, being a good Churchman, has beautified the Inside
of his Church with several Texts of his own chusing: He has likewise
given a handsome Pulpit-Cloth, and railed in the Communion-Table at his
own Expence.
has often told me, that at his coming to his Estate he
found
his Parishioners
very irregular; and that in order to make
them kneel and join in the Responses, he gave every one of them a
Hassock and a Common-prayer Book: and at the same time employed an
itinerant Singing-Master, who goes about the Country for that Purpose,
to instruct them rightly in the Tunes of the Psalms; upon which they now
very much value themselves, and indeed out-do most of the Country
Churches that I have ever heard.
As Sir
Roger
is Landlord to the whole Congregation, he keeps them in
very good Order, and will suffer no Body to sleep in it besides himself;
for if by chance he has been surprized into a short Nap at Sermon, upon
recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees
any Body else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his Servant
to them. Several other of the old Knight's Particularities break out
upon these Occasions: Sometimes he will be lengthening out a Verse in
the Singing-Psalms, half a Minute after the rest of the Congregation
have done with it; sometimes, when he is pleased with the Matter of his
Devotion, he pronounces
Amen
three or four times to the same Prayer;
and sometimes stands up when every Body else is upon their Knees, to
count the Congregation, or see if any of his Tenants are missing.
I was Yesterday very much surprised to hear my old Friend, in the Midst
of the Service, calling out to one
John Matthews
to mind what he was
about, and not disturb the Congregation. This
John Matthews
it seems
is remarkable for being an idle Fellow, and at that Time was kicking his
Heels for his Diversion. This Authority of the Knight, though exerted in
that odd Manner which accompanies him in all Circumstances of Life, has
a very good Effect upon the Parish, who are not polite enough to see any
thing ridiculous in his Behaviour; besides that the general good Sense
and Worthiness of his Character makes his Friends observe these little
Singularities as Foils that rather set off than blemish his good
Qualities.
As soon as the Sermon is finished, no Body presumes to stir till Sir
Roger
is gone out of the Church. The Knight walks down from his Seat in
the Chancel between a double Row of his Tenants, that stand bowing to
him on each Side; and every now and then enquires how such an one's
Wife, or Mother, or Son, or Father do, whom he does not see at Church;
which is understood as a secret Reprimand to the Person that is absent.
The Chaplain has often told me, that upon a Catechising-day, when Sir
Roger
has been pleased with a Boy that answers well, he has ordered a
Bible to be given him next Day for his Encouragement; and sometimes
accompanies it with a Flitch of Bacon to his Mother. Sir
Roger
has
likewise added five Pounds a Year to the Clerk's Place; and that he may
encourage the young Fellows to make themselves perfect in the
Church-Service, has promised upon the Death of the present Incumbent,
who is very old, to bestow it according to Merit.
The fair Understanding between Sir
Roger
and his Chaplain, and their
mutual Concurrence in doing Good, is the more remarkable, because the
very next Village is famous for the Differences and Contentions that
rise between the Parson and the 'Squire, who live in a perpetual State
of War. The Parson is always preaching at the 'Squire, and the 'Squire
to be revenged on the Parson never comes to Church. The 'Squire has made
all his Tenants Atheists and Tithe-Stealers; while the Parson instructs
them every
Sunday
in the Dignity of his Order, and insinuates to them
in almost every Sermon, that he is a better Man than his Patron. In
short, Matters are come to such an Extremity, that the 'Squire has not
said his Prayers either in publick or private this half Year; and that
the Parson threatens him, if he does not mend his Manners, to pray for
him in the Face of the whole Congregation.
Feuds of this Nature, though too frequent in the Country, are very fatal
to the ordinary People; who are so used to be dazled with Riches, that
they pay as much Deference to the Understanding of a Man of an Estate,
as of a Man of Learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any
Truth, how important soever it may be, that is preached to them, when
they know there are several Men of five hundred a Year who do not
believe it.
L.
had been
Dress
the Parish
Contents
|
Tuesday, July 10, 1711 |
Steele |
In my first Description of the Company in which I pass most of my Time,
it may be remembered that I mentioned a great Affliction which my Friend
Sir
Roger
had met with in his Youth; which was no less than a
Disappointment in Love. It happened this Evening, that we fell into a
very pleasing Walk at a Distance from his House: As soon as we came into
it,
'It is,
quoth the good Old Man, looking round him with a Smile, very
hard, that any Part of my Land should be settled upon one who has used
me so ill as the perverse Widow
1 did; and yet I am sure I could not
see a Sprig of any Bough of this whole Walk of Trees, but I should
reflect upon her and her Severity. She has certainly the finest Hand
of any Woman in the World. You are to know this was the Place wherein
I used to muse upon her; and by that Custom I can never come into it,
but the same tender Sentiments revive in my Mind, as if I had actually
walked with that Beautiful Creature under these Shades. I have been
Fool enough to carve her Name on the Bark of several of these Trees;
so unhappy is the Condition of Men in Love, to attempt the removing of
their Passion by the Methods which serve only to imprint it deeper.
She has certainly the finest Hand of any Woman in the World.'
Here followed a profound Silence; and I was not displeased to observe my
Friend falling so naturally into a Discourse, which I had ever before
taken Notice he industriously avoided. After a very long Pause he
entered upon an Account of this great Circumstance in his Life, with an
Air which I thought raised my Idea of him above what I had ever had
before; and gave me the Picture of that chearful Mind of his, before it
received that Stroke which has ever since affected his Words and
Actions. But he went on as follows.
'I came to my Estate in my Twenty Second Year, and resolved to follow
the Steps of the most Worthy of my Ancestors who have inhabited this
Spot of Earth before me, in all the Methods of Hospitality and good
Neighbourhood, for the sake of my Fame; and in Country Sports and
Recreations, for the sake of my Health. In my Twenty Third Year I was
obliged to serve as Sheriff of the County; and in my Servants,
Officers and whole Equipage, indulged the Pleasure of a young Man (who
did not think ill of his own Person) in taking that publick Occasion
of shewing my Figure and Behaviour to Advantage.
You may easily
imagine to yourself what Appearance I made, who am pretty tall,
rid2 well, and was very well dressed, at the Head of a whole County,
with Musick before me, a Feather in my Hat, and my Horse well Bitted.
I can assure you I was not a little pleased with the kind Looks and
Glances I had from all the Balconies and Windows as I rode to the Hall
where the Assizes were held. But when I came there, a Beautiful
Creature in a Widow's Habit sat in Court to hear the Event of a Cause
concerning her Dower. This commanding Creature (who was born for
Destruction of all who behold her) put on such a Resignation in her
Countenance, and bore the Whispers of all around the Court with such a
pretty Uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered her self from one
Eye to another, 'till she was perfectly confused by meeting something
so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a Murrain to
her, she cast her bewitching Eye upon me. I no sooner met it, but I
bowed like a great surprized Booby; and knowing her Cause to be the
first which came on, I cried, like a Captivated Calf as I was, Make
way for the Defendant's Witnesses. This sudden Partiality made all the
County immediately see the Sheriff also was become a Slave to the fine
Widow. During the Time her Cause was upon Tryal, she behaved herself,
I warrant you, with such a deep Attention to her Business, took
Opportunities to have little Billets handed to her Council, then would
be in such a pretty Confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting
before so much Company, that not only I but the whole Court was
prejudiced in her Favour; and all that the next Heir to her Husband
had to urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, that when it
came to her Council to reply, there was not half so much said as every
one besides in the Court thought he could have urged to her Advantage.
You must understand, Sir, this perverse Woman is one of those
unaccountable Creatures, that secretly rejoice in the Admiration of
Men, but indulge themselves in no further Consequences. Hence it is
that she has ever had a Train of Admirers, and she removes from her
Slaves in Town to those in the Country, according to the Seasons of
the Year. She is a reading Lady, and far gone in the Pleasures of
Friendship; She is always accompanied by a Confident, who is Witness
to her daily Protestations against our Sex, and consequently a Bar to
her first Steps towards Love, upon the Strength of her own Maxims and
Declarations.
However, I must needs say this accomplished Mistress of mine has
distinguished me above the rest, and has been known to declare Sir
Roger De Coverley was the Tamest and most Human of all the Brutes in
the Country. I was told she said so, by one who thought he rallied me;
but upon the Strength of this slender Encouragement, of being thought
least detestable, I made new Liveries, new paired my Coach-Horses,
sent them all to Town to be bitted, and taught to throw their Legs
well, and move all together, before I pretended to cross the Country
and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my Retinue suitable to the
Character of my Fortune and Youth, I set out from hence to make my
Addresses. The particular Skill of this Lady has ever been to inflame
your Wishes, and yet command Respect. To make her Mistress of this
Art, she has a greater Share of Knowledge, Wit, and good Sense, than
is usual even among Men of Merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the
Race of Women. If you won't let her go on with a certain Artifice with
her Eyes, and the Skill of Beauty, she will arm her self with her real
Charms, and strike you with Admiration instead of Desire. It is
certain that if you were to behold the whole Woman, there is that
Dignity in her Aspect, that Composure in her Motion, that Complacency
in her Manner, that if her Form makes you hope, her Merit makes you
fear. But then again, she is such a desperate Scholar, that no
Country-Gentleman can approach her without being a Jest. As I was
going to tell you, when I came to her House I was admitted to her
Presence with great Civility; at the same time she placed her self to
be first seen by me in such an Attitude, as I think you call the
Posture of a Picture, that she discovered new Charms, and I at last
came towards her with such an Awe as made me Speechless. This she no
sooner observed but she made her Advantage of it, and began a
Discourse to me concerning Love and Honour, as they both are followed
by Pretenders, and the real Votaries to them. When she
had discussed
these Points in a Discourse, which I verily believe was as learned as
the best Philosopher in
Europe could possibly make, she asked me
whether she was so happy as to fall in with my Sentiments on these
important Particulars. Her Confident sat by her, and upon my being in
the last Confusion and Silence, this malicious Aid of hers, turning to
her, says, I am very glad to observe Sir
Roger pauses upon this
Subject, and seems resolved to deliver all his Sentiments upon the
Matter when he pleases to speak. They both kept their Countenances,
and after I had sat half an Hour meditating how to behave before such
profound Casuists, I rose up and took my Leave. Chance has since that
time thrown me very often in her Way, and she as often has directed a
Discourse to me which I do not understand. This Barbarity has kept me
ever at a Distance from the most beautiful Object my Eyes ever beheld.
It is thus also she deals with all Mankind, and you must make Love to
her, as you would conquer the Sphinx, by posing her. But were she like
other Women, and that there were any talking to her, how constant must
the Pleasure of that Man be, who could converse with a Creature — But,
after all, you may be sure her Heart is fixed on some one or other;
and yet I have been credibly inform'd; but who can believe half that
is said! After she had done speaking to me, she put her Hand to her
Bosom, and adjusted her Tucker. Then she cast her Eyes a little down,
upon my beholding her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently:
her Voice in her ordinary Speech has something in it inexpressibly
sweet. You must know I dined with her at a publick Table the Day after
I first saw her, and she helped me to some Tansy in the Eye of all the
Gentlemen in the Country: She has certainly the finest Hand of any
Woman in the World. I can assure you, Sir, were you to behold her, you
would be in the same Condition; for as her Speech is Musick, her Form
is Angelick. But I find I grow irregular while I am talking of her;
but indeed it would be Stupidity to be unconcerned at such
Perfection. Oh the excellent Creature, she is as inimitable to all
Women, as she is inaccessible to all Men.'
I found my Friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him towards the
House, that we might be joined by some other Company; and am convinced
that the Widow is the secret Cause of all that Inconsistency which
appears in some Parts of my Friend's Discourse; tho' he has so much
Command of himself as not directly to mention her, yet according to that
of
Martial
, which one knows not how to render in
English, Dum facet
hanc loquitur
.
shall end this Paper with that whole Epigram
,
which represents with much Humour my honest Friend's Condition.
Quicquid agit Rufus nihil est nisi Nævia Rufo,
Si gaudet, si flet, si tacet, hanc loquitur:
Cœnat, propinat, poscit, negat, annuit, una est
Nævia; Si non sit Nævia mutus erit.
Scriberet hesterna Patri cum Luce Salutem,
Nævia lux, inquit, Nævia lumen, ave.
Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk,
Still he can nothing but of Nævia talk;
Let him eat, drink, ask Questions, or dispute,
Still he must speak of Nævia, or be mute.
He writ to his Father, ending with this Line,
I am, my Lovely Nævia, ever thine.
R.
Mrs Catherine Boevey, widow of William Boevey, Esq., who
was left a widow at the age of 22, and died in January, 1726, has one of
the three volumes of the
Lady's Library
dedicated to her by Steele in
terms that have been supposed to imply resemblance between her and the
'perverse widow;' as being both readers, &c. Mrs Boevey is said also to
have had a Confidant (Mary Pope) established in her household. But there
is time misspent in all these endeavours to reduce to tittle-tattle the
creations of a man of genius.
ride
Bk. I. Ep. 69.
Contents
|
Wednesday, July 11, 1711 |
Steele |
Œconomy in our Affairs has the same Effect upon our Fortunes which Good
Breeding has upon our Conversations. There is a pretending Behaviour in
both Cases, which, instead of making Men esteemed, renders them both
miserable and contemptible. We had Yesterday at
Sir Roger's
a Set of
Country Gentlemen who dined with him; and after Dinner the Glass was
taken, by those who pleased, pretty plentifully. Among others I observed
a Person of a tolerable good Aspect, who seemed to be more greedy of
Liquor than any of the Company, and yet, methought, he did not taste it
with Delight. As he grew warm, he was suspicious of every thing that was
said; and as he advanced towards being fudled, his Humour grew worse. At
the same time his Bitterness seem'd to be rather an inward
Dissatisfaction in his own Mind, than any Dislike he had taken at the
Company. Upon hearing his Name, I knew him to be a Gentle man of a
considerable Fortune in this County, but greatly in Debt. What gives the
unhappy Man this Peevishness of Spirit is, that his Estate is dipped,
and is eating out with Usury; and yet he has not the Heart to sell any
Part of it. His proud Stomach, at the Cost of restless Nights, constant
Inquietudes, Danger of Affronts, and a thousand nameless Inconveniences,
preserves this Canker in his Fortune, rather than it shall be said he is
a Man of fewer Hundreds a Year than he has been commonly reputed. Thus
he endures the Torment of Poverty, to avoid the Name of being less rich.
If you go to his House you see great Plenty; but served in a Manner that
shews it is all unnatural, and that the Master's Mind is not at home.
There is a certain Waste and Carelessness in the Air of every thing, and
the whole appears but a covered Indigence, a magnificent Poverty. That
Neatness and Chearfulness, which attends the Table of him who lives
within Compass, is wanting, and exchanged for a Libertine Way of Service
in all about him.
This Gentleman's Conduct, tho' a very common way of Management, is as
ridiculous as that Officer's would be, who had but few Men under his
Command, and should take the Charge of an Extent of Country rather than
of a small Pass. To pay for, personate, and keep in a Man's Hands, a
greater Estate than he really has, is of all others the most
unpardonable Vanity, and must in the End reduce the Man who is guilty of
it to Dishonour. Yet if we look round us in any County of
Great
Britain
, we shall see many in this fatal Error; if that may be called
by so soft a Name, which proceeds from a false Shame of appearing what
they really are, when the contrary Behaviour would in a short Time
advance them to the Condition which they pretend to.
Laertes
has
hundred Pounds a Year; which is mortgaged for six
thousand Pounds; but it is impossible to convince him that if he sold as
much as would pay off that Debt, he would save four Shillings in the
Pound
, which he gives for the Vanity of being the reputed Master of
it.
Yet
if
Laertes
did this, he would, perhaps, be easier in his
own Fortune; but then
Irus
, a Fellow of Yesterday, who has but twelve
hundred a Year, would be his Equal. Rather than this shall be,
Laertes
goes on to bring well-born Beggars into the World, and every Twelvemonth
charges, his Estate with at least one Year's Rent more by the Birth of a
Child.
Laertes
and
Irus
are Neighbours, whose Way of living are an
Abomination to each other.
Irus
is moved by the Fear of Poverty, and
Laertes
by the Shame of it. Though the Motive of Action is of so near
Affinity in both, and may be resolved into this, 'That to each of them
Poverty is the greatest of all Evils,' yet are their Manners very widely
different. Shame of Poverty makes
Laertes
launch into unnecessary
Equipage, vain Expense, and lavish Entertainments; Fear of Poverty makes
Irus
allow himself only plain Necessaries, appear without a Servant,
sell his own Corn, attend his Labourers, and be himself a Labourer.
Shame of Poverty makes
Laertes
go every Day a step nearer to it; and
Fear of Poverty stirs up
Irus
to make every Day some further Progress
from it.
These different Motives produce the Excesses of which Men are guilty of
in the Negligence of and Provision for themselves. Usury, Stock-jobbing,
Extortion and Oppression, have their Seed in the Dread of Want; and
Vanity, Riot and Prodigality, from the Shame of it: But both these
Excesses are infinitely below the Pursuit of a reasonable Creature.
After we have taken Care to command so much as is necessary for
maintaining our selves in the Order of Men suitable to our Character,
the Care of Superfluities is a Vice no less extravagant, than the
Neglect of Necessaries would have been before.
it is that they are both out of Nature when she is followed with
Reason and good Sense. It is from this Reflection that I always read Mr.
Cowley
with the greatest Pleasure: His Magnanimity is as much above
that of other considerable Men as his Understanding; and it is a true
distinguishing Spirit in the elegant Author who published his Works
,
to dwell so much upon the Temper of his Mind and the Moderation of his
Desires: By this means he has render'd his Friend as amiable as famous.
That State of Life which bears the Face of Poverty with Mr.
Cowley's
great Vulgar
, is admirably described; and it is no small Satisfaction
to those of the same Turn of Desire, that he produces the Authority of
the wisest Men of the best Age of the World, to strengthen his Opinion
of the ordinary Pursuits of Mankind.
It would methinks be no ill Maxim of Life, if according to that Ancestor
of Sir
Roger
, whom I lately mentioned, every Man would point to himself
what Sum he would resolve not to exceed. He might by this means cheat
himself into a Tranquility on this Side of that Expectation, or convert
what he should get above it to nobler Uses than his own Pleasures or
Necessities. This Temper of Mind would exempt a Man from an ignorant
Envy of restless Men above him, and a more inexcusable Contempt of happy
Men below him. This would be sailing by some Compass, living with some
Design; but to be eternally bewildered in Prospects of Future Gain, and
putting on unnecessary Armour against improbable Blows of Fortune, is a
Mechanick Being which has not good Sense for its Direction, but is
carried on by a sort of acquired Instinct towards things below our
Consideration and unworthy our Esteem. It is possible that the
Tranquility I now enjoy at Sir
Roger's
may have created in me this Way
of Thinking, which is so abstracted from the common Relish of the World:
But as I am now in a pleasing Arbour surrounded with a beautiful
Landskip, I find no Inclination so strong as to continue in these
Mansions, so remote from the ostentatious Scenes of Life; and am at this
present Writing Philosopher enough to conclude with Mr.
Cowley
;
If e'er Ambition did my Fancy cheat,
With any Wish so mean as to be Great;
Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove
The humble Blessings of that Life I love.4
The Land Tax.
But
Dr. Thomas Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, in his
Life of
Cowley
prefixed to an edition of the Poet's works. The temper of Cowley
here referred to is especially shown in his Essays, as in the opening
one
Of Liberty
, and in that
Of Greatness,
which is followed by the
paraphrase from Horace's
Odes
, Bk. III. Od. i, beginning with the
expression above quoted:
Hence, ye profane; I hate ye all;
Both the Great Vulgar and the Small.
From the Essay
Of Greatness.
Contents
|
Thursday, July 12, 1711 |
Addison |
Bodily Labour is of two Kinds, either that which a Man submits to for
his Livelihood, or that which he undergoes for his Pleasure. The latter
of them generally changes the Name of Labour for that of Exercise, but
differs only from ordinary Labour as it rises from another Motive.
A Country Life abounds in both these kinds of Labour, and for that
Reason gives a Man a greater Stock of Health, and consequently a more
perfect Enjoyment of himself, than any other Way of Life. I consider the
Body as a System of Tubes and Glands, or to use a more Rustick Phrase, a
Bundle of Pipes and Strainers, fitted to one another after so wonderful
a Manner as to make a proper Engine for the Soul to work with. This
Description does not only comprehend the Bowels, Bones, Tendons, Veins,
Nerves and Arteries, but every Muscle and every Ligature, which is a
Composition of Fibres, that are so many imperceptible Tubes or Pipes
interwoven on all sides with invisible Glands or Strainers.
This general Idea of a Human Body, without considering it in its
Niceties of Anatomy, lets us see how absolutely necessary Labour is for
the right Preservation of it. There must be frequent Motions and
Agitations, to mix, digest, and separate the Juices contained in it, as
well as to clear and cleanse that Infinitude of Pipes and Strainers of
which it is composed, and to give their solid Parts a more firm and
lasting Tone. Labour or Exercise ferments the Humours, casts them into
their proper Channels, throws off Redundancies, and helps Nature in
those secret Distributions, without which the Body cannot subsist in its
Vigour, nor the Soul act with Chearfulness.
I might here mention the Effects which this has upon all the Faculties
of the Mind, by keeping the Understanding clear, the Imagination
untroubled, and refining those Spirits that are necessary for the proper
Exertion of our intellectual Faculties, during the present Laws of Union
between Soul and Body. It is to a Neglect in this Particular that we
must ascribe the Spleen, which is so frequent in Men of studious and
sedentary Tempers, as well as the Vapours to which those of the other
Sex are so often subject.
not Exercise been absolutely necessary for our Well-being, Nature
would not have made the Body so proper for it, by giving such an
Activity to the Limbs, and such a Pliancy to every Part as necessarily
produce those Compressions, Extentions, Contortions, Dilatations, and
all other kinds of
Motions