Chremylus
, who in the beginning of the Play was
Religious in his Poverty, concludes it with a Proposal which was
relished by all the Good Men who were now grown rich as well as himself,
that they should carry
Plutus
in a Solemn Procession to the Temple,
and Install him in the Place of
Jupiter
. This Allegory instructed the
Athenians
in two Points, first, as it vindicated the Conduct of
Providence in its ordinary Distributions of Wealth; and in the next
Place, as it shewed the great Tendency of Riches to corrupt the Morals
of those who possessed them.
C.
Eccl
. ix. 14-16.
Proverbs
xxx. 7-9.
The Plutus.
were
Man
Contents
|
Saturday, August 23, 1712 |
Addison |
Quâ ratione queas traducere leniter ævum:
Ne te semper inops agitet vexetque cupido;
Ne pavor et rerum mediocriter utilium Spes.
Hor.
translation
Having endeavoured in my last
Saturday's
Paper to shew the great
Excellency of Faith, I here consider what are proper Means of
strengthning and confirming it in the Mind of Man. Those who delight in
reading Books of Controversie, which are written on both sides of the
Question in Points of Faith, do very seldom arrive at a fixed and
settled Habit of it. They are one Day entirely convinced of its
important Truths, and
next meet with something that shakes and
disturbs them. The Doubt
which
was laid revives again, and shews
it self in new Difficulties, and that generally for this Reason, because
the Mind which is perpetually tost in Controversies and Disputes, is apt
to forget the Reasons which had once set it at rest, and to be
disquieted with any former Perplexity, when it appears in a new Shape,
or is started by a different Hand. As nothing is more laudable than an
Enquiry after Truth, so nothing is more irrational than to pass away our
whole Lives, without determining our selves one way or other in those
Points which are of the last Importance to us. There are indeed many
things from which we may with-hold our Assent; but in Cases by which we
are to regulate our Lives, it is the greatest Absurdity to be wavering
and unsettled, without closing with that Side which appears the most
safe and [the] most probable. The first Rule therefore which I shall lay
down is this, that when by Reading or Discourse we find our selves
thoroughly convinced of the Truth of any Article, and of the
Reasonableness of our Belief in it, we should never after suffer our
selves to call it into question. We may perhaps forget the Arguments
which occasioned our Conviction, but we ought to remember the Strength
they had with us, and therefore still to retain the Conviction which
they once produced. This is no more than what we do in every common Art
or Science, nor is it possible to act otherwise, considering the
Weakness and Limitation of our Intellectual Faculties. It was thus, that
Latimer
, one of the glorious Army of Martyrs who introduced the
Reformation in
England
, behaved himself in that great Conference which
was managed between the most learned among the Protestants and Papists
in the Reign of Queen
Mary
. This venerable old Man knowing how his
Abilities were impaired by Age, and that it was impossible for him to
recollect all those Reasons which had directed him in the Choice of his
Religion, left his Companions who were in the full Possession of their
Parts and Learning, to baffle and confound their Antagonists by the
Force of Reason. As for himself he only repeated to his Adversaries the
Articles in which he firmly believed, and in the Profession of which he
was determined to die. It is in this manner that the Mathematician
proceeds upon the Propositions which he has once demonstrated; and
though the Demonstration may have slipt out of his Memory, he builds
upon the Truth, because he knows it was demonstrated. This Rule is
absolutely necessary for weaker Minds, and in some measure for Men of
the greatest Abilities; but to these last I would propose, in the second
place, that they should lay up in their Memories, and always keep by
them in a readiness, those Arguments which appear to them of the
greatest Strength, and which cannot be got over by all the Doubts and
Cavils of Infidelity.
But, in the third place, there is nothing which strengthens Faith more
than Morality. Faith and Morality naturally produce each other. A Man is
quickly convinced of the Truth of Religion, who finds it is not against
his Interest that it should be true. The Pleasure he receives at
Present, and the Happiness which he promises himself from it hereafter,
will both dispose him very powerfully to give Credit to it, according to
the ordinary Observation that
we are easie to believe what we wish
. It
is very certain, that a Man of sound Reason cannot forbear closing with
Religion upon an impartial Examination of it; but at the same time it is
as certain, that Faith is kept alive in us, and gathers Strength from
Practice more than from Speculation.
There is still another Method which is more Persuasive than any of the
former, and that is an habitual Adoration of the Supreme Being, as well
in constant Acts of mental Worship, as in outward Forms. The devout Man
does not only believe but feels there is a Deity. He has actual
Sensations of Him; his Experience concurs with his Reason; he sees him
more and more in all his Intercourses with him, and even in this Life
almost loses his Faith in Conviction.
The last Method which I shall mention for the giving Life to a Man's
Faith, is frequent Retirement from the World, accompanied with religious
Meditation. When a Man thinks of any thing in the Darkness of the Night,
whatever deep Impressions it may make in his Mind, they are apt to
vanish as soon as the Day breaks about him. The Light and Noise of the
Day, which are perpetually soliciting his Senses, and calling off his
Attention, wear out of his Mind the Thoughts that imprinted themselves
in it, with so much Strength, during the Silence and Darkness of the
Night. A Man finds the same Difference as to himself in a Crowd and in a
Solitude: the Mind is stunned and dazzled amidst that Variety of Objects
which press upon her in a great City: She cannot apply herself to the
Consideration of these Things which are of the utmost Concern to her.
The Cares or Pleasures of the World strike in with
Thought, and a
Multitude of vicious Examples
give
a kind of Justification
to
our Folly. In our Retirements every thing disposes us to be
serious. In Courts and Cities we are entertained with the Works of Men;
in the Country with those of God. One is the Province of Art, the other
of Nature. Faith and Devotion naturally grow in the Mind of every
reasonable Man, who sees the Impressions of Divine Power and Wisdom in
every Object on which he casts his Eye. The Supream Being has made the
best Arguments for his own Existence, in the Formation of the Heavens
and the Earth, and these are Arguments which a Man of Sense cannot
forbear attending to, who is out of the Noise and Hurry of Human
Affairs.
Aristotle
says, that should a Man live under Ground, and
there converse with Works of Art and Mechanism, and should afterwards be
brought up into the open Day, and see the several Glories of the Heaven
and Earth, he would immediately pronounce them the Works of such a Being
as we define God to be. The
has very beautiful Strokes of
Poetry to this Purpose, in that exalted Strain,
The Heavens declare the
Glory of God: And the Firmament showeth his handy-work. One Day telleth
another: And one Night certifieth another. There is neither Speech nor
Language: But their Voices are heard among them. Their Sound is gone out
into all Lands: And their Words into the Ends of the World.
As such
a bold and sublime manner of Thinking furnishes very noble Matter for an
Ode, the Reader may see it wrought into the following one
.
| I |
The Spacious Firmament on high
With all the blue Etherial Sky,
And spangled Heav'ns, a Shining Frame,
Their great Original proclaim:
Th' unwearied Sun, from Day to Day,
Does his Creator's Pow'r display,
And publishes to every Land
The Work of an Almighty Hand. |
| II |
Soon as the Evening Shades prevail,
The Moon takes up the wondrous Tale,
And nightly to the listning Earth
Repeats the Story of her Birth:
Whilst all the Stars that round her burn,
And all the Planets in their turn,
Confirm the Tidings as they rowl,
And spread the Truth from Pole to Pole. |
| III |
What though, in solemn Silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial Ball?
What tho' nor real Voice nor Sound
Amid their radiant Orbs be found?
In Reason's Ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious Voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
'The Hand that made us is Divine?' |
C.
that
give us
in
Psalm xix. 1-3.
By Addison.
Contents
|
Monday, August 25, 1712 |
Steele |
When
Æneas
, the Hero of
Virgil
, is lost in the Wood, and a perfect
Stranger in the Place on which he is landed, he is accosted by a Lady in
an Habit for the Chase. She enquires of him, Whether he has seen pass by
that Way any young Woman dressed as she was? Whether she were following
the Sport in the Wood, or any other Way employed, according to the
Custom of Huntresses? The Hero answers with the Respect due to the
beautiful Appearance she made, tells her, He saw no such Person as she
enquired for: but intimates, that he knows her to be of the Deities, and
de
Sir
es she would conduct a Stranger. Her Form from her first Appearance
manifested she was more than mortal; but tho' she was certainly a
Goddess, the Poet does not make her known to be the Goddess of
Beauty
till she moved: All the Charms of an agreeable Person are then in their
highest Exertion, every Limb and Feature appears with its respective
Grace. It is from this Observation,
I cannot help being so
passionate an Admirer as I am of good Dancing
. As all Art is an
Imitation of Nature, this is an Imitation of Nature in its highest
Excellence, and at a Time when she is most agreeable. The Business of
Dancing is to display Beauty, and for that Reason all Distortions and
Mimickries, as such, are what raise Aversion instead of Pleasure: But
Things that are in themselves excellent, are ever attended with
Imposture and false Imitation. Thus, as in Poetry there are laborious
Fools who write Anagrams and Acrosticks, there are Pretenders in
Dancing, who think meerly to do what others cannot, is to excel. Such
Creatures should be rewarded like him who had acquired a Knack of
throwing a Grain of Corn through the Eye of
Needle, with a Bushel to
keep his Hand in Use. The
Dancers
on our Stages are very faulty in
this Kind; and what they mean by writhing themselves into such Postures,
as it would be a Pain for any of the
Spectators
to stand in, and yet
hope to please those
Spectators
, is unintelligible. Mr.
Prince
has a
Genius, if he were encouraged, would prompt them to better things. In
all the Dances he invents, you see he keeps close to the Characters he
represents. He does not hope to please by making his Performers move in
a manner in which no one else ever did, but by Motions proper to the
Characters he represents. He gives to Clowns and Lubbards clumsie
Graces, that is, he makes them Practise what they would think Graces:
And I have seen Dances of his, which might give Hints that would be
useful to a Comick Writer. These Performances have pleas'd the Taste of
such as have not Reflection enough to know their Excellence, because
they are in Nature; and the distorted Motions of others have offended
those who could not form Reasons to themselves for their Displeasure,
from their being a Contradiction to Nature.
When one considers the inexpressible Advantage there is in arriving at
some Excellence in this Art, it is monstrous to behold it so much
neglected. The following Letter has in it something very natural on this
Subject.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I am a Widower with but one Daughter; she was by Nature much inclined
to be a Romp, and I had no way of educating her, but commanding a
young Woman, whom I entertained to take Care of her, to be very
watchful in her Care and Attendance about her. I am a Man of Business,
and obliged to be much abroad. The Neighbours have told me, that in my
Absence our Maid has let in the Spruce Servants in the Neighbourhood
to Junketings, while my Girl play'd and romped even in the Street. To
tell you the plain Truth, I catched her once, at eleven Years old, at
Chuck-Farthing among the Boys. This put me upon new Thoughts about my
Child, and I determined to place her at a Boarding-School, and at the
same Time gave a very discreet young Gentlewoman her Maintenance at
the same Place and Rate, to be her Companion. I took little Notice of
my Girl from Time to Time, but saw her now and then in good Health,
out of Harm's way, and was satisfied. But by much Importunity I was
lately prevailed with to go to one of their Balls. I cannot express to
you the anxiety my silly Heart was in, when I saw my Romp, now
fifteen, taken out: I never felt the pangs of a Father upon me so
strongly in my whole Life before; and I could not have suffered more,
had my whole Fortune been at Stake. My Girl came on with the most
becoming Modesty I had ever seen, and casting a respectful Eye, as if
she feared me more than all the Audience, I gave a Nod, which, I
think, gave her all the Spirit she assumed upon it, but she rose
properly to that Dignity of Aspect. My Romp, now the most graceful
Person of her Sex, assumed a Majesty which commanded the highest
Respect; and when she turned to me, and saw my Face in Rapture, she
fell into the prettiest Smile, and I saw in all her Motion that she
exulted in her Father's Satisfaction. You, Mr. SPECTATOR, will, better
than I can tell you, imagine to yourself all the different Beauties
and Changes of Aspect in an accomplished young Woman, setting forth
all her Beauties with a Design to please no one so much as her Father.
My Girl's Lover can never know half the Satisfaction that I did in her
that Day. I could not possibly have imagined, that so great
Improvement could have been wrought by an Art that I always held in it
self ridiculous and contemptible. There is, I am convinced, no Method
like this, to give young Women a Sense of their own Value and Dignity;
and I am sure there can be none so expeditious to communicate that
Value to others. As for the flippant insipidly Gay and wantonly
Forward, whom you behold among Dancers, that Carriage is more to be
attributed to the perverse Genius of the Performers, than imputed to
the Art it self. For my Part, my Child has danced her self into my
Esteem, and I have as great an Honour for her as ever I had for her
Mother, from whom she derived those latent good Qualities which
appeared in her Countenance when she was dancing; for my Girl, tho' I
say it my self, shewed in one Quarter of an Hour the innate Principles
of a modest Virgin, a tender Wife, a generous Friend, a kind Mother,
and an indulgent Mistress. I'll strain hard but I will purchase for
her an Husband suitable to her Merit. I am your Convert in the
Admiration of what I thought you jested when you recommended; and if
you please to be at my House on Thursday next, I make a Ball for my
Daughter, and you shall see her Dance, or, if you will do her that
Honour, dance with her. I am, Sir ,
Your most humble Servant,
Philipater.
I have some time ago spoken of a Treatise written by Mr.
Weaver
on
this Subject, which is now, I understand, ready to be published. This
Work sets this Matter in a very plain and advantageous Light; and I am
convinced from it, that if the Art was under proper Regulations, it
would be a mechanick way of implanting insensibly in Minds, not capable
of receiving it so well by any other Rules, a Sense of good Breeding and
Virtue.
Were any one to see
Mariamne
Dance, let him be never so sensual a
Brute, I defie him to entertain any Thoughts but of the highest Respect
and Esteem towards her. I was shewed last Week a Picture in a Lady's
Closet, for which she had an hundred different Dresses, that she could
clap on round the Face, on purpose to demonstrate the force of Habits in
the diversity of the same Countenance. Motion, and change of Posture and
Aspect, has an Effect no less surprising on the Person of
Mariamne
when she Dances.
Chloe
is extremely pretty, and as silly as she is pretty. This Ideot
has a very good Ear, and a most agreeable Shape; but the Folly of the
Thing is such, that it Smiles so impertinently, and affects to please so
sillily, that while she Dances you see the Simpleton from Head to Foot.
For you must know (as Trivial as this Art is thought to be) no one ever
was a good Dancer, that had not a good Understanding. If this be a
Truth, I shall leave the Reader to judge from that Maxim, what Esteem
they ought to have for such Impertinents as fly, hop, caper, tumble,
twirl, turn round, and jump over their Heads, and, in a Word, play a
thousand Pranks which many Animals can do better than a Man, instead of
performing to Perfection what the human Figure only is capable of
Performing.
It may perhaps appear odd, that I, who set up for a mighty Lover, at
least, of Virtue, should take so much Pains to recommend what the
soberer Part of Mankind look upon to be a Trifle; but under Favour of
the soberer Part of Mankind, I think they have not enough considered
this Matter, and for that Reason only disesteem it. I must also, in my
own Justification, say that I attempt to bring into the Service of
Honour and Virtue every Thing in Nature that can pretend to give elegant
Delight. It may possibly be proved, that Vice is in it self destructive
of Pleasure, and Virtue in it self conducive to it. If the Delights of a
free Fortune were under proper Regulations, this Truth would not want
much Argument to support it; but it would be obvious to every Man, that
there is a strict Affinity between all Things that are truly laudable
and beautiful, from the highest Sentiment of the Soul, to the most
indifferent Gesture of the Body.
T.
See Nos. [Volume 1 links:
,
], [Volume 2 links:
,
,
].
Dancing
Contents
|
Tuesday, August 26, 1712 |
John Hughes? |
Quodcunque meæ poterunt Audere Camænæ
Seu Tibi par poterunt, seu, quod spes abnuit ultra;
Sive minus; certeque canent minus; omne vovemus
Hoc tibi; ne tanto careat mihi nomine Charta.
Tibull. ad Messalam.
translation
The Love of Praise is a Passion deeply fixed in the Mind of every
extraordinary Person, and those who are most affected with it, seem most
to partake of that Particle of the Divinity which distinguishes Mankind
from the Inferior Creation. The Supreme Being it self is most pleased
with Praise and Thanksgiving; the other Part of our Duty is but an
Acknowledgment of our Faults, whilst this is the immediate Adoration of
his Perfections. 'Twas an excellent Observation, That we then only
despise Commendation when we cease to deserve it:
we have still
extant two Orations of
Tully
and
Pliny
, spoken to the greatest and
best Princes of all the
Roman
Emperors
, who, no doubt, heard with
the greatest Satisfaction, what even the most disinterested Persons, and
at so large a Distance of Time, cannot read without Admiration.
Cæsar
thought his Life consisted in the Breath of Praise, when he professed he
had lived long enough for himself when he had for his Glory; others have
sacrificed themselves for a Name which was not to begin till they were
dead, giving away themselves to purchase a Sound which was not to
commence till they were out of hearing: But by Merit and superior
Excellencies not only to gain, but, whilst living, to enjoy a great and
universal Reputation, is the last Degree of Happiness which we can hope
for here. Bad Characters are dispersed abroad with Profusion, I hope for
example Sake, and (as Punishments are designed by the Civil Power) more
for the deterring the Innocent, than the chastising the Guilty. The Good
are less frequent, whether it be that there are indeed fewer Originals
of this Kind to copy after, or that, thro' the Malignity of our Nature,
we rather delight in the Ridicule than the Virtues we find in others.
However, it is but just, as well as pleasing, even for Variety,
sometimes to give the World a Representation of the bright Side of
humane Nature, as well as the dark and gloomy: The De
Sir
e of Imitation
may, perhaps, be a greater Incentive to the Practice of what is good,
than the Aversion we may conceive at what is blameable; the one
immediately directs you what you should do, whilst the other only shews
you what you should avoid:
I cannot at present do this with more
Satisfaction, than by endeavouring to do some Justice to the Character
of
Manilius
.
It would far exceed my present Design, to give a particular Description
of
Manilius
thro' all the Parts of his excellent Life: I shall now
only draw him in his Retirement, and pass over in Silence the various
Arts, the courtly Manners, and the undesigning Honesty by which he
attained the Honours he has enjoyed, and which now give a Dignity and
Veneration to the Ease he does enjoy. Tis here that he looks back with
Pleasure on the Waves and Billows thro' which he has steered to so fair
an Haven; he is now intent upon the Practice of every Virtue, which a
great Knowledge and Use of Mankind has discovered to be the most useful
to them. Thus in his private domestick Employments he is no less
glorious than in his publick; for 'tis in Reality a more difficult Task
to be conspicuous in a sedentary inactive Life, than in one that is
spent in Hurry and Business; Persons engaged in the latter, like Bodies
violently agitated, from the Swiftness of their Motion have a Brightness
added to them, which often vanishes when they are at Rest; but if it
then still remain, it must be the Seeds of intrinsick Worth that thus
shine out without any foreign Aid or Assistance.
His Liberality in another might almost bear the Name of Profusion; he
seems to think it laudable even in the Excess, like that River which
most enriches when it overflows: But
Manilius
has too perfect a Taste
of the Pleasure of doing good, ever to let it be out of his Power; and
for that Reason he will have a just œconomy, and a splendid Frugality
at home, the Fountain from whence those Streams should flow which he
disperses abroad. He looks with Disdain on those who propose their Death
as the Time when they are to begin their Munificence; he will both see
and enjoy (which he then does in the highest Degree) what he bestows
himself; he will be the living Executor of his own Bounty, whilst they
who have the Happiness to be within his Care and Patronage at once, pray
for the Continuation of his Life, and their own good Fortune. No one is
out of the reach of his Obligations; he knows how, by proper and
becoming Methods, to raise himself to a Level with those of the highest
Rank; and his good Nature is a sufficient Warrant against the Want of
those who are so unhappy as to be in the very lowest.