Chapter XXXVII: Introduction (37)

Now am I to repeat to you the unnatural Request of taking me in direct
Terms. I know there stands between me and that Happiness, the haughty
Daughter of a Man who can give you suitably to your Fortune. But if
you weigh the Attendance and Behaviour of her who comes to you in
Partnership of your Fortune, and expects an Equivalent, with that of
her who enters your House as honoured and obliged by that Permission,
whom of the two will you chuse? You, perhaps, will think fit to spend
a Day abroad in the common Entertainments of Men of Sense and Fortune;
she will think herself ill-used in that Absence, and contrive at Home
an Expence proportioned to the Appearance which you make in the World.
She is in all things to have a Regard to the Fortune which she brought
you, I to the Fortune to which you introduced me. The Commerce between
you two will eternally have the Air of a Bargain, between us of a
Friendship: Joy will ever enter into the Room with you, and kind
Wishes attend my Benefactor when he leaves it. Ask your self, how
would you be pleased to enjoy for ever the Pleasure of having laid an
immediate Obligation on a grateful Mind? such will be your Case with
Me. In the other Marriage you will live in a constant Comparison of
Benefits, and never know the Happiness of conferring or receiving any.

It may be you will, after all, act rather in the prudential Way,
according to the Sense of the ordinary World. I know not what I think
or say, when that melancholy Reflection comes upon me; but shall only
add more, that it is in your Power to make me
your Grateful Wife,
but never your Abandoned Mistress.

T.

[Footnote 1: A character in Madame Scudéri's 'Grand Cyrus.']

[Footnote 2: made to]

* * * * *

No. 200. Friday, October 19, 1711. Steele. [1]

'Vincit Amor Patriæ.'

Virg.

The Ambition of Princes is many times as hurtful to themselves as to their People. This cannot be doubted of such as prove unfortunate in their Wars, but it is often true too of those who are celebrated for their Successes. If a severe View were to be taken of their Conduct, if the Profit and Loss by their Wars could be justly ballanced, it would be rarely found that the Conquest is sufficient to repay the Cost.

As I was the other Day looking over the Letters of my Correspondents, I took this Hint from that of _Philarithmus_ [2]; which has turned my present Thoughts upon Political Arithmetick, an Art of greater Use than Entertainment. My Friend has offered an Essay towards proving that _Lewis_ XIV. with all his Acquisitions is not Master of more People than at the Beginning of his Wars, nay that for every Subject he had acquired, he had lost Three that were his Inheritance: If _Philarithmus_ is not mistaken in his Calculations, _Lewis_ must have been impoverished by his Ambition.

The Prince for the Publick Good has a Sovereign Property in every Private Person's Estate, and consequently his Riches must encrease or decrease in proportion to the Number and Riches of his Subjects. For Example: If Sword or Pestilence should destroy all the People of this Metropolis, (God forbid there should be Room for such a Supposition! but if this should be the Case) the Queen must needs lose a great Part of her Revenue, or, at least, what is charged upon the City must encrease the Burden upon the rest of her Subjects. Perhaps the Inhabitants here are not above a Tenth Part of the Whole; yet as they are better fed, and cloth'd, and lodg'd, than her other Subjects, the Customs and Excises upon their Consumption, the Imposts upon their Houses, and other Taxes, do very probably make a fifth Part of the whole Revenue of the Crown. But this is not all; the Consumption of the City takes off a great Part of the Fruits of the whole Island; and as it pays such a Proportion of the Rent or yearly Value of the Lands in the Country, so it is the Cause of paying such a Proportion of Taxes upon those Lands. The Loss then of such a People must needs be sensible to the Prince, and visible to the whole Kingdom.

On the other hand, if it should please God to drop from Heaven a new People equal in Number and Riches to the City, I should be ready to think their Excises, Customs, and House-Rent would raise as great a Revenue to the Crown as would be lost in the former Case. And as the Consumption of this New Body would be a new Market for the Fruits of the Country, all the Lands, especially those most adjacent, would rise in their yearly Value, and pay greater yearly Taxes to the Publick. The Gain in this Case would be as sensible as the former Loss.

Whatsoever is assess'd upon the General, is levied upon Individuals. It were worth the while then to consider what is paid by, or by means of, the meanest Subjects, in order to compute the Value of every Subject to the Prince.

For my own part, I should believe that Seven Eighths of the People are without Property in themselves or the Heads of their Families, and forced to work for their daily Bread; and that of this Sort there are Seven Millions in the whole Island of _Great Britain_: And yet one would imagine that Seven Eighths of the whole People should consume at least three Fourths of the whole Fruits of the Country. If this is the Case, the Subjects without Property pay Three Fourths of the Rents, and consequently enable the Landed Men to pay Three Fourths of their Taxes. Now if so great a Part of the Land-Tax were to be divided by Seven Millions, it would amount to more than three Shillings to every Head. And thus as the Poor are the Cause, without which the Rich could not pay this Tax, even the poorest Subject is upon this Account worth three Shillings yearly to the Prince.

Again: One would imagine the Consumption of seven Eighths of the whole People, should pay two Thirds of all the Customs and Excises. And if this Sum too should be divided by seven Millions, _viz._ the Number of poor People, it would amount to more than seven Shillings to every Head: And therefore with this and the former Sum every poor Subject, without Property, except of his Limbs or Labour, is worth at least ten Shillings yearly to the Sovereign. So much then the Queen loses with every one of her old, and gains with every one of her new Subjects.

When I was got into this Way of thinking, I presently grew conceited of the Argument, and was just preparing to write a Letter of Advice to a Member of Parliament, for opening the Freedom of our Towns and Trades, for taking away all manner of Distinctions between the Natives and Foreigners, for repealing our Laws of Parish Settlements, and removing every other Obstacle to the Increase of the People. But as soon as I had recollected with what inimitable Eloquence my Fellow-Labourers had exaggerated the Mischiefs of selling the Birth-right of _Britons_ for a Shilling, of spoiling the pure _British_ Blood with Foreign Mixtures, of introducing a Confusion of Languages and Religions, and of letting in Strangers to eat the Bread out of the Mouths of our own People, I became so humble as to let my Project fall to the Ground, and leave my Country to encrease by the ordinary Way of Generation.

As I have always at Heart the Publick Good, so I am ever contriving Schemes to promote it; and I think I may without Vanity pretend to have contrived some as wise as any of the Castle-builders. I had no sooner given up my former Project, but my Head was presently full of draining Fens and Marshes, banking out the Sea, and joining new Lands to my Country; for since it is thought impracticable to encrease the People to the Land, I fell immediately to consider how much would be gained to the Prince by encreasing the Lands to the People.

If the same omnipotent Power, which made the World, should at this time raise out of the Ocean and join to _Great Britain_ an equal Extent of Land, with equal Buildings, Corn, Cattle and other Conveniences and Necessaries of Life, but no Men, Women, nor Children, I should hardly believe this would add either to the Riches of the People, or Revenue of the Prince; for since the present Buildings are sufficient for all the Inhabitants, if any of them should forsake the old to inhabit the new Part of the Island, the Increase of House-Rent in this would be attended with at least an equal Decrease of it in the other: Besides, we have such a Sufficiency of Corn and Cattle, that we give Bounties to our Neighbours to take what exceeds of the former off our Hands, and we will not suffer any of the latter to be imported upon us by our Fellow-Subjects; and for the remaining Product of the Country 'tis already equal to all our Markets. But if all these Things should be doubled to the same Buyers, the Owners must be glad with half their present Prices, the Landlords with half their present Rents; and thus by so great an Enlargement of the Country, the Rents in the whole would not increase, nor the Taxes to the Publick.

On the contrary, I should believe they would be very much diminished; for as the Land is only valuable for its Fruits, and these are all perishable, and for the most part must either be used within the Year, or perish without Use, the Owners will get rid of them at any rate, rather than they should waste in their Possession: So that 'tis probable the annual Production of those perishable things, even of one Tenth Part of them, beyond all Possibility of Use, will reduce one Half of their Value. It seems to be for this Reason that our Neighbour Merchants who ingross all the Spices, and know how great a Quantity is equal to the Demand, destroy all that exceeds it. It were natural then to think that the Annual Production of twice as much as can be used, must reduce all to an Eighth Part of their present Prices; and thus this extended Island would not exceed one Fourth Part of its present Value, or pay more than one Fourth Part of the present Tax.

It is generally observed, That in Countries of the greatest Plenty there is the poorest Living; like the Schoolmen's Ass, in one of my Speculations, the People almost starve between two Meals. The Truth is, the Poor, which are the Bulk of the Nation, work only that they may live; and if with two Days Labour they can get a wretched Subsistence for a Week, they will hardly be brought to work the other four: But then with the Wages of two Days they can neither pay such Prices for their Provisions, nor such Excises to the Government.

That paradox therefore in old _Hesiod_ [[Greek: pleon hemisu pantos], [3]] or Half is more than the Whole, is very applicable to the present Case; since nothing is more true in political Arithmetick, than that the same People with half a Country is more valuable than with the Whole. I begin to think there was nothing absurd in Sir _W. Petty_, when he fancied if all the Highlands of _Scotland_ and the whole Kingdom of _Ireland_ were sunk in the Ocean, so that the People were all saved and brought into the Lowlands of _Great Britain_; nay, though they were to be reimburst the Value of their Estates by the Body of the People, yet both the Sovereign and the Subjects in general would be enriched by the very Loss. [4]

If the People only make the Riches, the Father of ten Children is a greater Benefactor to his Country, than he who has added to it 10000 Acres of Land and no People. It is certain _Lewis_ has join'd vast Tracts of Land to his Dominions: But if _Philarithmus_ says true, that he is not now Master of so many Subjects as before; we may then account for his not being able to bring such mighty Armies into the Field, and for their being neither so well fed, nor cloathed, nor paid as formerly. The Reason is plain, _Lewis_ must needs have been impoverished not only by his Loss of Subjects, but by his Acquisition of Lands.

T.

[Footnote 1: Or Henry Martyn.]

[Footnote 2: In No. 180.]

[Footnote 3: [Greek: pleón haemisi panta]]

[Footnote 4: A new edition of Sir W. Petty's 'Essays in Political Arithmetic' had just appeared.]

* * * * *

No. 201. Saturday, October 20, 1711. Addison.

'Religentem esse oportet, Religiosum nefas.'

Incerti Autoris apud Aul. Gell.

It is of the last Importance to season the Passions of a Child with Devotion, which seldom dies in a Mind that has received an early Tincture of it. Though it may seem extinguished for a while by the Cares of the World, the Heats of Youth, or the Allurements of Vice, it generally breaks out and discovers it self again as soon as Discretion, Consideration, Age, or Misfortunes have brought the Man to himself. The Fire may be covered and overlaid, but cannot be entirely quenched and smothered.

A State of Temperance, Sobriety, and Justice, without Devotion, is a cold, lifeless, insipid Condition of Virtue; and is rather to be styled Philosophy than Religion. Devotion opens the Mind to great Conceptions, and fills it with more sublime Ideas than any that are to be met with in the most exalted Science; and at the same time warms and agitates the Soul more than sensual Pleasure.

It has been observed by some Writers, that Man is more distinguished from the Animal World by Devotion than by Reason, as several Brute Creatures discover in their Actions something like a faint Glimmering of Reason, though they betray in no single Circumstance of their Behaviour any Thing that bears the least Affinity to Devotion. It is certain, the Propensity of the Mind to Religious Worship; the natural Tendency of the Soul to fly to some Superior Being for Succour in Dangers and Distresses, the Gratitude to an invisible Superintendent [which [1]] rises in us upon receiving any extraordinary and unexpected good Fortune; the Acts of Love and Admiration with which the Thoughts of Men are so wonderfully transported in meditating upon the Divine Perfections, and the universal Concurrence of all the Nations under Heaven in the great Article of Adoration, plainly shew that Devotion or Religious Worship must be the Effect of Tradition from some first Founder of Mankind, or that it is conformable to the Natural Light of Reason, or that it proceeds from an Instinct implanted in the Soul it self. For my part, I look upon all these to be the concurrent Causes, but which ever of them shall be assigned as the Principle of Divine Worship, it manifestly points to a Supreme Being as the first Author of it.

I may take some other Opportunity of considering those particular Forms and Methods of Devotion which are taught us by Christianity, but shall here observe into what Errors even this Divine Principle may sometimes lead us, when it is not moderated by that right Reason which was given us as the Guide of all our Actions.

The two great Errors into which a mistaken Devotion may betray us, are Enthusiasm and Superstition.

There is not a more melancholy Object than a Man who has his Head turned with Religious Enthusiasm. A Person that is crazed, tho' with Pride or Malice, is a Sight very mortifying to Human Nature; but when the Distemper arises from any indiscreet Fervours of Devotion, or too intense an Application of the Mind to its mistaken Duties, it deserves our Compassion in a more particular Manner. We may however learn this Lesson from it, that since Devotion it self (which one would be apt to think could not be too warm) may disorder the Mind, unless its Heats are tempered with Caution and Prudence, we should be particularly careful to keep our Reason as cool as possible, and to guard our selves in all Parts of Life against the Influence of Passion, Imagination, and Constitution.

Devotion, when it does not lie under the Check of Reason, is very apt to degenerate into Enthusiasm. When the Mind finds herself very much inflamed with her Devotions, she is too much inclined to think they are not of her own kindling, but blown up by something Divine within her. If she indulges this Thought too far, and humours the growing Passion, she at last flings her self into imaginary Raptures and Extasies; and when once she fancies her self under the Influence of a Divine Impulse, it is no Wonder if she slights Human Ordinances, and refuses to comply with any established Form of Religion, as thinking her self directed by a much superior Guide.

As Enthusiasm is a kind of Excess in Devotion, Superstition is the Excess not only of Devotion, but of Religion in general, according to an old Heathen Saying, quoted by _Aulus Gellius_, _Religentem esse oportet, Religiosum nefas_; A Man should be Religious, not Superstitious: For as the Author tells us, _Nigidius_ observed upon this Passage, that the _Latin_ Words which terminate in _osus_ generally imply vicious Characters, and the having of any Quality to an Excess. [2]

An Enthusiast in Religion is like an obstinate Clown, a Superstitious Man like an insipid Courtier. Enthusiasm has something in it of Madness, Superstition of Folly. Most of the Sects that fall short of the Church of _England_ have in them strong Tinctures of Enthusiasm, as the _Roman_ Catholick Religion is one huge overgrown Body of childish and idle Superstitions.

The _Roman_ Catholick Church seems indeed irrecoverably lost in this Particular. If an absurd Dress or Behaviour be introduced in the World, it will soon be found out and discarded: On the contrary, a Habit or Ceremony, tho' never so ridiculous, [which [3]] has taken Sanctuary in the Church, sticks in it for ever. A _Gothic_ Bishop perhaps, thought it proper to repeat such a Form in such particular Shoes or Slippers; another fancied it would be very decent if such a Part of publick Devotions were performed with a Mitre on his Head, and a Crosier in his Hand: To this a Brother _Vandal_, as wise as the others, adds an antick Dress, which he conceived would allude very aptly to such and such Mysteries, till by Degrees the whole Office [has] degenerated into an empty Show.

Their Successors see the Vanity and Inconvenience of these Ceremonies; but instead of reforming, perhaps add others, which they think more significant, and which take Possession in the same manner, and are never to be driven out after they have been once admitted. I have seen the Pope officiate at St. _Peter's_ where, for two Hours together, he was busied in putting on or off his different Accoutrements, according to the different Parts he was to act in them.

Nothing is so glorious in the Eyes of Mankind, and ornamental to Human Nature, setting aside the infinite Advantages [which [4]] arise from it, as a strong, steady masculine Piety; but Enthusiasm and Superstition are the Weaknesses of human Reason, that expose us to the Scorn and Derision of Infidels, and sink us even below the Beasts that perish.

Idolatry may be looked upon as another Error arising from mistaken Devotion; but because Reflections on that Subject would be of no use to an _English_ Reader, I shall not enlarge upon it.

[Footnote 1: that]

[Footnote 2: Noct. Att., Bk. iv. ch. 9.]

[Footnote 3: that]

[Footnote 4: that]

* * * * *

No. 202. Monday, October 22, 1711. Steele.

'Sæpe decem vitiis instructior odit et horret.'

Hor.

The other Day as I passed along the Street, I saw a sturdy Prentice-Boy Disputing with an Hackney-Coachman; and in an Instant, upon some Word of Provocation, throw off his Hat and [Cut-Periwig, [1]] clench his Fist, and strike the Fellow a Slap on the Face; at the same time calling him Rascal, and telling him he was a Gentleman's Son. The young Gentleman was, it seems, bound to a Blacksmith; and the Debate arose about Payment for some Work done about a Coach, near which they Fought. His Master, during the Combat, was full of his Boy's Praises; and as he called to him to play with his Hand and Foot, and throw in his Head, he made all us who stood round him of his Party, by declaring the Boy had very good Friends, and he could trust him with untold Gold. As I am generally in the Theory of Mankind, I could not but make my Reflections upon the sudden Popularity which was raised about the Lad; and perhaps, with my Friend _Tacitus_, fell into Observations upon it, which were too great for the Occasion; or ascribed this general Favour to Causes which had nothing to do towards it. But the young Blacksmith's being a Gentleman was, methought, what created him good Will from his present Equality with the Mob about him: Add to this, that he was not so much a Gentleman, as not, at the same time that he called himself such, to use as rough Methods for his Defence as his Antagonist. The Advantage of his having good Friends, as his Master expressed it, was not lazily urged; but he shewed himself superior to the Coachman in the personal Qualities of Courage and Activity, to confirm that of his being well allied, before his Birth was of any Service to him.

If one might Moralize from this silly Story, a Man would say, that whatever Advantages of Fortune, Birth, or any other Good, People possess above the rest of the World, they should shew collateral Eminences besides those Distinctions; or those Distinctions will avail only to keep up common Decencies and Ceremonies, and not to preserve a real Place of Favour or Esteem in the Opinion and common Sense of their Fellow-Creatures.

The Folly of People's Procedure, in imagining that nothing more is necessary than Property and superior Circumstances to support them in Distinction, appears in no way so much as in the Domestick part of Life. It is ordinary to feed their Humours into unnatural Excrescences, if I may so speak, and make their whole Being a wayward and uneasy Condition, for want of the obvious Reflection that all Parts of Human Life is a Commerce. It is not only paying Wages, and giving Commands, that constitutes a Master of a Family; but Prudence, equal Behaviour, with Readiness to protect and cherish them, is what entitles a Man to that Character in their very Hearts and Sentiments. It is pleasant enough to Observe, that Men expect from their Dependants, from their sole Motive of Fear, all the good Effects which a liberal Education, and affluent Fortune, and every other Advantage, cannot produce in themselves. A Man will have his Servant just, diligent, sober and chaste, for no other Reasons but the Terrour of losing his Master's Favour; when all the Laws Divine and Human cannot keep him whom he serves within Bounds, with relation to any one of those Virtues. But both in great and ordinary Affairs, all Superiority, which is not founded on Merit and Virtue, is supported only by Artifice and Stratagem. Thus you see Flatterers are the Agents in Families of Humourists, and those who govern themselves by any thing but Reason. Make-Bates, distant Relations, poor Kinsmen, and indigent Followers, are the Fry which support the Oeconomy of an humoursome rich Man. He is eternally whispered with Intelligence of who are true or false to him in Matters of no Consequence, and he maintains twenty Friends to defend him against the Insinuations of one who would perhaps cheat him of an old Coat.

I shall not enter into farther Speculation upon this Subject at present, but think the following Letters and Petition are made up of proper Sentiments on this Occasion.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

I am a Servant to an old Lady who is governed by one she calls her
Friend; who is so familiar an one, that she takes upon her to advise
her without being called to it, and makes her uneasie with all about
her. Pray, Sir, be pleased to give us some Remarks upon voluntary
Counsellors; and let these People know that to give any Body Advice,
is to say to that Person, I am your Betters. Pray, Sir, as near as you
can, describe that eternal Flirt and Disturber of Families, Mrs.
_Taperty_, who is always visiting, and putting People in a Way, as
they call it. If you can make her stay at home one Evening, you will
be a general Benefactor to all the Ladies Women in Town, and
particularly to

_Your loving Friend_,

Susan Civil.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'I am a Footman, and live with one of those Men, each of whom is said
to be one of the best humoured Men in the World, but that he is
passionate. Pray be pleased to inform them, that he who is passionate,
and takes no Care to command his Hastiness, does more Injury to his
Friends and Servants in one half Hour, than whole Years can attone
for. This Master of mine, who is the best Man alive in common Fame,
disobliges Some body every Day he lives; and strikes me for the next
thing I do, because he is out of Humour at it. If these Gentlemen
[knew [2]] that they do all the Mischief that is ever done in
Conversation, they would reform; and I who have been a Spectator of
Gentlemen at Dinner for many Years, have seen that Indiscretion does
ten times more Mischief than Ill-nature. But you will represent this
better than _Your abused_

_Humble Servant_,

Thomas Smoaky.

_To the_ SPECTATOR,

The humble Petition of _John Steward_, _Robert Butler_, _Harry Cook_,
and _Abigail Chambers_, in Behalf of themselves and their Relations,
belonging to and dispersed in the several Services of most of the
great Families within the Cities of _London and Westminster_;

Sheweth,

That in many of the Families in which your Petitioners live and are
employed, the several Heads of them are wholly unacquainted with what
is Business, and are very little Judges when they are well or ill used
by us your said Petitioners.

That for want of such Skill in their own Affairs, and by Indulgence
of their own Laziness and Pride, they continually keep about them
certain mischievous Animals called Spies.

That whenever a Spy is entertained, the Peace of that House is from
that Moment banished.

That Spies never give an Account of good Services, but represent our
Mirth and Freedom by the Words Wantonness and Disorder.

That in all Families where there are Spies, there is a general
Jealousy and Misunderstanding.

That the Masters and Mistresses of such Houses live in continual
Suspicion of their ingenuous and true Servants, and are given up to
the Management of those who are false and perfidious.

That such Masters and Mistresses who entertain Spies, are no longer
more than Cyphers in their own Families; and that we your Petitioners
are with great Disdain obliged to pay all our Respect, and expect all
our Maintenance from such Spies.

Your Petitioners therefore most humbly pray, that you would represent
the Premises to all Persons of Condition; and your Petitioners, as in
Duty bound, shall for ever Pray, &c.

T.

[Footnote 1: Perriwig]

[Footnote 2: "know", and in first reprint.]

END OF VOLUME I.

THE SPECTATOR

VOL. II.

A NEW EDITION

REPRODUCING THE ORIGINAL TEXT BOTH AS FIRST ISSUED AND AS CORRECTED BY ITS AUTHORS

WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND INDEX

BY HENRY MORLEY

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON

IN THREE VOLUMES

VOL. II.

LONDON

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED

BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL GLASGOW, MANCHESTER AND NEW YORK

1891

No. 203. Tuesday, October 23, 1711. Addison.

Phoebe pater, si das hujus mihi nominis usum,
Nec falsâ Clymene culpam sub imagine celat;
Pignora da, Genitor

Ov. Met.

There is a loose Tribe of Men whom I have not yet taken Notice of, that ramble into all the Corners of this great City, in order to seduce such unfortunate Females as fall into their Walks. These abandoned Profligates raise up Issue in every Quarter of the Town, and very often, for a valuable Consideration, father it upon the Church-warden. By this means there are several Married Men who have a little Family in most of the Parishes of London and Westminster, and several Batchelors who are undone by a Charge of Children.

When a Man once gives himself this Liberty of preying at large, and living upon the Common, he finds so much Game in a populous City, that it is surprising to consider the Numbers which he sometimes propagates. We see many a young Fellow who is scarce of Age, that could lay his Claim to the Jus trium Liberorum, or the Privileges which were granted by the Roman Laws to all such as were Fathers of three Children: Nay, I have heard a Rake [who [1]] was not quite five and twenty, declare himself the Father of a seventh Son, and very prudently determine to breed him up a Physician. In short, the Town is full of these young Patriarchs, not to mention several batter'd Beaus, who, like heedless Spendthrifts that squander away their Estates before they are Masters of them, have raised up their whole Stock of Children before Marriage.

I must not here omit the particular Whim of an Impudent Libertine, that had a little Smattering of Heraldry; and observing how the Genealogies of great Families were often drawn up in the Shape of Trees, had taken a Fancy to dispose of his own illegitimate Issue in a Figure of the same kind.

--Nec longum tempus et ingens
Exiit ad coelum ramis felicibus arbos,
Miraturque novas frondes, et non sua poma.

Virg. [2]

The Trunk of the Tree was mark'd with his own Name, Will Maple. Out of the Side of it grew a large barren Branch, Inscribed Mary Maple, the Name of his unhappy Wife. The Head was adorned with five huge Boughs. On the Bottom of the first was written in Capital Characters Kate Cole, who branched out into three Sprigs, viz. William, Richard, and Rebecca. Sal Twiford gave Birth to another Bough, that shot up into Sarah, Tom, Will, and Frank. The third Arm of the Tree had only a single Infant in it, with a Space left for a second, the Parent from whom it sprung being near her Time when the Author took this Ingenious Device into his Head. The two other great Boughs were very plentifully loaden with Fruit of the same kind; besides which there were many Ornamental Branches that did not bear. In short, a more flourishing Tree never came out of the Heralds Office.

What makes this Generation of Vermin so very prolifick, is the indefatigable Diligence with which they apply themselves to their Business. A Man does not undergo more Watchings and Fatigues in a Campaign, than in the Course of a vicious Amour. As it is said of some Men, that they make their Business their Pleasure, these Sons of Darkness may be said to make their Pleasure their Business. They might conquer their corrupt Inclinations with half the Pains they are at in gratifying them.

Nor is the Invention of these Men less to be admired than their Industry or Vigilance. There is a Fragment of Apollodorus the Comick Poet (who was Contemporary with Menander) which is full of Humour as follows: Thou mayest shut up thy Doors, says he, with Bars and Bolts: It will be impossible for the Blacksmith to make them so fast, but a Cat and a Whoremaster will find a Way through them. In a word, there is no Head so full of Stratagems as that of a Libidinous Man.

Were I to propose a Punishment for this infamous Race of Propagators, it should be to send them, after the second or third Offence, into our American Colonies, in order to people those Parts of her Majesty's Dominions where there is a want of Inhabitants, and in the Phrase of Diogenes, to Plant Men. Some Countries punish this Crime with Death; but I think such a Banishment would be sufficient, and might turn this generative Faculty to the Advantage of the Publick.

In the mean time, till these Gentlemen may be thus disposed of, I would earnestly exhort them to take Care of those unfortunate Creatures whom they have brought into the World by these indirect Methods, and to give their spurious Children such an Education as may render them more virtuous than their Parents. This is the best Atonement they can make for their own Crimes, and indeed the only Method that is left them to repair their past Mis-carriages.

I would likewise desire them to consider, whether they are not bound in common Humanity, as well as by all the Obligations of Religion and Nature, to make some Provision for those whom they have not only given Life to, but entail'd upon them, [tho very unreasonably, a Degree of] Shame and [Disgrace. [3]] And here I cannot but take notice of those depraved Notions which prevail among us, and which must have taken rise from our natural Inclination to favour a Vice to which we are so very prone, namely, that Bastardy and Cuckoldom should be look'd upon as Reproaches, and that the [Ignominy [4]] which is only due to Lewdness and Falsehood, should fall in so unreasonable a manner upon the Persons who [are [5]] innocent.

I have been insensibly drawn into this Discourse by the following Letter, which is drawn up with such a Spirit of Sincerity, that I question not but the Writer of it has represented his Case in a true and genuine Light.

SIR,

I am one of those People who by the general Opinion of the World are
counted both Infamous and Unhappy.

My Father is a very eminent Man in this Kingdom, and one who bears
considerable Offices in it. I am his Son, but my Misfortune is, That I
dare not call him Father, nor he without Shame own me as his Issue, I
being illegitimate, and therefore deprived of that endearing
Tenderness and unparallel'd Satisfaction which a good Man finds in the
Love and Conversation of a Parent: Neither have I the Opportunities to
render him the Duties of a Son, he having always carried himself at so
vast a Distance, and with such Superiority towards me, that by long
Use I have contracted a Timorousness when before him, which hinders me
from declaring my own Necessities, and giving him to understand the
Inconveniencies I undergo.

It is my Misfortune to have been neither bred a Scholar, [a Soldier,]
nor to [any kind of] Business, which renders me Entirely uncapable of
making Provision for my self without his Assistance; and this creates
a continual Uneasiness in my Mind, fearing I shall in Time want Bread;
my Father, if I may so call him, giving me but very faint Assurances
of doing any thing for me.

I have hitherto lived somewhat like a Gentleman, and it would be very
hard for me to labour for my Living. I am in continual Anxiety for my
future Fortune, and under a great Unhappiness in losing the sweet
Conversation and friendly Advice of my Parents; so that I cannot look
upon my self otherwise than as a Monster, strangely sprung up in
Nature, which every one is ashamed to own.

I am thought to be a Man of some natural Parts, and by the continual
Reading what you have offered the World, become an Admirer thereof,
which has drawn me to make this Confession; at the same time hoping,
if any thing herein shall touch you with a Sense of Pity, you would
then allow me the Favour of your Opinion thereupon; as also what Part
I, being unlawfully born, may claim of the Man's Affection who begot
me, and how far in your Opinion I am to be thought his Son, or he
acknowledged as my Father. Your Sentiments and Advice herein will be a
great Consolation and Satisfaction to,
SIR,
Your Admirer and Humble Servant,
W. B.

[Footnote 1: that]

[Footnote 2: Georg. II. v. 89.]

[Footnote 3: Infamy.]

[Footnote 4: Shame]

[Footnote 5: suffer and are]

C.

* * * * *

No. 204. Wednesday, October 24, 1711. Steele.

Urit grata protervitas,
Et vultus nimium lubricùs aspici.

Hor.

I am not at all displeased that I am become the Courier of Love, and that the Distressed in that Passion convey their Complaints to each other by my Means. The following Letters have lately come to my hands, and shall have their Place with great Willingness. As to the Readers Entertainment, he will, I hope, forgive the inserting such Particulars as to him may perhaps seem frivolous, but are to the Persons who wrote them of the highest Consequence. I shall not trouble you with the Prefaces, Compliments, and Apologies made to me before each Epistle when it was desired to be inserted; but in general they tell me, that the Persons to whom they are addressed have Intimations, by Phrases and Allusions in them, from whence they came.

_To the_ Sothades [1].

"The Word, by which I address you, gives you, who understand
_Portuguese_, a lively Image of the tender Regard I have for you. The
SPECTATOR'S late Letter from _Statira_ gave me the Hint to use the
same Method of explaining my self to you. I am not affronted at the
Design your late Behaviour discovered you had in your Addresses to me;
but I impute it to the Degeneracy of the Age, rather than your
particular Fault. As I aim at nothing more than being yours, I am
willing to be a Stranger to your Name, your Fortune, or any Figure
which your Wife might expect to make in the World, provided my
Commerce with you is not to be a guilty one. I resign gay Dress, the
Pleasure of Visits, Equipage, Plays, Balls, and Operas, for that one
Satisfaction of having you for ever mine. I am willing you shall
industriously conceal the only Cause of Triumph which I can know in
this Life. I wish only to have it my Duty, as well as my Inclination,
to study your Happiness. If this has not the Effect this Letter seems
to aim at, you are to understand that I had a mind to be rid of you,
and took the readiest Way to pall you with an Offer of what you would
never desist pursuing while you received ill Usage. Be a true Man; be
my Slave while you doubt me, and neglect me when you think I love you.
I defy you to find out what is your present Circumstance with me; but
I know while I can keep this Suspence.

_I am your admired_ Belinda."

_Madam_,

"It is a strange State of Mind a Man is in, when the very
Imperfections of a Woman he loves turn into Excellencies and
Advantages. I do assure you, I am very much afraid of venturing upon
you. I now like you in spite of my Reason, and think it an ill
Circumstance to owe ones Happiness to nothing but Infatuation. I can
see you ogle all the young Fellows who look at you, and observe your
Eye wander after new Conquests every Moment you are in a publick
Place; and yet there is such a Beauty in all your Looks and Gestures,
that I cannot but admire you in the very Act of endeavouring to gain
the Hearts of others. My Condition is the same with that of the Lover
in the _Way of the World_, [2] I have studied your Faults so long,
that they are become as familiar to me, and I like them as well as I
do my own. Look to it, Madam, and consider whether you think this gay
Behaviour will appear to me as amiable when an Husband, as it does now
to me a Lover. Things are so far advanced, that we must proceed; and I
hope you will lay it to Heart, that it will be becoming in me to
appear still your Lover, but not in you to be still my Mistress.
Gaiety in the Matrimonial Life is graceful in one Sex, but
exceptionable in the other. As you improve these little Hints, you
will ascertain the Happiness or Uneasiness of,
_Madam,
Your most obedient,
Most humble Servant_,
T.D."

_SIR_,
When I sat at the Window, and you at the other End of the Room by my
Cousin, I saw you catch me looking at you. Since you have the Secret
at last, which I am sure you should never have known but by
Inadvertency, what my Eyes said was true. But it is too soon to
confirm it with my Hand, therefore shall not subscribe my Name.

_SIR_,
There were other Gentlemen nearer, and I know no Necessity you were
under to take up that flippant Creatures Fan last Night; but you
shall never touch a Stick of mine more, that's pos.
_Phillis_.

To Colonel R----s [3] in Spain.

Before this can reach the best of Husbands and the fondest Lover,
those tender Names will be no more of Concern to me. The Indisposition
in which you, to obey the Dictates of your Honour and Duty, left me,
has increased upon me; and I am acquainted by my Physicians I cannot
live a Week longer. At this time my Spirits fail me; and it is the
ardent Love I have for you that carries me beyond my Strength, and
enables me to tell you, the most painful Thing in the Prospect of
Death, is, that I must part with you. But let it be a Comfort to you,
that I have no Guilt hangs upon me, no unrepented Folly that retards
me; but I pass away my last Hours in Reflection upon the Happiness we
have lived in together, and in Sorrow that it is so soon to have an
End. This is a Frailty which I hope is so far from criminal, that
methinks there is a kind of Piety in being so unwilling to be
separated from a State which is the Institution of Heaven, and in
which we have lived according to its Laws. As we know no more of the
next Life, but that it will be an happy one to the Good, and miserable
to the Wicked, why may we not please ourselves at least, to alleviate
the Difficulty of resigning this Being, in imagining that we shall
have a Sense of what passes below, and may possibly be employed in
guiding the Steps of those with whom we walked with Innocence when
mortal? Why may not I hope to go on in my usual Work, and, tho
unknown to you, be assistant in all the Conflicts of your Mind? Give
me leave to say to you, O best of Men, that I cannot figure to myself
a greater Happiness than in such an Employment: To be present at all
the Adventures to which human Life is exposed, to administer Slumber
to thy Eyelids in the Agonies of a Fever, to cover thy beloved Face in
the Day of Battle, to go with thee a Guardian Angel incapable of Wound
or Pain, where I have longed to attend thee when a weak, a fearful
Woman: These, my Dear, are the Thoughts with which I warm my poor
languid Heart; but indeed I am not capable under my present Weakness
of bearing the strong Agonies of Mind I fall into, when I form to
myself the Grief you will be in upon your first hearing of my
Departure. I will not dwell upon this, because your kind and generous
Heart will be but the more afflicted, the more the Person for whom you
lament offers you Consolation. My last Breath will, if I am my self,
expire in a Prayer for you. I shall never see thy Face again.

Farewell for ever. T.

[Footnote 1: Saudades. To have saudades of anything is to yearn with desire towards it. Saudades da Patria is home sickness. To say Tenho Saudades without naming an object would be taken to mean I am all yearning to call a certain gentleman or lady mine.]

[Footnote 2: In Act I. sc. 3, of Congreve's Way of the World, Mirabell says of Millamant,

I like her with all her faults, nay, like her for her faults. Her
follies are so natural, or so artful, that they become her; and those
affectations which in another woman would be odious, serve but to make
her more agreeable. Ill tell thee, Fainall, she once used me with
that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces, sifted her, and
separated her failings; I studied em and got em by rote. The
Catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes one day or other
to hate her heartily: to which end I so used myself to think of em,
that at length, contrary to my design and expectation, they gave me
every hour less and less disturbance; till in a few days it became
habitual to me to remember em without being displeased. They are now
grown as familiar to me as my own frailties; and, in all probability,
in a little time longer I shall like em as well.]

[Footnote 3: The name was commonly believed to be Rivers, when this Paper was published.]

* * * * *

No. 205. Thursday, October 25, 1711. Addison.

Decipimur specie recti

Hor.

When I meet with any vicious Character that is not generally known, in order to prevent its doing Mischief, I draw it at length, and set it up as a Scarecrow; by which means I do not only make an Example of the Person to whom it belongs, but give Warning to all Her Majesty's Subjects, that they may not suffer by it. Thus, to change the [Allusion,[1]] I have marked out several of the Shoals and Quicksands of Life, and am continually employed in discovering those [which [2]] are still concealed, in order to keep the Ignorant and Unwary from running upon them. It is with this Intention that I publish the following Letter, which brings to light some Secrets of this Nature.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

There are none of your Speculations which I read over with greater
Delight, than those which are designed for the Improvement of our Sex.
You have endeavoured to correct our unreasonable Fears and
Superstitions, in your Seventh and Twelfth Papers; our Fancy for
Equipage, in your Fifteenth; our Love of Puppet-Shows, in your
Thirty-First; our Notions of Beauty, in your Thirty-Third; our
Inclination for Romances, in your Thirty-Seventh; our Passion for
_French_ Fopperies, in your Forty-Fifth; our Manhood and Party-zeal,
in your Fifty-Seventh; our Abuse of Dancing, in your Sixty-Sixth and
Sixty-Seventh; our Levity, in your Hundred and Twenty-Eighth; our Love
of Coxcombs, in your Hundred and Fifty-Fourth, and Hundred and
Fifty-Seventh; our Tyranny over the Henpeckt, in your Hundred and
Seventy-Sixth. You have described the _Pict_ in your Forty-first; the
Idol, in your Seventy-Third; the Demurrer, in your Eighty-Ninth; the
Salamander, in your Hundred and Ninety-Eighth. You have likewise taken
to pieces our Dress, and represented to us the Extravagancies we are
often guilty of in that Particular. You have fallen upon our Patches,
in your Fiftieth and Eighty-First; our Commodes, in your
Ninety-Eighth; our Fans in your Hundred and Second; our Riding Habits
in your Hundred and Fourth; our Hoop-petticoats, in your Hundred and
Twenty-Seventh; besides a great many little Blemishes which you have
touched upon in your several other Papers, and in those many Letters
that are scattered up and down your Works. At the same Time we must
own, that the Compliments you pay our Sex are innumerable, and that
those very Faults which you represent in us, are neither black in
themselves nor, as you own, universal among us. But, Sir, it is plain
that these your Discourses are calculated for none but the fashionable
Part of Womankind, and for the Use of those who are rather indiscreet
than vicious. But, Sir, there is a Sort of Prostitutes in the lower
Part of our Sex, who are a Scandal to us, and very well deserve to
fall under your Censure. I know it would debase your Paper too much to
enter into the Behaviour of these Female Libertines; but as your
Remarks on some Part of it would be a doing of Justice to several
Women of Virtue and Honour, whose Reputations suffer by it, I hope you
will not think it improper to give the Publick some Accounts of this
Nature. You must know, Sir, I am provoked to write you this Letter by
the Behaviour of an infamous Woman, who having passed her Youth in a
most shameless State of Prostitution, is now one of those who gain
their Livelihood by seducing others, that are younger than themselves,
and by establishing a criminal Commerce between the two Sexes. Among
several of her Artifices to get Money, she frequently perswades a vain
young Fellow, that such a Woman of Quality, or such a celebrated
Toast, entertains a secret Passion for him, and wants nothing but an
Opportunity of revealing it: Nay, she has gone so far as to write
Letters in the Name of a Woman of Figure, to borrow Money of one of
these foolish _Roderigos_, [3] which she has afterwards appropriated
to her own Use. In the mean time, the Person who has lent the Money,
has thought a Lady under Obligations to him, who scarce knew his Name;
and wondered at her Ingratitude when he has been with her, that she
has not owned the Favour, though at the same time he was too much a
Man of Honour to put her in mind of it.

When this abandoned Baggage meets with a Man who has Vanity enough to
give Credit to Relations of this nature, she turns him to very good
Account, by repeating Praises that were never uttered, and delivering
Messages that were never sent. As the House of this shameless Creature
is frequented by several Foreigners, I have heard of another Artifice,
out of which she often raises Money. The Foreigner sighs after some
_British_ Beauty, whom he only knows by Fame: Upon which she promises,
if he can be secret, to procure him a Meeting. The Stranger, ravished
at his good Fortune, gives her a Present, and in a little time is
introduced to some imaginary Title; for you must know that this
cunning Purveyor has her Representatives upon this Occasion, of some
of the finest Ladies in the Kingdom. By this Means, as I am informed,
it is usual enough to meet with a German Count in foreign Countries,
that shall make his Boasts of Favours he has received from Women of
the highest Ranks, and the most unblemished Characters. Now, Sir, what
Safety is there for a Woman's Reputation, when a Lady may be thus
prostituted as it were by Proxy, and be reputed an unchaste Woman; as
the Hero in the ninth Book of _Dryden's_ Virgil is looked upon as a
Coward, because the Phantom which appeared in his Likeness ran away
from _Turnus?_ You may depend upon what I relate to you to be Matter
of Fact, and the Practice of more than one of these female Pandars. If
you print this Letter, I may give you some further Accounts of this
vicious Race of Women.
_Your humble Servant,_
BELVIDERA.

I shall add two other Letters on different Subjects to fill up my Paper.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I am a Country Clergyman, and hope you will lend me your Assistance
in ridiculing some little Indecencies which cannot so properly be
exposed from the Pulpit.

A Widow Lady, who straggled this Summer from _London_ into my Parish
for the Benefit of the Air, as she says, appears every _Sunday_ at
Church with many fashionable Extravagancies, to the great Astonishment
of my Congregation.

But what gives us the most Offence is her theatrical Manner of
Singing the Psalms. She introduces above fifty _Italian_ Airs into the
hundredth Psalm, and whilst we begin _All People_ in the old solemn
Tune of our Forefathers, she in a quite different Key runs Divisions
on the Vowels, and adorns them with the Graces of _Nicolini_; if she
meets with Eke or Aye, which are frequent in the Metre of _Hopkins_
and _Sternhold_,[4] we are certain to hear her quavering them half a
Minute after us to some sprightly Airs of the Opera.