T.
Is this another version of the very wise man whom Andrew
Fletcher of Saltoun, in a letter to Montrose, said that he knew, who
'believed, that if a Man were permitted to make all the ballads, he
need not care who should make the laws of a nation'?
Andrew Fletcher, who could not have known any of Elizabeth's statesmen,
was yet alive when this paper was written.
Heautontimoroumenos
, Act ii. sc. 2.
Dogget had been acting a few nights before in
the Country
Wake
. The part of Hob was his own in every sense, he being the author
of the farce, which afterwards was made into a very popular ballad opera
called
Flora
, or
Hob in the Well
.
Contents
|
Tuesday, October 7, 1712 |
Steele |
Deleo omnes dehinc ex animo Mulieres.
Ter.
translation
Mr. SPECTATOR,
'You have often mention'd with great Vehemence and Indignation the
Misbehaviour of People at Church; but I am at present to talk to you
on that Subject, and complain to you of one, whom at the same time I
know not what to accuse of, except it be looking too well there, and
diverting the Eyes of the Congregation to that one Object. However I
have this to say, that she might have stay'd at her own Parish, and
not come to perplex those who are otherwise intent upon their Duty.
'Last
Sunday was Seven-night I went into a Church not far from
London-Bridge; but I wish I had been contented to go to my own
Parish, I am sure it had been better for me: I say, I went to Church
thither, and got into a Pew very near the Pulpit. I had hardly been
accommodated with a Seat, before there entered into the Isle a young
Lady in the very Bloom of Youth and Beauty, and dressed in the most
elegant manner imaginable. Her Form was such, that it engaged the Eyes
of the whole Congregation in an Instant, and mine among the rest. Tho'
we were all thus fixed upon her, she was not in the least out of
Countenance, or under the least Disorder, tho' unattended by any one,
and not seeming to know particularly where to place her self. However,
she had not in the least a confident Aspect, but moved on with the
most graceful Modesty, every one making Way till she came to a Seat
just over-against that in which I was placed. The Deputy of the Ward
sat in that Pew, and she stood opposite to him; and at a Glance into
the Seat, tho' she did not appear the least acquainted with the
Gentleman, was let in, with a Confusion that spoke much Admiration at
the Novelty of the Thing. The Service immediately began, and she
compos'd her self for it with an Air of so much Goodness and
Sweetness, that the Confession which she uttered so as to be heard
where I sat, appeared an Act of Humiliation more than she had Occasion
for. The Truth is, her Beauty had something so innocent, and yet so
sublime, that we all gazed upon her like a Phantom. None of the
Pictures which we behold of the best
Italian Painters, have any
thing like the Spirit which appeared in her Countenance, at the
different Sentiments expressed in the several Parts of Divine Service:
That Gratitude and Joy at a Thanksgiving, that Lowliness and Sorrow at
the Prayers for the Sick and Distressed, that Triumph at the Passages
which gave Instances of divine Mercy, which appeared respectively in
her Aspect, will be in my Memory to my last Hour. I protest to you,
Sir , she suspended the Devotion of every one around her; and the Ease
she did every thing with, soon dispersed the churlish Dislike and
Hesitation in approving what is excellent, too frequent amongst us, to
a general Attention and Entertainment in observing her Behaviour. All
the while that we were gazing at her, she took Notice of no Object
about her, but had an Art of seeming awkwardly attentive, whatever
else her Eyes were accidentally thrown upon. One Thing indeed was
particular, she stood the whole Service, and never kneeled or sat; I
do not question but that was to shew her self with the greater
Advantage, and set forth to better Grace her Hands and Arms, lifted up
with the most ardent Devotion, and her Bosom, the fairest Observation;
while she, you must think, knew nothing of the Concern she gave
others, any other than as an Example of Devotion, that threw her self
out, without regard to Dress or Garment, all Contrition, and loose of
all Worldly Regards, in Ecstasy of Devotion. Well, now the Organ was
to play a Voluntary, and she was so skilful in Musick, and so touched
with it, that she kept time not only with some Motion of her Head, but
also with a different Air in her Countenance. When the Musick was
strong and bold, she look'd exalted, but serious; when lively and
airy, she was smiling and gracious; when the Notes were more soft and
languishing, she was kind and full of Pity. When she had now made it
visible to the whole Congregation, by her Motion and Ear, that she
could dance, and she wanted now only to inform us that she could sing
too, when the Psalm was given out, her Voice was distinguished above
all the rest, or rather People did not exert their own in order to
hear her. Never was any heard so sweet and so strong. The Organist
observed it, and he thought fit to play to her only, and she swelled
every Note; when she found she had thrown us all out, and had the last
Verse to herself in such a manner as the whole Congregation was intent
upon her, in the same manner as we see in the Cathedrals, they are on
the Person who sings alone the Anthem. Well, it came at last to the
Sermon, and our young Lady would not lose her Part in that neither;
for she fixed her Eye upon the Preacher, and as he said any thing she
approved, with one of
Charles Mathers's fine Tablets she set down
the Sentence, at once shewing her fine Hand, the Gold-Pen, her
Readiness in Writing, and her Judgment in chusing what to write. To
sum up what I intend by this long and particular Account, I mean to
appeal to you, whether it is reasonable that such a Creature as this
shall come from a jaunty Part of the Town, and give herself such
violent Airs, to the disturbance of an innocent and inoffensive
Congregation, with her Sublimities. The Fact, I assure you, was as I
have related; but I had like to have forgot another very considerable
Particular. As soon as Church was done, she immediately stepp'd out of
her Pew, and fell into the finest pitty-pat Air, forsooth, wonderfully
out of Countenance, tossing her Head up and down as she swam along the
Body of the Church. I, with several others of the Inhabitants,
follow'd her out, and saw her hold up her Fan to an Hackney-Coach at a
Distance, who immediately came up to her, and she whipp'd into it with
great Nimbleness, pull'd the Door with a bowing Mein, as if she had
been used to a better Glass. She said aloud,
You know where to go,
and drove off. By this time the best of the Congregation was at the
Church-Door, and I could hear some say,
A very fine Lady; others,
I'll warrant ye, she's no better than she should be; and one very
wise old Lady said,
She ought to have been taken up. Mr. SPECTATOR,
I think this Matter lies wholly before you: for the Offence does not
come under any Law, tho' it is apparent this Creature came among us
only to give herself Airs, and enjoy her full Swing in being admir'd.
I de
Sir e you would print this, that she may be confin'd to her own
Parish; for I can assure you there is no attending any thing else in a
Place where she is a Novelty. She has been talked of among us ever
since under the Name of the
Phantom: But I would advise her to come
no more; for there is so strong a Party made by the Women against her,
that she must expect they will not be excell'd a second time in so
outrageous a manner, without doing her some Insult. Young Women, who
assume after this rate, and affect exposing themselves to view in
Congregations at t'other end of the Town, are not so mischievous,
because they are rivall'd by more of the same Ambition, who will not
let the rest of the Company be particular: But in the Name of the
whole Congregation where I was, I de
Sir e you to keep these agreeable
Disturbances out of the City, where Sobriety of Manners is still
preserv'd, and all glaring and ostentatious Behaviour, even in things
laudable, discountenanced. I wish you may never see the Phantom, and
am,'
Sir ,
Your most humble Servant,
Ralph Wonder.
T.
Contents
|
Wednesday, October 8, 1712 |
Steele |
It is a great Convenience to those who want Wit to furnish out a
Conversation, that there is something or other in all Companies where it
is wanted substituted in its stead, which according to their Taste, does
the Business as well. Of this nature is the agreeable Pastime in
Country-Halls of Cross-purposes, Questions and Commands, and the like. A
little superior to these are those who can play at Crambo, or cap
Verses. Then above them are such as can make Verses, that is, Rhime; and
among those who have the
Latin
Tongue, such as use to make what they
call golden Verses. Commend me also to those who have not Brains enough
for any of these Exercises, and yet do not give up their Pretensions to
Mirth. These can slap you on the Back unawares, laugh loud, ask you how
you do with a Twang on your Shoulders, say you are dull to-day, and
laugh a Voluntary to put you in Humour; the laborious Way among the
minor Poets, of making things come into such and such a Shape, as that
of an Egg, an Hand, an Ax, or any thing that no body had ever thought on
before for that purpose, or which would have cost a great deal of Pains
to accomplish it if they did. But all these Methods, tho' they are
mechanical, and may be arrived at with the smallest Capacity, do not
serve an honest Gentleman who wants Wit for his Ordinary Occasions;
therefore it is absolutely necessary that the Poor in Imagination should
have something which may be serviceable to them at all Hours upon all
common Occurrences. That which we call Punning is therefore greatly
affected by Men of small Intellects. These Men need not be concerned
with you for the whole Sentence; but if they can say a quaint thing, or
bring in a Word which sounds like any one Word you have spoken to them
they can turn the Discourse, or distract you so that you cannot go on,
and by consequence if they cannot be as witty as you are, they can
hinder your being any wittier than they are. Thus if you talk of a
Candle, he
can deal
with you; and if you ask him to help you to some
Bread, a Punster should think himself very ill-
bred
if he did not; and
if he is not as well-
bred
as your self, he hopes for
Grains
of
Allowance. If you do not understand that last Fancy, you must recollect
that Bread is made of Grain; and so they go on for ever, without
Possibility of being exhausted.
There are another Kind of People of small Faculties, who supply want of
Wit with want of Breeding; and because Women are both by Nature and
Education more offended at any thing which is immodest than we Men are,
these are ever harping upon things they ought not to allude to, and deal
mightily in double Meanings. Every one's own Observation will suggest
Instances enough of this kind, without my mentioning any; for your
double Meaners are dispersed up and down thro' all Parts of Town or City
where there are any to offend, in order to set off themselves. These Men
are mighty loud Laughers, and held very pretty Gentlemen with the
sillier and unbred Part of Womankind. But above all already mentioned,
or any who ever were, or ever can be in the World, the happiest and
surest to be pleasant, are a Sort of People whom we have not indeed
lately heard much of, and those are your
Biters
.
A
Biter
is one who tells you a thing you have no reason to
disbelieve in it self; and perhaps has given you, before he bit you, no
reason to disbelieve it for his saying it; and if you give him Credit,
laughs in your Face, and triumphs that he has deceiv'd you. In a Word, a
Biter
is one who thinks you a Fool, because you do not think him a
Knave. This Description of him one may insist upon to be a just one; for
what else but a Degree of Knavery is it, to depend upon Deceit for what
you gain of another, be it in point of Wit, or Interest, or any thing
else?
This way of Wit is called
Biting
, by a Metaphor taken from Beasts of
Prey, which devour harmless and unarmed Animals, and look upon them as
their Food wherever they meet them. The Sharpers about Town very
ingeniously understood themselves to be to the undesigning Part of
Mankind what Foxes are to Lambs, and therefore used the Word
Biting
to
express any Exploit wherein they had over-reach'd any innocent and
inadvertent Man of his Purse. These Rascals of late Years have been the
Gallants of the Town, and carried it with a fashionable haughty Air, to
the discouragement of Modesty and all honest Arts. Shallow Fops, who are
govern'd by the Eye, and admire every thing that struts in vogue, took
up from the Sharpers the Phrase of
Biting
, and used it upon all
Occasions, either to disown any nonsensical Stuff they should talk
themselves, or evade the Force of what was reasonably said by others.
Thus, when one of these cunning Creatures was enter'd into a Debate with
you, whether it was practicable in the present State of Affairs to
accomplish such a Proposition, and you thought he had let fall what
destroy'd his Side of the Question, as soon as you look'd with an
Earnestness ready to lay hold of it, he immediately cry'd,
Bite
, and
you were immediately to acknowledge all that Part was in Jest. They
carry this to all the Extravagance imaginable, and if one of these
Witlings knows any Particulars which may give Authority to what he says,
he is still the more ingenious if he imposes upon your Credulity. I
remember a remarkable Instance of this Kind. There came up a shrewd
young Fellow to a plain young Man, his Countryman, and taking him aside
with a grave concern'd Countenance, goes on at this rate: I see you
here, and have you heard nothing out of
Yorkshire
—You look so
surpriz'd you could not have heard of it—and yet the Particulars are
such, that it cannot be false: I am sorry I am got into it so far that I
now must tell you; but I know not but it may be for your Service to
know—on
Tuesday
last, just after Dinner—you know his Manner is to
smoke, opening his Box, your Father fell down dead in an Apoplexy. The
Youth shew'd the filial Sorrow which he ought—Upon which the witty Man
cry'd,
Bite, there was nothing in all this
—
To put an end to this silly, pernicious, frivolous Way at once, I will
give the Reader one late Instance of a
Bite
, which no
Biter
for the
future will ever be able to equal, tho' I heartily wish him the same
Occasion. It is a Superstition with some Surgeons who beg the Bodies of
condemn'd Malefactors, to go to the Gaol, and bargain for the Carcase
with the Criminal himself. A good honest Fellow did so last Sessions,
and was admitted to the condemned Men on the Morning wherein they died.
The Surgeon communicated his Business, and fell into discourse with a
little Fellow, who refused Twelve Shillings, and insisted upon Fifteen
for his Body. The Fellow, who kill'd the Officer of
Newgate
, very
forwardly, and like a Man who was willing to deal, told him, Look you,
Mr. Surgeon, that little dry Fellow, who has been half-starved all his
Life, and is now half-dead with Fear, cannot answer your Purpose. I have
ever liv'd high and freely, my Veins are full, I have not pined in
Imprisonment; you see my Crest swells to your Knife, and after
Jack-Catch
has done, upon my Honour you'll find me as sound as e'er a
Bullock in any of the Markets. Come, for Twenty Shillings I am your
Man—Says the Surgeon, Done, there's a Guinea—This witty Rogue took the
Money, and as soon as he had it in his Fist, cries,
Bite, I am to be
hang'd in Chains.
T.
See [Volume 1 link:
]. Swift writes,
'I'll teach you a way to outwit Mrs. Johnson; it is a new fashioned
way of being witty, and they call it a Bite. You must ask a
bantering question, or tell some lie in a serious manner, then she
will answer, or speak as if you were in earnest, and then cry you,
"Madam, there's a Bite." I would not have you undervalue this, for
it is the constant amusement in Court, and every where else among the
great people; and I let you know it, in order to have it among you,
and to teach you a new refinement.'
(Journal to Stella). Although 'bite' and 'biter' have not retained this
sense, it remains in an occasional use of the word 'bitten.'
Contents
|
Thursday, October 9, 1712 |
Addison |
Non habeo denique nauci Marsum Augurem,
Non vicanos Aruspices, non de circo Astrologos,
Non Isiacos Conjectores, non Interpletes somnium:
Non enim sunt ii aut scientiâ, aut arte Divini,
Sed superstitiosi vates, impudentesque harioli,
Aut inertes, aut insani, aut quibus egestas imperat:
Qui sui questus causa fictas suscitant sententias,
Qui sibi semitam non sapiunt, alteri monstrant viam,
Quibus divitias pollicentur, ab iis drachmam petunt;
De divitiis deducant drachmam, reddant cœtera.
Ennius.
translation
Those who have maintain'd that Men would be more miserable than Beasts,
were their Hopes confin'd to this Life only; among other Considerations
take notice that the latter are only afflicted with the Anguish of the
present Evil, whereas the former are very often pained by the Reflection
on what is passed, and the Fear of what is to come. This Fear of any
Future Difficulties or Misfortunes is so natural to the Mind, that were
a Man's Sorrows and Disquietudes summ'd up at the End of his Life, it
would generally be found that he had suffer'd more from the Apprehension
of such Evils as never happen'd to him, than from those Evils which had
really befallen him. To this we may add, that among those Evils which
befal us, there are many that have been more painful to us in the
Prospect, than by their actual Pressure.
This natural Impatience to look into Futurity, and to know what
Accidents may happen to us hereafter, has given birth to many ridiculous
Arts and Inventions. Some found their Prescience on the Lines of a Man's
Hand, others on the Features of his Face; some on the Signatures which
Nature has impressed on his Body, and others on his own Hand-Writing:
Some read Men's Fortunes in the Stars, as others have searched after
them in the Entrails of Beasts, or the Flights of Birds. Men of the best
Sense have been touched, more or less, with these groundless Horrours
and Presages of Futurity, upon surveying the most indifferent Works of
Nature. Can any thing be more surprizing than to consider
Cicero
, who
made the greatest Figure at the Bar, and in the Senate of the
Roman
Commonwealth, and, at the same time, outshined all the Philosophers of
Antiquity in his Library and in his Retirements, as busying himself in
the College of Augurs, and observing, with a religious Attention, after
what manner the Chickens peck'd the several Grains of Corn which were
thrown to them?
Notwithstanding these Follies are pretty well worn out of the Minds of
the Wise and Learned in the present Age, Multitudes of weak and ignorant
Persons are still Slaves to them. There are numberless Arts of
Prediction among the Vulgar, which are too trifling to enumerate; and
infinite Observations, of Days, Numbers, Voices, and Figures, which are
regarded by them as Portents and Prodigies. In short, every thing
Prophesies to the superstitious Man, there is scarce a Straw or a rusty
Piece of Iron that lies in his way by Accident.
It is not to be conceiv'd how many Wizards, Gypsies, and Cunning-Men are
dispers'd thro' all the Countries and Market-Towns of
Great-Britain
,
not to mention the Fortune-tellers and Astrologers, who live very
comfortably upon the Curiosity of several well-dispos'd Persons in the
Cities of
London
and
Westminster
.
Among the many pretended Arts of Divination, there is none which so
universally amuses as that by Dreams. I have indeed observ'd in a late
Speculation, that there have been sometimes, upon very extraordinary
Occasions, supernatural Revelations made to certain Persons by this
means; but as it is the chief Business of this Paper to root out popular
Errors, I must endeavour to expose the Folly and Superstition of those
Persons, who, in the common and ordinary course of Life, lay any stress
upon things of so uncertain, shadowy, and chimerical a nature. This I
cannot do more effectually than by the following Letter, which is dated
from a Quarter of the Town that has always been the Habitation of some
prophetick
Philomath
; it
been usual, time out of Mind, for all
such People as have lost their Wits, to resort to that Place either for
their Cure
or for their Instruction.
Moor-Fields, Oct. 4, 1712.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
'Having long consider'd whether there be any Trade wanting in this
great City, after having survey'd very attentively all kinds of Ranks
and Professions, I do not find in any Quarter of the Town an
Oneirocritick, or, in plain English, an Interpreter of Dreams. For
want of so useful a Person, there are several good People who are very
much puzled in this Particular, and dream a whole Year together
without being ever the wiser for it. I hope I am pretty well qualify'd
for this Office, having studied by Candlelight all the Rules of Art
which have been laid down upon this Subject. My great Uncle by my
Wife's Side was a Scotch Highlander, and second-sighted. I have four
Fingers and two Thumbs upon one Hand, and was born on the longest
Night of the Year. My Christian and Sir -Name begin and end with the
same Letters. I am lodg'd in Moorfields, in a House that for these
fifty years has been always tenanted by a Conjurer.
'If you had been in Company, so much as my self, with ordinary Women
of the Town, you must know that there are many of them who every day
in their Lives, upon seeing or hearing of any thing that is
unexpected, cry, My Dream is out; and cannot go to sleep in quiet
the next night, till something or other has happen'd which has
expounded the Visions of the preceding one. There are others who are
in very great pain for not being able to recover the Circumstances of
a Dream, that made strong Impressions upon them while it lasted. In
short, Sir , there are many whose waking Thoughts are wholly employ'd
on their sleeping ones. For the benefit therefore of this curious and
inquisitive Part of my Fellow-Subjects, I shall in the first place
tell those Persons what they dreamt of, who fancy they never dream at
all. In the next place, I shall make out any Dream, upon hearing a
single Circumstance of it; and in the last place, shall expound to
them the good or bad Fortune which such Dreams portend. If they do not
presage good luck, I shall deSir e nothing for my Pains; not
questioning at the same time that those who consult me will be so
reasonable as to afford me a moderate Share out of any considerable
Estate, Profit or Emolument which I shall thus discover to them. I
interpret to the Poor for nothing, on condition that their Names may
be inserted in Publick Advertisements, to attest the Truth of such my
Interpretations. As for People of Quality or others, who are
indisposed, and do not care to come in Person, I can interpret their
Dreams by seeing their Water. I set aside one Day in the Week for
Lovers; and interpret by the great for any Gentlewoman who is turned
of Sixty, after the rate of half a Crown per Week, with the usual
Allowances for good Luck. I have several Rooms and Apartments fitted
up, at reasonable rates, for such as have not Conveniences for
dreaming at their own Houses.
Titus Trophonius.
N. B. I am not dumb.
O.
Bedlam was then in Moorfields.
Contents
|
Friday, October 10, 1712 |
Budgell |
Candida perpetuo reside, concordia, lecto,
Tamque pari semper sit Venus æqua jugo.
Diligat illa, senem quondam: Sed et ipsa marito,
Tunc quoque cum fuerit, non videatur anus.
Mart.
translation
The following Essay is written by the Gentleman, to whom the World is
oblig'd for those several excellent Discourses which have been marked
with the Letter X.
I have somewhere met with a Fable that made
Wealth
the Father of
Love
. It is certain a Mind ought, at least, to be free from the
Apprehensions of Want and Poverty, before it can fully attend to all the
Softnesses and Endearments of this Passion. Notwithstanding we see
Multitudes of married People, who are utter Strangers to this delightful
Passion amidst all the Affluence of the most plentiful Fortunes.
It is not sufficient to make a Marriage happy, that the Humours of two
People should be alike; I could instance an hundred Pair, who have not
the least Sentiment of Love remaining for one another, yet are so like
in their Humours, that if they were not already married, the whole World
would design them for Man and Wife.
The Spirit of Love has something so extremely fine in it, that it is
very often disturbed and lost, by some little Accidents which the
Careless and Unpolite never attend to, till it is gone past Recovery.
Nothing has more contributed to banish it from a married State, than too
great a Familiarity, and laying aside the common Rules of Decency. Tho'
I could give Instances of this in several Particulars, I shall only
mention that of
Dress
. The Beaus and Belles about Town, who dress
purely to catch one another, think there is no further occasion for the
Bait, when their first Design has succeeded. But besides the too common
Fault in point of Neatness, there are several others which I do not
remember to have seen touched upon,
in one of our modern Comedies
, where a
French
Woman offering to undress and dress herself before
the Lover of the Play, and assuring his Mistress that it was very useful
in
France
, the Lady tells her that's a Secret in Dress she never knew
before, and that she was so unpolish'd an
English
Woman, as to resolve
never to learn even to dress before her Husband.
There is something so gross in the Carriage of some Wives, that they
lose their Husbands Hearts for Faults, which, if a Man has either
Good-Nature or Good-Breeding, he knows not how to tell them of. I am
afraid, indeed, the Ladies are generally most faulty in this Particular,
who, at their first giving into Love, find the Way so smooth and
pleasant, that they fancy 'tis scarce possible to be tired in it.
There is so much Nicety and Discretion requir'd to keep Love alive after
Marriage, and make Conversation still new and agreeable after twenty or
thirty years, that I know nothing which seems readily to promise it, but
an earnest endeavour to please on both sides, and superior good Sense on
the part of Man.
By a Man of Sense, I mean one acquainted with Business and Letters.
A Woman very much settles her Esteem for a Man, according to the Figure
he makes in the World, and the Character he bears among his own Sex. As
Learning is the chief Advantage we have over them, it is, methinks, as
scandalous and inexcusable for a Man of Fortune to be illiterate, as for
a Woman not to know how to behave her self on the most ordinary
Occasions. It is this which sets the two Sexes at the greatest Distance;
a Woman is vexed and surpriz'd, to find nothing more in the Conversation
of a Man, than in the common Tattle of her own Sex.
Some small Engagement at least in Business, not only sets a Man's
Talents in the fairest Light, and allots him a Part to act, in which a
Wife cannot well intermeddle; but gives frequent occasions for those
little Absences, which, whatever seeming Uneasiness they may give, are
some of the best Preservatives of Love and De
Sir
e.
Lætitia
is pretty, modest, tender, and has Sense enough; she married
Erastus
, who is in a Post of some Business, and has a general Taste in
most Parts of polite Learning.