Nor is the Invention of these Men less to be admired than their Industry
or Vigilance. There is a Fragment of
Apollodorus
the Comick Poet
(who was Contemporary with
Menander
) which is full of Humour as
follows:
Thou mayest shut up thy Doors, says he, with Bars and Bolts:
It will be impossible for the Blacksmith to make them so fast, but a Cat
and a Whoremaster will find a Way through them
. In a word, there is
no Head so full of Stratagems as that of a Libidinous Man.
Were I to propose a Punishment for this infamous Race of Propagators, it
should be to send them, after the second or third Offence, into our
American
Colonies, in order to people those Parts of her
Majesty's Dominions where there is a want of Inhabitants, and in the
Phrase of
Diogenes
, to
Plant Men
. Some Countries punish
this Crime with Death; but I think such a Banishment would be
sufficient, and might turn this generative Faculty to the Advantage of
the Publick.
In the mean time, till these Gentlemen may be thus disposed of, I would
earnestly exhort them to take Care of those unfortunate Creatures whom
they have brought into the World by these indirect Methods, and to give
their spurious Children such an Education as may render them more
virtuous than their Parents. This is the best Atonement they can make
for their own Crimes, and indeed the only Method that is left them to
repair their past Mis-carriages.
I
likewise desire them to consider, whether they are not bound in
common Humanity, as well as by all the Obligations of Religion and
Nature, to make some Provision for those whom they have not only given
Life to, but entail'd upon them,
tho' very unreasonably, a Degree of
Shame and
Disgrace
.
here I cannot but take notice of those
depraved Notions which prevail among us, and which must have taken rise
from our natural Inclination to favour a Vice to which we are so very
prone, namely, that
Bastardy
and
Cuckoldom
should be
look'd upon as Reproaches, and that the
Ignominy
which
only due
to Lewdness and Falsehood, should fall in so unreasonable a manner upon
the Persons who
are
innocent.
I have been insensibly drawn into this Discourse by the following
Letter, which is drawn up with such a Spirit of Sincerity, that I
question not but the Writer of it has represented his Case in a true and
genuine Light.
Sir,
'I am one of those People who by the general Opinion of the World are
counted both Infamous and Unhappy.
'My Father is a very eminent Man in this Kingdom, and one who bears
considerable Offices in it. I am his Son, but my Misfortune is, That I
dare not call him Father, nor he without Shame own me as his Issue, I
being illegitimate, and therefore deprived of that endearing
Tenderness and unparallel'd Satisfaction which a good Man finds in the
Love and Conversation of a Parent: Neither have I the Opportunities to
render him the Duties of a Son, he having always carried himself at so
vast a Distance, and with such Superiority towards me, that by long
Use I have contracted a Timorousness when before him, which hinders me
from declaring my own Necessities, and giving him to understand the
Inconveniencies I undergo.
'It is my Misfortune to have been neither bred a Scholar, a Soldier,
nor to any kind of Business, which renders me Entirely uncapable of
making Provision for my self without his Assistance; and this creates
a continual Uneasiness in my Mind, fearing I shall in Time want Bread;
my Father, if I may so call him, giving me but very faint Assurances
of doing any thing for me.
'I have hitherto lived somewhat like a Gentleman, and it would be very
hard for me to labour for my Living. I am in continual Anxiety for my
future Fortune, and under a great Unhappiness in losing the sweet
Conversation and friendly Advice of my Parents; so that I cannot look
upon my self otherwise than as a Monster, strangely sprung up in
Nature, which every one is ashamed to own.
'I am thought to be a Man of some natural Parts, and by the continual
Reading what you have offered the World, become an Admirer thereof,
which has drawn me to make this Confession; at the same time hoping,
if any thing herein shall touch you with a Sense of Pity, you would
then allow me the Favour of your Opinion thereupon; as also what Part
I, being unlawfully born, may claim of the Man's Affection who begot
me, and how far in your Opinion I am to be thought his Son, or he
acknowledged as my Father. Your Sentiments and Advice herein will be a
great Consolation and Satisfaction to,
Sir,
Your Admirer and Humble
Servant,
W. B.
C.
that
Georg. II. v. 89.
Infamy.
Shame
suffer and are
Contents
|
Wednesday, October 24, 1711 |
Steele |
Urit grata protervitas,
Et vultus nimium lubricùs aspici.
Hor.
I am not at all displeased that I am become the Courier of Love, and
that the Distressed in that Passion convey their Complaints to each
other by my Means. The following Letters have lately come to my hands,
and shall have their Place with great Willingness. As to the Reader's
Entertainment, he will, I hope, forgive the inserting such Particulars
as to him may perhaps seem frivolous, but are to the Persons who wrote
them of the highest Consequence. I shall not trouble you with the
Prefaces, Compliments, and Apologies made to me before each Epistle when
it was desired to be inserted; but in general they tell me, that the
Persons to whom they are addressed have Intimations, by Phrases and
Allusions in them, from whence they came.
To the Sothades
1.
"The Word, by which I address you, gives you, who understand
Portuguese, a lively Image of the tender Regard I have for you. The
Spectator'S late Letter from
Statira gave me the Hint to use the
same Method of explaining my self to you. I am not affronted at the
Design your late Behaviour discovered you had in your Addresses to me;
but I impute it to the Degeneracy of the Age, rather than your
particular Fault. As I aim at nothing more than being yours, I am
willing to be a Stranger to your Name, your Fortune, or any Figure
which your Wife might expect to make in the World, provided my
Commerce with you is not to be a guilty one. I resign gay Dress, the
Pleasure of Visits, Equipage, Plays, Balls, and Operas, for that one
Satisfaction of having you for ever mine. I am willing you shall
industriously conceal the only Cause of Triumph which I can know in
this Life. I wish only to have it my Duty, as well as my Inclination,
to study your Happiness. If this has not the Effect this Letter seems
to aim at, you are to understand that I had a mind to be rid of you,
and took the readiest Way to pall you with an Offer of what you would
never desist pursuing while you received ill Usage. Be a true Man; be
my Slave while you doubt me, and neglect me when you think I love you.
I defy you to find out what is your present Circumstance with me; but
I know while I can keep this Suspence.
I am your admired
Belinda.
Madam,
"It is a strange State of Mind a Man is in, when the very
Imperfections of a Woman he loves turn into Excellencies and
Advantages. I do assure you, I am very much afraid of venturing upon
you. I now like you in spite of my Reason, and think it an ill
Circumstance to owe one's Happiness to nothing but Infatuation. I can
see you ogle all the young Fellows who look at you, and observe your
Eye wander after new Conquests every Moment you are in a publick
Place; and yet there is such a Beauty in all your Looks and Gestures,
that I cannot but admire you in the very Act of endeavouring to gain
the Hearts of others.
My Condition is the same with that of the Lover
in the
Way of the World2, I have studied your Faults so long,
that they are become as familiar to me, and I like them as well as I
do my own. Look to it, Madam, and consider whether you think this gay
Behaviour will appear to me as amiable when an Husband, as it does now
to me a Lover. Things are so far advanced, that we must proceed; and I
hope you will lay it to Heart, that it will be becoming in me to
appear still your Lover, but not in you to be still my Mistress.
Gaiety in the Matrimonial Life is graceful in one Sex, but
exceptionable in the other. As you improve these little Hints, you
will ascertain the Happiness or Uneasiness of,
Madam, Your most
obedient,
Most humble Servant,
T.D.
Sir,
'When I sat at the Window, and you at the other End of the Room
by my Cousin, I saw you catch me looking at you. Since you have the
Secret at last, which I am sure you should never have known but by
Inadvertency, what my Eyes said was true. But it is too soon to
confirm it with my Hand, therefore shall not subscribe my Name.
Sir,
'There were other Gentlemen nearer, and I know no Necessity you
were under to take up that flippant Creature's Fan last Night; but you
shall never touch a Stick of mine more, that's pos.
Phillis.
To Colonel R——s
3 in Spain.
'Before this can reach the best of Husbands and the fondest Lover,
those tender Names will be no more of Concern to me. The Indisposition
in which you, to obey the Dictates of your Honour and Duty, left me,
has increased upon me; and I am acquainted by my Physicians I cannot
live a Week longer. At this time my Spirits fail me; and it is the
ardent Love I have for you that carries me beyond my Strength, and
enables me to tell you, the most painful Thing in the Prospect of
Death, is, that I must part with you. But let it be a Comfort to you,
that I have no Guilt hangs upon me, no unrepented Folly that retards
me; but I pass away my last Hours in Reflection upon the Happiness we
have lived in together, and in Sorrow that it is so soon to have an
End. This is a Frailty which I hope is so far from criminal, that
methinks there is a kind of Piety in being so unwilling to be
separated from a State which is the Institution of Heaven, and in
which we have lived according to its Laws. As we know no more of the
next Life, but that it will be an happy one to the Good, and miserable
to the Wicked, why may we not please ourselves at least, to alleviate
the Difficulty of resigning this Being, in imagining that we shall
have a Sense of what passes below, and may possibly be employed in
guiding the Steps of those with whom we walked with Innocence when
mortal? Why may not I hope to go on in my usual Work, and, tho'
unknown to you, be assistant in all the Conflicts of your Mind? Give
me leave to say to you, O best of Men, that I cannot figure to myself
a greater Happiness than in such an Employment: To be present at all
the Adventures to which human Life is exposed, to administer Slumber
to thy Eyelids in the Agonies of a Fever, to cover thy beloved Face in
the Day of Battle, to go with thee a Guardian Angel incapable of Wound
or Pain, where I have longed to attend thee when a weak, a fearful
Woman: These, my Dear, are the Thoughts with which I warm my poor
languid Heart; but indeed I am not capable under my present Weakness
of bearing the strong Agonies of Mind I fall into, when I form to
myself the Grief you will be in upon your first hearing of my
Departure. I will not dwell upon this, because your kind and generous
Heart will be but the more afflicted, the more the Person for whom you
lament offers you Consolation. My last Breath will, if I am my self,
expire in a Prayer for you. I shall never see thy Face again.
'Farewell for ever. T.
Saudades. To have
saudades
of anything is to yearn with
desire towards it.
Saudades da Patria
is home sickness. To say
Tenho
Saudades
without naming an object would be taken to mean I am all
yearning to call a certain gentleman or lady mine.
In Act I. sc. 3, of Congreve's
Way of the World
, Mirabell
says of Millamant,
'I like her with all her faults, nay, like her for her faults. Her
'follies are so natural, or so artful, that they become her; and those
affectations which in another woman would be odious, serve but to make
her more agreeable. I'll tell thee, Fainall, she once used me with
that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces, sifted her, and
separated her failings; I studied 'em and got 'em by rote. The
Catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes one day or other
to hate her heartily: to which end I so used myself to think of 'em,
that at length, contrary to my design and expectation, they gave me
every hour less and less disturbance; 'till in a few days it became
habitual to me to remember 'em without being displeased. They are now
grown as familiar to me as my own frailties; and, in all probability,
in a little time longer I shall like 'em as well.'
The name was commonly believed to be Rivers, when this
Paper was published.
Contents
|
Thursday, October 25, 1711 |
Addison |
Decipimur specie recti
Hor.
When I meet with any vicious Character that is not generally known, in
order to prevent its doing Mischief, I draw it at length, and set it up
as a Scarecrow; by which means I do not only make an Example of the
Person to whom it belongs, but give Warning to all Her Majesty's
Subjects, that they may not suffer by it.
, to change the
Allusion
, I have marked out several of the Shoals and Quicksands of
Life,
am continually employed in discovering those
which
are
still concealed, in order to keep the Ignorant and Unwary from running
upon them. It is with this Intention that I publish the following
Letter, which brings to light some Secrets of this Nature.
Mr.
Spectator,
'There are none of your Speculations which I read over with greater
Delight, than those which are designed for the Improvement of our Sex.
You have endeavoured to correct our unreasonable Fears and
Superstitions, in your Seventh and Twelfth Papers; our Fancy for
Equipage, in your Fifteenth; our Love of Puppet-Shows, in your
Thirty-First; our Notions of Beauty, in your Thirty-Third; our
Inclination for Romances, in your Thirty-Seventh; our Passion for
French Fopperies, in your Forty-Fifth; our Manhood and Party-zeal,
in your Fifty-Seventh; our Abuse of Dancing, in your Sixty-Sixth and
Sixty-Seventh; our Levity, in your Hundred and Twenty-Eighth; our Love
of Coxcombs, in your Hundred and Fifty-Fourth, and Hundred and
Fifty-Seventh; our Tyranny over the Henpeckt, in your Hundred and
Seventy-Sixth. You have described the
Pict in your Forty-first; the
Idol, in your Seventy-Third; the Demurrer, in your Eighty-Ninth; the
Salamander, in your Hundred and Ninety-Eighth. You have likewise taken
to pieces our Dress, and represented to us the Extravagancies we are
often guilty of in that Particular. You have fallen upon our Patches,
in your Fiftieth and Eighty-First; our Commodes, in your
Ninety-Eighth; our Fans in your Hundred and Second; our Riding Habits
in your Hundred and Fourth; our Hoop-petticoats, in your Hundred and
Twenty-Seventh; besides a great many little Blemishes which you have
touched upon in your several other Papers, and in those many Letters
that are scattered up and down your Works. At the same Time we must
own, that the Compliments you pay our Sex are innumerable, and that
those very Faults which you represent in us, are neither black in
themselves nor, as you own, universal among us. But, Sir, it is plain
that these your Discourses are calculated for none but the fashionable
Part of Womankind, and for the Use of those who are rather indiscreet
than vicious. But, Sir, there is a Sort of Prostitutes in the lower
Part of our Sex, who are a Scandal to us, and very well deserve to
fall under your Censure. I know it would debase your Paper too much to
enter into the Behaviour of these Female Libertines; but as your
Remarks on some Part of it would be a doing of Justice to several
Women of Virtue and Honour, whose Reputations suffer by it, I hope you
will not think it improper to give the Publick some Accounts of this
Nature. You must know, Sir, I am provoked to write you this Letter by
the Behaviour of an infamous Woman, who having passed her Youth in a
most shameless State of Prostitution, is now one of those who gain
their Livelihood by seducing others, that are younger than themselves,
and by establishing a criminal Commerce between the two Sexes. Among
several of her Artifices to get Money, she frequently perswades a vain
young Fellow, that such a Woman of Quality, or such a celebrated
Toast, entertains a secret Passion for him, and wants nothing but an
Opportunity of revealing it:
Nay, she has gone so far as to write
Letters in the Name of a Woman of Figure, to borrow Money of one of
these foolish
Roderigo's3, which she has afterwards appropriated
to her own Use. In the mean time, the Person who has lent the Money,
has thought a Lady under Obligations to him, who scarce knew his Name;
and wondered at her Ingratitude when he has been with her, that she
has not owned the Favour, though at the same time he was too much a
Man of Honour to put her in mind of it.
'When this abandoned Baggage meets with a Man who has Vanity enough to
give Credit to Relations of this nature, she turns him to very good
Account, by repeating Praises that were never uttered, and delivering
Messages that were never sent. As the House of this shameless Creature
is frequented by several Foreigners, I have heard of another Artifice,
out of which she often raises Money. The Foreigner sighs after some
British Beauty, whom he only knows by Fame: Upon which she promises,
if he can be secret, to procure him a Meeting. The Stranger, ravished
at his good Fortune, gives her a Present, and in a little time is
introduced to some imaginary Title; for you must know that this
cunning Purveyor has her Representatives upon this Occasion, of some
of the finest Ladies in the Kingdom. By this Means, as I am informed,
it is usual enough to meet with a German Count in foreign Countries,
that shall make his Boasts of Favours he has received from Women of
the highest Ranks, and the most unblemished Characters. Now, Sir, what
Safety is there for a Woman's Reputation, when a Lady may be thus
prostituted as it were by Proxy, and be reputed an unchaste Woman; as
the Hero in the ninth Book of
Dryden's Virgil is looked upon as a
Coward, because the Phantom which appeared in his Likeness ran away
from
Turnus? You may depend upon what I relate to you to be Matter
of Fact, and the Practice of more than one of these female Pandars. If
you print this Letter, I may give you some further Accounts of this
vicious Race of Women.
Your humble Servant,
Belvidera.
I shall add two other Letters on different Subjects to fill up my Paper.
Mr.
Spectator,
'I am a Country Clergyman, and hope you will lend me your Assistance
in ridiculing some little Indecencies which cannot so properly be
exposed from the Pulpit.
'A Widow Lady, who straggled this Summer from
London into my Parish
for the Benefit of the Air, as she says, appears every
Sunday at
Church with many fashionable Extravagancies, to the great Astonishment
of my Congregation.
'But what gives us the most Offence is her theatrical Manner of
Singing the Psalms.
She introduces above fifty
Italian Airs into the
hundredth Psalm, and whilst we begin
All People in the old solemn
Tune of our Forefathers, she in a quite different Key runs Divisions
on the Vowels, and adorns them with the Graces of
Nicolini; if she
meets with Eke or Aye, which are frequent in the Metre of
Hopkins
and
Sternhold4, we are certain to hear her quavering them half a
Minute after us to some sprightly Airs of the Opera.
'I am very far from being an Enemy to Church Musick; but fear this
Abuse of it may make my
Parish ridiculous, who already look on the
Singing Psalms as an Entertainment, and no Part of their Devotion:
Besides, I am apprehensive that the Infection may spread, for Squire
Squeekum, who by his Voice seems (if I may use the Expression) to be
cut out for an
Italian Singer, was last
Sunday practising the same
Airs.
'I know the Lady's Principles, and that she will plead the Toleration,
which (as she fancies) allows her Non-Conformity in this Particular;
but I beg you to acquaint her, That Singing the Psalms in a different
Tune from the rest of the Congregation, is a Sort of Schism not
tolerated by that Act.
I am, Sir,
Your very humble Servant,
R. S.
Mr. Spectator,
'In your Paper upon Temperance, you prescribe to us a Rule of
drinking, out of Sir
William Temple, in the following Words;
The
first Glass for myself, the second for my Friends, the third for
Good-humour, and the fourth for mine Enemies. Now, Sir, you must
know, that I have read this your
Spectator, in a Club whereof I am a
Member; when our President told us, there was certainly an Error in
the Print, and that the Word
Glass should be
Bottle; and therefore
has ordered me to inform you of this Mistake, and to desire you to
publish the following
Errata: In the Paper of
Saturday, Octob.
13, Col. 3. Line 11, for
Glass read
Bottle.
L.
Yours, Robin Good-fellow.
L.
Metaphor
that
As the Roderigo whose money Iago used.
Thomas Sternhold who joined Hopkins, Norton, and others in
translation of the Psalms, was groom of the robes to Henry VIII. and
Edward VI.
Contents
|
Friday, October 26, 1711 |
Steele |
Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit,
A Diis plura feret—
Hor.
There is a Call upon Mankind to value and esteem those who set a
moderate Price upon their own Merit; and Self-denial is frequently
attended with unexpected Blessings, which in the End abundantly
recompense such Losses as the Modest seem to suffer in the ordinary
Occurrences of Life. The Curious tell us, a Determination in our Favour
or to our Disadvantage is made upon our first Appearance, even before
they know any thing of our Characters, but from the Intimations Men
gather from our Aspect. A Man, they say, wears the Picture of his Mind
in his Countenance; and one Man's Eyes are Spectacles to his who looks
at him to read his Heart. But tho' that Way of raising an Opinion of
those we behold in Publick is very fallacious, certain it is, that
those, who by their Words and Actions take as much upon themselves, as
they can but barely demand in the strict Scrutiny of their Deserts, will
find their Account lessen every Day. A modest Man preserves his
Character, as a frugal Man does his Fortune; if either of them live to
the Height of either, one will find Losses, the other Errors, which he
has not Stock by him to make up. It were therefore a just Rule, to keep
your Desires, your Words and Actions, within the Regard you observe your
Friends have for you; and never, if it were in a Man's Power, to take as
much as he possibly might either in Preferment or Reputation. My Walks
have lately been among the mercantile Part of the World; and one gets
Phrases naturally from those with whom one converses: I say then, he
that in his Air, his Treatment of others, or an habitual Arrogance to
himself, gives himself Credit for the least Article of more Wit, Wisdom,
Goodness, or Valour than he can possibly produce if he is called upon,
will find the World break in upon him, and consider him as one who has
cheated them of all the Esteem they had before allowed him. This brings
a Commission of Bankruptcy upon him; and he that might have gone on to
his Life's End in a prosperous Way, by aiming at more than he should, is
no longer Proprietor of what he really had before, but his Pretensions
fare as all Things do which are torn instead of being divided.
There is no one living would deny
Cinna
the Applause of an agreeable
and facetious Wit; or could possibly pretend that there is not something
inimitably unforced and diverting in his Manner of delivering all his
Sentiments in Conversation, if he were able to conceal the strong Desire
of Applause which he betrays in every Syllable he utters. But they who
converse with him, see that all the Civilities they could do to him, or
the kind Things they could say to him, would fall short of what he
expects; and therefore instead of shewing him the Esteem they have for
his Merit, their Reflections turn only upon that they observe he has of
it himself.
If you go among the Women, and behold
Gloriana
trip into a Room with
that theatrical Ostentation of her Charms,
Mirtilla
with that soft
Regularity in her Motion,
Chloe
with such an indifferent Familiarity,
Corinna
with such a fond Approach, and
Roxana
with such a Demand of
Respect in the great Gravity of her Entrance; you find all the Sex, who
understand themselves and act naturally, wait only for their Absence, to
tell you that all these Ladies would impose themselves upon you; and
each of them carry in their Behaviour a Consciousness of so much more
than they should pretend to, that they lose what would otherwise be
given them.
I remember the last time I saw
Macbeth
, I was wonderfully taken with
the Skill of the Poet, in making the Murderer form Fears to himself from
the Moderation of the Prince whose Life he was going to take away. He
says of the King,
He bore his Faculties so meekly
; and justly inferred
from thence, That all divine and human Power would join to avenge his
Death, who had made such an abstinent Use of Dominion. All that is in a
Man's Power to do to advance his own Pomp and Glory, and forbears, is so
much laid up against the Day of Distress; and Pity will always be his
Portion in Adversity, who acted with Gentleness in Prosperity.
The great Officer who foregoes the Advantages he might take to himself,
and renounces all prudential Regards to his own Person in Danger, has so
far the Merit of a Volunteer; and all his Honours and Glories are
unenvied, for sharing the common Fate with the same Frankness as they do
who have no such endearing Circumstances to part with. But if there were
no such Considerations as the good Effect which Self-denial has upon the
Sense of other Men towards us, it is of all Qualities the most desirable
for the agreeable Disposition in which it places our own Minds. I cannot
tell what better to say of it, than that it is the very Contrary of
Ambition; and that Modesty allays all those Passions and Inquietudes to
which that Vice exposes us. He that is moderate in his Wishes from
Reason and Choice, and not resigned from Sourness, Distaste, or
Disappointment, doubles all the Pleasures of his Life.