, and without touching any Extreme. Therefore, says he,
‘Leave the Pipe at home, but carry the Sense of this Custom with you.’
[Footnote 1: Action_ and _Pronunciation.]
[Footnote 2: Dramatical, and in first reprint.]
[Footnote 3: Dryden’s.]
[Footnote 4: Otway’s.]
[Footnote 5: Near the end of the De Oratore.]
* * * * *
No. 542. Friday, November 21, 1712. Addison.
‘Et sibi praeferri se gaudet.’
Ovid.
When I have been present in Assemblies where my Paper has been talked of, I have been very well pleased to hear those who would detract from the Author of it observe, that the Letters which are sent to the _Spectator_ are as good, if not better than any of his Works. Upon this Occasion many Letters of Mirth are usually mentioned, which some think the _Spectator_ writ to himself, and which others commend because they fancy he received them from his Correspondents: Such are those from the _Valetudinarian;_ the Inspector of the Sign-Posts; the Master of the Fan-Exercise: with that of the Hoop’d Petticoat; that of _Nicholas Hart_ the annual Sleeper; that from Sir _John Envill;_ that upon the _London_ Cries; with multitudes of the same nature. As I love nothing more than to mortify the Ill-natured, that I may do it effectually, I must acquaint them, they have very often praised me when they did not design it, and that they have approved my Writings when they thought they had derogated from them. I have heard several of these unhappy Gentlemen proving, by undeniable Arguments, that I was not able to pen a Letter which I had written the Day before. Nay, I have heard some of them throwing out ambiguous Expressions, and giving the Company reason to suspect that they themselves did me the Honour to send me such or such a particular Epistle, which happened to be talked of with the Esteem or Approbation of those who were present. These rigid Criticks are so afraid of allowing me any thing which does not belong to me, that they will not be positive whether the Lion, the wild Boar, and the Flower-pots in the Play-house, did not actually write those Letters which came to me in their Names. I must therefore inform these Gentlemen, that I often chuse this way of casting my Thoughts into a Letter, for the following Reasons; First, out of the Policy of those who try their Jest upon another, before they own it themselves. Secondly, because I would extort a little Praise from such who will never applaud any thing whose Author is known and certain. Thirdly, because it gave me an Opportunity of introducing a great variety of Characters into my Work, which could not have been done, had I always written in the Person of the _Spectator_. Fourthly, because the Dignity Spectatorial would have suffered, had I published as from my self those several ludicrous Compositions which I have ascribed to fictitious Names and Characters. And lastly, because they often serve to bring in, more naturally, such additional Reflections as have been placed at the End of them.
There are others who have likewise done me a very particular Honour, though undesignedly. These are such who will needs have it, that I have translated or borrowed many of my Thoughts out of Books which are written in other Languages. I have heard of a Person, who is more famous for his Library than his Learning, that has asserted this more than once in his private Conversation. Were it true, I am sure he could not speak it from his own Knowledge; but had he read the Books which he has collected, he would find this Accusation to be wholly groundless. Those who are truly learned will acquit me in this Point, in which I have been so far from offending, that I have been scrupulous perhaps to a Fault in quoting the Authors of several Passages which I might have made my own. But as this Assertion is in reality an Encomium on what I have published, I ought rather to glory in it, than endeavour to confute it.
Some are so very willing to alienate from me that small Reputation which might accrue to me from any of these my Speculations, that they attribute some of the best of them to those imaginary Manuscripts with which I have introduced them. There are others, I must confess, whose Objections have given me a greater Concern, as they seem to reflect, under this Head, rather on my Morality than on my Invention. These are they who say an Author is guilty of Falshood, when he talks to the Publick of Manuscripts which he never saw, or describes Scenes of Action or Discourse in which he was never engaged. But these Gentlemen would do well to consider, there is not a Fable or Parable which ever was made use of, that is not liable to this Exception; since nothing; according to this Notion, can be related innocently, which was not once Matter of Fact. Besides, I think the most ordinary Reader may be able to discover, by my way of writing, what I deliver in these Occurrences as Truth, and what as Fiction.
Since I am unawares engaged in answering the several Objections which have been made against these my Works, I must take Notice that there are some who affirm a Paper of this Nature should always turn upon diverting Subjects, and others who find Fault with every one of them that hath not an immediate Tendency to the Advancement of Religion or Learning. I shall leave these Gentlemen to dispute it out among themselves; since I see one half of my Conduct patronized by each side. Were I serious on an improper Subject, or trifling in a serious one, I should deservedly draw upon me the Censure of my Readers; or were I conscious of any thing in my Writings that is not innocent at least, or that the greatest part of them were not sincerely designed to discountenance Vice and Ignorance, and support the Interest of true Wisdom and Virtue, I should be more severe upon my self than the Publick is disposed to be. In the mean while I desire my Reader to consider every particular Paper or Discourse as a distinct Tract by itself, and independent of every thing that goes before or after it.
I shall end this Paper with the following Letter, which was really sent me, as some others have been which I have published, and for which I must own my self indebted to their respective Writers.
SIR,
I was this Morning in a Company of your Well-wishers, when we read over, with great Satisfaction, _Tully’s_ Observations on Action adapted to the _British_ Theatre: Though, by the way, we were very sorry to find that you have disposed of another Member of your Club. Poor Sir _Roger_ is dead, and the worthy Clergyman dying. Captain _Sentry_ has taken Possession of a fair Estate; _Will. Honeycomb_ has married a Farmer’s Daughter; and the _Templar_ withdraws himself into the Business of his own Profession. What will all this end in? We are afraid it portends no Good to the Publick. Unless you very speedily fix a Day for the Election of new Members, we are under Apprehensions of losing the _British Spectator_. I hear of a Party of Ladies who intend to address you on this Subject, and question not, if you do not give us the Slip very suddenly, that you will receive Addresses from all Parts of the Kingdom to continue so useful a Work. Pray deliver us out of this Perplexity, and among the Multitude of your Readers you will particularly oblige
_Your most Sincere Friend and Servant,_
Philo-Spec.
O.
* * * * *
No. 543. Saturday, November 22, 1712. Addison.
‘–Facies non omnibus una
Nec diversa tamen–‘
Ov.
Those who were skillful in Anatomy among the Ancients, concluded from the outward and inward Make of an Human Body, that it was the Work of a Being transcendently Wise and Powerful. As the World grew more enlightened in this Art, their Discoveries gave them fresh Opportunities of admiring the Conduct of Providence in the Formation of an Human Body. _Galen_ was converted by his Dissections, and could not but own a Supreme Being upon a Survey of this his Handy-work. There were, indeed, many Parts of which the old Anatomists did not know the certain Use; but as they saw that most of those which they examined were adapted with admirable Art to their several Functions, they did not question but those, whose Uses they could not determine, were contrived with the same Wisdom for respective Ends and Purposes. Since the Circulation of the Blood has been found out, and many other great Discoveries have been made by our modern Anatomists, we see new Wonders in the Human Frame, and discern several important Uses for those Parts, which Uses the Ancients knew nothing of. In short, the Body of Man is such a Subject as stands the utmost Test of Examination. Though it appears formed with the nicest Wisdom, upon the most superficial Survey of it, it still mends upon the Search, and produces our Surprize and Amazement in proportion as we pry into it. What I have here said of an Human Body, may be applied to the Body of every Animal which has been the Subject of Anatomical Observations.
The Body of an Animal is an Object adequate to our Senses. It is a particular System of Providence, that lies in a narrow Compass. The Eye is able to command it, and by successive Enquiries can search into all its Parts. Could the Body of the whole Earth, or indeed the whole Universe, be thus submitted to the Examination of our Senses, were it not too big and disproportioned for our Enquiries, too unwieldy for the Management of the Eye and Hand, there is no question but it would appear to us as curious and well-contrived a Frame as that of an Human Body. We should see the same Concatenation and Subserviency, the same Necessity and Usefulness, the same Beauty and Harmony in all and every of its Parts, as what we discover in the Body of every single Animal.
The more extended our Reason is, and the more able to grapple with immense Objects, the greater still are those Discoveries which it makes of Wisdom and Providence in the Work of the Creation. A Sir _Isaac Newton_, who stands up as the Miracle of the Present Age, can look through a whole Planetary System; consider it in its Weight, Number, and Measure; and draw from it as many Demonstrations of infinite Power and Wisdom, as a more confined Understanding is able to deduce from the System of an Human Body.
But to return to our Speculations on Anatomy. I shall here consider the Fabrick and Texture of the Bodies of Animals in one particular View; which, in my Opinion, shews the Hand of a thinking and all-wise Being in their Formation, with the Evidence of a thousand Demonstrations. I think we may lay this down as an incontested Principle, that Chance never acts in a perpetual Uniformity and Consistence with it self. If one should always fling the same number with ten thousand Dice, or see every Throw just five times less, or five times more in Number than the Throw which immediately preceded it, who would not imagine there is some invisible Power which directs the Cast? This is the Proceeding which we find in the Operations of Nature. Every kind of Animal is diversified by different Magnitudes, each of which gives rise to a different Species. Let a Man trace the Dog or Lion-Kind, and he will observe how many of the Works of Nature are published, if I may use the Expression, in a variety of Editions. If we look into the Reptile World, or into those different Kinds of Animals that fill the Element of Water, we meet with the same Repetitions among several Species, that differ very little from one another, but in Size and Bulk. You find the same Creature that is drawn at large, copied out in several Proportions, and ending in Miniature. It would be tedious to produce Instances of this regular Conduct in Providence, as it would be superfluous to those who are versed in the natural History of Animals. The magnificent Harmony of the Universe is such, that we may observe innumerable _Divisions_ running upon the same _Ground_. I might also extend this Speculation to the dead Parts of Nature, in which we may find Matter disposed into many _similar_ Systems, as well in our Survey of Stars and Planets, as of Stones, Vegetables, and other sublunary Parts of the Creation. In a Word, Providence has shewn the Richness of its Goodness and Wisdom, not only in the Production of many Original Species, but in the Multiplicity of Descants which it has made on every Original Species in particular.
But to pursue this Thought still farther; Every living Creature, considered in it self, has many very complicated Parts, that are exact copies of some other Parts which it possesses, and which are complicated in the same Manner. One _Eye_ would have been sufficient for the Subsistence and Preservation of an Animal; but in order to better his Condition, we see another placed with a Mathematical Exactness in the same most advantageous Situation, and in every particular of the same Size and Texture. Is it possible for Chance to be thus delicate and uniform in her Operations? Should a Million of Dice turn up twice together the same Number, the Wonder would be nothing in comparison with this. But when we see this Similitude and Resemblance in the Arm, the Hand, the Fingers; when we see one half of the Body entirely correspond with the other in all those minute Strokes, without which a Man might have very well subsisted; nay, when we often see a single Part repeated an hundred times in the same Body, notwithstanding it consists of the most intricate weaving of numberless Fibres, and these Parts differing still in Magnitude, as the Convenience of their particular Situation requires; sure a Man must have a strange Cast of Understanding, who does not discover the Finger of God in so wonderful a Work. These Duplicates in those Parts of the Body, without which a Man might have very well subsisted, though not so well as with them, are a plain Demonstration of an all-wise Contriver; as those more numerous Copyings, which are found among the Vessels of the same Body, are evident Demonstrations that they could not be the Work of Chance. This Argument receives additional Strength, if we apply it to every Animal and Insect within our Knowledge, as well as to those numberless living Creatures that are Objects too minute for a Human Eye; and if we consider how the several Species in this whole World of Life resemble one another in very many Particulars, so far as is convenient for their respective States of Existence; it is much more probable that an hundred Million of Dice should be casually thrown a hundred Million of Times in the same number, than that the Body of any single Animal should be produced by the fortuitous Concourse of Matter. And that the like Chance should arise in innumerable Instances, requires a degree of Credulity that is not under the direction of Common Sense. [We may carry this Consideration yet further, if we reflect on the two Sexes in every living Species, with their Resemblances to each other, and those particular Distinctions that were necessary for the keeping up of this great World of Life.]
There are many more Demonstrations of a Supreme Being, and of his transcendent Wisdom, Power, and Goodness in the Formation of the Body of a living Creature, for which I refer my Reader to other Writings, particularly to the Sixth Book of the Poem, entitled Creation, [1] where the Anatomy of the human Body is described with great Perspicuity and Elegance. I have been particular on the Thought which runs through this Speculation, because I have not seen it enlarged upon by others.
O.
[Footnote 1: Blackmore’s.]
* * * * *
No. 544. Monday, November 24, 1712. Steele.
‘Nunquam ita quisquam bene subducta ratione ad vitam fuit Quia res, AEtas usus semper aliquid apportet novi Aliquid moneat, ut illa, quae te scire credas, nescias Et, quae tibi putaris prima, in experiundo ut repudies.’
Ter.
There are, I think, Sentiments in the following Letter from my Friend Captain SENTRY, which discover a rational and equal Frame of Mind, as well prepared for an advantageous as an unfortunate Change of Condition.
_Coverley-Hall, Nov._ 15, _Worcestershire._
_SIR_,
‘I am come to the Succession of the Estate of my honoured Kinsman Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY; and I assure you I find it no easy Task to keep up the Figure of Master of the Fortune which was so handsomely enjoyed by that honest plain Man. I cannot (with respect to the great Obligations I have, be it spoken) reflect upon his Character, but I am confirmed in the Truth which I have, I think, heard spoken at the Club, to wit, That a Man of a warm and well-disposed Heart with a very small Capacity, is highly superior in human Society to him who with the greatest Talents is cold and languid in his Affections. But, alas! why do I make a difficulty in speaking of my worthy Ancestor’s Failings? His little Absurdities and Incapacity for the Conversation of the politest Men are dead with him, and his greater Qualities are even now useful to him. I know not whether by naming those Disabilities I do not enhance his Merit, since he has left behind him a Reputation in his Country which would be worth the Pains of the wisest Man’s whole Life to arrive at. By the way I must observe to you, that many of your Readers have mistook that Passage in your Writings, wherein Sir ROGER is reported to have enquired into the private Character of the young Woman at the Tavern. I know you mentioned that Circumstance as an Instance of the Simplicity and Innocence of his Mind, which made him imagine it a very easy thing to reclaim one of those Criminals, and not as an Inclination in him to be guilty with her. The less discerning of your Readers cannot enter into that Delicacy of Description in the Character: But indeed my chief Business at this time is to represent to you my present State of Mind, and the Satisfactions I promise to my self in the Possession of my new Fortune. I have continued all Sir ROGER’S Servants, except such as it was a Relief to dismiss into little Beings within my Manor: Those who are in a List of the good Knight’s own Hand to be taken care of by me, I have quartered upon such as have taken new Leases of me, and added so many Advantages during the Lives of the Persons so quartered, that it is the Interest of those whom they are joined with, to cherish and befriend them upon all Occasions. I find a considerable Sum of ready Money, which I am laying out among my Dependants at the common Interest, but with a Design to lend it according to their Merit, rather than according to their Ability. I shall lay a Tax upon such as I have highly obliged, to become Security to me for such of their own poor Youth, whether Male or Female, as want Help towards getting into some Being in the World. I hope I shall be able to manage my Affairs so, as to improve my Fortune every Year, by doing Acts of Kindness. I will lend my Money to the Use of none but indigent Men, secured by such as have ceased to be indigent by the Favour of my Family or my self. What makes this the more practicable, is, that if they will do any one Good with my Money, they are welcome to it upon their own Security: And I make no Exception against it, because the Persons who enter into the Obligations, do it for their own Family. I have laid out four thousand Pounds this way, and it is not to be imagined what a Crowd of People are obliged by it. In Cases where Sir ROGER has recommended, I have lent Money to put out Children, with a Clause which makes void the Obligation, in case the Infant dies before he is out of his Apprenticeship; by which means the Kindred and Masters are extremely careful of breeding him to Industry, that he may repay it himself by his Labour, in three Years Journeywork after his Time is out, for the Use of his Securities. Opportunities of this kind are all that have occurred since I came to my Estate; but I assure you I will preserve a constant Disposition to catch at all the Occasions I can to promote the Good and Happiness of my Neighbourhood.
‘But give me leave to lay before you a little Establishment which has grown out of my past Life, that I doubt not, will administer great Satisfaction to me in that Part of it, whatever that is, which is to come.
‘There is a Prejudice in favour of the Way of Life to which a Man has been educated, which I know not whether it would not be faulty to overcome: It is like a Partiality to the Interest of one’s own Country before that of any other Nation. It is from an Habit of Thinking, grown upon me from my Youth spent in Arms, that I have ever held Gentlemen, who have preserved Modesty, Good-nature, Justice, and Humanity in a Soldier’s Life, to be the most valuable and worthy Persons of the human Race. To pass through imminent Dangers, suffer painful Watchings, frightful Alarms, and laborious Marches for the greater part of a Man’s Time, and pass the rest in a Sobriety conformable to the Rules of the most virtuous civil Life, is a Merit too great to deserve the Treatment it usually meets with among the other part of the World. But I assure you, Sir, were there not very many who have this Worth, we could never have seen the glorious Events which we have in our Days. I need not say more to illustrate the Character of a Soldier, than to tell you he is the very contrary to him you observe loud, sawcy, and over-bearing in a red Coat about Town. But I was going to tell you, that in Honour of the Profession of Arms, I have set apart a certain Sum of Money for a Table for such Gentlemen as have served their Country in the Army, and will please from Time to Time to sojourn all, or any Part of the Year, at _Coverley_. Such of them as will do me that Honour, shall find Horses, Servants, and all things necessary for their Accommodation and Enjoyment of all the Conveniences of Life in a pleasant various Country. If Colonel _Camperfelt_ be in Town, and his Abilities are not employ’d another way in the Service, there is no Man would be more welcome here. That Gentleman’s thorough Knowledge in his Profession, together with the Simplicity of his Manners, and Goodness of his Heart, would induce others like him to honour my Abode; and I should be glad my Acquaintance would take themselves to be invited or not, as their Characters have an Affinity to his.
‘I would have all my Friends know, that they need not fear (though I am become a Country Gentleman) I will trespass against their Temperance and Sobriety. No, Sir, I shall retain so much of the good Sentiments for the Conduct of Life, which we cultivated in each other at our Club, as to contemn all inordinate Pleasures: But particularly remember, with our beloved _Tully_, that the Delight in Food consists in Desire, not Satiety. They who most passionately pursue Pleasure, seldomest arrive at it. Now I am writing to a Philosopher, I cannot forbear mentioning the Satisfaction I took in the Passage I read Yesterday in the same _Tully_. A Nobleman of _Athens_ made a Compliment to _Plato_ the Morning after he had supped at his House, _Your Entertainments do not only please when you give them, but also the Day after_.
_I am, My worthy Friend,
Your most obedient humble Servant,_
WILLIAM SENTRY.
* * * * *
No. 545. Tuesday, November 25, 1712. Steele.
‘Quin potius Pacem AEternam pactosque Hymenaeos Exercemus–‘
Virg.
I cannot but think the following Letter from the Emperor of _China_ to the Pope of _Rome_, proposing a Coalition of the _Chinese_ and _Roman_ Churches, will be acceptable to the Curious. I must confess I my self being of opinion that the Emperor has as much Authority to be Interpreter to him he pretends to expound, as the Pope has to be Vicar to the Sacred Person he takes upon him to represent, I was not a little pleased with their Treaty of Alliance. What Progress the Negotiation between his Majesty of _Rome_, and his Holiness of _China_ makes (as we daily Writers say upon Subjects where we are at a Loss) Time will let us know. In the mean time, since they agree in the Fundamentals of Power and Authority, and differ only in Matters of Faith, we may expect the Matter will go on without Difficulty.
Copia di Littera del Re della China al Papa, interpretata dal Padre Segretario dell’ India della Compagna di Giesu. [1]
_A Voi Benedetto sopra i benedetti PP, ed interpretatore grande de Pontifici e Pastore Xmo dispensatore dell’ oglio de i Re d’ Europe Clemente XI._
‘Il Favorite amico di Dio Gionata 7 deg. Potentissimo sopra tutti i potentissimi della terra, Altissmo sopra tutti gl’ Altissmi sotto il sole e la luna, che sede nella sede di smeraldo della China sopra cento scalini d’oro, ad interpretare la lingua di Dio a tutti i descendenti fedeli d’Abramo, che da la vita e la morte a cento quindici regni, ed a cento settante Isole, scrive con la penna dello Struzzo vergine, e manda salute ed accresimento di vecchiezza.
‘Essendo arrivato il tempo in cui il fiore della reale nostro gioventu deve maturare i Frutti della nostra vecchiezza, e confortare con quell i desiderii dei populi nostri divoti, e propogare il seme di quella pianta che deve proteggerli, habbiamo Stabilito d’accompagnarci con una virgine eccelsa ed amorosa allattata alia mammella della leonessa forte e dell’ Agnella mansueta. Percio essendo ci stato figurato sempre il vostro populo Europeo Romano par paese di donne invitte, i forte, e caste; allongiamo la nostra mano potente, a stringere una di loro, e questa sara una vostra nipote, o nipote di qualche altro gran Sacerdote Latino, che sia guardata dall’ occhio dritto di Dio. Sara seminata in lei l’Autorita di Sarra, la Fedelta d’Esther, e la Sapienza di Abba; la vogliamo con l’occhio della colomba che guarda il cielo, e la terra e con la bocca dello Conchiglia che si pasce della ruggiada del matino. La sua eta non passi ducento corsi della Luna, la sua statura sia alta quanto la spicca dritta del grano verde, e la sua grossezza quanto un manipolo di grano secco. Noi la mandaremmo a vestire per li nostri mandatici Ambasciadori, e chi la conduranno a noi, e noi incontraremmo alla riva del fiume grande facendola salire su nostro cocchio. Ella potra adorare appresso di noi il suo Dio, con venti quatro altre vergini a sua ellezzione, e potra cantare con loro come la Tortora alla Primavera.
‘Sodisfando O Padre e amico nostro questa nostro brama, sarete caggione di unire in perpetua amicitia cotesti vostri Regni d’Europa al nostro dominante Imperio, e si abbracciranno le vostri leggi come l’edera abbraccia la pianta, e noi medesemi Spargeremo del nostro seme reale in coteste Provinci, riscaldando i letti di vostri Principi con il fuoco amoroso delle nostre Amazoni, d’alcune delle quali i nostri mandatici Ambasciadori vi porteranno le Somiglianze depinte. Vi Confirmiamo di tenere in pace le due buone religiose famiglie delli Missionarii gli’ Figlioli d’Ignazio, e li bianchi e neri figlioli di Dominico; il cui consiglio degl’ uni e degl’ altri ci serve di scorta nel nostro regimento e di lume ad interpretare le divine Legge come appuncto fa lume l’oglio che si getta in Mare. In tanto Alzandoci dal nostro Trono per Abbracciarvi, vi dichiariamo nostro congiunto e Confederato; ed ordiniamo che questo foglio sia segnato col nostro Segno Imperiale dalla nostra Citta, Capo del Mondo, il quinto giorno della terza lunatione l’anno quarto del nostro Imperio.
‘Sigillo e un sole nelle cui faccia e anche quella della Luna ed intorno tra i Raggi vi sono traposte alcune Spade.
‘Dico il Traduttore che secondo il Ceremonial di questo Lettere e recedentissimo specialmente Fessere scritto con la penna della Struzzo vergine con la quella non soglionsi scrivere quei Re che le pregiere a Dio e scrivendo a qualche altro Principe del Mondo, la maggior Finezza che usino, e scrivergli con la penna del Pavone.
A Letter from the Emperor of _China_ to the Pope, interpreted by a Father Jesuit, Secretary to the _Indies_.
_To you blessed above the Blessed, great Emperor of Bishops, and Pastor of Christians, Dispenser of the Oil of the Kings of Europe_, Clement XI.
“The Favourite Friend of God _Gionnata_ the VIIth, most Powerful above the most Powerful of the Earth, Highest above the Highest under the Sun and Moon, who sits on a Throne of Emerald of _China_, above 100 Steps of Gold, to interpret the Language of God to the faithful, and who gives Life and Death to 115 Kingdoms, and 170 Islands; he writes with the Quill of a Virgin _Ostrich_, and sends Health and Increase of old Age.
“Being arrived at the time of our Age, in which the Flower of our Royal Youth ought to ripen into Fruit towards old Age, to comfort therewith the Desire of our devoted People, and to propagate the Seed of that Plant which must protect them; We have determined to accompany our selves with an high Amorous Virgin, suckled at the Breast of a wild Lioness, and a meek Lamb; and imagining with our selves that your _European Roman_ People is the Father of many unconquerable and chaste Ladies: We stretch out our powerful Arm to embrace one of them, and she shall be one of your Neices, or the Neice of some other great _Latin_ Priest, the Darling of God’s Right Eye. Let the Authority of _Sarah_ be sown in her, the Fidelity of _Esther_, and the Wisdom of _Abba_. We would have her Eye like that of a _Dove_, which may look upon Heaven and Earth, with the Mouth of a Shell-Fish to feed upon the Dew of the Morning; Her Age must not exceed 200 Courses of the Moon; let her Stature be equal to that of an Ear of green Corn, and her Girth a Handful.
“We will send our _Mandarine’s_ Embassadors to clothe her, and to conduct her to us, and we will meet her on the Bank of the great River, making her to leap up into our Chariot. She may with us worship her own God; together with twenty four Virgins of her own chusing; and she may sing with them, as the _Turtle_ in the Spring. You, O Father and Friend, complying with this our Desire, maybe an occasion of uniting in perpetual Friendship our high Empire with your _European_ Kingdoms, and we may embrace your Laws, as the _Ivy_ embraces the Tree; and we our selves may scatter our Royal Blood into your Provinces, warming the chief of your Princes with the amorous Fire of our _Amazons_, the resembling Pictures of some of which our said _Mandarine’s_ Embassadors shall convey to you.
“We exhort you to keep in Peace two good Religious Families of _Missionaries_, the black Sons of _Ignatius_, and the white and black Sons of _Dominicus_; that the Counsel, both of the one and the other, may serve as a Guide to us in our Government, and a Light to interpret the Divine Law, as the Oil cast into the Sea produces Light.
“To conclude, we rising up in our Throne to embrace you, we declare you our Ally and Confederate; and have ordered this Leaf to be sealed with our Imperial Signet, in our Royal City the Head of the World, the 8th Day of the third Lunation, and the 4th Year of our Reign.”
Letters from _Rome_ say, the whole Conversation both among Gentlemen and Ladies has turned upon the Subject of this Epistle, ever since it arrived. The Jesuit who translated it says, it loses much of the Majesty of the Original in the _Italian_. It seems there was an Offer of the same nature made by a Predecessor of the present Emperor to _Lewis_ the XIIIth of France, but no Lady of that Court would take the Voyage, that Sex not being at that time so much used in politick Negotiations. The manner of treating the Pope is, according to the _Chinese_ Ceremonial, very respectful: For the Emperor writes to him with the Quill of a Virgin _Ostrich_, which was never used before but in Writing Prayers. Instructions are preparing for the Lady who shall have so much Zeal as to undertake this Pilgrimage, and be an Empress for the sake of her Religion. The Principal of the _Indian_ Missionaries has given in a List of the reigning Sins in _China_, in order to prepay the Indulgences necessary to this Lady and her Retinue, in advancing the Interests of the _Roman Catholic Religion_ in those Kingdoms.
_To the_ SPECTATOR-GENERAL.
_May it please your Honour_,
‘I have of late seen _French_ Hats, of a prodigious Magnitude, pass by my Observatory.
_John Sly._
T.
[Footnote 1: No suggestion has been made as to the authorship of this squib on the Jesuits in China.]
* * * * *
No. 546. Wednesday, November 26, 1712. Steele.
‘Omnia patefacienda ut ne quid omnino quod venditor norit, emptor ignoret.’
Tull.
It gives me very great Scandal to observe, where-ever I go, how much Skill, in buying all manner of Goods, there is necessary to defend yourself from being cheated in whatever you see exposed to Sale. My Reading makes such a strong impression upon me, that I should think my self a Cheat in my Way, if I should translate any thing from another Tongue, and not acknowledge it to my Readers. I understood from common Report, that Mr. _Cibber_ was introducing a _French_ Play upon our Stage, and thought my self concerned to let the Town know what was his, and what foreign. [1] When I came to the Rehearsal, I found the House so partial to one of their own Fraternity, that they gave every thing which was said such Grace, Emphasis, and Force in their Action, that it was no easy matter to make any Judgment of the Performance. Mrs. _Oldfield_, who, it seems, is the Heroick Daughter, had so just a Conception of her Part, that her Action made what she spoke appear decent, just, and noble. The Passions of Terrour and Compassion, they made me believe were very artfully raised, and the whole Conduct of the Play artful and surprizing. We Authors do not much relish the Endeavours of Players in this kind; but have the same Disdain as Physicians and Lawyers have when Attorneys and Apothecaries give Advice. _Cibber_ himself took the liberty to tell me, that he expected I would do him Justice, and allow the Play well-prepared for his Spectators, whatever it was for his Readers. He added very many Particulars not uncurious concerning the manner of taking an Audience, and laying wait not only for their superficial Applause, but also for insinuating into their Affections and Passions, by the artful Management of the Look, Voice, and Gesture of the Speaker. I could not but consent that the Heroick Daughter appeared in the Rehearsal a moving Entertainment wrought out of a great and exemplary Virtue.
The Advantages of Action, Show, and Dress on these Occasions are allowable, because the Merit consists in being capable of imposing upon us to our Advantage and Entertainment. All that I was going to say about the Honesty of an Author in the Sale of his Ware, was that he ought to own all that he had borrowed from others, and lay in a clear light all that he gives his Spectators for their Money, with an Account of the first Manufacturers. But I intended to give the Lecture of this Day upon the common and prostituted Behaviour of Traders in ordinary Commerce. The Philosopher made it a Rule of Trade, that your Profit ought to be the common Profit; and it is unjust to make any Step towards Gain, wherein the Gain of even those to whom you sell is not also consulted. A Man may deceive himself if he thinks fit, but he is no better than a Cheat who sells any thing without telling the Exceptions against it, as well as what is to be said to its Advantage. The scandalous abuse of Language and hardening of Conscience, which may be observed every Day in going from one Place to another, is what makes a whole City to an unprejudiced Eye a Den of Thieves. It was no small pleasure to me for this reason to remark, as I passed by _Cornhill_, that the Shop of that worthy, honest, tho’ lately unfortunate, Citizen, Mr. _John Moreton_, [2] so well known in the Linnen Trade, is fitting up a-new. Since a Man has been in a distressed Condition, it ought to be a great Satisfaction to have passed thro’ it in such a Manner as not to have lost the Friendship of those who suffered with him, but to receive an honourable Acknowledgment of his Honesty from those very Persons to whom the Law had consigned his Estate.
The Misfortune of this Citizen is like to prove of a very general Advantage to those who shall deal with him hereafter: For the Stock with which he now sets up being the Loan of his Friends, he cannot expose that to the Hazard of giving Credit, but enters into a Ready-Money Trade, by which Means he will both buy and sell the best and cheapest. He imposes upon himself a Rule of affixing the Value of each Piece he sells to the Piece it self; so that the most ignorant Servant or Child will be as good a Buyer at his Shop as the most skilful in the Trade. For all which, you have all his Hopes and Fortune for your Security. To encourage Dealing after this Way, there is not only the avoiding the most infamous Guilt in ordinary Bartering; but this Observation, That he who buys with ready Money saves as much to his Family, as the State exacts out of his Land for the Security and Service of his Country; that is to say, in plain _English_, Sixteen will do as much as Twenty Shillings.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘My Heart is so swelled with grateful Sentiments on account of some Favours which I have lately received, that I must beg leave to give them Utterance amongst the Croud of other anonymous Correspondents; and writing, I hope, will be as great a Relief to my forced Silence, as it is to your natural Taciturnity–My generous Benefactor will not suffer me to speak to him in any Terms of Acknowledgment, but ever treats me as if he had the greatest Obligations, and uses me with a Distinction that is not to be expected from one so much my Superiour in Fortune, Years, and Understanding. He insinuates, as if I had a certain Right to his Favours from some Merit, which his particular Indulgence to me has discovered but that is only a beautiful Artifice to lessen the Pain an honest Mind feels in receiving Obligations, when there is no probability of returning them.
‘A gift is doubled when accompanied with such a Delicacy of Address; but what to me gives it an inexpressible Value, is its coming from the Man I most esteem in the World. It pleases me indeed, as it is an Advantage and Addition to my Fortune; but when I consider it is an Instance of that good Man’s Friendship, it overjoys, it transports me; I look on it with a Lover’s Eye, and no longer regard the Gift, but the Hand that gave it. For my Friendship is so entirely void of any gainful Views, that it often gives me Pain to think it should have been chargeable to him; and I cannot at some melancholy Hours help doing his Generosity the Injury of fearing it should cool on this account, and that the last Favour might be a sort of Legacy of a departing Friendship.
‘I Confess these Fears seem very groundless and unjust, but you must forgive them to the Apprehension of one possessed of a great Treasure, who is frighted at the most distant Shadow of Danger.
‘Since I have thus far open’d my Heart to you, I will not conceal the secret Satisfaction I feel there of knowing the Goodness of my Friend will not be unrewarded. I am pleased with thinking the Providence of the Almighty hath sufficient Blessings in store for him, and will certainly discharge the Debt, though I am not made the happy Instrument of doing it.
‘However, nothing in my power shall be wanting to shew my Gratitude; I will make it the Business of my Life to thank him, and shall esteem (next to him) those my best Friends, who give me greatest Assistance in this good Work. Printing this Letter would be some little Instance of my Gratitude; and your Favour herein will very much oblige
_Your most humble Servant, &c._
W. C.
Nov. 24th.
T.
[Footnote 1: _Ximena_, or the _Heroic Daughter_, a Tragedy taken from the _Cid_ of Corneille, by Colley Gibber. The play was not published until after Steele’s pamphlet, ‘The Crisis,’ had exposed him to political and (as it necessarily followed in those days) personal detraction. Cibber then dedicated his play to Steele, referring to the custom of his calumniators, since they could not deny his literary services, to transfer all the merit of them to Addison, upon whom he had so generously heaped more than the half of his own fame, and said:
“Your Enemies therefore, thus knowing that your own consent had partly justified their insinuations, saved a great deal of their malice from being ridiculous, and fairly left you to apply to such your singular conduct what Mark Antony says of Octavius in the play:
‘Fool that I was! upon my Eagle’s wings I bore this Wren, ’till I was tired with soaring, And now, he mounts above me.'”
True-hearted Steele never read his relation to his friend in this fashion. With how fine a disregard of conventional dignity is the latter part of this paper given by Steele to the kind effort to help in setting a fallen man upon his legs again!]
[Footnote 2: See No. 248. To this Mr. Moreton was addressed the letter signed W. S., from Sir William Scawen.]
* * * * *
No. 547. Thursday, November 27, 1712. Addison.
‘Si vulnus tibi monstrata radice vel herba Non fieret levius, fugeres radice vel herba Proficiente nihil curarier–‘
Hor.
It is very difficult to praise a Man without putting him out of Countenance. My following Correspondent has found out this uncommon Art, and, together with his Friends, has celebrated some of my Speculations after such a concealed but diverting manner, that if any of my Readers think I am to blame in Publishing my own Commendations, they will allow I should have deserved their Censure as much, had I suppressed the Humour in which they are convey’d to me.
_SIR,_
‘I am often in a private Assembly of Wits of both Sexes, where we generally descant upon your Speculations, or upon the Subjects on which you have treated. We were last _Tuesday_ talking of those two Volumes which you have lately published. Some were commending one of your Papers, and some another; and there was scarce a single Person in the Company that had not a favourite Speculation. Upon this a Man of Wit and Learning told us, he thought it would not be amiss if we paid the _Spectator_ the same Compliment that is often made in our publick Prints to Sir _William Read_, Dr. _Grant_, Mr. _Moor_ the Apothecary; [1] and other eminent Physicians, where it is usual for the Patients to publish the Cures which have been made upon them, and the several Distempers under which they laboured. The Proposal took, and the Lady where we visited having the two last Volumes in large Paper interleav’d for her own private use, ordered them to be brought down, and laid in the Window, whither every one in the Company retired, and writ down a particular Advertisement in the Style and Phrase of the like ingenious Compositions which we frequently meet with at the end of our News-Papers. When we had finish’d our Work, we read them with a great deal of Mirth at the Fire-side, and agreed, _Nemine contradicente_, to get them transcrib’d, and sent to the _Spectator_. The Gentleman who made the Proposal enter’d the following Advertisement before the Title-Page, after which the rest succeeded in order.
_Remedium efficax et universum_; or, An effectual Remedy adapted to all Capacities; shewing how any Person may Cure himself of Ill-Nature, Pride, Party-Spleen, or any other Distemper incident to the human System, with an easie way to know when the Infection is upon him. This Panacea is as innocent as Bread, agreeable to the Taste, and requires no Confinement. It has not its Equal in the Universe, as Abundance of the Nobility and Gentry throughout the Kingdom have experienced.
N. B. ‘No Family ought to be without it.
_Over the two_ Spectators _on Jealousy, being the two first in the third Volume._
I _William Crazy_, aged Threescore and seven, having been for several Years afflicted with uneasie Doubts, Fears and Vapours, occasion’d by the Youth and Beauty of _Mary_ my Wife, aged twenty five, do hereby for the Benefit of the Publick give Notice, that I have found great Relief from the two following Doses, having taken them two Mornings together with a Dish of Chocolate. Witness my Hand, &c.
_For the Benefit of the Poor._
‘In charity to such as are troubled with the Disease of Levee- Haunting, and are forced to seek their Bread every Morning at the Chamber Doors of great Men, I _A. B._ do testifie, that for many Years past I laboured under this fashionable Distemper, but was cured of it by a Remedy which I bought of Mrs. _Baldwin_, contain’d in an Half-Sheet of Paper, marked No. 193. where any one may be provided with the same Remedy at the price of a single Penny.
An infallible Cure for _Hypocondriack Melancholys_.
No. 173. 184. 191. 203. 209. 221. 233. 235. 239. 245. 247. 251.
Probatum est. _Charles Easy_.
‘I _Christopher Query_ having been troubled with a certain Distemper in my Tongue, which shewed it self in impertinent and superfluous Interrogatories, have not asked one unnecessary Question since my Perusal of the Prescription marked No. 228.
‘The _Britannick Beautifyer_, being an Essay on Modesty, No. 231. which gives such a delightful Blushing Colour to the Cheeks of those that are White or Pale, that it is not to be distinguished from a natural fine Complection, nor perceived to be artificial by the nearest Friend: Is nothing of Paint, or in the least hurtful. It renders the Face delightfully handsome; is not subject to be rubbed off, and cannot be parallelled by either Wash, Powder, Cosmetick, &c. It is certainly the best Beautifier in the World.
_Martha Gloworm._
‘I _Samuel Self_, of the Parish of _St. James’s_, having a Constitution which naturally abounds with Acids, made use of a Paper of Directions marked No. 177. recommending a healthful Exercise called _Good-Nature_, and have found it a most excellent Sweetner of the Blood.
‘Whereas I, _Elizabeth Rainbow_, was troubled with that Distemper in my Head, which about a Year ago was pretty Epidemical among the Ladies, and discover’d it self in the Colour of their Hoods, having made use of the Doctor’s Cephalick Tincture, which he exhibited to the Publick in one of his last Year’s Papers, I recover’d in a very few Days.
‘I _George Gloom_ have for a long time been troubled with the Spleen, and being advis’d by my Friends to put my self into a Course of Steele, did for that end make use of Remedies convey’d to me several Mornings, in short Letters, from the Hands of the invisible Doctor. They were marked at the bottom _Nathaniel Henroost, Alice Threadneedle, Rebecca Nettletop, Tom. Loveless, Mary Meanwell, Thomas Smoaky, Anthony Freeman, Tom Meggot, Rustick Sprightly,_ &c. which have had so good an Effect upon me, that I now find my self chearful, lightsome and easie; and therefore do recommend them to all such as labour under the same Distemper.
Not having room to insert all the Advertisements which were sent me, I have only picked out some few from the Third Volume, reserving the Fourth for another Opportunity.
O.
[Footnote 1: Sir William Read, a doctor who could hardly read, was one of the most pertinacious advertisers of his time. He advertised in the _Tatler_ that he had been 35 years in the practice of
‘couching cataracts, taking off all sorts of wens, curing wry necks and _hair_ lips without blemish, though never so deformed.’
His wife assisted him, and after his death carried on his business, advertising that,
‘The Lady Read, in Durham Yard, in the Strand, having obtained a peculiar method of couching cataracts and curing all diseases of the eyes, by Sir William Read’s method and medicines, and having had above 15 years’ experience … Note. Sir William Read has left only with his lady the true receipt of his Styptich Water,’ &c., &c.
Dr. Grant was another advertising oculist, illiterate and celebrated, originally a tinker or cobbler, afterwards a Baptist preacher in Southwark.
Mr. Moore sold a powder which, according to his advertisements, brought off worms of incredible length.]
* * * * *
No. 548. Friday, November 28, 1712. [1]
‘–Vitiis nemo sine nascitur, optimus illo Qui minimis urgetur–‘
Hor.
_Nov._ 27, 1712.
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘I have read this Day’s Paper with a great deal of Pleasure, and could send you an Account of several Elixirs and Antidotes in your third Volume, which your Correspondents have not taken Notice of in their Advertisements; and at the same time must own to you, that I have seldom seen a Shop furnished with such a Variety of Medicaments, and in which there are fewer Soporifics. The several Vehicles you have invented for conveying your unacceptable Truths to us, are what I most particularly admire, as I am afraid they are Secrets which will die with you. I do not find that any of your Critical Essays are taken Notice of in this Paper, notwithstanding I look upon them to be excellent Cleansers of the Brain, and could venture to superscribe them with an Advertisement which I have lately seen in one of our News-Papers, wherein there is an Account given of a Sovereign Remedy for restoring the Taste of all such Persons whose Palates have been vitiated by Distempers, unwholesome Food, or any the like Occasions. But to let fall the Allusion, notwithstanding your Criticisms, and particularly the Candour which you have discovered in them, are not the least taking Part of your Works, I find your Opinion concerning _Poetical Justice_, as it is expressed in the first Part of your Fortieth _Spectator_, is controverted by some eminent Criticks; and as you now seem, to our great Grief of Heart, to be winding up your Bottoms, I hoped you would have enlarged a little upon that Subject. It is indeed but a single Paragraph in your Works, and I believe those who have read it with the same Attention I have done, will think there is nothing to be objected against it. I have however drawn up some additional Arguments to strengthen the Opinion which you have there delivered, having endeavoured to go to the Bottom of that Matter, which you may either publish or suppress as you think fit.
‘_Horace_ in my Motto says, that all Men are vicious, and that they differ from one another, only as they are more or less so. _Boileau_ has given the same Account of our Wisdom, as _Horace_ has of our Virtue.
‘Tous les homines sont fous, et, malgre tous leurs soins, Ne different entre eux, que du plus et du moins.’
All Men, says he, are Fools, and, in spite of their Endeavours to the contrary, differ from one another only as they are more or less so.
‘Two or three of the old _Greek_ Poets have given the same turn to a Sentence which describes the Happiness of Man in this Life;
[Greek: To zaen alypos, andros esti eutuchous]
‘That Man is most happy who is the least miserable.
‘It will not perhaps be unentertaining to the Polite Reader to observe how these three beautiful Sentences are formed upon different Subjects by the same way of thinking; but I shall return to the first of them.
‘Our Goodness being of a comparative, and not an absolute nature, there is none who in strictness can be called a Virtuous Man. Every one has in him a natural Alloy, tho’ one may be fuller of Dross than another: For this reason I cannot think it right to introduce a perfect or a faultless Man upon the Stage; not only because such a Character is improper to move Compassion, but because there is no such a thing in Nature. This might probably be one Reason why the SPECTATOR in one of his Papers took notice of that late invented Term called _Poetical Justice_, and the wrong Notions into which it has led some Tragick Writers. The most perfect Man has Vices enough to draw down Punishments upon his Head, and to justify Providence in regard to any Miseries that may befal him. For this reason I cannot think, but that the Instruction and Moral are much finer, where a Man who is virtuous in the main of his Character falls into Distress, and sinks under the Blows of Fortune at the End of a Tragedy, than when he is represented as Happy and Triumphant. Such an Example corrects the Insolence of Human Nature, softens the Mind of the Beholder with Sentiments of Pity and Compassion, comforts him under his own private Affliction, and teaches him not to judge Mens Virtues by their Successes. I cannot think of one real Hero in all Antiquity so far raised above Human Infirmities, that he might not be very naturally represented in a Tragedy as plunged in Misfortunes and Calamities. The Poet may still find out some prevailing Passion or Indiscretion in his Character, and shew it in such a Manner, as will sufficiently acquit the Gods of any Injustice in his Sufferings. For as _Horace_ observes in my Text, the best Man is faulty, tho’ not in so great a degree as those whom we generally call vicious Men.
‘If such a strict Poetical Justice, as some Gentlemen insist upon, was to be observed in this Art, there is no manner of Reason why it should not extend to Heroick Poetry, as well as Tragedy. But we find it so little observed in _Homer_, that his _Achilles_ is placed in the greatest point of Glory and Success, though his Character is Morally Vicious, and only Poetically Good, if I may use the Phrase of our modern Criticks. The _AEneid_ is filled with Innocent, unhappy Persons. _Nisus_ and _Eurialus, Lausus_ and _Pallas_ come all to unfortunate Ends. The Poet takes Notice in particular, that in the Sacking of _Troy, Ripheus_ fell, who was the most just Man among the _Trojans_.
‘–Cadit et Ripheus justissimus unus, Qui fuit in Teucris et servantissimus AEqui: Dijs aliter visum est–‘
‘And that _Pantheus_ could neither be preserved by his transcendent Piety, nor by the holy Fillets of _Apollo_, whose Priest he was.
‘–nec Te tua plurima Pantheu
Labentem pietas, nec Apollinis infula texit.’
(AEn. 1. 2.)
‘I might here mention the Practice of ancient Tragick Poets, both _Greek_ and _Latin_; but as this Particular is touched upon in the Paper above-mentioned, I shall pass it over in Silence. I could produce Passages out of _Aristotle_ in favour of my Opinion, and if in one Place he says that an absolutely Virtuous Man should not be represented as unhappy, this does not justifie any one who shall think fit to bring in an absolutely virtuous Man upon the Stage. Those who are acquainted with that Author’s Way of Writing, know very well, that to take the whole extent of his Subject into his Divisions of it, he often makes use of such Cases as are imaginary, and not reducible to Practice: He himself declares that such Tragedies as ended unhappily bore away the Prize in Theatrical Contentions, from those which ended happily; and for the Fortieth Speculation, which I am now considering, as it has given Reasons why these are more apt to please an Audience, so it only proves that these are generally preferable to the other, tho’ at the same time it affirms that many excellent Tragedies have and may be written in both kinds.
[‘I shall conclude with observing, that though the _Spectator_ above-mentioned is so far against the Rule of Poetical Justice, as to affirm, that good Men may meet with an unhappy Catastrophe in Tragedy, it does not say that ill Men may go off unpunished. The Reason for this Distinction is very plain, namely, because the best of Men are vicious enough to justify Providence for any Misfortunes and Afflictions which may befal them, but there are many Men so criminal that they can have no Claim or Pretence to Happiness. The best of Men may deserve Punishment, but the worst of Men cannot deserve Happiness.’]
[Footnote 1: Unacknowledged, but doubtless by Addison, who took this indirect way of answering Dennis. Addison’s hand is further shown by the addition made to the reprint.]
* * * * *
No. 549. Saturday, November 29, 1712. Addison.
‘Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici, Laudo tamen–‘
Juv.
I believe most People begin the World with a Resolution to withdraw from it into a serious kind of Solitude or Retirement, when they have made themselves easie in it. Our Unhappiness is, that we find out some Excuse or other for deferring such our good Resolutions till our intended Retreat is cut off by Death. But among all kinds of People there are none who are so hard to part with the World, as those who are grown old in the heaping up of Riches. Their Minds are so warped with their constant Attention to Gain, that it is very difficult for them to give their Souls another Bent, and convert them towards those Objects, which, though they are proper for every Stage of Life, are so more especially for the last. _Horace_ describes an old Usurer as so charmed with the Pleasures of a Country Life, that in order to make a Purchase he called in all his Mony; but what was the Event of it? Why in a very few Days after he put it out again. I am engaged in this Series of Thought by a Discourse which I had last Week with my worthy Friend Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, a Man of so much natural Eloquence, good Sense, and Probity of Mind, that I always hear him with a particular Pleasure. As we were sitting together, being the sole remaining Members of our Club, Sir ANDREW gave me an Account of the many busie Scenes of Life in which he had been engaged, and at the same time reckoned up to me abundance of those lucky Hits, which at another time he would have called pieces of good Fortune; but in the Temper of Mind he was then, he termed them Mercies, Favours of Providence, and Blessings upon an honest Industry. Now, says he, you must know my good Friend, I am so used to consider my self as Creditor and Debtor, that I often state my Accounts after the same manner with regard to Heaven and my own Soul. In this case, when I look upon the Debtor-side, I find such innumerable Articles, that I want Arithmetick to cast them up; but when I look upon the Creditor-side, I find little more than blank Paper. Now though I am very well satisfied that it is not in my power to ballance Accounts with my Maker, I am resolved however to turn all my future Endeavours that way. You must not therefore be surprized, my Friend, if you hear that I am betaking my self to a more thoughtful kind of Life, and if I meet you no more in this Place.
I could not but approve so good a Resolution, notwithstanding the Loss I shall suffer by it. Sir ANDREW has since explained himself to me more at large in the following Letter, which is just come to my hands.
_Good Mr._ SPECTATOR,
‘Notwithstanding my Friends at the Club have always rallied me, when I have talked of retiring from Business, and repeated to me one of my own Sayings, _That a Merchant has never enough till he has got a little more_; I can now inform you, that there is one in the World who thinks he has enough, and is determined to pass the Remainder of his Life in the Enjoyment of what he has. You know me so well, that I need not tell you, I mean, by the Enjoyment of my Possessions, the making of them useful to the Publick. As the greatest part of my Estate has been hitherto of an unsteady and volatile nature, either tost upon Seas or fluctuating in Funds; it is now fixed and settled in Substantial Acres and Tenements. I have removed it from the Uncertainty of Stocks, Winds and Waves, and disposed of it in a considerable Purchase. This will give me great Opportunity of being charitable in my way, that is, in setting my poor Neighbours to Work, and giving them a comfortable Subsistence out of their own Industry. My Gardens, my Fish-ponds, my Arable and Pasture Grounds shall be my several Hospitals, or rather Work-houses, in which I propose to maintain a great many indigent Persons, who are now starving in my Neighbourhood. I have got a fine Spread of improveable Lands, and in my own Thoughts am already plowing up some of them, fencing others; planting Woods, and draining Marshes. In fine, as I have my share in the Surface of this Island, I am resolved to make it as beautiful a Spot as any in her Majesty’s Dominions; at least there is not an Inch of it which shall not be cultivated to the best Advantage, and do its utmost for its Owner. As in my Mercantile Employment I so disposed of my Affairs, that from whatever Corner of the Compass the Wind blew, it was bringing home one or other of my Ships; I hope, as a Husbandman, to contrive it so, that not a Shower of Rain, or a Glimpse of Sunshine, shall fall upon my Estate without bettering some part of it, and contributing to the Products of the Season. You know it has been hitherto my Opinion of Life, that it is thrown away when it is not some way useful to others. But when I am riding out by my self, in the fresh Air on the open Heath that lies by my House, I find several other Thoughts growing up in me. I am now of opinion that a Man [of my Age] may find Business enough on himself, by setting his Mind in