Oxford
, and as it abounds with the Spirit of Mirth and good
Humour, which is natural to that Place, I shall set it down Word for
Word as it came to me.
'
Most Profound Sir,
Having been very well entertained, in the last of your Speculations
that I have yet seen, by your Specimen upon Clubs, which I therefore
hope you will continue, I shall take the Liberty to furnish you with a
brief Account of such a one as perhaps you have not seen in all your
Travels, unless it was your Fortune to touch upon some of the woody
Parts of the
African Continent, in your Voyage to or from
Grand Cairo. There have arose in this University (long since
you left us without saying any thing) several of these inferior
Hebdomadal Societies, as
the Punning Club,
the Witty
Club, and amongst the rest, the
Handsom Club; as a
Burlesque upon which, a certain merry Species, that seem to have come
into the World in Masquerade, for some Years last past have associated
themselves together, and assumed the name of the
Ugly Club:
This ill-favoured Fraternity consists of a President and twelve
Fellows; the Choice of which is not confin'd by Patent to any
particular Foundation (as
St. John's Men would have the World
believe, and have therefore erected a separate Society within
themselves) but Liberty is left to elect from any School in
Great
Britain, provided the Candidates be within the Rules of the Club,
as set forth in a Table entituled
The Act of Deformity. A
Clause or two of which I shall transmit to you.
- That no Person whatsoever shall be admitted without a visible
Quearity in his Aspect, or peculiar Cast of Countenance; of which the
President and Officers for the time being are to determine, and the
President to have the casting Voice.
- That a singular Regard be had, upon Examination, to the Gibbosity
of the Gentlemen that offer themselves, as Founders Kinsmen, or to the
Obliquity of their Figure, in what sort soever.
- That if the Quantity of any Man's Nose be eminently
miscalculated, whether as to Length or Breadth, he shall have a just
Pretence to be elected.
'
Lastly, That if there shall be two or more Competitors for the
same Vacancy,
cæteris paribus, he that has the thickest Skin to
have the Preference.
Every fresh Member, upon his first Night, is to entertain the Company
with a Dish of Codfish, and a Speech in praise of
Æsop2; whose
portraiture they have in full Proportion, or rather Disproportion,
over the Chimney; and their Design is, as soon as their Funds are
sufficient, to purchase the Heads of
Thersites, Duns Scotus, Scarron,
Hudibras, and the old Gentleman in
Oldham3, with all the
celebrated ill Faces of Antiquity, as Furniture for the Club Room.
As they have always been profess'd Admirers of the other Sex, so they
unanimously declare that they will give all possible Encouragement to
such as will take the Benefit of the Statute, tho' none yet have
appeared to do it.
The worthy President, who is their most devoted Champion, has lately
shown me two Copies of Verses composed by a Gentleman of his Society;
the first, a Congratulatory Ode inscrib'd to Mrs.
Touchwood, upon
the loss of her two Fore-teeth; the other, a Panegyrick upon Mrs.
Andirons left Shoulder. Mrs.
Vizard (he says) since the Small Pox,
is grown tolerably ugly, and a top Toast in the Club; but I never hear
him so lavish of his fine things, as upon old
Nell Trot, who
constantly officiates at their Table; her he even adores, and extolls
as the very Counterpart of Mother
Shipton; in short,
Nell (says
he) is one of the Extraordinary Works of Nature; but as for
Complexion, Shape, and Features, so valued by others, they are all
meer Outside and Symmetry, which is his Aversion. Give me leave to
add, that the President is a facetious, pleasant Gentleman, and never
more so, than when he has got (as he calls 'em) his dear Mummers about
him; and he often protests it does him good to meet a Fellow with a
right genuine Grimmace in his Air, (which is so agreeable in the
generality of the
French Nation;) and as an Instance of his
Sincerity in this particular, he gave me a sight of a List in his
Pocket-book of all of this Class, who for these five Years have fallen
under his Observation, with himself at the Head of 'em, and in the
Rear (as one of a promising and improving Aspect),
Sir, Your Obliged and Humble Servant,
Alexander Carbuncle.
[Sidenote: Oxford, March 12, 1710.]
R.
Abbé Paul Scarron, the burlesque writer, high in court
favour, was deformed from birth, and at the age of 27 lost the use of
all his limbs. In 1651, when 41 years old, Scarron married Frances
d'Aubigné, afterwards Madame de Maintenon; her age was then 16, and she
lived with Scarron until his death, which occurred when she was 25 years
old and left her very poor. Scarron's comparison of himself to the
letter Z is in his address 'To the Reader who has Never seen Me,'
prefixed to his
Relation Véritable de tout ce qui s'est passé en
l'autre Monde, au combat des Parques et des Poëtes, sur la Mort de
Voiture.
This was illustrated with a burlesque plate representing
himself as seen from the back of his chair, and surrounded by a
wondering and mocking world. His back, he said, was turned to the
public, because the convex of his back is more convenient than the
concave of his stomach for receiving the inscription of his name and
age.
The Life of Æsop
, ascribed to Planudes Maximus, a monk of
Constantinople in the fourteenth century, and usually prefixed to the
Fables, says that he was
'the most deformed of all men of his age, for
he had a pointed head, flat nostrils, a short neck, thick lips, was
black, pot-bellied, bow-legged, and hump-backed; perhaps even uglier
than Homer's Thersites.'
The description of Thersites in the second book of the
Iliad is thus translated by Professor Blackie:
The most
Ill-favoured wight was he, I ween, of all the Grecian host.
With hideous squint the railer leered: on one foot he was lame;
Forward before his narrow chest his hunching shoulders came;
Slanting and sharp his forehead rose, with shreds of meagre hair.
Controversies between the Scotists and Thomists, followers of the
teaching of Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas, caused Thomist perversion of
the name of Duns into its use as Dunce and tradition of the subtle
Doctor's extreme personal ugliness. Doctor Subtilis was translated The
Lath Doctor.
Scarron we have just spoken of. Hudibras's outward gifts are described
in Part I., Canto i., lines 240-296 of the poem.
His beard
In cut and dye so like a tile
A sudden view it would beguile:
The upper part thereof was whey;
The nether, orange mix'd with grey.
This hairy meteor, &c.
The 'old Gentleman in
Oldham
' is Loyola, as described in Oldham's
third satire on the Jesuits, when
Summon'd together, all th' officious band
The orders of their bedrid, chief attend.
Raised on his pillow he greets them, and, says Oldham,
Like Delphic Hag of old, by Fiend possest,
He swells, wild Frenzy heaves his panting breast,
His bristling hairs stick up, his eyeballs glow,
And from his mouth long strakes of drivel flow.
Contents
|
Wednesday, March 21, 1711 |
Addison |
Equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas
Omnis ad incertos oculos et gaudia vana.
Hor.
is my Design in this Paper to deliver down to Posterity a faithful
Account of the Italian Opera, and of the gradual Progress which it has
made upon the English Stage: For there is no Question but our great
Grand-children will be very curious to know the Reason why their
Fore-fathers used to sit together like an Audience of Foreigners in
their own Country, and to hear whole Plays acted before them in a Tongue
which they did not understand.
Arsinoe
was the first Opera that gave us a Taste of Italian
Musick.
great Success this Opera met with, produced some Attempts of
forming Pieces upon Italian Plans,
which
should give a more
natural and reasonable Entertainment than what can be met with in the
elaborate Trifles of that Nation.
alarm'd the Poetasters and
Fidlers of the Town, who were used to deal in a more ordinary Kind of
Ware; and therefore laid down an establish'd Rule, which is receiv'd as
such to this
Day
,
That nothing is capable of being well set to
Musick, that is not Nonsense.
Maxim was no sooner receiv'd, but we immediately fell to
translating the Italian Operas; and as there was no great Danger of
hurting the Sense of those extraordinary Pieces, our Authors would often
make Words of their own
which
were entirely foreign to the Meaning
of the Passages
they
pretended to translate; their chief Care
being to make the Numbers of the English Verse answer to those of the
Italian, that both of them might go to the same Tune. Thus the famous
Song in
Camilla
,
Barbara si t' intendo, &c.
Barbarous Woman, yes, I know your Meaning,
which expresses the Resentments of an angry Lover, was translated into
that English lamentation:
Frail are a Lovers Hopes, &c.
And it was pleasant enough to see the most refined Persons of the
British Nation dying away and languishing to Notes that were filled with
a Spirit of Rage and Indignation.
happen'd also very frequently,
where the Sense was rightly translated, the necessary Transposition of
Words
which
were drawn out of the Phrase of one Tongue into that
of another, made the Musick appear very absurd in one Tongue that was
very natural in the other. I remember an Italian verse that ran thus
Word for Word,
And turned my Rage, into Pity;
which the English for Rhime sake translated,
And into Pity turn'd my Rage.
By this Means the soft Notes that were adapted to Pity in the Italian,
fell upon the word Rage in the English; and the angry Sounds that were
turn'd to Rage in the Original, were made to express Pity in the
Translation.
oftentimes happen'd likewise, that the finest Notes in
the Air fell upon the most insignificant Words in the Sentence. I have
known the Word
And
pursu'd through the whole Gamut, have been
entertained with many a melodious
The
, and have heard the most
beautiful Graces Quavers and Divisions bestowed upon
Then, For,
and
From;
to the eternal Honour of our English Particles
.
The next Step to our Refinement, was the introducing of Italian Actors
into our Opera; who sung their Parts in their own Language, at the same
Time that our Countrymen perform'd theirs in our native Tongue. The King
or Hero of the Play generally spoke in Italian, and his Slaves answered
him in English: The Lover frequently made his Court, and gained the
Heart of his Princess in a Language which she did not understand. One
would have thought it very difficult to have carry'd on Dialogues after
this Manner, without an Interpreter between the Persons that convers'd
together; but this was the State of the English Stage for about three
Years.
At length the Audience grew tir'd of understanding Half the Opera, and
therefore to ease themselves Entirely of the Fatigue of Thinking, have
so order'd it at Present that the whole Opera is performed in an unknown
Tongue.
no longer understand the Language of our own Stage; insomuch
that I have often been afraid, when I have seen our Italian Performers
chattering in the Vehemence of Action, that they have been calling us
Names, and abusing us among themselves; but I hope, since we do put such
an entire Confidence in them, they will not talk against us before our
Faces, though they may do it with the same Safety as if it
were
`
behind our Backs. In the mean Time I cannot forbear thinking how
naturally an Historian, who writes Two or Three hundred Years hence, and
does not know the Taste of his wise Fore-fathers, will make the
following Reflection,
In the Beginning of the Eighteenth Century, the
Italian Tongue was so well understood in England, that Operas
were acted on the publick Stage in that Language.
One scarce knows how to be serious in the Confutation of an Absurdity
that shews itself at the first Sight. It does not want any great Measure
of Sense to see the Ridicule of this monstrous Practice; but what makes
it the more astonishing, it is not the Taste of the Rabble, but of
Persons of the greatest Politeness, which has establish'd it.
If the Italians have a Genius for Musick above the English, the English
have a Genius for other Performances of a much higher Nature, and
capable of giving the Mind a much nobler Entertainment.
one think
it was possible (at a Time when an Author lived that was able to write
the
Phædra
and
Hippolitus
for a People to be so
stupidly fond of the Italian Opera, as scarce to give a Third Days
Hearing to that admirable Tragedy? Musick is certainly a very agreeable
Entertainment, but if it would take the entire Possession of our Ears,
if it would make us incapable of hearing Sense, if it would exclude Arts
that have a much greater Tendency to the Refinement of humane Nature: I
must confess I would allow it no better Quarter than
Plato
has
done, who banishes it out of his Common-wealth.
At present, our Notions of Musick are so very uncertain, that we do not
know what it is we like, only, in general, we are transported with any
thing that is not English: so if it be of a foreign Growth, let it be
Italian, French, or High-Dutch, it is the same thing. In short, our
English Musick is quite rooted out, and nothing yet planted in its
stead.
When a Royal Palace is burnt to the Ground, every Man is at Liberty to
present his Plan for a new one; and tho' it be but indifferently put
together, it may furnish several Hints that may be of Use to a good
Architect. I shall take the same Liberty in a following Paper, of giving
my Opinion upon the Subject of Musick, which I shall lay down only in a
problematical Manner to be considered by those who are Masters in the
Art.
C.
Arsinoe
was produced at Drury Lane in 1705, with Mrs.
Tofts in the chief character, and her Italian rival, Margarita de
l'Epine, singing Italian songs before and after the Opera. The drama was
an Italian opera translated into English, and set to new music by Thomas
Clayton, formerly band master to William III.
and other numbers from time to time advertised
The Passion of Sappho,
and Feast of Alexander: Set to Musick by Mr. Thomas Clayton, as it is
performed at his house in York Buildings.
It was the same Clayton who
set to music Addison's unsuccessful opera of
Rosamond
, written as an
experiment in substituting homegrown literature for the fashionable
nonsense illustrated by Italian music. Thomas Clayton's music to
Rosamond
was described as 'a jargon of sounds.'
Camilla
, composed by
Marco Antonio Buononcini, and said to contain beautiful music, was
produced at Sir John Vanbrugh's Haymarket opera in 1705, and sung half
in English, half in Italian; Mrs. Tofts singing the part of the
Amazonian heroine in English, and Valentini that of the hero in Italian.
that
very day
that
which they
that
It was fifty years after this that Churchill wrote of
Mossop in the
Rosciad
,
In monosyllables his thunders roll,
He, she, it, and, we, ye, they, fright the soul.
was
The Tragedy of
Phædra and Hippolitus
, acted without
success in 1707, was the one play written by Mr. Edmund Smith, a
merchant's son who had been educated at Westminster School and Christ
Church, Oxford, and who had ended a dissolute life at the age of 42 (in
1710), very shortly before this paper was written. Addison's regard for
the play is warmed by friendship for the unhappy writer. He had, indeed,
written the
Prologue
to it, and struck therein also his note of war
against the follies of Italian Opera.
Had Valentini, musically coy,
Shunned Phædra's Arms, and scorn'd the puffer'd Joy,
It had not moved your Wonder to have seen
An Eunich fly from an enamour'd Queen;
How would it please, should she in English speak,
And could Hippolitus reply in Greek!
The
Epilogue
to this play was by Prior. Edmund Smith's relation to
Addison is shown by the fact that, in dedicating the printed edition of
his
Phædra
and
Hippolitus
to Lord Halifax, he speaks of Addison's lines
on the
Peace of Ryswick
as 'the best Latin Poem since the
Æneid
.'
Contents
|
Thursday, March 22, 1711 |
Steele |
Dii benefecerunt, inopis me quodque pusilli
Finxerunt animi, rarî et perpauca loquentis.
Hor.
Observing one Person behold another, who was an utter Stranger to him,
with a Cast of his Eye which, methought, expressed an Emotion of Heart
very different from what could be raised by an Object so agreeable as
the Gentleman he looked at, I began to consider, not without some secret
Sorrow, the Condition of an Envious Man. Some have fancied that Envy has
a certain Magical Force in it, and that the Eyes of the Envious have by
their Fascination blasted the Enjoyments of the Happy.
Francis
Bacon
says
, Some have been so curious as to remark the Times and
Seasons when the Stroke of an Envious Eye is most effectually
pernicious, and have observed that it has been when the Person envied
has been in any Circumstance of Glory and Triumph. At such a time the
Mind of the Prosperous Man goes, as it were, abroad, among things
without him, and is more exposed to the Malignity. But I shall not dwell
upon Speculations so abstracted as this, or repeat the many excellent
Things which one might collect out of Authors upon this miserable
Affection; but keeping in the road of common Life, consider the Envious
Man with relation to these three Heads, His Pains, His Reliefs, and His
Happiness.
The Envious Man is in Pain upon all Occasions which ought to give him
Pleasure. The Relish of his Life is inverted, and the Objects which
administer the highest Satisfaction to those who are exempt from this
Passion, give the quickest Pangs to Persons who are subject to it. All
the Perfections of their Fellow-Creatures are odious: Youth, Beauty,
Valour and Wisdom are Provocations of their Displeasure. What a Wretched
and Apostate State is this! To be offended with Excellence, and to hate
a Man because we Approve him! The Condition of the Envious Man is the
most Emphatically miserable; he is not only incapable of rejoicing in
another's Merit or Success, but lives in a World wherein all Mankind are
in a Plot against his Quiet, by studying their own Happiness and
Advantage.
Will. Prosper
is an honest Tale-bearer, he makes it
his business to join in Conversation with Envious Men. He points to such
an handsom Young Fellow, and whispers that he is secretly married to a
Great Fortune: When they doubt, he adds Circumstances to prove it; and
never fails to aggravate their Distress, by assuring 'em that to his
knowledge he has an Uncle will leave him some Thousands.
Will.
has many Arts of this kind to torture this sort of Temper, and delights
in it. When he finds them change colour, and say faintly They wish such
a Piece of News is true, he has the Malice to speak some good or other
of every Man of their Acquaintance.
The Reliefs of the Envious Man are those little Blemishes and
Imperfections, that discover themselves in an Illustrious Character. It
is matter of great Consolation to an Envious Person, when a Man of Known
Honour does a thing Unworthy himself: Or when any Action which was well
executed, upon better Information appears so alter'd in its
Circumstances, that the Fame of it is divided among many, instead of
being attributed to One. This is a secret Satisfaction to these
Malignants; for the Person whom they before could not but admire, they
fancy is nearer their own Condition as soon as his Merit is shared among
others. I remember some Years ago there came out an Excellent Poem,
without the Name of the Author. The little Wits, who were incapable of
Writing it, began to pull in Pieces the supposed Writer. When that would
not do, they took great Pains to suppress the Opinion that it was his.
That again failed. The next Refuge was to say it was overlook'd by one
Man, and many Pages wholly written by another. An honest Fellow, who
sate among a Cluster of them in debate on this Subject, cryed out,
Gentlemen, if you are sure none of you yourselves had an hand in it,
you are but where you were, whoever writ it.
But the most usual Succour
to the Envious, in cases of nameless Merit in this kind, is to keep the
Property, if possible, unfixed, and by that means to hinder the
Reputation of it from falling upon any particular Person. You see an
Envious Man clear up his Countenance, if in the Relation of any Man's
Great Happiness in one Point, you mention his Uneasiness in another.
When he hears such a one is very rich he turns Pale, but recovers when
you add that he has many Children. In a Word, the only sure Way to an
Envious Man's Favour, is not to deserve it.
But if we consider the Envious Man in Delight, it is like reading the
Seat of a Giant in a Romance; the Magnificence of his House consists in
the many Limbs of Men whom he has slain. If any who promised themselves
Success in any Uncommon Undertaking miscarry in the Attempt, or he that
aimed at what would have been Useful and Laudable, meets with Contempt
and Derision, the Envious Man, under the Colour of hating Vainglory, can
smile with an inward Wantonness of Heart at the ill Effect it may have
upon an honest Ambition for the future.
Having throughly considered the Nature of this Passion, I have made it
my Study how to avoid the Envy that may acrue to me from these my
Speculations; and if I am not mistaken in my self, I think I have a
Genius to escape it.
hearing in a Coffee-house one of my Papers
commended, I immediately apprehended the Envy that would spring from
that Applause; and therefore gave a Description of my Face the next Day
; being resolved as I grow in Reputation for Wit, to resign my
Pretensions to Beauty. This, I hope, may give some Ease to those unhappy
Gentlemen, who do me the Honour to torment themselves upon the Account
of this my Paper. As their Case is very deplorable, and deserves
Compassion, I shall sometimes be dull, in Pity to them, and will from
time to time administer Consolations to them by further Discoveries of
my Person. In the meanwhile, if any one says the
Spectator
has Wit, it
may be some Relief to them, to think that he does not show it in
Company. And if any one praises his Morality they may comfort themselves
by considering that his Face is none of the longest.
R.
We see likewise, the Scripture calleth Envy an Evil Eye: And the
Astrologers call the evil influences of the stars, Evil Aspects; so
that still there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the act of envy, an
ejaculation or irradiation of the eye. Nay some have been so curious
as to note that the times when the stroke or percussion of an envious
eye doth most hurt, are, when the party envied is beheld in glory or
triumph; for that sets an edge upon Envy; And besides, at such times,
the spirits of the persons envied do come forth most into the outward
parts, and so meet the blow.
Bacon's Essays: IX Of Envy
.