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the heroic, as comic writers to their serious | thought very pretty company. But let us brothers in the drama. hear what he says for himself.

By this short table of laws order is kept up, and distinction preserved, in the whole republic of letters. 0.

No. 530.] Friday, November 7, 1712.

Sic visum Veneri; cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Sævo mittere cum joco.

Hor. Od. xxxiii. Lib. 1. 10.

Thus Venus sports; the rich, the base,

Unlike in fortune and in face,

To disagreeing love provokes;

When cruelly jocose,

She ties the fatal noose,

And binds unequals to the brazen yokes.-Creech.

It is very usual for those who have been severe upon marriage, in some part or other of their lives, to enter into the fraternity which they have ridiculed, and to see their raillery return upon their own heads. I scarce ever knew a woman-hater that did not, sooner or later, pay for it. Marriage, which is a blessing to another man, falls upon such a one as a judgment. Mr. Congreve's Old Bachelor is set forth to us with much wit and humour, as an example of this kind. In short, those who have most distinguished themselves by railing at the sex in general, very often make an honourable amends, by choosing one of the most worthless persons of it for a companion and yokefellow. Hymen takes his revenge in kind on those who turn his mysteries into ridicule.

'MY WORTHY FRIEND,-I question not but you, and the rest of my acquaintance, wonder that I, who have lived in the smoke and gallantries of the town for thirty years together, should all on a sudden grow fond of a country life. Had not my dog of a steward ran away as he did, without making up his accounts, I had still been immersed in sin and sea-coal. But since my late forced visit to my estate, I am so pleased with it, that I am resolved to live and die upon it. I am every day abroad among my acres, and can scarce forbear filling my letters with breezes, shades, flowers, meadows, and purling streams. The simplicity of manners, which I have heard you so often speak of, and which appears here in perfection, charms me wonderfully. As an instance of it I must acquaint you, and by your means the whole club, that I have lately married one of my tenant's daughters." She is born of honest parents; and though she has no portion, she has a great deal of virtue. The natural sweetness and innocence of her behaviour, the freshness of her complexion, the unaffected turn of her shape and person, shot me through and through every time I saw her, and did more execution upon me in grogram than the greatest beauty in town or court had ever done in brocade. In short, she is such a one as promises me a good heir to my estate; and if by her means I cannot leave to my children what are falsely called the gifts of birth, high titles, and alliances, I hope to convey to them the more real and valuable gifts of birth-strong bodies, and healthy constitutions. As for your fine women, I need not tell thee that I know them. I have had my share in their graces; but no more of that. It shall be my business hereafter to live the life of an honest man, and to act as becomes the master of a family. I question not but I shall draw upon me the raillery of the town, and be treated to the tune of, The Marriage-hater Matched;'* but I am prepared for it. I have been as witty upon others in my time. To tell thee truly, I saw such a tribe of fashionable young fluttering coxcombs shot up, that I did not think my post of an homme de ruelle any longer tenable. I felt a certain stiff

My friend Will Honeycomb, who was so unmercifully witty upon the women, in a couple of letters which I lately communicated to the public, has given the ladies ample satisfaction by marrying a farmer's daughter; a piece of news which came to our club by the last post. The templar is very positive that he has married a dairymaid: but Will, in his letter to me on this occasion, sets the best face upon the matter that he can, and gives a more tolerable account of his spouse. I must confess I suspected something more than ordinary, when upon opening the letter I found that Will was fallen off from his former gayety, having changed 'Dear Spec,' which was his usual salute at the beginning of the letter, into My worthy Friend,' and sub-ness in my limbs, which entirely destroyed scribed himself in the latter end, at full length, William Honeycomb. In short, the gay, the loud, the vain Will Honeycomb, who had made love to every great fortune that has appeared in town for above thirty years together, and boasted of favours from ladies whom he had never seen, is at length wedded to a plain country girl.

His letter gives us the picture of a converted rake. The sober character of the husband is dashed with the man of the town, and enlivened with those little cant phrases which have made my friend Will often

the jauntiness of air I was once master of. Besides, for I may now confess my age to thee, I have been eight-and-forty above these twelve years. Since my retirement into the country will make a vacancy in the club, I could wish you would fill up my place with my friend Tom Dapperwit. He has an infinite deal of fire, and knows the

*The name of one of Tom Durfey's miserable come. dies. It was Dogget's excellent performance of a chaupon him, and marked out as an actor of superior racter in this play, that firs: drew the eyes of the publie talents.

town. For my own part, as I have said
before, I shall endeavour to live hereafter
suitable to a man in my station, as a pru-
dent head of a family, a good husband, a
careful father, (when it shall so happen,)
and as your most sincere friend,
0.

'WILLIAM HONEYCOMB.'

No. 531.] Saturday, November 8, 1712.

Qui mare et terras, variisque mundum
Temperat horis:

Unde ni majus generatur ipso;

Nec viget quicquam simile aut secundum.
Hor. Od. xii. Lib. 1. 15.

Who guides below and rules above,
The great disposer, and the nighty King;
Than he none greater, like him none,
That can be, is, or was;

Supreme he singly fills the throne.-Creech. SIMONIDES being asked by Dionysius the tyrant what God was, desired a day's time to consider of it before he made his reply. When the day was expired he desired two days; and afterwards, instead of returning his answer, demanded still double the time to consider of it. This great poet and philosopher, the more he contemplated the nature of the Deity, found that he waded but the more out of his depth; and that he lost himself in the thought, instead of finding an end of it.

to the Supreme Being, we enlarge every one of these with our own idea of infinity: and so putting them together, make our complex idea of God.'

It is not impossible that there may be many kinds of spiritual perfection, besides those which are lodged in a human soul: but it is impossible that we should have the ideas of any kinds of perfection, except those of which we have some small rays and short imperfect strokes in ourselves. It would therefore be very high presumption to determine whether the Supreme Being has not many more attributes than those which enter into our conceptions of him. This is certain, that if there be any kind of spiritual perfection which is not marked out in a human soul, it belongs in its fulness to the divine nature.

Several eminent philosophers have imagined that the soul, in her separate state, may have new faculties springing up in her, which she is not capable of exerting during her present union with the body; and whether these faculties may not correspond with other attributes in the divine nature, and open to us hereafter new matter of wonder and adoration, we are altogether ignorant. This, as I have said before, we ought to acquiesce in, that the Sovereign Being, the great author of nature, has in him all possible perfection, as well in kind as in degree: to speak according to our methods of conceiving, I shall only add under this head, that when we have raised our notion of this Infinite Being as high as it is possible for the mind of man to go, it will fall infinitely short of what he really is.

There is no end of his greatness. The most exalted creature he has made is only capable of adoring it, none but himself can comprehend it.

The advice of the son of Sirach is very just and sublime in this light. By his word all things consist. We may speak much, and yet come short: wherefore in some he is all. How shall we be able to magnify him? for he is great above all his works. The Lord is terrible and very great; and marvellous in his power. When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as you can; for even yet will he far exceed. And when you exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary; for you can never go far enough. Who hath seen him, that he might tell us? and who can magnify him as he is? There are yet hid greater things than these be, for we have seen but a few of his works.'

If we consider the idea which wise men, by the light of reason, have framed of the Divine Being, it amounts to this; that he has in him all the perfection of a spiritual nature. And since we have no notion of any kind of spiritual perfection but what we discover in our own souls, we join infinitude to each kind of these perfections, and what is a faculty in a human soul becomes an attribute in God. We exist in place and time; the Divine Being fills the immensity of space with his presence, and inhabits eternity. We are possessed of a little power and a little knowledge: the Divine Being is almighty and omniscient. In short, by adding infinity to any kind of perfection we enjoy, and by joining all these different kinds of perfection in one being, we form our idea of the great Sovereign of Nature. Though every one who thinks must have made this observation, I shall produce Mr. Locke's authority to the same purpose, out of his Essay on Human Understanding. 'If we examine the idea we have of the incomprehensible Supreme Being, we shall find that we come by it the same way; and that the complex ideas we have both of I have here only considered the Supreme God and separate spirits, are made up of Being by the light of reason and philosothe simple ideas we receive from reflection: phy. If we would see him in all the wonv. g. having, from what we experience in|ders of his mercy, we must have recourse ourselves, got the ideas of existence and duration, of knowledge and power of pleasure and happiness, and of several other qualities and powers, which it is better to have than to be without: when we would frame an idea the most suitable we can

to revelation, which represents him to us not only as infinitely great and glorious, but as infinitely good and just in his dispensations towards man. But as this is the theory which falls under every one's consideration, though indeed it can never be sufficiently

considered, I shall here only take notice of No. 532.] Monday, November 10, 1712.

that habitual worship and veneration which we ought to pay to this Almighty Being. We should often refresh our minds with the thought of him, and annihilate ourselves before him, in the contemplation of our own worthlessness, and of his transcendent excellency and perfection. This would imprint in our minds such a constant and uninterrupted awe and veneration as that which I am here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant prayer, and reasonable humiliation of the soul before him who made it.

This would effectually kill in us all the little seeds of pride, vanity, and self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the minds of such whose thoughts turn more on those comparative advantages which they enjoy over some of their fellow-creatures, than on that infinite distance which is placed between them and the supreme model of all perfection. It would likewise quicken our desires and endeavours of uniting ourselves to him by all the acts of religion and

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occasions.

I find the following passage in an excellent sermon, preached at the funeral of a gentleman who was an honour to his country, and a more diligent as well as successful inquirer into the works of nature than any other our nation has ever produced. He had the profoundest veneration for the great God of heaven and earth that I have ever observed in any person. The very name of God was never mentioned by him without a pause and a visible stop in his discourse; in which one, that knew him most particularly above twenty years, has told me that he was so exact, that he does not remember to have observed him once to fail in it.'

-Fungor vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quæ ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.
Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 304.

I play the whetstone: useless and unfit
To cut myself, I sharpen others wit.-Creech.
It is a very honest action to be studious
to produce other men's merit; and I make
no scruple of saying, I have as much of
this temper as any man in the world. It
would not be a thing to be bragged of, but
that is what any man may be master of,
who will take pains enough for it. Much
observation of the unworthiness in being
pained at the excellence of another will
bring you to a scorn of yourself for that un-
willingness; and when you have got so far,
you will find it a greater pleasure than you
ever before knew to be zealous in promot-
ing the fame and welfare of the praise-
worthy. I do not speak this as pretending
to be a mortified self-denying man, but as
one who had turned his ambition into a
right channel. I claim to myself the merit
of having extorted excellent productions
from a person of the greatest abilities, who
would not have let them appeared by any
other means; to have animated a few
young gentlemen into worthy pursuits, who
will be a glory to our age; and at all times,
and by all possible means in my power, un-
dermined the interest of ignorance, vice,
and folly, and attempted to substitute in
their stead, learning, piety, and good sense.
It is from this honest heart that I find my-
self honoured as a gentleman-usher to the
arts and sciences.-Mr. Tickell and Mr.
Pope have, it seems, this idea of me. The
former has writ me an excellent paper of
verses, in praise, forsooth, of myself; and
the other enclosed for my perusal an ad-
mirable poem, which I hope will shortly
see the light. In the mean time I cannot
suppress any thought of his, but insert this
sentiment about the dying words of Adrian.
I will not determine in the case he men-
tions; but have thus much to say in favour
of his argument, that many of his own works
which I have seen, convince me that very
pretty and very sublime sentiments may
be lodged in the same bosom without dimi
nution of its greatness.

Every one knows the veneration which was paid by the Jews to a name so great, wonderful, and holy. They would not let it enter even into their religious discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so tremendous a name in the ordinary expressions of their anger, mirth, and most 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I was the other day impertinent passions? of those who admit it in company with five or six men of some into the most familiar questions and asser- learning: where, chancing to mention the tions, ludicrous phrases, and works of hu- famous verses which the emperor Adrian mour? not to mention those who violate it spoke on his death-bed, they were all by solemn perjuries! It would be an affront agreed that it was a piece of gayety unto reason to endeavour to set forth the hor-worthy that prince in those circumstances. ror and profaneness of such a practice. I could not but dissent from this opinion. The very mention of it exposes it suffi- Methinks it was by no means a gay but a ciently to those in whom the light of na- very serious soliloquy to his soul at the ture, not to say religion, is not utterly ex-point of his departure: in which sense I tinguished.

O.

* See bishop Burnet's Sermon, preached at the funeral of the honourable Robert Boyle.

naturally took these verses at my first read. ing them, when I was very young, and be

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fore I knew what interpretation the world| generally put upon them.

"Animula vagula, blandula,
Hospes comesque corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca?
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,

Nec (ut soles) dabis jocos!"

"Alas, my soul! thou pleasing compa nion of this body, thou fleeting thing that art now deserting it, whither art thou flying? to what unknown region? Thou art all trembling, fearful, and pensive. Now what is become of thy former wit and humour? Thou shalt jest and be gay no more."

'I confess I cannot apprehend where lies the trifling in all this; it is the most natural and obvious reflection imaginable to a dying man: and, if we consider the emperor was a heathen, that doubt concerning the future state of his soul will seem so far from being the effect of want of thought, that it was scarce reasonable he should think otherwise: not to mention that there is a plain confession included of his belief in its immortality. The diminutive epithets of vagula, blandula, and the rest, appear not to me as expressions of levity, but rather of endearment and concern; such as we find in Catullus, and the authors of Hendecasyllabi after him, where they are used to express the utmost love and tenderness for their mistresses. If you think me right in my notion of the last words of Adrian, be pleased to insert this in the Spectator; if not, suppress it.

'I am, &c.'

To the supposed Author of the Spectator.

'In courts licentious, and a shameless stage,
How long the war shall wit with virtue wage?
Enchanted by this prostituted fair,
Our youth run headlong in the fatal snare;
In height of rapture clasp unheeded pains,
And suck pollution through their tingling veins.
Thy spotless thoughts unshock'd the priest may hear,
And the pure vestal in her bosom wear.
To conscious blushes and diminish'd pride,
Thy glass betrays what treach'rous love would hide :
Nor harsh thy precepts, but infus'd by stealth,
Please while they cure, and cheat us into health.

Thy works in Chloe's toilet gain a part,
And with his tailor share the fopling's heart:
Lash'd in thy satire, the penurious cit
Laughs at himself, and finds no harm in wit:
From felon gamesters the raw 'squire is free,
And Britain owes her rescu'd oaks to thee.*
His miss the frolic viscount† dreads to toast,
Or his third cure the shallow templar boast;
And the rash fool, who scorn'd the beaten road,
Dares quake at thunder, and confess his God.

The brainless stripling, who, expell'd to town,
Damn'd the stiff college and pedantic clown,
Aw'd by thy name is dumb, and thrice a week
Spells uncouth Latin, and pretends to Greek.
A saunt'ring tribe! such, born to wide estates,
With yea" and "no" in senates hold debates;
At length despis'd, each to his field retires,
First with the dogs, and king amidst the 'squires;
From pert to stupid sinks supinely down,
In youth a coxcomb, and in age a clown.

*Mr. Tickell here alludes to Steel's papers against the sharpers, &c. in the Tatler, and particularly to a letter in Tat. No. 73, signed Will Trusty, and written by Mr. John Hughes.

t Viscount Bolingbroke.

'Such readers scorn'd, thou wing'st thy daring flight
Above the stars, and tread'st the fields of light;
Fame, heaven, and hell, are thy exalted theme,
And visions such as Jove himself might dream;
Man sunk to slav'ry, though to glory born,
Heaven's pride when upright, and deprav'd his score.

Such Lints alone could British Virgil lend,↑
And thou alone deserve from such a friend;
A debt so borrow'd is illustrious fame,

And fame when shar'd with him is double fame.
So flush'd with sweets, by beauty's queen bestow'd,
With more than mortal charms Eneas glow'd:
Such gen'rons strifes Eugene and Marlbro' try,
And as in glory so in friendship vie.

'Permit these lines by thee to live-nor blame
A muse that pants and languishes for fame ;
That fears to sink when humbled themes she sings,
Lost in the mass of mean forgotten things.
Receiv'd by thee, I prophesy my rhymes
The praise of virgins in succeeding times;
Mix'd with thy works, their life no bounds shall see,
But stand protected as inspir'd by thee.

'So some weak shoot, which else would poorly rise,
Jove's tree adopts and lifts him to the skies;
Through the new pupil fost'ring juices flow,
Thrust forth the gems, and give the flowers to blow;
Aloft, immortal reigns the plant unknown,
With borrow'd life, and vigour not his own.'

To the Spectator General.

'Mr. John Sly humbly showeth :

That upon reading the deputation given to the said Mr. John Sly, all persons passing by his observatory behaved themselves with the same decorum as if your honour yourself had been present.

"That your said officer is preparing, according to your honour's secret instructions, hats for the several kinds of heads that make figures in the realms of Great Britain, with cocks significant of their powers and faculties.

That your said officer has taken due notice of your instructions and admonitions concerning the internals of the head from the outward form of the same. His hats for men of the faculties of law and physic do but just turn up, to give a little life to their sagacity; his military hats glare full in the face; and he has prepared a familiar easy cock for all good companions between the above-mentioned extremes. For this end he has consulted the most learned of his acquaintance for the true form and dimensions of the lepidum caput, and made a hat fit for it.

Your said officer does farther represent, that the young divines about town are many of them got into the cock military and desires your instructions therein.

"That the town has been for several days very well behaved, and farther your said officer saith not.' T.

No. 533.] Tuesday, November 11, 1712.
Immo duas dabo, inquit ille, una si parum est;
Et si duarum pœnitebit addentur duæ.-Plant.
Nay, says he, if one is too little, I will give you two;
And if two will not satisfy you, I will add two more
To the Spectator.

'SIR,-You have often given us very ex cellent discourses against that unnatural

A compliment to Addison.

various characters of fine women prefer
able to Miranda. In a word, she is never
guilty of doing any thing but one amiss, (if
she can be thought to do amiss by me) in
being as blind to my faults, as she is to her
own perfections. I am, sir, your very
humble, obedient servant,
'DUSTERERASTUS.'

custom of parents in forcing their children | beauty, yet there is none among all your to marry contrary to their inclinations. My own case, without farther preface, I will lay before you, and leave you to judge of it. My father and mother, both being in declining years, would fain see me, their eldest son, as they call it, settled. I am as much for that as they can be; but I must be settled, it seems, not according to my own, but their liking. Upon this account I am teased every day, because I have not yet fallen into love, in spite of nature, with one of a neighbouring gentleman's daughters; for out of their abundant generosity, they give me the choice of four. "Jack," begins my father. "Mrs. Catharine is a fine woman. -"Yes, sir, but she is rather too old."" She will make the more discreet manager, boy." Then my mother plays her part. "Is not Mrs. Betty exceeding fair?""Yes, madam, but she is of no conversation; she has no fire, no agreeable vivacity; she neither speaks nor looks with spirit."—"True, son, but for those very reasons she will be an easy, soft, obliging, tractable creature."-" After all," cries an old aunt, (who belongs to the class of those who read plays with spectacles on,)"what think you, nephew, of proper Mrs. Dorothy?""What do I think? why, I think she cannot be above six foot two inches high."-"Well, well, you may banter as long as you please, but height of stature is commanding and majestic."-"Come, come, says a cousin of mine in the family, "I will fit him; Fidelia is yet behindpretty Miss Fiddy must please you."

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Oh! your very humble servant, dear coz, she is as much too young as her eldest sister is too old."-"Is it so, indeed," quoth she, "good Mr. Pert? You that are but turned of twenty-two, and Miss Fiddy in half a year's time will be in her teens, and she is capable of learning any thing, Then she will be so observant; she will cry perhaps now and then, but never be angry. Thus they will think for me in this matter, wherein I am more particularly concerned than any body else. If I name any woman in the world, one of these daughters has certainly the same qualities. You see by these few hints, Mr. Spectator, what a comfortable life I lead. To be still more open and free with you, I have been passionately fond of a young lady (whom give me leave to call Miranda) now for these three years. I have often urged the matter home to my parents with all the submission of a son, but the impatience of a lover. Pray, sir, think of three years: what inexpressible scenes of inquietude, what variety of misery must I have gone through in three whole years! Miranda's fortune is equal to those I have mentioned; but her relations are not intimates with mine! Ah! there's the rub! Miranda's person, wit, and humour, are what the nicest fancy could imagine; and, though we know you to be so elegant a judge of VOL. II.

39

'MR. SPECTATOR,-When you spent so much time as you did lately in censuring the ambitious young gentlemen who ride in triumph through town and country on coach-boxes, I wish you had employed those moments in consideration of what passes sometimes within-side of those vehicles. I am sure I suffered sufficiently by the insolence and ill-breeding of some per sons who travelled lately with me in the stage-coach out of Essex to London. I am sure, when you have heard what I have to say, you will think there are persons under the character of gentlemen, that are fit to be no where else but on the coach-box. Sir, I am a young woman of a sober and religious education, and have preserved that character; but on Monday was fortnight, it was my misfortune to come to London. I was no sooner clapped into the coach, but, to my great surprise, two persons in the habit of gentlemen attacked me with such indecent discourse as I cannot repeat to you, so you may conclude not fit for me to hear. I had no relief but the hopes of a speedy end of my short journey. Sir, form to yourself what a persecution this must needs be to a virtuous and chaste mind; and, in order to your proper handling such a subject, fancy your wife or daughter, if you had any, in such circumstances, and what treatment you would then think due to such dragoons. One of them was called a captain, and entertained us with nothing but filthy stupid questions, or lewd songs, all the way. Ready to burst with shame and indignation, I repined that nature had not allowed us as easily to shut our ears as our eyes. But was not this a kind of rape? Why should there be accessaries in ravishment any more than murder? Why should not every contributor to the abuse of chastity suffer death? I am sure these shameless hell-hounds deserved it highly. Can you exert yourself better than on such an occasion? If you do not do it effectually, I will read no more of your papers. Has every impertinent fellow a privilege to torment me, who pay my coach-hire as well as he? Sir, pray consider us in this respect as the weakest sex, who have nothing to defend ourselves; and I think it is as gentleman-like to challenge a woman to fight as to talk obscenely in her company, especially when she has not power to stir. Pray let me tell you a story which you can make fit for public view. I knew a gentleman who, having a very good opinion of the gentlemen of the

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