The Spectator, Volumes 1, 2 and 3 / With Translations and Index for the Series

Contents
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Murranum hic atavos et avorum antiqua sonantem
Nomina per regesque actum genus omne Latinos,
Præcipitem scopulo, atque ingentis turbine saxi
Excutit, effunditque solo.

Virg.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'Were the Genealogy of every Family preserved, there would probably be no Man valued or despis'd on Account of his Birth. There is scarce a Beggar in the Streets, who would not find himself lineally descended from some great Man; nor any one of the highest Title, who would not discover several base and indigent Persons among his Ancestors. It would be a pleasant Entertainment to see one Pedigree of Men appear together, under the same Characters they bore when they acted their respective Parts among the Living. Suppose therefore a Gentleman, full of his illustrious Family, should, in the same manner as Virgil makes Æneas look over his Descendants, see the whole Line of his Progenitors pass in a Review before his Eyes, and with how many varying Passions would he behold Shepherds and Soldiers, Statesmen and Artificers, Princes and Beggars, walk in the Procession of five thousand Years! How would his Heart sink or flutter at the several Sports of Fortune in a Scene so diversified with Rags and Purple, Handicraft Tools and Scepters, Ensigns of Dignity and Emblems of Disgrace; and how would his Fears and Apprehensions, his Transports and Mortifications, succeed one another, as the Line of his Genealogy appear'd bright or obscure?

'In most of the Pedigrees hung up in old Mansion Houses, you are sure to find the first in the Catalogue a great Statesman, or a Soldier with an honourable Commission. The Honest Artificer that begot him, and all his frugal Ancestors before him, are torn off from the Top of the Register; and you are not left to imagine, that the noble Founder of the Family ever had a Father. Were we to trace many boasted Lines farther backwards, we should lose them in a Mob of Tradesmen, or a Crowd of Rusticks, without hope of seeing them emerge again: Not unlike the old Appian Way, which after having run many Miles in Length, loses it self in a Bog.

'I lately made a Visit to an old Country Gentleman, who is very far gone in this sort of Family Madness. I found him in his Study perusing an old Register of his Family, which he had just then discover'd, as it was branched out in the Form of a Tree, upon a Skin of Parchment. Having the Honour to have some of his Blood in my Veins, he permitted me to cast my Eye over the Boughs of this venerable Plant; and asked my Advice in the Reforming of some of the superfluous Branches.

'We passed slightly over three or four of our immediate Fore-fathers, whom we knew by Tradition, but were soon stopped by an Alderman of London, who, I perceived, made my Kinsman's Heart go pit-a-pat. His Confusion increased when he found the Alderman's Father to be a Grasier; but he recovered his Fright upon seeing Justice of the Quorum at the end of his Titles. Things went on pretty well, as we threw our Eyes occasionally over the Tree, when unfortunately he perceived a Merchant-Tailor perched on a Bough, who was said greatly to have encreased the Estate; he was just a going to cut him off, if he had not seen Gent. after the Name of his Son; who was recorded to have mortgaged one of the Manors his honest Father had purchased. A Weaver, who was burnt for his Religion in the Reign of Queen Mary, was pruned away without Mercy; as was likewise a Yeoman, who died of a Fall from his own Cart. But great was our Triumph in one of the Blood who was beheaded for High-Treason; which nevertheless was not a little allayed by another of our Ancestors, who was hanged for stealing Sheep. The Expectations of my good Cousin were wonderfully raised by a Match into the Family of a Knight, but unfortunately for us this Branch proved Barren: On the other hand Margery the Milk-maid being twined round a Bough, it flourished out into so many Shoots, and bent with so much Fruit, that the old Gentleman was quite out of Countenance. To comfort me, under this Disgrace, he singled out a Branch ten times more fruitful than the other, which, he told me, he valued more than any in the Tree, and bad me be of good Comfort. This enormous Bough was a Graft out of a Welsh Heiress, with so many Ap's upon it that it might have made a little Grove by it self. From the Trunk of the Pedigree, which was chiefly composed of Labourers and Shepherds, arose a huge Sprout of Farmers; this was branched out into Yeomen; and ended in a Sheriff of the County, who was Knighted for his good Service to the Crown, in bringing up an Address. Several of the Names that seemed to disparage the Family, being looked upon as Mistakes, were lopped off as rotten or withered; as, on the contrary, no small Number appearing without any Titles, my Cousin, to supply the Defects of the Manuscript, added Esq; at the End of each of them.

'This Tree so pruned, dressed, and cultivated, was, within few Days, transplanted into a large Sheet of Vellum and placed in the great Hall, where it attracts the Veneration of his Tenants every Sunday Morning, while they wait till his Worship is ready to go to Church; wondering that a Man who had so many Fathers before him, should not be made a Knight¹, or at least a Justice of the Peace.'

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—Studiis florentem ignobilis oti—

Virg.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'I was mightily pleased with your Speculation of Friday. Your Sentiments are Noble, and the whole worked up in such a manner, as cannot but strike upon every Reader. But give me leave to make this Remark: That while you write so Pathetically on Contentment, and a retired Life, you sooth the Passion of Melancholy, and depress the Mind from Actions truly Glorious. Titles and Honours are the Reward of Virtue: We therefore ought to be affected with them: And tho' light Minds are too much puffed up with exterior Pomp, yet I cannot see why it is not as truly Philosophical, to admire the glowing Ruby, or the sparkling Green of an Emerald, as the fainter and less permanent Beauties of a Rose or a Myrtle. If there are Men of extraordinary Capacities who lye concealed from the World, I should impute it to them as a Blot in their Character, did not I believe it owing to the Meanness of their Fortune rather than of their Spirit. Cowley, who tells the Story of Aglaüs with so much Pleasure, was no Stranger to Courts, nor insensible of Praise.

What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the Age to come my own?

was the Result of a laudable Ambition. It was not till after frequent Disappointments, that he termed himself the Melancholy Cowley; and he praised Solitude, when he despair'd of shining in a Court. The Soul of Man is an active Principle. He therefore, who withdraws himself from the Scene before he has play'd his Part, ought to be hissed off the Stage, and cannot be deemed Virtuous, because he refuses to answer his End. I must own I am fired with an honest Ambition to imitate every illustrious Example. The Battles of Blenheim and Ramillies have more than once made me wish my self a Soldier. And when I have seen those Actions so nobly celebrated by our Poets, I have secretly aspir'd to be one of that distinguished Class. But in vain I wish, in vain I pant with the DeSir e of Action. I am chained down in Obscurity, and the only Pleasure I can take is in seeing so many brighter Genius's join their friendly Lights, to add to the Splendor of the Throne. Farewel then dear Spec, and believe me to be with great Emulation, and no Envy,'

Your profess'd Admirer,

Will. Hopeless.

---

Middle-Temple, October 26, 1714.

Sir ,

'Tho' you have formerly made Eloquence the Subject of one or more of your Papers, I do not remember that you ever consider'd it as possessed by a Set of People, who are so far from making Quintilian's Rules their Practice, that, I dare say for them, they never heard of such an Author, and yet are no less Masters of it than Tully or Demosthenes among the Ancients, or whom you please amongst the Moderns. The Persons I am speaking of are our common Beggars about this Town; and that what I say is true, I appeal to any Man who has a Heart one Degree softer than a Stone. As for my part, who don't pretend to more Humanity than my Neighbours, I have oftentimes gone from my Chambers with Money in my Pocket, and returned to them not only Pennyless, but destitute of a Farthing, without bestowing of it any other way than on these seeming Objects of Pity. In short, I have seen more Eloquence in a Look from one of these despicable Creatures, than in the Eye of the fairest She I ever saw, yet no one is a greater Admirer of that Sex than my self. What I have to deSir e of you is, to lay down some Directions in order to guard against these powerful Orators, or else I know nothing to the contrary but I must my self be forced to leave the Profession of the Law, and endeavour to get the Qualifications necessary to that more profitable one of Begging. But in which soever of these two Capacities I shine, I shall always deSir e to be your constant Reader, and ever will be'

Your most humble Servant,

J. B.

---

Sir ,

'Upon Reading a Spectator last Week, where Mrs. Fanny Fickle submitted the Choice of a Lover for Life to your decisive Determination, and imagining I might claim the Favour of your Advice in an Affair of the like, but much more difficult Nature, I called for Pen and Ink, in order to draw the Characters of Seven Humble Servants, whom I have equally encouraged for some time. But alas! while I was reflecting on the agreeable Subject, and contriving an advantageous Description of the dear Person I was most inclined to favour, I happened to look into my Glass. The sight of the Small-Pox, out of which I am just recovered, tormented me at once with the loss of my captivating Arts and my Captives. The Confusion I was in, on this unhappy, unseasonable Discovery, is inexpressible. Believe me, Sir , I was so taken up with the Thoughts of your fair Correspondent's Case, and so intent on my own Design, that I fancied myself as Triumphant in my Conquests as ever.

'Now, Sir , finding I was incapacitated to Amuse my self on that pleasing Subject, I resolved to apply my self to you, or your Casuistical Agent, for Advice in my present Circumstances. I am sensible the Tincture of my Skin, and the Regularity of my Features, which the Malice of my late Illness has altered, are irrecoverable; yet don't despair, but that Loss, by your Assistance, may in some measure be reparable, if you'll please to propose a way for the Recovery of one only of my Fugitives.

'One of them is in a more particular Manner beholden to me than the rest; he for some private Reasons being deSir ous to be a Lover incognito, always addressed me with Billet-Doux, which I was so careful of in my Sickness, that I secured the Key of my Love-Magazine under my Head, and hearing a noise of opening a Lock in my Chamber, indangered my Life by getting out of Bed, to prevent, if it had been attempted, the Discovery of that Amour.

'I have formerly made use of all those Artifices, which our Sex daily practises over yours, to draw, as it were undesignedly, the eyes of a whole Congregation to my Pew; I have taken a Pride in the number of Admirers at my Afternoon Levée; but am now quite another Creature. I think, could I regain the attractive Influence I once had, if I had a Legion of Suitors, I should never be ambitious of Entertaining more than one. I have almost contracted an Antipathy to the trifling Discourses of Impertinent Lovers, though I must needs own, I have thought it very odd of late, to hear Gentlemen, instead of their usual Complacencies, fall into Disputes before me of Politicks, or else weary me with the tedious Repetition of how thankful I ought to be, and satisfied with my Recovery out of so dangerous a Distemper: This, though I am very sensible of the Blessing, yet I cannot but dislike, because such Advice from them rather seems to Insult than Comfort me, and reminds me too much of what I was; which melancholy Consideration I cannot yet perfectly surmount, but hope your Sentiments on this Head will make it supportable.

'To shew you what a Value I have for your Dictates, these are to certify the Persons concern'd, that unless one of them returns to his Colours, (if I may so call them now) before the Winter is over, I'll voluntarily confine my self to a Retirement, where I'll punish them all with my Needle. I'll be reveng'd on them by deciphering them on a Carpet, humbly begging Admittance, my self scornfully refusing it: If you disapprove of this, as favouring too much of Malice, be pleased to acquaint me with a Draught you like better, and it shall be faithfully performed'

By the Unfortunate

Monimia.

Contents
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Si mihi non animo fixum, immotumque sederet,
Ne cui me vinclo vellem sociare jugali,
Postquam primus amor deceptam morte fefellit;
Si non pertæsum thalami, tedæque fuisset:
Huic uni forsan potui succumbere culpæ.

Virg.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'Having, in some former Papers, taken Care of the two States of Virginity and Marriage, and being willing that all People should be served in their Turn; I this Day drew out my Drawer of Widows, where I met with several Cases, to each whereof I have returned satisfactory Answers by the Post. The Cases are as follow:

'Q. Whether Amoret be bound by a Promise of Marriage to Philander, made during her Husband's Life?

'Q. Whether Sempronia, having faithfully given a Promise to two several Persons during the last Sickness of her Husband, is not thereby left at Liberty to chase which of them she pleases, or to reject them both for the sake of a new Lover?

'Cleora asks me, Whether she be obliged to continue single, according to a Vow made to her Husband at the time of his presenting her with a Diamond Necklace; she being informed by a very pretty young Fellow of a good Conscience, that such Vows are in their Nature sinful?

'Another enquires, Whether she hath not the Right of Widowhood, to dispose of her self to a Gentleman of great Merit, who presses very hard; her Husband being irrecoverably gone in a Consumption?

'An unreasonable Creature hath the Confidence to ask, Whether it be proper for her to marry a Man who is younger than her eldest Son?

'A scrupulous well-spoken Matron, who gives me a great many good Words, only doubts, Whether she is not obliged in Conscience to shut up her two marriageable Daughters, till such time as she hath comfortably disposed of her self?

'Sophronia, who seems by her Phrase and Spelling to be a Person of Condition, sets forth, That whereas she hath a great Estate, and is but a Woman, she deSir es to be informed, whether she would not do prudently to marry Camillus, a very idle tall young Fellow, who hath no Fortune of his own, and consequently hath nothing else to do but to manage hers.'

Here I am,
Riding upon a Black Ram,
Like a Whore as I am;
And, for my Crincum Crancum,
Have lost my Bincum Bancum;
And, for my Tail's Game,
Have done this worldly Shame;
Therefore, I pray you Mr. Steward, let me have my Land again.

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—Qui Deorum
Muneribus sapienter uti,
Duramque callet pauperiem pati,
Pejusque letho flagitium timet:
Non ille pro caris amicis
Aut patriâ timidus perire.

Hor.

O! Nox, quam longa es, quæ facis una Senem.

'For when unrighteous Men thought to oppress the holy Nation; they being shut up in their Houses, the Prisoners of Darkness, and fetter'd with the Bonds of a long Night, lay here exiled from the eternal Providence. For while they supposed to lye hid in their secret Sins, they were scattered under a dark Veil of Forgetfulness, being horribly astonished and troubled with strange Apparitions—For Wickedness, condemned by her own Witness, is very timorous, and being oppressed with Conscience, always forecasteth grievous things. For Fear is nothing else but a betraying of the Succours which Reason offereth—For the whole World shined with clear Light, and none were hindered in their Labour. Over them only was spread a heavy Night, an Image of that Darkness which should afterwards receive them; but yet were they unto themselves more grievous than the Darkness.'¹

The Man resolved and steady to his Trust,
Inflexible to Ill, and obstinately just,
May the rude Rabble's Insolence despise,
Their senseless Clamours and tumultuous Cries;
The Tyrant's Fierceness he beguiles,
And the stern Brow, and the harsh Voice defies,
And with superior Greatness smiles.

Not the rough Whirlwind, that deforms
Adria's black Gulf, and vexes it with Storms,
The stubborn Virtue of his Soul can move;
Not the Red Arm of angry Jove,
That flings the Thunder from the Sky,
And gives it Rage to roar, and Strength to fly.

Should the whole Frame of Nature round him break,
In Ruin and Confusion hurl'd,
He, unconcerned, would hear the mighty Crack,
And Stand secure amidst a falling World.²

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Qui bellus homo est, Cotta, pusillus homo est.

Martial.