Your most sincere Friend and humble Servant,

ANDREW FREEPORT.

The Club, of which I am Member, being entirely dispersed, I shall consult my Reader next Week, upon a Project relating to the Institution of a new one.

O.



[Footnote 1: Age.]



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No. 550. Monday, December 1, 1712. Addison.



'Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor HIATU?'

Hor.



Since the late Dissolution of the Club whereof I have often declared my self a Member, there are very many Persons who by Letters, Petitions, and Recommendations, put up for the next Election. At the same time I must complain, that several indirect and underhand Practices have been made use of upon this Occasion. A certain Country Gentleman begun to tapp upon the first Information he received of Sir ROGER'S Death; when he sent me up word, that if I would get him chosen in the Place of the Deceased, he would present me with a Barrel of the best October I had ever drank in my Life. The Ladies are in great Pain to know whom I intend to elect in the Room of WILL. HONEYCOMBE. Some of them indeed are of Opinion that Mr. HONEYCOMBE did not take sufficient care of their Interests in the Club, and are therefore desirous of having in it hereafter a Representative of their own Sex. A Citizen who subscribes himself Y. Z. tells me that he has one and twenty Shares in the African Company, and offers to bribe me with the odd one in case he may succeed Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, which he thinks would raise the Credit of that Fund. I have several Letters, dated from Fenny Man's, by Gentlemen who are Candidates for Capt. SENTRY'S Place, and as many from a Coffee-House in Paul's Church-yard of such who would fill up the Vacancy occasioned by the Death of my worthy Friend the Clergyman, whom I can never mention but with a particular Respect.

Having maturely weighed these several Particulars, with the many Remonstrances that have been made to me on this Subject, and considering how invidious an Office I shall take upon me, if I make the whole Election depend upon my single Voice, and being unwilling to expose my self to those Clamours, which, on such an Occasion, will not fail to be raised against me for Partiality, Injustice, Corruption, and other Qualities which my Nature abhors, I have formed to my self the Project of a Club as follows.

I have thoughts of issuing out Writs to all and every of the Clubs that are established in the Cities of London and Westminster, requiring them to chuse out of their respective Bodies a Person of the greatest Merit, and to return his name to me before Lady-day, at which time I intend to sit upon Business.

By this means I may have Reason to hope, that the Club over which I shall preside will be the very Flower and Quintescence of all other Clubs. I have communicated this my Project to none but a particular Friend of mine, whom I have celebrated twice or thrice for his Happiness in that kind of Wit which is commonly known by the Name of a Punn. The only Objection he makes to it is, that I shall raise up Enemies to my self if I act with so regal an Air; and that my Detractors, instead of giving me the usual Title of SPECTATOR, will be apt to call me the King of Clubs.

But to proceed on my intended Project: It is very well known that I at first set forth in this Work with the Character of a silent Man; and I think I have so well preserved my Taciturnity, that I do not remember to have violated it with three Sentences in the space of almost two Years. As a Monosyllable is my Delight, I have made very few Excursions in the Conversations which I have related beyond a Yes or a No. By this Means my Readers have lost many good things which I have had in my Heart, though I did not care for uttering them.

Now in order to diversify my Character, and to shew the World how well I can talk if I have a Mind, I have Thoughts of being very loquacious in the Club which I have now under Consideration. But that I may proceed the more regularly in this Affair, I design, upon the first Meeting of the said Club, to have my Mouth opened in form; intending to regulate my self in this Particular by a certain Ritual which I have by me, that contains all the Ceremonies which are practised at the opening of the Mouth of a Cardinal. I have likewise examined the forms which were used of old by Pythagoras, when any of his Scholars, after an Apprenticeship of Silence, was made free of his Speech. In the mean time, as I have of late found my Name in foreign Gazettes upon less Occasions, I question not but in their next Articles from Great Britain, they will inform the World that the SPECTATOR'S Mouth is to be opened on the twenty-fifth of March next. [1] I may perhaps publish a very useful Paper at that Time of the Proceedings in that Solemnity, and of the Persons who shall assist at it. But of this more hereafter.

O.



[Footnote 1: On the twelfth of the following March appeared the first number of Steele's Guardian. Addison's attempt to revive the Spectator was not made until June, 1714.]



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No. 551. Tuesday, December 2, 1712.



'Sic Honor et Nomen divinis vatibus atque Carminibus venit.'

Hor.



Mr. SPECTATOR,

When Men of worthy and excelling Genius's have obliged the World with beautiful and instructive Writings, it is in the nature of Gratitude that Praise should be returned them, as one proper consequent Reward of their Performances. Nor has Mankind ever been so degenerately sunk, but they have made this Return, and even when they have not been wrought up by the generous Endeavour so as to receive the Advantages designed by it. This Praise, which arises first in the Mouth of particular Persons, spreads and lasts according to the Merit of Authors; and when it thus meets with a full Success changes its Denomination, and is called Fame. They who have happily arrived at this, are, even while they live, enflamed by the Acknowledgments of others, and spurred on to new Undertakings for the Benefit of Mankind, notwithstanding the Detraction which some abject Tempers would cast upon them: But when they decease, their Characters being freed from the Shadow which Envy laid them under, begin to shine out with greater Splendour; their Spirits survive in their Works; they are admitted into the highest Companies, and they continue pleasing and instructing Posterity from Age to Age. Some of the best gain a Character, by being able to shew that they are no Strangers to them; and others obtain a new Warmth to labour for the Happiness and Ease of Mankind, from a Reflection upon those Honours which are paid to their Memories.

The Thought of this took me up as I turned over those Epigrams which are the Remains of several of the Wits of Greece, and perceived many dedicated to the Fame of those who had excelled in beautiful poetick Performances. Wherefore, in pursuance to my Thought, I concluded to do something along with them to bring their Praises into a new Light and Language, for the Encouragement of those whose modest Tempers may be deterr'd by the Fear of Envy or Detraction from fair Attempts, to which their Parts might render them equal. You will perceive them as they follow to be conceived in the form of Epitaphs, a sort of Writing which is wholly set apart for a short pointed Method of Praise.

On Orpheus, written by Antipater.

'No longer, Orpheus, shall thy sacred Strains Lead Stones, and Trees, and Beasts along the Plains; No longer sooth the boistrous Wind to sleep, Or still the Billows of the raging Deep: For thou art gone, the Muses mourn'd thy Fall In solemn Strains, thy Mother most of all. Ye Mortals, idly for your Sons ye moan, If thus a Goddess could not save her own.'

Observe here, that if we take the Fable for granted, as it was believed to be in that Age when the Epigram was written, the Turn appears to have Piety to the Gods, and a resigning Spirit in its Application. But if we consider the Point with respect to our present Knowledge, it will be less esteem'd; though the Author himself, because he believ'd it, may still be more valued than any one who should now write with a Point of the same Nature.

On Homer, by Alpheus of Mytilene.

'Still in our Ears Andromache complains, And still in sight the Fate of Troy remains; Still Ajax fights, still Hector's dragg'd along, Such strange Enchantment dwells in Homer's Song; Whose Birth cou'd more than one poor Realm adorn, For all the World is proud that he was born.'

The Thought in the first part of this is natural, and depending upon the Force of Poesy: In the latter part it looks as if it would aim at the History of seven Towns contending for the Honour of Homer's Birth-place; but when you expect to meet with that common Story, the Poet slides by, and raises the whole World for a kind of Arbiter, which is to end the Contention amongst its several Parts.

On Anacreon by Antipater.

'This Tomb be thine, Anacreon; all around Let Ivy wreath, let Flourets deck the Ground, And from its Earth, enrich'd with such a Prize, Let Wells of Milk and Streams of Wine arise: So will thine Ashes yet a Pleasure know, If any Pleasure reach the Shades below.'

The Poet here written upon, is an easy gay Author, and he who writes upon him has filled his own Head with the Character of his Subject. He seems to love his Theme so much, that he thinks of nothing but pleasing him as if he were still alive, by entering into his Libertine Spirit; so that the Humour is easy and gay, resembling Anacreon in its Air, raised by such Images, and pointed with such a Turn as he might have used. I give it a place here, because the Author may have design'd it for his Honour; and I take an Opportunity from it to advise others, that when they would praise, they cautiously avoid every looser Qualification, and fix only where there is a real Foundation in Merit.

On Euripides, by Ion.

'Divine Euripides, this Tomb we see So fair, is not a Monument for thee, So much as thou for it, since all will own Thy Name and lasting Praise adorns the Stone.'

The Thought here is fine, but its Fault is, that it is general, that it may belong to any great Man, because it points out no particular Character. It would be better, if when we light upon such a Turn, we join it with something that circumscribes and bounds it to the Qualities of our Subject. He who gives his Praise in gross, will often appear either to have been a Stranger to those he writes upon, or not to have found any thing in them which is Praise-worthy.

On Sophocles, by Simonides.

'Winde, gentle Ever-green, to form a Shade Around the Tomb where Sophocles is laid; Sweet Ivy winde thy Boughs, and intertwine With blushing Roses and the clustring Vine: Thus will thy lasting Leaves, with Beauties hung, Prove grateful Emblems of the Lays he sung; Whose Soul, exalted like a God of Wit, Among the Muses and the Graces writ.'

This Epigram I have open'd more than any of the former: The Thought towards the latter End seemed closer couched, so as to require an Explication. I fancied the Poet aimed at the Picture which is generally made of Apollo and the Muses, he sitting with his Harp in the Middle, and they around him. This look'd beautiful to my Thought, and because the Image arose before me out of the Words of the Original as I was reading it, I venture to explain them so.

On Menander, the Author unnamed.

'The very Bees, O sweet Menander, hung To taste the Muses Spring upon thy Tongue; The very Graces made the Scenes you writ Their happy Point of fine Expression hit. Thus still you live, you make your Athens shine, And raise its Glory to the Skies in thine.'

This Epigram has a respect to the Character of its Subject; for Menander writ remarkably with a Justness and Purity of Language. It has also told the Country he was born in, without either a set or a hidden Manner, while it twists together the Glory of the Poet and his Nation, so as to make the Nation depend upon his for an Encrease of its own.

I will offer no more Instances at present, to shew that they who deserve Praise have it returned them from different Ages. Let these which have been laid down, shew Men that Envy will not always prevail. And to the End that Writers may more successfully enliven the Endeavours of one another, let them consider, in some such Manner as I have attempted, what may be the justest Spirit and Art of Praise. It is indeed very hard to come up to it. Our Praise is trifling when it depends upon Fable; it is false when it depends upon wrong Qualifications; it means nothing when it is general; it is extreamly difficult to hit when we propose to raise Characters high, while we keep to them justly. I shall end this with transcribing that excellent Epitaph of Mr. Cowley, wherein, with a kind of grave and philosophick Humour, he very beautifully speaks of himself (withdrawn from the World, and dead to all the Interests of it) as of a Man really deceased. At the same time it is an Instruction how to leave the Publick with a good Grace.

Epitaphium Vivi Authoris.

'Hic, O Viator, sub Lare parvulo Couleius hic est conditus, hic jacet Defunctus Humani Laboris Sorte, supervacuaque Vita, Non Indecora pauperie nitens, Et non inerti Nobilis Otio, Vanoque dilectis popello Divitiis animosus hostis. Possis ut illum dicere mortuum En Terra jam nunc Quantula sufficit? Exempta sit Curis, Viator, Terra sit illa laevis, precare. Hic sparge Flores, sparge breves Rosas, Nam Vita gaudet Mortua Floribus, Herbisque Odoratis Corona Vatis adhuc Cinerem Calentem.'

[The Publication of these Criticisms having procured me the following Letter from a very ingenious Gentleman, I cannot forbear inserting it in the Volume, though it did not come soon enough to have a place in any of my single Papers.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'Having read over in your Paper, No. 551. some of the Epigrams made by the Grecian Wits, in commendation of their celebrated Poets, I could not forbear sending you another, out of the same Collection; which I take to be as great a Compliment to Homer, as any that has yet been paid him.

[Greek: Tis poth' ho ton Troiaes polemon, &c.]

Who first transcribed the famous Trojan War, And wise Ulysses' Acts, O Jove, make known: For since 'tis certain, Thine those Poems are, No more let Homer boast they are his own.

If you think it worthy of a Place in your Speculations, for ought I know (by that means) it may in time be printed as often in English, as it has already been in Greek, I am (like the rest of the World)

SIR,

Your great Admirer, G. R. 4th Dec.

The Reader may observe that the Beauty of this Epigram is different from that of any in the foregoing. An Irony is look'd upon as the finest Palliative of Praise; and very often conveys the noblest Panegyrick under the Appearance of Satire. Homer is here seemingly accused and treated as a Plagiary; but what is drawn up in the form of an Accusation is certainly, as my Correspondent observes, the greatest Compliment that could have been paid to that Divine Poet.]

Dear Mr. SPECTATOR,

I am a Gentleman of a pretty good Fortune, and of a Temper impatient of any thing which I think an Injury; however I always quarrelled according to Law, and instead of attacking my Adversary by the dangerous Method of Sword and Pistol, I made my Assaults by that more secure one of Writ or Warrant. I cannot help telling you, that either by the Justice of my Causes, or the Superiority of my Counsel, I have been generally successful; and to my great Satisfaction I can say it, that by three Actions of Slander, and half a dozen Trespasses, I have for several Years enjoy'd a perfect Tranquility in my Reputation and Estate. By these means also I have been made known to the Judges, the Serjeants of our Circuit are my intimate Friends, and the Ornamental Counsel pay a very profound Respect to one who has made so great a Figure in the Law. Affairs of Consequence having brought me to Town, I had the Curiosity t'other day to visit Westminster-Hall; and having placed my self in one of the Courts, expected to be most agreeably entertained. After the Court and Counsel were, with due Ceremony, seated, up stands a learned Gentleman, and began, When this Matter was last stirr'd before your Lordship: The next humbly moved to quash an Indictment; another complain'd that his Adversary had snapp'd a Judgment; the next informed the Court that his Client was stripp'd of his Possession; another begg'd Leave to acquaint his Lordship, that they had been saddled with Costs. At last up got a grave Serjeant, and told us his Client had been hung up a whole Term by a Writ of Error. At this I could bear it no longer, but came hither, and resolv'd to apply my self to your Honour to interpose with these Gentlemen, that they would leave off such low and unnatural Expressions: For surely tho' the Lawyers subscribe to hideous French and false Latin, yet they should let their Clients have a little decent and proper English for their Money. What Man that has a Value for a good Name would like to have it said in a publick Court, that Mr. such-a-one was stripp'd, saddled or hung up? This being what has escaped your Spectatorial Observation, be pleas'd to correct such an illiberal Cant among profess'd Speakers, and you'll infinitely oblige Your humble Servant, Philonicus.

Joe's Coffee-house, Novemb. 28.



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No. 552. Wednesday, December 3, 1712. Steele.



'—Quae praegravat artes Infra se positas extinctus amabitur idem.'

Hor.



As I was tumbling about the Town the other Day in an Hackney-Coach, and delighting my self with busy Scenes in the Shops of each Side of me, it came into my Head, with no small Remorse, that I had not been frequent enough in the Mention and Recommendation of the industrious Part of Mankind. It very naturally, upon this Occasion, touched my Conscience in particular, that I had not acquitted my self to my Friend Mr. Peter Motteux. [1] That industrious Man of Trade, and formerly Brother of the Quill, has dedicated to me a Poem upon Tea. It would injure him, as a Man of Business, if I did not let the World know that the Author of so good Verses writ them before he was concern'd in Traffick. In order to expiate my Negligence towards him, I immediately resolv'd to make him a Visit. I found his spacious Warehouses fill'd and adorn'd with Tea, China and Indian Ware. I could observe a beautiful Ordonnance of the whole; and such different and considerable Branches of Trade carried on, in the same House, I exulted in seeing dispos'd by a Poetical Head. In one place were exposed to view Silks of various Shades and Colours, rich Brocades, and the wealthiest Products of foreign Looms.

Here you might see the finest Laces held up by the fairest Hands, and there examin'd by the beauteous Eyes of the Buyers, the most delicate Cambricks, Muslins, and Linnens. I could not but congratulate my Friend on the humble, but, I hoped, beneficial Use he had made of his Talents, and wished I could be a Patron to his Trade, as he had been pleased to make me of his Poetry. The honest Man has, I know, that modest Desire of Gain which is peculiar to those who understand better Things than Riches: and I dare say he would be contented with much less than what is called Wealth at that Quarter of the Town which he inhabits, and will oblige all his Customers with Demands agreeable to the Moderation of his Desires.

Among other Omissions of which I have been also guilty, with relation to Men of Industry of a superior Order, I must acknowledge my Silence towards a Proposal frequently enclosed to me by Mr. Renatus Harris, Organ-Builder. The ambition of this Artificer is to erect an Organ in St. Paul's Cathedral, over the West Door, at the Entrance into the Body of the Church, which in Art and Magnificence shall transcend any Work of that kind ever before invented. The Proposal in perspicuous Language sets forth the Honour and Advantage such a Performance would be to the British Name, as well as that it would apply the Power of Sounds in a manner more amazingly forcible than, perhaps, has yet been known, and I am sure to an End much more worthy. Had the vast Sums which have been laid out upon Opera's without Skill or Conduct, and to no other Purpose but to suspend or vitiate our Understandings, been disposed this Way, we should now perhaps have an Engine so formed as to strike the Minds of half a People at once in a Place of Worship with a Forgetfulness of present Care and Calamity, and a Hope of endless Rapture, Joy, and Hallelujah hereafter.

When I am doing this Justice, I am not to forget the best Mechanick of my Acquaintance, that useful Servant to Science and Knowledge, Mr. John Rowley; but I think I lay a great Obligation on the Publick, by acquainting them with his Proposals for a Pair of new Globes. After his Preamble, he promises in the said Proposals that,

In the Celestial Globe,

'Care shall be taken that the fixed Stars be placed according to their true Longitude and Latitude, from the many and correct Observations of Hevelius, Cassini, Mr. Flamsteed, Reg. Astronomer, Dr. Halley Savilian Professor of Geometry in Oxon; and from whatever else can be procured to render the Globe more exact, instructive, and useful.

'That all the Constellations be drawn in a curious, new, and particular manner; each Star in so just, distinct, and conspicuous a Proportion, that its true Magnitude may be readily known by bare Inspection, according to the different Light and Sizes of the Stars. That the Track or Way of such Comets as have been well observ'd, but not hitherto expressed in any Globe, be carefully delineated in this.

In the Terrestrial Globe.

'That by reason the Descriptions formerly made, both in the English [and [2]] Dutch great Globes, are erroneous, Asia, Africa, and America, be drawn in a Manner wholly new; by which means it is to be noted, that the Undertakers will be obliged to alter the Latitude of some Places in 10 Degrees, the Longitude of others in 20 Degrees: besides which great and necessary Alterations, there be many remarkable Countries, Cities, Towns, Rivers, and Lakes, omitted in other Globes, inserted here according to the best Discoveries made by our late Navigators. Lastly, That the Course of the Trade-Winds, the Monsoons, and other Winds periodically shifting between the Tropicks, be visibly express'd.

'Now in Regard that this Undertaking is of so universal Use, as the Advancement of the most necessary Parts of the Mathematicks, as well as tending to the Honour of the British Nation, and that the Charge of carrying it on is very expensive; it is desired that all Gentlemen who are willing to promote so great a Work, will be pleased to subscribe on the following Conditions.

'I. The Undertakers engage to furnish each Subscriber with a Celestial and Terrestrial Globe, each of 30 Inches Diameter, in all Respects curiously adorned, the Stars gilded, the Capital Cities plainly distinguished, the Frames, Meridians, Horizons, Hour Circles and Indexes so exactly finished up, and accurately divided, that a Pair of these Globes will really appear in the Judgment of any disinterested and intelligent Person, worth Fifteen Pounds more than will be demanded for them by the Undertakers.

'II. Whosoever will be pleas'd to subscribe, and pay Twenty Five Pounds in the Manner following for a Pair of these Globes, either for their own Use, or to present them to any College in the Universities, or any publick Library or School, shall have his Coat of Arms, Name, Title, Seat, or Place of Residence, &c., inserted in some convenient Place of the Globe.

'III. That every Subscriber do at first pay down the Sum of Ten Pounds, and Fifteen Pounds more upon the delivery of each Pair of Globes perfectly fitted up. And that the said Globes be deliver'd within Twelve Months after the Number of Thirty Subscribers be compleated; and that the Subscribers be served with Globes in the Order in which they subscribed.

'IV. That a Pair of these Globes shall not hereafter to be sold to any Person but the Subscribers under Thirty Pounds.

'V. That if there be not thirty Subscribers within four Months after the first of December, 1712, the Money paid shall be return'd on Demand by Mr. John Warner Gold-smith near Temple-Bar, who shall receive and pay the same according to the above-mention'd Articles.

T.



[Footnote 1: See note on p. 288, 289, vol. ii. [Footnote 1 of No. 288.]

[Footnote 2: [or]]



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No. 553. Thursday, December 4, 1712. Addison.



'Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum.'

Hor.



The Project which I published on Monday last has brought me in several Packets of Letters. Among the rest I have receiv'd one from a certain Projector, wherein after having represented, that in all probability the Solemnity of opening my Mouth will draw together a great Confluence of Beholders, he proposes to me the hiring of Stationer's-Hall for the more convenient exhibiting of that Publick Ceremony. He undertakes to be at the Charge of it himself, provided he may have the erecting of Galleries on every side, and the letting of them out upon that Occasion. I have a Letter also from a Bookseller, petitioning me in a very humble manner, that he may have the Printing of the Speech which I shall make to the Assembly upon the first opening of my Mouth. I am informed from all Parts, that there are great Canvassings in the several Clubs about Town, upon the chusing of a proper Person to sit with me on those arduous Affairs, to which I have summoned them. Three Clubs have already proceeded to Election, whereof one has made a double Return. If I find that my Enemies shall take Advantage of my Silence to begin Hostilities upon me, or if any other Exigency of Affairs may so require, since I see Elections in so great a forwardness, we may possibly meet before the Day appointed; or if matters go on to my Satisfaction, I may perhaps put off the Meeting to a further Day; but of this Publick Notice shall be given.

In the mean time, I must confess that I am not a little gratify'd and oblig'd by that Concern which appears in this great City upon my present Design of laying down this Paper. It is likewise with much Satisfaction, that I find some of the most outlying Parts of the Kingdom alarm'd upon this Occasion, having receiv'd Letters to expostulate with me about it, from several of my Readers of the remotest Boroughs of Great Britain. Among these I am very well pleased with a Letter dated from Berwick upon Tweed, wherein my Correspondent compares the Office which I have for some time executed in these Realms to the Weeding of a great Garden; which, says he, it is not sufficient to weed once for all, and afterwards to give over, but that the Work must be continued daily, or the same Spots of Ground which are cleared for a while, will in a little time be over-run as much as ever. Another Gentleman lays before me several Enormities that are already sprouting, and which he believes will discover themselves in their Growth immediately after my Disappearance. There is no doubt, says he, but the Ladies Heads will shoot up as soon as they know they are no longer under the Spectator's Eye; and I have already seen such monstrous broad-brimmed Hats under the Arms of Foreigners, that I question not but they will overshadow the Island within a Month or two after the dropping of your Paper. But among all the Letters which are come to my hands, there is none so handsomely written as the following one, which I am the more pleased with, as it is sent me from Gentlemen who belong to a Body which I shall always Honour, and where (I cannot speak it without a secret Pride) my Speculations have met with a very kind Reception. It is usual for Poets, upon the publishing of their Works, to print before them such Copies of Verses as have been made in their Praise. Not that you must imagine they are pleased with their own Commendations, but because the elegant Compositions of their Friends should not be lost. I must make the same Apology for the Publication of the ensuing Letter, in which I have suppressed no Part of those Praises that are given my Speculations with too lavish and good-natured an Hand; though my Correspondents can witness for me, that at other times I have generally blotted out those Parts in the Letters which I have received from them.

Ọ

Oxford, Nov. 25.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'In spight of your Invincible Silence you have found out a Method of being the most agreeable Companion in the World: That kind of Conversation which you hold with the Town, has the good Fortune of being always pleasing to the Men of Taste and Leisure, and never offensive to those of Hurry and Business. You are never heard, but at what Horace calls dextro tempore, and have the Happiness to observe the politick Rule, which the same discerning Author gave his Friend, when he enjoin'd him to deliver his Book to Augustus.

'Si validus, si laetus erit, si denique poscet.'

'You never begin to talk, but when People are desirous to hear you; and I defy any one to be out of humour till you leave off. But I am led unawares into Reflections, foreign to the original Design of this Epistle; which was to let you know, that some unfeigned Admirers of your inimitable Papers, who could, without any Flattery, greet you with the Salutation used to the Eastern Monarchs, viz. O Spec, live for ever, have lately been under the same Apprehensions, with Mr. Philo-Spec; that the haste you have made to dispatch your best Friends portends no long Duration to your own short Visage. We could not, indeed, find any just Grounds for Complaint in the Method you took to dissolve that venerable Body: No, the World was not worthy of your Divine. WILL. HONEYCOMB could not, with any Reputation, live single any longer. It was high time for the TEMPLAR to turn himself to Coke: And Sir ROGER's dying was the wisest thing he ever did in his Life. It was, however, matter of great Grief to us, to think that we were in danger of losing so Elegant and Valuable an Entertainment. And we could not, without Sorrow, reflect that we were likely to have nothing to interrupt our Sips in a Morning, and to suspend our Coffee in mid-air, between our Lips and Right Ear, but the ordinary Trash of News-Papers. We resolved, therefore, not to part with you so. But since, to make use of your own Allusion, the Cherries began now to crowd the Market, and their Season was almost over, we consulted our future Enjoyments, and endeavoured to make the exquisite Pleasure that delicious Fruit gave our Taste as lasting as we could, and by drying them protract their stay beyond its natural Date. We own that thus they have not a Flavour equal to that of their juicy Bloom; but yet, under this Disadvantage, they pique the Palate, and become a Salver better than any other Fruit at its first Appearance. To speak plain, there are a Number of us who have begun your Works afresh, and meet two Nights in the Week in order to give you a Rehearing. We never come together without drinking your Health, and as seldom part without general Expressions of Thanks to you for our Night's Improvement. This we conceive to be a more useful Institution than any other Club whatever, not excepting even that of ugly Faces. We have one manifest Advantage over that renowned Society, with respect to Mr. Spectator's Company. For though they may brag, that you sometimes make your personal Appearance amongst them, it is impossible they should ever get a Word from you. Whereas you are with us the Reverse of what Phaedria would have his Mistress be in his Rival's Company, Present in your Absence. We make you talk as much and as long as we please; and let me tell you, you seldom hold your Tongue for the whole Evening. I promise my self you will look with an Eye of Favour upon a Meeting which owes its Original to a mutual Emulation among its Members, who shall shew the most profound Respect for your Paper; not but we have a very great Value for your Person: and I dare say you can no where find four more sincere Admirers, and humble Servants, than T. F., G. S., J. T., E. T.



* * * * *



No. 554. Friday, December 5, 1712. John Hughes.



'—tentanda Via est, qua me quoque possim Tollere humo, Victorque virum volitare per Ora.'

Virg.

I am obliged for the following Essay, as well as for that which lays down Rules out of Tully for Pronunciation and Action, to the Ingenious Author of a Poem just Published, Entitled, An Ode to the Creator of the World, occasioned by the Fragments of Orpheus.

It is a Remark made, as I remember, by a celebrated French Author, that no Man ever pushed his Capacity as far as it was able to extend. I shall not enquire whether this Assertion be strictly true. It may suffice to say, that Men of the greatest Application and Acquirements can look back upon many vacant Spaces, and neglected Parts of Time, which have slipped away from them unemployed; and there is hardly any one considering Person in the World, but is apt to fancy with himself, at some time or other, that if his Life were to begin again, he could fill it up better.

The Mind is most provoked to cast on it self this ingenuous Reproach, when the Examples of such Men are presented to it, as have far outshot the generality of their Species, in Learning, Arts, or any valuable Improvements.

One of the most extensive and improved Genius's we have had any Instance of in our own Nation, or in any other, was that of Sir Francis Bacon Lord Verulam. This great Man, by an extraordinary Force of Nature, Compass of Thought, and indefatigable Study, had amassed to himself such stores of Knowledge as we cannot look upon without Amazement. His Capacity seems to have grasped All that was revealed in Books before his Time; and not satisfied with that, he began to strike out new Tracks of Science, too many to be travelled over by any one Man, in the Compass of the longest Life. These, therefore, he could only mark down, like imperfect Coastings in Maps, or supposed Points of Land, to be further discovered, and ascertained by the Industry of After-Ages, who should proceed upon his Notices or Conjectures.

The Excellent Mr. Boyle was the Person, who seems to have been designed by Nature to succeed to the Labours and Enquiries of that extraordinary Genius I have just mentioned. By innumerable Experiments He, in a great Measure, filled up those Planns and Out-Lines of Science, which his Predecessor had sketched out. His Life was spent in the Pursuit of Nature, through a great Variety of Forms and Changes, and in the most rational, as well as devout Adoration of its Divine Author.

It would be impossible to name many Persons who have extended their Capacities so far as these two, in the Studies they pursued; but my learned Readers, on this Occasion, will naturally turn their Thoughts to a Third [1], who is yet living, and is likewise the Glory of our own Nation. The Improvements which others had made in Natural and Mathematical Knowledge have so vastly increased in his Hands, as to afford at once a wonderful Instance how great the Capacity is of a Human Soul, and how inexhaustible the Subject of its Enquiries; so true is that Remark in Holy Writ, that, though a wise Man seek to find out the Works of God from the Beginning to the End, yet shall he not be able to do it.

I cannot help mentioning here one Character more, of a different kind indeed from these, yet such a one as may serve to shew the wonderful Force of Nature and of Application, and is the most singular Instance of an Universal Genius I have ever met with. The Person I mean is Leonardo da Vinci, an Italian Painter, descended from a noble Family in Tuscany, about the beginning of the sixteenth Century. In his Profession of History-Painting he was so great a Master, that some have affirmed he excelled all who went before him[. It is certain], that he raised the Envy of Michael Angelo, who was his Contemporary, and that from the Study of his Works Raphael himself learned his best Manner of Designing. He was a Master too in Sculpture and Architecture, and skilful in Anatomy, Mathematicks, and Mechanicks. The Aquaeduct from the River Adda to Milan, is mentioned as a Work of his Contrivance. He had learned several Languages, and was acquainted with the Studies of History, Philosophy, Poetry, and Musick. Though it is not necessary to my present Purpose, I cannot but take notice, that all who have writ of him mention likewise his Perfections of Body. The Instances of his Strength are almost incredible. He is described to have been of a well-formed Person, and a Master of all genteel Exercises. And lastly, we are told that his moral Qualities were agreeable to his natural and intellectual Endowments, and that he was of an honest and generous Mind, adorned with great Sweetness of Manners. I might break off the Account of him here, but I imagine it will be an Entertainment to the Curiosity of my Readers, to find so remarkable a Character distinguished by as remarkable a Circumstance at his Death. The Fame of his Works having gained him an universal Esteem, he was invited to the Court of France, where, after some time, he fell sick; and Francis the First coming to see him, he raised himself in his Bed to acknowledge the Honour which was done him by that Visit. The King embraced him, and Leonardo fainting at the same Instant, expired in the Arms of that great Monarch.

It is impossible to attend to such Instances as these, without being raised into a Contemplation on the wonderful Nature of an Human Mind, which is capable of such Progressions in Knowledge, and can contain such a Variety of Ideas without Perplexity or Confusion. How reasonable is it from hence to infer its Divine Original? And whilst we find unthinking Matter endued with a Natural Power to last for ever, unless annihilated by Omnipotence, how absurd would it be to imagine, that a Being so much Superior to it should not have the same Privilege?

At the same time it is very surprizing, when we remove our Thoughts from such Instances as I have mentioned, to consider those we so frequently meet with in the Accounts of barbarous Nations among the Indians; where we find Numbers of People who scarce shew the first Glimmerings of Reason, and seem to have few Ideas above those of Sense and Appetite. These, methinks, appear like large Wilds, or vast uncultivated Tracts of Human Nature; and when we compare them with Men of the most exalted Characters in Arts and Learning, we find it difficult to believe that they are Creatures of the same Species.

Some are of Opinion that the Souls of Men are all naturally equal, and that the great Disparity we so often observe, arises from the different Organization or Structure of the Bodies to which they are United. But whatever constitutes this first Disparity, the next great Difference which we find between Men in their several Acquirements is owing to accidental Differences in their Education, Fortunes, or Course of Life. The Soul is a kind of rough Diamond, which requires Art, Labour, and Time to polish it. For want of which, many a good natural Genius is lost, or lies unfashioned, like a Jewel in the Mine.

One of the strongest Incitements to excel in such Arts and Accomplishments as are in the highest Esteem among Men, is the natural Passion which the Mind of Man has for Glory; which, though it may be faulty in the Excess of it, ought by no means to be discouraged. Perhaps some Moralists are too severe in beating down this Principle, which seems to be a Spring implanted by Nature to give Motion to all the latent Powers of the Soul, and is always observed to exert it self with the greatest Force in the most generous Dispositions. The Men whose Characters have shone the brightest among the ancient Romans, appear to have been strongly animated by this Passion. Cicero, whose Learning and Services to his Country are so well known, was enflamed by it to an extravagant degree, and warmly presses Lucceius [2], who was composing a History of those Times, to be very particular and zealous in relating the Story of his Consulship; and to execute it speedily, that he might have the Pleasure of enjoying in his Life-time some Part of the [Honour [3]] which he foresaw wou'd be paid to his Memory. This was the Ambition of a great Mind; but he is faulty in the Degree of it, and cannot refrain from solliciting the Historian upon this Occasion to neglect the strict Laws of History, and, in praising him, even to exceed the Bounds of Truth. The younger Pliny appears to have had the same Passion for Fame, but accompanied with greater Chastness and Modesty. His Ingenuous manner of owning it to a Friend, who had prompted him to undertake some great Work, is exquisitely beautiful, and raises him to a certain Grandeur above the Imputation of Vanity. I must confess, says he, that nothing employs my Thoughts more than the Desire I have of perpetuating my Name; which in my Opinion is a Design worthy of a Man, at least of such a one, who being conscious of no Guilt, is not afraid to be remember'd by Posterity [4].

I think I ought not to conclude, without interesting all my Readers in the Subject of this Discourse: I shall therefore lay it down as a Maxim, that though all are not capable of shining in Learning or the Politer Arts; yet every one is capable of excelling in something. The Soul has in this Respect a certain vegetative Power, which cannot lie wholly idle. If it is not laid out and cultivated into a regular and beautiful Garden, it will of it self shoot up in Weeds or Flowers of a wilder Growth.



[Footnote 1: Newton.]

[Footnote 2: Epist. ad Diversos, v. 12.]

[Footnote 3: [Glory]]

[Footnote 4: Lib. v. ep. 8, to Titinius Capito. In which, also, Pliny quotes the bit of Virgil taken for the motto of this paper.]



* * * * *



No. 555. Saturday, November 6, 1712. Steele.



'—Respue quod non es—'

Pers.



All the Members of the imaginary Society, which were described in my First Papers, having disappear'd one after another, it is high time for the Spectator himself to go off the Stage. But, now I am to take my Leave, I am under much greater Anxiety than I have known for the Work of any Day since I undertook this Province. It is much more difficult to converse with the World in a real than a personated Character. That might pass for Humour in the Spectator, which would look like Arrogance in a Writer who sets his Name to his Work. The Fictitious Person might contemn those who disapproved him, and extoll his own Performances, without giving Offence. He might assume a mock-Authority, without being looked upon as vain and conceited. The Praises or Censures of himself fall only upon the Creature of his Imaginations; and if any one finds fault with him, the Author may reply with the Philosopher of old, Thou dost but beat the Case of Anaxarchus. When I speak in my own private Sentiments, I cannot but address my self to my Readers in a more submissive manner, and with a just Gratitude, for the kind Reception which they have given to these Dayly Papers that have been published for almost the space of Two Years last past.

I hope the Apology I have made as to the Licence allowable to a feigned Character, may excuse any thing which has been said in these Discourses of the Spectator and his Works; but the Imputation of the grossest Vanity would still dwell upon me, if I did not give some Account by what Means I was enabled to keep up the Spirit of so long and approved a Performance. All the Papers marked with a C, an L, an I, or an O, that is to say, all the Papers which I have distinguished by any Letter in the name of the Muse CLIO, were given me by the Gentleman, of whose Assistance I formerly boasted in the Preface and concluding Leaf of my Tatlers. I am indeed much more proud of his long-continued Friendship, than I should be of the Fame of being thought the Author of any Writings which he himself is capable of producing. I remember when I finished the Tender Husband, I told him there was nothing I so ardently wished, as that we might some time or other publish a Work written by us both, which should bear the Name of the Monument, in Memory of our Friendship. I heartily wish what I have done here, were as Honorary to that Sacred Name, as Learning, Wit, and Humanity render those Pieces which I have taught the Reader how to distinguish for his. When the Play above-mentioned was last Acted, there were so many applauded Stroaks in it which I had from the same Hand, that I thought very meanly of my self that I had never publickly acknowledged them. After I have put other Friends upon importuning him to publish Dramatick, as well as other Writings he has by him, I shall end what I think I am obliged to say on this Head, by giving my Reader this Hint for the better judging of my Productions, that the best Comment upon them would be an Account when the Patron to the Tender Husband was in England, or Abroad.

The Reader will also find some Papers which are marked with the Letter X, for which he is obliged to the Ingenious Gentleman who diverted the Town with the Epilogue to the Distressed Mother. I might have owned these several Papers with the free Consent of these Gentlemen, who did not write them with a design of being known for the Authors. But as a candid and sincere Behaviour ought to be preferred to all other Considerations, I would not let my Heart reproach me with a Consciousness of having acquired a Praise which is not my Right.

The other Assistances which I have had, have been conveyed by Letter, sometimes by whole Papers, and other times by short Hints from unknown Hands. I have not been able to trace Favours of this kind, with any Certainty, but to the following Names, which I place in the Order wherein I received the Obligation, tho' the first I am going to name, can hardly be mentioned in a List wherein he would not deserve the Precedence. The Persons to whom I am to make these Acknowledgments are Mr. Henry Martyn, Mr. Pope, Mr. Hughs, Mr. Carey of New-College in Oxford, Mr. Tickell of Queen's in the same University, Mr. Parnelle, and Mr. Eusden of Trinity in Cambridge. Thus, to speak in the Language of my late Friend Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, I have Ballanced my Accounts with all my Creditors for Wit and Learning. But as these excellent Performances would not have seen the Light without the means of this Paper, I may still arrogate to my self the Merit of their being communicated to the Publick.

I have nothing more to add, but having swelled this Work to five hundred and fifty five Papers, they will be disposed into seven Volumes, four of which are already publish'd, and the three others in the Press. It will not be demanded of me why I now leave off, tho' I must own my self obliged to give an Account to the Town of my Time hereafter; since I retire when their Partiality to me is so great, that an Edition of the former Volumes of Spectators of above Nine thousand each Book is already sold off, and the Tax on each half-Sheet has brought into the Stamp-Office one Week with another above L20. a-Week arising from this single Paper, notwithstanding it at first reduced it to less than half the number that was usually Printed before this Tax was laid.

I humbly beseech the Continuance of this Inclination to favour what I may hereafter produce, and hope I have in many Occurrences of Life tasted so deeply of Pain and Sorrow, that I am Proof against much more prosperous Circumstances than any Advantages to which my own Industry can possibly exalt me.

I am, My Good-natured Reader, Your most Obedient, Most Obliged Humble Servant, Richard Steele.

Vos valete et plaudite [1]. Ter.

[The following Letter [2]] regards an ingenious Sett of Gentlemen, who have done me the Honour to make me one of their Society.

Mr. SPECTATOR, Dec. 4, 1712.

'The Academy of Painting, lately established in London, having done you and themselves the Honour to chuse you one of their Directors; that Noble and Lovely Art, which before was entitled to your Regards, as a Spectator, has an additional Claim to you, and you seem to be under a double Obligation to take some Care of her Interests.

'The Honour of our Country is also concerned in the matter I am going to lay before you: we (and perhaps other Nations as well as we) have a National false Humility as well as a National Vain-Glory; and tho' we boast our selves to excel all the World in things wherein we are out-done abroad, in other things we attribute to others a Superiority which we our selves possess. This is what is done, particularly, in the Art of Portrait or Face-Painting.

'Painting is an Art of a vast Extent, too great by much for any mortal Man to be in full possession of, in all its Parts; 'tis enough if any one succeed in painting Faces, History, Battels, Landscapes, Sea-Pieces, Fruit, Flowers, or Drolls, &c. Nay, no Man ever was excellent in all the Branches (tho' [many [3]] in Number) of these several Arts, for a distinct Art I take upon me to call every one of those several Kinds of Painting.

'And as one Man may be a good Landscape-Painter, but unable to paint a Face or a History tollerably well, and so of the rest; one Nation may excel in some kinds of Painting, and other kinds may thrive better in other Climates.

'Italy may have the Preference of all other Nations for History-Painting; Holland for Drolls, and a neat finished Manner of Working; France, for Gay, Janty, Fluttering Pictures; and England for Portraits: but to give the Honour of every one of these kinds of Painting to any one of those Nations on account of their Excellence in any of these parts of it, is like adjudging the Prize of Heroick, Dramatick, Lyrick or Burlesque Poetry, to him who has done well in any one of them.

'Where there are the greatest Genius's, and most Helps and Encouragements, 'tis reasonable to suppose an Art will arrive to the greatest Perfection: By this Rule let us consider our own Country with respect to Face-Painting. No Nation in the World delights so much in having their own, or Friends, or Relations Pictures; whether from their National Good-Nature, or having a love to Painting, and not being encouraged in the great Article of Religious Pictures, which the Purity of our Worship refuses the free use of, or from whatever other Cause. Our Helps are not inferior to those of any other People, but rather they are greater; for what the Antique Statues and Bas-reliefs which Italy enjoys are to the History-Painters, the Beautiful and noble Faces with which England is confessed to abound, are to Face-Painters; and besides we have the greatest number of the Works of the best Masters in that kind of any People, not without a competent number of those of the most excellent in every other part of Painting. And for Encouragement, the Wealth and Generosity of the English Nation affords that in such a degree, as Artists have no reason to complain.

'And accordingly in Fact, Face-Painting is no where so well performed as in England: I know not whether it has lain in your way to observe it, but I have, and pretend to be a tolerable Judge. I have seen what is done abroad, and can assure you, that the Honour of that Branch of Painting is justly due to us. I appeal to the judicious Observers for the Truth of what I assert. If Foreigners have oftentimes or even for the most part excelled our Natives, it ought to be imputed to the Advantages they have met with here, join'd to their own Ingenuity and Industry; nor has any one Nation distinguished themselves so as to raise an Argument in favour of their Country: but it is to be observed, that neither French nor Italians, nor any one of either Nation, notwithstanding all our Prejudices in their favour have, or ever had, for any considerable time, any Character among us as Face-Painters.

'This Honour is due to our own Country; and has been so for near an Age: So that instead of going to Italy, or elsewhere, one that designs for Portrait-Painting ought to study in England. Hither such should come from Holland, France, Italy, Germany, &c. as he that intends to practice any other kind of Painting, should go to those Parts where 'tis in greatest Perfection. 'Tis said the Blessed Virgin descended from Heaven, to sit to St Luke; I dare venture to affirm, that if she should desire another Madonna to be painted by the Life, she would come to England; and am of opinion that your present President, Sir Godfrey Kneller, from his Improvement since he arrived in this Kingdom, would perform that Office better than any Foreigner living. I am, with all possible Respect,

SIR Your most Humble, and Most Obedient Servant, &c.

The ingenious Letters sign'd the Weather-Glass, with several others, were received, but came too late.

(POSTSCRIPT.

It had not come to my Knowledge, when I left off the Spectator, that I owe several excellent Sentiments and agreeable Pieces in this Work to Mr. Ince of Grey's-Inn. [4] R. STEELE.)



[Footnote 1: Transposed in the volume to this place. In the number it stood last; following the next letter.]

[Footnote 2: [Give me leave before I conclude to insert a Letter which]]

[Footnote 3: [few]]

[Footnote 4: Mr. Richard Ince, a good Greek scholar, who became Comptroller of Army Accounts, and inherited a fortune, died in 1758.]



* * * * *



WILLIAM HONEYCOMB, ESQ. [1]

The Seven former Volumes of the Spectator having been Dedicated to some of the most celebrated Persons of the Age, I take leave to Inscribe this Eighth and Last to You, as to a Gentleman who hath ever been ambitious of appearing in the best Company.

You are now wholly retired from the busie Part of Mankind, and at leisure to reflect upon your past Achievements; for which reason, I look upon You as a Person very well qualified for a Dedication.

I may possibly disappoint my Readers, and your self too, if I do not endeavour on this Occasion to make the World acquainted with your Virtues. And here, Sir, I shall not compliment You upon your Birth, Person, or Fortune; nor any other the like Perfections, which You possess whether You will or no: But shall only touch upon those, which are of your own acquiring, and in which every one must allow You have a real Merit.

Your janty Air and easy Motion, the Volubility of your Discourse, the Suddenness of your Laugh, the Management of your Snuff-Box, with the Whiteness of your Hands and Teeth (which have justly gained You the Envy of the most polite part of the Male World, and the Love of the greatest Beauties in the Female) are intirely to be ascribed to your own personal Genius and Application.

You are formed for these Accomplishments by a happy Turn of Nature, and have finished your self in them by the utmost Improvements of Art. A Man that is defective in either of these Qualifications (whatever may be the secret Ambition of his Heart) must never hope to make the Figure You have done, among the fashionable part of his Species. It is therefore no wonder, we see such Multitudes of aspiring young Men fall short of You in all these Beauties of your Character, notwithstanding the Study and Practice of them is the whole Business of their Lives. But I need not tell You that the free and disengaged Behaviour of a fine Gentleman makes as many aukward Beaux, as the Easiness of your Favourite Waller hath made insipid Poets.

At present You are content to aim all your Charms at your own Spouse, without further Thought of Mischief to any others of the Sex. I know you had formerly a very great Contempt for that Pedantick Race of Mortals who call themselves Philosophers; and yet, to your Honour be it spoken, there is not a Sage of them all could have better acted up to their Precepts in one of the most important Points of Life: I mean in that Generous Dis-regard of Popular Opinion, which you showed some Years ago, when you chose for your Wife an obscure young Woman, who doth not indeed pretend to an ancient Family, but has certainly as many Fore-fathers as any Lady in the Land, if she could but reckon up their Names.

I must own I conceived very extraordinary hopes of you from the Moment that you confessed your Age, and from eight and forty (where you had stuck so many Years) very ingenuously step'd into your Grand Climacterick. Your Deportment has since been very venerable and becoming. If I am rightly informed, You make a regular Appearance every Quarter-Sessions among your Brothers of the Quorum; and if things go on as they do, stand fair for being a Colonel of the Militia. I am told that your Time passes away as agreeably in the Amusements of a Country Life, as it ever did in the Gallantries of the Town: And that you now take as much pleasure in the Planting of young Trees, as you did formerly in the Cutting down of your Old ones. In short, we hear from all Hands that You are thoroughly reconciled to your dirty Acres, and have not too much Wit to look into your own Estate.

After having spoken thus much of my Patron, I must take the Privilege of an Author in saying something of my self. I shall therefore beg leave to add, that I have purposely omitted setting those Marks to the End of every Paper, which appeared in my former Volumes, that You may have an Opportunity of showing Mrs. Honeycomb the Shrewdness of your Conjectures, by ascribing every Speculation to its proper Author: Though You know how often many profound Criticks in Style and Sentiments have very judiciously erred in this Particular, before they were let into the Secret. I am, SIR, Your most Faithful, Humble Servant, THE SPECTATOR.



(THE Bookseller to the Reader.

In the Six hundred and thirty second Spectator, the Reader will find an Account of the Rise of this Eighth and Last Volume.

_I have not been able to prevail upon the several Gentlemen who were concerned in this Work to let me acquaint the World with their Names.

Perhaps it will be unnecessary to inform the Reader, that no other Papers, which have appeared under the Title of_ Spectator, _since the closing of this Eighth Volume, were written by any of those Gentlemen who had a Hand in this or the former Volumes_.)



[Footnote 1: This Dedication to Addison's supplementary Spectator, begun a year and a half after the close of Steele's, is thought to be by Eustace Budgell.]



* * * * *



No. 556. Friday, June 18, 1714. Addison. [1]

To be continued every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

'Qualis ubi in lucem coluber, mala gramina, pastus, Frigida sub terra tumidum quem bruma tegebat; Nunc positis novus exuviis, nitidusque juventa, Lubrica convolvit sublato pectore terga Arduus ad solem, et linguis micat ore trisulcis.'

Virg.



Upon laying down the Office of SPECTATOR, I acquainted the World with my Design of electing a new Club, and of opening my Mouth in it after a most solemn Manner. Both the Election and the Ceremony are now past; but not finding it so easy as I at first imagined, to break thro' a Fifty Years Silence, I would not venture into the World under the character of a Man who pretends to talk like other People, till I had arrived at a full Freedom of Speech.

I shall reserve for another time the History of such Club or Clubs of which I am now a Talkative, but unworthy Member; and shall here give an Account of this surprising Change which has been produced in me, and which I look upon to be as remarkable an Accident as any recorded in History, since that which happened to the Son of Croesus, after having been many Years as much Tongue-tied as my self.

Upon the first opening of my Mouth, I made a Speech consisting of about half a Dozen well-turned Periods; but grew so very hoarse upon it, that for three Days together, instead of finding the use of my Tongue, I was afraid that I had quite lost it. Besides, the unusual Extension of my Muscles on this Occasion, made my Face ake on both Sides to such a Degree, that nothing but an invincible Resolution and Perseverance could have prevented me from falling back to my Monosyllables. I afterwards made several Essays towards speaking; and that I might not be startled at my own Voice, which has happen'd to me more than once, I used to read aloud in my Chamber, and have often stood in the Middle of the Street to call a Coach, when I knew there was none within hearing.

When I was thus grown pretty well acquainted with my own Voice, I laid hold of all Opportunities to exert it. Not caring however to speak much by my self, and to draw upon me the whole Attention of those I conversed with, I used, for some time, to walk every Morning in the Mall, and talk in Chorus with a Parcel of Frenchmen. I found my Modesty greatly relieved by the communicative Temper of this Nation, who are so very sociable, as to think they are never better Company, than when they are all opening at the same time.

I then fancied I might receive great Benefit from Female Conversation, and that I should have a Convenience of talking with the greater Freedom, when I was not under any Impediment of thinking: I therefore threw my self into an Assembly of Ladies, but could not for my Life get in a Word among them; and found that if I did not change my Company, I was in Danger of being reduced to my primitive Taciturnity.

The Coffee-houses have ever since been my chief Places of Resort, where I have made the greatest Improvements; in order to which I have taken a particular Care never to be of the same Opinion with the Man I conversed with. I was a Tory at Button's, and a Whig at Childe's; a Friend to the Englishman, or an Advocate for the Examiner, as it best served my Turn; some fancy me a great Enemy to the French King, though, in reality, I only make use of him for a Help to Discourse. In short, I wrangle and dispute for Exercise; and have carried this Point so far that I was once like to have been run through the Body for making a little too free with my Betters.

In a Word, I am quite another Man to what I was.

'—Nil fuit unquam Tam dispar sibi—'

My old Acquaintance scarce know me; nay I was asked the other Day by a Jew at Jonathan's, whether I was not related to a dumb Gentleman, who used to come to that Coffee-house? But I think I^never was better pleased in my Life than about a Week ago, when, as I was battling it across the Table with a young Templar, his Companion gave him a Pull by the Sleeve, begging him to come away, for that the old Prig would talk him to Death.

Being now a very good Proficient in Discourse, I shall appear in the World with this Addition to my Character, that my Countrymen may reap the Fruits of my new-acquired Loquacity.

Those who have been present at public Disputes in the University, know that it is usual to maintain Heresies for Argument's sake. I have heard a Man a most impudent Socinian for Half an Hour, who has been an Orthodox Divine all his Life after. I have taken the same Method to accomplish my self in the Gift of Utterance, having talked above a Twelve-month, not so much for the Benefit of my Hearers as of my self. But since I have now gained the Faculty, I have been so long endeavouring after, I intend to make a right Use of it, and shall think my self obliged, for the future, to speak always in Truth and Sincerity of Heart. While a Man is learning to fence, he practises both on Friend and Foe; but when he is a Master in the Art, he never exerts it but on what he thinks the right Side.

That this last Allusion may not give my Reader a wrong Idea of my Design in this Paper, I must here inform him, that the Author of it is of no Faction, that he is a Friend to no Interests but those of Truth and Virtue, nor a Foe to any but those of Vice and Folly. Though I make more Noise in the World than I used to do, I am still resolved to act in it as an indifferent SPECTATOR. It is not my Ambition to encrease the Number either of Whigs or Tories, but of wise and good Men, and I could heartily wish there were not Faults common to both Parties which afford me sufficient Matter to work upon, without descending to those which are peculiar to either.

If in a Multitude of Counsellors there is Safety, we ought to think our selves the securest Nation in the World. Most of our Garrets are inhabited by Statesmen, who watch over the Liberties of their Country, and make a Shift to keep themselves from starving by taking into their Care the Properties of their Fellow-Subjects.

As these Politicians of both Sides have already worked the Nation into a most unnatural Ferment, I shall be so far from endeavouring to raise it to a greater Height, that on the contrary, it shall be the chief Tendency of my Papers, to inspire my Countrymen with a mutual Good-will and Benevolence. Whatever Faults either Party may be guilty of, they are rather inflamed than cured by those Reproaches, which they cast upon one another. The most likely Method of rectifying any Man's Conduct, is, by recommending to him the Principles of Truth and Honour, Religion and Virtue; and so long as he acts with an Eye to these Principles, whatever Party he is of, he cannot fail of being a good Englishman, and a Lover of his Country.

As for the Persons concerned in this Work, the Names of all of them, or at least of such as desire it, shall be published hereafter: Till which time I must entreat the courteous Reader to suspend his Curiosity, and rather to consider what is written, than who they are that write it.

Having thus adjusted all necessary Preliminaries with my Reader, I shall not trouble him with any more prefatory Discourses, but proceed in my old Method, and entertain him with Speculations on every useful Subject that falls in my Way.



[Footnote 1: Addison's papers are marked on the authority of Tickell.]



* * * * *



No. 557. From Friday, June 18 to Monday, June 21, 1714. Addison.



'Quippe domum timet ambiguam, Tyriosque bilingues.'

Virg.



There is nothing, says Plato, so delightful, as the hearing or the speaking of Truth. For this Reason there is no Conversation so agreeable as that of the Man of Integrity, who hears without any Intention to betray, and speaks without any Intention to deceive.

Among all the Accounts which are given of Cato, I do not remember one that more redounds to his Honour than the following Passage related by Plutarch. As an Advocate was pleading the Cause of his Client before one of the Praetors, he could only produce a single Witness in a Point where the Law required the Testimony of two Persons; upon which the Advocate insisted on the Integrity of that Person whom he had produced: but the Praetor told him, That where the Law required two Witnesses he would not accept of one, tho' it were Cato himself. Such a Speech from a Person who sat at the Head of a Court of Justice, while Cato was still living, shews us, more than a thousand Examples, the high Reputation this great Man had gained among his Contemporaries upon the Account of his Sincerity.

When such an inflexible Integrity is a little softened and qualified by the Rules of Conversation and Good-breeding, there is not a more shining Virtue in the whole Catalogue of Social Duties. A Man however ought to take great Care not to polish himself out of his Veracity, nor to refine his Behaviour to the Prejudice of his Virtue.

This Subject is exquisitely treated in the most elegant Sermon of the great British Preacher [1]. I shall beg Leave to transcribe out of it two or three Sentences, as a proper Introduction to a very curious Letter, which I shall make the chief Entertainment of this Speculation.

'The old English Plainness and Sincerity, that generous Integrity of Nature, and Honesty of Disposition, which always argues true Greatness of Mind, and is usually accompanied with undaunted Courage and Resolution, is in a great Measure lost among us.

'The Dialect of Conversation is now-a-days so swelled with Vanity and Compliment, and so surfeited (as I may say) of Expressions of Kindness and Respect, that if a Man that lived an Age or two ago should return into the World again, he would really want a Dictionary to help him to understand his own Language, and to know the true intrinsick Value of the Phrase in Fashion; and would hardly, at first, believe at what a low Rate the highest Strains and Expressions of Kindness imaginable do commonly pass in current Payment; and when he should come to understand it, it would be a great while before he could bring himself with a good Countenance and a good Conscience, to converse with Men upon equal Terms and in their own Way.'

I have by me a Letter which I look upon as a great Curiosity, and which may serve as an Exemplification to the foregoing Passage, cited out of this most excellent Prelate. It is said to have been written in King Charles II.'s Reign by the Ambassador of Bantam [2], a little after his Arrival in England.

Master,

'The People, where I now am, have Tongues further from their Hearts than from London to Bantam, and thou knowest the Inhabitants of one of these Places does not know what is done in the other. They call thee and thy Subjects Barbarians, because we speak what we mean; and account themselves a civilized People, because they speak one thing and mean another: Truth they call Barbarity, and Falsehood Politeness. Upon my first landing, one who was sent from the King of this Place to meet me told me, That he was extremely sorry for the Storm I had met with just before my Arrival. I was troubled to hear him grieve and afflict himself upon my Account; but in less than a Quarter of an Hour he smiled, and was as merry as if nothing had happened. Another who came with him told me by my Interpreter, He should be glad to do me any Service that lay in his Power. Upon which I desir'd him to carry one of my Portmantaus for me, but instead of serving me according to his Promise, he laughed, and bid another do it. I lodged, the first Week, at the House of one, who desired me to think my self at home, and to consider his House as my own. Accordingly, I the next Morning began to knock down one of the Walls of it, in order to let in the fresh Air, and had packed up some of the Houshold-Goods, of which I intended to have made thee a Present: But the false Varlet no sooner saw me falling to Work, but he sent Word to desire me to give over, for that he would have no such Doings in his House. I had not been long in this Nation, before I was told by one, for whom I had asked a certain Favour from the Chief of the King's Servants, whom they here call the Lord-Treasurer, That I had eternally obliged him. I was so surpriz'd at his Gratitude, that I could not forbear saying, What Service is there which one Man can do for another, that can oblige him to all Eternity! However I only asked him, for my Reward, that he would lend me his eldest Daughter during my Stay in this Country; but I quickly found that he was as treacherous as the rest of his Countrymen.

'At my first going to Court, one of the great Men almost put me out of Countenance, by asking ten thousand Pardons of me for only treading by Accident upon my Toe. They call this kind of Lye a Compliment; for when they are Civil to a great Man, they tell him Untruths, for which thou wouldst order any of thy Officers of State to receive a hundred Blows upon his Foot. I do not know how I shall negociate any thing with this People, since there is so little Credit to be given to 'em. When I go to see the King's Scribe, I am generally told that he is not at home, tho' perhaps I saw him go into his House almost the very Moment before. Thou wouldest fancy that the whole Nation are Physicians, for the first Question they always ask me, is, how I do: I have this Question put to me above a hundred times a Day. Nay, they are not only thus inquisitive after my Health, but wish it in a more solemn Manner, with a full Glass in their Hands, every time I sit with them at Table, tho' at the same time they would perswade me to drink their Liquors in such Quantities as I have found by Experience will make me sick. They often pretend to pray for thy Health also in the same Manner; but I have more Reason to expect it from the Goodness of thy Constitution, than the Sincerity of their Wishes. May thy Slave escape in Safety from this doubled-tongued Race of Men, and live to lay himself once more at thy Feet in thy Royal City of Bantam.'



[Footnote 1: Tillotson. The Sermon 'Of Sincerity Towards God and Man.' Works, Vol. II., p. 6, folio ed.]

[Footnote 2: In 1682.]



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No. 558. Wednesday, June 23, 1714. Addison.



'Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo, quam sibi sortem Seu ratio dederit, seu fors objecerit, illa Contentus vivat: laudet diversa sequentes? O Fortunati mercatores, gravis annis Miles ait, multo jam fractus membra labore! Contra mercator, navim jactantibus austris, Militia est potior. Quid enim? concurritur? horae Momenta cita mors venit, aut victoria laeta. Agricolam laudat juris legumque peritus, Sub galli cantum consultor ubi ostia pulsat. Ille, datis vadibus, qui rure extractus in urbem est, Solos felices viventes clamat in urbe. Caetera de genere hoc (adeo sunt multa) loquacem Delassare valent Fabium. Ne te morer, audi Quo rem deducam. Si quis Deus, en ego dicat, Jam faciam quod vultis: eris tu, qui modo miles, Mercator: tu consultus modo, rusticus. Hinc vos, Vos hinc mutatis discedite partibus. Eja, Quid statis? Nolint. Atque licet esse beatis.'

Hor.



It is a celebrated Thought of Socrates, that if all the Misfortunes of Mankind were cast into a publick Stock, in order to be equally distributed among the whole Species, those who now think themselves the most unhappy, would prefer the Share they are already possess'd of, before that which would fall to them by such a Division. Horace has carried this Thought a great deal further in the Motto of my Paper, which implies that the Hardships or Misfortunes we lye under, are more easy to us than those of any other Person would be, in case we could change Conditions with him.

As I was ruminating on these two Remarks, and seated in my Elbow-Chair, I insensibly fell asleep; when, on a sudden, methought there was a Proclamation made by Jupiter, that every Mortal should bring in his Griefs and Calamities, and throw them together in a Heap. There was a large Plain appointed for this Purpose. I took my Stand in the Center of it, and saw with a great deal of Pleasure the whole human Species marching one after another and throwing down their several Loads, which immediately grew up into a prodigious Mountain that seemed to rise above the Clouds.

There was a certain Lady of a thin airy Shape, who was very active in this Solemnity. She carried a magnifying Glass in one of her Hands, and was cloathed in a loose flowing Robe, embroidered with several Figures of Fiends and Spectres, that discovered themselves in a Thousand chimerical Shapes, as her Garment hovered in the Wind. There was something wild and distracted in her Look. Her Name was FANCY. She led up every Mortal to the appointed Place, after having very officiously assisted him in making up his Pack, and laying it upon his Shoulders. My Heart melted within me to see my Fellow-Creatures groaning under their respective Burthens, and to consider that prodigious Bulk of human Calamities which lay before me.

There were however several Persons who gave me great Diversion upon this Occasion. I observed one bringing in a Fardel very carefully concealed under an old embroidered Cloak, which, upon his throwing it into the Heap, I discovered to be Poverty. Another, after a great deal of puffing, threw down his Luggage; which, upon examining, I found to be his Wife.

There were Multitudes of Lovers saddled with very whimsical Burthens composed of Darts and Flames; but, what was very odd, tho' they sighed as if their Hearts would break under these Bundles of Calamities, they could not perswade themselves to cast them into the Heap when they came up to it; but after a few faint efforts, shook their Heads and marched away as heavy loaden as they came. I saw Multitudes of old Women throw down their Wrinkles, and several young ones who stripped themselves of a tawny Skin. There were very great Heaps of red Noses, large Lips, and rusty Teeth. The Truth of it is, I was surpriz'd to see the greatest Part of the Mountain made up of bodily Deformities. Observing one advancing towards the Heap with a larger Cargo than ordinary upon his Back, I found upon his near Approach, that it was only a natural Hump, which he disposed of with great Joy of Heart among this Collection of humane Miseries. There were likewise Distempers of all Sorts, tho' I could not but observe, that there were many more Imaginary than real. One little Packet I could not but take Notice of, which was a Complication of all the Diseases incident to humane Nature, and was in the Hand of a great many fine People: This was called the Spleen. But what most of all surprized me, was a Remark I made, that there was not a single [illegible] Folly thrown into the whole Heap: At which I was very much astonished, having concluded within my self, that every one would take this Opportunity of getting rid of his Passions, Prejudices, and Frailties.

I took Notice in particular of a very profligate Fellow, who I did not Question came loaden with his Crimes, but upon searching into his Bundle, I found that instead of throwing his Guilt from him, he had only laid down his Memory. He was followed by another worthless Rogue who flung away his Modesty instead of his Ignorance.

When the whole Race of Mankind had thus cast their Burthens, the Phantome which had been so busie on this Occasion, seeing me an idle Spectator of what passed, approached towards me. I grew uneasy at her Presence, when of a sudden she held her magnifying Glass full before my Eyes. I no sooner saw my Face in it, but was startled at the Shortness of it, which now appeared to me in its utmost Aggravation. The immoderate Breadth of the Features made me very much out of Humour with my own Countenance, upon which I threw it from me like a Mask. It happened very luckily, that one who stood by me had just before thrown down his Visage, which, it seems, was too long for him. It was indeed extended to a most shameful length; I believe the very Chin was, modestly speaking, as long as my whole Face. We had both of us an Opportunity of mending our selves, and all the Contributions being now brought in, every Man was at Liberty to exchange his Misfortune for those of another Person. But as there arose many new Incidents in the Sequel of my Vision, I shall reserve them for the Subject of my next Paper.



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No. 559. Friday, June 25, 1714. Addison.



'Quid causae est, merito quin illis Jupiter ambas Iratus buccas inflet: neque se fore posthac Tam facilem dicat, votis ut praebeat aurem?'

Hor.



In my last Paper, I gave my Reader a Sight of that Mountain of Miseries, which was made up of those several Calamities that afflict the Minds of Men. I saw, with unspeakable Pleasure, the whole Species thus delivered from its Sorrows: though at the same time, as we stood round the Heap, and surveyed the several Materials of which it was composed, there was scarce a Mortal in this vast Multitude who did not discover what he thought Pleasures and Blessings of Life; and wondered how the Owners of them ever came to look upon them as Burthens and Grievances.

As we were regarding very attentively this Confusion of Miseries, this Chaos of Calamity, Jupiter issued out a second Proclamation, that every one was now at Liberty to exchange his Affliction, and to return to his Habitation with any such other Bundle as should be delivered to him.

Upon this, FANCY began again to bestir her self, and parcelling out the whole Heap with incredible Activity, recommended to every one his particular Packet. The Hurry and Confusion at this time was not to be expressed. Some Observations, which I made upon the Occasion, I shall communicate to the Publick. A venerable grey-headed Man, who had laid down the Cholick, and who I found wanted an Heir to his Estate, snatched up an undutiful Son that had been thrown into the Heap by his angry Father. The graceless Youth, in less than a quarter of an Hour, pulled the old Gentleman by the Beard, and had like to have knocked his Brains out; so that meeting the true Father, who came towards him in a Fit of the Gripes, he begg'd him to take his Son again, and give him back his Cholick; but they were incapable either of them to recede from the Choice they had made. A poor Gally-Slave, who had thrown down his Chains, took up the Gout in their stead, but made such wry Faces, that one might easily perceive he was no great Gainer by the Bargain. It was pleasant enough to see the several Exchanges that were made, for Sickness against Poverty, Hunger against want of Appetite, and Care against Pain.

The Female World were very busie among themselves in bartering for Features; one was trucking a Lock of grey Hairs for a Carbuncle, another was making over a short Waste for a Pair of round Shoulders, and a third cheapning a bad Face for a lost Reputation: But on all these Occasions, there was not one of them who did not think the new Blemish, as soon as she had got it into her Possession, much more disagreeable than the old one. I made the same Observation on every other Misfortune or Calamity, which every one in the Assembly brought upon himself, in lieu of what he had parted with; whether it be that all the Evils which befall us are in some Measure suited and proportioned to our Strength, or that every Evil becomes more supportable by our being accustomed to it, I shall not determine.

I could not for my Heart forbear pitying the poor hump-back'd Gentleman mentioned in the former Paper, who went off a very well-shaped Person with a Stone in his Bladder; nor the fine Gentleman who had struck up this Bargain with him, that limped thro' a whole Assembly of Ladies, who used to admire him, with a Pair of Shoulders peeping over his Head.

I must not omit my own particular Adventure. My Friend with the long Visage had no sooner taken upon him my short Face, but he made such a grotesque Figure in it, that as I looked upon him I could not forbear laughing at my self, insomuch that I put my own Face out of Countenance. The poor Gentleman was so sensible of the Ridicule, that I found he was ashamed of what he had done: On the other Side I found that I my self had no great Reason to triumph, for as I went to touch my Forehead I missed the Place, and clapped my Finger upon my upper Lip. Besides, as my Nose was exceeding Prominent, I gave it two or three unlucky Knocks as I was playing my Hand about my Face, and aiming at some other Part of it. I saw two other Gentlemen by me, who were in the same ridiculous Circumstances. These had made a foolish Swop between a Couple of thick bandy Legs, and two long Trapsticks that had no Calfs to them. One of these looked like a Man walking upon Stilts, and was so lifted up into the Air above his ordinary Height, that his Head turned round with it, while the other made such awkward Circles, as he attempted to walk, that he scarce knew how to move forward upon his new Supporters: Observing him to be a pleasant Kind of Fellow, I stuck my Cane in the Ground, and told him I would lay him a Bottle of Wine, that he did not march up to it on a Line, that I drew for him, in a Quarter of an Hour.

The Heap was at last distributed among the two Sexes, who made a most piteous Sight, as they wandered up and down under the Pressure of their several Burthens. The whole Plain was filled with Murmurs and Complaints, Groans and Lamentations. Jupiter at length, taking Compassion on the poor Mortals, ordered them a second time to lay down their Loads, with a Design to give every one his own again. They discharged themselves with a great deal of Pleasure, after which, the Phantome, who had led them into such gross Delusions, was commanded to disappear. There was sent in her stead a Goddess of a quite different Figure: Her Motions were steady and composed, and her Aspect serious but cheerful. She every now and then cast her Eyes towards Heaven, and fixed them upon Jupiter: Her name was PATIENCE. She had no sooner placed her self by the Mount of Sorrows, but, what I thought very remarkable, the whole Heap sunk to such a Degree, that it did not appear a third part so big as it was before. She afterwards returned every Man his own proper Calamity, and teaching him how to bear it in the most commodious Manner, he marched off with it contentedly, being very well pleased that he had not been left to his own Choice, as to the kind of Evils which fell to his Lot.

Besides the several Pieces of Morality to be drawn out of this Vision, I learnt from it, never to repine at my own Misfortunes, or to envy the Happiness of another, since it is impossible for any Man to form a right Judgment of his Neighbour's Sufferings; for which Reason also I have determined never to think too lightly of another's Complaints, but to regard the Sorrows of my Fellow Creatures with Sentiments of Humanity and Compassion.



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No. 560. Monday, June 28, 1714. Addison.



'—Verba intermissa retentat.'