Chapter XLIX: Introduction (49)

The Correspondent is desir'd to say which Cheek the Offender turned to him.

[Footnote 1:

Ubi visus eris nostra medicabilis arte
Fac monitis fugias otia prima meis.

Ovid. Rem. Am.]

[Footnote 2: [it]]

* * * * *

_ADVERTISEMENT_.

From the Parish-Vestry, _January_ 9.

_All Ladies who come to Church in the New-fashioned Hoods,
are desired to be there before Divine Service begins,
lest they divert the Attention of the Congregation._

RALPH.

* * * * *

No. 273. Saturday, January 12, 1712. Addison.

Notandi sunt tibi Mores.

Hor.

Having examined the Action of _Paradise Lost_, let us in the next place consider the Actors. [This is _Aristotle's_ Method of considering, first the Fable, and secondly [1]] the Manners; or, as we generally call them in _English_, the Fable and the Characters.

_Homer_ has excelled all the Heroic Poets that ever wrote, in the Multitude and Variety of his Characters. Every God that is admitted into this Poem, acts a Part which would have been suitable to no other Deity. His Princes are as much distinguished by their Manners, as by their Dominions; and even those among them, whose Characters seem wholly made up of Courage, differ from one another as to the particular kinds of Courage in which they excel. In short, there is scarce a Speech or Action in the _Iliad_, which the Reader may not ascribe to the Person that speaks or acts, without seeing his Name at the Head of it.

_Homer_ does not only outshine all other Poets in the Variety, but also in the Novelty of his Characters. He has introduced among his _Grecian_ Princes a Person who had lived thrice the Age of Man, and conversed with _Theseus, Hercules, Polyphemus_, and the first Race of Heroes. His principal Actor is the [Son [2]] of a Goddess, not to mention the [Offspring of other Deities, who have [3]] likewise a Place in his Poem, and the venerable _Trojan_ Prince, who was the Father of so many Kings and Heroes. There is in these several Characters of _Homer_, a certain Dignity as well as Novelty, which adapts them in a more peculiar manner to the Nature of an Heroic Poem. Tho at the same time, to give them the greater Variety, he has described a _Vulcan_, that is a Buffoon among his Gods, and a _Thersites_ among his Mortals.

_Virgil_ falls infinitely short of _Homer_ in the Characters of his Poem, both as to their Variety and Novelty. _Æneas_ is indeed a perfect Character, but as for _Achates_, tho he is stiled the Heros Friend, he does nothing in the whole Poem which may deserve that Title. _Gyas_, _Mnesteus_, _Sergestus_ and _Cloanthus_, are all of them Men of the same Stamp and Character.

--_Fortemque Gyan, fortemque Cloanthum._

There are indeed several very Natural Incidents on the Part of _Ascanius_; as that of _Dido_ cannot be sufficiently admired. I do not see any thing new or particular in _Turnus_. _Pallas_ and _Evander_ are [remote] Copies of _Hector_ and _Priam_, as _Lausus_ and _Mezentius_ are almost Parallels to _Pallas_ and _Evander_. The Characters of _Nisus_ and _Eurialus_ are beautiful, but common. [We must not forget the Parts of _Sinon_, _Camilla_, and some few others, which are fine Improvements on the _Greek_ Poet.] In short, there is neither that Variety nor Novelty in the Persons of the _Æneid_, which we meet with in those of the _Iliad_.

If we look into the Characters of _Milton_, we shall find that he has introduced all the Variety [his Fable [4]] was capable of receiving. The whole Species of Mankind was in two Persons at the Time to which the Subject of his Poem is confined. We have, however, four distinct Characters in these two Persons. We see Man and Woman in the highest Innocence and Perfection, and in the most abject State of Guilt and Infirmity. The two last Characters are, indeed, very common and obvious, but the two first are not only more magnificent, but more new [5] than any Characters either in _Virgil_ or _Homer_, or indeed in the whole Circle of Nature.

_Milton_ was so sensible of this Defect in the Subject of his Poem, and of the few Characters it would afford him, that he has brought into it two Actors of a Shadowy and Fictitious Nature, in the Persons of _Sin_ and _Death_, [6] by which means he has [wrought into [7]] the Body of his Fable a very beautiful and well-invented Allegory. But notwithstanding the Fineness of this Allegory may attone for it in some measure; I cannot think that Persons of such a Chymerical Existence are proper Actors in an Epic Poem; because there is not that measure of Probability annexed to them, which is requisite in Writings of this kind, [as I shall shew more at large hereafter].

_Virgil_ has, indeed, admitted Fame as an Actress in the _Æneid_, but the Part she acts is very short, and none of the most admired Circumstances in that Divine Work. We find in Mock-Heroic Poems, particularly in the _Dispensary_ and the _Lutrin_ [8] several Allegorical Persons of this Nature which are very beautiful in those Compositions, and may, perhaps, be used as an Argument, that the Authors of them were of Opinion, [such [9]] Characters might have a Place in an Epic Work. For my own part, I should be glad the Reader would think so, for the sake of the Poem I am now examining, and must further add, that if such empty unsubstantial Beings may be ever made use of on this Occasion, never were any more nicely imagined, and employed in more proper Actions, than those of which I am now speaking.

Another Principal Actor in this Poem is the great Enemy of Mankind. The Part of _Ulysses_ in _Homers Odyssey_ is very much admired by _Aristotle_, [10] as perplexing that Fable with very agreeable Plots and Intricacies, not only by the many Adventures in his Voyage, and the Subtility of his Behaviour, but by the various Concealments and Discoveries of his Person in several Parts of that Poem. But the Crafty Being I have now mentioned, makes a much longer Voyage than _Ulysses_, puts in practice many more Wiles and Stratagems, and hides himself under a greater Variety of Shapes and Appearances, all of which are severally detected, to the great Delight and Surprize of the Reader.

We may likewise observe with how much Art the Poet has varied several Characters of the Persons that speak to his infernal Assembly. On the contrary, how has he represented the whole Godhead exerting it self towards Man in its full Benevolence under the Three-fold Distinction of a Creator, a Redeemer and a Comforter!

Nor must we omit the Person of _Raphael_, who amidst his Tenderness and Friendship for Man, shews such a Dignity and Condescension in all his Speech and Behaviour, as are suitable to a Superior Nature. [The Angels are indeed as much diversified in _Milton_, and distinguished by their proper Parts, as the Gods are in _Homer_ or _Virgil_. The Reader will find nothing ascribed to _Uriel, Gabriel, Michael,_ or _Raphael_, which is not in a particular manner suitable to their respective Characters.]

There is another Circumstance in the principal Actors of the _Iliad_ and _Æneid_, which gives a [peculiar [11]] Beauty to those two Poems, and was therefore contrived with very great Judgment. I mean the Authors having chosen for their Heroes, Persons who were so nearly related to the People for whom they wrote. _Achilles_ was a Greek, and _Æneas_ the remote Founder of _Rome_. By this means their Countrymen (whom they principally proposed to themselves for their Readers) were particularly attentive to all the Parts of their Story, and sympathized with their Heroes in all their Adventures. A _Roman_ could not but rejoice in the Escapes, Successes and Victories of _Æneas_, and be grieved at any Defeats, Misfortunes or Disappointments that befel him; as a Greek_ must have had the same Regard for Achilles_. And it is plain, that each of those Poems have lost this great Advantage, among those Readers to whom their Heroes are as Strangers, or indifferent Persons.

_Milton's_ Poem is admirable in this respect, since it is impossible for any of its Readers, whatever Nation, Country or People he may belong to, not to be related to the Persons who are the principal Actors in it; but what is still infinitely more to its Advantage, the principal Actors in this Poem are not only our Progenitors, but our Representatives. We have an actual Interest in every thing they do, and no less than our utmost Happiness is concerned, and lies at Stake in all their Behaviour.

I shall subjoin as a Corollary to the foregoing Remark, an admirable Observation out of _Aristotle_, which hath been very much misrepresented in the Quotations of some Modern Criticks.

If a Man of perfect and consummate Virtue falls into a Misfortune, it
raises our Pity, but not our Terror, because we do not fear that it
may be our own Case, who do not resemble the Suffering Person. But as
that great Philosopher adds, If we see a Man of Virtue mixt with
Infirmities, fall into any Misfortune, it does not only raise our Pity
but our Terror; because we are afraid that the like Misfortunes may
happen to our selves, who resemble the Character of the Suffering
Person.

I shall take another Opportunity to observe, that a Person of an absolute and consummate Virtue should never be introduced in Tragedy, and shall only remark in this Place, that the foregoing Observation of _Aristotle_ [12] tho it may be true in other Occasions, does not hold in this; because in the present Case, though the Persons who fall into Misfortune are of the most perfect and consummate Virtue, it is not to be considered as what may possibly be, but what actually is our own Case; since we are embarked with them on the same Bottom, and must be Partakers of their Happiness or Misery.

In this, and some other very few Instances, _Aristotle's_ Rules for Epic Poetry (which he had drawn from his Reflections upon _Homer_) cannot be supposed to quadrate exactly with the Heroic Poems which have been made since his Time; since it is plain his Rules would [still have been [13]] more perfect, could he have perused the _Æneid_ which was made some hundred Years after his Death.

_In my next, I shall go through other Parts of_ Milton's _Poem; and hope that what I shall there advance, as well as what I have already written, will not only serve as a Comment upon_ Milton, _but upon_ Aristotle.

L.

[Footnote 1: [These are what Aristotle means by the Fable and &c.]]

[Footnote 2: [Offspring]]

[Footnote 3: [Son of Aurora who has]]

[Footnote 4: [that his Poem]]

[Footnote 5: It was especially for the novelty of _Paradise Lost_, that John Dennis had in 1704 exalted Milton above the ancients. In putting forward a prospectus of a large projected work upon the Grounds of Criticism in Poetry, he gave as a specimen of the character of his work, the substance of what would be said in the beginning of the Criticism upon Milton. Here he gave Milton supremacy on ground precisely opposite to that chosen by Addison. He described him as

one of the greatest and most daring Genius's that has appear'd in the
World, and who has made his country a glorious present of the most
lofty, but most irregular Poem, that has been produc'd by the Mind of
Man. That great Man had a desire to give the World something like an
Epick Poem; but he resolv'd at the same time to break thro the Rules
of Aristotle. Not that he was ignorant of them, or contemned them....
Milton was the first who in the space of almost 4000 years resolv'd
for his Country's Honour and his own, to present the World with an
Original Poem; that is to say, a Poem that should have his own
thoughts, his own images, and his own spirit. In order to this he was
resolved to write a Poem, that, by virtue of its extraordinary
Subject, cannot so properly be said to be against the Rules as it may
be affirmed to be above them all ... We shall now shew for what
Reasons the choice of Milton's Subject, as it set him free from the
obligation which he lay under to the Poetical Laws, so it necessarily
threw him upon new Thoughts, new Images, and an Original Spirit. In
the next place we shall shew that his Thoughts, his Images, and by
consequence too, his Spirit are actually new, and different from those
of Homer and Virgil. Thirdly, we shall shew, that besides their
Newness, they have vastly the Advantage of _Homer and Virgil_.]

[Footnote 6: Paradise Lost, Book II.]

[Footnote 7: interwoven in]

[Footnote 8: Sir Samuel Garth in his _Dispensary_, a mock-heroic poem upon a dispute, in 1696, among doctors over the setting up of a Dispensary in a room of the College of Physicians for relief of the sick poor, houses the God of Sloth within the College, and outside, among other allegories, personifies Disease as a Fury to whom the enemies of the Dispensary offer libation. Boileau in his _Lutrin_ a mock-heroic poem written in 1673 on a dispute between two chief personages of the chapter of a church in Paris, la Sainte Chapelle, as to the position of a pulpit, had with some minor allegory, chiefly personified Discord, and made her enter into the form of an old precentor, very much as in Garths poem the Fury Disease

Shrill Colons person took,
In morals loose, but most precise in look.]

[Footnote 9: [that such]]

[Footnote 10: Poetics II. § 17; III. §6.]

[Footnote 11: [particular]]

[Footnote 12: 1 Poetics II. § ii. But Addison misquotes the first clause. Aristotle says that when a wholly virtuous man falls from prosperity into adversity, this is neither terrible _nor piteous_, but ([Greek: miaron]) shocking. Then he adds that our pity is _excited_ by undeserved misfortune, and our terror by some resemblance between the sufferer and ourselves.]

[Footnote 13: [have been still]]

* * * * *

No. 274. Monday, January 14, 1712. Steele.

Audire est operæ pretium, procedere recte
Qui moechis non vultis.

Hor.

I have upon several Occasions (that have occurred since I first took into my Thoughts the present State of Fornication) weighed with my self, in behalf of guilty Females, the Impulses of Flesh and Blood, together with the Arts and Gallantries of crafty Men; and reflect with some Scorn that most Part of what we in our Youth think gay and polite, is nothing else but an Habit of indulging a Pruriency that Way. It will cost some Labour to bring People to so lively a Sense of this, as to recover the manly Modesty in the Behaviour of my Men Readers, and the bashful Grace in the Faces of my Women; but in all Cases which come into Debate, there are certain things previously to be done before we can have a true Light into the Subject Matter; therefore it will, in the first Place, be necessary to consider the impotent Wenchers and industrious Haggs, who are supplied with, and are constantly supplying new Sacrifices to the Devil of Lust. You are to know then, if you are so happy as not to know it already, that the great Havock which is made in the Habitations of Beauty and Innocence, is committed by such as can only lay waste and not enjoy the Soil. When you observe the present State of Vice and Virtue, the Offenders are such as one would think should have no Impulse to what they are pursuing; as in Business, you see sometimes Fools pretend to be Knaves, so in Pleasure, you will find old Men set up for Wenchers. This latter sort of Men are the great Basis and Fund of Iniquity in the Kind we are speaking of: You shall have an old rich Man often receive Scrawls from the several Quarters of the Town, with Descriptions of the new Wares in their Hands, if he will please to send Word when he will be waited on. This Interview is contrived, and the Innocent is brought to such Indecencies as from Time to Time banish Shame and raise Desire. With these Preparatives the Haggs break their Wards by little and little, till they are brought to lose all Apprehensions of what shall befall them in the Possession of younger Men. It is a common Postscript of an Hagg to a young Fellow whom she invites to a new Woman, _She has, I assure you, seen none but old Mr. Such-a-one_. It pleases the old Fellow that the Nymph is brought to him unadorned, and from his Bounty she is accommodated with enough to dress her for other Lovers. This is the most ordinary Method of bringing Beauty and Poverty into the Possession of the Town: But the particular Cases of kind Keepers, skilful Pimps, and all others who drive a separate Trade, and are not in the general Society or Commerce of Sin, will require distinct Consideration. At the same time that we are thus severe on the Abandoned, we are apt to represent the Case of others with that Mitigation as the Circumstances demand. Calling Names does no Good; to speak worse of any thing than it deserves, does only take off from the Credit of the Accuser, and has implicitly the Force of an Apology in the Behalf of the Person accused. We shall therefore, according as the Circumstances differ, vary our Appellations of these Criminals: Those who offend only against themselves, and are not Scandals to Society, but out of Deference to the sober Part of the World, have so much Good left in them as to be ashamed, must not be huddled in the common Word due to the worst of Women; but Regard is to be had to their Circumstances when they fell, to the uneasy Perplexity under which they lived under senseless and severe Parents, to the Importunity of Poverty, to the Violence of a Passion in its Beginning well grounded, and all other Alleviations which make unhappy Women resign the Characteristick of their Sex, Modesty. To do otherwise than thus, would be to act like a Pedantick Stoick, who thinks all Crimes alike, and not like an impartial SPECTATOR, who looks upon them with all the Circumstances that diminish or enhance the Guilt. I am in Hopes, if this Subject be well pursued, Women will hereafter from their Infancy be treated with an Eye to their future State in the World; and not have their Tempers made too untractable from an improper Sourness or Pride, or too complying from Familiarity or Forwardness contracted at their own Houses. After these Hints on this Subject, I shall end this Paper with the following genuine Letter; and desire all who think they may be concerned in future Speculations on this Subject, to send in what they have to say for themselves for some Incidents in their Lives, in order to have proper Allowances made for their Conduct.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR, _January_ 5, 1711.

The Subject of your Yesterdays Paper is of so great Importance, and
the thorough handling of it may be so very useful to the Preservation
of many an innocent young Creature, that I think every one is obliged
to furnish you with what Lights he can, to expose the pernicious Arts
and Practices of those unnatural Women called Bawds. In order to this
the enclosed is sent you, which is _verbatim_ the Copy of a Letter
written by a Bawd of Figure in this Town to a noble Lord. I have
concealed the Names of both, my Intention being not to expose the
Persons but the Thing.
_I am,
SIR,
Your humble Servant_.

_My Lord_,
I having a great Esteem for your Honour, and a better Opinion of
you than of any of the Quality, makes me acquaint you of an Affair
that I hope will oblige you to know. I have a Niece that came to
Town about a Fortnight ago. Her Parents being lately dead she came
to me, expecting to a found me in so good a Condition as to a set
her up in a Milliners Shop. Her Father gave Fourscore Pounds with
her for five Years: Her Time is out, and she is not Sixteen; as
pretty a black Gentlewoman as ever you saw, a little Woman, which I
know your Lordship likes: well shaped, and as fine a Complection for
Red and White as ever I saw; I doubt not but your Lordship will be
of the same Opinion. She designs to go down about a Month hence
except I can provide for her, which I cannot at present. Her Father
was one with whom all he had died with him, so there is four
Children left destitute; so if your Lordship thinks fit to make an
Appointment where I shall wait on you with my Niece, by a Line or
two, I stay for your Answer; for I have no Place fitted up since I
left my House, fit to entertain your Honour. I told her she should
go with me to see a Gentleman a very good Friend of mine; so I
desire you to take no Notice of my Letter by reason she is ignorant
of the Ways of the Town. My Lord, I desire if you meet us to come
alone; for upon my Word and Honour you are the first that ever I
mentioned her to. So I remain,

_Your Lordships
Most humble Servant to Command._

I beg of you to burn it when you've read it.

T.

* * * * *

No. 275. Tuesday, January 15, 1712. Addison.

--tribus Anticyris caput insanabile--

Juv.

I was Yesterday engaged in an Assembly of Virtuosos, where one of them produced many curious Observations which he had lately made in the Anatomy of an Human Body. Another of the Company communicated to us several wonderful Discoveries, which he had also made on the same Subject, by the Help of very fine Glasses. This gave Birth to a great Variety of uncommon Remarks, and furnished Discourse for the remaining Part of the Day.

The different Opinions which were started on this Occasion, presented to my Imagination so many new Ideas, that by mixing with those which were already there, they employed my Fancy all the last Night, and composed a very wild Extravagant Dream.

I was invited, methoughts, to the Dissection of a _Beaus Head_ and of a _Coquets Heart_, which were both of them laid on a Table before us. An imaginary Operator opened the first with a great deal of Nicety, which, upon a cursory and superficial View, appeared like the Head of another Man; but upon applying our Glasses to it, we made a very odd Discovery, namely, that what we looked upon as Brains, were not such in reality, but an Heap of strange Materials wound up in that Shape and Texture, and packed together with wonderful Art in the several Cavities of the Skull. For, as _Homer_ tells us, that the Blood of the Gods is not real Blood, but only something like it; so we found that the Brain of a Beau is not real Brain, but only something like it.

The _Pineal Gland_, which many of our Modern Philosophers suppose to be the Seat of the Soul, smelt very strong of Essence and Orange-flower Water, and was encompassed with a kind of Horny Substance, cut into a thousand little Faces or Mirrours, which were imperceptible to the naked Eye, insomuch that the Soul, if there had been any here, must have been always taken up in contemplating her own Beauties.

We observed a long _Antrum_ or Cavity in the _Sinciput_, that was filled with Ribbons, Lace and Embroidery, wrought together in a most curious Piece of Network, the Parts of which were likewise imperceptible to the naked Eye. Another of these _Antrums_ or Cavities was stuffed with invisible Billetdoux, Love-Letters, pricked Dances, and other Trumpery of the same Nature. In another we found a kind of Powder, which set the whole Company a Sneezing, and by the Scent discovered it self to be right _Spanish_. The several other Cells were stored with Commodities of the same kind, of which it would be tedious to give the Reader an exact Inventory.

There was a large Cavity on each side of the Head, which I must not omit. That on the right Side was filled with Fictions, Flatteries, and Falshoods, Vows, Promises, and Protestations; that on the left with Oaths and Imprecations. There issued out a _Duct_ from each of these Cells, which ran into the Root of the Tongue, where both joined together, and passed forward in one common _Duct_ to the Tip of it. We discovered several little Roads or Canals running from the Ear into the Brain, and took particular care to trace them out through their several Passages. One of them extended itself to a Bundle of Sonnets and little musical Instruments. Others ended in several Bladders which were filled either with Wind or Froth. But the latter Canal entered into a great Cavity of the Skull, from whence there went another Canal into the Tongue. This great Cavity was filled with a kind of Spongy Substance, which the _French_ Anatomists call _Galimatias_, and the _English_, Nonsense.

The Skins of the Forehead were extremely tough and thick, and, what very much surprized us, had not in them any single Blood-Vessel that we were able to discover, either with or without our Glasses; from whence we concluded, that the Party when alive must have been entirely deprived of the Faculty of Blushing.

The _Os Cribriforme_ was exceedingly stuffed, and in some Places damaged with Snuff. We could not but take notice in particular of that small Muscle which is not often discovered in Dissections, and draws the Nose upwards, when it expresses the Contempt which the Owner of it has, upon seeing any thing he does not like, or hearing any thing he does not understand. I need not tell my learned Reader, this is that Muscle which performs the Motion so often mentioned by the _Latin_ Poets, when they talk of a Man's cocking his Nose, or playing the Rhinoceros.

We did not find any thing very remarkable in the Eye, saving only, that the _Musculi Amatorii_, or, as we may translate it into _English_, the _Ogling Muscles_, were very much worn and decayed with use; whereas on the contrary, the _Elevator_, or the Muscle which turns the Eye towards Heaven, did not appear to have been used at all.

I have only mentioned in this Dissection such new Discoveries as we were able to make, and have not taken any notice of those Parts which are to be met with in common Heads. As for the Skull, the Face, and indeed the whole outward Shape and Figure of the Head, we could not discover any Difference from what we observe in the Heads of other Men. We were informed, that the Person to whom this Head belonged, had passed for _a Man_ above five and thirty Years; during which time he Eat and Drank like other People, dressed well, talked loud, laught frequently, and on particular Occasions had acquitted himself tolerably at a Ball or an Assembly; to which one of the Company added, that a certain Knot of Ladies took him for a Wit. He was cut off in the Flower of his Age by the Blow of a Paring-Shovel, having been surprized by an eminent Citizen, as he was tendring some Civilities to his Wife.

When we had thoroughly examined this Head with all its Apartments, and its several kinds of Furniture, we put up the Brain, such as it was, into its proper Place, and laid it aside under a broad Piece of Scarlet Cloth, in order to be _prepared_, and kept in a great Repository of Dissections; our Operator telling us that the Preparation would not be so difficult as that of another Brain, for that he had observed several of the little Pipes and Tubes which ran through the Brain were already filled with a kind of Mercurial Substance, which he looked upon to be true Quick-Silver.

He applied himself in the next Place to the _Coquets Heart_, which he likewise laid open with great Dexterity. There occurred to us many Particularities in this Dissection; but being unwilling to burden my Readers Memory too much, I shall reserve this Subject for the Speculation of another Day.

L.

* * * * *

No. 276. Wednesday, January 16, 1712. Steele.

Errori nomen virtus posuisset honestum.

Hor.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,

I hope you have Philosophy enough to be capable of bearing the Mention
of your Faults. Your Papers which regard the fallen Part of the Fair
Sex, are, I think, written with an Indelicacy, which makes them
unworthy to be inserted in the Writings of a Moralist who knows the
World. I cannot allow that you are at Liberty to observe upon the
Actions of Mankind with the Freedom which you seem to resolve upon; at
least if you do, you should take along with you the Distinction of
Manners of the World, according to the Quality and Way of Life of the
Persons concerned. A Man of Breeding speaks of even Misfortune among
Ladies without giving it the most terrible Aspect it can bear: And
this Tenderness towards them, is much more to be preserved when you
speak of Vices. All Mankind are so far related, that Care is to be
taken, in things to which all are liable, you do not mention what
concerns one in Terms which shall disgust another. Thus to tell a rich
Man of the Indigence of a Kinsman of his, or abruptly inform a
virtuous Woman of the Lapse of one who till then was in the same
degree of Esteem with her self, is in a kind involving each of them in
some Participation of those Disadvantages. It is therefore expected
from every Writer, to treat his Argument in such a Manner, as is most
proper to entertain the sort of Readers to whom his Discourse is
directed. It is not necessary when you write to the Tea-table, that
you should draw Vices which carry all the Horror of Shame and
Contempt: If you paint an impertinent Self-love, an artful Glance, an
assumed Complection, you say all which you ought to suppose they can
possibly be guilty of. When you talk with this Limitation, you behave
your self so as that you may expect others in Conversation may second
your Raillery; but when you do it in a Stile which every body else
forbears in Respect to their Quality, they have an easy Remedy in
forbearing to read you, and hearing no more of their Faults. A Man
that is now and then guilty of an Intemperance is not to be called a
Drunkard; but the Rule of polite Raillery, is to speak of a Man's
Faults as if you loved him. Of this Nature is what was said by
_Cæsar_: When one was railing with an uncourtly Vehemence, and broke
out, What must we call him who was taken in an Intrigue with another
Man's Wife? Cæsar answered very gravely, _A careless Fellow_. This was
at once a Reprimand for speaking of a Crime which in those Days had
not the Abhorrence attending it as it ought, as well as an Intimation
that all intemperate Behaviour before Superiors loses its Aim, by
accusing in a Method unfit for the Audience. A Word to the Wise. All I
mean here to say to you is, That the most free Person of Quality can
go no further than being [a kind [1]] Woman; and you should never say
of a Man of Figure worse, than that he knows the World.

I am, SIR,
Your most humble Servant,
Francis Courtly.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
I am a Woman of an unspotted Reputation, and know nothing I have ever
done which should encourage such Insolence; but here was one the other
Day, and he was dressed like a Gentleman too, who took the Liberty to
name the Words Lusty Fellow in my Presence. I doubt not but you will
resent it in Behalf of,

SIR,
Your Humble Servant,
CELIA.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
You lately put out a dreadful Paper, wherein you promise a full
Account of the State of criminal Love; and call all the Fair who have
transgressed in that Kind by one very rude Name which I do not care to
repeat: But 1 desire to know of you whether I am or I am not of those?
My Case is as follows. I am kept by an old Batchelour, who took me so
young, that I knew not how he came by me: He is a Bencher of one of
the Inns of Court, a very gay healthy old Man; which is a lucky thing
for him, who has been, he tells me, a Scowrer, a Scamperer, a Breaker
of Windows, an Invader of Constables, in the Days of Yore when all
Dominion ended with the Day, and Males and Females met helter skelter,
and the Scowrers drove before them all who pretended to keep up Order
or Rule to the Interruption of Love and Honour. This is his way of
Talk, for he is very gay when he visits me; but as his former
Knowledge of the Town has alarmed him into an invincible Jealousy, he
keeps me in a pair of Slippers, neat Bodice, warm Petticoats, and my
own Hair woven in Ringlets, after a Manner, he says, he remembers. I
am not Mistress of one Farthing of Money, but have all Necessaries
provided for me, under the Guard of one who procured for him while he
had any Desires to gratify. I know nothing of a Wench's Life, but the
Reputation of it: I have a natural Voice, and a pretty untaught Step
in Dancing. His Manner is to bring an old Fellow who has been his
Servant from his Youth, and is gray-headed: This Man makes on the
Violin a certain Jiggish Noise to which I dance, and when that is over
I sing to him some loose Air, that has more Wantonness than Musick in
it. You must have seen a strange window'd House near _Hide-Park,_
which is so built that no one can look out of any of the Apartments;
my Rooms are after that manner, and I never see Man, Woman, or Child,
but in Company with the two Persons above-mentioned. He sends me in
all the Books, Pamphlets, Plays, Operas and Songs that come out; and
his utmost Delight in me as a Woman, is to talk over old Amours in my
Presence, to play with my Neck, say _the Time was_, give me a Kiss,
and bid me be sure to follow the Directions of my Guardian (the
above-mentioned Lady) and I shall never want. The Truth of my Case is,
I suppose, that I was educated for a Purpose he did not know he should
be unfit for when I came to Years. Now, Sir, what I ask of you, as a
Casuist, is to tell me how far in these Circumstances I am innocent,
though submissive; he guilty, though impotent?
_I am,
SIR,
Your constant Reader,_
PUCELLA.

_To the Man called the_ SPECTATOR.

_Friend,_
Forasmuch as at the Birth of thy Labour, thou didst promise upon thy
Word, that letting alone the Vanities that do abound, thou wouldst
only endeavour to strengthen the crooked Morals of this our _Babylon_,
I gave Credit to thy fair Speeches, and admitted one of thy Papers,
every Day save _Sunday_, into my House; for the Edification of my
Daughter _Tabitha_, and to the end that Susannah the Wife of my Bosom
might profit thereby. But alas, my Friend, I find that thou art a
Liar, and that the Truth is not in thee; else why didst thou in a
Paper which thou didst lately put forth, make mention of those vain
Coverings for the Heads of our Females, which thou lovest to liken
unto Tulips, and which are lately sprung up amongst us? Nay why didst
thou make mention of them in such a seeming, as if thou didst approve
the Invention, insomuch that my Daughter _Tabitha_ beginneth to wax
wanton, and to lust after these foolish Vanities? Surely thou dost see
with the Eyes of the Flesh. Verily therefore, unless thou dost
speedily amend and leave off following thine own Imaginations, I will
leave off thee.

_Thy Friend as hereafter thou dost demean thyself,_
Hezekiah Broadbrim.

T.

[Footnote 1: [an unkind]]

* * * * *

No. 277. Thursday, January 17, 1712. Budgell.

--fas est et ab hoste doceri.

Virg.

I presume I need not inform the Polite Part of my Readers, that before our Correspondence with _France_ was unhappily interrupted by the War, our Ladies had all their Fashions from thence; which the Milliners took care to furnish them with by means of a Jointed Baby, that came regularly over, once a Month, habited after the manner of the most Eminent Toasts in _Paris_.

I am credibly informed, that even in the hottest time of the War, the Sex made several Efforts, and raised large Contributions towards the Importation of this Wooden _Madamoiselle._

Whether the Vessel they set out was lost or taken, or whether its Cargo was seized on by the Officers of the Custom-house, as a piece of Contraband Goods, I have not yet been able to learn; it is, however, certain their first Attempts were without Success, to the no small Disappointment of our whole Female World; but as their Constancy and Application, in a matter of so great Importance, can never be sufficiently commended, I am glad to find that in Spight of all Opposition, they have at length carried their Point, of which I received Advice by the two following Letters.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
I am so great a Lover of whatever is _French_, that I lately
discarded an humble Admirer, because he neither spoke that Tongue, nor
drank Claret. I have long bewailed, in secret, the Calamities of my
Sex during the War, in all which time we have laboured under the
insupportable Inventions of _English_ Tire-Women, who, tho they
sometimes copy indifferently well, can never compose with that _Goút_
they do in _France_.

I was almost in Despair of ever more seeing a Model from that dear
Country, when last Sunday I over-heard a Lady, in the next Pew to me,
whisper another, that at the _Seven Stars_ in _King-street
Covent-garden_, there was a _Madamoiselle_ compleatly dressed just
come from _Paris_.

I was in the utmost Impatience during the remaining part of the
Service, and as soon as ever it was over, having learnt the Millener's
_Addresse_, I went directly to her House in _King-street_, but was
told that the _French_ Lady was at a Person of Quality's in
_Pall-mall_, and would not be back again till very late that Night. I
was therefore obliged to renew my Visit very early this Morning, and
had then a full View of the dear Moppet from Head to Foot.

You cannot imagine, worthy Sir, how ridiculously I find we have all
been trussed up during the War, and how infinitely the _French_ Dress
excels ours.

The Mantua has no Leads in the Sleeves, and I hope we are not lighter
than the _French_ Ladies, so as to want that kind of Ballast; the
Petticoat has no Whale-bone; but fits with an Air altogether galant
and _degagé_: the _Coiffeure_ is inexpressibly pretty, and in short,
the whole Dress has a thousand Beauties in it, which I would not have
as yet made too publick.

I thought fit, however, to give this Notice, that you may not be
surprized at my appearing _à la mode de Paris_ on the next
Birth-Night. _I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant,_
Teraminta.

Within an Hour after I had read this Letter, I received another from the Owner of the Puppet.

SIR,
On Saturday last, being the 12th Instant, there arrived at my House
in _King-street, Covent-Garden_, a _French_ Baby for the Year 1712. I
have taken the utmost Care to have her dressed by the most celebrated
Tyre-women and Mantua-makers in _Paris_, and do not find that I have
any Reason to be sorry for the Expence I have been at in her Cloaths
and Importation: However, as I know no Person who is so good a Judge
of Dress as your self, if you please to call at my House in your Way
to the City, and take a View of her, I promise to amend whatever you
shall disapprove in your next Paper, before I exhibit her as a Pattern
to the Publick.
_I am, SIR,
Your most humble Admirer,
and most obedient Servant,_
Betty Cross-stitch.

As I am willing to do any thing in reason for the Service of my Country-women, and had much rather prevent Faults than find them, I went last Night to the House of the above-mentioned Mrs. _Cross-stitch_. As soon as I enter'd, the Maid of the Shop, who, I suppose, was prepared for my coming, without asking me any Questions, introduced me to the little Damsel, and ran away to call her Mistress.

The Puppet was dressed in a Cherry-coloured Gown and Petticoat, with a short working Apron over it, which discovered her Shape to the most Advantage. Her Hair was cut and divided very prettily, with several Ribbons stuck up and down in it. The Millener assured me, that her Complexion was such as was worn by all the Ladies of the best Fashion in _Paris_. Her Head was extreamly high, on which Subject having long since declared my Sentiments, I shall say nothing more to it at present. I was also offended at a small Patch she wore on her Breast, which I cannot suppose is placed there with any good Design.

Her Necklace was of an immoderate Length, being tied before in such a manner that the two Ends hung down to her Girdle; but whether these supply the Place of Kissing-Strings in our Enemy's Country, and whether our _British_ Ladies have any occasion for them, I shall leave to their serious Consideration.

After having observed the Particulars of her Dress, as I was taking a view of it altogether, the Shop-maid, who is a pert Wench, told me that _Mademoiselle_ had something very Curious in the tying of her Garters; but as I pay a due Respect even to a pair of Sticks when they are in Petticoats, I did not examine into that Particular.

Upon the whole I was well enough pleased with the Appearance of this gay Lady, and the more so because she was not Talkative, a Quality very rarely to be met with in the rest of her Countrywomen.

As I was taking my leave, the Millener farther informed me, that with the Assistance of a Watchmaker, who was her Neighbour, and the ingenious Mr. _Powell_, she had also contrived another Puppet, which by the help of several little Springs to be wound up within it, could move all its Limbs, and that she had sent it over to her Correspondent in _Paris_ to be taught the various Leanings and Bendings of the Head, the Risings of the Bosom, the Curtesy and Recovery, the genteel Trip, and the agreeable Jet, as they are now practised in the Court of _France_.

She added that she hoped she might depend upon having my Encouragement as soon as it arrived; but as this was a Petition of too great Importance to be answered _extempore_, I left her without a Reply, and made the best of my way to WILL. HONEYCOMBS Lodgings, without whose Advice I never communicate any thing to the Publick of this Nature.

X.

* * * * *

No. 278. Friday, January 18, 1712. Steele.

Sermones ego mallem
Repentes per humum.

Hor.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
_SIR_,

Your having done considerable Service in this great City, by
rectifying the Disorders of Families, and several Wives having
preferred your Advice and Directions to those of their Husbands,
emboldens me to apply to you at this Time. I am a Shop-keeper, and tho
but a young Man, I find by Experience that nothing but the utmost
Diligence both of Husband and Wife (among trading People) can keep
Affairs in any tolerable Order. My Wife at the Beginning of our
Establishment shewed her self very assisting to me in my Business as
much as could lie in her Way, and I have Reason to believe twas with
her Inclination; but of late she has got acquainted with a Schoolman,
who values himself for his great Knowledge in the _Greek_ Tongue. He
entertains her frequently in the Shop with Discourses of the Beauties
and Excellencies of that Language; and repeats to her several Passages
out of the _Greek_ Poets, wherein he tells her there is unspeakable
Harmony and agreeable Sounds that all other Languages are wholly
unacquainted with. He has so infatuated her with his Jargon, that
instead of using her former Diligence in the Shop, she now neglects
the Affairs of the House, and is wholly taken up with her Tutor in
learning by Heart Scraps of _Greek_, which she vents upon all
Occasions. She told me some Days ago, that whereas I use some _Latin_
Inscriptions in my Shop, she advised me with a great deal of Concern
to have them changed into _Greek;_ it being a Language less
understood, would be more conformable to the Mystery of my Profession;
that our good Friend would be assisting to us in this Work; and that a
certain Faculty of Gentlemen would find themselves so much obliged to
me, that they would infallibly make my Fortune: In short her frequent
Importunities upon this and other Impertinences of the like Nature
make me very uneasy; and if your Remonstrances have no more Effect
upon her than mine, I am afraid I shall be obliged to ruin my self to
procure her a Settlement at _Oxford_ with her Tutor, for she's already
too mad for _Bedlam_. Now, Sir, you see the Danger my Family is
exposed to, and the Likelihood of my Wife's becoming both troublesome
and useless, unless her reading her self in your Paper may make her
reflect. She is so very learned that I cannot pretend by Word of Mouth
to argue with her. She laughed out at your ending a Paper in _Greek_,
and said twas a Hint to Women of Literature, and very civil not to
translate it to expose them to the Vulgar. You see how it is with,

_SIR_,
_Your humble Servant_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
If you have that Humanity and Compassion in your Nature that you take
such Pains to make one think you have, you will not deny your Advice
to a distressed Damsel, who intends to be determined by your Judgment
in a Matter of great Importance to her. You must know then, There is
an agreeable young Fellow, to whose Person, Wit, and Humour no body
makes any Objection, that pretends to have been long in Love with me.
To this I must add, (whether it proceeds from the Vanity of my Nature,
or the seeming Sincerity of my Lover, I wont pretend to say) that I
verily believe he has a real Value for me; which if true, you'll allow
may justly augment his Merit for his Mistress. In short, I am so
sensible of his good Qualities, and what I owe to his Passion, that I
think I could sooner resolve to give up my Liberty to him than any
body else, were there not an Objection to be made to his Fortunes, in
regard they don't answer the utmost mine may expect, and are not
sufficient to secure me from undergoing the reproachful Phrase so
commonly used, That she has played the Fool. Now, tho I am one of
those few who heartily despise Equipage, Diamonds, and a Coxcomb, yet
since such opposite Notions from mine prevail in the World, even
amongst the best, and such as are esteemed the most prudent People, I
cant find in my Heart to resolve upon incurring the Censure of those
wise Folks, which I am conscious I shall do, if when I enter into a
married State, I discover a Thought beyond that of equalling, if not
advancing my Fortunes. Under this Difficulty I now labour, not being
in the least determined whether I shall be governed by the vain World,
and the frequent Examples I meet with, or hearken to the Voice of my
Lover, and the Motions I find in my Heart in favour of him. Sir, Your
Opinion and Advice in this Affair, is the only thing I know can turn
the Ballance; and which I earnestly intreat I may receive soon; for
till I have your Thoughts upon it, I am engaged not to give my Swain a
final Discharge.

Besides the particular Obligation you will lay on me, by giving this
Subject Room in one of your Papers, tis possible it may be of use to
some others of my Sex, who will be as grateful for the Favour as,
_SIR,
Your Humble Servant,_
Florinda.

P. S. _To tell you the Truth I am Married to Him already, but pray say
something to justify me._

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
You will forgive Us Professors of Musick if We make a second
Application to You, in order to promote our Design of exhibiting
Entertainments of Musick in _York-Buildings._ It is industriously
insinuated that Our Intention is to destroy Operas in General, but we
beg of you to insert this plain Explanation of our selves in your
Paper. Our Purpose is only to improve our Circumstances, by improving
the Art which we profess. We see it utterly destroyed at present; and
as we were the Persons who introduced Operas, we think it a groundless
Imputation that we should set up against the Opera in it self. What we
pretend to assert is, That the Songs of different Authors
injudiciously put together, and a Foreign Tone and Manner which are
expected in every thing now performed among us, has put Musick it self
to a stand; insomuch that the Ears of the People cannot now be
entertained with any thing but what has an impertinent Gayety, without
any just Spirit, or a Languishment of Notes, without any Passion or
common Sense. We hope those Persons of Sense and Quality who have done
us the Honour to subscribe, will not be ashamed of their Patronage
towards us, and not receive Impressions that patronising us is being
for or against the Opera, but truly promoting their own Diversions in
a more just and elegant Manner than has been hitherto performed. _We
are, SIR,
Your most humble Servants,_
Thomas Clayton.
Nicolino Haym.
Charles Dieupart. [1]

_There will be no Performances in_ York-buildings _till after that of the Subscription._

T.

[Footnote 1: See No. 258.]

* * * * *

No. 279. Saturday, January 19, 1712. Addison.

Reddere personæ scit convenientia cuique.

Hor.

We have already taken a general Survey of the Fable and Characters in _Milton's Paradise Lost_. The Parts which remain to be considered, according to _Aristotle's_ Method, are the _Sentiments_ and the _Language_. [1]

Before I enter upon the first of these, I must advertise my Reader, that it is my Design as soon as I have finished my general Reflections on these four several Heads, to give particular Instances out of the Poem which is now before us of Beauties and Imperfections which may be observed under each of them, as also of such other Particulars as may not properly fall under any of them. This I thought fit to premise, that the Reader may not judge too hastily of this Piece of Criticism, or look upon it as Imperfect, before he has seen the whole Extent of it.