may say of
him, as
Pindar
bids his Muse say of
Theron
:
Swear, that Theron sure has sworn,
No one near him should be Poor.
Swear, that none e'er had such a graceful Art,
Fortune's Free-Gifts as freely to impart,
With an unenvious Hand, and an unbounded Heart.
Never did
Atticus
succeed better in gaining the universal Love and
Esteem of all Men; nor steer with more Success betwixt the Extreams of
two contending Parties. 'Tis his peculiar Happiness, that while he
espouses neither with an intemperate Zeal, he is not only admired, but,
what is a more rare and unusual Felicity, he is beloved and caressed by
both and I never yet saw any Person of whatsoever Age or Sex, but was
immediately struck with the Merit of
Manilius
. There are many who are
acceptable to some particular Persons, whilst the rest of Mankind look
upon them with Coldness and Indifference but he is the first whose
entire good Fortune it is ever to please and to be pleased, where-ever
he comes to be admired, and where-ever he is absent to be lamented. His
Merit fares like the Pictures of
Raphael
, which are either seen with
Admiration by all, or at least no one dare own he has no Taste for a
Composition which has received so universal an Applause. Envy and Malice
find it against their Interest to indulge Slander and Obloquy. 'Tis as
hard for an Enemy to detract from as for a Friend to add to his Praise.
An Attempt upon his Reputation is a sure lessening of one's own; and
there is but one Way to injure him, which is to refuse him his just
Commendations, and be obstinately silent.
It is below him to catch the Sight with any Care of Dress; his outward
Garb is but the Emblem of his Mind, it is genteel, plain, and
unaffected; he knows that Gold and Embroidery can add nothing to the
Opinion which all have of his Merit, and that he gives a Lustre to the
plainest Dress, whilst 'tis impossible the richest should communicate
any to him. He is still the principal Figure in the Room: He first
engages your Eye, as if there were some Point of Light which shone
stronger upon him than on any other Person.
puts me in mind of a Story of the famous
Bussy d'Amboise
, who
at an Assembly at Court, where every one appeared with the utmost
Magnificence, relying upon his own superior Behaviour, instead of
adorning himself like the rest, put on that Day a plain Suit of Cloaths,
and dressed all his Servants in the most costly gay Habits he could
procure: The Event was, that the Eyes of the whole Court were fixed upon
him, all the rest looked like his Attendants, whilst he alone had the
Air of a Person of Quality and Distinction.
Like
Aristippus
, whatever Shape or Condition he appears in, it still
sits free and easie upon him; but in some Part of his Character, 'tis
true, he differs from him; for as he is altogether equal to the
Largeness of his present Circumstances, the Rectitude of his Judgment
has so far corrected the Inclinations of his Ambition, that he will not
trouble himself with either the De
Sir
es or Pursuits of any thing beyond
his present Enjoyments.
A thousand obliging Things flow from him upon every Occasion, and they
are always so just and natural, that it is impossible to think he was at
the least Pains to look for them. One would think it were the Dæmon of
good Thoughts that discovered to him those Treasures, which he must have
blinded others from seeing, they lay so directly in their Way. Nothing
can equal the Pleasure is taken in hearing him speak, but the
Satisfaction one receives in the Civility and Attention he pays to the
Discourse of others. His Looks are a silent Commendation of what is good
and praise-worthy, and a secret Reproof to what is licentious and
extravagant. He knows how to appear free and open without Danger of
Intrusion, and to be cautious without seeming reserved. The Gravity of
his Conversation is always enlivened with his Wit and Humour, and the
Gaiety of it is tempered with something that is instructive, as well as
barely agreeable. Thus with him you are sure not to be merry at the
Expence of your Reason, nor serious with the Loss of your good Humour;
but, by a happy mixture in his Temper, they either go together, or
perpetually succeed each other. In fine, his whole Behaviour is equally
distant from Constraint and Negligence, and he commands your Respect,
whilst he gains your Heart.
There is in his whole Carriage such an engaging Softness, that one
cannot persuade one's self he is ever actuated by those rougher
Passions, which, where-ever they find Place, seldom fail of shewing
themselves in the outward Demeanour of the Persons they belong to: But
his Constitution is a just Temperature between Indolence on one hand and
Violence on the other. He is mild and gentle, where-ever his Affairs
will give him Leave to follow his own Inclinations; but yet never
failing to exert himself with Vigour and Resolution in the Service of
his Prince, his Country, or his Friend.
Z.
Julius Cæsar and Trajan. Cicero most flattered Cæsar in the
speech
pro Marcello
, but the memorable speech of his before Cæsar was
that for Ligarius, who had borne arms against the new master of Rome in
the African campaign. Cæsar had said,
'Why might we not as well once more hear a speech from Cicero? There
is no doubt that Ligarius is a bad man and an enemy.'
Yet the effect of the speech was that Cæsar was stirred with emotion,
changed colour, and at reference to the battle of Pharsalia,
'he was,' says Plutarch, 'so affected that his body trembled, and some
of the papers he held dropped from his hands, and thus he was
overpowered, and acquitted Ligarius.'
Of Pliny the younger there remains a fulsome Panegyric upon Trajan.
Lord Cowper?
Second Olympic Ode.
Bussy d'Amboise had become famous in England through a
tragedy by George Chapman, often presented in the time of James I., and
revived after the Restoration. In 1691 Chapman's play was produced with
some changes by Thomas D'Urfey. The man himself killed a relation in the
massacre of St. Bartholomew, to get a title, and was trapped and killed
by the Comte de Montsoreau, whose wife he went to seduce.
Contents
|
Wednesday, August 27, 1712 |
Steele |
Erat Homo ingeniosus, acutus, acer, et qui plurimum et salis haberet
et fellis, nec candoris minus.
Plin.
Epist.translation
My Paper is in a kind a Letter of News, but it regards rather what
passes in the World of Conversation than that of Business. I am very
sorry that I have at present a Circumstance before me, which is of very
great
to all who have a Relish for Gayety, Wit, Mirth, or
Humour; I mean the Death of poor
Dick Eastcourt
. I have been
oblig'd to him for so many Hours of Jollity, that it is but a small
Recompence, tho' all I can give him, to pass a Moment or two in Sadness
for the Loss of so agreeable a Man. Poor
Eastcourt
! the last Time I
saw him we were plotting to shew the Town his great Capacity for acting
in its full Light, by introducing him as dictating to a Set of young
Players, in what manner to speak this Sentence, and utter t'other
Passion—He had so exquisite a Discerning of what was defective in any
Object before him, that in an Instant he could shew you the ridiculous
Side of what would pass for beautiful and just, even to Men of no ill
Judgment, before he had pointed at the Failure. He was no less skilful
in the Knowledge of Beauty; and, I dare say, there is no one who knew
him well, but can repeat more well-turned Compliments, as well as smart
Repartees, of Mr.
Eastcourt's
, than of any other Man in
England
.
This was easily to be observed in his inimitable Faculty of telling a
Story, in which he would throw in natural and unexpected Incidents to
make his Court to one Part, and rally the other Part of the Company:
Then he would vary the Usage he gave them, according as he saw them bear
kind or sharp Language. He had the Knack to raise up a pensive Temper,
and mortifie an impertinently gay one, with the most agreeable Skill
imaginable. There are a thousand things which crowd into my Memory,
which make me too much concerned to tell on about him.
Hamlet
holding
up the Skull which the Grave-digger threw to him, with an Account that
it was the Head of the King's Jester, falls into very pleasing
Reflections, and cries out to his Companion,
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a Fellow of infinite Jest,
of most excellent Fancy; he hath born me on his Back a thousand times:
And how abhorred my Imagination is now, my Gorge rises at it. Here
hung those Lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your
Gibes now, your Gambols, your Songs, your Flashes of Merriment, that
were wont to set the Table on a Roar: No one now to mock your own
Jeerings: quite Chop-fallen. Now get you to my Lady's Chamber, and
tell her, Let her paint an Inch thick, to this Favour she must come.
Make her laugh at that.
It is an Insolence natural to the Wealthy, to affix, as much as in them
lies, the Character of a Man to his Circumstances. Thus it is ordinary
with them to praise faintly the good Qualities of those below them, and
say, It is very extraordinary in such a Man as he is, or the like, when
they are forced to acknowledge the Value of him whose Lowness upbraids
their Exaltation. It is to this Humour only, that it is to be ascribed,
that a quick Wit in Conversation, a nice Judgment upon any Emergency,
that could arise, and a most blameless inoffensive Behaviour, could not
raise this Man above being received only upon the Foot of contributing
to Mirth and Diversion. But he was as easy under that Condition, as a
Man of so excellent Talents was capable; and since they would have it,
that to divert was his Business, he did it with all the seeming Alacrity
imaginable, tho' it stung him to the Heart that it was his Business. Men
of Sense, who could taste his Excellencies, were well satisfied to let
him lead the Way in Conversation, and play after his own Manner; but
Fools who provoked him to Mimickry, found he had the Indignation to let
it be at their Expence who called for it, and he would shew the Form of
conceited heavy Fellows as Jests to the Company at their own Request, in
Revenge for interrupting him from being a Companion to put on the
Character of a Jester.
What was peculiarly excellent in this memorable Companion, was, that in
the Accounts he gave of Persons and Sentiments, he did not only hit the
Figure of their Faces, and Manner of their Gestures, but he would in his
Narration fall into their very Way of thinking, and this when he
recounted Passages, wherein Men of the best Wit were concerned, as well
as such wherein were represented Men of the lowest Rank of
Understanding. It is certainly as great an Instance of Self-love to a
Weakness, to be impatient of being mimick'd, as any can be imagined.
There were none but the Vain, the Formal, the Proud, or those who were
incapable of amending their Faults, that dreaded him; to others he was
in the highest Degree pleasing; and I do not know any Satisfaction of
any indifferent kind I ever tasted so much, as having got over an
Impatience of seeing my self in the Air he could put me when I have
displeased him. It is indeed to his exquisite Talent this way, more than
any Philosophy I could read on the Subject, that my Person is very
little of my Care; and it is indifferent to me what is said of my Shape,
my Air, my Manner, my Speech, or my Address. It is to poor
Eastcourt
I
chiefly owe that I am arrived at the Happiness of thinking nothing a
Diminution to me, but what argues a Depravity of my Will.
It has as much surprized me as any thing in Nature, to have it
frequently said, That he was not a good Player: But that must be owing
to a Partiality for former Actors in the Parts in which he succeeded
them, and judging by Comparison of what was liked before, rather than by
the Nature of the Thing. When
Man of his Wit and Smartness could put
on an utter Absence of common Sense in his Face as he did in the
Character of
Bulfinch
in the
Northern Lass
and an
of insipid
Cunning and Vivacity in the Character of
Pounce
in the
Tender
Husband
, it is Folly to dispute his Capacity and Success, as he was
an Actor.
Poor
Eastcourt
! let the Vain and Proud be at Rest; thou wilt no more
disturb their Admiration of their dear selves, and thou art no longer to
drudge in raising the Mirth of Stupids, who know nothing of thy Merit,
for thy Maintenance.
It is natural for the Generality of Mankind to run into Reflections upon
our Mortality, when Disturbers of the World are laid at Rest, but to
take no Notice when they who can please and divert are pulled from us:
But for my Part, I cannot but think the Loss of such Talents as the Man
of whom I am speaking was Master of, a more melancholy Instance of
Mortality, than the Dissolution of Persons of never so high Characters
in the World, whose Pretensions were that they were noisy and
mischievous.
But I must grow more succinct, and as a SPECTATOR, give an Account of
this extraordinary Man, who, in his Way, never had an Equal in any Age
before him, or in that wherein he lived. I speak of him as a Companion,
and a Man qualified for Conversation. His Fortune exposed him to an
Obsequiousness towards the worst Sort of Company, but his excellent
Qualities rendered him capable of making the best Figure in the most
refined. I have been present with him among Men of the most delicate
Taste a whole Night, and have known him (for he saw it was de
Sir
ed) keep
the Discourse to himself the most Part of it, and maintain his good
Humour with a Countenance in a Language so delightful, without Offence
to any Person or Thing upon Earth, still preserving the Distance his
Circumstances obliged him to; I say, I have seen him do all this in such
a charming manner, that I am sure none of those I hint at will read
this, without giving him some Sorrow for their abundant Mirth, and one
Gush of Tears for so many Bursts of Laughter. I
it were any Honour
to the pleasant Creature's Memory, that my Eyes are too much suffused to
let me
go on—.
T.
See p. 204, vol. ii. [Volume 2 links:
of
]
By Richard Brome, first acted in 1632.
By Steele.
go on—
It is a felicity his Friends may rejoice in, that he had his Senses,
and used them as he ought to do, in his last Moments. It is remarkable
that his Judgment was in its calm Perfection to the utmost Article,
for when his Wife out of her fondness, deSir ed she might send for a
certain illiterate Humourist (whom he had accompanied in a thousand
mirthful Moments, and whose Insolence makes Fools think he assumes
from conscious Merit) he answered, 'Do what you please, but he won't
come near me.' Let poor Eastcourt's Negligence about this Message
convince the unwary of a triumphant Empiric's Ignorance and
Inhumanity.
This passage, omitted from the reprint, expresses Steele's anger at the
neglect of Estcourt in his last hours by Dr. John Radcliffe, one of the
chief physicians of the time, who as a rough-spoken humourist made many
enemies, and was condemned as an empiric by many of his professional
brethren. When called, in 1699, to attend King William, who asked his
opinion on his swollen ankles, he said, 'I would not have your Majesty's
two legs for your three kingdoms.' His maxim for making a fortune was to
use all men ill, but Mead, it has been observed, made more money by the
opposite method. Not very long after this bitter censure of Radcliffe
for neglect of Estcourt, attempts were made to censure him formally in
the House of Commons for refusal to attend in the last illness of Queen
Anne, although requested to do so by the Privy Council. He denied that
he had been asked to attend. He died himself three months after the
Queen (in 1714, aged 64), his last days embittered by the public odium
following the charge of disrespect to his dying sovereign. He died
unmarried, and left the greater part of his money to beneficent uses,
among them the erection of an infirmary and of the Radcliffe Library in
Oxford.
Contents
|
Thursday, August 28, 1712 |
Addison |
Detrahere aliquid altieri, et hominem hominis incommodo suum augere
commodum, magis est contra naturam, quam mors, quam paupertas, quam
dolor, quam cætera quæ possunt aut corpori accidere, aut rebus
externis.
Tull.
translation
I am perswaded there are few Men of generous Principles, who would seek
after great Places, were it not rather to have an Opportunity in their
Hands of obliging their particular Friends, or those whom they look upon
as Men of Worth, than to procure Wealth and Honour for themselves. To an
honest Mind the best Perquisites of a Place are the Advantages it gives
a Man of doing Good.
Those who are under the great Officers of State, and are the Instruments
by which they act, have more frequent Opportunities for the Exercise of
Compassion, and Benevolence, than their Superiors themselves. These Men
know every little Case that is to come before the Great Man, and if they
are possessed with honest Minds, will consider Poverty as a
Recommendation in the Person who applies himself to them, and make the
Justice of his Cause the most powerful Solicitor in his Behalf. A Man of
this Temper, when he is in a Post of Business, becomes a Blessing to the
Publick: He patronizes the Orphan and the Widow, assists the Friendless,
and guides the Ignorant: He does not reject the Person's Pretensions,
who does not know how to explain them, or refuse doing a good Office for
a Man because he cannot pay the Fee of it. In
, tho' he regulates
himself in all his Proceedings by Justice and Equity, he finds a
thousand
Occasions for all the Good-natured Offices of
Generosity
and Compassion.
A Man is unfit for such a Place of Trust, who is of a sower untractable
Nature, or has any other Passion that makes him uneasie to those who
approach him. Roughness of Temper is apt to discountenance the Timorous
or Modest. The proud Man discourages those from approaching him, who are
of a mean Condition, and who most want his Assistance. The impatient Man
will not give himself time to be informed of the Matter that lies before
him. An Officer with one or more of these unbecoming Qualities, is
sometimes looked upon as a proper Person to keep off Impertinence and
Solicitation from his Superior; but this is a kind of Merit, that can
never attone for the Injustice which may very often arise from it.
There are two other vicious Qualities which render a Man very unfit for
such a Place of Trust. The first of these is a Dilatory Temper, which
commits innumerable Cruelties without Design. The Maxim which several
have laid down for a Man's Conduct in ordinary Life should be inviolable
with a Man in Office, never to think of doing that To-morrow which may
be done To-day. A Man who defers doing what ought to be done, is guilty
of Injustice so long as he defers it. The Dispatch of a good Office is
very often as beneficial to the Solicitor as the good Office it self. In
short, if a Man compared the Inconveniences which another suffers by his
Delays, with the trifling Motives and Advantages which he himself may
reap by such a Delay, he would never be guilty of a Fault which very
often does an irreparable Prejudice to the Person who depends upon him,
and which might be remedied with little Trouble to himself.
But in the last Place, there is no Man so improper to be employed in
Business, as he who is in any degree capable of Corruption; and such an
one is the Man, who, upon any Pretence whatsoever, receives more than
what is the stated and unquestioned Fee of his Office. Gratifications,
Tokens of Thankfulness, Dispatch Money, and the like specious Terms, are
the Pretences under which Corruption very frequently shelters it self.
An honest Man will however look on all these Methods as unjustifiable,
and will enjoy himself better in a moderate Fortune that is gained with
honour and Reputation, than in an overgrown Estate that is cankered with
the Acquisitions of Rapine and Exaction. Were all our Offices discharged
with such an inflexible Integrity, we should not see Men in all Ages,
who grow up to exorbitant Wealth with the Abilities which are to be met
with in an ordinary Mechanick. I cannot but think that such a Corruption
proceeds chiefly from Mens employing the first that offer themselves, or
those who have the Character of shrewd worldly Men, instead of searching
out such as have had a liberal Education, and have been trained up in
the Studies of Knowledge and Virtue.
It has been observed, that Men of Learning who take to Business,
discharge it generally with greater Honesty than Men of the World. The
chief Reason for it I take to be as follows. A Man that has spent his
Youth in Reading, has been used to find Virtue extolled, and Vice
stigmatized. A Man that has past his Time in the World, has often seen
Vice triumphant, and Virtue discountenanced. Extortion, Rapine and
Injustice, which are branded with Infamy in Books, often give a Man a
Figure in the World; while several Qualities which are celebrated in
Authors, as Generosity, Ingenuity and Good-Nature, impoverish and ruin
him. This cannot but have a proportionable Effect on Men, whose Tempers
and Principles are equally Good and Vicious.
There would be at least this Advantage in employing Men of Learning and
Parts in Business, that their Prosperity would set more gracefully on
them, and that we should not see many worthless Persons shot up into the
greatest Figures of Life.
C.
Opportunities of exercising his
Contents
|
Friday, August 29, 1712 |
Addison |
Turpe est difficiles babere nugas,
Et stultus est labor ineptiarum.
Mart.
translation
I have been very often disappointed of late Years, when upon examining
the new Edition of a Classick Author, I have found above half the Volume
taken up with various Readings. When I have expected to meet with a
learned Note upon a doubtful Passage in a
Latin
Poet, I have only been
informed, that such or such Ancient Manuscripts for an
et
write an
ac
, or of some other notable Discovery of the like Importance. Indeed,
when a different Reading gives us a different Sense, or a new Elegance
in an Author, the Editor does very well in taking Notice of it; but when
he only entertains us with the several ways of spelling the same Word,
and gathers together the various Blunders and Mistakes of twenty or
thirty different Transcribers, they only take up the Time of the learned
Reader, and puzzle the Minds of the Ignorant. I have often fancied with
my self how enraged an old
Latin
Author would be, should he see the
several Absurdities in Sense and Grammar, which are imputed to him by
some or other of these various Readings. In one he speaks Nonsense; in
another, makes use of a Word that was never heard of: And indeed there
is scarce a Solecism in Writing which the best Author is not guilty of,
if we may be at Liberty to read him in the Words of some Manuscript,
which the laborious Editor has thought fit to examine in the Prosecution
of his Work.
I question not but the Ladies and pretty Fellows will be very curious to
understand what it is that I have been hitherto talking of. I shall
therefore give them a Notion of this Practice, by endeavouring to write
after the manner of several Persons who make an eminent Figure in the
Republick of Letters. To
end we will suppose that the following
Song
is an old Ode which I present to the Publick in a new
Edition, with the several various Readings which I find of it in former
Editions, and in Ancient Manuscripts. Those who cannot relish the
various Readings, will perhaps find their Account in the Song, which
never before appeared in Print.
My Love was fickle once and changing,
Nor e'er would settle in my Heart;
From Beauty still to Beauty ranging,
In ev'ry Face I found a Dart.
'Twas first a charming Shape enslav'd me,
An Eye then gave the fatal Stroke;
'Till by her Wit Corinna sav'd me,
And all my former Fetters broke.
But now a long and lasting Anguish
For Belvidera I endure;
Hourly I Sigh and hourly Languish,
Nor hope to find the wonted Cure.
For here the false unconstant Lover,
After a thousand Beauties shown,
Does new surprizing Charms discover,
And finds Variety in One.
Various Readings.
Stanza the First, Verse the First.
And changing
.] The
and
in some
Manuscripts is written thus,
&
, but that in the
Cotton
Library
writes it in three distinct Letters.
Verse the Second,
Nor e'er would
.]
Aldus
reads it
ever would