Chapter LIX: Introduction (59)

[Footnote 2: See No. 324.]

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

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

Nullum me a labore reclinat otium.

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

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

L.

* * * * *

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

Ire tamen restat, Numa quo devenit et Ancus.

Hor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

L.

[Footnote 1:[an]]

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

Maxima debetur pueris reverentia.

Juv.

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

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

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

SIR,
Your most obedient humble Servant,
S. P.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
I am a Lad of about fourteen. I find a mighty Pleasure in Learning. I
have been at the Latin School four Years. I don't know I ever play'd
[truant, [1]] or neglected any Task my Master set me in my Life. I
think on what I read in School as I go home at noon and night, and so
intently, that I have often gone half a mile out of my way, not
minding whither I went. Our Maid tells me, she often hears me talk
Latin in my sleep. And I dream two or three Nights in the Week I am
reading Juvenal and Homer. My Master seems as well pleased with my
Performances as any Boys in the same Class. I think, if I know my own
Mind, I would chuse rather to be a Scholar, than a Prince without
Learning. I have a very [good [2]] affectionate Father; but tho very
rich, yet so mighty near, that he thinks much of the Charges of my
Education. He often tells me, he believes my Schooling will ruin him;
that I cost him God-knows what in Books. I tremble to tell him I want
one. I am forced to keep my Pocket-Mony, and lay it out for a Book,
now and then, that he don't know of. He has order'd my Master to buy
no more Books for me, but says he will buy them himself. I asked him
for Horace tother Day, and he told me in a Passion, he did not
believe I was fit for it, but only my Master had a Mind to make him
think I had got a great way in my Learning. I am sometimes a Month
behind other Boys in getting the Books my Master gives Orders for. All
the Boys in the School, but I, have the Classick Authors in usum
Delphini, gilt and letter'd on the Back. My Father is often reckoning
up how long I have been at School, and tells me he fears I do little
good. My Fathers Carriage so discourages me, that he makes me grow
dull and melancholy. My Master wonders what is the matter with me; I
am afraid to tell him; for he is a Man that loves to encourage
Learning, and would be apt to chide my Father, and, not knowing my
Fathers Temper, may make him worse. Sir, if you have any Love for
Learning, I beg you would give me some Instructions in this case, and
persuade Parents to encourage their Children when they find them
diligent and desirous of Learning. I have heard some Parents say, they
would do any thing for their Children, if they would but mind their
Learning: I would be glad to be in their place. Dear Sir, pardon my
Boldness. If you will but consider and pity my case, I will pray for
your Prosperity as long as I live.
London, March 2,1711.
Your humble Servant,

James Discipulus.

March the 18th.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

The ostentation you showed yesterday would have been pardonable had
you provided better for the two Extremities of your Paper, and placed
in one the letter R., in the other Nescio quid meditans nugarum, et
lotus in illis. A Word to the wise.

I am your most humble Servant,
T. Trash.

According to the Emendation of the above Correspondent, the Reader is desired in the Paper of the 17th to read R. for T. [3]

T.

[Footnote 1: at truant]

[Footnote 2: loving]

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No. 331. Thursday, March 20, 1712. Budgell.

Stolidam praebet tibi vellere barbam.

Pers.

When I was last with my Friend Sir ROGER in Westminster-Abby, I observed that he stood longer than ordinary before the Bust of a venerable old Man. I was at a loss to guess the Reason of it, when after some time he pointed to the Figure, and asked me if I did not think that our Fore-fathers looked much wiser in their Beards than we do without them? For my part, says he, when I am walking in my Gallery in the Country, and see my Ancestors, who many of them died before they were of my Age, I cannot forbear regarding them as so many old Patriarchs, and at the same time looking upon myself as an idle Smock-fac'd young Fellow. I love to see your Abrahams, your Isaacs, and your Jacob's, as we have them in old Pieces of Tapestry, with Beards below their Girdles, that cover half the Hangings. The Knight added, if I would recommend Beards in one of my Papers, and endeavour to restore human Faces to their Ancient Dignity, that upon a Months warning he would undertake to lead up the Fashion himself in a pair of Whiskers.

I smiled at my Friends Fancy; but after we parted, could not forbear reflecting on the Metamorphoses our Faces have undergone in this Particular.

The Beard, conformable to the Notion of my Friend Sir ROGER, was for many Ages look'd upon as the Type of Wisdom. Lucian more than once rallies the Philosophers of his Time, who endeavour'd to rival one another in Beard; and represents a learned Man who stood for a Professorship in Philosophy, as unqualify'd for it by the Shortness of his Beard.

Ælian, in his Account of Zoilus, the pretended Critick, who wrote against Homer and Plato, and thought himself wiser than all who had gone before him, tells us that this Zoilus had a very long Beard that hung down upon his Breast, but no Hair upon his Head, which he always kept close shaved, regarding, it seems, the Hairs of his Head as so many Suckers, which if they had been suffer'd to grow, might have drawn away the Nourishment from his Chin, and by that means have starved his Beard.

I have read somewhere that one of the Popes refus'd to accept an Edition of a Saints Works, which were presented to him, because the Saint in his Effigies before the Book, was drawn without a Beard.

We see by these Instances what Homage the World has formerly paid to Beards; and that a Barber was not then allow'd to make those Depredations on the Faces of the Learned, which have been permitted him of later Years.

Accordingly several wise Nations have been so extremely Jealous of the least Ruffle offer'd to their Beard, that they seem to have fixed the Point of Honour principally in that Part. The Spaniards were wonderfully tender in this Particular.

Don Quevedo, in his third Vision on the Last Judgment, has carry'd the Humour very far, when he tells us that one of his vain-glorious Countrymen, after having receiv'd Sentence, was taken into custody by a couple of evil Spirits; but that his Guides happening to disorder his Mustachoes, they were forced to recompose them with a Pair of Curling-irons before they could get him to file off.

If we look into the History of our own Nation, we shall find that the Beard flourish'd in the Saxon Heptarchy, but was very much discourag'd under the Norman Line. It shot out, however, from time to time, in several Reigns under different Shapes. The last Effort it made seems to have been in Queen Marys Days, as the curious Reader may find, if he pleases to peruse the Figures of Cardinal Poole, and Bishop Gardiner; tho at the same time, I think it may be question'd, if Zeal against Popery has not induced our Protestant Painters to extend the Beards of these two Persecutors beyond their natural Dimensions, in order to make them appear the more terrible.

I find but few Beards worth taking notice of in the Reign of King James the First.

During the Civil Wars there appeared one, which makes too great a Figure in Story to be passed over in Silence; I mean that of the redoubted Hudibras, an Account of which Butler has transmitted to Posterity in the following Lines:

His tawny Beard was th' equal Grace
Both of his Wisdom, and his Face;
In Cut and Dye so like a Tyle,
A sudden View it would beguile:
The upper Part thereof was Whey,
The nether Orange mixt with Grey.

The Whisker continu'd for some time among us after the Expiration of Beards; but this is a Subject which I shall not here enter upon, having discussed it at large in a distinct Treatise, which I keep by me in Manuscript, upon the Mustachoe.

If my Friend Sir ROGERS Project, of introducing Beards, should take effect, I fear the Luxury of the present Age would make it a very expensive Fashion. There is no question but the Beaux would soon provide themselves with false ones of the lightest Colours, and the most immoderate Lengths. A fair Beard, of the Tapestry-Size Sir ROGER seems to approve, could not come under twenty Guineas. The famous Golden Beard of Æsculapius would hardly be more valuable than one made in the Extravagance of the Fashion.

Besides, we are not certain that the Ladies would not come into the Mode, when they take the Air on Horse-back. They already appear in Hats and Feathers, Coats and Perriwigs; and I see no reason why we should not suppose that they would have their Riding-Beards on the same Occasion.

I may give the Moral of this Discourse, in another Paper,

X.

* * * * *

No. 332. Friday, March 21, 1712. Steele.

Minus aptus acutis
Naribus horum hominum.

Hor.

Dear Short-Face,

In your Speculation of Wednesday last, you have given us some Account
of that worthy Society of Brutes the Mohocks; wherein you have
particularly specify'd the ingenious Performance of the Lion-Tippers,
the Dancing-Masters, and the Tumblers: But as you acknowledge you had
not then a perfect History of the whole Club, you might very easily
omit one of the most notable Species of it, the Sweaters, which may be
reckon'd a sort of Dancing-Masters too. It is it seems the Custom for
half a dozen, or more, of these well-dispos'd Savages, as soon as
they have inclos'd the Person upon whom they design the Favour of a
Sweat, to whip out their Swords, and holding them parallel to the
Horizon, they describe a sort of Magick Circle round about him with
the Points. As soon as this Piece of Conjuration is perform'd, and the
Patient without doubt already beginning to wax warm, to forward the
Operation, that Member of the Circle towards whom he is so rude as to
turn his Back first, runs his Sword directly into that Part of the
Patient wherein School-boys are punished; and, as it is very natural
to imagine this will soon make him tack about to some other Point,
every Gentleman does himself the same Justice as often as he receives
the Affront. After this Jig has gone two or three times round, and the
Patient is thought to have sweat sufficiently, he is very handsomly
rubb'd down by some Attendants, who carry with them Instruments for
that purpose, and so discharged. This Relation I had from a Friend of
mine, who has lately been under this Discipline. He tells me he had
the Honour to dance before the Emperor himself, not without the
Applause and Acclamations both of his Imperial Majesty, and the whole
Ring; tho I dare say, neither I or any of his Acquaintance ever
dreamt he would have merited any Reputation by his Activity.

I can assure you, Mr. SPEC, I was very near being qualify'd to have
given you a faithful and painful Account of this walking Bagnio, if I
may so call it, my self: For going the other night along Fleet-street,
and having, out of curiosity, just enter'd into Discourse with a
wandring Female who was travelling the same Way, a couple of Fellows
advanced towards us, drew their Swords, and cry out to each other, A
Sweat! a Sweat! Whereupon suspecting they were some of the Ringleaders
of the Bagnio, I also drew my Sword, and demanded a Parly; but finding
none would be granted me, and perceiving others behind them filing off
with great diligence to take me in Flank, I began to sweat for fear of
being forced to it: but very luckily betaking my self to a Pair of
Heels, which I had good Reason to believe would do me justice, I
instantly got possession of a very snug Corner in a neighbouring Alley
that lay in my Rear; which Post I maintain'd for above half an hour
with great Firmness and Resolution, tho not letting this Success so
far overcome me, as to make me unmindful of the Circumspection that
was necessary to be observ'd upon my advancing again towards the
Street; by which Prudence and good Management I made a handsome and
orderly Retreat, having suffer'd no other Damage in this Action than
the Loss of my Baggage, and the Dislocation of one of my Shoe-heels,
which last I am just now inform'd is in a fair way of Recovery. These
Sweaters, by what I can learn from my Friend, and by as near a View as
I was able to take of them my self, seem to me to have at present but
a rude kind of Discipline amongst them. It is probable, if you would
take a little Pains with them, they might be brought into better
order. But Ill leave this to your own Discretion; and will only add,
that if you think it worth while to insert this by way of Caution to
those who have a mind to preserve their Skins whole from this sort of
Cupping, and tell them at the same time the Hazard of treating with
Night-Walkers, you will perhaps oblige others, as well as

Your very humble Servant,

Jack Lightfoot.

P.S. My Friend will have me acquaint you, That though he would not
willingly detract from the Merit of that extra-ordinary Strokes-Man
Mr. Sprightly, yet it is his real Opinion, that some of those Fellows,
who are employ'd as Rubbers to this new-fashioned Bagnio, have struck
as bold Strokes as ever he did in his Life.

I had sent this four and twenty Hours sooner, if I had not had the
Misfortune of being in a great doubt about the Orthography of the word
Bagnio. I consulted several Dictionaries, but found no relief; at last
having recourse both to the Bagnio in Newgate-street, and to that in
Chancery lane, and finding the original Manuscripts upon the
Sign-posts of each to agree literally with my own Spelling, I returned
home, full of Satisfaction, in order to dispatch this Epistle.

Mr. SPECTATOR,
As you have taken most of the Circumstances of human Life into your
Consideration, we, the under-written, thought it not improper for us
also to represent to you our Condition. We are three Ladies who live
in the Country, and the greatest Improvements we make is by reading.
We have taken a small Journal of our Lives, and find it extremely
opposite to your last Tuesdays Speculation. We rise by seven, and
pass the beginning of each Day in Devotion, and looking into those
Affairs that fall within the Occurrences of a retired Life; in the
Afternoon we sometimes enjoy the Company of some Friend or Neighbour,
or else work or read; at Night we retire to our Chambers, and take
Leave of each other for the whole Night at Ten of Clock. We take
particular Care never to be sick of a Sunday. Mr. SPECTATOR, We are
all very good Maids, but are ambitious of Characters which we think
more laudable, that of being very good Wives. If any of your
Correspondents enquire for a Spouse for an honest Country Gentleman,
whose Estate is not dipped, and wants a Wife that can save half his
Revenue, and yet make a better Figure than any of his Neighbours of
the same Estate, with finer bred Women, you shall have further notice
from,
SIR,
Your courteous Readers,
Martha Busie.
Deborah Thrifty.
Alice Early. [1]

[Footnote 1: To this number there is added after a repeated advertisement of the Lucubrations of Isaac Bickerstaff in 4 vols. 8vo, a repetition in Italic type of the advertisement of the Boarding School on Mile-end Green (ending at the words render them accomplish'd) to which a conspicuous place was given, with original additions by Steele, in No. 314.]

* * * * *

No. 333. Saturday, March 22, 1712. Addison.

--vocat in Certamina Divos.

Virg.

We are now entering upon the Sixth Book of Paradise Lost, in which the Poet describes the Battel of Angels; having raised his Readers Expectation, and prepared him for it by several Passages in the preceding Books. I omitted quoting these Passages in my Observations on the former Books, having purposely reserved them for the opening of this, the Subject of which gave occasion to them. The Authors Imagination was so inflam'd with this great Scene of Action, that wherever he speaks of it, he rises, if possible, above himself. Thus where he mentions Satan in the Beginning of his Poem:

--Him the Almighty Power
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' Ethereal Sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless Perdition, there to dwell
In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to Arms.

We have likewise several noble Hints of it in the Infernal Conference.

O Prince! O Chief of many throned Powers,
That led th' imbattel'd Seraphim to War,
Too well I see and rue the dire Event,
That with sad Overthrow and foul Defeat
Hath lost us Heavn, and all this mighty Host
In horrible Destruction laid thus low.
But see I the angry Victor has recalled
His Ministers of Vengeance and Pursuit,
Back to the Gates of Heavn: The sulphurous Hail
Shot after us in Storm, overblown, hath laid
The fiery Surge, that from the Precipice
Of Heaven receiv'd us falling: and the Thunder,
Winged with red Lightning and impetuous Rage,
Perhaps hath spent his Shafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.

There are several other very sublime Images on the same Subject in the First Book, as also in the Second.

What when we fled amain, pursued and strook
With Heavns afflicting Thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us; this Hell then seem'd
A Refuge from those Wounds--

In short, the Poet never mentions anything of this Battel but in such Images of Greatness and Terror as are suitable to the Subject. Among several others I cannot forbear quoting that Passage, where the Power, who is described as presiding over the Chaos, speaks in the Third Book.

Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old
With faultring Speech, and Visage incompos'd,
Answer'd, I know thee, Stranger, who thou art,
That mighty leading Angel, who of late
Made Head against Heavens King, tho overthrown.
I saw and heard, for such a numerous Host
Fled not in silence through the frighted Deep
With Ruin upon Ruin, Rout on Rout,
Confusion worse confounded; and Heavns Gates
Pour'd out by Millions her victorious Bands
Pursuing--

It requir'd great Pregnancy of Invention, and Strength of Imagination, to fill this Battel with such Circumstances as should raise and astonish the Mind of the Reader; and at the same time an Exactness of Judgment, to avoid every thing that might appear light or trivial. Those who look into Homer, are surprized to find his Battels still rising one above another, and improving in Horrour, to the Conclusion of the Iliad. Milton's Fight of Angels is wrought up with the same Beauty. It is usher'd in with such Signs of Wrath as are suitable to Omnipotence incensed. The first Engagement is carry'd on under a Cope of Fire, occasion'd by the Flights of innumerable burning Darts and Arrows, which are discharged from either Host. The second Onset is still more terrible, as it is filled with those artificial Thunders, which seem to make the Victory doubtful, and produce a kind of Consternation even in the good Angels. This is follow'd by the tearing up of Mountains and Promontories; till, in the last place, the Messiah comes forth in the Fulness of Majesty and Terror, The Pomp of his Appearance amidst the Roarings of his Thunders, the Flashes of his Lightnings, and the Noise of his Chariot-Wheels, is described with the utmost Flights of Human Imagination.

There is nothing in the first and last Days Engagement which does not appear natural, and agreeable enough to the Ideas most Readers would conceive of a Fight between two Armies of Angels.

The second Days Engagement is apt to startle an Imagination, which has not been raised and qualify'd for such a Description, by the reading of the ancient Poets, and of Homer in particular. It was certainly a very bold Thought in our Author, to ascribe the first Use of Artillery to the Rebel Angels. But as such a pernicious Invention may be well supposed to have proceeded from such Authors, so it entered very properly into the Thoughts of that Being, who is all along describ'd as aspiring to the Majesty of his Maker. Such Engines were the only Instruments he could have made use of to imitate those Thunders, that in all Poetry, both sacred and profane, are represented as the Arms of the Almighty. The tearing up the Hills, was not altogether so daring a Thought as the former. We are, in some measure, prepared for such an Incident by the Description of the Giants War, which we meet with among the Ancient Poets. What still made this Circumstance the more proper for the Poets Use, is the Opinion of many learned Men, that the Fable of the Giants War, which makes so great a noise in Antiquity, [and gave birth to the sublimest Description in Hesiod's Works was [l]] an Allegory founded upon this very Tradition of a Fight between the good and bad Angels.

It may, perhaps, be worth while to consider with what Judgment Milton, in this Narration, has avoided every thing that is mean and trivial in the Descriptions of the Latin and Greek Poets; and at the same time improved every great Hint which he met with in their Works upon this Subject. Homer in that Passage, which Longinus has celebrated for its Sublimeness, and which Virgil and Ovid have copy'd after him, tells us, that the Giants threw Ossa upon Olympus, and Pelion upon Ossa. He adds an Epithet to Pelion ([Greek: einosíphullon]) which very much swells the Idea, by bringing up to the Readers Imagination all the Woods that grew upon it. There is further a great Beauty in his singling out by Name these three remarkable Mountains, so well known to the Greeks. This last is such a Beauty as the Scene of Milton's War could not possibly furnish him with. Claudian, in his Fragment upon the Giants War, has given full scope to that Wildness of Imagination which was natural to him. He tells us, that the Giants tore up whole Islands by the Roots, and threw them at the Gods. He describes one of them in particular taking up Lemnos in his Arms, and whirling it to the Skies, with all Vulcan's Shop in the midst of it. Another tears up Mount Ida, with the River Enipeus, which ran down the Sides of it; but the Poet, not content to describe him with this Mountain upon his Shoulders, tells us that the River flow'd down his Back, as he held it up in that Posture. It is visible to every judicious Reader, that such Ideas savour more of Burlesque, than of the Sublime. They proceed from a Wantonness of Imagination, and rather divert the Mind than astonish it. Milton has taken every thing that is sublime in these several Passages, and composes out of them the following great Image.

From their Foundations loosning to and fro,
They pluck'd the seated Hills, with all their Land,
Rocks, Waters, Woods; and by the shaggy Tops
Up-lifting bore them in their Hands--

We have the full Majesty of Homer in this short Description, improv'd by the Imagination of Claudian, without its Puerilities. I need not point out the Description of the fallen Angels seeing the Promontories hanging over their Heads in such a dreadful manner, with the other numberless Beauties in this Book, which are so conspicuous, that they cannot escape the Notice of the most ordinary Reader.

There are indeed so many wonderful Strokes of Poetry in this Book, and such a variety of Sublime Ideas, that it would have been impossible to have given them a place within the bounds of this Paper. Besides that, I find it in a great measure done to my hand at the End of my Lord Roscommon's Essay on Translated Poetry. I shall refer my Reader thither for some of the Master Strokes in the Sixth Book of Paradise Lost, tho at the same time there are many others which that noble Author has not taken notice of.

Milton, notwithstanding the sublime Genius he was Master of, has in this Book drawn to his Assistance all the Helps he could meet with among the Ancient Poets. The Sword of Michael, which makes so great [a [2]] havock among the bad Angels, was given him, we are told, out of the Armory of God.

--But the Sword
Of Michael from the Armory of God
Was given him tempered so, that neither keen
Nor solid might resist that Edge: It met
The Sword of Satan, with steep Force to smite
Descending, and in half cut sheer--

This Passage is a Copy of that in Virgil, wherein the Poet tells us, that the Sword of Æneas, which was given him by a Deity, broke into Pieces the Sword of Turnus, which came from a mortal Forge. As the Moral in this Place is divine, so by the way we may observe, that the bestowing on a Man who is favoured by Heaven such an allegorical Weapon, is very conformable to the old Eastern way of Thinking. Not only Homer has made use of it, but we find the Jewish Hero in the Book of Maccabees, who had fought the Battels of the chosen People with so much Glory and Success, receiving in his Dream a Sword from the Hand of the Prophet Jeremiah. The following Passage, wherein Satan is described as wounded by the Sword of Michael, is in imitation of Homer.

The griding Sword with discontinuous Wound
Passed through him; butt the Ethereal Substance closed
Not long divisible; and from the Gash
A Stream of Nectarous Humour issuing flowed
Sanguine, (such as celestial Spirits may bleed)
And all his Armour stained--

Homer tells us in the same manner, that upon Diomedes wounding the Gods, there flow'd from the Wound an Ichor, or pure kind of Blood, which was not bred from mortal Viands; and that tho the Pain was exquisitely great, the Wound soon closed up and healed in those Beings who are vested with Immortality.

I question not but Milton in his Description of his furious Moloch flying from the Battel, and bellowing with the Wound he had received, had his Eye on Mars in the Iliad; who, upon his being wounded, is represented as retiring out of the Fight, and making an Outcry louder than that of a whole Army when it begins the Charge. Homer adds, that the Greeks and Trojans, who were engaged in a general Battel, were terrify'd on each side with the bellowing of this wounded Deity. The Reader will easily observe how Milton has kept all the Horrour of this Image, without running into the Ridicule of it.

--Where the Might of Gabriel fought,
And with fierce Ensigns pierc'd the deep Array
Of Moloch, furious King! who him defy'd,
And at his Chariot-wheels to drag him bound
Threaten'd, nor from the Holy One of Heavn
Refrained his Tongue blasphemous: but anon
Down cloven to the Waste, with shattered Arms
And uncouth Pain fled bellowing.--

Milton has likewise raised his Description in this Book with many Images taken out of the poetical Parts of Scripture. The Messiahs Chariot, as I have before taken notice, is formed upon a Vision of Ezekiel, who, as Grotius observes, has very much in him of Homers Spirit in the Poetical Parts of his Prophecy.

The following Lines in that glorious Commission which is given the Messiah to extirpate the Host of Rebel Angels, is drawn from a Sublime Passage in the Psalms.

Go then thou Mightiest in thy Fathers Might!
Ascend my Chariot, guide the rapid Wheels
That shake Heavns Basis; bring forth all my War,
My Bow, my Thunder, my Almighty Arms,
Gird on thy Sword on thy puissant Thigh.

The Reader will easily discover many other Strokes of the same nature.

There is no question but Milton had heated his Imagination with the Fight of the Gods in Homer, before he enter'd upon this Engagement of the Angels. Homer there gives us a Scene of Men, Heroes, and Gods, mix'd together in Battel. Mars animates the contending Armies, and lifts up his Voice in such a manner, that it is heard distinctly amidst all the Shouts and Confusion of the Fight. Jupiter at the same time Thunders over their Heads; while Neptune raises such a Tempest, that the whole Field of Battel and all the Tops of the Mountains shake about them. The Poet tells us, that Pluto himself, whose Habitation was in the very Center of the Earth, was so affrighted at the Shock, that he leapt from his Throne. Homer afterwards describes Vulcan as pouring down a Storm of Fire upon the River Xanthus, and Minerva as throwing a Rock at Mars; who, he tells us, cover'd seven Acres in his Fall.

As Homer has introduced into his Battel of the Gods every thing that is great and terrible in Nature, Milton has filled his Fight of good and bad Angels with all the like Circumstances of Horrour. The Shout of Armies, the Rattling of Brazen Chariots, the Hurling of Rocks and Mountains, the Earthquake, the Fire, the Thunder, are all of them employ'd to lift up the Readers Imagination, and give him a suitable Idea of so great an Action. With what Art has the Poet represented the whole Body of the Earth trembling, even before it was created.

All Heaven resounded, and had Earth been then,
All Earth had to its Center shook--

In how sublime and just a manner does he afterwards describe the whole Heaven shaking under the Wheels of the Messiahs Chariot, with that Exception to the Throne of God?

--Under his burning Wheels
The stedfast Empyrean shook throughout,
All but the Throne it self of God--

Notwithstanding the Messiah appears clothed with so much Terrour and Majesty, the Poet has still found means to make his Readers conceive an Idea of him, beyond what he himself was able to describe.

Yet half his Strength he put not forth, but checkt
His Thunder in mid Volley; for he meant
Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven.

In a Word, Milton's Genius, which was so great in it self, and so strengthened by all the helps of Learning, appears in this Book every way equal to his Subject, which was the most Sublime that could enter into the Thoughts of a Poet. As he knew all the Arts of affecting the Mind, [he knew it was necessary to give [3]] it certain Resting-places and Opportunities of recovering it self from time to time: He has [therefore] with great Address interspersed several Speeches, Reflections, Similitudes, and the like Reliefs to diversify his Narration, and ease the Attention of [the [4]] Reader, that he might come fresh to his great Action, and by such a Contrast of Ideas, have a more lively taste of the nobler Parts of his Description.

L.

[Footnote 1: [is]]

[Footnote 2: [an]]

[Footnote 3: had he not given]

[Footnote 4: his]

* * * * *

No. 334. Monday, March 24, 1712. Steele

Voluisti in suo Genere, unumquemque nostrum quasi quendam esse
Roscium, dixistique non tam ea quæ recta essent probari, quam quæ
prava sunt fastidiis adhærescere.

Cicero de Gestu.