Chapter XVI: Introduction (16)

One would think that the larger the Company is, in which we are engaged, the greater Variety of Thoughts and Subjects would be started in Discourse; but instead of this, we find that Conversation is never so much straightened and confined as in numerous Assemblies. When a Multitude meet together upon any Subject of Discourse, their Debates are taken up chiefly with Forms and general Positions; nay, if we come into a more contracted Assembly of Men and Women, the Talk generally runs upon the Weather, Fashions, News, and the like publick Topicks. In Proportion as Conversation gets into Clubs and Knots of Friends, it descends into Particulars, and grows more free and communicative: But the most open, instructive, and unreserved Discourse, is that which passes between two Persons who are familiar and intimate Friends. On these Occasions, a Man gives a Loose to every Passion and every Thought that is uppermost, discovers his most retired Opinions of Persons and Things, tries the Beauty and Strength of his Sentiments, and exposes his whole Soul to the Examination of his Friend.

_Tully_ was the first who observed, that Friendship improves Happiness and abates Misery, by the doubling of our Joy and dividing of our Grief; a Thought in which he hath been followed by all the Essayers upon Friendship, that have written since his Time. Sir _Francis Bacon_ has finely described other Advantages, or, as he calls them, Fruits of Friendship; and indeed there is no Subject of Morality which has been better handled and more exhausted than this. Among the several fine things which have been spoken of it, I shall beg leave to quote some out of a very ancient Author, whose Book would be regarded by our Modern Wits as one of the most shining Tracts of Morality that is extant, if it appeared under the Name of a _Confucius_, or of any celebrated _Grecian_ Philosopher: I mean the little Apocryphal Treatise entitled, _The Wisdom of the Son of_ Sirach. How finely has he described the Art of making Friends, by an obliging and affable Behaviour? And laid down that Precept which a late excellent Author has delivered as his own,

'That we should have many Well-wishers, but few 'Friends.'

_Sweet Language will multiply Friends; and a fair-speaking Tongue will
increase kind Greetings. Be in Peace with many, nevertheless have but
one Counsellor of a thousand_. [1]

With what Prudence does he caution us in the Choice of our Friends? And with what Strokes of Nature (I could almost say of Humour) has he described the Behaviour of a treacherous and self-interested Friend?

_If thou wouldst get a Friend, prove him first, and be not hasty to
credit him: For some Man is a Friend for his own Occasion, and will
not abide in the Day of thy Trouble. And there is a Friend, who being
turned to Enmity and Strife will discover thy Reproach_.

Again,

_Some Friend is a Companion at the Table, and will not continue in the
Day of thy Affliction: But in thy Prosperity he will be as thy self,
and will be bold over thy Servants. If thou be brought low he will be
against thee, and hide himself from thy Face._ [2]

What can be more strong and pointed than the following Verse?

_Separate thy self from thine Enemies, and take heed of thy Friends._

In the next Words he particularizes one of those Fruits of Friendship which is described at length by the two famous Authors above-mentioned, and falls into a general Elogium of Friendship, which is very just as well as very sublime.

_A faithful Friend is a strong Defence; and he that hath found such an
one, hath found a Treasure. Nothing doth countervail a faithful
Friend, and his Excellency is unvaluable. A faithful Friend is the
Medicine of Life; and they that fear the Lord shall find him. Whoso
feareth the Lord shall direct his Friendship aright; for as he is, so
shall his Neighbour_ (that is, his Friend) _be also._ [3]

I do not remember to have met with any Saying that has pleased me more than that of a Friend's being the Medicine of Life, to express the Efficacy of Friendship in healing the Pains and Anguish which naturally cleave to our Existence in this World; and am Wonderfully pleased with the Turn in the last Sentence, That a virtuous Man shall as a Blessing meet with a Friend who is as virtuous as himself. There is another Saying in the same Author, which would have been very much admired in an Heathen Writer;

_Forsake not an old Friend, for the new is not comparable to him: A
new Friend is as new Wine; When it is old thou shalt drink it with
Pleasure._ [4]

With what Strength of Allusion and Force of Thought, has he described the Breaches and Violations of Friendship?

_Whoso casteth a Stone at the Birds frayeth them away; and he that
upbraideth his Friend, breaketh Friendship. Tho' thou drawest a Sword
at a Friend yet despair not, for there may be a returning to Favour:
If thou hast opened thy Mouth against thy Friend fear not, for there
may be a Reconciliation; except for Upbraiding, or Pride, or
disclosing of Secrets, or a treacherous Wound; for, for these things
every Friend will depart._ [5]

We may observe in this and several other Precepts in this Author, those little familiar Instances and Illustrations, which are so much admired in the moral Writings of _Horace_ and _Epictetus_. There are very beautiful Instances of this Nature in the following Passages, which are likewise written upon the same Subject:

_Whoso discovereth Secrets, loseth his Credit, and shall never find a
Friend to his Mind. Love thy Friend, and be faithful unto him; but if
thou bewrayest his Secrets, follow no more after him: For as a Man
hath destroyed his Enemy, so hast thou lost the Love of thy Friend; as
one that letteth a Bird go out of his Hand, so hast thou let thy
Friend go, and shalt not get him again: Follow after him no mere, for
he is too far off; he is as a Roe escaped out of the Snare. As for a
Wound it may be bound up, and after reviling there may be
Reconciliation; but he that bewrayeth Secrets, is without Hope._ [6]

Among the several Qualifications of a good Friend, this wise Man has very justly singled out Constancy and Faithfulness as the principal: To these, others have added Virtue, Knowledge, Discretion, Equality in Age and Fortune, and as _Cicero_ calls it, _Morum Comitas_, a Pleasantness of Temper. [7] If I were to give my Opinion upon such an exhausted Subject, I should join to these other Qualifications a certain Æquability or Evenness of Behaviour. A Man often contracts a Friendship with one whom perhaps he does not find out till after a Year's Conversation; when on a sudden some latent ill Humour breaks out upon him, which he never discovered or suspected at his first entering into an Intimacy with him. There are several Persons who in some certain Periods of their Lives are inexpressibly agreeable, and in others as odious and detestable. _Martial_ has given us a very pretty Picture of one of this Species in the following Epigram:

Difficilis, facilis, jucundus, acerbus es idem,
Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te.

In all thy Humours, whether grave or mellow,
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant Fellow;
Hast so much Wit, and Mirth, and Spleen about thee,
There is no living with thee, nor without thee.

It is very unlucky for a Man to be entangled in a Friendship with one, who by these Changes and Vicissitudes of Humour is sometimes amiable and sometimes odious: And as most Men are at some Times in an admirable Frame and Disposition of Mind, it should be one of the greatest Tasks of Wisdom to keep our selves well when we are so, and never to go out of that which is the agreeable Part of our Character.

C.

[Footnote 1: Ecclesiasticus vii. 5, 6.]

[Footnote 2: Eccles. vi. 7, and following verses.]

[Footnote 3: Eccles. vi. 15-18.]

[Footnote 4: Eccles. ix. 10.]

[Footnote 5: Eccles. ix, 20-22.]

[Footnote 6: Eccles. xxvii. 16, &c.]

[Footnote 7: Cicero 'de Amicitiâ', and in the 'De Officiis' he says (Bk. II.),

'difficile dicta est, quantopere conciliet animos hominum comitas,
affabilitasque sermonia.']

* * * * *

No. 69. Saturday, May 19, 1711. Addison.

'Hic segetes, illic veniunt felicius uvæ:
Arborei foetus alibi, atque injussa virescunt
Gramina. Nonne vides, croceos ut Tmolus odores,
India mittit ebur, molles sua thura Sabæi?
At Chalybes nudi ferrum, virosaque Pontus
Castorea, Eliadum palmas Epirus equarum?
Continuo has leges æternaque foedera certis
Imposuit Natura locis ...'

Virg.

There is no Place in the Town which I so much love to frequent as the _Royal-Exchange_. It gives me a secret Satisfaction, and in some measure, gratifies my Vanity, as I am an _Englishman_, to see so rich an Assembly of Countrymen and Foreigners consulting together upon the private Business of Mankind, and making this Metropolis a kind of _Emporium_ for the whole Earth. I must confess I look upon High-Change to be a great Council, in which all considerable Nations have their Representatives. Factors in the Trading World are what Ambassadors are in the Politick World; they negotiate Affairs, conclude Treaties, and maintain a good Correspondence between those wealthy Societies of Men that are divided from one another by Seas and Oceans, or live on the different Extremities of a Continent. I have often been pleased to hear Disputes adjusted between an Inhabitant of _Japan_ and an Alderman of _London_, or to see a Subject of the _Great Mogul_ entering into a League with one of the _Czar of Muscovy_. I am infinitely delighted in mixing with these several Ministers of Commerce, as they are distinguished by their different Walks and different Languages: Sometimes I am justled among a Body of _Armenians_; Sometimes I am lost in a Crowd of _Jews_; and sometimes make one in a Groupe of _Dutchmen_. I am a _Dane_, _Swede_, or _Frenchman_ at different times; or rather fancy my self like the old Philosopher, who upon being asked what Countryman he was, replied, That he was a Citizen of the World.

Though I very frequently visit this busie Multitude of People, I am known to no Body there but my Friend, Sir ANDREW, who often smiles upon me as he sees me bustling in the Crowd, but at the same time connives at my Presence without taking any further Notice of me. There is indeed a Merchant of _Egypt_, who just knows me by sight, having formerly remitted me some Mony to _Grand Cairo_; [1] but as I am not versed in the Modern _Coptick_, our Conferences go no further than a Bow and a Grimace.

This grand Scene of Business gives me an infinite Variety of solid and substantial Entertainments. As I am a great Lover of Mankind, my Heart naturally overflows with Pleasure at the sight of a prosperous and happy Multitude, insomuch that at many publick Solemnities I cannot forbear expressing my Joy with Tears that have stolen down my Cheeks. For this Reason I am wonderfully delighted to see such a Body of Men thriving in their own private Fortunes, and at the same time promoting the Publick Stock; or in other Words, raising Estates for their own Families, by bringing into their Country whatever is wanting, and carrying out of it whatever is superfluous.

Nature seems to have taken a particular Care to disseminate her Blessings among the different Regions of the World, with an Eye to this mutual Intercourse and Traffick among Mankind, that the Natives of the several Parts of the Globe might have a kind of Dependance upon one another, and be united together by their common Interest. Almost every _Degree_ produces something peculiar to it. The Food often grows in one Country, and the Sauce in another. The Fruits of _Portugal_ are corrected by the Products of _Barbadoes:_ The Infusion of a _China_ Plant sweetned with the Pith of an _Indian_ Cane. The _Philippick_ Islands give a Flavour to our _European_ Bowls. The single Dress of a Woman of Quality is often the Product of a hundred Climates. The Muff and the Fan come together from the different Ends of the Earth. The Scarf is sent from the Torrid Zone, and the Tippet from beneath the Pole. The Brocade Petticoat rises out of the Mines of _Peru_, and the Diamond Necklace out of the Bowels of _Indostan_.

If we consider our own Country in its natural Prospect, without any of the Benefits and Advantages of Commerce, what a barren uncomfortable Spot of Earth falls to our Share! Natural Historians tell us, that no Fruit grows Originally among us, besides Hips and Haws, Acorns and Pig-Nutts, with other Delicates of the like Nature; That our Climate of itself, and without the Assistances of Art, can make no further Advances towards a Plumb than to a Sloe, and carries an Apple to no greater a Perfection than a Crab: That [our [2]] Melons, our Peaches, our Figs, our Apricots, and Cherries, are Strangers among us, imported in different Ages, and naturalized in our _English_ Gardens; and that they would all degenerate and fall away into the Trash of our own Country, if they were wholly neglected by the Planter, and left to the Mercy of our Sun and Soil. Nor has Traffick more enriched our Vegetable World, than it has improved the whole Face of Nature among us. Our Ships are laden with the Harvest of every Climate: Our Tables are stored with Spices, and Oils, and Wines: Our Rooms are filled with Pyramids of _China_, and adorned with the Workmanship of _Japan_: Our Morning's Draught comes to us from the remotest Corners of the Earth: We repair our Bodies by the Drugs of _America_, and repose ourselves under _Indian_ Canopies. My Friend Sir ANDREW calls the Vineyards of _France_ our Gardens; the Spice-Islands our Hot-beds; the _Persians_ our Silk-Weavers, and the _Chinese_ our Potters. Nature indeed furnishes us with the bare Necessaries of Life, but Traffick gives us greater Variety of what is Useful, and at the same time supplies us with every thing that is Convenient and Ornamental. Nor is it the least Part of this our Happiness, that whilst we enjoy the remotest Products of the North and South, we are free from those Extremities of Weather [which [3]] give them Birth; That our Eyes are refreshed with the green Fields of _Britain_, at the same time that our Palates are feasted with Fruits that rise between the Tropicks.

For these Reasons there are no more useful Members in a Commonwealth than Merchants. They knit Mankind together in a mutual Intercourse of good Offices, distribute the Gifts of Nature, find Work for the Poor, add Wealth to the Rich, and Magnificence to the Great. Our _English_ Merchant converts the Tin of his own Country into Gold, and exchanges his Wool for Rubies. The _Mahometans_ are clothed in our _British_ Manufacture, and the Inhabitants of the frozen Zone warmed with the Fleeces of our Sheep.

When I have been upon the _'Change_, I have often fancied one of our old Kings standing in Person, where he is represented in Effigy, and looking down upon the wealthy Concourse of People with which that Place is every Day filled. In this Case, how would he be surprized to hear all the Languages of _Europe_ spoken in this little Spot of his former Dominions, and to see so many private Men, who in his Time would have been the Vassals of some powerful Baron, negotiating like Princes for greater Sums of Mony than were formerly to be met with in the Royal Treasury! Trade, without enlarging the _British_ Territories, has given us a kind of additional Empire: It has multiplied the Number of the Rich, made our Landed Estates infinitely more Valuable than they were formerly, and added to them an Accession of other Estates as Valuable as the Lands themselves.

C.

[Footnote 1: A reference to the Spectator's voyage to Grand Cairo mentioned in No. 1.]

[Footnote 2: "these Fruits, in their present State, as well as our"]

[Footnote 3: that]

* * * * *

No. 70. Monday, May 21, 1711. Addison.

'Interdum vulgus rectum videt.'

Hor.

When I travelled, I took a particular Delight in hearing the Songs and Fables that are come from Father to Son, and are most in Vogue among the common People of the Countries through which I passed; for it is impossible that any thing should be universally tasted and approved by a Multitude, tho' they are only the Rabble of a Nation, which hath not in it some peculiar Aptness to please and gratify the Mind of Man. Human Nature is the same in all reasonable Creatures; and whatever falls in with it, will meet with Admirers amongst Readers of all Qualities and Conditions. _Molière_, as we are told by Monsieur _Boileau_, used to read all his Comedies to [an [1]] old Woman [who [2]] was his Housekeeper, as she sat with him at her Work by the Chimney-Corner; and could foretel the Success of his Play in the Theatre, from the Reception it met at his Fire-side: For he tells us the Audience always followed the old Woman, and never failed to laugh in the same Place. [3]

I know nothing which more shews the essential and inherent Perfection of Simplicity of Thought, above that which I call the Gothick Manner in Writing, than this, that the first pleases all Kinds of Palates, and the latter only such as have formed to themselves a wrong artificial Taste upon little fanciful Authors and Writers of Epigram. _Homer_, _Virgil_, or _Milton_, so far as the Language of their Poems is understood, will please a Reader of plain common Sense, who would neither relish nor comprehend an Epigram of _Martial_, or a Poem of _Cowley_: So, on the contrary, an ordinary Song or Ballad that is the Delight of the common People, cannot fail to please all such Readers as are not unqualified for the Entertainment by their Affectation or Ignorance; and the Reason is plain, because the same Paintings of Nature which recommend it to the most ordinary Reader, will appear Beautiful to the most refined.

The old Song of _Chevey Chase_ is the favourite Ballad of the common People of _England_; and _Ben Johnson_ used to say he had rather have been the Author of it than of all his Works. Sir _Philip Sidney_ in his 'Discourse of Poetry' [4] speaks of it in the following Words;

_I never heard the old Song of_ Piercy _and_ Douglas, _that I found
not my Heart more moved than with a Trumpet; and yet it is sung by
some blind Crowder with no rougher Voice than rude Stile; which being
so evil apparelled in the Dust and Cobweb of that uncivil Age, what
would it work trimmed in the gorgeous Eloquence of_ Pindar?

For my own part I am so professed an Admirer of this antiquated Song, that I shall give my Reader a Critick upon it, without any further Apology for so doing.

The greatest Modern Criticks have laid it down as a Rule, that an Heroick Poem should be founded upon some important Precept of Morality, adapted to the Constitution of the Country in which the Poet writes. _Homer_ and _Virgil_ have formed their Plans in this View. As _Greece_ was a Collection of many Governments, who suffered very much among themselves, and gave the _Persian_ Emperor, who was their common Enemy, many Advantages over them by their mutual Jealousies and Animosities, _Homer_, in order to establish among them an Union, which was so necessary for their Safety, grounds his Poem upon the Discords of the several _Grecian_ Princes who were engaged in a Confederacy against an _Asiatick_ Prince, and the several Advantages which the Enemy gained by such their Discords. At the Time the Poem we are now treating of was written, the Dissentions of the Barons, who were then so many petty Princes, ran very high, whether they quarrelled among themselves, or with their Neighbours, and produced unspeakable Calamities to the Country: [5] The Poet, to deter Men from such unnatural Contentions, describes a bloody Battle and dreadful Scene of Death, occasioned by the mutual Feuds which reigned in the Families of an _English_ and _Scotch_ Nobleman: That he designed this for the Instruction of his Poem, we may learn from his four last Lines, in which, after the Example of the modern Tragedians, he draws from it a Precept for the Benefit of his Readers.

_God save the King, and bless the Land
In Plenty, Joy, and Peace;
And grant henceforth that foul Debate
'Twixt Noblemen may cease._

The next Point observed by the greatest Heroic Poets, hath been to celebrate Persons and Actions which do Honour to their Country: Thus _Virgil's_ Hero was the Founder of _Rome_, _Homer's_ a Prince of _Greece_; and for this Reason _Valerius Flaccus_ and _Statius_, who were both _Romans_, might be justly derided for having chosen the Expedition of the _Golden Fleece_, and the _Wars of Thebes_ for the Subjects of their Epic Writings.

The Poet before us has not only found out an Hero in his own Country, but raises the Reputation of it by several beautiful Incidents. The _English_ are the first [who [6]] take the Field, and the last [who [7]] quit it. The _English_ bring only Fifteen hundred to the Battle, the _Scotch_ Two thousand. The _English_ keep the Field with Fifty three: The _Scotch_ retire with Fifty five: All the rest on each side being slain in Battle. But the most remarkable Circumstance of this kind, is the different Manner in which the _Scotch_ and _English_ Kings [receive [8]] the News of this Fight, and of the great Men's Deaths who commanded in it.

_This News was brought to_ Edinburgh,
_Where_ Scotland's _King did reign,
That brave Earl_ Douglas _suddenly
Was with an Arrow slain.

O heavy News, King James did say,_
Scotland _can Witness be,
I have not any Captain more
Of such Account as he.

Like Tydings to King_ Henry _came
Within as short a Space,
That_ Piercy _of_ Northumberland
_Was slain in_ Chevy-Chase.

_Now God be with him, said our King,
Sith 'twill no better be,
I trust I have within my Realm
Five hundred as good as he.

Yet shall not_ Scot _nor_ Scotland _say
But I will Vengeance take,
And be revenged on them all
For brave Lord_ Piercy's _Sake.

This Vow full well the King performed
After on_ Humble-down,
_In one Day fifty Knights were slain,
With Lords of great Renown.

And of the rest of small Account
Did many Thousands dye,_ &c.

At the same time that our Poet shews a laudable Partiality to his Countrymen, he represents the _Scots_ after a Manner not unbecoming so bold and brave a People.

_Earl Douglas on a milk-white Steed,
Most like a Baron bold,
Rode foremost of the Company
Whose Armour shone like Gold_.

His Sentiments and Actions are every Way suitable to an Hero. One of us two, says he, must dye: I am an Earl as well as your self, so that you can have no Pretence for refusing the Combat: However, says he, 'tis Pity, and indeed would be a Sin, that so many innocent Men should perish for our sakes, rather let you and I end our Quarrel [in single Fight. [9]]

_Ere thus I will out-braved be,
One of us two shall dye;
I know thee well, an Earl thou art,
Lord Piercy, so am I.

But trust me_, Piercy, _Pity it were,
And great Offence, to kill
Any of these our harmless Men,
For they have done no Ill.

Let thou and I the Battle try,
And set our Men aside;
Accurst be he, Lord_ Piercy _said,
By whom this is deny'd_.

When these brave Men had distinguished themselves in the Battle and a single Combat with each other, in the Midst of a generous Parly, full of heroic Sentiments, the _Scotch_ Earl falls; and with his dying Words encourages his Men to revenge his Death, representing to them, as the most bitter Circumstance of it, that his Rival saw him fall.

_With that there came an Arrow keen
Out of an_ English _Bow,
Which struck Earl_ Douglas _to the Heart
A deep and deadly Blow.

Who never spoke more Words than these,
Fight on, my merry Men all,
For why, my Life is at an End,
Lord_ Piercy sees _my Fall.

_Merry Men_, in the Language of those Times, is no more than a cheerful Word for Companions and Fellow-Soldiers. A Passage in the Eleventh Book of _Virgil's Æneid_ is very much to be admired, where _Camilla_ in her last Agonies instead of weeping over the Wound she had received, as one might have expected from a Warrior of her Sex, considers only (like the Hero of whom we are now speaking) how the Battle should be continued after her Death.

_Tum sic exspirans_, &c.

_A gathering Mist overclouds her chearful Eyes;
And from her Cheeks the rosie Colour flies.
Then turns to her, whom, of her Female Train,
She trusted most, and thus she speaks with Pain.
Acca, 'tis past! He swims before my Sight,
Inexorable Death; and claims his Right.
Bear my last Words to Turnus, fly with Speed,
And bid him timely to my Charge succeed;
Repel the Trojans, and the Town relieve:
Farewel_ ...

_Turnus_ did not die in so heroic a Manner; tho' our Poet seems to have had his Eye upon _Turnus's_ Speech in the last Verse,

_Lord Piercy sees my Fall. ... Vicisti, et victum tendere palmas Ausonii videre_ ...

Earl _Piercy's_ Lamentation over his Enemy is generous, beautiful, and passionate; I must only caution the Reader not to let the Simplicity of the Stile, which one may well pardon in so old a Poet, prejudice him against the Greatness of the Thought.

_Then leaving Life, Earl Piercy took
The dead Man by the Hand,
And said, Earl Douglas, for thy Life
Would I had lost my Land.

O Christ! my very heart doth bleed
With Sorrow for thy Sake;
For sure a more renowned Knight
Mischance did never take_.

That beautiful Line, _Taking the dead Man by the Hand_, will put the Reader in mind of _Æneas's_ Behaviour towards _Lausus_, whom he himself had slain as he came to the Rescue of his aged Father.

_At vero ut vultum vidit morientis, et ora,
Ora modis Anchisiades, pallentia miris;
Ingemuit, miserans graviter, dextramque tetendit, &c.

The pious Prince beheld young Lausus dead;
He grieved, he wept; then grasped his Hand, and said,
Poor hapless Youth! What Praises can be paid
To worth so great ..._

I shall take another Opportunity to consider the other Part of this old Song.

[Footnote 1: a little]

[Footnote 2: that]

[Footnote 3: Besides the old woman, Moliere is said to have relied on the children of the Comedians, read his pieces to them, and corrected passages at which they did not show themselves to be amused.]

[Footnote 4: 'Defence of Poesy'.]

[Footnote 5: The author of Chevy Chase was not contemporary with the dissensions of the Barons, even if the ballad of the 'Hunting of the Cheviot' was a celebration of the Battle of Otterbourne, fought in 1388, some 30 miles from Newcastle. The battle of Chevy Chase, between the Percy and the Douglas, was fought in Teviotdale, and the ballad which moved Philip Sidney's heart was written in the fifteenth century. It may have referred to a Battle of Pepperden, fought near the Cheviot Hills, between the Earl of Northumberland and Earl William Douglas of Angus, in 1436. The ballad quoted by Addison is not that of which Sidney spoke, but a version of it, written after Sidney's death, and after the best plays of Shakespeare had been written.]

[Footnote 6: that]

[Footnote 7: that]

[Footnote 8: received]

[Footnote 9: by a single Combat.]

* * * * *

No. 71. Tuesday, May 22, 1711. Steele.

'... Scribere jussit Amor.'

Ovid.

The entire Conquest of our Passions is so difficult a Work, that they who despair of it should think of a less difficult Task, and only attempt to Regulate them. But there is a third thing which may contribute not only to the Ease, but also to the Pleasure of our Life; and that is refining our Passions to a greater Elegance, than we receive them from Nature. When the Passion is Love, this Work is performed in innocent, though rude and uncultivated Minds, by the mere Force and Dignity of the Object. There are Forms which naturally create Respect in the Beholders, and at once Inflame and Chastise the Imagination. Such an Impression as this gives an immediate Ambition to deserve, in order to please. This Cause and Effect are beautifully described by Mr. _Dryden_ in the Fable of _Cymon_ and _Iphigenia_. After he has represented _Cymon_ so stupid, that

_He Whistled as he went, for want of Thought_,

he makes him fall into the following Scene, and shews its Influence upon him so excellently, that it appears as Natural as Wonderful.

_It happen'd on a Summer's Holiday,
That to the Greenwood-shade he took his Way;
His Quarter-staff, which he cou'd ne'er forsake,
Hung half before, and half behind his Back.
He trudg'd along unknowing what he sought,
And whistled as he went, for want of Thought.

By Chance conducted, or by Thirst constrain'd,
The deep recesses of the Grove he gain'd;
Where in a Plain, defended by the Wood,
Crept thro' the matted Grass a Crystal Flood,
By which an Alabaster Fountain stood:
And on the Margin of the Fount was laid,
(Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid,
Like_ Dian, _and her Nymphs, when, tir'd with Sport,
To rest by cool_ Eurotas _they resort:
The Dame herself the Goddess well expressed,
Not more distinguished by her Purple Vest,
Than by the charming Features of her Face,
And even in Slumber a superior Grace:
Her comely Limbs composed with decent Care,
Her Body shaded with a slight Cymarr;
Her Bosom to the View was only bare_:[1]

...

_The fanning Wind upon her Bosom blows,
To meet the fanning Wind the Bosom rose;
The fanning Wind and purling Streams continue her Repose.

The Fool of Nature stood with stupid Eyes
And gaping Mouth, that testify'd Surprize,
Fix'd on her Face, nor could remove his Sight,
New as he was to Love, and Novice in Delight:
Long mute he stood, and leaning on his Staff,
His Wonder witness'd with an Idiot Laugh;
Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering Sense
First found his want of Words, and fear'd Offence:
Doubted for what he was he should be known,
By his Clown-Accent, and his Country Tone_.

But lest this fine Description should be excepted against, as the Creation of that great Master, Mr. _Dryden_, and not an Account of what has really ever happened in the World; I shall give you, _verbatim_, the Epistle of an enamoured Footman in the Country to his Mistress. [2] Their Sirnames shall not be inserted, because their Passion demands a greater Respect than is due to their Quality. _James_ is Servant in a great Family, and Elizabeth waits upon the Daughter of one as numerous, some Miles off of her Lover. _James_, before he beheld _Betty_, was vain of his Strength, a rough Wrestler, and quarrelsome Cudgel-Player; _Betty_ a Publick Dancer at Maypoles, a Romp at Stool-Ball: He always following idle Women, she playing among the Peasants: He a Country Bully, she a Country Coquet. But Love has made her constantly in her Mistress's Chamber, where the young Lady gratifies a secret Passion of her own, by making _Betty_ talk of _James_; and _James_ is become a constant Waiter near his Master's Apartment, in reading, as well as he can, Romances. I cannot learn who _Molly_ is, who it seems walked Ten Mile to carry the angry Message, which gave Occasion to what follows.

To _ELIZABETH_ ...

_My Dear Betty_, May 14, 1711.

Remember your bleeding Lover,
who lies bleeding at the ...
_Where two beginning Paps were scarcely spy'd,
For yet their Places were but signify'd_.

Wounds _Cupid_ made with the Arrows he borrowed at the Eyes of _Venus_,
which is your sweet Person.

Nay more, with the Token you sent me for my Love and Service offered
to your sweet Person; which was your base Respects to my ill
Conditions; when alas! there is no ill Conditions in me, but quite
contrary; all Love and Purity, especially to your sweet Person; but
all this I take as a Jest.

But the sad and dismal News which _Molly_ brought me, struck me to the
Heart, which was, it seems, and is your ill Conditions for my Love and
Respects to you.

For she told me, if I came Forty times to you, you would not speak
with me, which Words I am sure is a great Grief to me.

Now, my Dear, if I may not be permitted to your sweet Company, and to
have the Happiness of speaking with your sweet Person, I beg the
Favour of you to accept of this my secret Mind and Thoughts, which
hath so long lodged in my Breast; the which if you do not accept, I
believe will go nigh to break my Heart.

For indeed, my Dear, I Love you above all the Beauties I ever saw in
all my Life.

The young Gentleman, and my Masters Daughter, the _Londoner_ that is
come down to marry her, sat in the Arbour most part of last Night. Oh!
dear _Betty_, must the Nightingales sing to those who marry for Mony,
and not to us true Lovers! Oh my dear _Betty_, that we could meet this
Night where we used to do in the Wood!

Now, my Dear, if I may not have the Blessing of kissing your sweet
Lips, I beg I may have the Happiness of kissing your fair Hand, with a
few Lines from your dear self, presented by whom you please or think
fit. I believe, if Time would permit me, I could write all Day; but
the Time being short, and Paper little, no more from your
never-failing Lover till Death, James ...

Poor James! Since his Time and Paper were so short; I, that have more than I can use well of both, will put the Sentiments of his kind Letter (the Stile of which seems to be confused with Scraps he had got in hearing and reading what he did not understand) into what he meant to express.

Dear Creature, Can you then neglect him who has forgot all his
Recreations and Enjoyments, to pine away his Life in thinking of you?

When I do so, you appear more amiable to me than _Venus_ does in the
most beautiful Description that ever was made of her. All this
Kindness you return with an Accusation, that I do not love you: But
the contrary is so manifest, that I cannot think you in earnest. But
the Certainty given me in your Message by _Molly_, that you do not
love me, is what robs me of all Comfort. She says you will not see me:
If you can have so much Cruelty, at least write to me, that I may kiss
the Impression made by your fair Hand. I love you above all things,
and, in my Condition, what you look upon with Indifference is to me
the most exquisite Pleasure or Pain. Our young Lady, and a fine
Gentleman from _London_, who are to marry for mercenary Ends, walk
about our Gardens, and hear the Voice of Evening Nightingales, as if
for Fashion-sake they courted those Solitudes, because they have heard
Lovers do so. Oh _Betty!_ could I hear these Rivulets murmur, and
Birds sing while you stood near me, how little sensible should I be
that we are both Servants, that there is anything on Earth above us.
Oh! I could write to you as long as I love you, till Death it self.

_JAMES_.

_N. B._ By the Words _Ill-Conditions_, James means in a Woman _Coquetry_, in a Man _Inconstancy_.

R.

[Footnote 1: The next couplet Steele omits:]

[Footnote 2: James Hirst, a servant to the Hon. Edward Wortley (who was familiar with Steele, and a close friend of Addison's), by mistake gave to his master, with a parcel of letters, one that he had himself written to his sweetheart. Mr. Wortley opened it, read it, and would not return it.

'No, James,' he said, 'you shall be a great man. This letter must
appear in the Spectator.'

And so it did. The end of the love story is that Betty died when on the point of marriage to James, who, out of love to her, married her sister.]

* * * * *

No. 72. Wednesday, May 23, 1711. Addison.

'... Genus immortale manet, multosque per annos
Stat fortuna Domus, et avi numerantur avorum.'

Virg.

Having already given my Reader an Account of several extraordinary Clubs both ancient and modern, I did not design to have troubled him with any more Narratives of this Nature; but I have lately received Information of a Club which I can call neither ancient nor modern, that I dare say will be no less surprising to my Reader than it was to my self; for which Reason I shall communicate it to the Publick as one of the greatest Curiosities in its kind.

A Friend of mine complaining of a Tradesman who is related to him, after having represented him as a very idle worthless Fellow, who neglected his Family, and spent most of his Time over a Bottle, told me, to conclude his Character, that he was a Member of the _Everlasting Club_. So very odd a Title raised my Curiosity to enquire into the Nature of a Club that had such a sounding Name; upon which my Friend gave me the following Account.

The Everlasting Club consists of a hundred Members, who divide the whole twenty four Hours among them in such a Manner, that the Club sits Day and Night from one end of the Year to [another [1]], no Party presuming to rise till they are relieved by those who are in course to succeed them. By this means a Member of the Everlasting Club never wants Company; for tho' he is not upon Duty himself, he is sure to find some [who [2]] are; so that if he be disposed to take a Whet, a Nooning, an Evening's Draught, or a Bottle after Midnight, he goes to the Club and finds a Knot of Friends to his Mind.

It is a Maxim in this Club That the Steward never dies; for as they succeed one another by way of Rotation, no Man is to quit the great Elbow-chair [which [2]] stands at the upper End of the Table, 'till his Successor is in a Readiness to fill it; insomuch that there has not been a _Sede vacante_ in the Memory of Man.

This Club was instituted towards the End (or, as some of them say, about the Middle) of the Civil Wars, and continued without Interruption till the Time of the _Great Fire_, [3] which burnt them out and dispersed them for several Weeks. The Steward at that time maintained his Post till he had like to have been blown up with a neighbouring-House, (which was demolished in order to stop the Fire;) and would not leave the Chair at last, till he had emptied all the Bottles upon the Table, and received repeated Directions from the Club to withdraw himself. This Steward is frequently talked of in the Club, and looked upon by every Member of it as a greater Man, than the famous Captain [mentioned in my Lord _Clarendon_, [who [2]] was burnt in his Ship because he would not quit it without Orders. It is said that towards the close of 1700, being the great Year of Jubilee, the Club had it under Consideration whether they should break up or continue their Session; but after many Speeches and Debates it was at length agreed to sit out the other Century. This Resolution passed in a general Club _Nemine Contradicente_.

Having given this short Account of the Institution and Continuation of the Everlasting Club, I should here endeavour to say something of the Manners and Characters of its several Members, which I shall do according to the best Lights I have received in this Matter.

It appears by their Books in general, that, since their first Institution, they have smoked fifty Tun of Tobacco; drank thirty thousand Butts of Ale, One thousand Hogsheads of Red Port, Two hundred Barrels of Brandy, and a Kilderkin of small Beer. There has been likewise a great Consumption of Cards. It is also said, that they observe the law in _Ben. Johnson's_ Club, which orders the Fire to be always kept in (_focus perennis esto_) as well for the Convenience of lighting their Pipes, as to cure the Dampness of the Club-Room. They have an old Woman in the nature of a Vestal, whose Business it is to cherish and perpetuate the Fire [which [2]] burns from Generation to Generation, and has seen the Glass-house Fires in and out above an Hundred Times.

The Everlasting Club treats all other Clubs with an Eye of Contempt, and talks even of the Kit-Cat and October as of a couple of Upstarts. Their ordinary Discourse (as much as I have been able to learn of it) turns altogether upon such Adventures as have passed in their own Assembly; of Members who have taken the Glass in their Turns for a Week together, without stirring out of their Club; of others [who [2]] have smoaked an Hundred Pipes at a Sitting; of others [who [2]] have not missed their Morning's Draught for Twenty Years together: Sometimes they speak in Raptures of a Run of Ale in King Charles's Reign; and sometimes reflect with Astonishment upon Games at Whisk, [which [2]] have been miraculously recovered by Members of the Society, when in all human Probability the Case was desperate.

They delight in several old Catches, which they sing at all Hours to encourage one another to moisten their Clay, and grow immortal by drinking; with many other edifying Exhortations of the like Nature.

There are four general Clubs held in a Year, at which Times they fill up Vacancies, appoint Waiters, confirm the old Fire-Maker or elect a new one, settle Contributions for Coals, Pipes, Tobacco, and other Necessaries.

The Senior Member has out-lived the whole Club twice over, and has been drunk with the Grandfathers of some of the present sitting Members.

C.

[Footnote 1: The other]

[Footnotes 2 (several): that]

[Footnote 3: Of London in 1666.]

* * * * *

No. 73. Thursday, May 24, 1711. Addison.

'... O Dea certé!'

Virg.

It is very strange to consider, that a Creature like Man, who is sensible of so many Weaknesses and Imperfections, should be actuated by a Love of Fame: That Vice and Ignorance, Imperfection and Misery should contend for Praise, and endeavour as much as possible to make themselves Objects of Admiration.

But notwithstanding Man's Essential Perfection is but very little, his Comparative Perfection may be very considerable. If he looks upon himself in an abstracted Light, he has not much to boast of; but if he considers himself with regard to it in others, he may find Occasion of glorying, if not in his own Virtues at least in the Absence of another's Imperfections. This gives a different Turn to the Reflections of the Wise Man and the Fool. The first endeavours to shine in himself, and the last to outshine others. The first is humbled by the Sense of his own Infirmities, the last is lifted up by the Discovery of those which he observes in other men. The Wise Man considers what he wants, and the Fool what he abounds in. The Wise Man is happy when he gains his own Approbation, and the Fool when he Recommends himself to the Applause of those about him.

But however unreasonable and absurd this Passion for Admiration may appear in such a Creature as Man, it is not wholly to be discouraged; since it often produces very good Effects, not only as it restrains him from doing any thing [which [1]] is mean and contemptible, but as it pushes him to Actions [which [1]] are great and glorious. The Principle may be defective or faulty, but the Consequences it produces are so good, that, for the Benefit of Mankind, it ought not to be extinguished.

It is observed by Cicero,[2]--that men of the greatest and the most shining Parts are the most actuated by Ambition; and if we look into the two Sexes, I believe we shall find this Principle of Action stronger in Women than in Men.

The Passion for Praise, which is so very vehement in the Fair Sex, produces excellent Effects in Women of Sense, who desire to be admired for that only which deserves Admiration:

And I think we may observe, without a Compliment to them, that many of them do not only live in a more uniform Course of Virtue, but with an infinitely greater Regard to their Honour, than what we find in the Generality of our own Sex. How many Instances have we of Chastity, Fidelity, Devotion? How many Ladies distinguish themselves by the Education of their Children, Care of their Families, and Love of their Husbands, which are the great Qualities and Atchievements of Womankind: As the making of War, the carrying on of Traffic, the Administration of Justice, are those by which Men grow famous, and get themselves a Name.

But as this Passion for Admiration, when it works according to Reason, improves the beautiful Part of our Species in every thing that is Laudable; so nothing is more Destructive to them when it is governed by Vanity and Folly. What I have therefore here to say, only regards the vain Part of the Sex, whom for certain Reasons, which the Reader will hereafter see at large, I shall distinguish by the Name of _Idols_. An _Idol_ is wholly taken up in the Adorning of her Person. You see in every Posture of her Body, Air of her Face, and Motion of her Head, that it is her Business and Employment to gain Adorers. For this Reason your _Idols_ appear in all publick Places and Assemblies, in order to seduce Men to their Worship. The Play-house is very frequently filled with _Idols_; several of them are carried in Procession every Evening about the Ring, and several of them set up their Worship even in Churches. They are to be accosted in the Language proper to the Deity. Life and Death are in their Power: Joys of Heaven and Pains of Hell are at their Disposal: Paradise is in their Arms, and Eternity in every Moment that you are present with them. Raptures, Transports, and Ecstacies are the Rewards which they confer: Sighs and Tears, Prayers and broken Hearts, are the Offerings which are paid to them. Their Smiles make Men happy; their Frowns drive them to Despair. I shall only add under this Head, that _Ovid's_ Book of the Art of Love is a kind of Heathen Ritual, which contains all the forms of Worship which are made use of to an _Idol_.

It would be as difficult a Task to reckon up these different kinds of _Idols_, as _Milton's_ was [3] to number those that were known in _Canaan_, and the Lands adjoining. Most of them are worshipped, like _Moloch_, in _Fire and Flames_. Some of them, like _Baal_, love to see their Votaries cut and slashed, and shedding their Blood for them. Some of them, like the _Idol_ in the _Apocrypha_, must have Treats and Collations prepared for them every Night. It has indeed been known, that some of them have been used by their incensed Worshippers like the _Chinese Idols_, who are Whipped and Scourged when they refuse to comply with the Prayers that are offered to them.

I must here observe, that those Idolaters who devote themselves to the _Idols_ I am here speaking of, differ very much from all other kinds of Idolaters. For as others fall out because they Worship different _Idols_, these Idolaters quarrel because they Worship the same.

The Intention therefore of the _Idol_ is quite contrary to the wishes of the Idolater; as the one desires to confine the Idol to himself, the whole Business and Ambition of the other is to multiply Adorers. This Humour of an _Idol_ is prettily described in a Tale of _Chaucer_; He represents one of them sitting at a Table with three of her Votaries about her, who are all of them courting her Favour, and paying their Adorations: She smiled upon one, drank to another, and trod upon the other's Foot which was under the Table. Now which of these three, says the old Bard, do you think was the Favourite? In troth, says he, not one of all the three. [4]

The Behaviour of this old _Idol_ in _Chaucer_, puts me in mind of the Beautiful _Clarinda_, one of the greatest _Idols_ among the Moderns. She is Worshipped once a Week by Candle-light, in the midst of a large Congregation generally called an Assembly. Some of the gayest Youths in the Nation endeavour to plant themselves in her Eye, whilst she sits in form with multitudes of Tapers burning about her. To encourage the Zeal of her Idolaters, she bestows a Mark of her Favour upon every one of them, before they go out of her Presence. She asks a Question of one, tells a Story to another, glances an Ogle upon a third, takes a Pinch of Snuff from the fourth, lets her Fan drop by accident to give the fifth an Occasion of taking it up. In short, every one goes away satisfied with his Success, and encouraged to renew his Devotions on the same Canonical Hour that Day Sevennight.

An _Idol_ may be Undeified by many accidental Causes. Marriage in particular is a kind of Counter-_Apotheosis_, or a Deification inverted. When a Man becomes familiar with his Goddess, she quickly sinks into a Woman.

Old Age is likewise a great Decayer of your _Idol_: The Truth of it is, there is not a more unhappy Being than a Superannuated _Idol_, especially when she has contracted such Airs and Behaviour as are only Graceful when her Worshippers are about her.

Considering therefore that in these and many other Cases the _Woman_ generally outlives the _Idol_, I must return to the Moral of this Paper, and desire my fair Readers to give a proper Direction to their Passion for being admired; In order to which, they must endeavour to make themselves the Objects of a reasonable and lasting Admiration. This is not to be hoped for from Beauty, or Dress, or Fashion, but from those inward Ornaments which are not to be defaced by Time or Sickness, and which appear most amiable to those who are most acquainted with them.

C.

[Footnotes 1: that]

[Footnote 2: 'Tuscul. Quæst.' Lib. v. § 243.]

[Footnote 3: 'Paradise Lost', Bk. I.]

[Footnote 4: The story is in 'The Remedy of Love' Stanzas 5--10.]

* * * * *

No. 74. Friday, May 25, 1711. Addison.

'... Pendent opera interrupta ...'

Virg.

In my last _Monday's_ Paper I gave some general Instances of those beautiful Strokes which please the Reader in the old Song of _Chevey-Chase_; I shall here, according to my Promise, be more particular, and shew that the Sentiments in that Ballad are extremely natural and poetical, and full of [the [1]] majestick Simplicity which we admire in the greatest of the ancient Poets: For which Reason I shall quote several Passages of it, in which the Thought is altogether the same with what we meet in several Passages of the _Æneid_; not that I would infer from thence, that the Poet (whoever he was) proposed to himself any Imitation of those Passages, but that he was directed to them in general by the same Kind of Poetical Genius, and by the same Copyings after Nature.

Had this old Song been filled with Epigrammatical Turns and Points of Wit, it might perhaps have pleased the wrong Taste of some Readers; but it would never have become the Delight of the common People, nor have warmed the Heart of Sir _Philip Sidney_ like the Sound of a Trumpet; it is only Nature that can have this Effect, and please those Tastes which are the most unprejudiced or the most refined. I must however beg leave to dissent from so great an Authority as that of Sir _Philip Sidney_, in the Judgment which he has passed as to the rude Stile and evil Apparel of this antiquated Song; for there are several Parts in it where not only the Thought but the Language is majestick, and the Numbers [sonorous; [2]] at least, the _Apparel_ is much more _gorgeous_ than many of the Poets made use of in Queen _Elizabeth's_ Time, as the Reader will see in several of the following Quotations.

What can be greater than either the Thought or the Expression in that Stanza,

_To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn
Earl_ Piercy _took his Way;
The Child may rue that was unborn
The Hunting of that Day!_