1 THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY V. S Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. University of Illinois Library t 135!' i^'^*;.4 du L161 — H41 S_ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/worksofjosephadd05addi_0 THE JOSEPH WORKS OP ADDISON, mCLTJDINO THE WHOLE CONTENTS OF BP. AND OTHER PIECES NOT COLLECTION; AND ON HIS LIFE HURD'S EDITION, WITH LETTERS FOUND IN ANY PREVIOUS MACAULAY'S ESSAY AND WORKS. EDITED, WITH CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES, BY GEORGE WASHINGTON GREENE. ** No whiter page than Addi3on remains, He from the taste obscene reclaims our 3'outh, And seta the passions on the side of tnitli ; Forms the soft bosom with the gentlest art, And pcurs each human virtue thro' the heart." — Popb IN SIX VOLUMES. NEW YORK: DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU ST., CINCINNATI : — H. W. DERBY & CO. 1857. Entered aceordmg to Aet of Congress, in the year 185S, By GEO. P. PUTNAM & CO., ia th^ Cl-erk's Offi«« of tiie District Court of the United States for tlie &oariiern "JWstrkt of New-Yo?k. ir, ^ TABLE OF CONTENTS. The Spectatoe* Introductory Remarks, xiii #1 The Spectator's Account of himself, .... 1 JP Of the Club — Sir Roger de Coverlev — ^the Templar — Sir Andrew Freeoort — Caotain Sentrv — Will Honeycomb — ^The Clergyman, 10 3. Public Credit, a Vision, 19 ^ On the Absurdities of the Modern Opera, ... 23 7. Popular Superstitions, 28 8. Letters on Masquerades, 82 9. Account of various Clubs, 86 to. The Uses of the Spectator, . . . . . .41 12. Custom of telling Stories of Ghosts to Children, . 45 13. Conduct of the Lions at the Opera — Merit of Kicolini, 49 15. Story of Cleanthe — on Happiness, exemplified in Aurelia — ^Fulvia 63 16. Various Articles of Dress — Lampoons — Scandal — Poli- tics — Letter from Charles Lillie, .... 5*7 K History of the Italian Opera, 61 952843 TABLE OF CONTENTS. Paqb The Spectator {Continued), 21. Divinity, Law, and Physic overburdened with Practi- tioners, ......... 65 23. Ill-natured Satire, 70 25. Letter from a Valetudinarian — Excess of Anxiety about Health, . 75 JS^ Reflections in Westminster-Abbey, .... 79 28. Project of an Office for the Regulation of Signs — a Mon- key recommended for the Opera, .... 83 29 Italian Recitative — Absurdities of the Opera Dresses, 87 81. Project of a new Opera, 92 &k. Success of the Spectators with various Classes of Read- ers, represented by the Club 96 35. False Wit and Humour — Genealogy of Humour, . 100 Catalogue of a Lady's Library — Character of Leonora, . 104 39. English Tragedy — Lee— Otway, .... 109 Jl. Tragedy and Tragi-Comedy, 114 4it English Tragedy — Methods to aggrandize the Persons in Tragedy, 119 44. Stage Tricks to excite Pity — Drjimatic Murders, . .123 45. Ill Consequences of the Peace— French Fashions — Child- ish Impertinence, 129 46. The Spectator's Paper of Hints dropped — Gospel-gossip —Ogling, . 13S Jl. Theory of the Passion of Laughter, . . . . 137 50. Remarks on the English, by the Indian Kings, . . 142 55. Eff^eets of Avarice and Luxury on Employments, . 149 56. Vision of Marraton, 153 57. Mischiefs of Party-Rage in the Female Sex, . . 158 m. Essay on Wit— History of False Wit, .... 162 59. The same subject continued, 167 60. Wit of the Monkish Ages — in Modern •Times, . 172 61. The Subject continued, 1'3^'7 m Difference between True and False Wit— Mixt Wit, . 181 63. Allegory of several Schemes of Wit, . . . 188 68. On Friendship 194 TABLE OF CONTENTS. VU Pag a The Spectator (Continued), ^isit to the Royal Exchange — Benefit of Extensive Commerce, 198 J0). Critique on the Ballad of Chevy-Chase, . . . 203 12. Account of the Everlasting Club, . . . . 210 13. Passion for Fame and Praise — Character of the Idols, 214 14:. Continuation of the Critique on Chevy-Chase, . . 218 gH. Female Party-Spirit discovered by Patches, . . 225 83. Dream of a Picture Gallery, 230 85. Fate of Writings— Ballad of the Children in the Wood, 235 86. On Physiognomy, . 239 89. Lovers — Demurrage — ^Folly of Demurrage, . . 244 90. Punishment of a voluptuous Man after Death — Adven- ture of M. Pontigna, 249 92. Books for a Lady's Library, 253 93. Proper Methods of employing Time, . . . 257 94. Subject continued — Pursuit of Knowledge, . . . 262 98. Ladies' Head-dresses, . . ... 267 99 The Chief Point of Honour in Men and Women — Duel- ling, .... 271 101 Uncertainty of Fame — Specimen of a History of the Reign of Anne I., 275 im. Exercise of the Fan, 279 W^. Will Honeycomb's Knowledge of the World — various Kinds of Pedants, 283 i#6. Spectator's visit to Sir R. de Coverley's Country Seat — the Knight's domestic Establishment, . . . 287 Character of Will Wimble, . ... 291 110. On Ghosts and Apparitions, 295 111. Immateriality of the Soul, . \ ' . . . 300 A Sunday in the Country — Sir Roger's Behaviour at Church, 304 115. Labour and Exercise, 308 117. On Witchcraft-^tory of Moll White, ... 312 119. Rural Manners-— Politeness, 316 V IH^. Instinct in Animals, . .... 820 viii TABLE OF CONTENTS. Pagb The Spectator {Continued^ 121. The Subject continued — Wisdom of Providence, . 324 A Visit with Sir Roger to the Country' Assizes, . . 830 123. Education of Country 'Squires — Story of Eudoxus and Leontine, ........ 334 124. Use and Difficulties of Periodical Papers, . . . 340 125. Mischiefs of Party Spirit, 344 126. The Subject continued — Sir Roger's Principles, . . 350 127. Letter on the Hoop-petticoat, 354 128. Difference of Temper in the Sexes — Female Levity, . 358 129. Fashions in Dress — How imitated in the Country, . 362 130. Interview of the Spectator and Sir Roger with a Gang of Gypsies, 366 131 Opinions entertained of the Spectator in the Country — Letter from Will Honeycomb, . . . . 369 135. Blessing of Being born an Englishman — ^The English Tongue, Z12 W. The Vision of Mirza, . • ^11 10), On great natural Geniuses, 383 162. On Inconstancy and Irresolution, .... 388 163. Consolation, 392 164. Story of Theodosius and Constantia, . . . 396 165. Introduction of French Phrases in the History of the War — ^Specimen in a Letter, . . . . . 403 166. Durability of Writing — Anecdote of an atheistical Au- thor, 407 169. On Good-nature, as the Effect of Constitution, . . 411 170 On Jealousy, 415 171. Subject continued — Address to those who have jealous Husbands, 420 173. Account of a Grinning-match, 427 177. Good-nature, as a Moral Virtue, 431 179. Various Dispositions of Readers — Account of a Whist- ling-match — Yawning, 436 181. Cruelty of Parents in the Affair of Marriage, . . 441 183. On Fable— FablS" of Pleasure and Pain, . . 446 TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX Pagb The Spectator (Continued), 184. Account of a remarkable Sleeper, .... 451 185. Zeal — various Kinds of Zealots, .... 454 186. On Infidelity, 458 189. Cruelty of Parents — Letter from a Father to his Son — Duty to Parents, 462 191. On the Whims of Lottery- Adventurers, . . . 466 195. On Temperance, 4*71 198. Character of the Salamanper end of the room, and were so very much improved by a knot of theoi'ists, who sat in the inner room, within the steams of the coffee-pot, that 1 there heard the whole Spanish monarchy disposed of, and all the line of Bourbon provided for, in less than a quarter of an hour." The "Grecian "in Devereux Court derived its name from a Greek named Constantme, who introduced, from the laud of Epicurus, a new and improved method of making coffee. Perhaps from this cause, or from having set u}) his apparatus close to the Temple, he drew the learned to his rooms. "All accounts of learning," saith the Tatler, "shall be under the title of the 'Grecian.'" The alumni appear to have disputed at a particular table. "I cannot keep an ingenious man," continues Bicker- staff, "to go daily to the 'Grecian' without allowing him some plain Spanish to be as able as others at the learned table." The glory of the "Grecian" outlasted that of the rest of the coffee-houses, and it remained a tavern till 1843. " Jonatuan's," in Change Alley, the general mart for stockjobbers, was * Spectator, No. 24. Ko. 1.] SPECTATOR. 7 a cluster of people, I always mix with tliem, though I never open my lips but in my own club. Thus I live in the world rather as a Spectator of mankind, than as one of the species ; by which means I have made myself a speculative statesman, soldier, merchant, and artizan, without ever meddling with any practical part in my life. I am very well versed in the theory of a husband or a father, and can dis- cern the errors in the oeconomy, business and diversion of others, better than those who are engaged in them ; as standers-by dis- cover blots, which are apt to escape those who are in the game. I never espoused any party with violence, and am resolved to observe an exact neutrality between the Whigs and Tories, un- less I shall be forced to declare >myself by the hostilities of either side. In short, I have acted in all the parts of my life as a looker-on, which is the character I intend to preserve in this paper. I have given the reader just so much of my history and cha- racter, as to let him see I am not altogether unqualified for the business I have undertaken. As for other particulars in my life and adventures, I shall insert them in following papers, as I shall see occasion. In the mean time, when I consider how much I have seen, read, and heard, I begin to blame my own taciturnity ; and since I have neither time nor inclination to communicate the fulness, of my heart in speech, I am resolved to do it in writing, and to print myself out, if possible, before I die. I have been often told by my friends, that it is pity so many useful discoveries which I have made should be in the possession of a silent man. For this reason, therefore, I shall publish a the precursor of the present Stock Exchange in Capel Court. The hero ot Mrs. Ceritlivre's comedy, "A Bold Stroke for a Wife," performs at "Jonathan's" his most successful deception on the city guardian of his mistress. The other coffee-houses will be noticed as they occur in the text, — * 8 SPECTATOR. sheet-full of thouglits every morning, for the benefit of my con- temporaries ; and if I can any way contribute to the diversion or improvement of the country in which I live, I shall leave it, when I am summoned out of it, with the secret satisfaction of thinking that I have not lived in vain. There are three very material points which I have not spoken to in this paper ; and which, for several important reasons, I must keep to myself, at least for some time : I mean an account of my name, my age, and my lodgings. I must confess, I would gratify my reader in any thing that is reasonable ; but as for these three particulars, though I am sensible they might tend very much tc the embellishment of my paper, I cannot yet come to a resolution of communicating them to the public. They would indeed draw me out of that obscurity which I have enjoyed for many years, and expose me in public places to several salutes and civilities, . which have been always very disagreeable to me ; for the greatest pain I can suffer, is the being talked to, and being stared at. It is for this reason likewise, that I keep my complexion and dress as very great secrets; though it is not impossible, but I may make discoveries of both in the progress of the work I have un- dertaken. After having been thus particular upon myself, I shall in to- morrow's paper give an account of those gentlemen who are con- cerned with me in this work ; for, as I have before intimated, a plan of it is laid and concerted (as all other matters of importance are) in a club.^ However, as my friends have engaged me to ^ The word club, as applied to convivial meetings, is derived from the Saxon cleafan, to divide, " because," says Skinner, "the expenses are divided into shares or portions." "Clubs wore more general in the da^'s of the " Spectator" than perhaps at any other period of our history. Throughout the previous half-century public discord had dissevered private society ; and, at the Restoration, men yearned for fellowship ; but as, even yet, political danger lurked under an unguarded expression or a rash toast, companions could not be No. 1.] SPECTATOR. 9 stand in the front, those who have a mind to correspond with me, may direct their letters to the SPECTATOR, at Mr. Buckley's, in Little Britain.^ For I must further acquaint the reader, too carefully chosen. Persons, therefore, whose political opinions and private tastes coincided, made a practice of meeting in clubs. This prin- ciple of congeniality took all manner of odd social turns ; but the political clubs of the time played an important part in history. The idea of uniting the authors of a periodical in a club — though an obvious one — was calculated to bring out sparkling contrasts of character. But it was not successfully elaborated. Each personage was greatly dis- sociated from the club in future papers. Hence the faults some critics have found with the character of Sir Roger ; for, taken in connection with the society, it is not so coherent as if the club scheme had been efficiently developed. But viewed separately, what — as the reader of the previous pages will own — can be more harmonious or natural ? The eccentric clubs were fruitful sources of satire to the "Spectator." He is merry on the "Mummers," the "Two-penny," the "Ugly," the "Fighting," the "Fringe-Glove," the "Hum-drum," the "Doldrum," the Everlasting," and the " Lovers' " clubs ; on clubs of fat men, of tall men, >f one-e^^ed men, and of men who lived in the same street. This last was 1 social arrangement almost necessary at a time when distant visits were impossible at night, not only from the bad condition of the streets, but from the ravages of the dastardly "Mohock Club ; " of which hereafter. — * ^ "This day is published, A Paper entitled The Spectator, which will' be continued every day. Printed for Sam. Buckley at the Dolphin, in Little Britain, and sold by A. Baldwin, in Warwick Lane." — Daily Courant, March 1st, 1711. The above names form the imprint to the " Spectator's " early papers. From ^o. 18 appears, in addition, "Charles Lillie [perfumer, bookseller, and Secretary to the Tatler's * Court of Honour '] at the corner of Beaufort Buildings, in the Strand." From the date, August 5th, 1712, (No. 449,) Jacob Tonson's imprint is appended. About that time he removed from Gray's Inn Gate to " the Strand, over against Catherine Street." Samuel Buckley had eventually an innocent hand in the discontinuance of the "Spectator." He was the "writer and printer" of the first daily newspaper — the " Daily Courant ; " and having published on the 7th of April, 1712, a memorial of the States-General reflecting on the English Government, he was brought in custody to the bar of the House of Com- mons. The upshot was some strong resolutions respecting the licentious- ness of the press (which had indeed been commented on in the Queen's Speech at the opening of Parliament) and the imposition of the halfpenny stamp on periodicals. To this addition to the price of the "Spectator " is attributed its downfall. — VOL. V. — 1* 10 SPECTATOR. [No. 2. that thongli our club meets ouly on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have appointed a Committee to sit every night, for the inspection of all such papers as may contribute to the advancement of the public weal. C.^ No. 2. FRIDAY, MARCH 2. Ast alii sex Et plures, uno conclamant ore. Juv. Sat. vii. 16T. Six more at least join their consenting voice. ^ The first of our society is a gentleman of Worcestershire, of an >ient descent, a baronet, his name Sir Roger de Coverly. His great grandfather was inventor of that famous country-dance ^ V. Introductory remarks. — G. '■^ Whenever any striking individuality appears in print, the public love to suppose that, instead of being the embodied representative of a class, it is an actual portrait. A thousand conjectures were afloat as to the original of Sir Roger de Coverly, at the time and long after the "Spectator's " papers were in current circulation. These were revived by a passage in the preface to Budgell's " Theoplirastus," in which he asserted in general terms that most of tlie characters in the " Spectator " were conspicuously known. It was not, however, till 1783, when Tyers named Sir John Packington of Westwood, Worcestershire, that any prototype to Sir Rogei* was definitively pointed out. Tyers's assertion is not tenable. Except that Sir Roger and Sir John were both baronets and lived in Worcestershire, each presents few points of similitude to the other : — Sir Roger was a disappointed bachelor ; Sir John was twice married: Sir Roger, although more than once returned knight of the shire, was not an ardent politician ; Sir John was, and sat for his native county in every parliament, save one, from his majority till his death. West wood House — *' in the middle of a wood that is cut into twelve large ridings ; the whole encompassed with a park of six or seven miles,"* — bears no greater resemblance to the description of Coverly Hall than the scores ot country-houses which liave wood about them. Sir Roger is neither litigant nor lawyer, despite the universal applause bestow- ed by the Quarter Session on his exj>ositions of "a passage in the Game Act." Sir John was a barrister, and besides having been Recorder of the * Nasb's Worcestershire. Ko. 2.] SPECTATOR. 11 which is called after him.^ All who know that shire, are very well acquainted with the parts and merits of Sir Roger. He is a gentleman that is very singular in his behaviour, but his singula- city of Worcester, proved himself so powerful a plaintiff that he ousted the then Bishop of Worcester from his place of Royal Almoner for inter- fering in the county election. The account of the " Spectator " himself and of each member of his club was most likely fictitious ; for the "Tatler" having been betrayed into personalities gave such grave offence, that Steele determined not to fall again into a like error. Had indeed the originals of Sir Roger and his club- companions existed among, as Budgell assert?, the " conspicuous charac- ters of the day," literary history would assuredly have revealed them. But a better witness than Budgell testifies to the reverse. The "Spectator" emphatically disclaims personality in various passages. In No. 262 he iays: "When I place an imaginary name at the head of a character, I ex- amine every syllable, every letter of it, that it may not bear any resem- blance to one that is real." In another place : "I would not make my- self merry with a piece of pasteboard that is invested with a public cha- racter." — * ^ The real sponsor to the joyous conclusion of every ball has only been recently revealed after a vigilant search. An autograph account by Ralph Thoresby, of the family of Calverley of Calverley in Yorkshire, dated 1717, and which is now in the possession of Sir W. Cal- verley Trevelyan, states that the tune of " Roger a Calverley " was named after Sir Roger of Calverley, who lived in the time of Richard the First. This knight, according to the custom of that period, kept minstrels, who took the name, from their office, of " Harper. Their descendants possess- ed lands in the neiglibourhood of Calverley, called Harperfroids and Har- per's Spring. "The seal of this Sir Roger, appended to one of his charters, is large, with a chevalier on horseback." The earliest printed copy of the tune which has yet been traced is in "a choice collection to a ground for a treble violin," by J. Playford, 1685. It appears again in 1695 in H. Playford's "Dancing Master." Mr. Chap- pell, author of the elaborate work on English Melodies, believes it to have been a hornpipe. That it was popular about the "Spectator's" time is shown from a passage in a satirical history of Powel the puppet-man (1715) : — "Upon the preludes being ended each party fell to bawling and calling for particular tunes. The hobnailed fellows, whose breeches and lungs seemed to be of the same leather, cried out for * Cheshire Round,' 'Roger of Coverley,' 'Jlison is gr^at; yet the voice of the people, when to p^ease the peoj^le is the purpose, deserves regard. In this question, I cannot but think the people iu the right.' Y. Jolinson's Lives of the Poets. Smith, p. 22.— G. 66 S r E C T A T O 11 [No. 21 are each of them over-burdened with practitioners, and filled with multitudes of ingenious gentlemen that starve one another. We may divide the clergy into generals, field-officers, and subalterns. Among the first we may reckon bishops, deans, and archdeacons. Among the second are doctors of divinity, pre- bendaries, and all that wear scarfs. The rest are comprehended under the subalterns. As for the first class, our constitution preserves it from any redundancy of incumbents, notwithstanding competitors are numberless. Upon a strict calculation, it is found that there has been a great exceeding of late years in the second division, several brevets having been granted for the con- verting of subalterns into scarf-officers ; insomuch, that within my memory the price of lustring is raised above two-pence in a yard. As for the subalterns, they are not to be numbered. Should our clergy once enter into the corrupt practice of the laity, by the splitting of their freeholds, they would be able to carry most of the elections in England. The body of the law is no less encumbered with superfluous members, that are like Virgil's army, which he tells us was so crowded, many of them had not room to use their weapons. This prodigious society of men may be divided into the litigious and peaceable. Under the first are comprehended all those who are carried down in coach-fulls to Westminster Hall, every morning in term-time. Martial's description of this species of lawyers is full of humour : Iras et verba locaiit. * Men that hire out their words and anger ; ' that are more or less passionate according as they are paid for it, and allow their client a quantity of wrath proportionable to the fee which they receive from him. I must, however, observe to the reader, that above three parts of those whom I reckon among the litigious, No. 21.] SPECTATOR. 67 are such as are only quarrelsome in their hearts, and have no opportunity of shewing their passion at the bar. Nevertheless, as they do not know what strifes may arise, they appear at the hall every day, that they may show themselves in readiness to enter the lists, whenever there shall be occasion for them. The peaceable lawyers are, in the first place, many of the benchers of the several inns of court, who seem to be the dio:nita- ries of the law, and are endowed with those qualifications of mind that accomplish a man rather for a ruler than a pleader. These men live peaceably in their habitations, eating once a daj^, and dancing once a year, for the honour of the respective societies.^ Another numberless branch of peaceable lawyers, are those young men, who being placed at the inns of court in order to study the laws of their country, frequent the playhouse more than Westminster- hall, and are seen in all public assemblies, except in a court of justice. I shall say nothing of those silent and busy multitudes that are employed within doors, in the drawing up of writings and conveyances ; nor of those greater numbers that palliate their want of business with a pretence to such chamber- practice. If, in the third place, we look into the profession of physic, we shall find a most formidable body of men : the sight of them is enough to make a man serious ; for we may lay it down as a maxim, that when a nation abounds in physicians, it grows thin of people. Sir William Temple is very much puzzled to find out a reason why the northern hive, as he calls it, does not send out such prodigious swarms, and over-run the world with Goths and Vandals, as it did formerly ; b^t had that excellent author observed, that there were no students in physic among the sub- jects of Thor and Woden, and that this science very much flour- ishes in the north at present, he might have found a better solu- V. Dugdale's Origines Juridiciales. — C 68 SPECTATOR. [No. 21 tion for this difficulty than any of those he has made nse of. This body of nien, in our own country, may be described like the British army in Caesar's time : some of them slay in chariots, and some on foot. If the infantry do less execution than the chario- teers, it is because they cannot be carried so soon into all quarters of the town, and dispatch so much business in so short a time. Besides this body of regular troops, there are stragglers, who, without being duly listed and enrolled, do infinite mischief to those who are so unlucky as to fall into their hands. There are, besides the above-mentioned, innumerable retainers to physic, who^ for want of other patients, amuse themselves with the stifling of cats in an air-pump, cutting up dogs alive^ or im- paling of insects upon the point of a needle for microscopical observations ; besides those that are employed in the gathering of weeds, and the chace of butterflies : not to mention the cockleshell- merchants and spider-catchers. When I consider how each of these professions are crowded with multitudes that seek their livelihood in them, and how many men of merit there are in each of them, who may be rather said to be of the science, than the profession ; I very much wonder at the humour of parents, who will not rather chuse to place their sons in a way of life where an honest industry cannot but thrive, than in stations where the greatest probity, learning, and good sense, may miscarry. How many men are country curates, that might have made themselves aldermen of London, by a right im- provement of a smaller sum of money than what is usually laid out upon a learned education ! A sober, frugal person, of slender parts, and a slow apprehension, might have thrived in trade, though he starves upon physic ; as a man would be well enough pleased to buy silks of one, whom he would not venture^ to feel There woul 1 be no objection to this raillery, if it were ft that raillery should be at all employed on a subject of ihis nature. — II. ^ VciUnre, is a neutral veib, and so cannot stand in this construction. It No. 21.1 spp:ctator. 69 his pulse. Yagellius is careful, studious, and obliging, but withal a little thick-skulled; he has not a single client, but might have had abundance of customers. The misfortune is, that parents take a liking to a particular profession, and therefore desire that their sons may be of it. "Whereas, in so great an affair of life, they should consider the genius and abilities of their children more than their own inclinations.^ It is the great advantage of a trading nation, that there are very few in it so dull and heavy, who may not be placed in sta- tions of life, which may give them an opportunity of making their fortunes. A well regulated commerce is not, like law, physic, or divinity, to be overstocked with hands ; but, on the contrary, flourishes by multitudes, and gives employment to all its profes* sors. Fleets of merchantmen are so many floating shops, that vend our wares and manufactures in all the markets of the world, and find out chapmen under both the tropics. — C. ^ This idea is carried out with much humour in the character of "Will AVimble, No. 108. V. also Hon. Mr. Thomas Gules. Tatler, 256, by Steele and Addison. — G. sboul-1 be employ, call hi, or some sucli transitive verb, of wliich wJioirC* might be governed ; and through which the />er.so7i and the act, i. e. ^'wh(y)tC* and ^^feel " should be necessarily connected. — H. 70 SPECTATOR. [No. 23 No. 23.1 TUESDAY, MARCH 27. Saevit atrjx Yolscens, nec teli confsfncit usquam Auctorem, nec quo se ardens immittere possit. YiRG. ^n. ix. 420. Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and gazing round, Dcscr3'^''d not him who gave tlie fatal wound ; Nor knew to fix revenge Drtden. There is nothing that more betrays a base ungenerous spirit, than the giving of secret stabs to a man's reputation. Lampoons and satires, that are written with wit and spirit, are like poisoned 1 The following endorsement at the top of this paper, ]^o. 23, is in a set of the Spectator, in 12nio., in the edition of 1712, which contains some MS. notes by a Spanish merchant, who lived at the time of the original publication. THE CHARACTER OF DR. SWIFT. This was Mr. Blundel's opinion, and whether it was well-grounded, ill- grounded, or ungrounded, probably he was not singular in tlie thought. Tlie intimacy between Swift, Steele, and Addison was now over ; and that they were about this time estranged, appears from Swift's own testimony, dated March 16, 1710-11. See Swift's Works, edit. or. 8vo., vol. xxii. p. 188. See No. 509, Blundel's MS. Note; et passim.— Neither the Spanish merchant nor Mr. Blundel did much honor to Ad- dison's sincerity, for he was never on bad terms with Swift ; and tells him in a very friendly letter, written several years after this, that he has always honoured him for his good nature. — V. vol. ii. p. 543. — G. * Tlie giving of. This use of the participle, instead of the substantive^ is agreeable to the English idiom, and has a good effect in our language, which in this, as in other instances, resembles the Greek, much more than the Latin tongue. But our polite writers, being gv^nerally more conversant in the latter of these languages, have gradually introduced the substantive^ or a verb in the infini-tive mood, into the j'lace of the participle. Thus, th('v would s:iy, detraction,''^ or to detract from the reputation of others slicws a base spirit." Yet the practice is not so far established, but that the other mode of expies^^ion mny, sometimes (though more sparingly, perhaps, than heretofore), be employed. An exact writer, indeed, would not set out with a sentence in this form ; but, in the body of a discourse, " currente calaino," he would not scruple to make use of it. Never to em- ploy the participle, would be finical and alTect'^d : to employ it constantly, or fi'equently, would now bethought careless; but to employ it occasion- ally, contributes plainl}^ to the variet}', and, 1 think, to the grace, of a good Knglish style. — H. No. 23.] SPECTATOR. 71 darts, wliich not only inliict a wound, but make it incurable. For this reason I am very much troubled when I see the talents of humour and ridicule in the possession of an ill-natured man. There cannot be a greater gratification to a barbarous and inhu- man wit, than to stir up sorrow in the heart of a private person, to raise uneasiness among near relations, and to expose whole families to derision, at the same time that he remains unseen and undiscovered. If, besides the accomplishments of being witty and ill-natured, a man is vicious into the bargain, he is one of the most mischievous creatures that can enter into a civil society. His satire will then chiefly fall upon those who ought to be the most exempt from it. Virtue, merit, and every thing that is praiseworthy, will be made the subject of ridicule and buffoonery. It is impossible to enumerate the evils which arise from these arrows that fly in the dark ; ^ and I know no other excuse that is or can be made for them, than that the wounds they give are only imaginary, and produce nothing more than a. secret shame or sorrow in the mind of the sufiering person. It must indeed be confessed, that a lampoon or a satire do not carry in them robbery or murder ; but at the same time, how many are there that would not rather lose a considerable sum of money, or even life itself, than be set up as marks of infamy and derision ? And in this case a man should consider, that an injury is not to be measured by the notions of him that gives, but of him that receives it. Those who can put the best countenance upon the outrages of this nature which are offered them, are not without their secret anguish. I have often observed a passage in Socrates's behaviour at his death, in a light wherein none of the critics have considered it. That excellent man, entertaining his friends, a little before he ^ Which arise from, these arrows that Jly in the dark. This sentence had been more exact, and less languid, if he had said, Innumerahle evi/s arise from those arrows that Jly hi the dark. — H 72 SPECTATOR. [No. 23. drank the bowl of poison, with a discourse on the immortality of the soul, at his entering upon it says, that he does not believe any the most comic genius can censure him for talking upon such a subject at such a time. This passage, I think, evidently glances upon Aristophanes, who writ a comedy on purpose to ridicule the discourses of that divine philosopher. It has been observed by many writers that Socrates was so little moved at this piece of buffoonery, that he was several times present at its being acted upon the stage, and never expressed the least resentment of it. But with submission, I think the remark I have here made shews us that this unworthy treatment made an impression upon Lis mind, though he had been too wise to discover it. When Julius Caesar was lampooned by Catullus, he invited him to a supper, and treated him with such a generous civility, that he made the poet his friend ever after. Cardinal Mazarine gave the same kind of treatment to the learned Quillet, who had reflect- ed upon his eminence in a famous Latin poem. The cardinal sent for him, and, after some kind expostulations upon what he had written, assured him of his esteem, and dismissed him with a promise of the next good abbey that should fall, which he accord- ingly conferred upon him in a few months after. This had so good an effect upon the author, that he dedicated the second edi- tion of his book to the cardinal, after having expunged the passages which had given him offence. Sextus Quintus was not of so generous and forgiving a tem- per. Upon his being made pope, the statue Pasquin was one night dressed in a very dirty shirt, with an excuse written under it, that he was forced to wear foul linen because his laundress was made a princess. This was a reflection upon the pope's sister, who, before the promotion of her brother, was in those mean circumstances that Pasquin represented her. As this pasquinade made a great noise in Rome, the pope offered a considerable sum of money to any No, 23.] SPECTATOR. 73 person that should discover the author of it. The author rely- ing upon his holiness's generosity, as also on some private over- tures which he had received from him, made the discovery him- self ; upon which the pope gave him the reward he had promised, but at the same time, to disable the satirist for the future, ordered his tongue to be cut out, and both his hands to be chop- ped off. Aretine is too trite an instance.^ Everyone knows that all the kings of Europe were his tributaries. Nay, there is a let- ter of his extant, in which he makes his boasts that he had laid the Sophi of Persia under contribution.'^ Though, in the various examples which I have here drawn toge- ther, these several great men behaved themselves very differently towards the wits of the age v^ ho had reproached them ; they all plainly shewed that they were very sensible of their reproaches of them, and consequently that they received them as very great inju- ries. For my own part, I would never trust a man that I thought was capable of giving these secret wounds ; and cannot but think that he would hurt the persoD, whose reputation he thus assaults, in his body or in his fortune, could he do it with the same security. There is indeed something very barbarous and inhuman in the ordinary scribblers of lampoons. An innocent young lady shall be exposed for an unhappy feature. A father of a family turned 1 Pietro Aretino, bom at Arezzo in 1492 — died 1556 — poet and prose writer; vain, licentious, and mean: equally distinguished by his base adu- lation and bitter invective. The pensions which he received were as much the reward of his flattery, as bribes against his satire. His devotional writings look strangely by the side of his comedies and sonetti lussuriosi : yet they won him such favor at Rome, that he was not without hopes of obtaining the Cardinal's hat. It was on a medal struck by his own direc- tions that the title, which Addison gives him, is found — Bivus Petrus Aretinus, Jlagellum principum. — G. 2 V. Aretino's lett., L. vi. fol. 115.— C. a Circumstances that Pasquin represented her. Carelessly and ellipti- cally expressed, vol. iv. — H. VOL. V. — 4 74 SPECTATOR. [^O. 23. into ridicule for some domestic calamit3^ A wife be made uneasy all her life for a misinterpreted word or action. Nay, a good, a temperate, and a just man, shall be put out of countenance by the representation of those qualities that should do him hon- our. So pernicious a thing is wit, when it is not tempered with virtue and humanity. I have indeed heard of heedless inconsiderate writers, that with- out any malice have sacrificed the reputation of their friends and acquaintance, to a certain levity of temper, and a silly ambition of distinguishing themselves by a spirit of raillery and satire : as if it were not infinitely more honourable to be a good-natured man than a wit. Where there is this little petulant humour in an author, he is often very mischievous without designing to be so. For which reason I always lay it down as a rule, that an indiscreet man is more hurtful than an ill-natured one ; for as the one will only attack his enemies, and those he wishes ill to, the other in- jures indifi"erently both friends and foes. 1 cannot forbear, on this occasion, transcribing a fable out of Sir Roger L'Estrange, which accidentally lies before me. A company of waggish boys were watching of frogs at the side of a pond, and still as any of them put up their heads, they'd be pelting them down again with stones. ^ Children,' says one of the frogs, ^ you never consider that though this be play to you, 'tis death to us.' " As this week is in a manner set apart and dedicated to serious thoughts, I shall indulge myself in such speculations as may not be altogether unsuitable to the season ; and in the mean time, as the setting in ourselves a charitable frame of mind is a work very proper for the time, I have in this paper endeavoured to expose that particular breach of charity which has been generally over- looked by divines, because they are but few who can be guilty of it. C. No. 25.] SPECTATOR. 75 No. 25. THURSDAY, MARCH 29. JEgrescitqiie medendo. ViRG. Mn. xii. 46. And sickens by the very means of health. The following letter will explain itself, and needs no apology. ^SlR, I AM one of that sickly tribe who are commonly known by the name of valetudinarians; and do confess to you, that I first con- tracted this ill habit of body, of rather of mind, by the study of physic. I no sooner began to peruse books of this nature, but I found my pulse was irregular ; and scarce ever read the account of any disease, that I did not fancy myself afflicted with.^ Doctor Sy- denham's learned treatise of fevers threw me into a lingering hectic, which hung upon me all the while I was reading that excellent piece. I then applied myself to the study of several authors, who have written upon phthisical distempers, and by that means fell into a consumption ; till at length growing very fat, I was in a manner shamed out of that imagination. Not long after this I found in myself all the symptoms of the gout, except pain : but was cured of it by a treatise upon the gravel, written by a very ingenious author, who (as it is usual for physicians to convert one distemper into another) eased me of the gout by giving me the stone. I at length studied myself into a complication of distempers ; but accidentally taking into my hand that ingenious discourse written by Sanctorius, I was resolved to direct myself by a scheme of rules which I had collected from his observations. The learned world are very well acquainted with that gentleman's invention ; who, for the better carrying on of his experiments, contrived a cer- 1 Mr. Tickell, in his preface to Addison's works, says that Addison never had a regular pulse, which Steele questions, in his dedication of the Drum- mer to Mr. Congreve. — C. 76 SPECTATOR. [No. 25. tain mathematical chair/ which was so artificially hung upon springs, that it would weigh any thing as well as a pair of scales. By this means he discovered how many ounces of his food passed by perspiration, what quantity of it was turned into nourishment, and how much went away by the other channels and distributions of nature. ^ Having provided myself with this chair, I used to study, eat, drink, and sleep in it ; insomuch that I may be said, for these three last years, to have lived in a pair of scales. I compute myself, when I am in full health, to be precisely two hundred weight, falling short of it about a pound after a day's fast, and exceeding it as much after a very full meal ; so that it is my con- tinual employment to trim the balance between these two volatile pounds in my constitution. In my ordinary meals I fetch myself up to two hundred weight and half a pound ; and if after having dined I find myself fall short of it, I drink just so much small- beer, or eat such a quantity of bread, as is sufficient to make me weight. In my greatest excesses I do not transgress more than the other half pound ; which, for my health's sake, I do the first Mon- day in every month. As soon as I find myself duly poised after 1 Sanctorius, or Santorius, the ingenious inventor of the first thermometer, as has been shown in a note on Tatler, No. 220, was a celebrated profes- sor of medicine in the University of Padua early in the XVIIth century, who, by means of a weighing chair of his own invention, made and ascertain- ed many curious and important discoveries relative to insensible perspiration On this subject he published at Venice in 1634, 16mo., a very ingenious and interesting book, entitled De Me Jieina Statica, which has gone through very many editions, and has been translated into all modern languages. The Latin edition before me is 2 vols. 12mo. Parisiis, 1725 ; by glancing at which, in a bookseller's shop, the annotator was led to believe that Santo- rius had lived to befriend the important invention of inoculation for the smallpox, as is said in a note on the Tatler, No. 55 ; but having bought the book, he soon after discovered that the paper DeYariolarum Insitioue, annexed to the edition of Santorius above-mentioned, was written origi- aally by Dr. Keilh— C. No. 25.] SPECTATOR. 77 dinner, I walk till I have perspired five ounce.5 and four scruples ; and when I discover, by my chair, that I am so far reduced, I fall to my books, and study away three ounces more. As for the remaining parts of the pound, I keep no account of them. I do not dine and sup by the clock, but by my chair ; for when that informs me my pound of food is exhausted, I conclude myself to be hungry, and lay in another with all diligence. In my days of abstinence I lose a pound and a half ; and on solemn fasts am two pounds lighter than on other days in the year. ' I allow myself, one night with another, a quarter of a pound of sleep within a few grains more or less ; and if upon my rising I find that I have not consumed my whole quantity, I take out the rest in my chair. Upon an exact calculation of what I ex- pended and received the last year, which I always register in a book, I find the medium to be two hundred weight, so that I cannot discover that I am impaired one ounce in my health during a whole twelvemonth. And yet, sir, notwithstanding this my great care to ballast myself equally every day, and to keep my body in its proper poise, so it is that I find myself in a sick and languishing condition. My complexion is grown very sallow, my pulse low, and my body hydropical. Let me therefore beg you, sir, to con- sider me as your patient, and to give me more certain rules to walk by than those I have already observed, and you will very much oblige ^ Your humble servant.' This letter puts me in mind of an Italian epitaph written on the monument of a Valetudinarian; Stavo ben^ ma jper star meg - lio^ sto qui : ^ which it is imjpossible to translate. The fear of death often proves mortal, and sets people on methods to save their lives, which infallibly destroy them. This is a reflection ^ I was well, but trying to be better, I am here. — L. 78 SPECTATOR. [No. 25 made by some historiauSj upon observing that there are many more thousands killed in a flight than in a battle ; and may be applied to those multitudes of imaginary sick persons that break their constitutions by physic, and throw themselves into the arms of death, by endeavouring to escape it. This method is not only dangerous, but below the practice of a reasonable creature. To consult the preservation of life, as the only end of it, to make our health our business, to engage in no action that is not part of a regimen, or course of physic ; are purposes so abject, so mean, so unworthy human nature, that a generous soul would rather die than submit to them. Besides, that a continual anxiety for life vitiates all the relishes of it, and casts a gloom over the whole face of nature ; as it is impossible we should take delight in any thing that we are every moment afraid of losing. I do not mean, by what I have here said, that I think any one to blame for taking due care of their health. On the contrary, as cheerfulness of mind, and capacity for business, are in a great mea- sure the effects of a well-tempered constitution, a man cannot be at too much pains to cultivate and preserve it. But this care, which we are prompted to, not only by common sense, but by duty and instinct, should never engage us in groundless fears, melan- choly apprehensions, and imaginary distempers, which are natural to every man who is more anxious to live than how to live. In short, the preservation of life should be only a secondary concern, and the direction of it our principal. If we have this frame of mind, we shall take the best means to preserve life, without being over solicitous about the event ; and shall arrive at that point of felicity which Martial has mentioned as the perfection of happi- ness, of neither fearing nor wishing for death. In answer to the gentleman, who tempers his health by ounces and by scruples, and instead of complying with those natural solicitations of hunger and thirst, drowsiness or love of exercise. No. 26.] SPECTATOR. 79 governs himself by the prescriptions of his chair, I shall tell him a short fable. Jupiter, says the mythologist, to reward the piety of a certain countryman, promised to give him whatever he would ask. The countryman desired that he might have the manage- ment of the weather in his own estate : He obtained his request, and immediately distributed rain, snow, and sunshine among his several fields, as he thought the nature of the soil required. At the end of the year, when he expected to see a more than ordinary crop, his harvest fell infinitely short of that of his neighbours : upon which (says the fable) he desired Jupiter to take the weather again into his own hands, or that otherwise he should utterly ruin himself. C. No. 26. FRIDAY, MARCH 30. Pallida mors anquo pulsat pede pauperura tabernas Eegumque turres, O beaie Sexti. Vitas summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam : Jam te premct nox, fabulaeque manes, Et domus exilis Plutonia. HoR.l. 00. XV. 18. With equal foot, rich friend, impartial fate Knocks at the cottage, and the palace gate ; Life's span forbids thee to extend thy cares, And stretch thy hopes beyond thy years ; Night soon will seize, and you must quickly go To story'd ghosts, and Pluto's house below. Creech. When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by my- self in Westminster Abbey ; where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the building, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is not disagreeable. I yesterday passed a whole afternoon 80 SPECTATOR. [No. 26. in the churcli-yard, the cloisters, and the church, amusing myself with the tombstones and inscriptions that I met with in those several regions of the dead. Most of them recorded nothing else of the buried person, but that he was born upon one day, and died upon another : the whole history of his life being comprehended in those two circumstances, that are common to all mankind. T could not but look upon these registers of existence, whether of brass or marble, as a kind of satire upon the departed persons ; who had left no other memorial of them, but that they were born and that they died. They put me in mind of several persons mentioned in the battles of heroic poems, who have sounding names given them, for no other reason but that they may be killed, and are celebrated for nothing but being knocked on the head. VKoLVKov re M^Boi/rd re Q^pfjiXoxov tc. Glaucumque, Medontaque, Thersiloclmmque. YlRG. Glances, and Medon, and Thersilochus. The life of these men is finely described in holy writ by ' the path of an arrow,' which is immediately closed up and lost. Upon my going into the church, I entertained myself with the digging of a grave ; and saw in every shovelful of it that was thrown up, the fragment of a bone or skull intermixt with a kind of fresh mouldering earth, that some time or other had a place in the composition of a human body. Upon this I began to con- sider with myself what innumerable multitudes of people lay con- fused together under the pavement of that ancient cathedral ; how men and women, friends and enemies, priests and soldiers, monks and prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, and blended together in the same common mass ; how beauty, No. 26.] SPECTATOR. 81 strength, and youth, with old-age, weakness, and deformity, lay undistinguished in the same promiscuous heap of matter. After having thus surveyed this great magazine of mortality, as it were, in the lump ; I examined it more particularly by the accounts which I found on several of the monuments which are raised in every quarter of that ancient fabric.^ Some of them were covered with such extravagant epitaphs, that, if it were pos- sible for the dead person to be acquainted with them, he would blush at the praises which his friends have bestowed upon him. There are others so excessively modest, that they deliver the character of the person departed in Greek or Hebrew, and by that means are not understood once in a twelvemonth. In the poetical quarter, I found there were poets who had no monu- ments, and monuments which had no poets. I observed, indeed, that the present war had filled the church with many of these un- inhabited monuments, which had been erected to the memory of persons whose bodies were perhaps buried in the plains of Blen- heim, or in the bosom of the ocean. I could not but be very much delighted with several modern epitaphs, which are written with great elegance of expression and justness of thought, and therefore do honor to the living as well as to the dead. As a foreigner is very apt to conceive an idea of ^ the ignorance or politeness of a nation, from the turn of their public monuments and inscriptions, they should be submit- ted to the perusal of men of learning and genius, before they are put in execution. Sir Cloudesly Shovel's monument has very often given me great offence : instead of the brave rough English Admiral, which was the distinguishing character of that plain gallant man, he is represented on his tomb by the figure of a "Accounts, which — Monuments, which. — H. ^If he had said, To pass a judgment on" the double genitive case had been avoided. — H. VOL. V. — 4* SPECTATOR. [No. 26. beau, dressed in a long perriwigj and reposing himself upon vel- v^et cushions under a canopy of state. The inscription is answer- able to the monument ; for instead of celebrating the many re- markable actions he had performed in the service of his country, it acquaints us only with the manner of his death, in which it was impossible for him to reap any honor. The Dutch, whom we are apt to despise for want of genius, show an infinitely greater taste of antiquity and politeness in their buildings and works of this nature, than what we meet with in those of our own country. The monuments of their admirals, which have been erected at the public expense, represent them like themselves ; and are adorned with rostral crowns and naval ornaments, with beautiful festoons of sea-weed, shells, and coral. But to return to our subject. I have left the repository of our English Kings for the contemplation of another day, when I shall find my mind disposed for so serious an amusement. I know that entertainments of this nature are apt to raise dark and dismal thoughts in timorous minds, and gloomy imaginations ; but for my own part, though I am always serious, I do not know what it is to be melancholy ; and can therefore take a view of nature in her deep and solemn scenes, with the same pleasure as in her most gay and delightful ones. By this means I can im- prove myself with those objects, which others consider with ter- ror. When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out ; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tomb-stone, my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow : when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and No. 28.] SPECTATOR. 83 astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of* some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together. C. 1^0. 28. MOi^DAY, APRIL 2. ^-^Neque semper arcum Teudit Apollo. HoR. Od. 10, V. 19. Nor does Apollo always bend his bow. I SHALL here present my reader with a letter from a projector, concerning a new office which he thinks may very much contri- bute to the embellishment of the city, and to the driving bar- barity out of our streets. I consider it as a satire upon pro- jectors in general, and a lively picture of the whole art of modern criticism. ' Sir, ^ Observing that you have thoughts of creating certain officers under you, for the inspection of several petty enormities which you yourself cannot attend to ; and finding daily absurdi- ties hung upon the sign-posts of this city,^ to the great scandal of foreigners, as well as those of our own country, who are curious spectators of the same : I do humbly propose, that you would be pleased to make me your Superintendent of all such 1 Y. Tatler with Nichols's notes, No. 18-87.— G. When I read the several dates of the tombs, o f some, (fee] Better thus, * When, in reading the seieral dates of the tombs] I find that some, (fee. — H. 84 SPECTATOR. [No. 2& figures and devices as are or shall be made use of on this occa slon ; with full powers to rectify or expunge whatever I shall find irregular or defective. For v/ant of such an officer, there is nothing like sound literature and good sense to be met with in those objects that are every where thrusting themselves out to the eye, and endeavouring to become visible. Our streets are filled with blue boars, black swans, and red lions ; not to men- tion flying pigs, and hogs in armour, with many other creatures more extraordinary than any in the deserts of Africa. Strange ! that one who has all the birds and beasts in nature to chuse out of, should live at the sign of an E?is Rationis ! ^ My first task therefore should be, like that of Hercules, to clear the city from monsters. — In the second place I would for- bid, that creatures of jarring and incongruous natures should be joined together in the same sign ; such as the bell and the neats- tongue, the dog and gridiron. The fox and goose may be sup- posed to have met ; but what has the fox and the seven stars to do together ? And when did the lamb and dolphin ever meet, except upon a sign-post ? As for the cat and fiddle, there is a conceit in it ; and therefore I do not intend that any thing I have here said should affect it. I must however observe to you upon this subject, that it is usual for a young tradesman, at his first setting up, to add to his sign that of the master whom he served ; as the husband, after marriage, gives a place to his mistress's arms in his own coat. This I take to have given rise to many of those absurdities which are committed over our heads ; and, as I am informed, first occasioned the three nuns and a hare, which we see so frequently joined together. I would therefore establish certain rules, for the determining how far one trades- man may give the sign of another, and in what cases he may be allowed to quarter it with his own. ^ In the third place, I would enjoin every shop to make use No. 28.1 SPECTATOR. 85 of a sign which bears some affinity to the wares in which it deals. What can be more inconsistent than to see a bawd at the sign of the Angel, or a tailor at the lion ? A cook should not live at the boot, nor a shoemaker at the roasted pig ; and yet, for want of this regulation, I have seen a goat set up before the door of a perfumer, and the French King's head at a sword-cutler's. ' An ingenious foreigner observes, that several of those gen- tlemen who value themselves upon their families, and overlook such as are bred to trade, bear the tools of their forefathers in their coats of arms. I will not examine how true this is in fact ; but though it may not be necessary for posterity thus to set up the sign of their forefathers ; I think it highly proper for those who actually profess the trade, to shew some such marks of it before their doors. * When the name gives an occasion for an ingenious sign-post, I would likewise advise the owner to take that opportunity of let- ting the world know who he is. It would have been ridiculous for the ingenious Mrs. Salmon to have lived at the sign of the trout ; for which reason she has erected before her house the figure of the fish that is her namesake. Mr. Bell has likewise distin- guished himself by a device of the same nature : and here, sir, I must beg leave to observe to you, that this particular figure of a bell has given occasion to several pieces of wit in this kind. A man of your reading must know that Able Drugger gained great applause by it in the time of Ben Johnson. Our apocryphal heathen god is also represented by this figure ; which, in conjunc- tion with the dragon, makes a very handsome picture in several of our streets.^ As for the Bell Savage, which is the sign of a savage man standing by a bell, I was formerly very much puzzled upon the conceit of it, till I accidentally fell into the reading of 1 St. George.— 0. 86 SPECTATOPw. [No. 28 an old romance translated out of the French ; which gives an ac- count of a very beautiful woman who was found in a wilderness, and is called in the French La Belle Sauvage^ and is every where translated by our countrymen the Bell Savage. This piece of philology will, I hope, convince you that I have made sign- posts my study, and consequently qualified myself for the employ- ment which I solicit at your hands. But before I conclude my letter, I must communicate to you another remark which I have made upon the subject with which I am now entertaining you, namely, that I can give a shrewd guess at the humour of the in- habitant by the sign that hangs before his door. A surly choleric fellow, generally makes choice of a bear ; as men of milder dis- positions frequently live at the lamb. Seeing a punch-bowl painted upon a sign near Charing- cross, and very curiously gar- nished, with a couple of angels hovering over it, and squeezing a lemon into it, I had the curiosity to ask after the master of the house, and found upon inquiry, as I had guessed by the little agremens upon his sign, that he was a Frenchman. I know, sir, it is not requisite for me to enlarge upon these hints to a gentle- man of your great abilities ; so, humbly recommending myself to 3^our favour and patronage, ' I remain,' &c. I shall add to the foregoing letter another, which came to me by the same penny-post. ^ Frcm my own apartment near Charing- cross. ^ HONOURED SIR, * Having heard that this nation is a great encourager of inge- nuity, I have brought with me a rope-dancer that was caught in one of the woods belonging to the Great Mogul. He is by birth a monkey ; but swings upon a rope, takes a pipe of tobacco, and 1 V. No. 66, by Steele.— G. No. 29.] SPECTATOR. 87 drinks a glass of ale, like any reasonable creature. He gives great satisfaction to the quality ; and if they will make a subscrip- tion for him, I will send for a brother of his out of Holland that is a very good tumbler ; and also for another of the same family whom I design for my merry-andrew, as being an excellent mimic, and the greatest droll in the country where he now is. I hope to have this entertainment in a readiness for the next winter ; and doubt not but it will please more than the opera or puppet-show. I will not say that a monkey is a better man than some of the opera heroes ; but certainly he is a better representative of a man than the most artificial composition of wood and wire. If you will be pleased to give me a good word in your paper, you shall be every night a spectator at my show for nothing;. ^ I am ' &c. C. No. 29. TUESDAY, APRIL 3. Sermo lingua concinnus utraque Suavior : ut Ohio nota si commista Falerni est HoR. I. Sat. X. 23. Botli tongues united sweeter sounds produce, Like Chian mix d with the Falernian juice. There is nothing that has more startled ourEnglish audience, than the Italian recitativo at its first entrance upon the stage. People were wonderfully surprised to hear generals singing the word of command, and ladies delivering messages in music. Our countrymen could not forbear laughing when they heard a lover chanting out a billet-doux, and even the superscription of a letter set to a tune. The famous blunder in an old play of * Enter a king and two fiddlers solus,' was now no longer an ab- surdity; when it was impossible for a hero in a desert, or a prin- 88 SPECTATOR. [No. 29. cess in her closet, to speak any thing unaccompanied with musi- cal instruments. But however this Italian method of acting in recitativo might appear ^ at first hearing, I cannot but think it much more just than that which prevailed in our English opera before this inno- vation; the transition from an air to recitative music being more natural, than the passing from a song to plain and ordinary speak- ing, which was the common method in Purcell's operas. The only fault I find in our present practice, is the making use of Italian recitativo with English words. To go to the bottom of this matter, I must observe, that the tone or (as the French call it) the accent of every nation in their ordinary speech, is altogether different from that of every other people ; as we may see even in the Welsh and Scotch, who bor- der so near upon us. By the tone or accent, I do not mean the pronunciation of each particular word, but the sound of the whole sentence. Thus it is very common for an English gentleman, when he hears a French tragedy^ to complain that the actors all of them speak in a tone ; and therefore he very wisely prefers his own countrymen, not considering that a foreigner complains of the same tone in an English actor. For this reason, the recitative music in every language, should be as different as the tone or accent of each language ; for other- wise, what may properly express a passion in one language, will not do it in another. Every one who has been long in Italy, knows very well, that the cadences in the recitativo bear a re- mote aiB&nity to the tone of their voices in ordinary conversation ; or, to speak more properly, are only the accents of their lan- guage made more musical and tuneful. Thus the notes of interrogation, or admiration, in the Italian ^ Might appcarl I should rather have said "might affect us at first hearing." — H. No. 29.] SPECTATOR. 89 music, (if one may so call them,) which resemble their accents in discourse on such occasions, are not unlike the ordinary toneii of an English voice when we are angry ; insomuch that I have often seen our audiences extremely mistaken as to what has been doing upon the stage, and expecting to see the hero knock down his messenger, when he has been asking him a question ; or fan- cying that he quarrels with his friend, when he only bids him good-morrow. For this reason the Italian artists cannot agree with our Eng- lish musicians, in admiring Purcell's compositions, and thinking his tunes so wonderfully adapted to his words ; because both na- tions do not always express the same passions by the same sounds. I am therefore humbly of opinion, that an English composer should not follow the Italian recitative too servilely, but make use of many gentle deviations from it, in compliance with his own native language. He may copy out of it all the lulling softness and ' dying falls,' (as Shakespear calls them,) but should still re- member that he ought to accommodate himself to an English au- dience ; and by humouring the tone of our voices in ordinary conversation, have the same regard to the accent of his own Ian guage, as those persons had to theirs whom he professes to imi- tate. It is observed, that several of the singing birds of our own country learn to sweeten their voices, and mellow the harshness of their natural notes, by practising under those that come from warmer climates. In the same manner I would allow the Italian opera to lend our English music as much as may grace and soften it, but never entirely to annihilate and destroy it. Let the infusion be as strong as you please, but still let the subject mat- ter of it be English. A composer should fit his music to the genius of the people, and consider that the delicacy of hearing, and taste of harmony, has been formed upon those sounds which every country abounds 90 SPECTATOR. [No. 29 with : in short, that music is of a relative nature ; and what is har- mony to one ear, may be dissonance to another. The same observations which I have made upon the recitative part of music, may be applied to all our songs and airs in general. Signor Baptist LuUy acted like a man of sense in this parti- cular. He found the French music extremely defective, and very often barbarous : however, knowing the genius of the people, the humour of their language, and the prejudiced ears he had to deal with, he did not pretend to extirpate the French music, and plant the Italian in its stead ; but only to cultivate and civilize it with innumerable graces and modulations which he borrowed from the Italian. By this means ^ the French music is now per- fect in its kind ; and when you say it is not so good as the Ital- ian, you only mean that it does not please you so well, for there is scarce a Frenchman who would not wonder to hear you give the Italian such a preference. The music of the French is indeed very properly adapted to their pronunciation and accent, as their whole opera wonderfully favours the genius of such a gay, airy people. The chorus in which that opera abounds, gives the par- terre frequent opportunities of joining in concert ^ with the stage. This inclination of the audience to sing along with the actors, so prevails with them, that I have sometimes known the perform- er on the stage do no more in a celebrated song, than the clerk of a parish church, who serves only to raise the psalm, and is af- terwards drowned in the music of the congregation. Every actor that comes on the stage is a beau. The queens and heroines are so painted, that they appear as ruddy and cherry-cheeked as milk- maids. The shepherds are all embroidered, and acquit themselves in a ball better than our English dancing-masters. I have seen a couple of rivers appear in red stockings ; and Alpheus, instead of having his head covered with sedge and bull-rushes, making ^ 0. J. These means. ^ 0. F. Consort. No. 29.1 SPECTATOR. 91 love in a fair full-bottomed perriwig, and a plume of feathers ; but with a voice so full of shakes and quavers, that I should have thought the murmurs of a country brook the much more agree- able music. I remember the last opera I saw in that merry nation, was the Rape of Proserpine ; where Pluto, to make the more tempt- ing figure, puts himself in a French equipage, and brings Asca- laphus along with him as his valet de chambre. This is what we call folly and impertinence ; but what the French look upon as gay and polite. I shall add no more to what I have here ofiered, than that music, architecture, and painting, as well as poetry and oratory, are to deduce their laws and rules from the general sense and taste of mankind, and not from the principles of those arts them- selves ; or, in other words, the taste is not to conform to the art, but the art to the taste. Music is not designed to please only chromatic ears, but all that are capable of distinguishing harsh from disagreeable notes. A man of an ordinary ear is a judge whether a passion is expressed in proper sounds, and whethei the melody of those sounds be more or less pleasing. C. Complete sets of this paper for the month of March, are sold by Mr. Greaves in St. James's-street ; Mr. Lillie, perfumer, the corner of Beaufort-buildings; Messrs, Sanger, Knapton, Round, and Mrs. Baldwin. V. Spect.'in fol. SPECTATOR [No. SI No, 31. THURSDAY, APRIL 5. Sit mihi fas audita loqui. ViRa. ^n. vi. 266. What I have heard permit me to relate. Last night, upon my going into a coffee-house not tar from the Haymarket Theatre, I diverted myself for above half an hour with overhearing the discourse of one, who, by the shabbiness of his dress, the extravagance of his conceptions, and the hurry of his speech, I discovered to be of that species who are generally distinguished by the title of projectors. This gentleman, for I found he was treated as such by his audience, was entertaining a whole table of listeners with the project of an opera, which he told us had not cost him above two or three mornings in the con- trivance, and which he was ready to put in execution, provided he might find his account in it. He said, that he had observed the great trouble and inconvenience which ladies were at, in travelling up and down to the several shows that are exhibited in different quarters of the town. The dancing monkies are in one place ; the puppet-show in another ; the opera in a third ; not to mention the lions, that are almost a whole day's journey from the politer part of the town. By this means people of figure are forced to lose half the winter after their coming to town, before they have seen all the strange sights about it. In order to remedy this great inconvenience, our projector drew out of his pocket the scheme of an opera, entitled, The Expedition of Alexander the Great ;^ in which he had disposed all the re- markable shows about town, among the scenes and decorations of his piece. The thought, he confessed, was not originally his own, but that he had taken the hint of it from several perform- ances which he had seen upon our stage ; in one of which there * V, Nichols's notes to No. 14 of Tatler, and Spec, 36, — G. N^o. 31.] SPECTATOR. 93 was a raree-show ; in another a ladder-dance ; and in others a posture-man, a moving picture, with many curiosities of the like nature. This Expedition of Alexander opens with his consulting the Oracle of Delphos, in which the dumb conjurer, who has been visited by so many persons of quality of late years, is to be introduced as telling him his fortune ; at the same time Clench of Barnet is represented in another corner of the temple, as ringing the bells of Delphos, for joy of his arrival. The tent of Darius is to be peopled by the ingenious Mrs. Salmon, where Alexander is to fall in love with a piece of wax-work, that rep- resents the beautiful Statira. When Alexander comes into that country, in which Quintus Curtius tells us the dogs were so ex- ceedingly fierce that they would not loose their hold, though they were cut to pieces limb by limb, and that they would hang upon their prey by their teeth, when they had nothing but a mouth left, there is to be a scene of Hockley in the Hole, in which is to be represented all the diversions of that place, the bull-bait- ing only excepted, which cannot possibly be exhibited in the theatre, by reason of the lowness of the roof. The several woods in Asia, which Alexander must be supposed to pass through, will give the audience a sight of monkies dancing upon the ropes, with the many other pleasantries of that ludicrous species. At the same time, if there chance to be any strange animals in town, whether birds or beasts, they may be either let loose among the woods, or driven across the stage by some of the country people of Asia. In the last great battle, Pinkethman is to personate King Porus upon an elephant, and is to be encountered by Powell, representing Alexander the Great, upon a dromedary, which, nevertheless, Mr. Powell is desired to call by the name of Bucephalus. Upon the close of this great decisive battle, when the two kings are thoroughly reconciled, 94 SPECTATOR. [No. 31. to show the mutual friendship and good correspondence that reigns between them, they both of them go together to a puppet- show, in which the ingenious Mr. Powell, junior, may have an opportunity of displaying his whole art of machinery, for the diversion of the two monarchs. Some at the table urged, that a puppet-show was not a suitable entertainment for Alexander the Great ; and that it might be introduced more properly, if we suppose the conqueror touched upon that part of India which is said to be inhabited by pigmies. But this objection was looked upon as frivolous, and the proposal immediately over-ruled. Our projector further added, that after the reconciliation of these two kings, they might invite one another to dinner, and either of them entertain his guest with the German artist, Mr. Pinkethman's heathen^ gods, or any of the like diversions, which shall then chance to be in vogue. This project was received with very great applause by the whole table. Upon which the undertaker told us, that he had not yet communicated to us above half his design ; for that Alexander being a Greek, it was his intention that the whole opera should be acted in that language, which was a tongue he was sure would wonderfully please the ladies, especially when it was a little raised and rounded by the Ionic dialect ; and could not but be acceptable to the whole audience, because there are fewer of them who understand Greek than Italian. The only difficulty that remained, was, how to get performers, unless we could per- suade some gentlemen of the universities to learn to siog, in order to qualify themselves for the stage : but this objection soon vanished, when the projector informed us, that the Greeks were ^ Lately arrived a rare and curious artist, wlio in the presence of all spectators, makes all sorts and fashions of Indian, China, and other curious figures, in various colours, as small as they please. Also all sorts of birds, fowls, imnges of men, &c. He bloweth all sorts of glass curiously, ve I 'Wi this subjeclf, Soe his introduction to No. 152, in the Tat lei-. — II No. 57.] SPECTATOR. 159 intimates, that men and women ought to busy themselves in their proper spheres, and on such matters only as are suitable to their respective sex. I am at this time acquainted with a young gentleman, who has passed a great part of his life in the nursery, and upon occasion, can make a caudle or a sack posset better than any man in England. He is likewise a wonderful critic in cambric and muslins, and will talk an hour together upon a sweet-meat. He entertains his mother every night with observations that he makes both in town and court : as what lady shows the nicest fancy in her dress ; what man of quality wears the fairest wig ; who has the finest linen, who the prettiest snuff-box, with many other the like curious remarks that may be made in good com- pany. On the other hand, I have very frequently the opportunity of seeing a rural Andromache, who came up to town last winter, and is one of the greatest fox-hunters in the country. She talks of hounds and horses, and makes nothing of leaping over a six-bar gate. If a man tells her a waggish story, she gives him a push with her hand in jest, and calls him an impudent dog ; and if her servant neglects his business, threatens to kick him out of the house. I have heard her, in her wrath, call a sub- stantial tradesman a lousy cur ; and remember one day, when she could not think of the name of the person, she described him, in a large company of men and ladies, by the fellow with the broad shoulders. If those speeches and actions, which in their own nature are indifferent, appear ridiculous when they proceed from the wrong sex, the faults and imperfections of one sex transplanted into ano- ther, appear black and monstrous. As for the men, I shall not in this paper any further concern myself about them ; but as I would fain contribute to make woman-kind, which is the most 160 SPECTATOR. [No. 57. beautiful part of the creation, entirely amiable, and wear out all those little spots and blemishes that are apt to rise among the charms which nature has poured out upon them, I shall dedicate this paper to their service. The spot which I would here endea- vour to clear them of, is that party-rage which of late years is very much crept into their conversation. This is, in its nature, a male vice, and made up of many angry and cruel passions that are al- together repugnant to the softness, the modesty, and those endear- ing qualities which are natural to the fair sex. Women were formed to temper mankind, and soothe them into tenderness and compassion ; not to set an edge upon their minds, and blow up in them those passions which are too apt to rise of their own ac- cord. When I have seen a pretty mouth uttering calumnies and invectives, what would I not have given to have stopt it? how have I been troubled to see some of the finest features in the world grow pale, and tremble with party-rage ? Camilla is one of the greatest beauties in the British nation, and yet values her- self more upon being the virago of one party, than being the toast of both. The dear creature, about a week ago, encountered tht fierce and beautiful Penthesilea across a tea-table ; but in the height of her anger, as her hand chanced to shake with the ear- nestness of the dispute, she scalded her fingers, and spilt a dish of tea upon her petticoat. Had not this accident broke off the debate, no body knows where it would have ended. There is one consideration which, I would earnestly recom- mend to all my female readers, and which, I hope, will have some weight with them. In short, it is this, that there is nothing so bad for the face as party-zeal. It gives an ill-natured cast to the eye, and a disagreeable sourness to the look ; besides, that it makes the lines too strong, and flushes them worse than brandy. I have seen a woman's face break out in heats, as she has been talking against a great lord, whom she had never seen in her life No. 57.] SPECTATOR. 161 and indeed never knew a party-woman that kept her beauty for a twelvemonth. I would therefore advise all my female readers, as they value their complexions, to let alone all disputes of this nature ; though, at the same time I would give free liberty to all superannuated motherly partizans to be as violent as they please, since there will be no danger either of their spoiling their faces, or of their gaining converts. For my own part I think a man makes an odious and despi- cable figure, that is violent in a party; but a woman is too sincere to migitate the fury of her principles with temper and discretion^ and to act with that caution and reservedness which are requi- site in our sex. When this unnatural zeal gets into them, it throws them into ten thousand heats and extravagances ; their generous souls set no bounds to their love, or to their hatred ; and whether a whig or tory, a lap-dog or a gallant, an opera or a puppet-show, be the object of it, the passion, while it reigns, en- grosses the whole woman. I remember when Dr. Titus Oates ^ was in all his glory, I accompanied my friend Will. Honeycomb in a visit to a lady of his acquaintance : we were no sooner sat down, but upon casting my eyes about the room, I found in almost every corner of it a print that represented the doctor in all magnitudes and dimen- sions. A little after, as the lady was discoursing my friend, and held her snuff-box in her hand, ^'ho should I see in the lid of it but the doctor. It was not long after this, when*she had occasion for her handkerchief, which upon the first opening discovered among the plaits of it the figure of the doctor. Upon this my friend Will, who loves raillery, told her, that if he was in Mr. True-love's place (for that was the name of her husband) he 1 Though the name of Dr. T. Oates is made use of here, Dr. Sacheverell is the person alluded to. — C. 162 SPECTATOR [Xo. 58 should be made as uneasy by a handkerchief as ever Othello was. * I am afraid, (said she,) Mr. Honeycomb, you are a tory : tell me truly, are you a friend to the doctor or not ? ' Will, instead of making her a reply, smiled in her face (for indeed she was very pretty) and told her, that one of her patches was dropping off. She immediately adjusted it, and looking a little seriously, ' Well, (says she) 111 be hanged if you and your silent friend there are not against the doctor in your hearts ; I suspected as much by his saying nothing.' Upon this she took her fan into her hand, and upon the opening of it again displayed to us the figure of the doctor, who was placed with great gravity among the sticks of it. In a word, I found that the doctor had taken possession of her thoughts, her discourse, and most of her furniture; but finding myself pressed too close by her question, I winked upon my friend to take his leave, which he did accordingly. C. No. 58. MONDAY, MAY 7. Ut pictura poesis ei it IIOK. Ars. Poet v. 361. Poems like pictures are. Nothing is so much admired, and so little understood, as wit. No author that I know of has written professedly upon it; as for those who make any mention of it, they only treat on the subject as it has accidentally fallen in their way, and that too in little short reflections, or in general declamatory flourishes, without entering into the bottom of the matter. I hope, therefore, I shall perform an acceptable work to my countrymen, if I treat at large No. 58.] SPECTATOR. 163 upon this subject;'' which I shall endeavour to do in a manner suitable to it, that I may not incur the censure which a famous critic bestows upon one who had written a treatise upon the sub- lime in a low groveling style. I intend to lay aside a whole week for this undertaking, that the scheme of my thoughts may not be broken and interrupted ; and I dare promise myself, if my readers will give me a week's attention, that this great city will be very much changed for the better by next Saturday night. I shall endeavour to make what I say intelligible to ordinary capa- cities ; but if my readers meet with any paper that in some parts of it may be a little out of their reach, I would not have them discouraged, for they may assure tliemselves the next shall be much clearer. As the great and only end of these speculations, is to banish vice and ignorance out of the territories of Great Britain, I shall endeavour as much as possible to establish among us a taste of polite writing. It is with this view that I have endeavoured to set my readers right in several points relating to operas and tra- gedies ; and shall from time to time impart my notions of comedy, as I think they may tend to its refinement and perfection. I find by my bookseller that these papers of criticism, with that upon humour, have met with a more kind reception than, indeed, I 30uld have hoped for from such subjects ; for which reason I " What the author calls " treating at large upon this subject,''' is only giv- ing the history of false wit, in the four first of these papers; a general idea of the true, in the fifth, and a recapitulation of the whole, by way of vision, in the sixth. An accurate treatise on this nice subject, is among the desi- derata of literature. However, this essay upon it, so far as it goes, is elegant and useful ; and such, in point of composition, as might be expect- ed from Mr. Addison, when he took time and pains to methodize and cor. rect what he wrote (which Mi-. Tickell tells us was the case with lliese papers) and did not apply himself in haste to print an occasional entertain- ment for the day. — H. 164 SPECTATOR. [Na 58. shall enter upon my present undertaking with greater cheerful- ness. In this^ and one or two following papers, I shall trace out the history of false wit, and distinguish the several kinds of it as they have prevailed in different ages of the world. This I think the more necessary at present, because I observed there were attempts on foot last winter to revive some of those antiquated modes of wit that have been long exploded out of the commonwealth of letters. There were several satires and panegyrics handed about in acrostic, by which means some of the most arrant undisputed blockheads about the town began to entertain ambitious thoughts, and to set up for polite authors. I shall, therefore, describe at length those many arts of false wit, in which a writer does not shew himself a man of a beautiful genius, but of great industry. The first species of false wit which I have mel with, is very venerable for its antiquity, and has produced several pieces which have lived very near as long as the Iliad itself : I mean those short poems printed among the minor Greek poets, which resem- ble the figure of an egg, a pair of wings, an ax, a shepherd's pipe, and an altar. As for the first, it is a little oval poem, and may not improp- erly be called a scholar's egg. I would endeavour to hatch it, or, in more intelligible language, to translate it into English, did not I find the interpretation of it very difiicult ; for the author seems to have been more intent upon the figure of his poem, than upon the sense of it. The pair of wings consists of twelve verses, or rather feathers, every verse decreasing gradually in its measure, accordmg to its situation in the wing. The subject of it (as in the rest of the poems which follow) bears some remote affinity with the figure, for it describes a God of Love, who is alwa}' s painted with wings. The ax, methinks, would have been a good figure for a lan> No. 58.] SPECTATOR. 165 poon, had the edge of it consisted of the most satirical parts of the work ; but as it is in the original, I take it to have been 'nothing else but the poesy of an ax which was consecrated to Minerva, and was thought to have been the same that Epeus made use of in the building of the Trojan horse ; which is a hint I shall leave to the consideration of the critics. I am apt to think that the poesy was written originally upon the ax, like those which our modern cutlers inscribe upon their knives ; and that, therefore, the poesy still remains in its ancient shape, though the ax itself is lost. The shepherd's pipe may be said to be full of music, for it is composed of nine different kinds of verses, which by their several lengths resemble the nine stops of the old musical instrument, that is likewise the subject of the poem. ^ The altar is inscribed with the epitaph of Troilus, the son of Hecuba ; which, by the way, makes me believe that these false pieces of wit are much more ancient than the authors to whom they arc generally ascribed ; at least I will never be persuaded, that so fine a writer as Theocritus could have been the author of any such simple works. It was impossible for a man to succeed in these performances who was not a kind of painter, or at least a designer : he was first of all to draw the outline of the subject which he intended to write upon, and afterwards conform the description to the figure of his subject. The poetry was to contract or dilate itself ac- cording to the mould in which it was cast. In a word, the verses were to be cramped or extended to the dimensions of the frame that was prepared for them ; and to undergo the fate of those persons whom the tyrant Procrustes used to lodge in his iron "^ sd : if they were too short, he stretched them on a rack ; and if r- iey were too long, chopped off a part of their legs, till they fitted I couch which he had prepared for them. 166 SPECTATOR Mr. Drjden hints at this obsolete kind of wit in one of the • following verses in his Mac Flecno ; which an English reader cannot understand, who does not know that there are those little poems above-mentioned in the shape of wings and altars. Choose for thy command Some peaceful province in Acrostic land; There may'st thou wings display, and altars raise, And torture one poor word a thousand ways. This fashion of false wit was revived by several poets of the last age, and in particular may be met with among Mr. Herbert's Poems ; and, if I am not mistaken, in the translation of Du Bar- tas. I do not remember any other kind of work among the mod- erns which more resembles the performances I have mentioned, than that famous picture of King Charles the First, which has the whole book of Psalms written in the lines of the face and the hair of the head. When I was last at Oxford I perused one of the whiskers ; and was reading the other, but could not go so far in it as I would have done, by reason of the impatience of my friends and fellow-travellers, who all of them pressed to see such a piece of curiosity. I have since heard, that there is now an eminent writing-master in town, who has transcribed all the Old Testament in a full-bottomed perriwig ; and if the fashion should introduce the thick kind of wigs which were in vogue some few years ago, he promises to add two or three supernumerary locks that shall con- tain all the Apocrypha. He designed this wig originally for King William, having disposed of the two books of Kings in the two forks of the fore top ; but that glorious monarch dying before the wig was finished, there is a space left in it for the face of any one that has a mind to purchase it. But to return to our ancient poems in picture, I would hum- bly propose, for the benefit of our modern smatterers in poetr}', that they would imitate their brethren among the ancients in those No. 59.] SPECTATOR. 167 ingenious devices. I have communicated this thought to a joung poetical lover of my acquaintance, who intends to present his mistress with a copy of verses made in the shape of her fan ; and, if he tells me true, has already finished the three first sticks of it. He has likewise promised me to get the measure of his mis- tress's marriage finger, with a design to make a poesy in the fash- ion of a ring which shall exactly fit it. It is so very easy to en- large upon a good hint, that I do not question but my ingenious readers will apply what I have said to many other particulars ; and that we shall see the t-own filled in a very little time with t>oetical tippets, handkerchiefs, snuff-boxes, and the like female ornaments. I shall therefore conclude with a word of advice to those admirable English authors who call themselves Pindaric writers, that they would apply themselves to this kind of wit without loss of time, as being provided better than any other poets with verses of all sizes and dimensions. C. No. 59. TUESDAY, MAY 8. Operose nihil agimt. Sen. Busy about nothing. There is nothing more certain than that every man would be a wit if he could, and, notwithstanding pedants of pretended depth and solidity are apt to decry the writings of a polite au- thor, as flash and* froth, they all of them shew upon occasion that they would spare no pains to arrive at the character of those whom tliey seem to despise. For this reason we often find theui endeavouring at works of fancy, which cost them infinite pangs in the production. The truth of it is, a man had better be a gal- 168 SPECTATOR. [No. 59 iey-slave than a wit, were one to gain that title by those elabo- rate trifles which have been the inventions of such authors as were often masters of great learning, but no genius. In my last paper I mentioned some of these false wits among the ancients, and in this shall give the reader two or three other species of them that flourished in the same early ages of the world. The first I shall produce are the Lipogrammatists, or letter-droppers of antiquity, that would take an exception, with- out any reason, against some particular letter in the alphabet, so as not to admit it once into a whole poem. One Tryphiodorus was a great master in this kind of writing. He composed an Odyssey, or epic poem, on the adventures of Ulysses, consisting of four-and-twent}^ books, having entirely banished the letter A from his first book, which was called Alpha (as lucus a non lucendo) because there was not an Alpha in it. His second hook was inscribed Beta, for the same reason. In short, the poet ex- cluded the whole four-and-twenty letters in their turns, and showed them, one after another, that he could do his business without them. It must have been very pleasant to have seen this poet avoid- ing the reprobate letter, as much as another would a false quan- tity, and making his escape from it through the several Greek dialects, when he was pressed with it in any particular syllable. For the most apt and elegant word in the whole language was re- jected, like a diamond with a flaw in it, if it appeared blemished with a wrong letter. I shall only observe upon this head, that if the work I have here mentioned had been now extant, the Odyssey of Tryphiodorus, in all probability, would have been oftener quoted by our learned pedants, than the Odyssey of Homer. What a perpetual fund would it have been of obsolete words and phrases, unusual barbarisms and rusticities, absurd spellings and complicated dialects ! I make no question but it No. 59.] SPECTAIOR. 169 would have been looked upon as one of the most valuable treasu- ries of the Greek tongue. I find, likewise, among the ancients that ingenious kind of conceit, which the moderns distinguish by the name of a Eebus, that does not sink a letter, but a whole word, by substituting a picture in its place. When Caesar was one of the masters of the Roman mint, he placed the figure of an elephant upon the reverse of the public money; the word Cassar signifying an, elephant in the Punic language. This was artificially contrived by Cassar, because it was not lawful for a private man to stamp his own figure upon the coin of the commonwealth. Cicero, who was so called from the founder of his family, that was marked on the nose with a little wen like a vetch ^ (which is cicer in Latin) in- stead of Marcus TuUius Cicero, ordered the words Marcus Tul- lius, with the figure of a vetch at the end of them to be inscribed on a public monument. This was done probably to shew that he was neither ashamed of his name or family, notwithstanding the envy of his competitors had often reproached him with both. In the same manner we read of a famous building that was marked in several parts of it with the figures of a frog and a lizard : those words in Greek having been the names of the architects, who by the laws of their country were never permitted to inscribe their own names upon their works. For the same reason it is thought, that the forelock of the horse in the antique-equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, represents at a distance the shape of an owl,^ to intimate the country of the statuary, who, in all proba- bility, was an Athenian. This kind of wit was very much in 1 Addison follows Plutarch in his etymology of Cicer, which Pliny, with far more probability, attributes, like the names of the Fabii, Lentuli, ^omen than in men. The passion for praise, which is so very vehement in the fair sex, produces excellent eifects in women of sense, who desire to be admired for that only which deserves admiration : and I think we may observe, without a compliment to them, that many of them do not only live in a more uniform course of virtue, but with an infinitely greater regard to their honour, than what we find in the generality of our own sex. How many instances have we of chastity, fidelity, devotion ! How many ladies distinguish themselves by the education of their children, care of their families, and love of their husbands, which are the great qualities and achievements of womankind 1 as the making of war, the carrying on of traffic, the administration of justice, are those by which men grow famous, and get themselves a name. But as this passion for admiration, when it works according to reason, improves the beautiful part of our species in every thing that is laudable ; so nothing is more destructive to them when it is governed by vanity and folly. What I have, there- fore, here to say, only regards the vain part of the sex, whom for certain reasons, which the reader will hereafter see at large, I shall distinguish by the name of Idols. An Idol is wholly taken up in the adorning of her person. You see in every pos- ture of her body, air of her face, and motion of her head, that it is her business and employment to gain adorers. For this rea- son your Idols appear in all public places and assemblies, in order to seduce men to their worship. The playhouse is very frequently filled with Idols ; several of them are carried in pro- 216 SPECTATOR. [No. 73. cession every evening about the ring, and several of them set up their worship even in churches. They are to be accosted in the language proper to the Deity. Life and death are in their power : joys of heaven and pains of hell are at their disposal : paradise is in their arms, and eternity in every moment that you are pre- sent with them. Raptures, transports, and ecstacies, are the rewards which they confer : sighs and tears, prayers and broken hearts, are the offerings which are paid to them. Their smiles make men happy ; their frowns drive them to despair. I shall only add under this head, that Ovid's book of The Art of Love is a kind of heathen ritual, which contains all the forms of wor- ship which are made use of to an Idol. It would be as difficult a task to reckon up these different kinds of Idols, as Milton's was to number those that were known in Canaan, and the lands adjoining. Most of them are worship- ped, like Moloch, in fires and flames. Some of them, like Baal, love to see their votaries cut and slashed, and shedding their blood for them. Some of them, like the Idol in the Apocrypha, must have treats and collations prepared for them every night. It has, indeed, been known, that some of them have been used by their incensed worshippers like the Chinese Idols, who are whipped and scourged when they refuse to comply with the prayers that are offered to them. I must here observe, that those idolaters who devote them- selves to the Idols I am here speaking of, differ very much from all other kinds of Idolaters. For as others fall out because they worship different Idols, these Idolaters quarrel because they worship the same. The intention, therefore, of the Idol, is quite contrary to the wishes of the Idolater ; as the one desires to confine the Idol to himself, the whole business and ambition of the other is to mul- tiply adorers. This humour of an Idol is prettily described in a No. 73.] SPECTATOR. 217 tale of Chaucer : he represents one of them sitting at a table with three of her votaries about her, who are all of them court- ing her favour, and paying their adorations : she smiled upon one, drank to another, and trod upon the other's foot which was under the table. Now which of these three, says the old bard, do you think was the favourite ? ' In troth, (says he,) not one of all the three.' The behaviour of this old Idol in Chaucer, puts me in mind of the beautiful Clarinda, one of the greatest Idols among the moderns. She is worshipped once a week by candle-light in the midst of a large congregation, generally called an assembly. Some of the gayest youths in the nation endeavour to plant themselves in her eye, while she sits in form with multitudes of tapers burning about her. To encourage the zeal of her idolaters, she bestows a mark of her favour upon every one of them before they go out of her presence. She asks a question of one, tells a story to another, glances an ogle upon a third, takes a pinch of snufF from the fourth, lets her fan drop by accident to give the fifth an occasion of taking it up. In short, every one goes away satisfied with his success, and encouraged to renew his devotions at the same canonical hour that day seven-night. An Idol may be undeified by many accidental causes. Mar- riage, in particular, is a kind of counter-apotheosis, or a deifica- tion inverted. When a man becomes familiar with his goddess, she quickly sinks into a woman. Old age is likewise a great decayer of your Idol : the truth of it is, there is not a more unhappy being than a superannuated Idol, especially when she has contracted such airs and behaviour as are only graceful when her worshippers are about her. Considering, therefore, that in these and many other cases the woman generally outlives the Idol, I must return to the moral of this paper, and desire my fair readers to give a proper direction VOL. v.^ — 10 218 SPECTATOR. [No, 14. to their passion for being admired : in order to which, they must endeavour to make themselves the objects of a reasonable and lasting admiration. This is not to be hoped for from beauty, or dress, or fashion, but from those inward ornaments which are not to be defaced by time or sickness, and which appear most amiable to those who are most acquainted with them. C. No. 74. FRIDAY, MAY 25. Pendent opera interrupta ViKG. ^n. iv. 88. The works unfinished and neglected lie. In my last Monday's paper I gave some general instances of those beautiful strokes which please the reader in the old song of Chevy-Chase ; I shall here, according to my promise, be more particular, and shew that the sentiments in that ballad are extremely natural and poetical, and full of the majestic simplicity which we admire in the greatest of the ancient poets : for which reason I shall quote several passages of it, in which the thought is altogether the same with what we meet in several passages of the JEneid ; not that I would infer from thence, that the poet (whoever he was) proposed to himself any imitation of those pas- sages, but that he was directed to them in general by the same kind of poetical genius, and by the same copyings after nature. Had this old song been filled with epigrammatical turns and points of wit, it might perhaps have pleased the wrong taste of some readers ; but it would never have become the delight of the common people, nor have warmed the heart of Sir Philip Sidney like the sound of a trumpet; it is only nature that can have this effect, and please those tastes which are the most [No. 74. SPECTATOR. 219 unprejudiced, or the most refined. I must, however, beg leave to dissent from so great an authority as that of Sir Philip Sidney, in the judgment which he has passed as to the rude style and evil apparel of this antiquated song; for there are several parts in it, where not only the thought, but the language, is majestic, and the numbers sonorous ;^ at least, the apparel is much more gorgeous than many of the poets made use of in Queen Elizabeth's time, as the reader will see in several of the following quotations. "What can be greater than either the thought or the expres- sion in that stanza ? To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Piercy took his way : The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day ! This way of considering the misfortunes which this battle would bring upon posterity, not only on those who were born imme- diately after the battle, and lost their fathers in it, but on those also who perished in future battles, which took their rise from this quarrel of the two Earls, is wonderfully beautiful, and con- formable to the way of thinking among the ancient poets. Audiet pugnas vitio parenturn Rara juventus. HoR. Od. 2. 1, 1. V. 23. Posterity, thinn'd by their fathers' crimes, Shall read with grief the story of their times. What can be more sounding and poetical, or resemble more the majestic simplicity of the ancients, than the following stanzas ? 1 V. D. BlackwelFs Enquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer. Second edition, 8vo., 1736, sect. v. pp. 59, 60. — C. ^ Found only in the modern poem, except the third line. — Gr. 220 SPECTATOR. [No. 74, The stout Earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer's days to take. AVith fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew full well, in time of need, To aim their shafts aright. The hounds ran swiftly thro' the woods The nimble deer to take, And with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make,^ 'Yocat ingenti clamore Cithaeron Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum: Et vox assensu nemorum ingemiuata remugit. Georg. 3, V. 43. Cithaeron loudly calls me to my way; Thy hounds, Ta^^getus, open and pursue the prey: High Epidaurus urges on my speed, Fam'd for his hills, and for his horses' breed; From hills and dales the cheerful cries rebound; For echo hunts along, and propagates the sound. Dryden. Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armour bright ; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears. All marching in our sight ; All men of pleasant Tividale, Fast by the river Tweed,