Chapter XX: Introduction (20)

I may reckon the Ladies themselves as a third Class among these my Correspondents and Privy-Counsellors. In a Letter from one of them, I am advised to place _Pharamond_ at the Head of my Catalogue, and, if I think proper, to give the second place to _Cassandra_. _Coquetilla_ begs me not to think of nailing Women upon their Knees with Manuals of Devotion, nor of scorching their Faces with Books of Housewifry. _Florella_ desires to know if there are any Books written against Prudes, and intreats me, if there are, to give them a Place in my Library. Plays of all Sorts have their several Advocates: _All for Love_ is mentioned in above fifteen Letters; _Sophonisba_, or _Hannibal's Overthrow_, in a Dozen; _The Innocent Adultery_ is likewise highly approved of; _Mithridates King of Pontus_ has many Friends; _Alexander the Great_ and _Aurengzebe_ have the same Number of Voices; but _Theodosius_, or _The Force of Love_. carries it from all the rest. [2]

I should, in the last Place, mention such Books as have been proposed by Men of Learning, and those who appear competent Judges of this Matter; and must here take Occasion to thank _A. B_. whoever it is that conceals himself under those two Letters, for his Advice upon this Subject: But as I find the Work I have undertaken to be very difficult, I shall defer the executing of it till I am further acquainted with the Thoughts of my judicious Contemporaries, and have time to examine the several Books they offer to me; being resolved, in an Affair of this Moment, to proceed with the greatest Caution.

In the mean while, as I have taken the Ladies under my particular Care, I shall make it my Business to find out in the best Authors ancient and modern such Passages as may be for their use, and endeavour to accommodate them as well as I can to their Taste; not questioning but the valuable Part of the Sex will easily pardon me, if from Time to Time I laugh at those little Vanities and Follies which appear in the Behaviour of some of them, and which are more proper for Ridicule than a serious Censure. Most Books being calculated for Male Readers, and generally written with an Eye to Men of Learning, makes a Work of this Nature the more necessary; besides, I am the more encouraged, because I flatter myself that I see the Sex daily improving by these my Speculations. My fair Readers are already deeper Scholars than the Beaus. I could name some of them who could talk much better than several Gentlemen that make a Figure at _Will's_; and as I frequently receive Letters from the _fine Ladies_ and _pretty Fellows_, I cannot but observe that the former are superior to the others not only in the Sense but in the Spelling. This cannot but have a good Effect upon the Female World, and keep them from being charmed by those empty Coxcombs that have hitherto been admired among the Women, tho' laugh'd at among the Men.

I am credibly informed that _Tom Tattle_ passes for an impertinent Fellow, that _Will Trippet_ begins to be smoaked, and that _Frank Smoothly_ himself is within a Month of a Coxcomb, in case I think fit to continue this Paper. For my part, as it is my Business in some measure to detect such as would lead astray weak Minds by their false Pretences to Wit and Judgment, Humour and Gallantry, I shall not fail to lend the best Lights I am able to the fair Sex for the Continuation of these their Discoveries.

[Footnote 1: By Mrs. Perry, whose sister, Miss Shepheard, has letters in two later numbers, 140 and 163. These ladies were descended from Sir Fleetwood Shepheard.]

[Footnote 2: Michael Dalton's 'Country Justice' was first published in 1618. Joseph Mede's 'Clavis Apocalyptica,' published in 1627, and translated by Richard More in 1643, was as popular in the Pulpit as 'The Country Justice' on the Bench. The negotiations of Count d'Estrades were from 1637 to 1662. The translation of Bayle's Dictionary had been published by Tonson in 1610. Dr. William Wall's 'History of Infant Baptism,' published in 1705, was in its third edition. 'Aurungzebe' was by Dryden. 'Mithridates' and 'Theodosius' were by Lee.]

* * * * *

No. 93. Saturday, June 16, 1711. Addison.

'... Spatio brevi
Spem longam reseces: dum loquimur, fugerit Invida
Ætas: carpe Diem, quam minimum credula postero.'

Hor.

We all of us complain of the Shortness of Time, saith _Seneca_ [1] and yet have much more than we know what to do with. Our Lives, says he, are spent either in doing nothing at all, or in doing nothing to the Purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do: We are always complaining our Days are few, and acting as though there would be no End of them. That noble Philosopher has described our Inconsistency with our selves in this Particular, by all those various Turns of Expression and Thought which are peculiar to his Writings.

I often consider Mankind as wholly inconsistent with itself in a Point that bears some Affinity to the former. Though we seem grieved at the Shortness of Life in general, we are wishing every Period of it at an end. The Minor longs to be at Age, then to be a Man of Business, then to make up an Estate, then to arrive at Honours, then to retire. Thus although the whole of Life is allowed by every one to be short, the several Divisions of it appear long and tedious. We are for lengthening our Span in general, but would fain contract the Parts of which it is composed. The Usurer would be very well satisfied to have all the Time annihilated that lies between the present Moment and next Quarter-day. The Politician would be contented to lose three Years in his Life, could he place things in the Posture which he fancies they will stand in after such a Revolution of Time. The Lover would be glad to strike out of his Existence all the Moments that are to pass away before the happy Meeting. Thus, as fast as our Time runs, we should be very glad in most Parts of our Lives that it ran much faster than it does. Several Hours of the Day hang upon our Hands, nay we wish away whole Years: and travel through Time as through a Country filled with many wild and empty Wastes, which we would fain hurry over, that we may arrive at those several little Settlements or imaginary Points of Rest which are dispersed up and down in it.

If we divide the Life of most Men into twenty Parts, we shall find that at least nineteen of them are meer Gaps and Chasms, which are neither filled with Pleasure nor Business. I do not however include in this Calculation the Life of those Men who are in a perpetual Hurry of Affairs, but of those only who are not always engaged in Scenes of Action; and I hope I shall not do an unacceptable Piece of Service to these Persons, if I point out to them certain Methods for the filling up their empty Spaces of Life. The Methods I shall propose to them are as follow.

The first is the Exercise of Virtue, in the most general Acceptation of the Word. That particular Scheme which comprehends the Social Virtues, may give Employment to the most industrious Temper, and find a Man in Business more than the most active Station of Life. To advise the Ignorant, relieve the Needy, comfort the Afflicted, are Duties that fall in our way almost every Day of our Lives. A Man has frequent Opportunities of mitigating the Fierceness of a Party; of doing Justice to the Character of a deserving Man; of softning the Envious, quieting the Angry, and rectifying the Prejudiced; which are all of them Employments suited to a reasonable Nature, and bring great Satisfaction to the Person who can busy himself in them with Discretion.

There is another kind of Virtue that may find Employment for those Retired Hours in which we are altogether left to our selves, and destitute of Company and Conversation; I mean that Intercourse and Communication which every reasonable Creature ought to maintain with the great Author of his Being. The Man who lives under an habitual Sense of the Divine Presence keeps up a perpetual Chearfulness of Temper, and enjoys every Moment the Satisfaction of thinking himself in Company with his dearest and best of Friends. The Time never lies heavy upon him: It is impossible for him to be alone. His Thoughts and Passions are the most busied at such Hours when those of other Men are the most unactive: He no sooner steps out of the World but his Heart burns with Devotion, swells with Hope, and triumphs in the Consciousness of that Presence which every where surrounds him; or, on the contrary, pours out its Fears, its Sorrows, its Apprehensions, to the great Supporter of its Existence.

I have here only considered the Necessity of a Man's being Virtuous, that he may have something to do; but if we consider further, that the Exercise of Virtue is not only an Amusement for the time it lasts, but that its Influence extends to those Parts of our Existence which lie beyond the Grave, and that our whole Eternity is to take its Colour from those Hours which we here employ in Virtue or in Vice, the Argument redoubles upon us, for putting in Practice this Method of passing away our Time.

When a Man has but a little Stock to improve, and has opportunities of turning it all to good Account, what shall we think of him if he suffers nineteen Parts of it to lie dead, and perhaps employs even the twentieth to his Ruin or Disadvantage? But because the Mind cannot be always in its Fervours, nor strained up to a Pitch of Virtue, it is necessary to find out proper Employments for it in its Relaxations.

The next Method therefore that I would propose to fill up our Time, should be useful and innocent Diversions. I must confess I think it is below reasonable Creatures to be altogether conversant in such Diversions as are meerly innocent, and have nothing else to recommend them, but that there is no Hurt in them. Whether any kind of Gaming has even thus much to say for it self, I shall not determine; but I think it is very wonderful to see Persons of the best Sense passing away a dozen Hours together in shuffling and dividing a Pack of Cards, with no other Conversation but what is made up of a few Game Phrases, and no other Ideas but those of black or red Spots ranged together in different Figures. Would not a man laugh to hear any one of this Species complaining that Life is short.

The _Stage_ might be made a perpetual Source of the most noble and useful Entertainments, were it under proper Regulations.

But the Mind never unbends itself so agreeably as in the Conversation of a well chosen Friend. There is indeed no Blessing of Life that is any way comparable to the Enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous Friend. It eases and unloads the Mind, clears and improves the Understanding, engenders Thoughts and Knowledge, animates Virtue and good Resolution, sooths and allays the Passions, and finds Employment for most of the vacant Hours of Life.

Next to such an Intimacy with a particular Person, one would endeavour after a more general Conversation with such as are able to entertain and improve those with whom they converse, which are Qualifications that seldom go asunder.

There are many other useful Amusements of Life, which one would endeavour to multiply, that one might on all Occasions have Recourse to something rather than suffer the mind to lie idle, or run adrift with any Passion that chances to rise in it.

A Man that has a Taste of Musick, Painting, or Architecture, is like one that has another Sense when compared with such as have no Relish of those Arts. The Florist, the Planter, the Gardiner, the Husbandman, when they are only as Accomplishments to the Man of Fortune, are great Reliefs to a Country Life, and many ways useful to those who are possessed of them.

But of all the Diversions of Life, there is none so proper to fill up its empty Spaces as the reading of useful and entertaining Authors. But this I shall only touch upon, because it in some Measure interferes with the third Method, which I shall propose in another Paper, for the Employment of our dead unactive Hours, and which I shall only mention in general to be the Pursuit of Knowledge.

[Footnote 1: Epist. 49, and in his De Brevitate Vita.]

* * * * *

No. 94 Monday, June 18, 1711 Addison.

'... Hoc est
Vivere bis, vita posse priore frui.'

Mart.

The last Method which I proposed in my _Saturday's Paper_, for filling up those empty Spaces of Life which are so tedious and burdensome to idle People, is the employing ourselves in the Pursuit of Knowledge. I remember _Mr. Boyle_ [1] speaking of a certain Mineral, tells us, That a Man may consume his whole Life in the Study of it, without arriving at the Knowledge of all its Qualities. The Truth of it is, there is not a single Science, or any Branch of it, that might not furnish a Man with Business for Life, though it were much longer than it is.

I shall not here engage on those beaten Subjects of the Usefulness of Knowledge, nor of the Pleasure and Perfection it gives the Mind, nor on the Methods of attaining it, nor recommend any particular Branch of it, all which have been the Topicks of many other Writers; but shall indulge my self in a Speculation that is more uncommon, and may therefore perhaps be more entertaining.

I have before shewn how the unemployed Parts of Life appear long and tedious, and shall here endeavour to shew how those Parts of Life which are exercised in Study, Reading, and the Pursuits of Knowledge, are long but not tedious, and by that means discover a Method of lengthening our Lives, and at the same time of turning all the Parts of them to our Advantage.

Mr. _Lock_ observes, [2]

'That we get the Idea of Time, or Duration, by reflecting on that
Train of Ideas which succeed one another in our Minds: That for this
Reason, when we sleep soundly without dreaming, we have no Perception
of Time, or the Length of it whilst we sleep; and that the Moment
wherein we leave off to think, till the Moment we begin to think
again, seems to have no distance.'

To which the Author adds,

'And so I doubt not but it would be to a waking Man, if it were
possible for him to keep only one _Idea_ in his Mind, without
Variation, and the Succession of others: And we see, that one who
fixes his Thoughts very intently on one thing, so as to take but
little notice of the Succession of _Ideas_ that pass in his Mind
whilst he is taken up with that earnest Contemplation, lets slip out
of his Account a good Part of that Duration, and thinks that Time
shorter than it is.'

We might carry this Thought further, and consider a Man as, on one Side, shortening his Time by thinking on nothing, or but a few things; so, on the other, as lengthening it, by employing his Thoughts on many Subjects, or by entertaining a quick and constant Succession of Ideas. Accordingly Monsieur _Mallebranche_, in his _Enquiry after Truth_, [3] (which was published several Years before Mr. _Lock's Essay on Human Understanding_) tells us, That it is possible some Creatures may think Half an Hour as long as we do a thousand Years; or look upon that Space of Duration which we call a Minute, as an Hour, a Week, a Month, or an whole Age.

This Notion of Monsieur _Mallebranche_ is capable of some little Explanation from what I have quoted out of Mr. _Lock_; for if our Notion of Time is produced by our reflecting on the Succession of Ideas in our Mind, and this Succession may be infinitely accelerated or retarded, it will follow, that different Beings may have different Notions of the same Parts of Duration, according as their Ideas, which we suppose are equally distinct in each of them, follow one another in a greater or less Degree of Rapidity.

There is a famous Passage in the _Alcoran_, which looks as if _Mahomet_ had been possessed of the Notion we are now speaking of. It is there said, [4] That the Angel _Gabriel_ took _Mahomet_ Out of his Bed one Morning to give him a Sight of all things in the Seven Heavens, in Paradise, and in Hell, which the Prophet took a distinct View of; and after having held ninety thousand Conferences with God, was brought back again to his Bed. All this, says the _Alcoran_, was transacted in so small a space of Time, that _Mahomet_ at his Return found his Bed still warm, and took up an Earthen Pitcher, (which was thrown down at the very Instant that the Angel _Gabriel_ carried him away) before the Water was all spilt.

There is a very pretty Story in the _Turkish_ Tales which relates to this Passage of that famous Impostor, and bears some Affinity to the Subject we are now upon. A Sultan of _Egypt_, who was an Infidel, used to laugh at this Circumstance in _Mahomet's_ Life, as what was altogether impossible and absurd: But conversing one Day with a great Doctor in the Law, who had the Gift of working Miracles, the Doctor told him he would quickly convince him of the Truth of this Passage in the History of Mahomet, if he would consent to do what he should desire of him. Upon this the Sultan was directed to place himself by an huge Tub of Water, which he did accordingly; and as he stood by the Tub amidst a Circle of his great Men, the holy Man bid him plunge his Head into the Water, and draw it up again: The King accordingly thrust his Head into the Water, and at the same time found himself at the Foot of a Mountain on a Sea-shore. The King immediately began to rage against his Doctor for this Piece of Treachery and Witchcraft; but at length, knowing it was in vain to be angry, he set himself to think on proper Methods for getting a Livelihood in this strange Country: Accordingly he applied himself to some People whom he saw at work in a Neighbouring Wood: these People conducted him to a Town that stood at a little Distance from the Wood, where, after some Adventures, he married a Woman of great Beauty and Fortune. He lived with this Woman so long till he had by her seven Sons and seven Daughters: He was afterwards reduced to great Want, and forced to think of plying in the Streets as a Porter for his Livelihood. One Day as he was walking alone by the Sea-side, being seized with many melancholy Reflections upon his former and his present State of Life, which had raised a Fit of Devotion in him, he threw off his Clothes with a Design to wash himself, according to the Custom of the _Mahometans_, before he said his Prayers.

After his first Plunge into the Sea, he no sooner raised his Head above the Water but he found himself standing by the Side of the Tub, with the great Men of his Court about him, and the holy Man at his Side. He immediately upbraided his Teacher for having sent him on such a Course of Adventures, and betrayed him into so long a State of Misery and Servitude; but was wonderfully surprised when he heard that the State he talked of was only a Dream and Delusion; that he had not stirred from the Place where he then stood; and that he had only dipped his Head into the Water, and immediately taken it out again.

The _Mahometan_ Doctor took this Occasion of instructing the Sultan, that nothing was impossible with God; and that _He_, with whom a Thousand Years are but as one Day, can, if he pleases, make a single Day, nay a single Moment, appear to any of his Creatures as a Thousand Years.

I shall leave my Reader to compare these Eastern Fables with the Notions of those two great Philosophers whom I have quoted in this Paper; and shall only, by way of Application, desire him to consider how we may extend Life beyond its natural Dimensions, by applying our selves diligently to the Pursuits of Knowledge.

The Hours of a wise Man are lengthened by his Ideas, as those of a Fool are by his Passions: The Time of the one is long, because he does not know what to do with it; so is that of the other, because he distinguishes every Moment of it with useful or amusing Thought; or in other Words, because the one is always wishing it away, and the other always enjoying it.

How different is the View of past Life, in the Man who is grown old in Knowledge and Wisdom, from that of him who is grown old in Ignorance and Folly? The latter is like the Owner of a barren Country that fills his Eye with the Prospect of naked Hills and Plains, which produce nothing either profitable or ornamental; the other beholds a beautiful and spacious Landskip divided into delightful Gardens, green Meadows, fruitful Fields, and can scarce cast his Eye on a single Spot of his Possessions, that is not covered with some beautiful Plant or Flower.

L.

[Footnote 1: Not of himself, but in 'The Usefulness of Natural Philosophy' ('Works', ed. 1772, vol. ii. p. 11), Boyle quotes from the old Alchemist, Basil Valentine, who said in his 'Currus Trimnphalis Antimonii'

'That the shortness of life makes it impossible for one man thoroughly
to learn Antimony, in which every day something of new is
discovered.']

[Footnote 2: 'Essay on the Human Understanding', Bk II. ch. 14.]

[Footnote 3: Two English Translations of Malebranche's 'Search after Truth' were published in 1694, one by T. Taylor of Magdalen College, Oxford. Malebranche sets out with the argument that man has no innate perception of Duration.]

[Footnote 4: The Night Journey of Mahomet gives its Title to the 17th Sura of the Koran, which assumes the believer's knowledge of the Visions of Gabriel seen at the outset of the prophet's career, when he was carried by night from Mecca to Jerusalem and thence through the seven heavens to the throne of God on the back of Borak, accompanied by Gabriel according to some traditions, and according to some in a vision. Details of the origin of this story will be found in Muir, ii. 219, Nöld, p. 102. Addison took it from the 'Turkish Tales.']

* * * * *

No 95. Tuesday, June 19, 1711. Steele.

Curæ Leves loquuntur, Ingentes Stupent. [1]

Having read the two following Letters with much Pleasure, I cannot but think the good Sense of them will be as agreeable to the Town as any thing I could say either on the Topicks they treat of, or any other. They both allude to former Papers of mine, and I do not question but the first, which is upon inward Mourning, will be thought the Production of a Man who is well acquainted with the generous Earnings of Distress in a manly Temper, which is above the Relief of Tears. A Speculation of my own on that Subject I shall defer till another Occasion.

The second Letter is from a Lady of a Mind as great as her Understanding. There is perhaps something in the Beginning of it which I ought in Modesty to conceal; but I have so much Esteem for this Correspondent, that I will not alter a Tittle of what she writes, tho' I am thus scrupulous at the Price of being Ridiculous.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'I was very well pleased with your Discourse upon General Mourning,
and should be obliged to you if you would enter into the Matter more
deeply, and give us your Thoughts upon the common Sense the ordinary
People have of the Demonstrations of Grief, who prescribe Rules and
Fashions to the most solemn Affliction; such as the Loss of the
nearest Relations and dearest Friends. You cannot go to visit a sick
Friend, but some impertinent Waiter about him observes the Muscles of
your Face, as strictly as if they were Prognosticks of his Death or
Recovery. If he happens to be taken from you, you are immediately
surrounded with Numbers of these Spectators, who expect a melancholy
Shrug of your Shoulders, a Pathetical shake of your Head, and an
Expressive Distortion of your Face, to measure your Affection and
Value for the Deceased: But there is nothing, on these Occasions, so
much in their Favour as immoderate Weeping. As all their passions are
superficial, they imagine the Seat of Love and Friendship to be placed
visibly in the Eyes: They judge what Stock of Kindness you had for the
Living, by the Quantity of Tears you pour out for the Dead; so that if
one Body wants that Quantity of Salt-water another abounds with, he is
in great Danger of being thought insensible or ill-natured: They are
Strangers to Friendship, whose Grief happens not to be moist enough to
wet such a Parcel of Handkerchiefs. But Experience has told us,
nothing is so fallacious as this outward Sign of Sorrow; and the
natural History of our Bodies will teach us that this Flux of the
Eyes, this Faculty of Weeping, is peculiar only to some Constitutions.
We observe in the tender Bodies of Children, when crossed in their
little Wills and Expectations, how dissolvable they are into Tears. If
this were what Grief is in Men, Nature would not be able to support
them in the Excess of it for one Moment. Add to this Observation, how
quick is their Transition from this Passion to that of their Joy. I
won't say we see often, in the next tender Things to Children, Tears
shed without much Grieving. Thus it is common to shed Tears without
much Sorrow, and as common to suffer much Sorrow without shedding
Tears. Grief and Weeping are indeed frequent Companions, but, I
believe, never in their highest Excesses. As Laughter does not proceed
from profound Joy, so neither does Weeping from profound Sorrow. The
Sorrow which appears so easily at the Eyes, cannot have pierced deeply
into the Heart. The Heart distended with Grief, stops all the Passages
for Tears or Lamentations.

'Now, Sir, what I would incline you to in all this, is, that you would
inform the shallow Criticks and Observers upon Sorrow, that true
Affliction labours to be invisible, that it is a Stranger to Ceremony,
and that it bears in its own Nature a Dignity much above the little
Circumstances which are affected under the Notion of Decency. You must
know, Sir, I have lately lost a dear Friend, for whom I have not yet
shed a Tear, and for that Reason your Animadversions on that Subject
would be the more acceptable to',
SIR,
_Your most humble Servant_,
B.D.

June _the_ 15_th_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'As I hope there are but few who have so little Gratitude as not to
acknowledge the Usefulness of your Pen, and to esteem it a Publick
Benefit; so I am sensible, be that as it will, you must nevertheless
find the Secret and Incomparable Pleasure of doing Good, and be a
great Sharer in the Entertainment you give. I acknowledge our Sex to
be much obliged, and I hope improved, by your Labours, and even your
Intentions more particularly for our Service. If it be true, as 'tis
sometimes said, that our Sex have an Influence on the other, your
Paper may be a yet more general Good. Your directing us to Reading is
certainly the best Means to our Instruction; but I think, with you,
Caution in that Particular very useful, since the Improvement of our
Understandings may, or may not, be of Service to us, according as it
is managed. It has been thought we are not generally so Ignorant as
Ill-taught, or that our Sex does so often want Wit, Judgment, or
Knowledge, as the right Application of them: You are so well-bred, as
to say your fair Readers are already deeper Scholars than the Beaus,
and that you could name some of them that talk much better than
several Gentlemen that make a Figure at _Will's_: This may possibly
be, and no great Compliment, in my Opinion, even supposing your
Comparison to reach _Tom's_ and the _Grecian_: Surely you are too wise
to think That a Real Commendation of a Woman. Were it not rather to be
wished we improved in our own Sphere, and approved our selves better
Daughters, Wives, Mothers, and Friends?

I can't but agree with the Judicious Trader in _Cheapside_ (though I
am not at all prejudiced in his Favour) in recommending the Study of
Arithmetick; and must dissent even from the Authority which you
mention, when it advises the making our Sex Scholars. Indeed a little
more Philosophy, in order to the Subduing our Passions to our Reason,
might be sometimes serviceable, and a Treatise of that Nature I should
approve of, even in exchange for _Theodosius_, or _The Force of Love_;
but as I well know you want not Hints, I will proceed no further than
to recommend the Bishop of _Cambray's Education of a Daughter, as 'tis
translated into the only Language I have any Knowledge of, [2] tho'
perhaps very much to its Disadvantage. I have heard it objected
against that Piece, that its Instructions are not of general Use, but
only fitted for a great Lady; but I confess I am not of that Opinion;
for I don't remember that there are any Rules laid down for the
Expences of a Woman, in which Particular only I think a Gentlewoman
ought to differ from a Lady of the best Fortune, or highest Quality,
and not in their Principles of Justice, Gratitude, Sincerity,
Prudence, or Modesty. I ought perhaps to make an Apology for this long
Epistle; but as I rather believe you a Friend to Sincerity, than
Ceremony, shall only assure you I am,
T. SIR,
_Your most humble Servant_,
Annabella.

[Footnote 1: Seneca, Citation omitted also in the early reprints.]

[Footnote 2: Fenelon was then living. He died in 1715, aged 63.]

* * * * *

No. 96 Wednesday, June 20, 1711. Steele.

... Amicum
Mancipium domino, et frugi ...

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I have frequently read your Discourse upon Servants, and, as I am one
my self, have been much offended that in that Variety of Forms wherein
you considered the Bad, you found no Place to mention the Good. There
is however one Observation of yours I approve, which is, That there
are Men of Wit and good Sense among all Orders of Men; and that
Servants report most of the Good or Ill which is spoken of their
Masters. That there are Men of Sense who live in Servitude, I have the
Vanity to say I have felt to my woful Experience. You attribute very
justly the Source of our general Iniquity to Board-Wages, and the
Manner of living out of a domestick Way: But I cannot give you my
Thoughts on this Subject any way so well, as by a short account of my
own Life to this the Forty fifth Year of my Age; that is to say, from
my being first a Foot-boy at Fourteen, to my present Station of a
Nobleman's Porter in the Year of my Age above-mentioned. Know then,
that my Father was a poor Tenant to the Family of Sir _Stephen
Rackrent:_ Sir _Stephen_ put me to School, or rather made me follow
his Son _Harry_ to School, from my Ninth Year; and there, tho' Sir
_Stephen_ paid something for my Learning, I was used like a Servant,
and was forced to get what Scraps of Learning I could by my own
Industry, for the Schoolmaster took very little Notice of me. My young
Master was a Lad of very sprightly Parts; and my being constantly
about him, and loving him, was no small Advantage to me. My Master
loved me extreamly, and has often been whipped for not keeping me at a
Distance. He used always to say, That when he came to his Estate I
should have a Lease of my Father's Tenement for nothing. I came up to
Town with him to _Westminster_ School; at which time he taught me at
Night all he learnt; and put me to find out Words in the Dictionary
when he was about his Exercise. It was the Will of Providence that
Master _Harry_ was taken very ill of a Fever, of which he died within
Ten Days after his first falling sick. Here was the first Sorrow I
ever knew; and I assure you, Mr. SPECTATOR, I remember the beautiful
Action of the sweet Youth in his Fever, as fresh as if it were
Yesterday. If he wanted any thing, it must be given him by _Tom:_ When
I let any thing fall through the Grief I was under, he would cry, Do
not beat the poor Boy: Give him some more Julep for me, no Body else
shall give it me. He would strive to hide his being so bad, when he
saw I could not bear his being in so much Danger, and comforted me,
saying, _Tom, Tom,_ have a good Heart. When I was holding a Cup at his
Mouth, he fell into Convulsions; and at this very Time I hear my dear
Master's last Groan. I was quickly turned out of the Room, and left to
sob and beat my Head against the Wall at my Leisure. The Grief I was
in was inexpressible; and every Body thought it would have cost me my
Life. In a few Days my old Lady, who was one of the Housewives of the
World, thought of turning me out of Doors, because I put her in mind
of her Son. Sir _Stephen_ proposed putting me to Prentice; but my
Lady being an excellent Manager, would not let her Husband throw away
his Money in Acts of Charity. I had sense enough to be under the
utmost Indignation, to see her discard with so little Concern, one her
Son had loved so much; and went out of the House to ramble wherever my
Feet would carry me.

The third Day after I left Sir _Stephen's_ Family, I was strolling up
and down the Walks in the _Temple_. A young Gentleman of the House,
who (as I heard him say afterwards) seeing me half-starved and
well-dressed, thought me an Equipage ready to his Hand, after very
little Inquiry more than _Did I want a Master?,_ bid me follow him;
I did so, and in a very little while thought myself the happiest
Creature in this World. My Time was taken up in carrying Letters to
Wenches, or Messages to young Ladies of my Master's Acquaintance. We
rambled from Tavern to Tavern, to the Play-house, the
Mulberry-Garden,[1] and all places of Resort; where my Master engaged
every Night in some new Amour, in which and Drinking he spent all his
Time when he had Money. During these Extravagancies I had the Pleasure
of lying on the Stairs of a Tavern half a Night, playing at Dice with
other Servants, and the like Idleness. When my Master was moneyless,
I was generally employ'd in transcribing amorous Pieces of Poetry, old
Songs, and new Lampoons. This Life held till my Master married, and he
had then the Prudence to turn me off, because I was in the Secret of
his Intreagues.

I was utterly at a loss what Course to take next; when at last I
applied my self to a Fellow-sufferer, one of his Mistresses, a Woman
of the Town. She happening at that time to be pretty full of Money,
cloathed me from Head to Foot, and knowing me to be a sharp Fellow,
employed me accordingly. Sometimes I was to go abroad with her, and
when she had pitched upon a young Fellow she thought for her Turn, I
was to be dropped as one she could not trust. She would often cheapen
Goods at the _New Exchange_[1] and when she had a mind to be
attacked, she would send me away on an Errand. When an humble Servant
and she were beginning a Parley, I came immediately, and told her Sir
_John_ was come home; then she would order another Coach to prevent
being dogged. The Lover makes Signs to me as I get behind the Coach, I
shake my Head it was impossible: I leave my Lady at the next Turning,
and follow the Cully to know how to fall in his Way on another
Occasion. Besides good Offices of this Nature, I writ all my
Mistress's Love-Letters; some from a Lady that saw such a Gentleman at
such a Place in such a coloured Coat, some shewing the Terrour she was
in of a jealous old Husband, others explaining that the Severity of
her Parents was such (tho' her Fortune was settled) that she was
willing to run away with such a one, tho' she knew he was but a
younger Brother. In a Word, my half Education and Love of idle Books,
made me outwrite all that made Love to her by way of Epistle; and as
she was extremely cunning, she did well enough in Company by a skilful
Affectation of the greatest Modesty. In the midst of all this I was
surprised with a Letter from her and a Ten Pound Note.

_Honest_ Tom,

You will never see me more. I am married to a very cunning Country
Gentleman, who might possibly guess something if I kept you still;
therefore farewell.

When this Place was lost also in Marriage, I was resolved to go among
quite another People, for the future; and got in Butler to one of
those Families where there is a Coach kept, three or four Servants, a
clean House, and a good general Outside upon a small Estate. Here I
lived very comfortably for some Time,'till I unfortunately found my
Master, the very gravest Man alive, in the Garret with the
Chambermaid. I knew the World too well to think of staying there; and
the next Day pretended to have received a Letter out of the Country
that my Father was dying, and got my Discharge with a Bounty for my
Discretion.

The next I lived with was a peevish single man, whom I stayed with for
a Year and a Half. Most part of the Time I passed very easily; for
when I began to know him, I minded no more than he meant what he said;
so that one Day in a good Humour he said _I was the best man he ever
had, by my want of respect to him_.

These, Sir, are the chief Occurrences of my Life; and I will not dwell
upon very many other Places I have been in, where I have been the
strangest Fellow in the World, where no Body in the World had such
Servants as they, where sure they were the unluckiest People in the
World in Servants; and so forth. All I mean by this Representation,
is, to shew you that we poor Servants are not (what you called us too
generally) all Rogues; but that we are what we are, according to the
Example of our Superiors. In the Family I am now in, I am guilty of no
one Sin but Lying; which I do with a grave Face in my Gown and Staff
every Day I live, and almost all Day long, in denying my Lord to
impertinent Suitors, and my Lady to unwelcome Visitants. But, Sir, I
am to let you know that I am, when I get abroad, a Leader of the
Servants: I am he that keep Time with beating my Cudgel against the
Boards in the Gallery at an Opera; I am he that am touched so properly
at a Tragedy, when the People of Quality are staring at one another
during the most important Incidents: When you hear in a Crowd a Cry in
the right Place, an Humm where the Point is touched in a Speech, or an
Hussa set up where it is the Voice of the People; you may conclude it
is begun or joined by,
T. _SIR,
Your more than Humble Servant,_
Thomas Trusty

[Footnote 1: A place of open-air entertainment near Buckingham House. Sir Charles Sedley named one of his plays after it.]

[Footnote 2: In the Strand, between Durham Yard and York Buildings; in the 'Spectator's' time the fashionable mart for milliners. It was taken down in 1737.]

* * * * *

No. 97. Thursday, June 21, 1711. Steele.

'Projecere animas.'

Virg.

Among the loose Papers which I have frequently spoken of heretofore, I find a Conversation between _Pharamond_ and _Eucrate_ upon the Subject of Duels, and the Copy of an Edict issued in Consequence of that Discourse.

_Eucrate_ argued, that nothing but the most severe and vindictive Punishments, such as placing the Bodies of the Offenders in Chains, and putting them to Death by the most exquisite Torments, would be sufficient to extirpate a Crime which had so long prevailed and was so firmly fixed in the Opinion of the World as great and laudable; but the King answered, That indeed Instances of Ignominy were necessary in the Cure of this Evil; but considering that it prevailed only among such as had a Nicety in their Sense of Honour, and that it often happened that a Duel was fought to save Appearances to the World, when both Parties were in their Hearts in Amity and Reconciliation to each other; it was evident that turning the Mode another way would effectually put a Stop to what had Being only as a Mode. That to such Persons, Poverty and Shame were Torments sufficient, That he would not go further in punishing in others Crimes which he was satisfied he himself was most Guilty of, in that he might have prevented them by speaking his Displeasure sooner. Besides which the King said, he was in general averse to Tortures, which was putting Human Nature it self, rather than the Criminal, to Disgrace; and that he would be sure not to use this Means where the Crime was but an ill Effect arising from a laudable Cause, the Fear of Shame. The King, at the same time, spoke with much Grace upon the Subject of Mercy; and repented of many Acts of that kind which had a magnificent Aspect in the doing, but dreadful Consequences in the Example. Mercy to Particulars, he observed, was Cruelty in the General: That though a Prince could not revive a Dead Man by taking the Life of him who killed him, neither could he make Reparation to the next that should die by the evil Example; or answer to himself for the Partiality, in not pardoning the next as well as the former Offender.

'As for me, says _Pharamond_, I have conquer'd _France_, and yet have
given Laws to my People: The Laws are my Methods of Life; they are not
a Diminution but a Direction to my Power. I am still absolute to
distinguish the Innocent and the Virtuous, to give Honours to the
Brave and Generous: I am absolute in my Good-will: none can oppose my
Bounty, or prescribe Rules for my Favour. While I can, as I please,
reward the Good, I am under no Pain that I cannot pardon the Wicked:
For which Reason, continued _Pharamond_, I will effectually put a stop
to this Evil, by exposing no more the Tenderness of my Nature to the
Importunity of having the same Respect to those who are miserable by
their Fault, and those who are so by their Misfortune. Flatterers
(concluded the King smiling) repeat to us Princes, that we are
Heaven's Vice-regents; Let us be so, and let the only thing out of our
Power be _to do Ill_.'

'Soon after the Evening wherein _Pharamond_ and _Eucrate_ had this Conversation, the following Edict was Published.

_Pharamond's_ Edict against Duels.

Pharamond, _King of the_ Gauls, _to all his loving Subjects sendeth
Greeting_.

Whereas it has come to our Royal Notice and Observation, that in
contempt of all Laws Divine and Human, it is of late become a Custom
among the Nobility and Gentry of this our Kingdom, upon slight and
trivial, as well as great and urgent Provocations, to invite each
other into the Field, there by their own Hands, and of their own
Authority, to decide their Controversies by Combat; We have thought
fit to take the said Custom into our Royal Consideration, and find,
upon Enquiry into the usual Causes whereon such fatal Decisions have
arisen, that by this wicked Custom, maugre all the Precepts of our
Holy Religion, and the Rules of right Reason, the greatest Act of the
human Mind, _Forgiveness of Injuries_, is become vile and shameful;
that the Rules of Good Society and Virtuous Conversation are hereby
inverted; that the Loose, the Vain, and the Impudent, insult the
Careful, the Discreet, and the Modest; that all Virtue is suppressed,
and all Vice supported, in the one Act of being capable to dare to the
Death. We have also further, with great Sorrow of Mind, observed that
this Dreadful Action, by long Impunity, (our Royal Attention being
employed upon Matters of more general Concern) is become Honourable,
and the Refusal to engage in it Ignominious. In these our Royal Cares
and Enquiries We are yet farther made to understand, that the Persons
of most Eminent Worth, and most hopeful Abilities, accompanied with
the strongest Passion for true Glory, are such as are most liable to
be involved in the Dangers arising from this Licence. Now taking the
said Premises into our serious Consideration, and well weighing that
all such Emergencies (wherein the Mind is incapable of commanding it
self, and where the Injury is too sudden or too exquisite to be born)
are particularly provided for by Laws heretofore enacted; and that the
Qualities of less Injuries, like those of Ingratitude, are too nice
and delicate to come under General Rules; We do resolve to blot this
Fashion, or Wantonness of Anger, out of the Minds of Our Subjects, by
Our Royal Resolutions declared in this Edict, as follow.

No Person who either Sends or Accepts a Challenge, or the Posterity of
either, tho' no Death ensues thereupon, shall be, after the
Publication of this our Edict, capable of bearing Office in these our
Dominions.

The Person who shall prove the sending or receiving a Challenge, shall
receive to his own Use and Property, the whole Personal Estate of both
Parties: and their Real Estate shall be immediately vested in the next
Heir of the Offenders in as ample Manner as if the said Offenders were
actually Deceased.

In Cases where the Laws (which we have already granted to our
Subjects) admit of an Appeal for Blood; when the Criminal is condemned
by the said Appeal, He shall not only suffer Death, but his whole
Estate, Real, Mixed, and Personal, shall from the Hour of his Death be
vested in the next Heir of the Person whose Blood he spilt.

That it shall not hereafter be in our Royal Power, or that of our
Successors, to pardon the said Offences, or restore [the Offenders
[1]] in their Estates, Honour, or Blood for ever.

_Given at our Court at_ Blois, _the 8th of_ February, 420. _In the
Second Year of our Reign_.

T.

[Footnote 1: them]

* * * * *

No. 98. Friday, June 22, 1711. Addison.

'Tanta est quarendi cura decoris.'

Juv.

There is not so variable a thing in Nature as a Lady's Head-dress: Within my own Memory I have known it rise and fall above thirty Degrees. About ten Years ago it shot up to a very great Height, [1] insomuch that the Female Part of our Species were much taller than the Men. The Women were of such an enormous Stature, that _we appeared as Grasshoppers before them_. [2] At present the whole Sex is in a manner dwarfed and shrunk into a race of Beauties that seems almost another Species. I remember several Ladies, who were once very near seven Foot high, that at present want some inches of five: How they came to be thus curtailed I cannot learn; whether the whole Sex be at present under any Penance which we know nothing of, or whether they have cast their Head-dresses in order to surprize us with something in that kind which shall be entirely new; or whether some of the tallest of the Sex, being too cunning for the rest, have contrived this Method to make themselves appear sizeable, is still a Secret; tho' I find most are of Opinion, they are at present like Trees new lopped and pruned, that will certainly sprout up and flourish with greater Heads than before. For my own part, as I do not love to be insulted by Women who are taller than my self, I admire the Sex much more in their present Humiliation, which has reduced them to their natural Dimensions, than when they had extended their Persons and lengthened themselves out into formidable and gigantick Figures. I am not for adding to the beautiful Edifices of Nature, nor for raising any whimsical Superstructure upon her Plans: I must therefore repeat it, that I am highly pleased with the Coiffure now in Fashion, and think it shews the good Sense which at present very much reigns among the valuable Part of the Sex. One may observe that Women in all Ages have taken more Pains than Men to adorn the Outside of their Heads; and indeed I very much admire, that those Female Architects, who raise such wonderful Structures out of Ribbands, Lace, and Wire, have not been recorded for their respective Inventions. It is certain there has been as many Orders in these Kinds of Building, as in those which have been made of Marble: Sometimes they rise in the Shape of a Pyramid, sometimes like a Tower, and sometimes like a Steeple. In _Juvenal's_ time the Building grew by several Orders and Stories, as he has very humorously described it.

Tot premit ordinibus, tot adhuc compagibus altum
Ædificat caput: Andromachen a fronte videbis;
Post minor est: Altam credas.

Juv.

But I do not remember in any Part of my Reading, that the Head-dress aspired to so great an Extravagance as in the fourteenth Century; when it was built up in a couple of Cones or Spires, which stood so excessively high on each Side of the Head, that a Woman, who was but a _Pigmie_ without her Head-dress, appear'd like a _Colossus_ upon putting it on. Monsieur _Paradin_ [3] says,

'That these old-fashioned Fontanges rose an Ell above the Head; that
they were pointed like Steeples, and had long loose Pieces of Crape
fastened to the Tops of them, which were curiously fringed and hung
down their Backs like Streamers.'

The Women might possibly have carried this Gothick Building much higher, had not a famous Monk, _Thomas Conecte_ [4] by Name, attacked it with great Zeal and Resolution.

This holy Man travelled from Place to Place to preach down this monstrous Commode; and succeeded so well in it, that as the Magicians sacrificed their Books to the Flames upon the Preaching of an Apostle, many of the Women threw down their Head-dresses in the Middle of his Sermon, and made a Bonfire of them within Sight of the Pulpit. He was so renowned as well for the Sanctity of his Life as his Manner of Preaching that he had often a Congregation of twenty thousand People; the Men placing themselves on the one Side of his Pulpit, and the Women on the other, that appeared (to use the Similitude of an ingenious Writer) like a Forest of Cedars with their Heads reaching to the Clouds. He so warmed and animated the People against this monstrous Ornament, that it lay under a kind of Persecution; and whenever it appeared in publick was pelted down by the Rabble, who flung Stones at the Persons that wore it. But notwithstanding this Prodigy vanished, while the Preacher was among them, it began to appear again some Months after his Departure, or to tell it in Monsieur _Paradin's_ own Words,

'The Women that, like Snails, in a Fright, had drawn in their Horns,
shot them out again as soon as the Danger was over.'

This Extravagance of the Womens Head-dresses in that Age is taken notice of by Monsieur _d'Argentré_ [5] in the History of _Bretagne_, and by other Historians as well as the Person I have here quoted.