There is a famous Passage in the
Alcoran
, which looks as if
Mahomet
had been possessed of the Notion we are now speaking of.
is there
said
, That the Angel
Gabriel
took
Mahomet
Out of his Bed one
Morning to give him a Sight of all things in the Seven Heavens, in
Paradise, and in Hell, which the Prophet took a distinct View of; and
after having held ninety thousand Conferences with God, was brought back
again to his Bed. All this, says the
Alcoran
, was transacted in
so small a space of Time, that
Mahomet
at his Return found his
Bed still warm, and took up an Earthen Pitcher, (which was thrown down
at the very Instant that the Angel
Gabriel
carried him away)
before the Water was all spilt.
There is a very pretty Story in the
Turkish
Tales which relates
to this Passage of that famous Impostor, and bears some Affinity to the
Subject we are now upon. A Sultan of
Egypt
, who was an Infidel,
used to laugh at this Circumstance in
Mahomet's
Life, as what was
altogether impossible and absurd: But conversing one Day with a great
Doctor in the Law, who had the Gift of working Miracles, the Doctor told
him he would quickly convince him of the Truth of this Passage in the
History of Mahomet, if he would consent to do what he should desire of
him. Upon this the Sultan was directed to place himself by an huge Tub
of Water, which he did accordingly; and as he stood by the Tub amidst a
Circle of his great Men, the holy Man bid him plunge his Head into the
Water, and draw it up again: The King accordingly thrust his Head into
the Water, and at the same time found himself at the Foot of a Mountain
on a Sea-shore. The King immediately began to rage against his Doctor
for this Piece of Treachery and Witchcraft; but at length, knowing it
was in vain to be angry, he set himself to think on proper Methods for
getting a Livelihood in this strange Country: Accordingly he applied
himself to some People whom he saw at work in a Neighbouring Wood: these
People conducted him to a Town that stood at a little Distance from the
Wood, where, after some Adventures, he married a Woman of great Beauty
and Fortune. He lived with this Woman so long till he had by her seven
Sons and seven Daughters: He was afterwards reduced to great Want, and
forced to think of plying in the Streets as a Porter for his Livelihood.
One Day as he was walking alone by the Sea-side, being seized with many
melancholy Reflections upon his former and his present State of Life,
which had raised a Fit of Devotion in him, he threw off his Clothes with
a Design to wash himself, according to the Custom of the
Mahometans
, before he said his Prayers.
After his first Plunge into the Sea, he no sooner raised his Head above
the Water but he found himself standing by the Side of the Tub, with the
great Men of his Court about him, and the holy Man at his Side. He
immediately upbraided his Teacher for having sent him on such a Course
of Adventures, and betrayed him into so long a State of Misery and
Servitude; but was wonderfully surprised when he heard that the State he
talked of was only a Dream and Delusion; that he had not stirred from
the Place where he then stood; and that he had only dipped his Head into
the Water, and immediately taken it out again.
The
Mahometan
Doctor took this Occasion of instructing the
Sultan, that nothing was impossible with God; and that
He
, with
whom a Thousand Years are but as one Day, can, if he pleases, make a
single Day, nay a single Moment, appear to any of his Creatures as a
Thousand Years.
I shall leave my Reader to compare these Eastern Fables with the Notions
of those two great Philosophers whom I have quoted in this Paper; and
shall only, by way of Application, desire him to consider how we may
extend Life beyond its natural Dimensions, by applying our selves
diligently to the Pursuits of Knowledge.
The Hours of a wise Man are lengthened by his Ideas, as those of a Fool
are by his Passions: The Time of the one is long, because he does not
know what to do with it; so is that of the other, because he
distinguishes every Moment of it with useful or amusing Thought; or in
other Words, because the one is always wishing it away, and the other
always enjoying it.
How different is the View of past Life, in the Man who is grown old in
Knowledge and Wisdom, from that of him who is grown old in Ignorance and
Folly? The latter is like the Owner of a barren Country that fills his
Eye with the Prospect of naked Hills and Plains, which produce nothing
either profitable or ornamental; the other beholds a beautiful and
spacious Landskip divided into delightful Gardens, green Meadows,
fruitful Fields, and can scarce cast his Eye on a single Spot of his
Possessions, that is not covered with some beautiful Plant or Flower.
L.
Not of himself, but in
The Usefulness of Natural
Philosophy
(
Works
, ed. 1772, vol. ii. p. 11), Boyle quotes from the old
Alchemist, Basil Valentine, who said in his
Currus Triumphalis
Antimonii
'That the shortness of life makes it impossible for one man thoroughly
to learn Antimony, in which every day something of new is
discovered.'
Essay on the Human Understanding
, Bk II. ch. 14.
Two English Translations of Malebranche's
Search after
Truth
were published in 1694, one by T. Taylor of Magdalen College,
Oxford. Malebranche sets out with the argument that man has no innate
perception of Duration.
The Night Journey of Mahomet gives its Title to the 17th
Sura of the
Koran
, which assumes the believer's knowledge of the Visions
of Gabriel seen at the outset of the prophet's career, when he was
carried by night from Mecca to Jerusalem and thence through the seven
heavens to the throne of God on the back of Borak, accompanied by
Gabriel according to some traditions, and according to some in a vision.
Details of the origin of this story will be found in Muir, ii. 219,
Nöld, p. 102. Addison took it from the
Turkish Tales.
Contents
|
Tuesday, June 19, 1711 |
Steele |
Having read the two following Letters with much Pleasure, I cannot but
think the good Sense of them will be as agreeable to the Town as any
thing I could say either on the Topicks they treat of, or any other.
They both allude to former Papers of mine, and I do not question but the
first, which is upon inward Mourning, will be thought the Production of
a Man who is well acquainted with the generous Earnings of Distress in a
manly Temper, which is above the Relief of Tears. A Speculation of my
own on that Subject I shall defer till another Occasion.
The second Letter is from a Lady of a Mind as great as her
Understanding. There is perhaps something in the Beginning of it which I
ought in Modesty to conceal; but I have so much Esteem for this
Correspondent, that I will not alter a Tittle of what she writes, tho' I
am thus scrupulous at the Price of being Ridiculous.
Mr.
Spectator,
'I was very well pleased with your Discourse upon General Mourning,
and should be obliged to you if you would enter into the Matter more
deeply, and give us your Thoughts upon the common Sense the ordinary
People have of the Demonstrations of Grief, who prescribe Rules and
Fashions to the most solemn Affliction; such as the Loss of the
nearest Relations and dearest Friends. You cannot go to visit a sick
Friend, but some impertinent Waiter about him observes the Muscles of
your Face, as strictly as if they were Prognosticks of his Death or
Recovery. If he happens to be taken from you, you are immediately
surrounded with Numbers of these Spectators, who expect a melancholy
Shrug of your Shoulders, a Pathetical shake of your Head, and an
Expressive Distortion of your Face, to measure your Affection and
Value for the Deceased: But there is nothing, on these Occasions, so
much in their Favour as immoderate Weeping. As all their passions are
superficial, they imagine the Seat of Love and Friendship to be placed
visibly in the Eyes: They judge what Stock of Kindness you had for the
Living, by the Quantity of Tears you pour out for the Dead; so that if
one Body wants that Quantity of Salt-water another abounds with, he is
in great Danger of being thought insensible or ill-natured: They are
Strangers to Friendship, whose Grief happens not to be moist enough to
wet such a Parcel of Handkerchiefs. But Experience has told us,
nothing is so fallacious as this outward Sign of Sorrow; and the
natural History of our Bodies will teach us that this Flux of the
Eyes, this Faculty of Weeping, is peculiar only to some Constitutions.
We observe in the tender Bodies of Children, when crossed in their
little Wills and Expectations, how dissolvable they are into Tears. If
this were what Grief is in Men, Nature would not be able to support
them in the Excess of it for one Moment. Add to this Observation, how
quick is their Transition from this Passion to that of their Joy. I
won't say we see often, in the next tender Things to Children, Tears
shed without much Grieving. Thus it is common to shed Tears without
much Sorrow, and as common to suffer much Sorrow without shedding
Tears. Grief and Weeping are indeed frequent Companions, but, I
believe, never in their highest Excesses. As Laughter does not proceed
from profound Joy, so neither does Weeping from profound Sorrow. The
Sorrow which appears so easily at the Eyes, cannot have pierced deeply
into the Heart. The Heart distended with Grief, stops all the Passages
for Tears or Lamentations.
'Now, Sir, what I would incline you to in all this, is, that you would
inform the shallow Criticks and Observers upon Sorrow, that true
Affliction labours to be invisible, that it is a Stranger to Ceremony,
and that it bears in its own Nature a Dignity much above the little
Circumstances which are affected under the Notion of Decency. You must
know, Sir, I have lately lost a dear Friend, for whom I have not yet
shed a Tear, and for that Reason your Animadversions on that Subject
would be the more acceptable to',
Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
B.D.
June
the 15
th.
Mr.
Spectator,
'As I hope there are but few who have so little Gratitude as not to
acknowledge the Usefulness of your Pen, and to esteem it a Publick
Benefit; so I am sensible, be that as it will, you must nevertheless
find the Secret and Incomparable Pleasure of doing Good, and be a
great Sharer in the Entertainment you give. I acknowledge our Sex to
be much obliged, and I hope improved, by your Labours, and even your
Intentions more particularly for our Service. If it be true, as 'tis
sometimes said, that our Sex have an Influence on the other, your
Paper may be a yet more general Good. Your directing us to Reading is
certainly the best Means to our Instruction; but I think, with you,
Caution in that Particular very useful, since the Improvement of our
Understandings may, or may not, be of Service to us, according as it
is managed. It has been thought we are not generally so Ignorant as
Ill-taught, or that our Sex does so often want Wit, Judgment, or
Knowledge, as the right Application of them: You are so well-bred, as
to say your fair Readers are already deeper Scholars than the Beaus,
and that you could name some of them that talk much better than
several Gentlemen that make a Figure at
Will's: This may
possibly be, and no great Compliment, in my Opinion, even supposing
your Comparison to reach
Tom's and the
Grecian: Surely
you are too wise to think That a Real Commendation of a Woman. Were it
not rather to be wished we improved in our own Sphere, and approved
our selves better Daughters, Wives, Mothers, and Friends?
I can't but agree with the Judicious Trader in
Cheapside
(though I am not at all prejudiced in his Favour) in recommending the
Study of Arithmetick; and must dissent even from the Authority which
you mention, when it advises the making our Sex Scholars. Indeed a
little more Philosophy, in order to the Subduing our Passions to our
Reason, might be sometimes serviceable, and a Treatise of that Nature
I should approve of, even in exchange for
Theodosius, or
The
Force of Love; but as I well know you want not Hints, I will
proceed no further than to recommend the Bishop of
Cambray's
Education of a Daughter, as 'tis translated into the only Language I
have any Knowledge of
2, tho' perhaps very much to its Disadvantage.
I have heard it objected against that Piece, that its Instructions are
not of general Use, but only fitted for a great Lady; but I confess I
am not of that Opinion; for I don't remember that there are any Rules
laid down for the Expences of a Woman, in which Particular only I
think a Gentlewoman ought to differ from a Lady of the best Fortune,
or highest Quality, and not in their Principles of Justice, Gratitude,
Sincerity, Prudence, or Modesty. I ought perhaps to make an Apology
for this long Epistle; but as I rather believe you a Friend to
Sincerity, than Ceremony, shall only assure you I am,
Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
Annabella.
T.
Seneca. Citation omitted also in the early reprints.
Fenelon was then living. He died in 1715, aged 63.
Contents
|
Wednesday, June 20, 1711 |
Steele |
... Amicum
Mancipium domino, et frugi ...
Hor.
translation
Mr.
Spectator,
I have frequently read your Discourse upon Servants, and, as I am one
my self, have been much offended that in that Variety of Forms wherein
you considered the Bad, you found no Place to mention the Good. There
is however one Observation of yours I approve, which is, That there
are Men of Wit and good Sense among all Orders of Men; and that
Servants report most of the Good or Ill which is spoken of their
Masters. That there are Men of Sense who live in Servitude, I have the
Vanity to say I have felt to my woful Experience. You attribute very
justly the Source of our general Iniquity to Board-Wages, and the
Manner of living out of a domestick Way: But I cannot give you my
Thoughts on this Subject any way so well, as by a short account of my
own Life to this the Forty fifth Year of my Age; that is to say, from
my being first a Foot-boy at Fourteen, to my present Station of a
Nobleman's Porter in the Year of my Age above-mentioned. Know then,
that my Father was a poor Tenant to the Family of Sir
Stephen
Rackrent: Sir
Stephen put me to School, or rather made me
follow his Son
Harry to School, from my Ninth Year; and there,
tho' Sir
Stephen paid something for my Learning, I was used
like a Servant, and was forced to get what Scraps of Learning I could
by my own Industry, for the Schoolmaster took very little Notice of
me. My young Master was a Lad of very sprightly Parts; and my being
constantly about him, and loving him, was no small Advantage to me. My
Master loved me extreamly, and has often been whipped for not keeping
me at a Distance. He used always to say, That when he came to his
Estate I should have a Lease of my Father's Tenement for nothing. I
came up to Town with him to
Westminster School; at which time
he taught me at Night all he learnt; and put me to find out Words in
the Dictionary when he was about his Exercise. It was the Will of
Providence that Master
Harry was taken very ill of a Fever, of
which he died within Ten Days after his first falling sick. Here was
the first Sorrow I ever knew; and I assure you, Mr.
Spectator, I
remember the beautiful Action of the sweet Youth in his Fever, as
fresh as if it were Yesterday. If he wanted any thing, it must be
given him by
Tom: When I let any thing fall through the Grief I
was under, he would cry, Do not beat the poor Boy: Give him some more
Julep for me, no Body else shall give it me. He would strive to hide
his being so bad, when he saw I could not bear his being in so much
Danger, and comforted me, saying,
Tom, Tom, have a good Heart.
When I was holding a Cup at his Mouth, he fell into Convulsions; and
at this very Time I hear my dear Master's last Groan. I was quickly
turned out of the Room, and left to sob and beat my Head against the
Wall at my Leisure. The Grief I was in was inexpressible; and every
Body thought it would have cost me my Life. In a few Days my old Lady,
who was one of the Housewives of the World, thought of turning me out
of Doors, because I put her in mind of her Son. Sir
Stephen
proposed putting me to Prentice; but my Lady being an excellent
Manager, would not let her Husband throw away his Money in Acts of
Charity. I had sense enough to be under the utmost Indignation, to see
her discard with so little Concern, one her Son had loved so much; and
went out of the House to ramble wherever my Feet would carry me.
The third Day after I left Sir
Stephen's Family, I was
strolling up and down the Walks in the
Temple. A young
Gentleman of the House, who (as I heard him say afterwards) seeing me
half-starved and well-dressed, thought me an Equipage ready to his
Hand, after very little Inquiry more than
Did I want a Master?,
bid me follow him; I did so, and in a very little while thought myself
the happiest Creature in this World. My Time was taken up in carrying
Letters to Wenches, or Messages to young Ladies of my Master's
Acquaintance.
We rambled from Tavern to Tavern, to the Play-house, the
Mulberry-Garden
1, and all places of Resort; where my Master engaged
every Night in some new Amour, in which and Drinking he spent all his
Time when he had Money. During these Extravagancies I had the Pleasure
of lying on the Stairs of a Tavern half a Night, playing at Dice with
other Servants, and the like Idleness. When my Master was moneyless,
I was generally employ'd in transcribing amorous Pieces of Poetry, old
Songs, and new Lampoons. This Life held till my Master married, and he
had then the Prudence to turn me off, because I was in the Secret of
his Intreagues.
I was utterly at a loss what Course to take next; when at last I
applied my self to a Fellow-sufferer, one of his Mistresses, a Woman
of the Town. She happening at that time to be pretty full of Money,
cloathed me from Head to Foot, and knowing me to be a sharp Fellow,
employed me accordingly. Sometimes I was to go abroad with her, and
when she had pitched upon a young Fellow she thought for her Turn, I
was to be dropped as one she could not trust.
She would often cheapen
Goods at the
New Exchange2 and when she had a mind to be
attacked, she would send me away on an Errand. When an humble Servant
and she were beginning a Parley, I came immediately, and told her Sir
John was come home; then she would order another Coach to
prevent being dogged. The Lover makes Signs to me as I get behind the
Coach, I shake my Head it was impossible: I leave my Lady at the next
Turning, and follow the Cully to know how to fall in his Way on
another Occasion. Besides good Offices of this Nature, I writ all my
Mistress's Love-Letters; some from a Lady that saw such a Gentleman at
such a Place in such a coloured Coat, some shewing the Terrour she was
in of a jealous old Husband, others explaining that the Severity of
her Parents was such (tho' her Fortune was settled) that she was
willing to run away with such a one, tho' she knew he was but a
younger Brother. In a Word, my half Education and Love of idle Books,
made me outwrite all that made Love to her by way of Epistle; and as
she was extremely cunning, she did well enough in Company by a skilful
Affectation of the greatest Modesty. In the midst of all this I was
surprised with a Letter from her and a Ten Pound Note.
Honest Tom,
You will never see me more. I am married to a very cunning Country
Gentleman, who might possibly guess something if I kept you still;
therefore farewell.
When this Place was lost also in Marriage, I was resolved to go among
quite another People, for the future; and got in Butler to one of
those Families where there is a Coach kept, three or four Servants, a
clean House, and a good general Outside upon a small Estate. Here I
lived very comfortably for some Time,'till I unfortunately found my
Master, the very gravest Man alive, in the Garret with the
Chambermaid. I knew the World too well to think of staying there; and
the next Day pretended to have received a Letter out of the Country
that my Father was dying, and got my Discharge with a Bounty for my
Discretion.
The next I lived with was a peevish single man, whom I stayed with for
a Year and a Half. Most part of the Time I passed very easily; for
when I began to know him, I minded no more than he meant what he said;
so that one Day in a good Humour he said
I was the best man he ever
had, by my want of respect to him.
These, Sir, are the chief Occurrences of my Life; and I will not dwell
upon very many other Places I have been in, where I have been the
strangest Fellow in the World, where no Body in the World had such
Servants as they, where sure they were the unluckiest People in the
World in Servants; and so forth. All I mean by this Representation,
is, to shew you that we poor Servants are not (what you called us too
generally) all Rogues; but that we are what we are, according to the
Example of our Superiors. In the Family I am now in, I am guilty of no
one Sin but Lying; which I do with a grave Face in my Gown and Staff
every Day I live, and almost all Day long, in denying my Lord to
impertinent Suitors, and my Lady to unwelcome Visitants. But, Sir, I
am to let you know that I am, when I get abroad, a Leader of the
Servants: I am he that keep Time with beating my Cudgel against the
Boards in the Gallery at an Opera; I am he that am touched so properly
at a Tragedy, when the People of Quality are staring at one another
during the most important Incidents: When you hear in a Crowd a Cry in
the right Place, an Humm where the Point is touched in a Speech, or an
Hussa set up where it is the Voice of the People; you may conclude it
is begun or joined by,
T.
Sir,
Your more than Humble Servant,
Thomas Trusty
A place of open-air entertainment near Buckingham House.
Sir Charles Sedley named one of his plays after it.
In the Strand, between Durham Yard and York Buildings; in
the
Spectator's
time the fashionable mart for milliners. It was
taken down in 1737.
Contents
|
Thursday, June 21, 1711 |
Steele |
Among the loose Papers which I have frequently spoken of heretofore, I
find a Conversation between
Pharamond
and
Eucrate
upon the
Subject of Duels, and the Copy of an Edict issued in Consequence of that
Discourse.
Eucrate
argued, that nothing but the most severe and vindictive
Punishments, such as placing the Bodies of the Offenders in Chains, and
putting them to Death by the most exquisite Torments, would be
sufficient to extirpate a Crime which had so long prevailed and was so
firmly fixed in the Opinion of the World as great and laudable; but the
King answered, That indeed Instances of Ignominy were necessary in the
Cure of this Evil; but considering that it prevailed only among such as
had a Nicety in their Sense of Honour, and that it often happened that a
Duel was fought to save Appearances to the World, when both Parties were
in their Hearts in Amity and Reconciliation to each other; it was
evident that turning the Mode another way would effectually put a Stop
to what had Being only as a Mode. That to such Persons, Poverty and
Shame were Torments sufficient, That he would not go further in
punishing in others Crimes which he was satisfied he himself was most
Guilty of, in that he might have prevented them by speaking his
Displeasure sooner. Besides which the King said, he was in general
averse to Tortures, which was putting Human Nature it self, rather than
the Criminal, to Disgrace; and that he would be sure not to use this
Means where the Crime was but an ill Effect arising from a laudable
Cause, the Fear of Shame. The King, at the same time, spoke with much
Grace upon the Subject of Mercy; and repented of many Acts of that kind
which had a magnificent Aspect in the doing, but dreadful Consequences
in the Example. Mercy to Particulars, he observed, was Cruelty in the
General: That though a Prince could not revive a Dead Man by taking the
Life of him who killed him, neither could he make Reparation to the next
that should die by the evil Example; or answer to himself for the
Partiality, in not pardoning the next as well as the former Offender.
'As for me, says Pharamond, I have conquer'd France, and yet have
given Laws to my People: The Laws are my Methods of Life; they are not
a Diminution but a Direction to my Power. I am still absolute to
distinguish the Innocent and the Virtuous, to give Honours to the
Brave and Generous: I am absolute in my Good-will: none can oppose my
Bounty, or prescribe Rules for my Favour. While I can, as I please,
reward the Good, I am under no Pain that I cannot pardon the Wicked:
For which Reason, continued Pharamond, I will effectually put a stop
to this Evil, by exposing no more the Tenderness of my Nature to the
Importunity of having the same Respect to those who are miserable by
their Fault, and those who are so by their Misfortune. Flatterers
(concluded the King smiling) repeat to us Princes, that we are
Heaven's Vice-regents; Let us be so, and let the only thing out of our
Power be to do Ill.'
Soon after the Evening wherein
Pharamond
and
Eucrate
had this
Conversation, the following Edict was Published.
'
Pharamond's Edict against Duels.
Pharamond,
King of the Gauls,
to all his loving Subjects
sendeth Greeting.
Whereas it has come to our Royal Notice and Observation, that in
contempt of all Laws Divine and Human, it is of late become a Custom
among the Nobility and Gentry of this our Kingdom, upon slight and
trivial, as well as great and urgent Provocations, to invite each
other into the Field, there by their own Hands, and of their own
Authority, to decide their Controversies by Combat; We have thought
fit to take the said Custom into our Royal Consideration, and find,
upon Enquiry into the usual Causes whereon such fatal Decisions have
arisen, that by this wicked Custom, maugre all the Precepts of our
Holy Religion, and the Rules of right Reason, the greatest Act of the
human Mind,
Forgiveness of Injuries, is become vile and
shameful; that the Rules of Good Society and Virtuous Conversation are
hereby inverted; that the Loose, the Vain, and the Impudent, insult
the Careful, the Discreet, and the Modest; that all Virtue is
suppressed, and all Vice supported, in the one Act of being capable to
dare to the Death. We have also further, with great Sorrow of Mind,
observed that this Dreadful Action, by long Impunity, (our Royal
Attention being employed upon Matters of more general Concern) is
become Honourable, and the Refusal to engage in it Ignominious. In
these our Royal Cares and Enquiries We are yet farther made to
understand, that the Persons of most Eminent Worth, and most hopeful
Abilities, accompanied with the strongest Passion for true Glory, are
such as are most liable to be involved in the Dangers arising from
this Licence. Now taking the said Premises into our serious
Consideration, and well weighing that all such Emergencies (wherein
the Mind is incapable of commanding it self, and where the Injury is
too sudden or too exquisite to be born) are particularly provided for
by Laws heretofore enacted; and that the Qualities of less Injuries,
like those of Ingratitude, are too nice and delicate to come under
General Rules; We do resolve to blot this Fashion, or Wantonness of
Anger, out of the Minds of Our Subjects, by Our Royal Resolutions
declared in this Edict, as follow.
No Person who either Sends or Accepts a Challenge, or the Posterity of
either, tho' no Death ensues thereupon, shall be, after the
Publication of this our Edict, capable of bearing Office in these our
Dominions.
The Person who shall prove the sending or receiving a Challenge, shall
receive to his own Use and Property, the whole Personal Estate of both
Parties: and their Real Estate shall be immediately vested in the next
Heir of the Offenders in as ample Manner as if the said Offenders were
actually Deceased.
In Cases where the Laws (which we have already granted to our
Subjects) admit of an Appeal for Blood; when the Criminal is condemned
by the said Appeal, He shall not only suffer Death, but his whole
Estate, Real, Mixed, and Personal, shall from the Hour of his Death be
vested in the next Heir of the Person whose Blood he spilt.
That it shall not hereafter be in our Royal Power, or that of our
Successors, to pardon the said Offences, or restore
the Offenders1
in their Estates, Honour, or Blood for ever.
Given at our Court at Blois,
the 8th of February, 420.
In the Second Year of our Reign.
T.
them
Contents
|
Friday, June 22, 1711 |
Addison |
There is not so variable a thing in Nature as a Lady's Head-dress:
Within my own Memory I have known it rise and fall above thirty Degrees.
ten Years ago it shot up to a very great Height