Blindman's-Buff
, and leading Men
into Love for they know not whom, who are fled they know
not where. This sort of Woman is usually a janty Slattern;
she hangs on her Cloaths, plays her Head, varies her Posture,
and changes Place incessantly, and all with an Appearance of
striving at the same time to hide her self, and yet give you to
understand she is in Humour to laugh at you. You must have
often seen the Coachmen make Signs with their Fingers as
they drive by each other, to intimate how much they have got
that Day. They can carry on that Language to give Intelligence
where they are driving. In an Instant my Coachman
took the Wink to pursue, and the Lady's Driver gave the Hint
that he was going through
Long-Acre
towards St.
James's
:
While he whipped up
James-Street
, we drove for
King-Street
,
to save the Pass at St.
Martin's-Lane
. The Coachmen took
care to meet, jostle, and threaten each other for Way, and be
entangled at the End of
Newport-Street
and
Long-Acre
. The
Fright, you must believe, brought down the Lady's Coach
Door, and obliged her, with her Mask off, to enquire into the
Bustle, when she sees the Man she would avoid. The Tackle
of the Coach-Window is so bad she cannot draw it up again,
and she drives on sometimes wholly discovered, and sometimes
half escaped, according to the Accident of Carriages in
her Way. One of these Ladies keeps her Seat in a Hackney-Coach,
as well as the best Rider does on a managed Horse.
The laced Shooe of her left Foot, with a careless Gesture, just
appearing on the opposite Cushion, held her both firm, and in
a proper Attitude to receive the next Jolt.
As she was an excellent Coach Woman, many were the Glances at each other
which we had for an Hour and an Half in all Parts of the Town by the
Skill of our Drivers; till at last my Lady was conveniently lost with
Notice from her Coachman to ours to make off, and he should hear where
she went. This Chase was now at an End, and the Fellow who drove her
came to us, and discovered that he was ordered to come again in an Hour,
for that she was a Silk-Worm. I was surprized with this Phrase, but
found it was a Cant among the Hackney Fraternity for their best
Customers, Women who ramble twice or thrice a Week from Shop to Shop, to
turn over all the Goods in Town without buying any thing. The Silk-worms
are, it seems, indulged by the Tradesmen; for tho' they never buy, they
are ever talking of new Silks, Laces and Ribbands, and serve the Owners
in getting them Customers as their common Dunners do in making them pay.
The Day of People of Fashion began now to Break, and Carts and Hacks
were mingled with Equipages of Show and Vanity; when I resolved to walk
it out of Cheapness; but my unhappy Curiosity is such, that I find it
always my Interest to take Coach, for some odd Adventure among Beggars,
Ballad-Singers, or the like, detains and throws me into Expence. It
happened so immediately; for at the Corner of
Warwick Street
, as I was
listening to a new Ballad, a ragged Rascal, a Beggar who knew me, came
up to me, and began to turn the Eyes of the good Company upon me, by
telling me he was extream Poor, and should die in the Street for want of
Drink, except I immediately would have the Charity to give him Six-pence
to go into the next Ale-house and save his Life. He urged, with a
melancholy Face, that all his Family had died of Thirst. All the Mob
have Humour, and two or three began to take the Jest; by which Mr.
Sturdy
carried his Point, and let me sneak off to a Coach. As I drove
along, it was a pleasing Reflection to see the World so prettily
chequered since I left
Richmond
, and the Scene still filling with
Children of a new Hour. This Satisfaction encreased as I moved towards
the City; and gay Signs, well disposed Streets, magnificent publick
Structures, and wealthy Shops, adorned with contented Faces, made the
Joy still rising till we came into the Centre of the City, and Centre of
the World of Trade, the
Exchange
of
London
. As other men in the
Crowds about me were pleased with their Hopes and Bargains, I found my
Account in observing them, in Attention to their several Interests. I,
indeed, looked upon my self as the richest Man that walked the
Exchange
that Day; for my Benevolence made me share the Gains of every
Bargain that was made. It was not the least of my Satisfactions in my
Survey, to go up Stairs, and pass the Shops of agreeable Females; to
observe so many pretty Hands busie in the Foldings of Ribbands, and the
utmost Eagerness of agreeable Faces in the sale of Patches, Pins, and
Wires, on each Side the Counters, was an Amusement, in which I should
longer have indulged my self, had not the dear Creatures called to me to
ask what I wanted, when I could not answer, only
To look at you
. I
went to one of the Windows which opened to the Area below, where all the
several Voices lost their Distinction, and rose up in a confused
Humming; which created in me a Reflection that could not come into the
Mind of any but of one a little too studious; for I said to my self,
with a kind of Pun in Thought,
What Nonsense is all the Hurry of this
World to those who are above it?
In these, or not much wiser Thoughts,
I had like to have lost my Place at the Chop-House, where every Man
according to the natural Bashfulness or Sullenness of our Nation, eats
in a publick Room a Mess of Broth, or Chop of Meat, in dumb Silence, as
if they had no pretence to speak to each other on the Foot of being Men,
except they were of each other's Acquaintance.
I went afterwards to
Robin's
, and saw People who had dined with me at
the Five-penny Ordinary just before, give Bills for the Value of large
Estates; and could not but behold with great Pleasure, Property lodged
in, and transferred in a Moment from such as would never be Masters of
half as much as is seemingly in them, and given from them every Day they
live. But before Five in the Afternoon I left the City, came to my
common Scene of
Covent-Garden
, and passed the Evening at
Will's
in
attending the Discourses of several Sets of People, who relieved each
other within my Hearing on the Subjects of Cards, Dice, Love, Learning,
and Politicks. The last Subject kept me till I heard the Streets in the
Possession of the Bellman, who had now the World to himself, and cry'd,
Past Two of Clock
. This rous'd me from my Seat, and I went to my
Lodging, led by a Light, whom I put into the Discourse of his private
œconomy, and made him give me an Account of the Charge, Hazard, Profit
and Loss of a Family that depended upon a Link, with a Design to end my
trivial Day with the Generosity of Six-pence, instead of a third Part of
that Sum. When I came to my Chambers I writ down these Minutes; but was
at a Loss what Instruction I should propose to my Reader from the
Enumeration of so many Insignificant Matters and Occurrences; and I
thought it of great Use, if they could learn with me to keep their Minds
open to Gratification, and ready to receive it from any thing it meets
with. This one Circumstance will make every Face you see give you the
Satisfaction you now take in beholding that of a Friend; will make every
Object a pleasing one; will make all the Good which arrives to any Man,
an Encrease of Happiness to your self.
T.
Contents
|
Tuesday, August 12, 1712 |
Steele |
—Ergo Apis Matinæ
More modoque
Grata Carpentis thyma per laborem
Plurimum—translation
The following Letters have in them Reflections which will seem of
Importance both to the Learned World and to Domestick Life. There is in
the first an Allegory so well carry'd on, that it cannot but be very
pleasing to those who have a Taste of good Writing; and the other
Billets may have their Use in common Life.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
As I walked t'other Day in a fine Garden, and observed the great
Variety of Improvements in Plants and Flowers beyond what they
otherwise would have been, I was naturally led into a Reflection upon
the Advantages of Education, or Moral Culture; how many good Qualities
in the Mind are lost, for want of the like due Care in nursing and
skilfully managing them, how many Virtues are choaked, by the
Multitude of Weeds which are suffered to grow among them; how
excellent Parts are often starved and useless, by being planted in a
wrong Soil; and how very seldom do these Moral Seeds produce the noble
Fruits which might be expected from them, by a Neglect of proper
Manuring, necessary Pruning, and an artful Management of our tender
Inclinations and first Spring of Life: These obvious Speculations made
me at length conclude, that there is a sort of vegetable Principle in
the Mind of every Man when he comes into the World. In Infants the
Seeds lie buried and undiscovered, till after a while they sprout
forth in a kind of rational Leaves, which are Words; and in due
Season the Flowers begin to appear in Variety of beautiful Colours,
and all the gay Pictures of youthful Fancy and Imagination; at last
the Fruit knits and is formed, which is green, perhaps, first, and
soure, unpleasant to the Taste, and not fit to be gathered; till
ripened by due Care and Application, it discovers itself in all the
noble Productions of Philosophy, Mathematicks, close Reasoning, and
handsome Argumentation: And these Fruits, when they arrive at a just
Maturity, and are of a good Kind, afford the most vigorous Nourishment
to the Minds of Men. I reflected further on the intellectual Leaves
beforementioned, and found almost as great a Variety among them as in
the vegetable World. I could easily observe the smooth shining
Italian Leaves; the nimble French Aspen always in Motion; the
Greek and Latin Evergreens, the Spanish Myrtle, the English
Oak, the Scotch Thistle, the Irish Shambrogue, the prickly
German and Dutch Holly, the Polish and Russian Nettle, besides
a vast Number of Exoticks imported from Asia, Africk, and
America. I saw several barren Plants, which bore only Leaves,
without any Hopes of Flower or Fruit: The Leaves of some were fragrant
and well-shaped, of others ill-scented and irregular. I wonder'd at a
Set of old whimsical Botanists, who spent their whole Lives in the
Contemplation of some withered Ægyptian, Coptick, Armenian, or
Chinese Leaves, while others made it their Business to collect in
voluminous Herbals all the several Leaves of some one Tree. The
Flowers afforded a most diverting Entertainment, in a wonderful
Variety of Figures, Colours and Scents; however, most of them withered
soon, or at best are but Annuals. Some professed Florists make them
their constant Study and Employment, and despise all Fruit; and now
and then a few fanciful People spend all their Time in the Cultivation
of a single Tulip, or a Carnation: But the most agreeable Amusement
seems to be the well chusing, mixing, and binding together these
Flowers, in pleasing Nosegays to present to Ladies. The Scent of
Italian Flowers is observed, like their other Perfume, to be too
strong, and to hurt the Brain; that of the French with glaring,
gaudy Colours, yet faint and languid; German and Northern Flowers
have little or no Smell, or sometimes an unpleasant one. The Antients
had a Secret to give a lasting Beauty, Colour, and Sweetness to some
of their choice Flowers, which flourish to this Day, and which few of
the Moderns can effect. These are becoming enough and agreeable in
their Season, and do often handsomely adorn an Entertainment, but an
Over-fondness of them seems to be a Disease. It rarely happens to find
a Plant vigorous enough, to have (like an Orange-Tree) at once
beautiful shining Leaves, fragrant Flowers, and delicious nourishing
Fruit.
Sir , Yours, &c.
August 6, 1712.
Dear SPEC,
You have given us in your Spectator of Saturday last, a very
excellent Discourse upon the Force of Custom, and its wonderful
Efficacy in making every thing pleasant to us. I cannot deny but that
I received above Two penny-worth of Instruction from your Paper, and
in the general was very well pleased with it; but I am, without a
Compliment, sincerely troubled that I cannot exactly be of your
Opinion, That it makes every thing pleasing to us. In short, I have
the Honour to be yoked to a young Lady, who is, in plain English, for
her Standing, a very eminent Scold. She began to break her Mind very
freely both to me and to her Servants about two Months after our
Nuptials; and tho' I have been accustomed to this Humour of hers this
three Years, yet, I do not know what's the Matter with me, but I am no
more delighted with it than I was at the very first. I have advised
with her Relations about her, and they all tell me that her Mother and
her Grandmother before her were both taken much after the same Manner;
so that since it runs in the Blood, I have but small Hopes of her
Recovery. I should be glad to have a little of your Advice in this
Matter: I would not willingly trouble you to contrive how it may be a
Pleasure to me; if you will but put me in a Way that I may bear it
with Indifference, I shall rest satisfied.
Dear SPEC,
Your very humble Servant.
P. S. I must do the poor Girl the Justice to let you know, that this
Match was none of her own chusing, (or indeed of mine either;) in
Consideration of which I avoid giving her the least Provocation; and
indeed we live better together than usually Folks do who hated one
another when they were first joined: To evade the Sin against Parents,
or at least to extenuate it, my Dear rails at my Father and Mother,
and I curse hers for making the Match.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I like the Theme you lately gave out extremely, and should be as glad
to handle it as any Man living: But I find myself no better qualified
to write about Money, than about my Wife; for, to tell you a Secret
which I deSir e may go no further, I am Master of neither of those
Subjects.
Yours,
Pill Garlick.
Aug. 8, 1712.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I deSir e you would print this in Italick, so as it may be generally
taken Notice of. It is designed only to admonish all Persons, who
speak either at the Bar, Pulpit, or any publick Assembly whatsoever,
how they discover their Ignorance in the Use of Similes. There are in
the Pulpit it self, as well as other Places, such gross Abuses in this
Kind, that I give this Warning to all I know, I shall bring them for
the Future before your Spectatorial Authority. On Sunday last, one,
who shall be nameless, reproving several of his Congregation for
standing at Prayers, was pleased to say, One would think, like the
Elephant, you had no Knees. Now I my self saw an Elephant in
Bartholomew-Fair kneel down to take on his Back the ingenious Mr.
William Penkethman.
Your most humble Servant.
T.
Contents
|
Wednesday, August 13, 1712 |
Steele |
De quo libelli in celeberrimis locis proponuntur
Huic ne perire quidem tacite conceditur.
Tull.
translation
Otway
, in his Tragedy of
Venice Preserv'd
, has described the Misery of
a Man, whose Effects are in the Hands of the Law, with great Spirit. The
Bitterness of being the Scorn and Laughter of base Minds, the Anguish of
being insulted by Men hardened beyond the Sense of Shame or Pity, and
the Injury of a Man's Fortune being wasted, under Pretence of Justice,
excellently aggravated in the following Speech of
Pierre
to
Faffeir
:
I pass'd this very Moment by thy Doors,
And found them guarded by a Troop of Villains:
The Sons of publick Rapine were destroying.
They told me, by the Sentence of the Law,
They had Commission to seize all thy Fortune:
Nay more, Priuli's cruel Hand had sign'd it.
Here stood a Ruffian with a horrid Face,
Lording it o'er a Pile of massy Plate,
Tumbled into a Heap for publick Sale.
There was another making villanous Jests
At thy Undoing: He had ta'en Possession
Of all thy ancient most domestick Ornaments:
Rich Hangings intermix'd and wrought with Gold;
The very Bed, which on thy Wedding Night
Received thee to the Arms of Belvedira,
The Scene of all thy Joys, was violated
By the coarse Hands of filthy Dungeon Villains,
And thrown amongst the common Lumber.
Nothing indeed can be more unhappy than the Condition of Bankrupcy. The
Calamity which happens to us by ill Fortune, or by the Injury of others,
has in it some Consolation; but what arises from our own Misbehaviour or
Error, is the State of the most exquisite Sorrow. When a Man considers
not only an ample Fortune, but even the very Necessaries of Life, his
Pretence to Food it self at the Mercy of his Creditors, he cannot but
look upon himself in the State of the Dead, with his Case thus much
worse, that the last Office is performed by his Adversaries, instead of
his Friends. From this Hour the cruel World does not only take
Possession of his whole Fortune, but even of every thing else, which had
no Relation to it. All his indifferent Actions have new Interpretations
put upon them; and those whom he has favoured in his former Life,
discharge themselves of their Obligations to him, by joining in the
Reproaches of his Enemies. It is almost incredible that it should be so;
but it is too often seen that there is a Pride mixed with the Impatience
of the Creditor, and there are who would rather recover their own by the
Downfal of a prosperous Man, than be discharged to the common
Satisfaction of themselves and their Creditors. The wretched Man, who
was lately Master of Abundance, is now under the Direction of others;
and the Wisdom, œconomy, good Sense and Skill in human Life before, by
reason of his present Misfortune, are of no Use to him in the
Disposition of any thing. The Incapacity of an Infant or a Lunatick, is
designed for his Provision and Accommodation; but that of a Bankrupt,
without any Mitigation in respect of the Accidents by which it arrived,
is calculated for his utter Ruin, except there be a Remainder ample
enough after the Discharge of his Creditors to bear also the Expence of
rewarding those by whose Means the Effect of all his Labours was
transferred from him. This Man is to look on and see others giving
Directions upon what Terms and Conditions his Goods are to be purchased,
and all this usually done not with an Air of Trustees to dispose of his
Effects, but Destroyers to divide and tear them to Pieces.
There is something sacred in Misery to great and good Minds; for this
Reason all wise Lawgivers have been extremely tender how they let loose
even the Man who has Right on his Side, to act with any Mixture of
Resentment against the Defendant. Virtuous and modest Men, though they
be used with some Artifice, and have it in their Power to avenge
themselves, are slow in the Application of that Power, and are ever
constrained to go into rigorous Measures. They are careful to
demonstrate themselves not only Persons injured, but also that to bear
it longer, would be a Means to make the Offender injure others, before
they proceed. Such Men clap their Hands upon their Hearts, and consider
what it is to have at their Mercy the Life of a Citizen. Such would have
it to say to their own Souls, if possible, That they were merciful when
they could have destroyed, rather than when it was in their Power to
have spared a Man, they destroyed. This is a Due to the common Calamity
of Human Life, due in some measure to our very Enemies. They who scruple
doing the least Injury, are cautious of exacting the utmost Justice.
Let any one who is conversant in the Variety of Human Life reflect upon
it, and he will find the Man who wants Mercy has a Taste of no Enjoyment
of any Kind. There is a natural Disrelish of every thing which is good
in his very Nature, and he is born an Enemy to the World. He is ever
extremely partial to himself in all his Actions, and has no Sense of
Iniquity but from the Punishment which shall attend it. The Law of the
Land is his Gospel, and all his Cases of Conscience are determined by
his Attorney. Such Men know not what it is to gladden the Heart of a
miserable Man, that Riches are the Instruments of serving the Purposes
of Heaven or Hell, according to the Disposition of the Possessor. The
wealthy can torment or gratifie all who are in their Power, and chuse to
do one or other as they are affected with Love or Hatred to Mankind. As
for such who are insensible of the Concerns of others, but merely as
they affect themselves, these Men are to be valued only for their
Mortality, and as we hope better Things from their Heirs. I could not
but read with great Delight a Letter from an eminent Citizen, who has
failed, to one who was intimate with him in his better Fortune, and able
by his Countenance to retrieve his lost Condition.
Sir ,
It is in vain to multiply Words and make Apologies for what is never
to be defended by the best Advocate in the World, the Guilt of being
Unfortunate. All that a Man in my Condition can do or say, will be
received with Prejudice by the Generality of Mankind, but I hope not
with you: You have been a great Instrument in helping me to get what I
have lost, and I know (for that Reason, as well as Kindness to me) you
cannot but be in pain to see me undone. To shew you I am not a Man
incapable of bearing Calamity, I will, though a poor Man, lay aside
the Distinction between us, and talk with the Frankness we did when we
were nearer to an Equality: As all I do will be received with
Prejudice, all you do will be looked upon with Partiality. What I
deSir e of you, is, that you, who are courted by all, would smile upon
me who am shunned by all. Let that Grace and Favour which your Fortune
throws upon you, be turned to make up the Coldness and Indifference
that is used towards me. All good and generous Men will have an Eye of
Kindness for me for my own Sake, and the rest of the World will regard
me for yours. There is an happy Contagion in Riches, as well as a
destructive one in Poverty; the Rich can make rich without parting
with any of their Store, and the Conversation of the Poor makes Men
poor, though they borrow nothing of them. How this is to be accounted
for I know not? but Men's Estimation follows us according to the
Company we keep. If you are what you were to me, you can go a great
Way towards my Recovery; if you are not, my good Fortune, if ever it
returns, will return by slower Approaches.
I am Sir ,
Your Affectionate Friend,
and Humble Servant.
This was answered with a Condescension that did not, by long impertinent
Professions of Kindness, insult his Distress, but was as follows.
Dear Tom,
I am very glad to hear that you have Heart enough to begin the World a
second Time. I assure you, I do not think your numerous Family at all
diminished (in the Gifts of Nature for which I have ever so much
admired them) by what has so lately happened to you. I shall not only
countenance your Affairs with my Appearance for you, but shall
accommodate you with a considerable Sum at common Interest for three
Years. You know I could make more of it; but I have so great a Love
for you that I can wave Opportunities of Gain to help you: For I do
not care whether they say of me after I am dead, that I had an hundred
or fifty thousand Pounds more than I wanted when I was living.
Your obliged humble Servant.
T.
Act I., sc. 2.
Contents
|
Thursday, August 14, 1712 |
Addison |
I shall this Day lay before my Reader a Letter, written by the same Hand
with that of last Friday, which contained Proposals for a Printed
News-paper, that should take in the whole Circle of the Penny-Post.
Sir ,
The kind Reception you gave my last Friday's Letter, in which I
broached my Project of a News-Paper, encourages me to lay before you
two or three more; for, you must know,
Sir , that we look upon you to
be the
Lowndes of the learned World, and cannot think any Scheme
practicable or rational before you have approved of it, tho' all the
Money we raise by it is on our own Funds, and for our private Use.
I have often thought that a
News-Letter of Whispers, written every
Post, and sent about the Kingdom, after the same Manner as that of Mr.
Dyer, Mr.
Dawkes, or any other Epistolary Historian, might be
highly gratifying to the Publick, as well as beneficial to the Author.
By Whispers I mean those Pieces of News which are communicated as
Secrets, and which bring a double Pleasure to the Hearer; first, as
they are private History, and in the next place as they have always in
them a Dash of Scandal.
These are the two chief Qualifications in an
Article of News,
which1 recommend it, in a more than ordinary
Manner, to the Ears of the Curious. Sickness of Persons in high Posts,
Twilight Visits paid and received by Ministers of State, Clandestine
Courtships and Marriages, Secret Amours, Losses at Play, Applications
for Places, with their respective Successes or Repulses, are the
Materials in which I chiefly intend to deal. I have two Persons, that
are each of them the Representative of a Species, who are to furnish
me with those Whispers which I intend to convey to my Correspondents.
The first of these is
Peter Hush, descended from the ancient Family
of the
Hushes. The other is the old Lady
Blast, who has a very
numerous Tribe of Daughters in the two great Cities of
London and
Westminster.
Peter Hush has a whispering Hole in most of the great
Coffee-houses about Town. If you are alone with him in a wide Room, he
carries you up into a Corner of it, and speaks in your Ear. I have
seen
Peter seat himself in a Company of seven or eight Persons, whom
he never saw before in his Life; and after having looked about to see
there was no one that overheard him, has communicated to them in a low
Voice, and under the Seal of Secrecy, the Death of a great Man in the
Country, who was
perhaps a Fox-hunting the very Moment this Account
was
given2 of him. If upon your entring into a Coffee-house you
see a Circle of Heads bending over the Table, and lying close by one
another, it is ten to one but my Friend
Peter is among them. I have
known
Peter publishing the Whisper of the Day by eight a-Clock in
the Morning at
Garraway's, by twelve at
Will's, and before two at
the
Smyrna. When
Peter has thus effectually launched a Secret, I
have been very well pleased to hear People whispering it to one
another at second Hand, and spreading it about as their own; for you
must know,
Sir , the great Incentive to Whispering is the Ambition
which every one has of being thought in the Secret, and being look'd
upon as a Man who has Access to greater People than one would imagine.
After having given you this Account of
Peter Hush, I proceed to that
virtuous Lady, the old Lady
Blast, who is to communicate to me the
private Transactions of the Crimp Table, with all the
Arcana of the
Fair Sex. The Lady
Blast, you must understand, has such a particular
Malignity in her Whisper, that it blights like an Easterly Wind, and
withers every Reputation that it breathes upon. She has a particular
Knack at making private Weddings, and last Winter married above five
Women of Quality to their Footmen. Her Whisper can make an innocent
young Woman big with Child, or fill an healthful young Fellow with
Distempers that are not to be named. She can turn a Visit into an
Intrigue, and a distant Salute into an Assignation. She can beggar the
Wealthy, and degrade the Noble. In short, she can whisper Men Base or
Foolish, Jealous or Ill-natured, or, if Occasion requires, can tell
you the Slips of their Great Grandmothers, and traduce the Memory of
honest Coachmen that have been in their Graves above these hundred
Years. By these and the like Helps, I question not but I shall furnish
out a very handsome News-Letter. If you approve my Project, I shall
begin to whisper by the very next Post, and question not but every one
of my Customers will be very well pleased with me, when he considers
that every Piece of News I send him is a Word in his Ear, and lets him
into a Secret.
Having given you a Sketch of this Project, I shall, in the next Place,
suggest to you another for a Monthly Pamphlet, which I shall likewise
submit to your Spectatorial Wisdom. I need not tell you,
Sir , that
there are several Authors in
France,
Germany, and
Holland, as
well as in our own Country, who publish every Month, what they call
An Account of the Works of the Learned, in which they give us an
Abstract of all such Books as are printed in any Part of
Europe.
Now,
Sir , it is my Design to publish every Month,
An Account of the
Works of the Unlearned. Several late Productions of my own
Countrymen, who many of them make a very eminent Figure in the
Illiterate World, Encourage me in this Undertaking. I may, in this
Work, possibly make a Review of several Pieces which have appeared in
the Foreign
Accounts above-mentioned, tho' they ought not to have
been taken Notice of in Works which bear such a Title. I may,
likewise, take into Consideration, such Pieces as appear, from time to
time, under the Names of those Gentlemen who Compliment one another,
in Publick Assemblies, by the Title of the
Learned Gentlemen. Our
Party-Authors will also afford me a great Variety of Subjects, not to
mention Editors, Commentators, and others, who are often Men of no
Learning, or, what is as bad, of no Knowledge. I shall not enlarge
upon this Hint; but if you think any thing can be made of it, I shall
set about it with all the Pains and Application that so useful a Work
deserves.
I am ever,
Most Worthy Sir , &c.
C.
that
giving
Contents
|
Friday, August 15, 1712 |
Addison |
Greek: 'Lidôs ouk agáthae—Hes.
—Pudor malus—
Hor.
translation
I could not Smile at the Account that was Yesterday given me of a modest
young Gentleman, who being invited to an Entertainment, though he was
not used to drink, had not the Confidence to refuse his Glass in his
Turn, when on a sudden he grew so flustered that he took all the Talk of
the Table into his own Hands, abused every one of the Company, and flung
a Bottle at the Gentleman's Head who treated him. This has given me
Occasion to reflect upon the ill Effects of a vicious Modesty, and to
remember the Saying of
Brutus
, as it is quoted by
Plutarch
, that
the Person has had but an ill Education, who has not been taught to
deny any thing
. This false kind of Modesty has, perhaps, betrayed both
Sexes into as many Vices as the most abandoned Impudence, and is the
more inexcusable to Reason, because it acts to gratify others rather
than it self, and is punished with a kind of Remorse, not only like
other vicious Habits when the Crime is over, but even at the very time
that it is committed.
Nothing is more amiable than true Modesty, and nothing is more
contemptible than the false. The one guards Virtue, the other betrays
it. True Modesty is ashamed to do any thing that is repugnant to the
Rules of right Reason: False Modesty is ashamed to do any thing that is
opposite to the Humour of the Company. True Modesty avoids every thing
that is criminal, false Modesty every thing that is unfashionable. The
latter is only a general undetermined Instinct; the former is that
Instinct, limited and circumscribed by the Rules of Prudence and
Religion.
We may conclude that Modesty to be false and vicious, which engages a
Man to do any thing that is ill or indiscreet, or which restrains him
from doing any thing that is of a contrary Nature. How many Men, in the
common Concerns of Life, lend Sums of Money which they are not able to
spare, are bound for Persons whom they have but little Friendship for,
give Recommendatory Characters of Men whom they are not acquainted with,
bestow Places on those whom they do not esteem, live in such a Manner as
they themselves do not approve, and all this meerly because they have
not the Confidence to resist Solicitation, Importunity or Example?
Nor does this false Modesty expose us only to such Actions as are
indiscreet,
very often to such as are highly criminal. When
Xenophanes
was called timorous, because he would not venture his
Money in a Game at Dice: