The Spectator, Volume 2 by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele (page 7)

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No. 273. Saturday, January 12, 1712. Addison.

Notandi sunt tibi Mores.

Hor.

Having examined the Action of _Paradise Lost_, let us in the next place consider the Actors. [This is _Aristotle’s_ Method of considering, first the Fable, and secondly [1]] the Manners; or, as we generally call them in _English_, the Fable and the Characters.

_Homer_ has excelled all the Heroic Poets that ever wrote, in the Multitude and Variety of his Characters. Every God that is admitted into this Poem, acts a Part which would have been suitable to no other Deity. His Princes are as much distinguished by their Manners, as by their Dominions; and even those among them, whose Characters seem wholly made up of Courage, differ from one another as to the particular kinds of Courage in which they excel. In short, there is scarce a Speech or Action in the _Iliad_, which the Reader may not ascribe to the Person that speaks or acts, without seeing his Name at the Head of it.

_Homer_ does not only outshine all other Poets in the Variety, but also in the Novelty of his Characters. He has introduced among his _Grecian_ Princes a Person who had lived thrice the Age of Man, and conversed with _Theseus, Hercules, Polyphemus_, and the first Race of Heroes. His principal Actor is the [Son [2]] of a Goddess, not to mention the [Offspring of other Deities, who have [3]] likewise a Place in his Poem, and the venerable _Trojan_ Prince, who was the Father of so many Kings and Heroes. There is in these several Characters of _Homer_, a certain Dignity as well as Novelty, which adapts them in a more peculiar manner to the Nature of an Heroic Poem. Tho at the same time, to give them the greater Variety, he has described a _Vulcan_, that is a Buffoon among his Gods, and a _Thersites_ among his Mortals.

_Virgil_ falls infinitely short of _Homer_ in the Characters of his Poem, both as to their Variety and Novelty. _AEneas_ is indeed a perfect Character, but as for _Achates_, tho he is stiled the Heros Friend, he does nothing in the whole Poem which may deserve that Title. _Gyas_, _Mnesteus_, _Sergestus_ and _Cloanthus_, are all of them Men of the same Stamp and Character.

–_Fortemque Gyan, fortemque Cloanthum._

There are indeed several very Natural Incidents on the Part of _Ascanius_; as that of _Dido_ cannot be sufficiently admired. I do not see any thing new or particular in _Turnus_. _Pallas_ and _Evander_ are [remote] Copies of _Hector_ and _Priam_, as _Lausus_ and _Mezentius_ are almost Parallels to _Pallas_ and _Evander_. The Characters of _Nisus_ and _Eurialus_ are beautiful, but common. [We must not forget the Parts of _Sinon_, _Camilla_, and some few others, which are fine Improvements on the _Greek_ Poet.] In short, there is neither that Variety nor Novelty in the Persons of the _AEneid_, which we meet with in those of the _Iliad_.

If we look into the Characters of _Milton_, we shall find that he has introduced all the Variety [his Fable [4]] was capable of receiving. The whole Species of Mankind was in two Persons at the Time to which the Subject of his Poem is confined. We have, however, four distinct Characters in these two Persons. We see Man and Woman in the highest Innocence and Perfection, and in the most abject State of Guilt and Infirmity. The two last Characters are, indeed, very common and obvious, but the two first are not only more magnificent, but more new [5] than any Characters either in _Virgil_ or _Homer_, or indeed in the whole Circle of Nature.

_Milton_ was so sensible of this Defect in the Subject of his Poem, and of the few Characters it would afford him, that he has brought into it two Actors of a Shadowy and Fictitious Nature, in the Persons of _Sin_ and _Death_, [6] by which means he has [wrought into [7]] the Body of his Fable a very beautiful and well-invented Allegory. But notwithstanding the Fineness of this Allegory may attone for it in some measure; I cannot think that Persons of such a Chymerical Existence are proper Actors in an Epic Poem; because there is not that measure of Probability annexed to them, which is requisite in Writings of this kind, [as I shall shew more at large hereafter].

_Virgil_ has, indeed, admitted Fame as an Actress in the _AEneid_, but the Part she acts is very short, and none of the most admired Circumstances in that Divine Work. We find in Mock-Heroic Poems, particularly in the _Dispensary_ and the _Lutrin_ [8] several Allegorical Persons of this Nature which are very beautiful in those Compositions, and may, perhaps, be used as an Argument, that the Authors of them were of Opinion, [such [9]] Characters might have a Place in an Epic Work. For my own part, I should be glad the Reader would think so, for the sake of the Poem I am now examining, and must further add, that if such empty unsubstantial Beings may be ever made use of on this Occasion, never were any more nicely imagined, and employed in more proper Actions, than those of which I am now speaking.

Another Principal Actor in this Poem is the great Enemy of Mankind. The Part of _Ulysses_ in _Homers Odyssey_ is very much admired by _Aristotle_, [10] as perplexing that Fable with very agreeable Plots and Intricacies, not only by the many Adventures in his Voyage, and the Subtility of his Behaviour, but by the various Concealments and Discoveries of his Person in several Parts of that Poem. But the Crafty Being I have now mentioned, makes a much longer Voyage than _Ulysses_, puts in practice many more Wiles and Stratagems, and hides himself under a greater Variety of Shapes and Appearances, all of which are severally detected, to the great Delight and Surprize of the Reader.

We may likewise observe with how much Art the Poet has varied several Characters of the Persons that speak to his infernal Assembly. On the contrary, how has he represented the whole Godhead exerting it self towards Man in its full Benevolence under the Three-fold Distinction of a Creator, a Redeemer and a Comforter!

Nor must we omit the Person of _Raphael_, who amidst his Tenderness and Friendship for Man, shews such a Dignity and Condescension in all his Speech and Behaviour, as are suitable to a Superior Nature. [The Angels are indeed as much diversified in _Milton_, and distinguished by their proper Parts, as the Gods are in _Homer_ or _Virgil_. The Reader will find nothing ascribed to _Uriel, Gabriel, Michael,_ or _Raphael_, which is not in a particular manner suitable to their respective Characters.]

There is another Circumstance in the principal Actors of the _Iliad_ and _AEneid_, which gives a [peculiar [11]] Beauty to those two Poems, and was therefore contrived with very great Judgment. I mean the Authors having chosen for their Heroes, Persons who were so nearly related to the People for whom they wrote. _Achilles_ was a Greek, and _AEneas_ the remote Founder of _Rome_. By this means their Countrymen (whom they principally proposed to themselves for their Readers) were particularly attentive to all the Parts of their Story, and sympathized with their Heroes in all their Adventures. A _Roman_ could not but rejoice in the Escapes, Successes and Victories of _AEneas_, and be grieved at any Defeats, Misfortunes or Disappointments that befel him; as a Greek_ must have had the same Regard for Achilles_. And it is plain, that each of those Poems have lost this great Advantage, among those Readers to whom their Heroes are as Strangers, or indifferent Persons.

_Milton’s_ Poem is admirable in this respect, since it is impossible for any of its Readers, whatever Nation, Country or People he may belong to, not to be related to the Persons who are the principal Actors in it; but what is still infinitely more to its Advantage, the principal Actors in this Poem are not only our Progenitors, but our Representatives. We have an actual Interest in every thing they do, and no less than our utmost Happiness is concerned, and lies at Stake in all their Behaviour.

I shall subjoin as a Corollary to the foregoing Remark, an admirable Observation out of _Aristotle_, which hath been very much misrepresented in the Quotations of some Modern Criticks.

If a Man of perfect and consummate Virtue falls into a Misfortune, it raises our Pity, but not our Terror, because we do not fear that it may be our own Case, who do not resemble the Suffering Person. But as that great Philosopher adds, If we see a Man of Virtue mixt with Infirmities, fall into any Misfortune, it does not only raise our Pity but our Terror; because we are afraid that the like Misfortunes may happen to our selves, who resemble the Character of the Suffering Person.

I shall take another Opportunity to observe, that a Person of an absolute and consummate Virtue should never be introduced in Tragedy, and shall only remark in this Place, that the foregoing Observation of _Aristotle_ [12] tho it may be true in other Occasions, does not hold in this; because in the present Case, though the Persons who fall into Misfortune are of the most perfect and consummate Virtue, it is not to be considered as what may possibly be, but what actually is our own Case; since we are embarked with them on the same Bottom, and must be Partakers of their Happiness or Misery.

In this, and some other very few Instances, _Aristotle’s_ Rules for Epic Poetry (which he had drawn from his Reflections upon _Homer_) cannot be supposed to quadrate exactly with the Heroic Poems which have been made since his Time; since it is plain his Rules would [still have been [13]] more perfect, could he have perused the _AEneid_ which was made some hundred Years after his Death.

_In my next, I shall go through other Parts of_ Milton’s _Poem; and hope that what I shall there advance, as well as what I have already written, will not only serve as a Comment upon_ Milton, _but upon_ Aristotle.

L.

[Footnote 1: [These are what Aristotle means by the Fable and &c.]]

[Footnote 2: [Offspring]]

[Footnote 3: [Son of Aurora who has]]

[Footnote 4: [that his Poem]]

[Footnote 5: It was especially for the novelty of _Paradise Lost_, that John Dennis had in 1704 exalted Milton above the ancients. In putting forward a prospectus of a large projected work upon the Grounds of Criticism in Poetry, he gave as a specimen of the character of his work, the substance of what would be said in the beginning of the Criticism upon Milton. Here he gave Milton supremacy on ground precisely opposite to that chosen by Addison. He described him as

one of the greatest and most daring Genius’s that has appear’d in the World, and who has made his country a glorious present of the most lofty, but most irregular Poem, that has been produc’d by the Mind of Man. That great Man had a desire to give the World something like an Epick Poem; but he resolv’d at the same time to break thro the Rules of Aristotle. Not that he was ignorant of them, or contemned them…. Milton was the first who in the space of almost 4000 years resolv’d for his Country’s Honour and his own, to present the World with an Original Poem; that is to say, a Poem that should have his own thoughts, his own images, and his own spirit. In order to this he was resolved to write a Poem, that, by virtue of its extraordinary Subject, cannot so properly be said to be against the Rules as it may be affirmed to be above them all … We shall now shew for what Reasons the choice of Milton’s Subject, as it set him free from the obligation which he lay under to the Poetical Laws, so it necessarily threw him upon new Thoughts, new Images, and an Original Spirit. In the next place we shall shew that his Thoughts, his Images, and by consequence too, his Spirit are actually new, and different from those of Homer and Virgil. Thirdly, we shall shew, that besides their Newness, they have vastly the Advantage of _Homer and Virgil_.]

[Footnote 6: Paradise Lost, Book II.]

[Footnote 7: interwoven in]

[Footnote 8: Sir Samuel Garth in his _Dispensary_, a mock-heroic poem upon a dispute, in 1696, among doctors over the setting up of a Dispensary in a room of the College of Physicians for relief of the sick poor, houses the God of Sloth within the College, and outside, among other allegories, personifies Disease as a Fury to whom the enemies of the Dispensary offer libation. Boileau in his _Lutrin_ a mock-heroic poem written in 1673 on a dispute between two chief personages of the chapter of a church in Paris, la Sainte Chapelle, as to the position of a pulpit, had with some minor allegory, chiefly personified Discord, and made her enter into the form of an old precentor, very much as in Garths poem the Fury Disease

Shrill Colons person took,
In morals loose, but most precise in look.]

[Footnote 9: [that such]]

[Footnote 10: Poetics II. Sec. 17; III. Sec.6.]

[Footnote 11: [particular]]

[Footnote 12: 1 Poetics II. Sec. ii. But Addison misquotes the first clause. Aristotle says that when a wholly virtuous man falls from prosperity into adversity, this is neither terrible _nor piteous_, but ([Greek: miaron]) shocking. Then he adds that our pity is _excited_ by undeserved misfortune, and our terror by some resemblance between the sufferer and ourselves.]

[Footnote 13: [have been still]]

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No. 274. Monday, January 14, 1712. Steele.

Audire est operae pretium, procedere recte Qui moechis non vultis.

Hor.

I have upon several Occasions (that have occurred since I first took into my Thoughts the present State of Fornication) weighed with my self, in behalf of guilty Females, the Impulses of Flesh and Blood, together with the Arts and Gallantries of crafty Men; and reflect with some Scorn that most Part of what we in our Youth think gay and polite, is nothing else but an Habit of indulging a Pruriency that Way. It will cost some Labour to bring People to so lively a Sense of this, as to recover the manly Modesty in the Behaviour of my Men Readers, and the bashful Grace in the Faces of my Women; but in all Cases which come into Debate, there are certain things previously to be done before we can have a true Light into the Subject Matter; therefore it will, in the first Place, be necessary to consider the impotent Wenchers and industrious Haggs, who are supplied with, and are constantly supplying new Sacrifices to the Devil of Lust. You are to know then, if you are so happy as not to know it already, that the great Havock which is made in the Habitations of Beauty and Innocence, is committed by such as can only lay waste and not enjoy the Soil. When you observe the present State of Vice and Virtue, the Offenders are such as one would think should have no Impulse to what they are pursuing; as in Business, you see sometimes Fools pretend to be Knaves, so in Pleasure, you will find old Men set up for Wenchers. This latter sort of Men are the great Basis and Fund of Iniquity in the Kind we are speaking of: You shall have an old rich Man often receive Scrawls from the several Quarters of the Town, with Descriptions of the new Wares in their Hands, if he will please to send Word when he will be waited on. This Interview is contrived, and the Innocent is brought to such Indecencies as from Time to Time banish Shame and raise Desire. With these Preparatives the Haggs break their Wards by little and little, till they are brought to lose all Apprehensions of what shall befall them in the Possession of younger Men. It is a common Postscript of an Hagg to a young Fellow whom she invites to a new Woman, _She has, I assure you, seen none but old Mr. Such-a-one_. It pleases the old Fellow that the Nymph is brought to him unadorned, and from his Bounty she is accommodated with enough to dress her for other Lovers. This is the most ordinary Method of bringing Beauty and Poverty into the Possession of the Town: But the particular Cases of kind Keepers, skilful Pimps, and all others who drive a separate Trade, and are not in the general Society or Commerce of Sin, will require distinct Consideration. At the same time that we are thus severe on the Abandoned, we are apt to represent the Case of others with that Mitigation as the Circumstances demand. Calling Names does no Good; to speak worse of any thing than it deserves, does only take off from the Credit of the Accuser, and has implicitly the Force of an Apology in the Behalf of the Person accused. We shall therefore, according as the Circumstances differ, vary our Appellations of these Criminals: Those who offend only against themselves, and are not Scandals to Society, but out of Deference to the sober Part of the World, have so much Good left in them as to be ashamed, must not be huddled in the common Word due to the worst of Women; but Regard is to be had to their Circumstances when they fell, to the uneasy Perplexity under which they lived under senseless and severe Parents, to the Importunity of Poverty, to the Violence of a Passion in its Beginning well grounded, and all other Alleviations which make unhappy Women resign the Characteristick of their Sex, Modesty. To do otherwise than thus, would be to act like a Pedantick Stoick, who thinks all Crimes alike, and not like an impartial SPECTATOR, who looks upon them with all the Circumstances that diminish or enhance the Guilt. I am in Hopes, if this Subject be well pursued, Women will hereafter from their Infancy be treated with an Eye to their future State in the World; and not have their Tempers made too untractable from an improper Sourness or Pride, or too complying from Familiarity or Forwardness contracted at their own Houses. After these Hints on this Subject, I shall end this Paper with the following genuine Letter; and desire all who think they may be concerned in future Speculations on this Subject, to send in what they have to say for themselves for some Incidents in their Lives, in order to have proper Allowances made for their Conduct.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR, _January_ 5, 1711.

The Subject of your Yesterdays Paper is of so great Importance, and the thorough handling of it may be so very useful to the Preservation of many an innocent young Creature, that I think every one is obliged to furnish you with what Lights he can, to expose the pernicious Arts and Practices of those unnatural Women called Bawds. In order to this the enclosed is sent you, which is _verbatim_ the Copy of a Letter written by a Bawd of Figure in this Town to a noble Lord. I have concealed the Names of both, my Intention being not to expose the Persons but the Thing.
_I am,
SIR,
Your humble Servant_.

_My Lord_,
I having a great Esteem for your Honour, and a better Opinion of you than of any of the Quality, makes me acquaint you of an Affair that I hope will oblige you to know. I have a Niece that came to Town about a Fortnight ago. Her Parents being lately dead she came to me, expecting to a found me in so good a Condition as to a set her up in a Milliners Shop. Her Father gave Fourscore Pounds with her for five Years: Her Time is out, and she is not Sixteen; as pretty a black Gentlewoman as ever you saw, a little Woman, which I know your Lordship likes: well shaped, and as fine a Complection for Red and White as ever I saw; I doubt not but your Lordship will be of the same Opinion. She designs to go down about a Month hence except I can provide for her, which I cannot at present. Her Father was one with whom all he had died with him, so there is four Children left destitute; so if your Lordship thinks fit to make an Appointment where I shall wait on you with my Niece, by a Line or two, I stay for your Answer; for I have no Place fitted up since I left my House, fit to entertain your Honour. I told her she should go with me to see a Gentleman a very good Friend of mine; so I desire you to take no Notice of my Letter by reason she is ignorant of the Ways of the Town. My Lord, I desire if you meet us to come alone; for upon my Word and Honour you are the first that ever I mentioned her to. So I remain,

_Your Lordships
Most humble Servant to Command._

I beg of you to burn it when you’ve read it.

T.

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No. 275. Tuesday, January 15, 1712. Addison.

–tribus Anticyris caput insanabile–

Juv.

I was Yesterday engaged in an Assembly of Virtuosos, where one of them produced many curious Observations which he had lately made in the Anatomy of an Human Body. Another of the Company communicated to us several wonderful Discoveries, which he had also made on the same Subject, by the Help of very fine Glasses. This gave Birth to a great Variety of uncommon Remarks, and furnished Discourse for the remaining Part of the Day.

The different Opinions which were started on this Occasion, presented to my Imagination so many new Ideas, that by mixing with those which were already there, they employed my Fancy all the last Night, and composed a very wild Extravagant Dream.

I was invited, methoughts, to the Dissection of a _Beaus Head_ and of a _Coquets Heart_, which were both of them laid on a Table before us. An imaginary Operator opened the first with a great deal of Nicety, which, upon a cursory and superficial View, appeared like the Head of another Man; but upon applying our Glasses to it, we made a very odd Discovery, namely, that what we looked upon as Brains, were not such in reality, but an Heap of strange Materials wound up in that Shape and Texture, and packed together with wonderful Art in the several Cavities of the Skull. For, as _Homer_ tells us, that the Blood of the Gods is not real Blood, but only something like it; so we found that the Brain of a Beau is not real Brain, but only something like it.

The _Pineal Gland_, which many of our Modern Philosophers suppose to be the Seat of the Soul, smelt very strong of Essence and Orange-flower Water, and was encompassed with a kind of Horny Substance, cut into a thousand little Faces or Mirrours, which were imperceptible to the naked Eye, insomuch that the Soul, if there had been any here, must have been always taken up in contemplating her own Beauties.

We observed a long _Antrum_ or Cavity in the _Sinciput_, that was filled with Ribbons, Lace and Embroidery, wrought together in a most curious Piece of Network, the Parts of which were likewise imperceptible to the naked Eye. Another of these _Antrums_ or Cavities was stuffed with invisible Billetdoux, Love-Letters, pricked Dances, and other Trumpery of the same Nature. In another we found a kind of Powder, which set the whole Company a Sneezing, and by the Scent discovered it self to be right _Spanish_. The several other Cells were stored with Commodities of the same kind, of which it would be tedious to give the Reader an exact Inventory.

There was a large Cavity on each side of the Head, which I must not omit. That on the right Side was filled with Fictions, Flatteries, and Falshoods, Vows, Promises, and Protestations; that on the left with Oaths and Imprecations. There issued out a _Duct_ from each of these Cells, which ran into the Root of the Tongue, where both joined together, and passed forward in one common _Duct_ to the Tip of it. We discovered several little Roads or Canals running from the Ear into the Brain, and took particular care to trace them out through their several Passages. One of them extended itself to a Bundle of Sonnets and little musical Instruments. Others ended in several Bladders which were filled either with Wind or Froth. But the latter Canal entered into a great Cavity of the Skull, from whence there went another Canal into the Tongue. This great Cavity was filled with a kind of Spongy Substance, which the _French_ Anatomists call _Galimatias_, and the _English_, Nonsense.

The Skins of the Forehead were extremely tough and thick, and, what very much surprized us, had not in them any single Blood-Vessel that we were able to discover, either with or without our Glasses; from whence we concluded, that the Party when alive must have been entirely deprived of the Faculty of Blushing.

The _Os Cribriforme_ was exceedingly stuffed, and in some Places damaged with Snuff. We could not but take notice in particular of that small Muscle which is not often discovered in Dissections, and draws the Nose upwards, when it expresses the Contempt which the Owner of it has, upon seeing any thing he does not like, or hearing any thing he does not understand. I need not tell my learned Reader, this is that Muscle which performs the Motion so often mentioned by the _Latin_ Poets, when they talk of a Man’s cocking his Nose, or playing the Rhinoceros.

We did not find any thing very remarkable in the Eye, saving only, that the _Musculi Amatorii_, or, as we may translate it into _English_, the _Ogling Muscles_, were very much worn and decayed with use; whereas on the contrary, the _Elevator_, or the Muscle which turns the Eye towards Heaven, did not appear to have been used at all.

I have only mentioned in this Dissection such new Discoveries as we were able to make, and have not taken any notice of those Parts which are to be met with in common Heads. As for the Skull, the Face, and indeed the whole outward Shape and Figure of the Head, we could not discover any Difference from what we observe in the Heads of other Men. We were informed, that the Person to whom this Head belonged, had passed for _a Man_ above five and thirty Years; during which time he Eat and Drank like other People, dressed well, talked loud, laught frequently, and on particular Occasions had acquitted himself tolerably at a Ball or an Assembly; to which one of the Company added, that a certain Knot of Ladies took him for a Wit. He was cut off in the Flower of his Age by the Blow of a Paring-Shovel, having been surprized by an eminent Citizen, as he was tendring some Civilities to his Wife.

When we had thoroughly examined this Head with all its Apartments, and its several kinds of Furniture, we put up the Brain, such as it was, into its proper Place, and laid it aside under a broad Piece of Scarlet Cloth, in order to be _prepared_, and kept in a great Repository of Dissections; our Operator telling us that the Preparation would not be so difficult as that of another Brain, for that he had observed several of the little Pipes and Tubes which ran through the Brain were already filled with a kind of Mercurial Substance, which he looked upon to be true Quick-Silver.

He applied himself in the next Place to the _Coquets Heart_, which he likewise laid open with great Dexterity. There occurred to us many Particularities in this Dissection; but being unwilling to burden my Readers Memory too much, I shall reserve this Subject for the Speculation of another Day.

L.

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No. 276. Wednesday, January 16, 1712. Steele.

Errori nomen virtus posuisset honestum.

Hor.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,

I hope you have Philosophy enough to be capable of bearing the Mention of your Faults. Your Papers which regard the fallen Part of the Fair Sex, are, I think, written with an Indelicacy, which makes them unworthy to be inserted in the Writings of a Moralist who knows the World. I cannot allow that you are at Liberty to observe upon the Actions of Mankind with the Freedom which you seem to resolve upon; at least if you do, you should take along with you the Distinction of Manners of the World, according to the Quality and Way of Life of the Persons concerned. A Man of Breeding speaks of even Misfortune among Ladies without giving it the most terrible Aspect it can bear: And this Tenderness towards them, is much more to be preserved when you speak of Vices. All Mankind are so far related, that Care is to be taken, in things to which all are liable, you do not mention what concerns one in Terms which shall disgust another. Thus to tell a rich Man of the Indigence of a Kinsman of his, or abruptly inform a virtuous Woman of the Lapse of one who till then was in the same degree of Esteem with her self, is in a kind involving each of them in some Participation of those Disadvantages. It is therefore expected from every Writer, to treat his Argument in such a Manner, as is most proper to entertain the sort of Readers to whom his Discourse is directed. It is not necessary when you write to the Tea-table, that you should draw Vices which carry all the Horror of Shame and Contempt: If you paint an impertinent Self-love, an artful Glance, an assumed Complection, you say all which you ought to suppose they can possibly be guilty of. When you talk with this Limitation, you behave your self so as that you may expect others in Conversation may second your Raillery; but when you do it in a Stile which every body else forbears in Respect to their Quality, they have an easy Remedy in forbearing to read you, and hearing no more of their Faults. A Man that is now and then guilty of an Intemperance is not to be called a Drunkard; but the Rule of polite Raillery, is to speak of a Man’s Faults as if you loved him. Of this Nature is what was said by _Caesar_: When one was railing with an uncourtly Vehemence, and broke out, What must we call him who was taken in an Intrigue with another Man’s Wife? Caesar answered very gravely, _A careless Fellow_. This was at once a Reprimand for speaking of a Crime which in those Days had not the Abhorrence attending it as it ought, as well as an Intimation that all intemperate Behaviour before Superiors loses its Aim, by accusing in a Method unfit for the Audience. A Word to the Wise. All I mean here to say to you is, That the most free Person of Quality can go no further than being [a kind [1]] Woman; and you should never say of a Man of Figure worse, than that he knows the World.

I am, SIR,
Your most humble Servant,
Francis Courtly.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
I am a Woman of an unspotted Reputation, and know nothing I have ever done which should encourage such Insolence; but here was one the other Day, and he was dressed like a Gentleman too, who took the Liberty to name the Words Lusty Fellow in my Presence. I doubt not but you will resent it in Behalf of,

SIR,
Your Humble Servant,
CELIA.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
You lately put out a dreadful Paper, wherein you promise a full Account of the State of criminal Love; and call all the Fair who have transgressed in that Kind by one very rude Name which I do not care to repeat: But 1 desire to know of you whether I am or I am not of those? My Case is as follows. I am kept by an old Batchelour, who took me so young, that I knew not how he came by me: He is a Bencher of one of the Inns of Court, a very gay healthy old Man; which is a lucky thing for him, who has been, he tells me, a Scowrer, a Scamperer, a Breaker of Windows, an Invader of Constables, in the Days of Yore when all Dominion ended with the Day, and Males and Females met helter skelter, and the Scowrers drove before them all who pretended to keep up Order or Rule to the Interruption of Love and Honour. This is his way of Talk, for he is very gay when he visits me; but as his former Knowledge of the Town has alarmed him into an invincible Jealousy, he keeps me in a pair of Slippers, neat Bodice, warm Petticoats, and my own Hair woven in Ringlets, after a Manner, he says, he remembers. I am not Mistress of one Farthing of Money, but have all Necessaries provided for me, under the Guard of one who procured for him while he had any Desires to gratify. I know nothing of a Wench’s Life, but the Reputation of it: I have a natural Voice, and a pretty untaught Step in Dancing. His Manner is to bring an old Fellow who has been his Servant from his Youth, and is gray-headed: This Man makes on the Violin a certain Jiggish Noise to which I dance, and when that is over I sing to him some loose Air, that has more Wantonness than Musick in it. You must have seen a strange window’d House near _Hide-Park,_ which is so built that no one can look out of any of the Apartments; my Rooms are after that manner, and I never see Man, Woman, or Child, but in Company with the two Persons above-mentioned. He sends me in all the Books, Pamphlets, Plays, Operas and Songs that come out; and his utmost Delight in me as a Woman, is to talk over old Amours in my Presence, to play with my Neck, say _the Time was_, give me a Kiss, and bid me be sure to follow the Directions of my Guardian (the above-mentioned Lady) and I shall never want. The Truth of my Case is, I suppose, that I was educated for a Purpose he did not know he should be unfit for when I came to Years. Now, Sir, what I ask of you, as a Casuist, is to tell me how far in these Circumstances I am innocent, though submissive; he guilty, though impotent? _I am,
SIR,
Your constant Reader,_
PUCELLA.

_To the Man called the_ SPECTATOR.

_Friend,_
Forasmuch as at the Birth of thy Labour, thou didst promise upon thy Word, that letting alone the Vanities that do abound, thou wouldst only endeavour to strengthen the crooked Morals of this our _Babylon_, I gave Credit to thy fair Speeches, and admitted one of thy Papers, every Day save _Sunday_, into my House; for the Edification of my Daughter _Tabitha_, and to the end that Susannah the Wife of my Bosom might profit thereby. But alas, my Friend, I find that thou art a Liar, and that the Truth is not in thee; else why didst thou in a Paper which thou didst lately put forth, make mention of those vain Coverings for the Heads of our Females, which thou lovest to liken unto Tulips, and which are lately sprung up amongst us? Nay why didst thou make mention of them in such a seeming, as if thou didst approve the Invention, insomuch that my Daughter _Tabitha_ beginneth to wax wanton, and to lust after these foolish Vanities? Surely thou dost see with the Eyes of the Flesh. Verily therefore, unless thou dost speedily amend and leave off following thine own Imaginations, I will leave off thee.

_Thy Friend as hereafter thou dost demean thyself,_ Hezekiah Broadbrim.

T.

[Footnote 1: [an unkind]]

* * * * *

No. 277. Thursday, January 17, 1712. Budgell.

–fas est et ab hoste doceri.

Virg.

I presume I need not inform the Polite Part of my Readers, that before our Correspondence with _France_ was unhappily interrupted by the War, our Ladies had all their Fashions from thence; which the Milliners took care to furnish them with by means of a Jointed Baby, that came regularly over, once a Month, habited after the manner of the most Eminent Toasts in _Paris_.

I am credibly informed, that even in the hottest time of the War, the Sex made several Efforts, and raised large Contributions towards the Importation of this Wooden _Madamoiselle._

Whether the Vessel they set out was lost or taken, or whether its Cargo was seized on by the Officers of the Custom-house, as a piece of Contraband Goods, I have not yet been able to learn; it is, however, certain their first Attempts were without Success, to the no small Disappointment of our whole Female World; but as their Constancy and Application, in a matter of so great Importance, can never be sufficiently commended, I am glad to find that in Spight of all Opposition, they have at length carried their Point, of which I received Advice by the two following Letters.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
I am so great a Lover of whatever is _French_, that I lately discarded an humble Admirer, because he neither spoke that Tongue, nor drank Claret. I have long bewailed, in secret, the Calamities of my Sex during the War, in all which time we have laboured under the insupportable Inventions of _English_ Tire-Women, who, tho they sometimes copy indifferently well, can never compose with that _Gout_ they do in _France_.

I was almost in Despair of ever more seeing a Model from that dear Country, when last Sunday I over-heard a Lady, in the next Pew to me, whisper another, that at the _Seven Stars_ in _King-street Covent-garden_, there was a _Madamoiselle_ compleatly dressed just come from _Paris_.

I was in the utmost Impatience during the remaining part of the Service, and as soon as ever it was over, having learnt the Millener’s _Addresse_, I went directly to her House in _King-street_, but was told that the _French_ Lady was at a Person of Quality’s in _Pall-mall_, and would not be back again till very late that Night. I was therefore obliged to renew my Visit very early this Morning, and had then a full View of the dear Moppet from Head to Foot.

You cannot imagine, worthy Sir, how ridiculously I find we have all been trussed up during the War, and how infinitely the _French_ Dress excels ours.

The Mantua has no Leads in the Sleeves, and I hope we are not lighter than the _French_ Ladies, so as to want that kind of Ballast; the Petticoat has no Whale-bone; but fits with an Air altogether galant and _degage_: the _Coiffeure_ is inexpressibly pretty, and in short, the whole Dress has a thousand Beauties in it, which I would not have as yet made too publick.

I thought fit, however, to give this Notice, that you may not be surprized at my appearing _a la mode de Paris_ on the next Birth-Night. _I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant,_
Teraminta.

Within an Hour after I had read this Letter, I received another from the Owner of the Puppet.

SIR,
On Saturday last, being the 12th Instant, there arrived at my House in _King-street, Covent-Garden_, a _French_ Baby for the Year 1712. I have taken the utmost Care to have her dressed by the most celebrated Tyre-women and Mantua-makers in _Paris_, and do not find that I have any Reason to be sorry for the Expence I have been at in her Cloaths and Importation: However, as I know no Person who is so good a Judge of Dress as your self, if you please to call at my House in your Way to the City, and take a View of her, I promise to amend whatever you shall disapprove in your next Paper, before I exhibit her as a Pattern to the Publick.
_I am, SIR,
Your most humble Admirer,
and most obedient Servant,_
Betty Cross-stitch.

As I am willing to do any thing in reason for the Service of my Country-women, and had much rather prevent Faults than find them, I went last Night to the House of the above-mentioned Mrs. _Cross-stitch_. As soon as I enter’d, the Maid of the Shop, who, I suppose, was prepared for my coming, without asking me any Questions, introduced me to the little Damsel, and ran away to call her Mistress.

The Puppet was dressed in a Cherry-coloured Gown and Petticoat, with a short working Apron over it, which discovered her Shape to the most Advantage. Her Hair was cut and divided very prettily, with several Ribbons stuck up and down in it. The Millener assured me, that her Complexion was such as was worn by all the Ladies of the best Fashion in _Paris_. Her Head was extreamly high, on which Subject having long since declared my Sentiments, I shall say nothing more to it at present. I was also offended at a small Patch she wore on her Breast, which I cannot suppose is placed there with any good Design.

Her Necklace was of an immoderate Length, being tied before in such a manner that the two Ends hung down to her Girdle; but whether these supply the Place of Kissing-Strings in our Enemy’s Country, and whether our _British_ Ladies have any occasion for them, I shall leave to their serious Consideration.

After having observed the Particulars of her Dress, as I was taking a view of it altogether, the Shop-maid, who is a pert Wench, told me that _Mademoiselle_ had something very Curious in the tying of her Garters; but as I pay a due Respect even to a pair of Sticks when they are in Petticoats, I did not examine into that Particular.

Upon the whole I was well enough pleased with the Appearance of this gay Lady, and the more so because she was not Talkative, a Quality very rarely to be met with in the rest of her Countrywomen.

As I was taking my leave, the Millener farther informed me, that with the Assistance of a Watchmaker, who was her Neighbour, and the ingenious Mr. _Powell_, she had also contrived another Puppet, which by the help of several little Springs to be wound up within it, could move all its Limbs, and that she had sent it over to her Correspondent in _Paris_ to be taught the various Leanings and Bendings of the Head, the Risings of the Bosom, the Curtesy and Recovery, the genteel Trip, and the agreeable Jet, as they are now practised in the Court of _France_.

She added that she hoped she might depend upon having my Encouragement as soon as it arrived; but as this was a Petition of too great Importance to be answered _extempore_, I left her without a Reply, and made the best of my way to WILL. HONEYCOMBS Lodgings, without whose Advice I never communicate any thing to the Publick of this Nature.

X.

* * * * *

No. 278. Friday, January 18, 1712. Steele.

Sermones ego mallem
Repentes per humum.

Hor.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
_SIR_,

Your having done considerable Service in this great City, by rectifying the Disorders of Families, and several Wives having preferred your Advice and Directions to those of their Husbands, emboldens me to apply to you at this Time. I am a Shop-keeper, and tho but a young Man, I find by Experience that nothing but the utmost Diligence both of Husband and Wife (among trading People) can keep Affairs in any tolerable Order. My Wife at the Beginning of our Establishment shewed her self very assisting to me in my Business as much as could lie in her Way, and I have Reason to believe twas with her Inclination; but of late she has got acquainted with a Schoolman, who values himself for his great Knowledge in the _Greek_ Tongue. He entertains her frequently in the Shop with Discourses of the Beauties and Excellencies of that Language; and repeats to her several Passages out of the _Greek_ Poets, wherein he tells her there is unspeakable Harmony and agreeable Sounds that all other Languages are wholly unacquainted with. He has so infatuated her with his Jargon, that instead of using her former Diligence in the Shop, she now neglects the Affairs of the House, and is wholly taken up with her Tutor in learning by Heart Scraps of _Greek_, which she vents upon all Occasions. She told me some Days ago, that whereas I use some _Latin_ Inscriptions in my Shop, she advised me with a great deal of Concern to have them changed into _Greek;_ it being a Language less understood, would be more conformable to the Mystery of my Profession; that our good Friend would be assisting to us in this Work; and that a certain Faculty of Gentlemen would find themselves so much obliged to me, that they would infallibly make my Fortune: In short her frequent Importunities upon this and other Impertinences of the like Nature make me very uneasy; and if your Remonstrances have no more Effect upon her than mine, I am afraid I shall be obliged to ruin my self to procure her a Settlement at _Oxford_ with her Tutor, for she’s already too mad for _Bedlam_. Now, Sir, you see the Danger my Family is exposed to, and the Likelihood of my Wife’s becoming both troublesome and useless, unless her reading her self in your Paper may make her reflect. She is so very learned that I cannot pretend by Word of Mouth to argue with her. She laughed out at your ending a Paper in _Greek_, and said twas a Hint to Women of Literature, and very civil not to translate it to expose them to the Vulgar. You see how it is with,

_SIR_,
_Your humble Servant_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
If you have that Humanity and Compassion in your Nature that you take such Pains to make one think you have, you will not deny your Advice to a distressed Damsel, who intends to be determined by your Judgment in a Matter of great Importance to her. You must know then, There is an agreeable young Fellow, to whose Person, Wit, and Humour no body makes any Objection, that pretends to have been long in Love with me. To this I must add, (whether it proceeds from the Vanity of my Nature, or the seeming Sincerity of my Lover, I wont pretend to say) that I verily believe he has a real Value for me; which if true, you’ll allow may justly augment his Merit for his Mistress. In short, I am so sensible of his good Qualities, and what I owe to his Passion, that I think I could sooner resolve to give up my Liberty to him than any body else, were there not an Objection to be made to his Fortunes, in regard they don’t answer the utmost mine may expect, and are not sufficient to secure me from undergoing the reproachful Phrase so commonly used, That she has played the Fool. Now, tho I am one of those few who heartily despise Equipage, Diamonds, and a Coxcomb, yet since such opposite Notions from mine prevail in the World, even amongst the best, and such as are esteemed the most prudent People, I cant find in my Heart to resolve upon incurring the Censure of those wise Folks, which I am conscious I shall do, if when I enter into a married State, I discover a Thought beyond that of equalling, if not advancing my Fortunes. Under this Difficulty I now labour, not being in the least determined whether I shall be governed by the vain World, and the frequent Examples I meet with, or hearken to the Voice of my Lover, and the Motions I find in my Heart in favour of him. Sir, Your Opinion and Advice in this Affair, is the only thing I know can turn the Ballance; and which I earnestly intreat I may receive soon; for till I have your Thoughts upon it, I am engaged not to give my Swain a final Discharge.

Besides the particular Obligation you will lay on me, by giving this Subject Room in one of your Papers, tis possible it may be of use to some others of my Sex, who will be as grateful for the Favour as, _SIR,
Your Humble Servant,_
Florinda.

P. S. _To tell you the Truth I am Married to Him already, but pray say something to justify me._

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
You will forgive Us Professors of Musick if We make a second Application to You, in order to promote our Design of exhibiting Entertainments of Musick in _York-Buildings._ It is industriously insinuated that Our Intention is to destroy Operas in General, but we beg of you to insert this plain Explanation of our selves in your Paper. Our Purpose is only to improve our Circumstances, by improving the Art which we profess. We see it utterly destroyed at present; and as we were the Persons who introduced Operas, we think it a groundless Imputation that we should set up against the Opera in it self. What we pretend to assert is, That the Songs of different Authors injudiciously put together, and a Foreign Tone and Manner which are expected in every thing now performed among us, has put Musick it self to a stand; insomuch that the Ears of the People cannot now be entertained with any thing but what has an impertinent Gayety, without any just Spirit, or a Languishment of Notes, without any Passion or common Sense. We hope those Persons of Sense and Quality who have done us the Honour to subscribe, will not be ashamed of their Patronage towards us, and not receive Impressions that patronising us is being for or against the Opera, but truly promoting their own Diversions in a more just and elegant Manner than has been hitherto performed. _We are, SIR,
Your most humble Servants,_
Thomas Clayton.
Nicolino Haym.
Charles Dieupart. [1]

_There will be no Performances in_ York-buildings _till after that of the Subscription._

T.

[Footnote 1: See No. 258.]

* * * * *

No. 279. Saturday, January 19, 1712. Addison.

Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique.

Hor.

We have already taken a general Survey of the Fable and Characters in _Milton’s Paradise Lost_. The Parts which remain to be considered, according to _Aristotle’s_ Method, are the _Sentiments_ and the _Language_. [1]

Before I enter upon the first of these, I must advertise my Reader, that it is my Design as soon as I have finished my general Reflections on these four several Heads, to give particular Instances out of the Poem which is now before us of Beauties and Imperfections which may be observed under each of them, as also of such other Particulars as may not properly fall under any of them. This I thought fit to premise, that the Reader may not judge too hastily of this Piece of Criticism, or look upon it as Imperfect, before he has seen the whole Extent of it.

The Sentiments in an Epic Poem are the Thoughts and Behaviour which the Author ascribes to the Persons whom he introduces, and are _just_ when they are conformable to the Characters of the several Persons. The Sentiments have likewise a relation to _Things_ as well as _Persons_, and are then perfect when they are such as are adapted to the Subject. If in either of these Cases the Poet [endeavours to argue or explain, to magnify or diminish, to raise] [2] Love or Hatred, Pity or Terror, or any other Passion, we ought to consider whether the Sentiments he makes use of are proper for [those [3]] Ends. _Homer_ is censured by the Criticks for his Defect as to this Particular in several parts of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, tho at the same time those, who have treated this great Poet with Candour, have attributed this Defect to the Times in which he lived. [4] It was the Fault of the Age, and not of _Homer_, if there wants that Delicacy in some of his Sentiments which now appears in the Works of Men of a much inferior Genius. Besides, if there are Blemishes in any particular Thoughts, there is an infinite Beauty in the greatest Part of them. In short, if there are many Poets who would not have fallen into the Meanness of some of his Sentiments, there are none who could have risen up to the Greatness of others. _Virgil_ has excelled all others in the Propriety of his Sentiments. _Milton_ shines likewise very much in this Particular: Nor must we omit one Consideration which adds to his Honour and Reputation. _Homer_ and _Virgil_ introduced Persons whose Characters are commonly known among Men, and such as are to be met with either in History, or in ordinary Conversation. _Milton’s_ Characters, most of them, lie out of Nature, and were to be formed purely by his own Invention. It shews a greater Genius in _Shakespear_ to have drawn his _Calyban,_ than his _Hotspur_ or _Julius Caesar:_ The one was to be supplied out of his own Imagination, whereas the other might have been formed upon Tradition, History and Observation. It was much easier therefore for _Homer_ to find proper Sentiments for an Assembly of _Grecian_ Generals, than for _Milton_ to diversify his infernal Council with proper Characters, and inspire them with a Variety of Sentiments. The Lovers of _Dido_ and _AEneas_ are only Copies of what has passed between other Persons. _Adam_ and _Eve_, before the Fall, are a different Species from that of Mankind, who are descended from them; and none but a Poet of the most unbounded Invention, and the most exquisite Judgment, could have filled their Conversation and Behaviour with [so many apt [5]] Circumstances during their State of Innocence.

Nor is it sufficient for an Epic Poem to be filled with such Thoughts as are _Natural_, unless it abound also with such as are _Sublime_. Virgil in this Particular falls short of _Homer_. He has not indeed so many Thoughts that are Low and Vulgar; but at the same time has not so many Thoughts that are Sublime and Noble. The Truth of it is, _Virgil_ seldom rises into very astonishing Sentiments, where he is not fired by the _Iliad_. He every where charms and pleases us by the Force of his own Genius; but seldom elevates and transports us where he does not fetch his Hints from _Homer_.

_Milton’s_ chief Talent, and indeed his distinguishing Excellence, lies in the Sublimity of his Thoughts. There are others of the Moderns who rival him in every other part of Poetry; but in the Greatness of his Sentiments he triumphs over all the Poets both Modern and Ancient, _Homer_ only excepted. It is impossible for the Imagination of Man to distend itself with greater Ideas, than those which he has laid together in his first, [second,] and sixth Book[s]. The seventh, which describes the Creation of the World, is likewise wonderfully Sublime, tho not so apt to stir up Emotion in the Mind of the Reader, nor consequently so perfect in the Epic Way of Writing, because it is filled with less Action. Let the judicious Reader compare what _Longinus_ has observed [6] on several Passages in _Homer_, and he will find Parallels for most of them in the _Paradise Lost_.

From what has been said we may infer, that as there are two kinds of Sentiments, the Natural and the Sublime, which are always to be pursued in an Heroic Poem, there are also two kinds of Thoughts which are carefully to be avoided. The first are such as are affected and unnatural; the second such as are mean and vulgar. As for the first kind of Thoughts, we meet with little or nothing that is like them in _Virgil:_ He has none of those [trifling [7]] Points and Puerilities that are so often to be met with in _Ovid_, none of the Epigrammatick Turns of _Lucan_, none of those swelling Sentiments which are so frequent in _Statins_ and _Claudian_, none of those mixed Embellishments of _Tasso_. Every thing is just and natural. His Sentiments shew that he had a perfect Insight into human Nature, and that he knew every thing which was the most proper to [affect it [8]].

Mr. _Dryden_ has in some Places, which I may hereafter take notice of, misrepresented _Virgil’s_ way of thinking as to this Particular, in the Translation he has given us of the _AEneid_. I do not remember that _Homer_ any where falls into the Faults above-mentioned, which were indeed the false Refinements of later Ages. _Milton_, it must be confest, has sometimes erred in this Respect, as I shall shew more at large in another Paper; tho considering how all the Poets of the Age in which he writ were infected with this wrong way of thinking, he is rather to be admired that he did not give more into it, than that he did sometimes comply with the vicious Taste which still prevails so much among Modern Writers.

But since several Thoughts may be natural which are low and groveling, an Epic Poet should not only avoid such Sentiments as are unnatural or affected, but also such as are [mean [9]] and vulgar. _Homer_ has opened a great Field of Raillery to Men of more Delicacy than Greatness of Genius, by the Homeliness of some of his Sentiments. But, as I have before said, these are rather to be imputed to the Simplicity of the Age in which he lived, to which I may also add, of that which he described, than to any Imperfection in that Divine Poet. _Zoilus_ [10] among the Ancients, and Monsieur _Perrault_, [11] among the Moderns, pushed their Ridicule very far upon him, on account of some such Sentiments. There is no Blemish to be observed in _Virgil_ under this Head, and but [a] very few in Milton.

I shall give but one Instance of this Impropriety of [Thought [12]] in _Homer_, and at the same time compare it with an Instance of the same Nature, both in _Virgil_ and _Milton_. Sentiments which raise Laughter, can very seldom be admitted with any Decency into an Heroic Poem, whose Business it is to excite Passions of a much nobler Nature. _Homer_, however, in his Characters of _Vulcan_ [13] and _Thersites_ [14], in his Story of _Mars_ and _Venus_, [15] in his Behaviour of _Irus_ [16] and in other Passages, has been observed to have lapsed into the Burlesque Character, and to have departed from that serious Air which seems essential to the Magnificence of an Epic Poem. I remember but one Laugh in the whole AEneid, which rises in the fifth Book, upon _Monaetes_, where he is represented as thrown overboard, and drying himself upon a Rock. But this Piece. of Mirth is so well timed, that the severest Critick can have nothing to say against it; for it is in the Book of Games and Diversions, where the Readers Mind may be supposed to be sufficiently relaxed for such an Entertainment. The only Piece of Pleasantry in _Paradise Lost_, is where the Evil Spirits are described as rallying the Angels upon the Success of their new invented Artillery. This Passage I look upon to be the most exceptionable in the whole Poem, as being nothing else but a String of Punns, and those too very indifferent ones.

–Satan beheld their Plight,
And to his Mates thus in Derision call’d. O Friends, why come not on those Victors proud? Ere-while they fierce were coming, and when we, To entertain them fair with open Front, And Breast, (what could we more?) propounded terms Of Composition, straight they chang’d their Minds, Flew off, _and into strange Vagaries fell As they would dance: yet for a Dance they seem’d Somewhat extravagant, and wild; perhaps For Joy of offer’d Peace; but I suppose If our Proposals once again were_ heard, _We should compel them to a quick_ Result.

_To whom thus_ Belial _in like gamesome Mood: Leader, the Terms we sent were Terms of_ Weight, _Of_ hard Contents, _and full of force urg’d home; Such as we might perceive amus’d them all, And_ stumbled _many: who receives them right, Had need, from Head to Foot, will_ understand; _Not_ understood, _this Gift they have besides, They shew us when our Foes_ walk not upright.

_Thus they among themselves in pleasant vein Stood scoffing_ [17]—-

I.

[Footnote 1: It is in Part II. of the _Poetics,_ when treating of Tragedy, that Aristotle lays down his main principles. Here after treating of the Fable and the Manners, he proceeds to the Diction and the Sentiments. By Fable, he says (Sec. 2),

I mean the contexture of incidents, or the Plot. By Manners, I mean, whatever marks the Character of the Persons. By Sentiments, whatever they say, whether proving any thing, or delivering a general sentiment, &c.

In dividing Sentiments from Diction, he says (Sec.22): The Sentiments include whatever is the Object of speech, Diction (Sec. 23-25) the words themselves. Concerning Sentiment, he refers his reader to the rhetoricians.]

[Footnote 2: [argues or explains, magnifies or diminishes, raises]]

[Footnote 3: [these]]

[Footnote 4: Rene le Bossu says in his treatise on the Epic, published in 1675, Bk, vi. ch. 3:

What is base and ignoble at one time and in one country, is not always so in others. We are apt to smile at Homers comparing Ajax to an Ass in his Iliad. Such a comparison now-a-days would be indecent and ridiculous; because it would be indecent and ridiculous for a person of quality to ride upon such a steed. But heretofore this Animal was in better repute: Kings and princes did not disdain the best so much as mere tradesman do in our time. Tis just the same with many other smiles which in Homers time were allowable. We should now pity a Poet that should be so silly and ridiculous as to compare a Hero to a piece of Fat. Yet Homer does it in a comparison he makes of Ulysses… The reason is that in these Primitive Times, wherein the Sacrifices … were living creatures, the Blood and the Fat were the most noble, the most august, and the most holy things.]

[Footnote 5: [such Beautiful]]

[Footnote 6: Longimus on the Sublime, I. Sec. 9. of Discord, Homer says (Popes tr.):

While scarce the skies her horrid head can bound, She stalks on earth.

(Iliad iv.)

Of horses of the gods:

Far as a shepherd from some spot on high O’er the wide main extends his boundless eye, Through such a space of air, with thundring sound, At one long leap th’ immortal coursers bound.

(Iliad v.)

Longinus quotes also from the Iliad xix., the combat of the Gods, the description of Neptune, Iliad xi., and the Prayer of Ajax, Iliad xvii.]

[Footnote 7: [little]]

[Footnote 8: [affect it. I remember but one line in him which has been objected against, by the Criticks, as a point of Wit. It is in his ninth Book, where _Juno_, speaking of the _Trojans_, how they survived the Ruins of their City, expresses her self in the following words;

_Num copti potuere copi, num incense cremorunt Pergama?_

_Were the Trojans taken even after they were Captives, or did_ Troy _burn even when it was in Flames?_]

[Footnote 9: [low]]

[Footnote 10: Zoilus, who lived about 270 B. C., in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus, made himself famous for attacks upon Homer and on Plato and Isocrates, taking pride in the title of Homeromastix. Circes men turned into swine Zoilus ridiculed as weeping porkers. When he asked sustenance of Ptolemy he was told that Homer sustained many thousands, and as he claimed to be a better man than Homer, he ought to be able to sustain himself. The tradition is that he was at last crucified, stoned, or burnt for his heresy.]

[Footnote 11: Charles Perrault, brother of Claude Perrault the architect and ex-physician, was himself Controller of Public Buildings under Colbert, and after his retirement from that office, published in 1690 his Parallel between the Ancients and Moderns, taking the side of the moderns in the controversy, and dealing sometimes disrespectfully with Homer. Boileau replied to him in Critical Reflections on Longinus.]

[Footnote 12: [Sentiments]]

[Footnote 13: Iliad, Bk. i., near the close.]

[Footnote 14: Iliad, Bk. ii.]

[Footnote 15: Bk. v., at close.]

[Footnote 16: Odyssey, Bk. xviii]

[Footnote 17: Paradise Lost, Bk. vi. 1. 609, &c. Milton meant that the devils should be shown as scoffers, and their scoffs as mean.]

* * * * *

No. 280. Monday, January 21, 1712. Steele.

Principibus Placuisse viris non ultima I laus est.

Hor.

The Desire of Pleasing makes a Man agreeable or unwelcome to those with whom he converses, according to the Motive from which that Inclination appears to flow. If your Concern for pleasing others arises from innate Benevolence, it never fails of Success; if from a Vanity to excel, its Disappointment is no less certain. What we call an agreeable Man, is he who is endowed with [the [1]] natural Bent to do acceptable things from a Delight he takes in them meerly as such; and the Affectation of that Character is what constitutes a Fop. Under these Leaders one may draw up all those who make any Manner of Figure, except in dumb Show. A rational and select Conversation is composed of Persons, who have the Talent of Pleasing with Delicacy of Sentiments flowing from habitual Chastity of Thought; but mixed Company is frequently made up of Pretenders to Mirth, and is usually pestered with constrained, obscene, and painful Witticisms. Now and then you meet with a Man so exactly formed for Pleasing, that it is no matter what he is doing or saying, that is to say, that there need no Manner of Importance in it, to make him gain upon every Body who hears or beholds him. This Felicity is not the Gift of Nature only, but must be attended with happy Circumstances, which add a Dignity to the familiar Behaviour which distinguishes him whom we call an agreeable Man. It is from this that every Body loves and esteems _Polycarpus_. He is in the Vigour of his Age and the Gayety of Life, but has passed through very conspicuous Scenes in it; though no Soldier, he has shared the Danger, and acted with great Gallantry and Generosity on a decisive Day of Battle. To have those Qualities which only make other Men conspicuous in the World as it were supernumerary to him, is a Circumstance which gives Weight to his most indifferent Actions; for as a known Credit is ready Cash to a Trader, so is acknowledged Merit immediate Distinction, and serves in the Place of Equipage to a Gentleman. This renders _Polycarpus_ graceful in Mirth, important in Business, and regarded with Love in every ordinary Occurrence. But not to dwell upon Characters which have such particular Recommendations to our Hearts, let us turn our Thoughts rather to the Methods of Pleasing which must carry Men through the World who cannot pretend to such Advantages. Falling in with the particular Humour or Manner of one above you, abstracted from the general Rules of good Behaviour, is the Life of a Slave. A Parasite differs in nothing from the meanest Servant, but that the Footman hires himself for bodily Labour, subjected to go and come at the Will of his Master, but the other gives up his very Soul: He is prostituted to speak, and professes to think after the Mode of him whom he courts. This Servitude to a Patron, in an honest Nature, would be more grievous than that of wearing his Livery; therefore we will speak of those Methods only which are worthy and ingenuous.

The happy Talent of Pleasing either those above you or below you, seems to be wholly owing to the Opinion they have of your Sincerity. This Quality is to attend the agreeable Man in all the Actions of his Life; and I think there need no more be said in Honour of it, than that it is what forces the Approbation even of your Opponents. The guilty Man has an Honour for the Judge who with Justice pronounces against him the Sentence of Death it self. The Author of the Sentence at the Head of this Paper, was an excellent Judge of human Life, and passed his own in Company the most agreeable that ever was in the World. _Augustus_ lived amongst his Friends as if he had his Fortune to make in his own Court: Candour and Affability, accompanied with as much Power as ever Mortal was vested with, were what made him in the utmost Manner agreeable among a Set of admirable Men, who had Thoughts too high for Ambition, and Views too large to be gratified by what he could give them in the Disposal of an Empire, without the Pleasures of their mutual Conversation. A certain Unanimity of Taste and Judgment, which is natural to all of the same Order in the Species, was the Band of this Society; and the Emperor assumed no Figure in it but what he thought was his Due from his private Talents and Qualifications, as they contributed to advance the Pleasures and Sentiments of the Company.

Cunning People, Hypocrites, all who are but half virtuous, or half wise, are incapable of tasting the refined Pleasure of such an equal Company as could wholly exclude the Regard of Fortune in their Conversations. _Horace_, in the Discourse from whence I take the Hint of the present Speculation, lays down excellent Rules for Conduct in Conversation with Men of Power; but he speaks it with an Air of one who had no Need of such an Application for any thing which related to himself. It shews he understood what it was to be a skilful Courtier, by just Admonitions against Importunity, and shewing how forcible it was to speak Modestly of your own Wants. There is indeed something so shameless in taking all Opportunities to speak of your own Affairs, that he who is guilty of it towards him upon whom he depends, fares like the Beggar who exposes his Sores, which instead of moving Compassion makes the Man he begs of turn away from the Object.

I cannot tell what is become of him, but I remember about sixteen Years ago an honest Fellow, who so justly understood how disagreeable the Mention or Appearance of his Wants would make him, that I have often reflected upon him as a Counterpart of _Irus_, whom I have formerly mentioned. This Man, whom I have missed for some Years in my Walks, and have heard was someway employed about the Army, made it a Maxim, That good Wigs, delicate Linen, and a chearful Air, were to a poor Dependent the same that working Tools are to a poor Artificer. It was no small Entertainment to me, who knew his Circumstances, to see him, who had fasted two Days, attribute the Thinness they told him of to the Violence of some Gallantries he had lately been guilty of. The skilful Dissembler carried this on with the utmost Address; and if any suspected his Affairs were narrow, it was attributed to indulging himself in some fashionable Vice rather than an irreproachable Poverty, which saved his Credit with those on whom he depended.

The main Art is to be as little troublesome as you can, and make all you hope for come rather as a Favour from your Patron than Claim from you. But I am here prating of what is the Method of Pleasing so as to succeed in the World, when there are Crowds who have, in City, Town, Court, and Country, arrived at considerable Acquisitions, and yet seem incapable of acting in any constant Tenour of Life, but have gone on from one successful Error to another: Therefore I think I may shorten this Enquiry after the Method of Pleasing; and as the old Beau said to his Son, once for all, Pray, Jack, _be a fine Gentleman_, so may I, to my Reader, abridge my Instructions, and finish the Art of Pleasing in a Word, Be rich.

T.

[Footnote 1: [that]]

* * * * *

No. 281. Tuesday, January 22, 1712. Addison.

Pectoribus inhians spirantia consulit exta.

Virg.

Having already given an Account of the Dissection of a Beaus Head, with the several Discoveries made on that Occasion; I shall here, according to my Promise, enter upon the Dissection of a Coquets Heart, and communicate to the Public such Particularities as we observed in that curious Piece of Anatomy.

I should perhaps have waved this Undertaking, had not I been put in mind of my Promise by several of my unknown Correspondents, who are very importunate with me to make an Example of the Coquet, as I have already done of the Beau. It is therefore in Compliance with the Request of Friends, that I have looked over the Minutes of my former Dream, in order to give the Publick an exact Relation to it, which I shall enter upon without further Preface.

Our Operator, before he engaged in this Visionary Dissection, told us, that there was nothing in his Art more difficult than to lay open the Heart of a Coquet, by reason of the many Labyrinths and Recesses which are to be found in it, and which do not appear in the Heart of any other Animal.

He desired us first of all to observe the _Pericardium_, or outward Case of the Heart, which we did very attentively; and by the help of our Glasses discern’d in it Millions of little Scars, which seem’d to have been occasioned by the Points of innumerable Darts and Arrows, that from time to time had glanced upon the outward Coat; though we could not discover the smallest Orifice, by which any of them had entered and pierced the inward Substance.

Every Smatterer in Anatomy knows that this _Pericardium_, or Case of the Heart, contains in it a thin reddish Liquor, supposed to be bred from the Vapours which exhale out of the Heart, and, being stopt here, are condensed into this watry Substance. Upon examining this Liquor, we found that it had in it all the Qualities of that Spirit which is made use of in the Thermometer, to shew the Change of Weather.

Nor must I here omit an Experiment one of the Company assured us he himself had made with this Liquor, which he found in great Quantity about the Heart of a Coquet whom he had formerly dissected. He affirmed to us, that he had actually inclosed it in a small Tube made after the manner of a Weather Glass; but that instead of acquainting him with the Variations of the Atmosphere, it shewed him the Qualities of those Persons who entered the Room where it stood. He affirmed also, that it rose at the Approach of a Plume of Feathers, an embroidered Coat, or a Pair of fringed Gloves; and that it fell as soon as an ill-shaped Perriwig, a clumsy Pair of Shoes, or an unfashionable Coat came into his House: Nay, he proceeded so far as to assure us, that upon his Laughing aloud when he stood by it, the Liquor mounted very sensibly, and immediately sunk again upon his looking serious. In short, he told us, that he knew very well by this Invention whenever he had a Man of Sense or a Coxcomb in his Room.

Having cleared away the _Pericardium_, or the Case and Liquor above-mentioned, we came to the Heart itself. The outward Surface of it was extremely slippery, and the _Mufro_, or Point, so very cold withal, that, upon endeavouring to take hold of it it glided through the Fingers like a smooth Piece of Ice.

The Fibres were turned and twisted in a more intricate and perplexed manner than they are usually found in other Hearts; insomuch that the whole Heart was wound up together in a Gordian Knot, and must have had very irregular and unequal Motions, whilst it was employed in its Vital Function.

One thing we thought very observable, namely, that, upon examining all the Vessels which came into it or issued out of it, we could not discover any Communication that it had with the Tongue.

We could not but take Notice likewise, that several of those little Nerves in the Heart which are affected by the Sentiments of Love, Hatred, and other Passions, did not descend to this before us from the Brain, but from the Muscles which lie about the Eye.

Upon weighing the Heart in my Hand, I found it to be extreamly light, and consequently very hollow, which I did not wonder at, when upon looking into the Inside of it, I saw Multitudes of Cells and Cavities running one within another, as our Historians describe the Apartments of _Rosamond’s_ Bower. Several of these little Hollows were stuffed with innumerable sorts of Trifles, which I shall forbear giving any particular Account of, and shall therefore only take Notice of what lay first and uppermost, which, upon our unfolding it and applying our Microscopes to it, appeared to be a Flame-coloured Hood.

We were informed that the Lady of this Heart, when living, received the Addresses of several who made Love to her, and did not only give each of them Encouragement, but made every one she conversed with believe that she regarded him with an Eye of Kindness; for which Reason we expected to have seen the Impression of Multitudes of Faces among the several Plaits and Foldings of the Heart; but to our great Surprize not a single Print of this nature discovered it self till we came into the very Core and Center of it. We there observed a little Figure, which, upon applying our Glasses to it, appeared dressed in a very fantastick manner. The more I looked upon it, the more I thought I had seen the Face before, but could not possibly recollect either the Place or Time; when, at length, one of the Company, who had examined this Figure more nicely than the rest, shew’d us plainly by the Make of its Face, and the several Turns of its Features, that the little Idol which was thus lodged in the very Middle of the Heart was the deceased Beau, whose Head I gave some Account of in my last _Tuesdays_ Paper.

As soon as we had finished our Dissection, we resolved to make an Experiment of the Heart, not being able to determine among our selves the Nature of its Substance, which differ’d in so many Particulars from that of the Heart in other Females. Accordingly we laid it into a Pan of burning Coals, when we observed in it a certain Salamandrine Quality, that made it capable of living in the midst of Fire and Flame, without being consumed, or so much as singed.

As we were admiring this strange _Phoenomenon_, and standing round the Heart in a Circle, it gave a most prodigious Sigh or rather Crack, and dispersed all at once in Smoke and Vapour. This imaginary Noise, which methought was louder than the burst of a Cannon, produced such a violent Shake in my Brain, that it dissipated the Fumes of Sleep, and left me in an Instant broad awake.

L.

* * * * *

No. 282. Wednesday, January 23, 1712. Steele.

[–Spes incerta futuri.

Virg. [1]]

It is a lamentable thing that every Man is full of Complaints, and constantly uttering Sentences against the Fickleness of Fortune, when People generally bring upon themselves all the Calamities they fall into, and are constantly heaping up Matter for their own Sorrow and Disappointment. That which produces the greatest Part of the [Delusions [2]] of Mankind, is a false Hope which People indulge with so sanguine a Flattery to themselves, that their Hearts are bent upon fantastical Advantages which they had no Reason to believe should ever have arrived to them. By this unjust Measure of calculating their Happiness, they often mourn with real Affliction for imaginary Losses. When I am talking of this unhappy way of accounting for our selves, I cannot but reflect upon a particular Set of People, who, in their own Favour, resolve every thing that is possible into what is probable, and then reckon on that Probability as on what must certainly happen. WILL. HONEYCOMB, upon my observing his looking on a Lady with some particular Attention, gave me an Account of the great Distresses which had laid waste that her very fine Face, and had given an Air of Melancholy to a very agreeable Person, That Lady, and a couple of Sisters of hers, were, said WILL., fourteen Years ago, the greatest Fortunes about Town; but without having any Loss by bad Tenants, by bad Securities, or any Damage by Sea or Land, are reduced to very narrow Circumstances. They were at that time the most inaccessible haughty Beauties in Town; and their Pretensions to take upon them at that unmerciful rate, was rais’d upon the following Scheme, according to which all their Lovers were answered.

Our Father is a youngish Man, but then our Mother is somewhat older, and not likely to have any Children: His Estate, being L800 per Annum, at 20 Years Purchase, is worth L16,000. Our Uncle who is above 50, has L400 _per Annum_, which at the foresaid Rate, is L8000. There’s a Widow Aunt, who has L10,000 at her own Disposal left by her Husband, and an old Maiden Aunt who has L6000. Then our Fathers Mother has L900 _per Annum_, which is worth L18,000 and L1000 each of us has of her own, which cant be taken from us. These summ’d up together stand thus.

Fathers 800- 16,000 This equally divided between Uncles 400- 8000 us three amounts to L20,000 Aunts 10,000 each; and Allowance being 6000- 16,000 given for Enlargement upon Grandmother 900- 18,000 common Fame, we may lawfully Own 1000 each- 3000 pass for L30,000 Fortunes. Total- 61,000

In Prospect of this, and the Knowledge of her own personal Merit, every one was contemptible in their Eyes, and they refus’d those Offers which had been frequently made em. But _mark the End:_ The Mother dies, the Father is married again, and has a Son, on him was entail’d the Fathers, Uncles, and Grand-mothers Estate. This cut off L43,000. The Maiden Aunt married a tall Irishman, and with her went the L6000. The Widow died, and left but enough to pay her Debts and bury her; so that there remained for these three Girls but their own L1000. They had [by] this time passed their Prime, and got on the wrong side of Thirty; and must pass the Remainder of their Days, upbraiding Mankind that they mind nothing but Money, and bewailing that Virtue, Sense and Modesty are had at present in no manner of Estimation.

I mention this Case of Ladies before any other, because it is the most irreparable: For tho Youth is the Time less capable of Reflection, it is in that Sex the only Season in which they can advance their Fortunes. But if we turn our Thoughts to the Men, we see such Crowds of Unhappy from no other Reason, but an ill-grounded Hope, that it is hard to say which they rather deserve, our Pity or Contempt. It is not unpleasant to see a Fellow after grown old in Attendance, and after having passed half a Life in Servitude, call himself the unhappiest of all Men, and pretend to be disappointed because a Courtier broke his Word. He that promises himself any thing but what may naturally arise from his own Property or Labour, and goes beyond the Desire of possessing above two Parts in three even of that, lays up for himself an encreasing Heap of Afflictions and Disappointments. There are but two Means in the World of gaining by other Men, and these are by being either agreeable or considerable. The Generality of Mankind do all things for their own sakes; and when you hope any thing from Persons above you, if you cannot say, I can be thus agreeable or thus serviceable, it is ridiculous to pretend to the Dignity of being unfortunate when they leave you; you were injudicious, in hoping for any other than to be neglected, for such as can come within these Descriptions of being capable to please or serve your Patron, when his Humour or Interests call for their Capacity either way.

It would not methinks be an useless Comparison between the Condition of a Man who shuns all the Pleasures of Life, and of one who makes it his Business to pursue them. Hope in the Recluse makes his Austerities comfortable, while the luxurious Man gains nothing but Uneasiness from his Enjoyments. What is the Difference in the Happiness of him who is macerated by Abstinence, and his who is surfeited with Excess? He who resigns the World, has no Temptation to Envy, Hatred, Malice, Anger, but is in constant Possession of a serene Mind; he who follows the Pleasures of it, which are in their very Nature disappointing, is in constant Search of Care, Solicitude, Remorse, and Confusion.

_January the 14th, 1712_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

I am a young Woman and have my Fortune to make; for which Reason I come constantly to Church to hear Divine Service, and make Conquests: But one great Hindrance in this my Design, is, that our Clerk, who was once a Gardener, has this _Christmas_ so over-deckt the Church with Greens, that he has quite spoilt my Prospect, insomuch that I have scarce seen the young Baronet I dress at these three Weeks, though we have both been very constant at our Devotions, and don’t sit above three Pews off. The Church, as it is now equipt, looks more like a Green-house than a Place of Worship: The middle Isle is a very pretty shady Walk, and the Pews look like so many Arbours of each Side of it. The Pulpit itself has such Clusters of Ivy, Holly, and Rosemary about it, that a light Fellow in our Pew took occasion to say, that the Congregation heard the Word out of a Bush, like _Moses_. Sir _Anthony Loves_ Pew in particular is so well hedged, that all my Batteries have no Effect. I am obliged to shoot at random among the Boughs, without taking any manner of Aim. _Mr_. SPECTATOR, unless you’ll give Orders for removing these Greens, I shall grow a very awkward Creature at Church, and soon have little else to do there but to say my Prayers. I am in haste,

_Dear SIR_,
_Your most Obedient Servant_,
Jenny Simper.

T.

[Footnote 1: _Et nulli rei nisi Poenitentiae natus._ ]

[Footnote 2: Pollutions]

* * * * *

No. 283. Thursday, January 24, 1712. Budgell.

Magister artis et largitor ingeni
Venter

Pers.

Lucian [1] rallies the Philosophers in his Time, who could not agree whether they should admit _Riches_ into the number of _real Goods_; the Professors of the Severer Sects threw them quite out, while others as resolutely inserted them.

I am apt to believe, that as the World grew more Polite, the rigid Doctrines of the first were wholly discarded; and I do not find any one so hardy at present, as to deny that there are very great Advantages in the Enjoyment of a plentiful Fortune. Indeed the best and wisest of Men, tho they may possibly despise a good Part of those things which the World calls Pleasures, can, I think, hardly be insensible of that Weight and Dignity which a moderate Share of Wealth adds to their Characters, Councils, and Actions.

We find it is a General Complaint in Professions and Trades, that the richest Members of them are chiefly encouraged, and this is falsly imputed to the Ill-nature of Mankind, who are ever bestowing their Favours on such as least want them. Whereas if we fairly consider their Proceedings in this Case, we shall find them founded on undoubted Reason: Since supposing both equal in their natural Integrity, I ought, in common Prudence, to fear foul Play from an Indigent Person, rather than from one whose Circumstances seem to have placed him above the bare Temptation of Money.

This Reason also makes the Common-wealth regard her richest Subjects, as those who are most concerned for her Quiet and Interest, and consequently fittest to be intrusted with her highest Imployments. On the contrary, _Cataline’s_ Saying to those Men of desperate Fortunes, who applied themselves to him, and of whom he afterwards composed his Army, that _they had nothing to hope for but a Civil War_, was too true not to make the Impressions he desired.

I believe I need not fear but that what I have said in Praise of Money, will be more than sufficient with most of my Readers to excuse the Subject of my present Paper, which I intend as an Essay on _The Ways to raise a Man’s Fortune_, or, _The Art of growing Rich._

The first and most infallible Method towards the attaining of this End, is _Thrift:_ All Men are not equally qualified for getting Money, but it is in the Power of every one alike to practise this Virtue, and I believe there are very few Persons, who, if they please to reflect on their past Lives, will not find that had they saved all those Little Sums which they have spent unnecessarily, they might at present have been Masters of a competent Fortune. _Diligence_ justly claims the next Place to _Thrift:_ I find both these excellently well recommended to common use in the three following _Italian_ Proverbs,

Never do that by Proxy which you can do yourself. Never defer that till To-morrow which you can do To-day. Never neglect small Matters and Expences.

A third Instrument of growing Rich, is _Method in Business_, which, as well as the two former, is also attainable by Persons of the meanest Capacities.

The famous _De Wit_, one of the greatest Statesmen of the Age in which he lived, being asked by a Friend, How he was able to dispatch that Multitude of Affairs in which he was engaged? reply’d, That his whole Art consisted in doing _one thing at once_. If, says he, I have any necessary Dispatches to make, I think of nothing else till those are finished; If any Domestick Affairs require my Attention, I give myself up wholly to them till they are set in Order.

In short, we often see Men of dull and phlegmatick Tempers, arriving to great Estates, by making a regular and orderly Disposition of their Business, and that without it the greatest Parts and most lively Imaginations rather puzzle their Affairs, than bring them to an happy Issue.

From what has been said, I think I may lay it down as a Maxim, that every Man of good common Sense may, if he pleases, in his particular Station of Life, most certainly be Rich. The Reason why we sometimes see that Men of the greatest Capacities are not so, is either because they despise Wealth in Comparison of something else; or at least are not content to be getting an Estate, unless they may do it their own way, and at the same time enjoy all the Pleasures and Gratifications of Life.

But besides these ordinary Forms of growing Rich, it must be allowed that there is Room for Genius, as well in this as in all other Circumstances of Life.

Tho the Ways of getting Money were long since very numerous; and tho so many new ones have been found out of late Years, there is certainly still remaining so large a Field for Invention, that a Man of an indifferent Head might easily sit down and draw up such a Plan for the Conduct and support of his Life, as was never yet once thought of.

We daily see Methods put in practice by hungry and ingenious Men, which demonstrate the Power of Invention in this Particular.

It is reported of _Scaramouch_, the first famous Italian Comedian, that being at _Paris_ and in great Want, he bethought himself of constantly plying near the Door of a noted Perfumer in that City, and when any one came out who had been buying Snuff, never failed to desire a Taste of them: when he had by this Means got together a Quantity made up of several different Sorts, he sold it again at a lower Rate to the same Perfumer, who finding out the Trick, called it _Tabac de mille fleures_, or _Snuff of a thousand Flowers_. The Story farther tells us, that by this means he got a very comfortable Subsistence, till making too much haste to grow Rich, he one Day took such an unreasonable Pinch out of the Box of a _Swiss_ Officer, as engaged him in a Quarrel, and obliged him to quit this Ingenious Way of Life.

Nor can I in this Place omit doing Justice to a Youth of my own Country, who, tho he is scarce yet twelve Years old, has with great Industry and Application attained to the Art of beating the Grenadiers March on his Chin. I am credibly informed that by this means he does not only maintain himself and his Mother, but that he is laying up Money every Day, with a Design, if the War continues, to purchase a Drum at least, if not a Colours.

I shall conclude these Instances with the Device of the famous _Rabelais_, when he was at a great Distance from _Paris_, and without Money to bear his Expences thither. This ingenious Author being thus sharp set, got together a convenient Quantity of Brick-Dust, and having disposed of it into several Papers, writ upon one _Poyson for Monsieur_, upon a second, _Poyson for the Dauphin_, and on a third, _Poyson for the King_. Having made this Provision for the Royal Family of _France_, he laid his Papers so that his Landlord, who was an Inquisitive Man, and a good Subject, might get a Sight of them.

The Plot succeeded as he desired: The Host gave immediate Intelligence to the Secretary of State. The Secretary presently sent down a Special Messenger, who brought up the Traitor to Court, and provided him at the Kings Expence with proper Accommodations on the Road. As soon as he appeared he was known to be the Celebrated _Rabelais_, and his Powder upon Examination being found very Innocent, the Jest was only laught at; for which a less eminent _Drole_ would have been sent to the Gallies.

Trade and Commerce might doubtless be still varied a thousand Ways, out of which would arise such Branches as have not yet been touched. The famous _Doily_ is still fresh in every ones Memory, who raised a Fortune by finding out Materials for such Stuffs as might at once be cheap and genteel. I have heard it affirmed, that had not he discovered this frugal Method of gratifying our Pride, we should hardly have been [able[1]] to carry on the last War.

I regard Trade not only as highly advantageous to the Commonwealth in general; but as the most natural and likely Method of making a Man’s Fortune, having observed, since my being a _Spectator_ in the World, greater Estates got about _Change_, than at _Whitehall_ or at St. _James’s_. I believe I may also add, that the first Acquisitions are generally attended with more Satisfaction, and as good a Conscience.

I must not however close this Essay, without observing that what has been said is only intended for Persons in the common ways of Thriving, and is not designed for those Men who from low Beginnings push themselves up to the Top of States, and the most considerable Figures in Life. My Maxim of _Saving_ is not designed for such as these, since nothing is more usual than for _Thrift_ to disappoint the Ends of _Ambition_; it being almost impossible that the Mind should [be [2]] intent upon Trifles, while it is at the same time forming some great Design.

I may therefore compare these Men to a great Poet, who, as _Longinus_ says, while he is full of the most magnificent Ideas, is not always at leisure to mind the little Beauties and Niceties of his Art.

I would however have all my Readers take great care how they mistake themselves for uncommon _Genius’s_, and Men above Rule, since it is very easy for them to be deceived in this Particular.

X.

[Footnote 1: In his Auction of Philosophers.]

[Footnote 2: [able so well]]

[Footnote 3: [descend to and be]]

* * * * *

No. 284. Friday, January 25, 1712. Steele.

[Posthabui tamen illorum mea seria Ludo.

Virg. [1]]

An unaffected Behaviour is without question a very great Charm; but under the Notion of being unconstrained and disengaged, People take upon them to be unconcerned in any Duty of Life. A general Negligence is what they assume upon all Occasions, and set up for an Aversion to all manner of Business and Attention. _I am the carelessest Creature in the World, I have certainly the worst Memory of any Man living_, are frequent Expressions in the Mouth of a Pretender of this sort. It is a professed Maxim with these People never to _think_; there is something so solemn in Reflexion, they, forsooth, can never give themselves Time for such a way of employing themselves. It happens often that this sort of Man is heavy enough in his Nature to be a good Proficient in such Matters as are attainable by Industry; but alas! he has such an ardent Desire to be what he is not, to be too volatile, to have the Faults of a Person of Spirit, that he professes himself the most unfit Man living for any manner of Application. When this Humour enters into the Head of a Female, she gently professes Sickness upon all Occasions, and acts all things with an indisposed Air: She is offended, but her Mind is too lazy to raise her to Anger, therefore she lives only as actuated by a violent Spleen and gentle Scorn. She has hardly Curiosity to listen to Scandal of her Acquaintance, and has never Attention enough to hear them commended. This Affectation in both Sexes makes them vain of being useless, and take a certain Pride in their Insignificancy.

Opposite to this Folly is another no less unreasonable, and that is the Impertinence of being always in a Hurry. There are those who visit Ladies, and beg Pardon afore they are well seated in their Chairs, that they just called in, but are obliged to attend Business of Importance elsewhere the very next Moment: Thus they run from Place to Place, professing that they are obliged to be still in another Company than that which they are in. These Persons who are just a going somewhere else should never be detained; [let [2]] all the World allow that Business is to be minded, and their Affairs will be at an end. Their Vanity is to be importuned, and Compliance with their Multiplicity of Affairs would effectually dispatch em. The Travelling Ladies, who have half the Town to see in an Afternoon, may be pardoned for being in constant Hurry; but it is inexcusable in Men to come where they have no Business, to profess they absent themselves where they have. It has been remarked by some nice Observers and Criticks, that there is nothing discovers the true Temper of a Person so much as his Letters. I have by me two Epistles, which are written by two People of the different Humours above-mentioned. It is wonderful that a Man cannot observe upon himself when he sits down to write, but that he will gravely commit himself to Paper the same Man that he is in the Freedom of Conversation. I have hardly seen a Line from any of these Gentlemen, but spoke them as absent from what they were doing, as they profess they are when they come into Company. For the Folly is, that they have perswaded themselves they really are busy. Thus their whole Time is spent in suspense of the present Moment to the next, and then from the next to the succeeding, which to the End of Life is to pass away with Pretence to many things, and Execution of nothing.

_SIR_,

The Post is just going out, and I have many other Letters of very great Importance to write this Evening, but I could not omit making my Compliments to you for your Civilities to me when I was last in Town. It is my Misfortune to be so full of Business, that I cannot tell you a Thousand Things which I have to say to you. I must desire you to communicate the Contents of this to no one living; but believe me to be, with the greatest Fidelity,