I should have told my Reader, that this
Indian
had been formerly
married to one of the greatest Beauties of his Country, by whom he had
several Children. This Couple were so famous for their Love and
Constancy to one another, that the
Indians
to this Day, when they give
a married Man Joy of his Wife, wish that they may live together like
Marraton
and
Yaratilda
.
Marraton
had not stood long by the
Fisherman when he saw the Shadow of his beloved
Yaratilda
, who had for
some time fixed her Eye upon him, before he discovered her. Her Arms
were stretched out towards him, Floods of Tears ran down her Eyes; her
Looks, her Hands, her Voice called him over to her; and at the same time
seemed to tell him that the River was impassable. Who can describe the
Passion made up of Joy, Sorrow, Love, Desire, Astonishment, that rose in
the Indian upon the Sight of his dear
Yaratilda
? He could express it
by nothing but his Tears, which ran like a River down his Cheeks as he
looked upon her. He had not stood in this Posture long, before he
plunged into the Stream that lay before him; and finding it to be
nothing but the Phantom of a River, walked on the Bottom of it till he
arose on the other Side. At his Approach
Yaratilda
flew into his Arms,
whilst
Marraton
wished himself disencumbered of that Body which kept
her from his Embraces. After many Questions and Endearments on both
Sides, she conducted him to a Bower which she had dressed with her own
Hands with all the Ornaments that could be met with in those blooming
Regions. She had made it gay beyond Imagination, and was every day
adding something new to it. As
Marraton
stood astonished at the
unspeakable Beauty of her Habitation, and ravished with the Fragrancy
that came from every Part of it,
Yaratilda
told him that she was
preparing this Bower for his Reception, as well knowing that his Piety
to his God, and his faithful Dealing towards Men, would certainly bring
him to that happy Place whenever his Life should be at an End. She then
brought two of her Children to him, who died some Years before, and
resided with her in the same delightful Bower, advising him to breed up
those others which were still with him in such a Manner, that they might
hereafter all of them meet together in this happy Place.
Tradition tells us further, that he had afterwards a Sight of those
dismal Habitations which are the Portion of ill Men after Death; and
mentions several Molten Seas of Gold, in which were plunged the Souls of
barbarous
Europeans
,
who
put to the Sword so many Thousands of
poor
Indians
for the sake of that precious Metal: But having already
touched upon the chief Points of this Tradition, and exceeded the
Measure of my Paper, I shall not give any further Account of it.
C.
Albertus Magnus, a learned Dominican who resigned, for love
of study, his bishopric of Ratisbon, died at Cologne in 1280. In alchemy
a distinction was made between stone and spirit, as between body and
soul, substance and accident. The evaporable parts were called, in
alchemy, spirit and soul and accident.
See
described
an
that
Contents
Contents p.3
|
Saturday, May 5, 1711 |
Addison |
Quem præstare potest mulier galeata pudorem,
Quæ fugit à Sexu!
Juv.
the Wife of
Hector
, in
Homer's Iliads
, discourses
with her Husband about the Battel in which he was going to engage, the
Hero, desiring her to leave that Matter to his Care, bids her go to her
Maids and mind her Spinning
: by which the Poet intimates, that Men
and Women ought to busy themselves in their proper Spheres, and on such
Matters only as are suitable to their respective Sex.
I am at this time acquainted with a young Gentleman, who has passed a
great Part of his Life in the Nursery, and, upon Occasion, can make a
Caudle or a Sack-Posset better than any Man in
England
. He is
likewise a wonderful Critick in Cambrick and Muslins, and will talk an
Hour together upon a Sweet-meat. He entertains his Mother every Night
with Observations that he makes both in Town and Court: As what Lady
shews the nicest Fancy in her Dress; what Man of Quality wears the
fairest Whig; who has the finest Linnen, who the prettiest Snuff-box,
with many other the like curious Remarks that may be made in good
Company.
On the other hand I have very frequently the Opportunity of seeing a
Rural
Andromache
, who came up to Town last Winter, and is one of
the greatest Fox-hunters in the Country. She talks of Hounds and Horses,
and makes nothing of leaping over a Six-bar Gate. If a Man tells her a
waggish Story, she gives him a Push with her Hand in jest, and calls him
an impudent Dog; and if her Servant neglects his Business, threatens to
kick him out of the House. I have heard her, in her Wrath, call a
Substantial Trades-man a Lousy Cur; and remember one Day, when she could
not think of the Name of a Person, she described him in a large Company
of Men and Ladies, by the Fellow with the Broad Shoulders.
If those Speeches and Actions, which in their own Nature are
indifferent, appear ridiculous when they proceed from a wrong Sex, the
Faults and Imperfections of one Sex transplanted into another, appear
black and monstrous. As for the Men, I shall not in this Paper any
further concern my self about them: but as I would fain contribute to
make Womankind, which is the most beautiful Part of the Creation,
entirely amiable, and wear out all those little Spots and Blemishes that
are apt to rise among the Charms which Nature has poured out upon them,
I shall dedicate this Paper to their Service. The Spot which I would
here endeavour to clear them of, is that Party-Rage which of late Years
is very much crept into their Conversation. This is, in its Nature, a
Male Vice, and made up of many angry and cruel Passions that are
altogether repugnant to the Softness, the Modesty, and those other
endearing Qualities which are natural to the Fair Sex. Women were formed
to temper Mankind, and sooth them into Tenderness and Compassion, not to
set an Edge upon their Minds, and blow up in them those Passions which
are too apt to rise of their own Accord. When I have seen a pretty Mouth
uttering Calumnies and Invectives, what would not I have given to have
stopt it? How have I been troubled to see some of the finest Features in
the World grow pale, and tremble with Party-Rage?
Camilla
is one of
the greatest Beauties in the
British
Nation, and yet values her self
more upon being the
Virago
of one Party, than upon being the Toast of
both. The Dear Creature, about a Week ago, encountered the fierce and
beautiful
Penthesilea
across a Tea-Table; but in the Height of her
Anger, as her Hand chanced to shake with the Earnestness of the Dispute,
she scalded her Fingers, and spilt a Dish of Tea upon her Petticoat. Had
not this Accident broke off the Debate, no Body knows where it would
have ended.
There is one Consideration which I would earnestly recommend to all my
Female Readers, and which, I hope, will have some weight with them. In
short, it is this, that there is nothing so bad for the Face as
Party-Zeal. It gives an ill-natured Cast to the Eye, and a disagreeable
Sourness to the Look; besides, that it makes the Lines too strong, and
flushes them worse than Brandy. I have seen a Woman's Face break out in
Heats, as she has been talking against a great Lord, whom she had never
seen in her Life; and indeed never knew a Party-Woman that kept her
Beauty for a Twelvemonth. I would therefore advise all my Female
Readers, as they value their Complexions, to let alone all Disputes of
this Nature; though, at the same time, I would give free Liberty to all
superannuated motherly Partizans to be as violent as they please, since
there will be no Danger either of their spoiling their Faces, or of
their gaining Converts.
For my own
, I think a Man makes an odious and despicable
Figure, that is violent in a Party: but a Woman is too sincere to
mitigate the Fury of her Principles with Temper and Discretion, and to
act with that Caution and Reservedness which are requisite in our Sex.
this unnatural Zeal gets into them, it throws them into ten
thousand Heats and Extravagancies; their generous
Souls
set no
Bounds to their Love or to their Hatred; and whether a Whig or Tory, a
Lap-Dog or a Gallant, an Opera or a Puppet-Show, be the Object of it,
the Passion, while it reigns, engrosses the whole Woman.
remember when Dr.
Titus Oates
was in all his Glory, I
accompanied my Friend
Will.
Honeycomb
in a Visit to a Lady of his
Acquaintance: We were no sooner sat down, but upon casting my Eyes about
the Room, I found in almost every Corner of it a Print that represented
the Doctor in all Magnitudes and Dimensions. A little after, as the Lady
was discoursing my Friend, and held her Snuff-box in her Hand, who
should I see in the Lid of it but the Doctor. It was not long after
this, when she had Occasion for her Handkerchief, which upon the first
opening discovered among the Plaits of it the Figure of the Doctor. Upon
this my Friend
Will
., who loves Raillery, told her, That if he was in
Mr.
Truelove's
Place (for that was the Name for her Husband) she
should be made as uneasy by a Handkerchief as ever
Othello
was.
I am
afraid,
said she,
Mr.
Honeycomb
,
5 you are a Tory; tell me truly,
are you a Friend to the Doctor or not? Will
., instead of making her a
Reply, smiled in her Face (for indeed she was very pretty) and told her
that one of her Patches was dropping off. She immediately adjusted it,
and looking a little seriously,
Well
, says she,
I'll be hang'd if
you and your silent Friend there are not against the Doctor in your
Hearts, I suspected as much by his saying nothing
. Upon this she took
her Fan into her Hand, and upon the opening of it again displayed to us
the Figure of the Doctor, who was placed with great Gravity among the
Sticks of it. In a word, I found that the Doctor had taken Possession of
her Thoughts, her Discourse, and most of her Furniture; but finding my
self pressed too close by her Question, I winked upon my Friend to take
his Leave, which he did accordingly.
C.
Hector's parting from Andromache, at the close of Book VI:
No more — but hasten to thy tasks at home,
There guide the spindle, and direct the loom;
Me glory summons to the martial scene,
The field of combat is the sphere for men.
Not a new paragraph in the first issue.
"Souls (I mean those of ordinary Women).: This, however, was
cancelled by an Erratum in the next number.
Addison was six years old when Titus Oates began his
'Popish Plot' disclosures. Under a name which called up recollections of
the vilest trading upon theological intolerance, he here glances at Dr.
Henry Sacheverell, whose trial (Feb. 27-March 20, 1710) for his sermons
in praise of the divine right of kings and contempt of the Whigs, and
his sentence of suspension for three years, had caused him to be admired
enthusiastically by all party politicians who were of his own way of
thinking. The change of person pleasantly puts 'Tory' for 'Whig,' and
avoids party heat by implying a suggestion that excesses are not all on
one side. Sacheverell had been a College friend of Addison's. He is the
'dearest Harry' for whom, at the age of 22, Addison wrote his metrical
'Account of the greatest English Poets' which omitted Shakespeare from
the list.
Honycombe
Contents
Contents p.3
|
Monday, May 7, 1711 |
Addison |
Ut pictura poesis erit ...
Hor.
Nothing is so much admired, and so little understood, as Wit. No Author
that I know of has written professedly upon it; and as for those who
make any Mention of it, they only treat on the Subject as it has
accidentally fallen in their Way, and that too in little short
Reflections, or in general declamatory Flourishes, without entering into
the Bottom of the Matter. I hope therefore I shall perform an acceptable
Work to my Countrymen, if I treat at large upon this Subject; which I
shall endeavour to do in a Manner suitable to it, that I may not incur
the Censure which a famous Critick bestows upon one who had written a
Treatise upon
the Sublime
in a low groveling Stile. I intend to
lay aside a whole Week for this Undertaking, that the Scheme of my
Thoughts may not be broken and interrupted; and I dare promise my self,
if my Readers will give me a Week's Attention, that this great City will
be very much changed for the better by next
Saturday
Night. I
shall endeavour to make what I say intelligible to ordinary Capacities;
but if my Readers meet with any Paper that in some Parts of it may be a
little out of their Reach, I would not have them discouraged, for they
may assure themselves the next shall be much clearer.
As the great and only End of these my Speculations is to banish Vice and
Ignorance out of the Territories of
Great-Britain
, I shall
endeavour as much as possible to establish among us a Taste of polite
Writing. It is with this View that I have endeavoured to set my Readers
right in several Points relating to Operas and Tragedies; and shall from
time to time impart my Notions of Comedy, as I think they may tend to
its Refinement and Perfection. I find by my Bookseller that these Papers
of Criticism, with that upon Humour, have met with a more kind Reception
than indeed I could have hoped for from such Subjects; for which Reason
I shall enter upon my present Undertaking with greater Chearfulness.
In this, and one or two following Papers, I shall trace out the History
of false Wit, and distinguish the several Kinds of it as they have
prevailed in different Ages of the World. This I think the more
necessary at present, because I observed there were Attempts on foot
last Winter to revive some of those antiquated Modes of Wit that have
been long exploded out of the Commonwealth of Letters. There were
several Satyrs and Panegyricks handed about in Acrostick, by which Means
some of the most arrant undisputed Blockheads about the Town began to
entertain ambitious Thoughts, and to set up for polite Authors. I shall
therefore describe at length those many Arts of false Wit, in which a
Writer does not show himself a Man of a beautiful Genius, but of great
Industry.
The first Species of false Wit which I have met with is very venerable
for its Antiquity, and has produced several Pieces which have lived very
near as long as the
Iliad
it self: I mean those short Poems
printed among the minor
Greek
Poets, which resemble the Figure of
an Egg, a Pair of Wings, an Ax, a Shepherd's Pipe, and an Altar.
As
the first, it is a little oval Poem, and may not improperly
be called a Scholar's Egg. I would endeavour to hatch it, or, in more
intelligible Language, to translate it into
English
, did not I
find the Interpretation of it very difficult; for the Author seems to
have been more intent upon the Figure of his Poem, than upon the Sense
of it.
The Pair of Wings consist of twelve Verses, or rather Feathers, every
Verse decreasing gradually in its Measure according to its Situation in
the Wing. The subject of it (as in the rest of the Poems which follow)
bears some remote Affinity with the Figure, for it describes a God of
Love, who is always painted with Wings.
The Ax methinks would have been a good Figure for a Lampoon, had the
Edge of it consisted of the most satyrical Parts of the Work; but as it
is in the Original, I take it to have been nothing else but the Posy of
an Ax which was consecrated to
Minerva
, and was thought to have
been the same that
Epeus
made use of in the building of the
Trojan
Horse; which is a Hint I shall leave to the Consideration
of the Criticks. I am apt to think that the Posy was written originally
upon the Ax, like those which our modern Cutlers inscribe upon their
Knives; and that therefore the Posy still remains in its ancient Shape,
tho' the Ax it self is lost.
Shepherd's Pipe may be said to be full of Musick, for it is composed
of nine different Kinds of Verses, which by their several Lengths
resemble the nine Stops of the old musical Instrument,
that
is
likewise the Subject of the Poem
.
The Altar is inscribed with the Epitaph of
Troilus
the Son of
Hecuba
; which, by the way, makes me believe, that these false Pieces
of Wit are much more ancient than the Authors to whom they are generally
ascribed; at least I will never be perswaded, that so fine a Writer as
Theocritus
could have been the Author of any such simple Works.
It was impossible for a Man to succeed in these Performances who was not
a kind of Painter, or at least a Designer: He was first of all to draw
the Out-line of the Subject which he intended to write upon, and
afterwards conform the Description to the Figure of his Subject. The
Poetry was to contract or dilate itself according to the Mould in which
it was cast. In a word, the Verses were to be cramped or extended to the
Dimensions of the Frame that was prepared for them; and to undergo the
Fate of those Persons whom the Tyrant
Procrustes
used to lodge in his
Iron Bed; if they were too short, he stretched them on a Rack, and if
they were too long, chopped off a Part of their Legs, till they fitted
the Couch which he had prepared for them.
Mr.
Dryden
hints at this obsolete kind of Wit in one of the following
Verses,
in his Mac Flecno
; which an
English
Reader cannot
understand, who does not know that there are those little Poems
abovementioned in the Shape of Wings and Altars.
... Chuse for thy Command
Some peaceful Province in Acrostick Land;
There may'st thou Wings display, and Altars raise,
And torture one poor Word a thousand Ways.
Fashion of false Wit was revived by several Poets of the last Age,
and in particular may be met with among
Mr. Herbert's
Poems; and,
if I am not mistaken, in the Translation of
Du Bartas
.
— I do not
remember any other kind of Work among the Moderns which more resembles
the Performances I have mentioned, than that famous Picture of King
Charles
the First, which has the whole Book of
Psalms
written in the Lines of the Face and the Hair of the Head. When I was
last at
Oxford
I perused one of the Whiskers; and was reading the
other, but could not go so far in it as I would have done, by reason of
the Impatience of my Friends and Fellow-Travellers, who all of them
pressed to see such a Piece of Curiosity. I have since heard, that there
is now an eminent Writing-Master in Town, who has transcribed all the
Old Testament
in a full-bottomed Periwig; and if the Fashion
should introduce the thick kind of Wigs which were in Vogue some few
Years ago, he promises to add two or three supernumerary Locks that
shall contain all the
Apocrypha
. He designed this Wig originally
for King
William
, having disposed of the two Books of
Kings
in the two Forks of the Foretop; but that glorious Monarch
dying before the Wig was finished, there is a Space left in it for the
Face of any one that has a mind to purchase it.
But to return to our ancient Poems in Picture, I would humbly propose,
for the Benefit of our modern Smatterers in Poetry, that they would
imitate their Brethren among the Ancients in those ingenious Devices. I
have communicated this Thought to a young Poetical Lover of my
Acquaintance, who intends to present his Mistress with a Copy of Verses
made in the Shape of her Fan; and, if he tells me true, has already
finished the three first Sticks of it. He has likewise promised me to
get the Measure of his Mistress's Marriage-Finger, with a Design to make
a Posy in the Fashion of a Ring, which shall exactly fit it. It is so
very easy to enlarge upon a good Hint, that I do not question but my
ingenious Readers will apply what I have said to many other Particulars;
and that we shall see the Town filled in a very little time with
Poetical Tippets, Handkerchiefs, Snuff-Boxes, and the like Female
Ornaments.
shall therefore conclude with a Word of Advice to those
admirable
English
Authors who call themselves Pindarick Writers
,
that they would apply themselves to this kind of Wit without Loss of
Time, as being provided better than any other Poets with Verses of all
Sizes and Dimensions.
C.
Not a new paragraph in the first issue.
which
The
Syrinx
of Theocritus consists of twenty verses, so
arranged that the length of each pair is less than that of the pair
before, and the whole resembles the ten reeds of the mouth organ or Pan
pipes