in Health, would consider well the Nature of the Part they are engaged
in, and what Figure it will make in the Minds of those they leave behind
them: Whether it was worth coming into the World for; whether it be
suitable to a reasonable Being; in short, whether it appears Graceful in
this Life, or will turn to an Advantage in the next. Let the Sycophant,
or Buffoon, the Satyrist, or the Good Companion, consider with himself,
when his Body shall be laid in the Grave, and his Soul pass into another
State of Existence, how much it will redound to his Praise to have it
said of him, that no Man in England eat better, that he had an admirable
Talent at turning his Friends into Ridicule, that no Body out-did him at
an Ill-natured Jest, or that he never went to Bed before he had
dispatched his third Bottle. These are, however, very common Funeral
Orations, and Elogiums on deceased Persons who have acted among Mankind
with some Figure and Reputation.

But if we look into the Bulk of our Species, they are such as are not
likely to be remembred a Moment after their Disappearance. They leave
behind them no Traces of their Existence, but are forgotten as tho they
had never been. They are neither wanted by the Poor, regretted by the
Rich, [n]or celebrated by the Learned. They are neither missed in the
Commonwealth, nor lamented by private Persons. Their Actions are of no
Significancy to Mankind, and might have been performed by Creatures of
much less Dignity, than those who are distinguished by the Faculty of
Reason. An eminent French Author speaks somewhere to the following
Purpose: I have often seen from my Chamber-window two noble Creatures,
both of them of an erect Countenance and endowed with Reason. These two
intellectual Beings are employed from Morning to Night, in rubbing two
smooth Stones one upon another; that is, as the Vulgar phrase it, in
polishing Marble.

My Friend, Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, as we were sitting in the Club last
Night, gave us an Account of a sober Citizen, who died a few Days since.
This honest Man being of greater Consequence in his own Thoughts, than
in the Eye of the World, had for some Years past kept a Journal of his
Life. Sir ANDREW shewed us one Week of it. [Since [1]] the Occurrences
set down in it mark out such a Road of Action as that I have been
speaking of, I shall present my Reader with a faithful Copy of it; after
having first inform'd him, that the Deceased Person had in his Youth
been bred to Trade, but finding himself not so well turned for Business,
he had for several Years last past lived altogether upon a moderate
Annuity.

  MONDAY, Eight-a-Clock. I put on my Cloaths and walked into the
  Parlour.

  Nine a-Clock, ditto. Tied my Knee-strings, and washed my Hands.

  Hours Ten, Eleven and Twelve. Smoaked three Pipes of Virginia. Read
  the Supplement and Daily Courant. Things go ill in the North. Mr.
  Nisby's Opinion thereupon.

  One a-Clock in the Afternoon. Chid Ralph for mislaying my Tobacco-Box.

  Two a-Clock. Sate down to Dinner. Mem. Too many Plumbs, and no Sewet.

  From Three to Four. Took my Afternoons Nap.

  From Four to Six. Walked into the Fields. Wind, S. S. E.

  From Six to Ten. At the Club. Mr. Nisby's Opinion about the Peace.

  Ten a-Clock. Went to Bed, slept sound.

  TUESDAY, BEING HOLIDAY, Eight a-Clock. Rose as usual.

  Nine a-Clock. Washed Hands and Face, shaved, put on my double-soaled
  Shoes.

  Ten, Eleven, Twelve. Took a Walk to Islington.

  One. Took a Pot of Mother Cobs Mild.

  Between Two and Three. Return'd, dined on a Knuckle of Veal and Bacon.
  Mem. Sprouts wanting.

  Three. Nap as usual.

  From Four to Six. Coffee-house. Read the News. A Dish of Twist. Grand
  Vizier strangled.

  From Six to Ten. At the Club. Mr. Nisby's Account of the Great Turk.

  Ten. Dream of the Grand Vizier. Broken Sleep.

  WEDNESDAY, Eight a-Clock. Tongue of my Shooe-Buckle broke. Hands but
  not Face.

  Nine. Paid off the Butchers Bill. Mem. To be allowed for the last Leg
  of Mutton.

  Ten, Eleven. At the Coffee-house. More Work in the North. Stranger in
  a black Wigg asked me how Stocks went.

  From Twelve to One. Walked in the Fields. Wind to the South.

  From One to Two. Smoaked a Pipe and an half.

  Two. Dined as usual. Stomach good.

  Three. Nap broke by the falling of a Pewter Dish. Mem. Cook-maid in
  Love, and grown careless.

  From Four to Six. At the Coffee-house. Advice from Smyrna, that the
  Grand Vizier was first of all strangled, and afterwards beheaded.

  Six a-Clock in the Evening. Was half an Hour in the Club before any
  Body else came. Mr. Nisby of Opinion that the Grand Vizier was not
  strangled the Sixth Instant.

  Ten at Night. Went to Bed. Slept without waking till Nine next
  Morning.

  THURSDAY, Nine a-Clock. Staid within till Two a-Clock for Sir Timothy;
  who did not bring me my Annuity according to his Promise.

  Two in the Afternoon. Sate down to Dinner. Loss of Appetite. Small
  Beer sour. Beef over-corned.

  Three. Could not take my Nap.

  Four and Five. Gave Ralph a box on the Ear. Turned off my Cookmaid.
  Sent a Message to Sir Timothy. Mem. I did not go to the Club to-night.
  Went to Bed at Nine a-Clock.

  FRIDAY, Passed the Morning in Meditation upon Sir Timothy, who was
  with me a Quarter before Twelve.

  Twelve a-Clock. Bought a new Head to my Cane, and a Tongue to my
  Buckle. Drank a Glass of Purl to recover Appetite.

  Two and Three. Dined, and Slept well.

  From Four to Six. Went to the Coffee-house. Met Mr. Nisby there.
  Smoaked several Pipes. Mr. Nisby of opinion that laced Coffee is bad
  for the Head.

  Six a-Clock. At the Club as Steward. Sate late.

  Twelve a-Clock. Went to Bed, dreamt that I drank Small Beer with the
  Grand Vizier.

  SATURDAY. Waked at Eleven, walked in the Fields. Wind N. E.

  Twelve. Caught in a Shower.

  One in the Afternoon. Returned home, and dryed my self.

  Two. Mr. Nisby dined with me. First Course Marrow-bones, Second
  Ox-Cheek, with a Bottle of Brooks and Hellier.

  Three a-Clock. Overslept my self.

  Six. Went to the Club. Like to have fal'n into a Gutter. Grand Vizier
  certainly Dead. etc.

I question not but the Reader will be surprized to find the
above-mentioned Journalist taking so much care of a Life that was filled
with such inconsiderable Actions, and received so very small
Improvements; and yet, if we look into the Behaviour of many whom we
daily converse with, we shall find that most of their Hours are taken up
in those three Important Articles of Eating, Drinking and Sleeping. I do
not suppose that a Man loses his Time, who is not engaged in publick
Affairs, or in an Illustrious Course of Action. On the Contrary, I
believe our Hours may very often be more profitably laid out in such
Transactions as make no Figure in the World, than in such as are apt to
draw upon them the Attention of Mankind. One may become wiser and better
by several Methods of Employing ones Self in Secrecy and Silence, and
do what is laudable without Noise, or Ostentation. I would, however,
recommend to every one of my Readers, the keeping a Journal of their
Lives for one Week, and setting down punctually their whole Series of
Employments during that Space of Time. This Kind of Self-Examination
would give them a true State of themselves, and incline them to consider
seriously what they are about. One Day would rectifie the Omissions of
another, and make a Man weigh all those indifferent Actions, which,
though they are easily forgotten, must certainly be accounted for.

L.

[Footnote 1: [As]]

No. 318.              Wednesday, March 5, 1712.                 Steele.

  [--non omnia possumus omnes.

  Virg. [1]]

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  A certain Vice which you have lately attacked, has not yet been
  considered by you as growing so deep in the Heart of Man, that the
  Affectation outlives the Practice of it. You must have observed that
  Men who have been bred in Arms preserve to the most extreme and feeble
  old Age a certain Daring in their Aspect: In like manner, they who
  have pass'd their Time in Gallantry and Adventure, keep up, as well as
  they can, the Appearance of it, and carry a petulant Inclination to
  their last Moments. Let this serve for a Preface to a Relation I am
  going to give you of an old Beau in Town, that has not only been
  amorous, and a Follower of Women in general, but also, in Spite of the
  Admonition of grey Hairs, been from his sixty-third Year to his
  present seventieth, in an actual Pursuit of a young Lady, the Wife of
  his Friend, and a Man of Merit. The gay old Escalus has Wit, good
  Health, and is perfectly well bred; but from the Fashion and Manners
  of the Court when he was in his Bloom, has such a natural Tendency to
  amorous Adventure, that he thought it would be an endless Reproach to
  him to make no use of a Familiarity he was allowed at a Gentleman's
  House, whose good Humour and Confidence exposed his Wife to the
  Addresses of any who should take it in their Head to do him the good
  Office. It is not impossible that Escalus might also resent that the
  Husband was particularly negligent of him; and tho he gave many
  Intimations of a Passion towards the Wife, the Husband either did not
  see them, or put him to the Contempt of over-looking them. In the mean
  time Isabella, for so we shall call our Heroine, saw his Passion, and
  rejoiced in it as a Foundation for much Diversion, and an Opportunity
  of indulging her self in the dear Delight of being admired, addressed
  to, and flattered, with no ill Consequence to her Reputation. This
  Lady is of a free and disengaged Behaviour, ever in good Humour, such
  as is the Image of Innocence with those who are innocent, and an
  Encouragement to Vice with those who are abandoned. From this Kind of
  Carriage, and an apparent Approbation of his Gallantry, Escalus had
  frequent Opportunities of laying amorous Epistles in her Way, of
  fixing his Eyes attentively upon her Action, of performing a thousand
  little Offices which are neglected by the Unconcerned, but are so many
  Approaches towards Happiness with the Enamoured. It was now, as is
  above hinted, almost the End of the seventh Year of his Passion, when
  Escalus from general Terms, and the ambiguous Respect which criminal
  Lovers retain in their Addresses, began to bewail that his Passion
  grew too violent for him to answer any longer for his Behaviour
  towards her; and that he hoped she would have Consideration for his
  long and patient Respect, to excuse the Motions of a Heart now no
  longer under the Direction of the unhappy Owner of it. Such for some
  Months had been the Language of Escalus both in his Talk and his
  Letters to Isabella; who returned all the Profusion of kind Things
  which had been the Collection of fifty Years with I must not hear you;
  you will make me forget that you are a Gentleman, I would not
  willingly lose you as a Friend; and the like Expressions, which the
  Skilful interpret to their own Advantage, as well knowing that a
  feeble Denial is a modest Assent. I should have told you, that
  Isabella, during the whole Progress of this Amour, communicated it to
  her Husband; and that an Account of Escalus's Love was their usual
  Entertainment after half a Days Absence: Isabella therefore, upon her
  Lovers late more open Assaults, with a Smile told her Husband she
  could hold out no longer, but that his Fate was now come to a Crisis.
  After she had explained her self a little farther, with her Husbands
  Approbation she proceeded in the following Manner. The next Time that
  Escalus was alone with her, and repeated his Importunity, the crafty
  Isabella looked on her Fan with an Air of great Attention, as
  considering of what Importance such a Secret was to her; and upon the
  Repetition of a warm Expression, she looked at him with an Eye of
  Fondness, and told him he was past that Time of Life which could make
  her fear he would boast of a Lady's Favour; then turned away her Head
  with a very well-acted Confusion, which favoured the Escape of the
  aged Escalus. This Adventure was Matter of great Pleasantry to
  Isabella and her Spouse; and they had enjoyed it two Days before
  Escalus could recollect himself enough to form the following Letter.

    MADAM,

    "What happened the other Day, gives me a lively Image of the
    Inconsistency of human Passions and Inclinations. We pursue what we
    are denied, and place our Affections on what is absent, tho we
    neglected it when present. As long as you refused my Love, your
    Refusal did so strongly excite my Passion, that I had not once the
    Leisure to think of recalling my Reason to aid me against the Design
    upon your Virtue. But when that Virtue began to comply in my Favour,
    my Reason made an Effort over my Love, and let me see the Baseness
    of my Behaviour in attempting a Woman of Honour. I own to you, it
    was not without the most violent Struggle that I gained this Victory
    over my self; nay, I will confess my Shame, and acknowledge I could
    not have prevailed but by Flight. However, Madam, I beg that you
    will believe a Moments Weakness has not destroyed the Esteem I had
    for you, which was confirmed by so many Years of Obstinate Virtue.
    You have Reason to rejoice that this did not happen within the
    Observation of one of the young Fellows, who would have exposed your
    Weakness, and gloried in his own Brutish Inclinations.
    I am, Madam,
    Your most devoted Humble Servant."

  Isabella, with the Help of her Husband, returned the following Answer.

    SIR,

    "I cannot but account my self a very happy Woman, in having a Man
    for a Lover that can write so well, and give so good a Turn to a
    Disappointment. Another Excellence you have above all other
    Pretenders I ever heard of; on Occasions where the most reasonable
    Men lose all their Reason, you have yours most powerful. We are each
    of us to thank our Genius, that the Passion of one abated in
    Proportion as that of the other grew violent. Does it not yet come
    into your Head, to imagine that I knew my Compliance was the
    greatest Cruelty I could be guilty of towards you? In Return for
    your long and faithful Passion, I must let you know that you are old
    enough to become a little more Gravity; but if you will leave me and
    coquet it any where else, may your Mistress yield.

    ISABELLA."

T.

[Footnote 1:

  Rideat et pulset Lasciva decentius Ætas.

Hor.]

No. 319.             Thursday, March 6, 1712.                  Budgell.

  Quo teneam vultus mutantem Protea nodo?

  Hor.

I have endeavoured, in the Course of my Papers, to do Justice to the
Age, and have taken care as much as possible to keep my self a Neuter
between both Sexes. I have neither spared the Ladies out of
Complaisance, nor the Men out of Partiality; but notwithstanding the
great Integrity with which I have acted in this Particular, I find my
self taxed with an Inclination to favour my own half of the Species.
Whether it be that the Women afford a more fruitful Field for
Speculation, or whether they run more in my Head than the Men, I cannot
tell, but I shall set down the Charge as it is laid against me in the
following Letter.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  I always make one among a Company of young Females, who peruse your
  Speculations every Morning. I am at present Commissioned, by our whole
  Assembly, to let you know, that we fear you are a little enclined to
  be partial towards your own Sex. We must however acknowledge, with all
  due Gratitude, that in some Cases you have given us our Revenge on the
  Men, and done us Justice. We could not easily have forgiven you
  several Strokes in the Dissection of the Coquets Heart, if you had
  not, much about the same time, made a Sacrifice to us of a Beaus
  Scull.

  You may, however, Sir, please to remember, that long since you
  attacked our Hoods and Commodes in such manner, as, to use your own
  Expression, made very many of us ashamed to shew our Heads. We must,
  therefore, beg leave to represent to you, that we are in Hopes, if you
  would please to make a due Enquiry, the Men in all Ages would be found
  to have been little less whimsical in adorning that Part, than our
  selves. The different Forms of their Wiggs, together with the various
  Cocks of their Hats, all flatter us in this Opinion.

  I had an humble Servant last Summer, who the first time he declared
  himself, was in a Full-Bottom'd Wigg; but the Day after, to my no
  small Surprize, he accosted me in a thin Natural one. I received him,
  at this our second Interview, as a perfect Stranger, but was extreamly
  confounded, when his Speech discovered who he was. I resolved,
  therefore, to fix his Face in my Memory for the future; but as I was
  walking in the Park the same Evening, he appeared to me in one of
  those Wiggs that I think you call a Night-cap, which had altered him
  more effectually than before. He afterwards played a Couple of Black
  Riding Wiggs upon me, with the same Success; and, in short, assumed a
  new Face almost every Day in the first Month of his Courtship.

  I observed afterwards, that the Variety of Cocks into which he
  moulded his Hat, had not a little contributed to his Impositions upon
  me.

  Yet, as if all these ways were not sufficient to distinguish their
  Heads, you must, doubtless, Sir, have observed, that great Numbers of
  young Fellows have, for several Months last past, taken upon them to
  wear Feathers.

  We hope, therefore, that these may, with as much Justice, be called
  Indian Princes, as you have styled a Woman in a coloured Hood an
  Indian Queen; and that you will, in due time, take these airy
  Gentlemen into Consideration.

  We the more earnestly beg that you would put a Stop to this Practice,
  since it has already lost us one of the most agreeable Members of our
  Society, who after having refused several good Estates, and two
  Titles, was lured from us last Week by a mixed Feather.

  I am ordered to present you the Respects of our whole Company, and
  am, SIR,
  Your very humble Servant,
  DORINDA.

  Note, The Person wearing the Feather, tho our Friend took him for an
  Officer in the Guards, has proved to be [an arrant Linnen-Draper. [1]]

I am not now at leisure to give my Opinion upon the Hat and Feather;
however to wipe off the present Imputation, and gratifie my Female
Correspondent, I shall here print a Letter which I lately received from
a Man of Mode, who seems to have a very extraordinary Genius in his way.

  SIR,
  I presume I need not inform you, that among Men of Dress it is a
  common Phrase to say Mr. Such an one has struck a bold Stroke; by
  which we understand, that he is the first Man who has had Courage
  enough to lead up a Fashion. Accordingly, when our Taylors take
  Measure of us, they always demand whether we will have a plain Suit,
  or strike a bold Stroke. 1 think I may without Vanity say, that I have
  struck some of the boldest and most successful Strokes of any Man in
  Great Britain. I was the first that struck the Long Pocket about two
  Years since: I was likewise the Author of the Frosted Button, which
  when I saw the Town came readily into, being resolved to strike while
  the Iron was hot, I produced much about the same time the Scallop
  Flap, the knotted Cravat, and made a fair Push for the Silver-clocked
  Stocking.

  A few Months after I brought up the modish Jacket, or the Coat with
  close Sleeves. I struck this at first in a plain Doily; but that
  failing, I struck it a second time in blue Camlet; and repeated the
  Stroke in several kinds of Cloth, till at last it took effect. There
  are two or three young Fellows at the other End of the Town, who have
  always their Eye upon me, and answer me Stroke for Stroke. I was once
  so unwary as to mention my Fancy in relation to the new-fashioned
  Surtout before one of these Gentlemen, who was disingenuous enough to
  steal my Thought, and by that means prevented my intended Stroke.

  I have a Design this Spring to make very considerable Innovations in
  the Wastcoat, and have already begun with a Coup dessai upon the
  Sleeves, which has succeeded very well.

  I must further inform you, if you will promise to encourage or at
  least to connive at me, that it is my Design to strike such a Stroke
  the Beginning of the next Month, as shall surprise the whole Town.

  I do not think it prudent to acquaint you with all the Particulars of
  my intended Dress; but will only tell you, as a Sample of it, that I
  shall very speedily appear at Whites in a Cherry-coloured Hat. I took
  this Hint from the Ladies Hoods, which I look upon as the boldest
  Stroke that Sex has struck for these hundred Years last past.

  I am, SIR,

  Your most Obedient, most Humble Servant,

  Will. Sprightly.

[I have not Time at present to make any Reflections on this Letter, but
must not however omit that having shewn it to WILL. HONEYCOMB, he
desires to be acquainted with the Gentleman who writ it.]

X.

[Footnote 1: only an Ensign in the Train Bands.]

No. 320.              Friday, March 7, 1712.                     Steele.

  [--non pronuba Juno,
  Non Hymenæus adest, non illi Gratia lecto,
  Eumenides stravere torum.

  Ovid. [1]]

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  You have given many Hints in your Papers to the Disadvantage of
  Persons of your own Sex, who lay Plots upon Women. Among other hard
  Words you have published the Term Male-Coquets, and been very severe
  upon such as give themselves the Liberty of a little Dalliance of
  Heart, and playing fast and loose, between Love and Indifference, till
  perhaps an easie young Girl is reduced to Sighs, Dreams and Tears; and
  languishes away her Life for a careless Coxcomb, who looks astonished,
  and wonders at such an Effect from what in him was all but common
  Civility. Thus you have treated the Men who are irresolute in
  Marriage; but if you design to be impartial, pray be so honest as to
  print the Information I now give you, of a certain Set of Women who
  never Coquet for the Matter, but with an high Hand marry whom they
  please to whom they please. As for my Part, I should not have
  concerned my self with them, but that I understand I am pitched upon
  by them, to be married, against my Will, to one I never saw in my
  Life. It has been my Misfortune, Sir, very innocently, to rejoice in a
  plentiful Fortune, of which I am Master, to bespeak a fine Chariot, to
  give Direction for two or three handsome Snuff-Boxes, and as many
  Suits of fine Cloaths; but before any of these were ready, I heard
  Reports of my being to be married to two or three different young
  Women. Upon my taking Notice of it to a young Gentleman who is often
  in my Company he told me smiling, I was in the Inquisition. You may
  believe I was not a little startled at what he meant, and more so when
  he asked me if I had bespoke any thing of late that was fine. I told
  him several; upon which he produced a Description of my Person from
  the Tradesmen whom I had employed, and told me that they had certainly
  informed against me. Mr. SPECTATOR, Whatever the World may think of
  me, I am more Coxcomb than Fool, and I grew very inquisitive upon this
  Head, not a little pleased with the Novelty. My Friend told me there
  were a certain Set of Women of Fashion whereof the Number of Six made
  a Committee, who sat thrice a Week, under the Title of the Inquisition
  on Maids and Batchelors. It seems, whenever there comes such an
  unthinking gay Thing as my self to Town, he must want all Manner of
  Necessaries, or be put into the Inquisition by the first Tradesman he
  employs. They have constant Intelligence with Cane-Shops, Perfumers,
  Toymen, Coach-makers, and China-houses. From these several Places,
  these Undertakers for Marriages have as constant and regular
  Correspondence, as the Funeral-men have with Vintners and
  Apothecaries. All Batchelors are under their immediate Inspection, and
  my Friend produced to me a Report given into their Board, wherein an
  old Unkle of mine, who came to Town with me, and my self, were
  inserted, and we stood thus; the Unkle smoaky, rotten, poor; the
  Nephew raw, but no Fool, sound at present, very rich. My Information
  did not end here, but my Friends Advices are so good, that he could
  shew me a Copy of the Letter sent to the young Lady who is to have me
  which I enclose to you.

     Madam,
    This is to let you know, that you are to be Married to a Beau that
    comes out on Thursday Six in the Evening. Be at the Park. You cannot
    but know a Virgin Fop; they have a Mind to look saucy, but are out
    of Countenance. The Board has denied him to several good Families. I
    wish you Joy.
    Corinna.

What makes my Correspondents Case the more deplorable, is, that as I
find by the Report from my Censor of Marriages, the Friend he speaks of
is employed by the Inquisition to take him in, as the Phrase is. After
all that is told him, he has Information only of one Woman that is laid
for him, and that the wrong one; for the Lady-Commissioners have devoted
him to another than the Person against whom they have employed their
Agent his Friend to alarm him. The Plot is laid so well about this young
Gentleman, that he has no Friend to retire to, no Place to appear in, or
Part of the Kingdom to fly into, but he must fall into the Notice, and
be subject to the Power of the Inquisition. They have their Emissaries
and Substitutes in all Parts of this united Kingdom. The first Step they
usually take, is to find from a Correspondence, by their Messengers and
Whisperers with some Domestick of the Batchelor (who is to be hunted
into the Toils they have laid for him) what are his Manners, his
Familiarities, his good Qualities or Vices; not as the Good in him is a
Recommendation, or the ill a Diminution, but as they affect or
contribute to the main Enquiry, What Estate he has in him? When this
Point is well reported to the Board, they can take in a wild roaring
Fox-hunter, as easily as a soft, gentle young Fop of the Town. The Way
is to make all Places uneasie to him, but the Scenes in which they have
allotted him to act. His Brother Huntsmen, Bottle Companions, his
Fraternity of Fops, shall be brought into the Conspiracy against him.
Then this Matter is not laid in so bare-faced a Manner before him, as to
have it intimated Mrs. Such-a-one would make him a very proper Wife; but
by the Force of their Correspondence they shall make it (as Mr. Waller
said of the Marriage of the Dwarfs) as impracticable to have any Woman
besides her they design him, as it would have been in Adam to have
refused Eve. The Man named by the Commission for Mrs. Such-a-one, shall
neither be in Fashion, nor dare ever to appear in Company, should he
attempt to evade their Determination.

The Female Sex wholly govern domestick Life; and by this Means, when
they think fit, they can sow Dissentions between the dearest Friends,
nay make Father and Son irreconcilable Enemies, in spite of all the Ties
of Gratitude on one Part, and the Duty of Protection to be paid on the
other. The Ladies of the Inquisition understand this perfectly well; and
where Love is not a Motive to a Man's chusing one whom they allot, they
can, with very much Art, insinuate Stories to the Disadvantage of his
Honesty or Courage, till the Creature is too much dispirited to bear up
against a general ill Reception, which he every where meets with, and in
due time falls into their appointed Wedlock for Shelter. I have a long
Letter bearing Date the fourth Instant, which gives me a large Account
of the Policies of this Court; and find there is now before them a very
refractory Person who has escaped all their Machinations for two Years
last past: But they have prevented two successive Matches which were of
his own Inclination, the one, by a Report that his Mistress was to be
married, and the very Day appointed, Wedding-Clothes bought, and all
things ready for her being given to another; the second time, by
insinuating to all his Mistresss Friends and Acquaintance, that he had
been false to several other Women, and the like. The poor Man is now
reduced to profess he designs to lead a single Life; but the Inquisition
gives out to all his Acquaintance, that nothing is intended but the
Gentleman's own Welfare and Happiness. When this is urged, he talks
still more humbly, and protests he aims only at a Life without Pain or
Reproach; Pleasure, Honour or Riches, are things for which he has no
taste. But notwithstanding all this and what else he may defend himself
with, as that the Lady is too old or too young, of a suitable Humour, or
the quite contrary, and that it is impossible they can ever do other
than wrangle from June to January, Every Body tells him all this is
Spleen, and he must have a Wife; while all the Members of the
Inquisition are unanimous in a certain Woman for him, and they think
they all together are better able to judge, than he or any other private
Person whatsoever.

  Temple, March 3, 1711.

  Sir,
  Your Speculation this Day on the Subject of Idleness, has employed me,
  ever since I read it, in sorrowful Reflections on my having loitered
  away the Term (or rather the Vacation) of ten Years in this Place, and
  unhappily suffered a good Chamber and Study to lie idle as long. My
  Books (except those I have taken to sleep upon) have been totally
  neglected, and my Lord Coke and other venerable Authors were never so
  slighted in their Lives. I spent most of the Day at a Neighbouring
  Coffee-House, where we have what I may call a lazy Club. We generally
  come in Night-Gowns, with our Stockings about our Heels, and sometimes
  but one on. Our Salutation at Entrance is a Yawn and a Stretch, and
  then without more Ceremony we take our Place at the Lolling Table;
  where our Discourse is, what I fear you would not read out, therefore
  shall not insert. But I assure you, Sir, I heartily lament this Loss
  of Time, and am now resolved (if possible, with double Diligence) to
  retrieve it, being effectually awakened by the Arguments of Mr. Slack
  out of the Senseless Stupidity that has so long possessed me. And to
  demonstrate that Penitence accompanies my Confession, and Constancy my
  Resolutions, I have locked my Door for a Year, and desire you would
  let my Companions know I am not within. I am with great Respect,

  SIR, Your most obedient Servant,

  N. B.

T.

[Footnote 1:

  Hæ sunt qui tenui sudant in Cyclade.

Hor.]

No. 321.[1]          Saturday, March 8, 1712.                  Addison.

  Nec satis est pulchra esse poemata, dulcia sunto.

  Hor.

Those, who know how many Volumes have been written on the Poems of Homer
and Virgil, will easily pardon the Length of my Discourse upon Milton.
The Paradise Lost is looked upon, by the best Judges, as the greatest
Production, or at least the noblest Work of Genius in our Language, and
therefore deserves to be set before an English Reader in its full
Beauty. For this Reason, tho I have endeavoured to give a general Idea
of its Graces and Imperfections in my Six First Papers, I thought my
self obliged to bestow one upon every Book in particular. The Three
first Books I have already dispatched, and am now entering upon the
Fourth. I need not acquaint my Reader that there are Multitudes of
Beauties in this great Author, especially in the Descriptive Parts of
his Poem, which I have not touched upon, it being my Intention to point
out those only, which appear to me the most exquisite, or those which
are not so obvious to ordinary Readers. Every one that has read the
Criticks who have written upon the Odyssey, the Iliad and the Aeneid,
knows very well, that though they agree in their Opinions of the great
Beauties in those Poems, they have nevertheless each of them discovered
several Master-Strokes, which have escaped the Observation of the rest.
In the same manner, I question not, but any Writer who shall treat of
this Subject after me, may find several Beauties in Milton, which I have
not taken notice of. I must likewise observe, that as the greatest
Masters of Critical Learning differ among one another, as to some
particular Points in an Epic Poem, I have not bound my self scrupulously
to the Rules which any one of them has laid down upon that Art, but have
taken the Liberty sometimes to join with one, and sometimes with
another, and sometimes to differ from all of them, when I have thought
that the Reason of the thing was on my side.

We may consider the Beauties of the Fourth Book under three Heads. In
the first are those Pictures of Still-Life, which we meet with in the
Description of Eden, Paradise, Adams Bower, &c. In the next are the
Machines, which comprehend the Speeches and Behaviour of the good and
bad Angels. In the last is the Conduct of Adam and Eve, who are the
Principal Actors in the Poem.

In the Description of Paradise, the Poet has observed Aristotle's Rule
of lavishing all the Ornaments of Diction on the weak unactive Parts of
the Fable, which are not supported by the Beauty of Sentiments and
Characters. [2] Accordingly the Reader may observe, that the Expressions
are more florid and elaborate in these Descriptions, than in most other
Parts of the Poem. I must further add, that tho the Drawings of
Gardens, Rivers, Rainbows, and the like dead Pieces of Nature, are
justly censured in an Heroic Poem, when they run out into an unnecessary
length; the Description of Paradise would have been faulty, had not the
Poet been very particular in it, not only as it is the Scene of the
Principal Action, but as it is requisite to give us an Idea of that
Happiness from which our first Parents fell. The Plan of it is
wonderfully Beautiful, and formed upon the short Sketch which we have of
it in Holy Writ. Milton's Exuberance of Imagination has poured forth
such a Redundancy of Ornaments on this Seat of Happiness and Innocence,
that it would be endless to point out each Particular.

I must not quit this Head, without further observing, that there is
scarce a Speech of Adam or Eve in the whole Poem, wherein the Sentiments
and Allusions are not taken from this their delightful Habitation. The
Reader, during their whole Course of Action, always finds himself in the
Walks of Paradise. In short, as the Criticks have remarked, that in
those Poems, wherein Shepherds are Actors, the Thoughts ought always to
take a Tincture from the Woods, Fields and Rivers, so we may observe,
that our first Parents seldom lose Sight of their happy Station in any
thing they speak or do; and, if the Reader will give me leave to use the
Expression, that their Thoughts are always Paradisiacal.

We are in the next place to consider the Machines of the Fourth Book.
Satan being now within Prospect of Eden, and looking round upon the
Glories of the Creation, is filled with Sentiments different from those
which he discovered whilst he was in Hell. The Place inspires him with
Thoughts more adapted to it: He reflects upon the happy Condition from
which he fell, and breaks forth into a Speech that is softned with
several transient Touches of Remorse and Self-accusation: But at length
he confirms himself in Impenitence, and in his Design of drawing Man
into his own State of Guilt and Misery. This Conflict of Passions is
raised with a great deal of Art, as the opening of his Speech to the Sun
is very bold and noble.

  O thou that with surpassing Glory crown'd,
  Look'st from thy sole Dominion like the God
  Of this new World; at whose Sight all the Stars
  Hide their diminish'd Heads; to thee I call,
  But with no friendly Voice, and add thy name,
  O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
  That bring to my Remembrance from what State
  I fell, how glorious once above thy Sphere.

This Speech is, I think, the finest that is ascribed to Satan in the
whole Poem. The Evil Spirit afterwards proceeds to make his Discoveries
concerning our first Parents, and to learn after what manner they may be
best attacked. His bounding over the Walls of Paradise; his sitting in
the Shape of a Cormorant upon the Tree of Life, which stood in the
Center of it, and overtopped all the other Trees of the Garden, his
alighting among the Herd of Animals, which are so beautifully
represented as playing about Adam and Eve, together with his
transforming himself into different Shapes, in order to hear their
Conversation, are Circumstances that give an agreeable Surprize to the
Reader, and are devised with great Art, to connect that Series of
Adventures in which the Poet has engaged [this [3]] Artificer of Fraud.

The Thought of Satan's Transformation into a Cormorant, and placing
himself on the Tree of Life, seems raised upon that Passage in the
Iliad, where two Deities are described, as perching on the Top of an Oak
in the shape of Vulturs.

His planting himself at the Ear of Eve under the [form [4]] of a Toad,
in order to produce vain Dreams and Imaginations, is a Circumstance of
the same Nature; as his starting up in his own Form is wonderfully fine,
both in the Literal Description, and in the Moral which is concealed
under it. His Answer upon his being discovered, and demanded to give an
Account of himself, [is [5]] conformable to the Pride and Intrepidity of
his Character.

  Know ye not then, said Satan, fill'd with Scorn,
  Know ye not Me? ye knew me once no mate
  For you, there sitting where you durst not soar;
  Not to know Me argues your selves unknown,
  The lowest of your throng;--

Zephon's Rebuke, with the Influence it had on Satan, is exquisitely
Graceful and Moral. Satan is afterwards led away to Gabriel, the chief
of the Guardian Angels, who kept watch in Paradise. His disdainful
Behaviour on this Occasion is so remarkable a Beauty, that the most
ordinary Reader cannot but take Notice of it. Gabriel's discovering his
Approach at a Distance, is drawn with great strength and liveliness of
Imagination.

  O Friends, I hear the tread of nimble Feet
  Hasting this Way, and now by glimps discern
  Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade;
  And with them comes a third of Regal Port,
  But faded splendor wan; who by his gait
  And fierce demeanor seems the Prince of Hell;
  Not likely to part hence without contest:
  Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.

The Conference between Gabriel and Satan abounds with Sentiments proper
for the Occasion, and suitable to the Persons of the two Speakers. Satan
cloathing himself with Terror when he prepares for the Combat is truly
sublime, and at least equal to Homers Description of Discord celebrated
by Longinus, or to that of Fame in Virgil, who are both represented with
their Feet standing upon the Earth, and their Heads reaching above the
Clouds.

  While thus he spake, th' Angelic Squadron bright
  Turn'd fiery red, sharpning in mooned Horns
  Their Phalanx, and began to hem him round
  With ported Spears, &c.

 --On the other side Satan alarm'd,
  Collecting all his might dilated stood
  Like Teneriff, or Atlas, unremov'd.
  His Stature reached the Sky, and on his Crest
  Sat horror plum'd;--

I must here take [notice, [6]] that Milton is every where full of Hints
and sometimes literal Translations, taken from the greatest of the Greek
and Latin Poets. But this I may reserve for a Discourse by it self,
because I would not break the Thread of these Speculations, that are
designed for English Readers, with such Reflections as would be of no
use but to the Learned.

I must however observe in this Place, that the breaking off the Combat
between Gabriel and Satan, by the hanging out of the Golden Scales in
Heaven, is a Refinement upon Homers Thought, who tells us, that before
the Battle between Hector and Achilles, Jupiter weighed the Event of it
in a pair of Scales. The Reader may see the whole Passage in the 22nd
Iliad.

Virgil, before the last decisive Combat, describes Jupiter in the same
manner, as weighing the Fates of Turnus and Æneas. Milton, though he
fetched this beautiful Circumstance from the Iliad and Æneid, does not
only insert it as a Poetical Embellishment, like the Authors
above-mentioned; but makes an artful use of it for the proper carrying
on of his Fable, and for the breaking off the Combat between the two
Warriors, who were upon the point of engaging. [To this we may further
add, that Milton is the more justified in this Passage, as we find the
same noble Allegory in Holy Writ, where a wicked Prince, some few Hours
before he was assaulted and slain, is said to have been weighed in the
Scales, and to have been found wanting.]

I must here take Notice under the Head of the Machines, that Uriel's
gliding down to the Earth upon a Sunbeam, with the Poets Device to make
him descend, as well in his return to the Sun, as in his coming from it,
is a Prettiness that might have been admired in a little fanciful Poet,
but seems below the Genius of Milton. The Description of the Host of
armed Angels walking their nightly Round in Paradise, is of another
Spirit.

  So saying, on he led his radiant files,
  Dazling the Moon;--

as that Account of the Hymns which our first Parents used to hear them
sing in these their Midnight Walks, is altogether Divine, and
inexpressibly amusing to the Imagination.

We are, in the last place, to consider the Parts which Adam and Eve act
in the Fourth Book. The Description of them as they first appeared to
Satan, is exquisitely drawn, and sufficient to make the fallen Angel
gaze upon them with all that Astonishment, and those Emotions of Envy,
in which he is represented.

  Two of far nobler Shape erect and tall,
  God-like erect! with native honour clad
  In naked Majesty, seem'd lords of all;
  And worthy seem'd: for in their looks divine
  The image of their glorious Maker shon,
  Truth, Wisdom, Sanctitude severe and pure;
  Severe, but in true filial freedom plac'd:
  For contemplation he and valour form'd,
  For softness she and sweet attractive grace;
  He for God only, she for God in him.
  His fair large front, and eye sublime, declar'd
  Absolute rule; and Hyacinthin Locks
  Round from his parted forelock manly hung
  Clustring, but not beneath his Shoulders broad.
  She, as a Veil, down to her slender waste
  Her unadorned golden tresses wore
  Dis-shevel'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd.
  So pass'd they naked on, nor shun'd the Sight
  Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill:
  So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair
  That ever since in loves embraces met.

There is a fine Spirit of Poetry in the Lines which follow, wherein they
are described as sitting on a Bed of Flowers by the side of a Fountain,
amidst a mixed Assembly of Animals.

The Speeches of these two first Lovers flow equally from Passion and
Sincerity. The Professions they make to one another are full of Warmth:
but at the same time founded on Truth. In a Word, they are the
Gallantries of Paradise:

 --When Adam first of Men--
  Sole partner and sole part of all these joys,
  Dearer thy self than all;--
  But let us ever praise him, and extol
  His bounty, following our delightful Task,
  To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowrs;
  Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.

  To whom thus Eve reply'd. O thou for whom,
  And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
  And without whom am to no end, my Guide
  And Head, what thou hast said is just and right.
  For we to him indeed all praises owe.
  And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
  So far the happier Lot, enjoying thee
  Preeminent by so much odds, while thou
  Like consort to thy self canst no where find, &c.

The remaining part of Eves Speech, in which she gives an Account of her
self upon her first Creation, and the manner in which she was brought to
Adam, is I think as beautiful a Passage as any in Milton, or perhaps in
any other Poet whatsoever. These Passages are all worked off with so
much Art, that they are capable of pleasing the most delicate Reader,
without offending the most severe.

  That Day I oft remember, when from Sleep, &c.

A Poet of less Judgment and Invention than this great Author, would have
found it very difficult to have filled [these [7]] tender Parts of the
Poem with Sentiments proper for a State of Innocence; to have described
the Warmth of Love, and the Professions of it, without Artifice or
Hyperbole: to have made the Man speak the most endearing things, without
descending from his natural Dignity, and the Woman receiving them
without departing from the Modesty of her Character; in a Word, to
adjust the Prerogatives of Wisdom and Beauty, and make each appear to
the other in its proper Force and Loveliness. This mutual Subordination
of the two Sexes is wonderfully kept up in the whole Poem, as
particularly in the Speech of Eve I have before mentioned, and upon the
Conclusion of it in the following Lines.

  So spake our general Mother, and with eyes
  Of Conjugal attraction unreproved,
  And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd
  On our first father; half her swelling breast
  Naked met his under the flowing Gold
  Of her loose tresses hid: he in delight
  Both of her beauty and submissive charms
  Smil'd with superior Love.--

The Poet adds, that the Devil turned away with Envy at the sight of so
much Happiness.

We have another View of our first Parents in their Evening Discourses,
which is full of pleasing Images and Sentiments suitable to their
Condition and Characters. The Speech of Eve, in particular, is dressed
up in such a soft and natural Turn of Words and Sentiments, as cannot be
sufficiently admired.

I shall close my Reflections upon this Book, with observing the Masterly
Transition which the Poet makes to their Evening Worship in the
following Lines.

  Thus at their shady Lodge arriv'd, both stood,
  Both turn'd, and under open Sky, ador'd
  The God that made both [Sky,] Air, Earth and Heaven,
  Which they beheld, the Moons resplendent Globe,
  And Starry Pole: Thou also madst the Night,
  Maker Omnipotent, and thou the Day, &c.

Most of the Modern Heroick Poets have imitated the Ancients, in
beginning a Speech without premising, that the Person said thus or thus;
but as it is easie to imitate the Ancients in the Omission of two or
three Words, it requires Judgment to do it in such a manner as they
shall not be missed, and that the Speech may begin naturally without
them. There is a fine Instance of this Kind out of Homer, in the Twenty
Third Chapter of Longinus.

L.

[Footnote 1: From this date to the end of the series the Saturday papers
upon Milton exceed the usual length of a Spectator essay. That they may
not occupy more than the single leaf of the original issue, they are
printed in smaller type; the columns also, when necessary, encroach on
the bottom margin of the paper, and there are few advertisements
inserted.]

[Footnote 2: At the end of the third Book of the Poetics.

  The diction should be most laboured in the idle parts of the poem;
  those in which neither manners nor sentiments prevail; for the manners
  and the sentiments are only obscured by too splendid a diction.]

[Footnote 3: [this great]]

[Footnote 4: [shape]]

[Footnote 5: [are]]

[Footnote 6: notice by the way]

[Footnote 7: [those]]

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS EARL OF WHARTON.[1]

My LORD,

The Author of the Spectator having prefixed before each of his Volumes
the Name of some great Person to whom he has particular Obligations,
lays his Claim to your Lordships Patronage upon the same Account. I
must confess, my Lord, had not I already received great Instances of
your Favour, I should have been afraid of submitting a Work of this
Nature to your Perusal. You are so thoroughly acquainted with the
Characters of Men, and all the Parts of human Life, that it is
impossible for the least Misrepresentation of them to escape your
Notice. It is Your Lordships particular Distinction that you are Master
of the whole Compass of Business, and have signalized Your Self in all
the different Scenes of it. We admire some for the Dignity, others for
the Popularity of their Behaviour; some for their Clearness of Judgment,
others for their Happiness of Expression; some for the laying of
Schemes, and others for the putting of them in Execution: It is Your
Lordship only who enjoys these several Talents united, and that too in
as great Perfection as others possess them singly. Your Enemies
acknowledge this great Extent in your Lordships Character, at the same
time that they use their utmost Industry and Invention to derogate from
it. But it is for Your Honour that those who are now Your Enemies were
always so. You have acted in so much Consistency with Your Self, and
promoted the Interests of your Country in so uniform a Manner, that even
those who would misrepresent your Generous Designs for the Publick Good,
cannot but approve the Steadiness and Intrepidity with which You pursue
them. It is a most sensible Pleasure to me that I have this Opportunity
of professing my self one of your great Admirers, and, in a very
particular Manner,

My LORD,
Your Lordships
Most Obliged,
And most Obedient,
Humble Servant,
THE SPECTATOR.

[Footnote 1: This is the Thomas, Earl of Wharton, who in 1708 became
Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and took Addison for his Chief Secretary. He
was the son of Philip, Baron Wharton, a firm Presbyterian, sometimes
called the good Lord Wharton, to distinguish him from his son and
grandson. Philip Wharton had been an opponent of Stuart encroachments, a
friend of Algernon Sidney, and one of the first men to welcome William
III. to England. He died, very old, in 1694. His son Thomas did not
inherit the religious temper of his father, and even a dedication could
hardly have ventured to compliment him on his private morals. But he was
an active politician, was with his father in the secret of the landing
of the Prince of Orange, and was made by William Comptroller of the
Household. Thwarted in his desire to become a Secretary of State, he
made himself formidable as a bold, sarcastic speaker and by the strength
of his parliamentary interest. He is said to have returned at one time
thirty members, and to have spent eighty thousand pounds upon the
maintenance of his political position. He was apt, by his manners, to
make friends of the young men of influence. He spent money freely also
on the turf, and upon his seat of Winchenden, in Wilts. Queen Anne, on
her accession, struck his name with her own hand from the list of Privy
Councillors, but he won his way not only to restoration of that rank,
but also in December, 1706, at the age of 67, to his title of Viscount
Winchendon and Earl of Wharton. In November, 1708, he became
Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, with Addison for secretary. He took over
with him also Clayton the musician, and kept a gay court, easily
accessible, except to Roman Catholics, whom he would not admit to his
presence, and against whom he enforced the utmost rigour of the penal
code. He had himself conformed to the Church of England. Swift accused
him, as Lord-lieutenant, of shameless depravity of manners, of
injustice, greed, and gross venality. This Lord Wharton died in 1715,
and was succeeded by his son Philip, whom George I., in 1718, made Duke
of Wharton for his fathers vigorous support of the Hanoverian
succession. His character was much worse than that of his father, the
energetic politician and the man of cultivated taste and ready wit to
whom Steele and Addison here dedicated the Fifth Volume of the
Spectator.]

No. 322.              Monday, March 10, 1712.                  Steele.

  Ad humum mærore gravi deducit et angit.

  Hor.

It is often said, after a Man has heard a Story with extraordinary
Circumstances, It is a very good one if it be true: But as for the
following Relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. It is
told with such Simplicity, and there are so many artless Touches of
Distress in it, that I fear it comes too much from the Heart.

  Mr. SPECTATOR, Some Years ago it happened that I lived in the same
  House with a young Gentleman of Merit; with whose good Qualities I was
  so much taken, as to make it my Endeavour to shew as many as I was
  able in my self. Familiar Converse improved general Civilities into an
  unfeigned Passion on both Sides. He watched an Opportunity to declare
  himself to me; and I, who could not expect a Man of so great an Estate
  as his, received his Addresses in such Terms, as gave him no reason to
  believe I was displeased by them, tho I did nothing to make him think
  me more easy than was decent. His Father was a very hard worldly Man,
  and proud; so that there was no reason to believe he would easily be
  brought to think there was any thing in any Woman's Person or
  Character that could ballance the Disadvantage of an unequal Fortune.
  In the mean time the Son continued his Application to me, and omitted
  no Occasion of demonstrating the most disinterested Passion imaginable
  to me; and in plain direct Terms offer'd to marry me privately, and
  keep it so till he should be so happy as to gain his Fathers
  Approbation, or become possessed of his Estate. I passionately loved
  him, and you will believe I did not deny such a one what was my
  Interest also to grant. However I was not so young, as not to take the
  Precaution of carrying with me a faithful Servant, who had been also
  my Mothers Maid, to be present at the Ceremony. When that was over I
  demanded a Certificate, signed by the Minister, my Husband, and the
  Servant I just now spoke of. After our Nuptials, we conversed together
  very familiarly in the same House; but the Restraints we were
  generally under, and the Interviews we had, being stolen and
  interrupted, made our Behaviour to each other have rather the
  impatient Fondness which is visible in Lovers, than the regular and
  gratified Affection which is to be observed in Man and Wife. This
  Observation made the Father very anxious for his Son, and press him to
  a Match he had in his Eye for him. To relieve my Husband from this
  Importunity, and conceal the Secret of our Marriage, which I had
  reason to know would not be long in my power in Town, it was resolved
  that I should retire into a remote Place in the Country, and converse
  under feigned Names by Letter. We long continued this Way of Commerce;
  and I with my Needle, a few Books, and reading over and over my
  Husbands Letters, passed my Time in a resigned Expectation of better
  Days. Be pleased to take notice, that within four Months after I left
  my Husband I was delivered of a Daughter, who died within few Hours
  after her Birth. This Accident, and the retired Manner of Life I led,
  gave criminal Hopes to a neighbouring Brute of a Country Gentle-man,
  whose Folly was the Source of all my Affliction. This Rustick is one
  of those rich Clowns, who supply the Want of all manner of Breeding by
  the Neglect of it, and with noisy Mirth, half Understanding, and ample
  Fortune, force themselves upon Persons and Things, without any Sense
  of Time and Place. The poor ignorant People where I lay conceal'd, and
  now passed for a Widow, wondered I could be so shy and strange, as
  they called it, to the Squire; and were bribed by him to admit him
  whenever he thought fit. I happened to be sitting in a little Parlour
  which belonged to my own Part of the House, and musing over one of the
  fondest of my Husbands Letters, in which I always kept the
  Certificate of my Marriage, when this rude Fellow came in, and with
  the nauseous Familiarity of such unbred Brutes, snatched the Papers
  out of my Hand. I was immediately under so great a Concern, that I
  threw my self at his Feet, and begged of him to return them. He with
  the same odious Pretence to Freedom and Gaiety, swore he would read
  them. I grew more importunate, he more curious, till at last, with an
  Indignation arising from a Passion I then first discovered in him, he
  threw the Papers into the Fire, swearing that since he was not to read
  them, the Man who writ them should never be so happy as to have me
  read them over again. It is insignificant to tell you my Tears and
  Reproaches made the boisterous Calf leave the Room ashamed and out of
  Countenance, when I had leisure to ruminate on this Accident with more
  than ordinary Sorrow: However, such was then my Confidence in my
  Husband, that I writ to him the Misfortune, and desired another Paper
  of the same kind. He deferred writing two or three Posts, and at last
  answered me in general, That he could not then send me what I asked
  for, but when he could find a proper Conveyance, I should be sure to
  have it. From this time his Letters were more cold every Day than the
  other, and as he grew indifferent I grew jealous. This has at last
  brought me to Town, where I find both the Witnesses of my Marriage
  dead, and that my Husband, after three Months Cohabitation, has buried
  a young Lady whom he married in Obedience to his Father. In a word, he
  shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the House and confront him, the
  Father would join in supporting him against me, though he believed my
  Story; should I talk it to the World, what Reparation can I expect for
  an Injury I cannot make out? I believe he means to bring me, through
  Necessity, to resign my Pretentions to him for some Provision for my
  Life; but I will die first. Pray bid him remember what he said, and
  how he was charmed when he laughed at the heedless Discovery I often
  made of my self; let him remember how awkward he was in my dissembled
  Indifference towards him before Company; ask him how I, who could
  never conceal my Love for him, at his own Request, can part with him
  for ever? Oh, Mr. SPECTATOR, sensible Spirits know no Indifference in
  Marriage; what then do you think is my piercing Affliction?---I leave
  you to represent my Distress your own way, in which I desire you to be
  speedy, if you have Compassion for Innocence exposed to Infamy.
  Octavia.

T.

No. 323.             Tuesday, March 11, 1712.                  Addison.

  Modo Vir, modo Foemina. [1]

  Virg.

The journal with which I presented my Reader on Tuesday last, has
brought me in several Letters, with Accounts of many private Lives cast
into that Form. I have the Rakes Journal, the Sots Journal, the
Whoremasters Journal, and among several others a very curious Piece,
entituled, The Journal of a Mohock. By these Instances I find that the
Intention of my last Tuesdays Paper has been mistaken by many of my
Readers. I did not design so much to expose Vice as Idleness, and aimed
at those Persons who pass away their Time rather in Trifle and
Impertinence, than in Crimes and Immoralities. Offences of this latter
kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In
short, my Journal only holds up Folly to the Light, and shews the
Disagreeableness of such Actions as are indifferent in themselves, and
blameable only as they proceed from Creatures endow'd with Reason.

My following Correspondent, who calls her self Clarinda, is such a
Journalist as I require: She seems by her Letter to be placed in a
modish State of Indifference between Vice and Virtue, and to be
susceptible of either, were there proper Pains taken with her. Had her
Journal been filled with Gallantries, or such Occurrences as had shewn
her wholly divested of her natural Innocence, notwithstanding it might
have been more pleasing to the Generality of Readers, I should not have
published it; but as it is only the Picture of a Life filled with a
fashionable kind of Gaiety and Laziness, I shall set down five Days of
it, as I have received it from the Hand of my fair Correspondent.

  Dear Mr. SPECTATOR,
  You having set your Readers an Exercise in one of your last Weeks
  Papers, I have perform'd mine according to your Orders, and herewith
  send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. SPECTATOR, that I am a Maiden
  Lady of a good Fortune, who have had several Matches offered me for
  these ten Years last past, and have at present warm Applications made
  to me by a very pretty Fellow. As I am at my own Disposal, I come up
  to Town every Winter, and pass my Time in it after the manner you will
  find in the following Journal, which I begun to write upon the very
  Day after your Spectator upon that Subject.

    TUESDAY Night. Could not go to sleep till one in the Morning for
    thinking of my Journal.

    WEDNESDAY. From Eight till Ten, Drank two Dishes of Chocolate in
    Bed, and fell asleep after em.

    From Ten to Eleven. Eat a Slice of Bread and Butter, drank a Dish of
    Bohea, read the Spectator.

    From Eleven to One. At my Toilet, try'd a new Head. Gave Orders for
    Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in Blue.

    From One till Half an Hour after Two. Drove to the Change. Cheapned
    a Couple of Fans.

    Till Four. At Dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new Liveries.

    From Four to Six. Dressed, paid a Visit to old Lady Blithe and her
    Sister, having before heard they were gone out of Town that Day.

    From Six to Eleven. At Basset. Mem. Never set again upon the Ace of
    Diamonds.

    THURSDAY. From Eleven at Night to Eight in the Morning. Dream'd that
    I punted to Mr. Froth.

    From Eight to Ten. Chocolate. Read two Acts in Aurenzebe [2] abed.

    From Ten to Eleven. Tea-Table. Sent to borrow Lady Faddles Cupid
    for Veny. Read the Play-Bills. Received a Letter from Mr. Froth.
    Mem. locked it up in my strong Box.

    Rest of the Morning. Fontange, the Tire-woman, her Account of my
    Lady Blithe's Wash. Broke a Tooth in my little Tortoise-shell Comb.
    Sent Frank to know how my Lady Hectick rested after her Monky's
    leaping out at Window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my Glass is
    not true. Dressed by Three.

    From Three to Four. Dinner cold before I sat down.

    From Four to Eleven. Saw Company. Mr. Froths Opinion of Milton. His
    Account of the Mohocks. His Fancy for a Pin-cushion. Picture in the
    Lid of his Snuff-box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her Woman to cut
    my Hair. Lost five Guineas at Crimp.

    Twelve a-Clock at Night. Went to Bed.

    FRIDAY. Eight in the Morning. Abed. Read over all Mr. Froths
    Letters. Cupid and Veny.

    Ten a-Clock. Stay'd within all day, not at home.

    From Ten to Twelve. In Conference with my Mantua-Maker. Sorted a
    Suit of Ribbands. Broke my Blue China Cup.

    From Twelve to One. Shut my self up in my Chamber, practised Lady
    Betty Modely's Skuttle.

    One in the Afternoon. Called for my flowered Handkerchief. Worked
    half a Violet-Leaf in it. Eyes aked and Head out of Order. Threw by
    my Work, and read over the remaining Part of Aurenzebe.

    From Three to Four. Dined.

    From Four to Twelve. Changed my Mind, dressed, went abroad, and
    play'd at Crimp till Midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home.
    Conversation: Mrs. Brilliants Necklace false Stones. Old Lady
    Loveday going to be married to a young Fellow that is not worth a
    Groat. Miss Prue gone into the Country. Tom Townley has red Hair.
    Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my Ear that she had something to tell
    me about Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true.

    Between Twelve and One. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my Feet, and
    called me Indamora. [3]

    SATURDAY. Rose at Eight a-Clock in the Morning. Sate down to my
    Toilet.

    From Eight to Nine. Shifted a Patch for Half an Hour before I could
    determine it. Fixed it above my left Eye-brow.

    From Nine to Twelve. Drank my Tea, and dressed.

    From Twelve to Two. At Chappel. A great deal of good Company. Mem.
    The third Air in the new Opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully.

    From Three to Four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the
    Opera before I was risen from Table.

    From Dinner to Six. Drank Tea. Turned off a Footman for being rude
    to Veny.

    Six a-Clock. Went to the Opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the
    beginning of the second Act. Mr. Froth talked to a Gentleman in a
    black Wig. Bowed to a Lady in the front Box. Mr. Froth and his
    Friend clapp'd Nicolini in the third Act. Mr. Froth cried out
    Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my Chair. I think he squeezed my Hand.

    Eleven at Night. Went to Bed. Melancholy Dreams. Methought Nicolini
    said he was Mr. Froth.

    SUNDAY. Indisposed.

    MONDAY. Eight a-Clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurenzebe lay upon the
    Chair by me. Kitty repeated without Book the Eight best Lines in the
    Play. Went in our Mobbs to the dumb Man [4], according to
    Appointment. Told me that my Lovers Name began with a G.  Mem. The
    Conjurer was within a Letter of Mr. Froths Name, &c.

  Upon looking back into this my Journal, I find that I am at a loss to
  know whether I pass my Time well or ill; and indeed never thought of
  considering how I did it before I perused your Speculation upon that
  Subject. I scarce find a single Action in these five Days that I can
  thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the Violet-Leaf, which
  I am resolved to finish the first Day I am at leisure. As for Mr.
  Froth and Veny I did not think they took up so much of my Time and
  Thoughts, as I find they do upon my Journal. The latter of them I will
  turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring
  Matters to a Conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my Life run away
  in a Dream.
  Your humble Servant,
  Clarinda.

To resume one of the Morals of my first Paper, and to confirm Clarinda
in her good Inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty Figure
she would make among Posterity, were the History of her whole Life
published like these five Days of it. I shall conclude my Paper with an
Epitaph written by an uncertain Author [5] on Sir Philip Sidney's
Sister, a Lady who seems to have been of a Temper very much different
from that of Clarinda. The last Thought of it is so very noble, that I
dare say my Reader will pardon me the Quotation.

  On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke.
  Underneath this Marble Hearse
  Lies the Subject of all Verse,
  Sidney's Sister, Pembroke's Mother:
  Death, ere thou hast kill'd another,
  Fair, and learn'd, and good as she,
  Time shall throw a Dart at thee.

[Footnote 1: A quotation from memory of Virgil's  Et juvenis quondam
nunc foemina. Æn. vi. 448.]

[Footnote 2: Dryden's.]

[Footnote 3: The heroine of Aurengzebe.]

[Footnote 4: Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb, and to tell
fortunes by second sight. In 1732 there appeared Secret Memoirs of the
late Mr. D. Campbell.... written by himself... with an Appendix by way
of vindicating Mr. C. against the groundless aspersion cast upon him,
that he but pretended to be deaf and dumb.]

[Footnote 5: Ben Jonson.]

No. 324.            Wednesday, March 12, 1712.                  Steele.

  [O curvæ in terris animæ, et coelestium inanes.

  Pers [1].]

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  The  Materials you have collected together towards a general History
  of Clubs, make so bright a Part of your Speculations, that I think it
  is but a Justice we all owe the learned World to furnish you with such
  Assistances as may promote that useful Work. For this Reason I could
  not forbear communicating to you some imperfect Informations of a Set
  of Men (if you will allow them a place in that Species of Being) who
  have lately erected themselves into a Nocturnal Fraternity, under the
  Title of the Mohock Club, a Name borrowed it seems from a sort of
  Cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the
  Nations about them. The President is styled Emperor of the Mohocks;
  and his Arms are a Turkish Crescent, which his Imperial Majesty bears
  at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his Forehead.
  Agreeable to their Name, the avowed design of their Institution is
  Mischief; and upon this Foundation all their Rules and Orders are
  framed. An outrageous Ambition of doing all possible hurt to their
  Fellow-Creatures, is the great Cement of their Assembly, and the only
  Qualification required in the Members. In order to exert this
  Principle in its full Strength and Perfection, they take care to drink
  themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the Possibility of attending to
  any Motions of Reason and Humanity; then make a general Sally, and
  attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the Streets through
  which they patrole. Some are knock'd down, others stabb'd, others cut
  and carbonado'd. To put the Watch to a total Rout, and mortify some of
  those inoffensive Militia, is reckon'd a Coup d'eclat. The particular
  Talents by which these Misanthropes are distinguished from one
  another, consist in the various kinds of Barbarities which they
  execute upon their Prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy
  Dexterity in tipping the Lion upon them; which is performed by
  squeezing the Nose flat to the Face, and boring out the Eyes with
  their Fingers: Others are called the Dancing-Masters, and teach their
  Scholars to cut Capers by running Swords thro their Legs; a new
  Invention, whether originally French I cannot tell: A third sort are
  the Tumblers, whose office it is to set Women on their Heads, and
  commit certain Indecencies, or rather Barbarities, on the Limbs which
  they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they cant but be
  very shocking to the Reader as well as the SPECTATOR. In this manner
  they carry on a War against Mankind; and by the standing Maxims of
  their Policy, are to enter into no Alliances but one, and that is
  Offensive and Defensive with all Bawdy-Houses in general, of which
  they have declared themselves Protectors and Guarantees. [2]

  I must own, Sir, these are only broken incoherent Memoirs of this
  wonderful Society, but they are the best I have been yet able to
  procure; for being but of late Establishment, it is not ripe for a
  just History; And to be serious, the chief Design of this Trouble is
  to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleas'd, out of a
  concern for the good of your Countrymen, to act under the Character of
  SPECTATOR, not only the Part of a Looker-on, but an Overseer of their
  Actions; and whenever such Enormities as this infest the Town, we
  immediately fly to you for Redress. I have reason to believe, that
  some thoughtless Youngsters, out of a false Notion of Bravery, and an
  immoderate Fondness to be distinguished for Fellows of Fire, are
  insensibly hurry'd into this senseless scandalous Project: Such will
  probably stand corrected by your Reproofs, especially if you inform
  them, that it is not Courage for half a score Fellows, mad with Wine
  and Lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that
  the Manners of Indian Savages are no becoming Accomplishments to an
  English fine Gentleman. Such of them as have been Bullies and Scowrers
  of a long standing, and are grown Veterans in this kind of Service,
  are, I fear, too hardned to receive any Impressions from your
  Admonitions. But I beg you would recommend to their Perusal your ninth
  Speculation: They may there be taught to take warning from the Club of
  Duellists; and be put in mind, that the common Fate of those Men of
  Honour was to be hang'd.

  I am, SIR,

  Your most humble Servant,

  Philanthropos

  March the 10th, 1711-12.

The following Letter is of a quite contrary nature; but I add it here,
that the Reader may observe at the same View, how amiable Ignorance may
be when it is shewn in its Simplicities, and how detestable in
Barbarities. It is written by an honest Countryman to his Mistress, and
came to the Hands of a Lady of good Sense wrapped about a Thread-Paper,
who has long kept it by her as an Image of artless Love.

  To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.

  Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray
  you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy
  the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I
  had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Powder at the Apothecary's
  Shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my
  flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the more bold now to
  write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match
  where I please; for my Father is taken away, and now I am come to my
  Living, which is Ten Yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard
  of Land in our Field but it is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a
  Thief is worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided
  for: Besides I have good Houshold-stuff, though I say it, both Brass
  and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched,
  yet, if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of
  it slated. If you think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as
  soon as my new Cloaths is made and Hay Harvest is in. I could, though
  I say it, have good--

The rest is torn off; [3] and Posterity must be contented to know, that
Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty, but are left in the dark as to the
Name of her Lover.

T.

[Footnote 1:

  [Sævis inter se convenit Ursis.

Juv.]]

[Footnote 2: Gay tells also in his Trivia that the Mohocks rolled women
in hogs-heads down Snow hill. Swift wrote of the Mohocks, at this time,
in his Journal to Stella,

  Grub-street papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed
  of near eighty put into several prisons, and all a lie, and I begin to
  think there is no truth, or very little, in the whole story.

On the 18th of March an attempt was made to put the Mohocks down by
Royal Proclamation.]

[Footnote 3: This letter is said to have been really sent to one who
married Mr. Cole, a Northampton attorney, by a neighbouring freeholder
named Gabriel Bullock, and shown to Steele by his friend the antiquary,
Browne Willis. See also No. 328.]

No. 325.             Thursday, March 13, 1712.                  Budgell

  Quid frustra Simulacra fugacia captas?
  Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.
  Ista repercussæ quam cernis imaginis umbra est,
  Nil habet ista sui; tecum venitque, manetque,
  Tecum discedet si tu discedere possis.

  Ovid.

WILL. HONEYCOMB diverted us last Night with an Account of a young
Fellows first discovering his Passion to his Mistress. The young Lady
was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable Opinion of
him, and was still in hopes that he would some time or other make his
Advances. As he was one day talking with her in Company of her two
Sisters, the Conversation happening to turn upon Love, each of the young
Ladies was by way of Raillery,  recommending a Wife to him; when, to the
no small Surprize of her who languished for him in secret, he told them
with a more than ordinary Seriousness, that his Heart had been long
engaged to one whose Name he thought himself obliged in Honour to
conceal; but that he could shew her Picture in the Lid of his Snuff-box.
The young Lady, who found herself the most sensibly touched by this
Confession, took the first Opportunity that offered of snatching his Box
out of his Hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it, but finding her
resolved to look into the Lid, begged her, that if she should happen to
know the Person, she would not reveal her Name. Upon carrying it to the
Window, she was very agreeably surprized to find there was nothing
within the Lid but a little Looking-Glass, in which, after she had
view'd her own Face with more Pleasure than she had ever done before,
she returned the Box with a Smile, telling him, she could not but admire
at his Choice.

WILL. fancying that his Story took, immediately fell into a Dissertation
on the Usefulness of Looking-Glasses, and applying himself to me, asked,
if there were any Looking Glasses in the Times of the Greeks and Romans;
for that he had often observed in the Translations of Poems out of those
Languages, that People generally talked of seeing themselves in Wells,
Fountains, Lakes, and Rivers: Nay, says he, I remember Mr. Dryden in his
Ovid tells us of a swingeing Fellow, called Polypheme, that made use of
the Sea for his Looking-Glass, and could never dress himself to
Advantage but in a Calm.

My Friend WILL, to shew us the whole Compass of his Learning upon this
Subject, further informed us, that there were still several Nations in
the World so very barbarous as not to have any Looking-Glasses among
them; and that he had lately read a Voyage to the South-Sea, in which it
is said, that the Ladies of Chili always dress their Heads over a Bason
of Water.

I am the more particular in my Account of WILL'S last Night's Lecture
on these natural Mirrors, as it seems to bear some Relation to the
following Letter, which I received the Day before.

  SIR,

  I have read your last Saturdays Observations on the Fourth Book of
  Milton with great Satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the
  hidden Moral, which you have taken notice of in several Parts of the
  Poem. The Design of this Letter is to desire your Thoughts, whether
  there may not also be some Moral couched under that Place in the same
  Book where the Poet lets us know, that the first Woman immediately
  after her Creation ran to a Looking-Glass, and became so enamoured of
  her own Face, that she had never removed to view any of the other
  Works of Nature, had not she been led off to a Man. If you think fit
  to set down the whole Passage from Milton, your Readers will be able
  to judge for themselves, and the Quotation will not a little
  contribute to the filling up of your Paper.
  Your humble Servant,
  R. T.

The last Consideration urged by my Querist is so strong, that I cannot
forbear closing with it. The Passage he alludes to, is part of Eves
Speech to Adam, and one of the most beautiful Passages in the whole Poem.

  That Day I oft remember, when from sleep
  I first awaked, and found my self repos d
  Under a shade of flowrs, much wondering where
  And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
  Not distant far from thence a murmuring Sound
  Of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread
  Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved
  Pure as th' Expanse of Heavn: I thither went
  With unexperienced Thought, and laid me down
  On the green Bank, to look into the clear
  Smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky.
  As I bent down to look, just opposite,
  A Shape within the watry Gleam appeared
  Bending to look on me; I started back,
  It started back; but pleas'd I soon returned,
  Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering Looks
  Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fix d
  Mine Eyes till now, and pined with vain Desire,
  Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest,
  What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,
  With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
  And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays
  Thy coming, and thy soft Embraces, he
  Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy
  Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
  Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
  Mother of Human Race. What could I do,
  But follow streight, invisibly thus led?
  Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
  Under a Platan, yet methought less fair,
  Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
  Than that smooth watry Image: back I turn'd,
  Thou following crydst aloud, Return fair Eve,
  Whom flyst thou? whom thou flyst, of him thou art,
  His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being, I lent
  Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart,
  Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
  Henceforth an individual Solace dear.
  Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
  My other half!---With that thy gentle hand
  Seized mine, I yielded, and from that time see
  How Beauty is excell'd by manly Grace,
  And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
  So spake our general Mother,--

X.

No. 326.                Friday, March 14, 1712.                 Steele.

  Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea
  Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum
  Tristes exubiæ, munierant satis
  Nocturnis ab adulteris;
  Si non--

  Hor.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  Your Correspondents Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your
  subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you
  a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained
  of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.

  I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It
  is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon
  which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that
  for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moments Rest. I
  look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as
  constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a
  Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well
  secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four
  Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any
  other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a
  Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on
  constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins
  planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given
  frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of
  all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by
  reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely
  drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of
  attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common
  Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter
  from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But
  to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand
  for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill
  Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore
  desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon
  which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be
  taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that
  some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to
  bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game.
  I am, SIR,
  Your humble Servant.

  Mile-End-Green, March 6, 1711-12.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the
  Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal
  towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened
  at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let
  him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the
  Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an
  Opportunity to break his Mind.
  I am, SIR,
  Your humble Servant,
  Mary Comfitt.

  If I observe he cannot speak, Ill give him time to recover himself,
  and ask him how he does.

  Dear SIR,
  I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity
  give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear
  that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as
  monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they
  say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desir'd by the
  Mother. I have been marry'd upwards of six Years, have had four
  Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has
  put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy
  with them, would not only have handsomely defray'd the Charges of the
  Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for
  the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects
  of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and
  Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few
  of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home
  one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation,
  whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair
  of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week
  longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within
  that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily comply'd with.
  Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she
  should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the
  old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her
  Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her
  Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have
  furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of
  being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose
  upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by
  good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her
  Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought
  her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the
  Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those
  of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or
  the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be
  contented tho I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or
  Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl
  again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending twill make the
  Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her
  Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I
  have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were
  coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast
  upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to
  partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman
  to cut her off a Slice as if twere for himself, which the Fellow did;
  and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite,
  that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will
  be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if
  there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of
  Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your
  Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in
  every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father
  should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall
  impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and am
  SIR,
  Your most Obliged, and
  most Faithful Humble Servant,
  T.B.

  Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much
  as Molly does China-Ware.

T.

No. 327.              Saturday, March 15, 1712.               Addison.

  Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.

  Virg.

We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon
Eve as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity,
Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout
his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that
arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first
Part of the fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking finds Eve still asleep,
with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he
regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the
Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd
to a Lovers Ear.

  His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve
  With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,
  As through unquiet Rest: he on his side
  Leaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial Love
  Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
  Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,
  Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice
  Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
  Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake
  My Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found,
  Heavns last best Gift, my ever new Delight!
  Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field
  Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring
  Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
  What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,
  How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee
  Sits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.

  Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled Eye
  On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake:

  O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,
  My Glory, my Perfection! glad I see
  Thy Face, and Morn return'd----

I cannot but take notice that Milton, in the Conferences between Adam
and Eve, had his Eye very frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in
which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not
unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the Age
of Solomon. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding
Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like
occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.

  My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and
  come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the
  Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come,
  and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth
  forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good
  Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.

  Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early
  to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender
  Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.

His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that

 --Where the Sapient King
  Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,

shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.

Eves Dream is full of those high Conceits engendring Pride, which, we
are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is
that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by Adam in the
following beautiful Lines.

  Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant Time,
  The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields
  To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake
  Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reigns
  Full orb'd the Moon, and with more [pleasing [1]] Light
  Shadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain,
  If none regard. Heavn wakes with all his Eyes,
  Whom to behold but thee, Natures Desire,
  In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment,
  Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!

An injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk thro the whole Work in
such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the
Courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be heard by Eve in her State
of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her
Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of
her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho the Catastrophe of the
Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so
artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows
in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho the Vision it self is
founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness
and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, conformable to his
superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this
occasion.

  So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,
  But silently a gentle Tear let fall
  From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair;
  Two other precious Drops, that ready stood
  Each in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fell
  Kiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet Remorse
  And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.

The Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of one of those Psalms, where,
in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the Psalmist calls not only
upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate
Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations
of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of Gods Works, and
awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if
this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper
kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first
Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen
the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be
acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter
to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful
Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness
of that Resolution with which it concludes.

Having already mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the
Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet [gives
[2]] of Raphael. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight
through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As Milton every where
fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing,
he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it
opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through
it.

  Till at the Gate
  Of Heavn arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide,
  On golden Hinges turning, as by Work
  Divine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.

The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th
Iliad, as that in particular, where speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that
he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon
occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when
there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner.
Scaliger has rallied Homer very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier
has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether
in this particular of Homer the Marvellous does not lose sight of the
Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of Milton's Gates is not so
extraordinary as this of the Tripodes, so I am persuaded he would not
have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the
Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and
moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims,
whom they accompanied.

There is no question but Milton had this Circumstance in his Thoughts,
because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the Messiah
with living Wheels, according to the Plan in Ezekiel's Vision.

 --Forth rush'd with Whirlwind sound
  The Chariot of paternal Deity
  Flashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn,
  Itself instinct with Spirit--

I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers, who are for vindicating
every thing that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in Holy
Writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting
Vulcan's Tripodes with Ezekiel's Wheels.

Raphael's Descent to the Earth, with the Figure of his Person, is
represented in very lively Colours. Several of the French, Italian and
English Poets have given a Loose to their Imaginations in the
Description of Angels: But I do not remember to have met with any so
finely drawn, and so conformable to the Notions which are given of them
in Scripture, as this in Milton. After having set him forth in all his
Heavenly Plumage, and represented him as alighting upon the Earth, the
Poet concludes his Description with a Circumstance, which is altogether
new, and imagined with the greatest Strength of Fancy.

 --Like Maia's Son he stood,
  And shook his Plumes, that Heavnly Fragrance fill'd
  The Circuit wide.--

Raphael's Reception by the Guardian Angels; his passing through the
Wilderness of Sweets; his distant Appearance to Adam, have all the
Graces that Poetry is capable of bestowing. The Author afterwards gives
us a particular Description of Eve in her Domestick Employments

  So saying, with dispatchful Looks in haste
  She turns, on hospitable Thoughts intent,
  What Choice to chuse for Delicacy best,
  What order, so contrived, as not to mix
  Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
  Taste after Taste; upheld with kindliest Change;
  Bestirs her then, &c.--

Though in this, and other Parts of the same Book, the Subject is only
the Housewifry of our first Parent, it is set off with so many pleasing
Images and strong Expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable
Parts in this Divine Work.

The natural Majesty of Adam, and at the same time his submissive
Behaviour to the Superior Being, who had vouchsafed to be his Guest; the
solemn Hail which the Angel bestows upon the Mother of Mankind, with the
Figure of Eve ministring at the Table, are Circumstances which deserve
to be admired.

Raphael's Behaviour is every way suitable to the Dignity of his Nature,
and to that Character of a sociable Spirit, with which the Author has so
judiciously introduced him. He had received Instructions to converse
with Adam, as one Friend converses with another, and to warn him of the
Enemy, who was contriving his Destruction: Accordingly he is represented
as sitting down at Table with Adam, and eating of the Fruits of
Paradise. The Occasion naturally leads him to his Discourse on the Food
of Angels. After having thus entered into Conversation with Man upon
more indifferent Subjects, he warns him of his Obedience, and makes
natural Transition to the History of that fallen Angel, who was employ'd
in the Circumvention of our first Parents.

Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's Method in my first Paper of Milton, I
should have dated the Action of Paradise Lost from the Beginning of
Raphael's Speech in this Book, as he supposes the Action of the Æneid to
begin in the second Book of that Poem. I could allege many Reasons for
my drawing the Action of the Æneid rather from its immediate Beginning
in the first Book, than from its remote Beginning in the second; and
shew why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an Episode, according
to the common Acceptation of that Word. But as this would be a dry
unentertaining Piece of Criticism, and perhaps unnecessary to those who
have read my first Paper, I shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the
Notions be true, the Unity of Milton's Action is preserved according to
either of them; whether we consider the Fall of Man in its immediate
Beginning, as proceeding from the Resolutions taken in the infernal
Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceeding from the first
Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. The Occasion which Milton assigns for
this Revolt, as it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the Opinion
of some great Writers, so it was the most proper that the Poet could
have made use of.

The Revolt in Heaven is described with great Force of Imagination and a
fine Variety of Circumstances. The learned Reader cannot but be pleased
with the Poets Imitation of Homer in the last of the following Lines.

  At length into the Limits of the North
  They came, and Satan took his Royal Seat
  High on a Hill, far blazing, as a Mount
  Rais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Towrs
  From Diamond Quarries hewn, and Rocks of Gold,
  The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call
  That Structure in the Dialect of Men
  Interpreted)--

Homer mentions Persons and Things, which he tells us in the Language of
the Gods are call'd by different Names from those they go by in the
Language of Men. Milton has imitated him with his usual Judgment in this
particular Place, wherein he has likewise the Authority of Scripture to
justifie him. The Part of Abdiel, who was the only Spirit that in this
infinite Host of Angels preserved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits
to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The Zeal of the Seraphim
breaks forth in a becoming Warmth of Sentiments and Expressions, as the
Character which is given us of him denotes that generous Scorn and
Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. The Author doubtless designed
it as a Pattern to those who live among Mankind in their present State
of Degeneracy and Corruption.

  So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found
  Among the faithless, faithful only he;
  Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
  Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd;
  His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal:
  Nor Number, nor Example with him wrought
  To swerve from truth, or change his constant Mind,
  Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,
  Long way through [hostile] Scorn, which he sustain'd
  Superior, nor of Violence fear'd ought;
  And, with retorted Scorn, his Back he turn'd
  On those proud Towrs to swift Destruction doom'd.

L.

[Footnote 1: [pleasant]

[Footnote 2: [gives us]]

No. 328 [1]          Monday, March 17, 1712.                    Steele.

  Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.

  Petron. Arb.

That useful Part of Learning which consists in Emendation, Knowledge of
different Readings, and the like, is what in all Ages Persons extremely
wise and learned have had in great Veneration. For this reason I cannot
but rejoyce at the following Epistle, which lets us into the true Author
of the Letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the
Honour to publish in a former Paper. I must confess I do not naturally
affect critical Learning; but finding my self not so much regarded as I
am apt to flatter my self I may deserve from some professed Patrons of
Learning, I could not but do my self the Justice to shew I am not a
Stranger to such Erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly
encouraged. However this only to let the World see what I could do; and
shall not give my Reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the
Ostentation I shew at present.

  March 13, 1712.

  SIR,
  Upon reading your Paper of yesterday, [2] I took the Pains to look
  out a Copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your
  last Letter: Comparing them, I found they were the very same, and
  have, underwritten, sent you that Part of it which you say was torn
  off. I hope you will insert it, that Posterity may know twas Gabriel
  Bullock that made Love in that natural Stile of which you seem to be
  fond. But, to let you see I have other Manuscripts in the same Way, I
  have sent you Enclosed three Copies, faithfully taken by my own Hand
  from the Originals, which were writ by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good
  estate to Madam Mary, and an Uncle of hers, a Knight very well known
  by the most ancient Gentry in that and several other Counties of Great
  Britain. I have exactly followed the Form and Spelling. I have been
  credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous Comedian, is
  the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullocks great
  grandfather on the Body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark.
  But neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, taking notice of it, I will
  not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be
  reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italic.
  I am, SIR,
  Your daily Reader.

    _To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark._

    Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray
    you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to
    enjoy the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes
    when I had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Power at the
    apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more
    keep close my flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the
    more bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own
    Man, and may match where I please; for my Father is taken away; and
    now I am come to my Living, which is ten yard Land, and a House; and
    there is never a Yard Land [3] in our Field but is as well worth ten
    Pound a Year, as a Thief's worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and
    Sisters are provided for: besides I have good Household Stuff,
    though I say it, both Brass and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and
    though my House be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go
    hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well
    of this Motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new Cloaths is
    made, and Hay-Harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have good
    _Matches in our Town; but my Mother (Gods Peace be with her)
    charged me upon her Death-Bed to marry a Gentlewoman, one who had
    been well trained up in Sowing and Cookery. I do not think but that
    if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our Means together, I shall
    be made grand Jury-man e'er two or three Years come about, and that
    will be a great Credit to us. If I could have got a Messenger for
    Sixpence, I would have sent one on Purpose, and some Trifle or other
    for a Token of my Love; but I hope there is nothing lost for that
    neither. So hoping you will take this Letter in good Part, and
    answer it with what Care and Speed you can, I rest and remain,_
    Yours, if my own, MR. GABRIEL BULLOCK, now my father is dead.

    Swepston, Leicestershire.

    When the Coal Carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one
    of them my self.

    For sir William to go to london at westminster, remember a
    parlement.

    Sir William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that
    i am in troubel abbut a lady you nease; and I do desire that you
    will be my frend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was
    mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would
    not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our frends, for
    it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all.
    i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man:
    and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated
    two i beleive. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but
    her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our harts, if
    you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if
    God be willing and if you pleased, so be not angterie till you know
    the trutes of things.

    George Nelon    I give my to me lady, and to Mr. Aysenby, and to
    madam norton March, the 19th; 1706.

    This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.

    Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go
    to london, for they will put you in the nunnery; and heed not Mrs.
    Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to
    another Place, and we will gate wed so with speed, mind what i write
    to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and
    so let us gate wed, and we will both go. so if you go to london, you
    rueing your self, so heed not what none of them saith to you. let us
    gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing
    for you to my poore. i hope the devill will faile them all, for a
    hellish Company there be. from there cursed trick and mischiefus
    ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.

    I think to be at york the 24 day.

    This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that
    belongs to dishforth.

    Madam Mary, i hope you are well, i am soary that you went away from
    York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do
    remain faithful; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will
    wed you, and I will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good
    woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if
    you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will
    have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and
    with speed come: heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid
    makes you believe ought.

    So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent you 2
    or 3 letters before.

    I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the
    night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and i did gat cold.

    But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and
    round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will
    tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell.
    March 19th, 1706.

R.

[Footnote 1: This paper is No. 328 in the original issue, but Steele
omitted it from the reprint and gave in its place the paper by Addison
which here stands next to it marked with the same number, 328. The paper
of Addison's had formed no part of the original issue. Of the original
No. 328 Steele inserted a censure at the end of No. 330.]

[Footnote 2: See No. 324.]

[Footnote 3: In some counties 20, in some 24, and in others 30 acres of
Land.]

No. 328.               Monday, March 17, 1712.                  Addison.

  Nullum me a labore reclinat otium.

  Hor.

  Mr. SPECTATOR,

  As I believe this is the first Complaint that ever was made to you of
  this nature, so you are the first Person I ever could prevail upon my
  self to lay it before. When I tell you I have a healthy vigorous
  Constitution, a plentiful Estate, no inordinate Desires, and am
  married to a virtuous lovely Woman, who neither wants Wit nor
  Good-Nature, and by whom I have a numerous Offspring to perpetuate my
  Family, you will naturally conclude me a happy Man. But,
  notwithstanding these promising Appearances, I am so far from it, that
  the prospect of being ruin'd and undone, by a sort of Extravagance
  which of late Years is in a less degree crept into every fashionable
  Family, deprives me of all the Comforts of my Life, and renders me the
  most anxious miserable Man on Earth. My Wife, who was the only Child
  and darling Care of an indulgent Mother, employ'd her early Years in
  learning all those Accomplishments we generally understand by good
  Breeding and polite Education. She sings, dances, plays on the Lute
  and Harpsicord, paints prettily, is a perfect Mistress of the French
  Tongue, and has made a considerable Progress in Italian. She is
  besides excellently skill'd in all domestick Sciences, as Preserving,
  Pickling, Pastry, making Wines of Fruits of our own Growth,
  Embroydering, and Needleworks of every Kind. Hitherto you will be apt
  to think there is very little Cause of Complaint; but suspend your
  Opinion till I have further explain'd my self, and then I make no
  question you will come over to mine. You are not to imagine I find
  fault that she either possesses or takes delight in the Exercise of
  those Qualifications I just now mention'd; tis the immoderate
  Fondness she has to them that I lament, and that what is only design'd
  for the innocent Amusement and Recreation of Life, is become the whole
  Business and Study of hers. The six Months we are in Town (for the
  Year is equally divided between that and the Country) from almost
  Break of Day till Noon, the whole Morning is laid out in practising
  with her several Masters; and to make up the Losses occasion'd by her
  Absence in Summer, every Day in the Week their Attendance is requir'd;
  and as they all are People eminent in their Professions, their Skill
  and Time must be recompensed accordingly: So how far these Articles
  extend, I leave you to judge. Limning, one would think, is no
  expensive Diversion, but as she manages the Matter, tis a very
  considerable Addition to her Disbursements; Which you will easily
  believe, when you know she paints Fans for all her Female
  Acquaintance, and draws all her Relations Pictures in Miniature; the
  first must be mounted by no body but Colmar, and the other set by no
  body but Charles Mather. What follows, is still much worse than the
  former; for, as I told you, she is a great Artist at her Needle, tis
  incredible what Sums she expends in Embroidery; For besides what is
  appropriated to her personal Use, as Mantuas, Petticoats, Stomachers,
  Handkerchiefs, Purses, Pin-cushions, and Working Aprons, she keeps
  four French Protestants continually employ'd in making divers Pieces
  of superfluous Furniture, as Quilts, Toilets, Hangings for Closets,
  Beds, Window-Curtains, easy Chairs, and Tabourets: Nor have I any
  hopes of ever reclaiming her from this Extravagance, while she
  obstinately persists in thinking it a notable piece of good
  Housewifry, because they are made at home, and she has had some share
  in the Performance. There would be no end of relating to you the
  Particulars of the annual Charge, in furnishing her Store-Room with a
  Profusion of Pickles and Preserves; for she is not contented with
  having every thing, unless it be done every way, in which she consults
  an Hereditary Book of Receipts; for her female Ancestors have been
  always fam'd for good Housewifry, one of whom is made immortal, by
  giving her Name to an Eye-Water and two sorts of Puddings. I cannot
  undertake to recite all her medicinal Preparations, as Salves,
  Cerecloths, Powders, Confects, Cordials, Ratafia, Persico,
  Orange-flower, and Cherry-Brandy, together with innumerable sorts of
  Simple Waters. But there is nothing I lay so much to Heart, as that
  detestable Catalogue of counterfeit Wines, which derive their Names
  from the Fruits, Herbs, or Trees of whose Juices they are chiefly
  compounded: They are loathsome to the Taste, and pernicious to the
  Health; and as they seldom survive the Year, and then are thrown away,
  under a false Pretence of Frugality, I may affirm they stand me in
  more than if I entertain'd all our Visiters with the best Burgundy and
  Champaign. Coffee, Chocolate, Green, Imperial, Peco, and Bohea-Tea
  seem to be Trifles; but when the proper Appurtenances of the Tea-Table
  are added, they swell the Account higher than one would imagine. I
  cannot conclude without doing her Justice in one Article; where her
  Frugality is so remarkable, I must not deny her the Merit of it, and
  that is in relation to her Children, who are all confin'd, both Boys
  and Girls, to one large Room in the remotest Part of the House, with
  Bolts on the Doors and Bars to the Windows, under the Care and Tuition
  of an old Woman, who had been dry Nurse to her Grandmother. This is
  their Residence all the Year round; and as they are never allow'd to
  appear, she prudently thinks it needless to be at any Expence in
  Apparel or Learning. Her eldest Daughter to this day would have
  neither read nor writ, if it had not been for the Butler, who being
  the Son of a Country Attorney, has taught her such a Hand as is
  generally used for engrossing Bills in Chancery. By this time I have
  sufficiently tired your Patience with my domestick Grievances; which I
  hope you will agree could not well be contain'd in a narrower Compass,
  when you consider what a Paradox I undertook to maintain in the
  Beginning of my Epistle, and which manifestly appears to be but too
  melancholy a Truth. And now I heartily wish the Relation I have given
  of my Misfortunes may be of Use and Benefit to the Publick. By the
  Example I have set before them, the truly virtuous Wives may learn to
  avoid those Errors which have so unhappily mis-led mine, and which are
  visibly these three. First, in mistaking the proper Objects of her
  Esteem, and fixing her Affections upon such things as are only the
  Trappings and Decorations of her Sex. Secondly, In not distinguishing
  what becomes the different Stages of Life. And, Lastly, The Abuse and
  Corruption of some excellent Qualities, which, if circumscrib'd within
  just Bounds, would have been the Blessing and Prosperity of her
  Family, but by a vicious Extreme are like to be the Bane and
  Destruction of it.

L.

No. 329.               Tuesday, March 18, 1712.                 Addison.

  Ire tamen restat, Numa quo devenit et Ancus.

  Hor.

My friend Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY told me tother Night, that he had been
reading my Paper upon Westminster Abby, in which, says he, there are a
great many ingenious Fancies. He told me at the same time, that he
observed I had promised another Paper upon the Tombs, and that he should
be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had
read History. I could not at first imagine how this came into the
Knights Head, till I recollected that he had been very busy all last
Summer upon Bakers Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his
Disputes with Sir ANDREW FREEPORT since his last coming to Town.
Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next Morning, that we might
go together to the Abby.

I found the Knight under his Butlers Hands, who always shaves him. He
was no sooner Dressed, than he called for a Glass of the Widow Trueby's
Water, which he told me he always drank before he went abroad. He
recommended me to a Dram of it at the same time, with so much
Heartiness, that I could not forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got
it down, I found it very unpalatable; upon which the Knight observing
that I [had] made several wry Faces, told me that he knew I should not
like it at first, but that it was the best thing in the World against
the Stone or Gravel.

I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted me with the Virtues of
it sooner; but it was too late to complain, and I knew what he had done
was out of Good-will. Sir ROGER told me further, that he looked upon it
to be very good for a Man whilst he staid in Town, to keep off
Infection, and that he got together a Quantity of it upon the first News
of the Sickness being at Dautzick: When of a sudden turning short to one
of his Servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call [a [1]] Hackney
Coach, and take care it was an elderly Man that drove it.

He then resumed his Discourse upon Mrs. Trueby's Water, telling me that
the Widow Trueby was one who did more good than all the Doctors and
Apothecaries in the County: That she distilled every Poppy that grew
within five Miles of her; that she distributed her Water gratis among
all Sorts of People; to which the Knight added, that she had a very
great Jointure, and that the whole Country would fain have it a Match
between him and her; and truly, says Sir ROGER, if I had not been
engaged, perhaps I could not have done better.

His Discourse was broken off by his Man's telling him he had called a
Coach. Upon our going to it, after having cast his Eye upon the Wheels,
he asked the Coachman if his Axeltree was good; upon the Fellows
telling him he would warrant it, the Knight turned to me, told me he
looked like an honest Man, and went in without further Ceremony.

We had not gone far, when Sir ROGER popping out his Head, called the
Coach-man down from his Box, and upon his presenting himself at the
Window, asked him if he smoaked; as I was considering what this would
end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good Tobacconists, and take
in a Roll of their best Virginia. Nothing material happened in the
remaining part of our Journey, till we were set down at the Westend of
the Abby.

As we went up the Body of the Church, the Knight pointed at the Trophies
upon one of the new Monuments, and cry'd out, A brave Man, I warrant
him! Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudsly Shovel, he flung his Hand that
way, and cry'd Sir Cloudsly Shovel! a very gallant Man! As we stood
before Busby's Tomb, the Knight utter'd himself again after the same
Manner, Dr. Busby, a great Man! he whipp'd my Grandfather; a very great
Man! I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a Blockhead; a
very great Man!

We were immediately conducted into the little Chappel on the right hand.
Sir ROGER planting himself at our Historians Elbow, was very attentive
to every thing he said, particularly to the Account he gave us of the
Lord who had cut off the King of Moroccos Head. Among several other
Figures, he was very well pleased to see the Statesman Cecil upon his
Knees; and, concluding them all to be great Men, was conducted to the
Figure which represents that Martyr to good Housewifry, who died by the
prick of a Needle. Upon our Interpreters telling us, that she was a
Maid of Honour to Queen Elizabeth, the Knight was very inquisitive into
her Name and Family; and after having regarded her Finger for some time,
I wonder, says he, that Sir Richard Baker has said nothing of her in his
Chronicle.

We were then convey'd to the two Coronation-Chairs, where my old Friend,
after having heard that the Stone underneath the most ancient of them,
which was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillar, sat himself
down in the Chair; and looking like the Figure of an old Gothick King,
asked our Interpreter, What Authority they had to say, that Jacob had
ever been in Scotland? The Fellow, instead of returning him an Answer,
told him, that he hoped his Honour would pay his Forfeit. I could
observe Sir ROGER a little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our
Guide not insisting upon his Demand, the Knight soon recovered his good
Humour, and whispered in my Ear, that if WILL. WIMBLE were with us, and
saw those two Chairs, it would go hard but he would get a
Tobacco-Stopper out of one or tother of them.

Sir ROGER, in the next Place, laid his Hand upon Edward the Thirds
Sword, and leaning upon the Pummel of it, gave us the whole History of
the Black Prince; concluding, that in Sir Richard Bakers Opinion,
Edward the Third was one of the greatest Princes that ever sate upon the
English Throne.

We were then shewn Edward the Confessors Tomb; upon which Sir ROGER
acquainted us, that he was the first who touched for the Evil; and
afterwards Henry the Fourths, upon which he shook his Head, and told us
there was fine Reading in the Casualties in that Reign.

Our Conductor then pointed to that Monument where there is the Figure of
one of our English Kings without an Head; and upon giving us to know,
that the Head, which was of beaten Silver, had been stolen away several
Years since: Some Whig, Ill warrant you, says Sir ROGER; you ought to
lock up your Kings better; they will carry off the Body too, if you
don't take care.

THE glorious Names of Henry the Fifth and Queen Elizabeth gave the
Knight great Opportunities of shining, and of doing Justice to Sir
Richard Baker, who, as our Knight observed with some Surprize, had a
great many Kings in him, whose Monuments he had not seen in the Abby.

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the Knight shew such
an honest Passion for the Glory of his Country, and such a respectful
Gratitude to the Memory of its Princes.

I must not omit, that the Benevolence of my good old Friend, which flows
out towards every one he converses with, made him very kind to our
Interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary Man; for which
reason he shook him by the Hand at parting, telling him, that he should
be very glad to see him at his Lodgings in Norfolk-Buildings, and talk
over these Matters with him more at leisure.

L.

[Footnote 1:[an]]

No. 330.             Wednesday, March 19, 1712.                 Steele.

  Maxima debetur pueris reverentia.

  Juv.

The following Letters, written by two very considerate Correspondents,
both under twenty Years of Age, are very good Arguments of the Necessity
of taking into Consideration the many Incidents which affect the
Education of Youth.

  SIR,
  I have long expected, that in the Course of your Observations upon
  the several Parts of human Life, you would one time or other fall upon
  a Subject, which, since you have not, I take the liberty to recommend
  to you. What I mean, is the Patronage of young modest Men to such as
  are able to countenance and introduce them into the World. For want of
  such Assistances, a Youth of Merit languishes in Obscurity or Poverty,
  when his Circumstances are low, and runs into Riot and Excess when his
  Fortunes are plentiful. I cannot make my self better understood, than
  by sending you an History of my self, which I shall desire you to
  insert in your Paper, it being the only Way I have of expressing my
  Gratitude for the highest Obligations imaginable.

  I am the Son of a Merchant of the City of London, who, by many Losses,
  was reduced from a very luxuriant Trade and Credit to very narrow
  Circumstances, in Comparison to that his former Abundance. This took
  away the Vigour of his Mind, and all manner of Attention to a Fortune,
  which he now thought desperate; insomuch that he died without a Will,
  having before buried my Mother in the midst of his other Misfortunes.
  I was sixteen Years of Age when I lost my Father; and an Estate of
  £200 a Year came into my Possession, without Friend or Guardian to
  instruct me in the Management or Enjoyment of it. The natural
  Consequence of this was, (though I wanted no Director, and soon had
  Fellows who found me out for a smart young Gentleman, and led me into
  all the Debaucheries of which I was capable) that my Companions and I
  could not well be supplied without my running in Debt, which I did
  very frankly, till I was arrested, and conveyed with a Guard strong
  enough for the most desperate Assassine, to a Bayliff's House, where I
  lay four Days, surrounded with very merry, but not very agreeable
  Company. As soon as I had extricated my self from this shameful
  Confinement, I reflected upon it with so much Horror, that I deserted
  all my old Acquaintance, and took Chambers in an Inn of Court, with a
  Resolution to study the Law with all possible Application. But I
  trifled away a whole Year in looking over a thousand Intricacies,
  without Friend to apply to in any Case of Doubt; so that I only lived
  there among Men, as little Children are sent to School before they are
  capable of Improvement, only to be out of harms way. In the midst of
  this State of Suspence, not knowing how to dispose of my self, I was
  sought for by a Relation of mine, who, upon observing a good
  Inclination in me, used me with great Familiarity, and carried me to
  his Seat in the Country. When I came there, he introduced me to all
  the good Company in the County; and the great Obligation I have to him
  for this kind Notice and Residence with him ever since, has made so
  strong an Impression upon me, that he has an Authority of a Father
  over me, founded upon the Love of a Brother. I have a good Study of
  Books, a good Stable of Horses always at my command; and tho I am not
  now quite eighteen Years of Age, familiar Converse on his Part, and a
  strong Inclination to exert my self on mine, have had an effect upon
  me that makes me acceptable wherever I go. Thus, Mr. SPECTATOR, by
  this Gentleman's Favour and Patronage, it is my own fault if I am not
  wiser and richer every day I live. I speak this as well by subscribing
  the initial Letters of my Name to thank him, as to incite others to an
  Imitation of his Virtue. It would be a worthy Work to shew what great
  Charities are to be done without Expence, and how many noble Actions
  are lost, out of Inadvertency in Persons capable of performing them,
  if they were put in mind of it. If a Gentleman of Figure in a County
  would make his Family a Pattern of Sobriety, good Sense, and Breeding,
  and would kindly endeavour to influence the Education and growing
  Prospects of the younger Gentry about him, I am apt to believe it
  would save him a great deal of stale Beer on a publick Occasion, and
  render him the Leader of his Country from their Gratitude to him,
  instead of being a Slave to their Riots and Tumults in order to be
  made their Representative. The same thing might be recommended to all