We meet with the same Heroic Sentiments in
Virgil
.
Non pudet, O Rutuli, cunctis pro talibus unam
Objectare animam? numerone an viribus æqui
Non sumus ... ?
What can be more natural or more moving than the Circumstances in which
he describes the Behaviour of those Women who had lost their Husbands on
this fatal Day?
Next Day did many Widows come
Their Husbands to bewail;
They washed their Wounds in brinish Tears,
But all would not prevail.
Their Bodies bath'd in purple Blood,
They bore with them away;
They kiss'd them dead a thousand Times,
When they were clad in Clay.
Thus we see how the Thoughts of this Poem, which naturally arise from
the Subject, are always simple, and sometimes exquisitely noble; that
the Language is often very sounding, and that the whole is written with
a true poetical Spirit.
If this Song had been written in the
Gothic
Manner, which is the
Delight of all our little Wits, whether Writers or Readers, it would not
have hit the Taste of so many Ages, and have pleased the Readers of all
Ranks and Conditions. I shall only beg Pardon for such a Profusion of
Latin
Quotations; which I should not have made use of, but that I
feared my own Judgment would have looked too singular on such a Subject,
had not I supported it by the Practice and Authority of
Virgil
.
C.
that
very sonorous;
should perish
should arise
that
Contents
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|
Saturday, May 26, 1711 |
Steele |
Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et status, et res.
Hor.
It was with some Mortification that I suffered the Raillery of a Fine
Lady of my Acquaintance, for calling, in one of my Papers,
Dorimant
a
Clown. She was so unmerciful as to take Advantage of my invincible
Taciturnity, and on that occasion, with great Freedom to consider the
Air, the Height, the Face, the Gesture of him who could pretend to judge
so arrogantly of Gallantry. She is full of Motion, Janty and lively in
her Impertinence, and one of those that commonly pass, among the
Ignorant, for Persons who have a great deal of Humour. She had the Play
of Sir
Fopling
in her Hand, and after she had said it was happy for
her there was not so charming a Creature as
Dorimant
now living, she
began with a Theatrical Air and Tone of Voice to Read, by way of Triumph
over me, some of his Speeches.
'Tis she, that lovely Hair, that easy
Shape, those wanton Eyes, and all those melting Charms about her Mouth,
which
Medley
spoke of; I'll follow the Lottery, and put in for a Prize
with my Friend
Bellair.
In Love the Victors from the Vanquish'd fly;
They fly that wound, and they pursue that dye,
Then turning over the Leaves, she reads alternately, and speaks,
And you and Loveit to her Cost shall find
I fathom all the Depths of Womankind.
Oh the Fine Gentleman! But here, continues she, is the Passage I admire
most, where he begins to Teize
Loveit
, and mimick Sir
Fopling
: Oh
the pretty Satyr, in his resolving to be a Coxcomb to please, since
Noise and Nonsense have such powerful Charms!
I, that I may Successful prove,
Transform my self to what you love.
Then how like a Man of the Town, so Wild and Gay is that
The Wife will find a Diff'rence in our Fate,
You wed a Woman, I a good Estate.
It would have been a very wild Endeavour for a Man of my Temper to offer
any Opposition to so nimble a Speaker as my Fair Enemy is; but her
Discourse gave me very many Reflections, when I had left her Company.
Among others, I could not but consider, with some Attention, the false
Impressions the generality (the Fair Sex more especially) have of what
should be intended, when they say a
Fine Gentleman
; and could not help
revolving that Subject in my Thoughts, and settling, as it were, an Idea
of that Character in my own Imagination.
No Man ought to have the Esteem of the rest of the World, for any
Actions which are disagreeable to those Maxims which prevail, as the
Standards of Behaviour, in the Country wherein he lives. What is
opposite to the eternal Rules of Reason and good Sense, must be excluded
from any Place in the Carriage of a Well-bred Man. I did not, I confess,
explain myself enough on this Subject, when I called
Dorimant
a Clown,
and made it an Instance of it, that he called the
Orange Wench
,
Double Tripe
: I should have shewed, that Humanity obliges a Gentleman
to give no Part of Humankind Reproach, for what they, whom they
Reproach, may possibly have in Common with the most Virtuous and Worthy
amongst us. When a Gentleman speaks Coarsly, he has dressed himself
Clean to no purpose: The Cloathing of our Minds certainly ought to be
regarded before that of our Bodies. To betray in a Man's Talk a
corrupted Imagination, is a much greater Offence against the
Conversation of Gentlemen, than any Negligence of Dress imaginable. But
this Sense of the Matter is so far from being received among People even
of Condition, that
Vocifer
passes for a fine Gentleman. He is Loud,
Haughty, Gentle, Soft, Lewd, and Obsequious by turns, just as a little
Understanding and great Impudence prompt him at the present Moment. He
passes among the silly Part of our Women for a Man of Wit, because he is
generally in Doubt. He contradicts with a Shrug, and confutes with a
certain Sufficiency, in professing such and such a Thing is above his
Capacity. What makes his Character the pleasanter is, that he is a
professed Deluder of Women; and because the empty Coxcomb has no Regard
to any thing that is of it self Sacred and Inviolable, I have heard an
unmarried Lady of Fortune say, It is pity so fine a Gentleman as
Vocifer
is so great an Atheist. The Crowds of such inconsiderable
Creatures that infest all Places of Assembling, every Reader will have
in his Eye from his own Observation; but would it not be worth
considering what sort of Figure a Man who formed himself upon those
Principles among us, which are agreeable to the Dictates of Honour and
Religion, would make in the familiar and ordinary Occurrences of Life?
I hardly have observed any one fill his several Duties of Life better
than
Ignotus
. All the under Parts of his Behaviour and such as are
exposed to common Observation, have their Rise in him from great and
noble Motives. A firm and unshaken Expectation of another Life, makes
him become this; Humanity and Good-nature, fortified by the Sense of
Virtue, has the same Effect upon him, as the Neglect of all Goodness has
upon many others. Being firmly established in all Matters of Importance,
that certain Inattention which makes Men's Actions look easie appears in
him with greater Beauty: By a thorough Contempt of little Excellencies,
he is perfectly Master of them. This Temper of Mind leaves him under no
Necessity of Studying his Air, and he has this peculiar Distinction,
that his Negligence is unaffected.
He that can work himself into a Pleasure in considering this Being as an
uncertain one, and think to reap an Advantage by its Discontinuance, is
in a fair way of doing all things with a graceful Unconcern, and
Gentleman-like Ease. Such a one does not behold his Life as a short,
transient, perplexing State, made up of trifling Pleasures, and great
Anxieties; but sees it in quite another Light; his Griefs are Momentary,
and his Joys Immortal. Reflection upon Death is not a gloomy and sad
Thought of Resigning every Thing that he Delights in, but it is a short
Night followed by an endless Day. What I would here contend for is, that
the more Virtuous the Man is, the nearer he will naturally be to the
Character of Genteel and Agreeable. A Man whose Fortune is Plentiful,
shews an Ease in his Countenance, and Confidence in his Behaviour, which
he that is under Wants and Difficulties cannot assume. It is thus with
the State of the Mind; he that governs his Thoughts with the everlasting
Rules of Reason and Sense, must have something so inexpressibly Graceful
in his Words and Actions, that every Circumstance must become him. The
Change of Persons or Things around him do not at all alter his
Situation, but he looks disinterested in the Occurrences with which
others are distracted, because the greatest Purpose of his Life is to
maintain an Indifference both to it and all its Enjoyments. In a word,
to be a Fine Gentleman, is to be a Generous and a Brave Man. What can
make a Man so much in constant Good-humour and Shine, as we call it,
than to be supported by what can never fail him, and to believe that
whatever happens to him was the best thing that could possibly befal
him, or else he on whom it depends would not have permitted it to have
befallen him at all?
R.
Contents
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|
Monday, May 28, 1711 |
Steele |
Ut tu Fortunam, sic nos te, Celse, feremus.
Hor.
There is nothing so common as to find a Man whom in the general
Observations of his Carriage you take to be of an uniform Temper,
subject to such unaccountable Starts of Humour and Passion, that he is
as much unlike himself and differs as much from the Man you at first
thought him, as any two distinct Persons can differ from each other.
This proceeds from the Want of forming some Law of Life to our selves,
or fixing some Notion of things in general, which may affect us in such
Manner as to create proper Habits both in our Minds and Bodies. The
Negligence of this, leaves us exposed not only to an unbecoming Levity
in our usual Conversation, but also to the same Instability in our
Friendships, Interests, and Alliances. A Man who is but a mere Spectator
of what passes around him, and not engaged in Commerces of any
Consideration, is but an ill Judge of the secret Motions of the Heart of
Man, and by what Degrees it is actuated to make such visible Alterations
in the same Person: But at the same Time, when a Man is no way concerned
in the Effects of such Inconsistences in the Behaviour of Men of the
World, the Speculation must be in the utmost Degree both diverting and
instructive; yet to enjoy such Observations in the highest Relish, he
ought to be placed in a Post of Direction, and have the dealing of their
Fortunes to them. I have therefore been wonderfully diverted with some
Pieces of secret History, which an Antiquary, my very good Friend, lent
me as a Curiosity.
are memoirs of the private Life of
Pharamond
of France
.
'Pharamond, says my Author, was a Prince of
infinite Humanity and Generosity, and at the same time the most pleasant
and facetious Companion of his Time. He had a peculiar Taste in him
(which would have been unlucky in any Prince but himself,) he thought
there could be no exquisite Pleasure in Conversation but among Equals;
and would pleasantly bewail himself that he always lived in a Crowd, but
was the only man in France that never could get into Company.
This Turn of Mind made him delight in Midnight Rambles, attended only
with one Person of his Bed-chamber: He would in these Excursions get
acquainted with Men (whose Temper he had a Mind to try) and recommend
them privately to the particular Observation of his first Minister. He
generally found himself neglected by his new Acquaintance as soon as
they had Hopes of growing great; and used on such Occasions to remark,
That it was a great Injustice to tax Princes of forgetting themselves in
their high Fortunes, when there were so few that could with Constancy
bear the Favour of their very Creatures.'
My Author in these loose Hints
has one Passage that gives us a very lively Idea of the uncommon Genius
of
Pharamond
. He met with one Man whom he had put to all the usual
Proofs he made of those he had a mind to know thoroughly, and found him
for his Purpose: In Discourse with him one Day, he gave him Opportunity
of saying how much would satisfy all his Wishes. The Prince immediately
revealed himself, doubled the Sum, and spoke to him in this manner.
'Sir, You have twice what you desired, by the Favour of Pharamond;
but look to it, that you are satisfied with it, for 'tis the last you
shall ever receive. I from this Moment consider you as mine; and to make
you truly so, I give you my Royal Word you shall never be greater or
less than you are at present. Answer me not, (concluded the Prince
smiling) but enjoy the Fortune I have put you in, which is above my own
Condition; for you have hereafter nothing to hope or to fear.'
His Majesty having thus well chosen and bought a Friend and Companion,
he enjoyed alternately all the Pleasures of an agreeable private Man and
a great and powerful Monarch: He gave himself, with his Companion, the
Name of the merry Tyrant; for he punished his Courtiers for their
Insolence and Folly, not by any Act of Publick Disfavour, but by
humorously practising upon their Imaginations. If he observed a Man
untractable to his Inferiors, he would find an Opportunity to take some
favourable Notice of him, and render him insupportable. He knew all his
own Looks, Words and Actions had their Interpretations; and his Friend
Monsieur
Eucrate
(for so he was called) having a great Soul without
Ambition, he could communicate all his Thoughts to him, and fear no
artful Use would be made of that Freedom. It was no small Delight when
they were in private to reflect upon all which had passed in publick.
Pharamond
would often, to satisfy a vain Fool of Power in his Country,
talk to him in a full Court, and with one Whisper make him despise all
his old Friends and Acquaintance. He was come to that Knowledge of Men
by long Observation, that he would profess altering the whole Mass of
Blood in some Tempers, by thrice speaking to them. As Fortune was in his
Power, he gave himself constant Entertainment in managing the mere
Followers of it with the Treatment they deserved. He would, by a skilful
Cast of his Eye and half a Smile, make two Fellows who hated, embrace
and fall upon each other's Neck with as much Eagerness, as if they
followed their real Inclinations, and intended to stifle one another.
When he was in high good Humour, he would lay the Scene with
Eucrate
,
and on a publick Night exercise tho Passions of his whole Court. He was
pleased to see an haughty Beauty watch the Looks of the Man she had long
despised, from Observation of his being taken notice of by
Pharamond
;
and the Lover conceive higher Hopes, than to follow the Woman he was
dying for the Day before. In a Court where Men speak Affection in the
strongest Terms, and Dislike in the faintest, it was a comical Mixture
of Incidents to see Disguises thrown aside in one Case and encreased on
the other, according as Favour or Disgrace attended the respective
Objects of Men's Approbation or Disesteem.
Pharamond
in his Mirth upon
the Meanness of Mankind used to say,
'As he could take away a Man's Five
Senses, he could give him an Hundred. The Man in Disgrace shall
immediately lose all his natural Endowments, and he that finds Favour
have the Attributes of an Angel.' He would carry it so far as to say,
'It should not be only so in the Opinion of the lower Part of his Court,
but the Men themselves shall think thus meanly or greatly of themselves,
as they are out or in the good Graces of a Court.'
A Monarch who had Wit and Humour like
Pharamond
, must have Pleasures
which no Man else can ever have Opportunity of enjoying. He gave Fortune
to none but those whom he knew could receive it without Transport: He
made a noble and generous Use of his Observations; and did not regard
his Ministers as they were agreeable to himself, but as they were useful
to his Kingdom: By this means the King appeared in every Officer of
State; and no Man had a Participation of the Power, who had not a
Similitude of the Virtue of
Pharamond
.
R.
Pharamond, or
Faramond
, was the subject of one of
the romances of M. de Costes de la Calprenède, published at Paris (12
vols.) in 1661. It was translated into English (folio) by J. Phillips in
1677.
Contents
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|
Tuesday, May 29, 1711 |
Budgell |
Non convivere licet, nec urbe tota
Quisquam est tam propè tam proculque nobis.
Mart.
My Friend
Will Honeycomb
is one of those Sort of Men who are very often
absent in Conversation, and what the
French
call
a reveur
and
a
distrait
. A little before our Club-time last Night we were walking
together in
Somerset
Garden, where
Will.
, had picked up a small Pebble
of so odd a Make, that he said he would present it to a Friend of his,
an eminent
Virtuoso
. After we had walked some time, I made a full stop
with my Face towards the West, which
Will.
, knowing to be my usual Method
of asking what's a Clock, in an Afternoon, immediately pulled out his
Watch, and told me we had seven Minutes good. We took a turn or two
more, when, to my great Surprize, I saw him squirr away his Watch a
considerable way into the
Thames
, and with great Sedateness in his
Looks put up the Pebble, he had before found, in his Fob. As I have
naturally an Aversion to much Speaking, and do not love to be the
Messenger of ill News, especially when it comes too late to be useful, I
left him to be convinced of his Mistake in due time, and continued my
Walk, reflecting on these little Absences and Distractions in Mankind,
and resolving to make them the Subject of a future Speculation.
was the more confirmed in my Design, when I considered that they were
very often Blemishes in the Characters of Men of excellent Sense; and
helped to keep up the Reputation of that Latin Proverb
, which Mr.
Dryden
has Translated in the following Lines:
Great Wit to Madness sure is near ally'd,
And thin Partitions do their Bounds divide.
My Reader does, I hope, perceive, that I distinguish a Man who is
Absent
, because he thinks of something else, from one who is
Absent
,
because he thinks of nothing at all: The latter is too innocent a
Creature to be taken notice of; but the Distractions of the former may,
I believe, be generally accounted for from one of these Reasons.
Either their Minds are wholly fixed on some particular Science, which is
often the Case of Mathematicians and other learned Men; or are wholly
taken up with some Violent Passion, such as Anger, Fear, or Love, which
ties the Mind to some distant Object; or, lastly, these Distractions
proceed from a certain Vivacity and Fickleness in a Man's Temper, which
while it raises up infinite Numbers of
Ideas
in the Mind, is
continually pushing it on, without allowing it to rest on any particular
Image. Nothing therefore is more unnatural than the Thoughts and
Conceptions of such a Man, which are seldom occasioned either by the
Company he is in, or any of those Objects which are placed before him.
While you fancy he is admiring a beautiful Woman, 'tis an even Wager
that he is solving a Proposition in
Euclid
; and while you may imagine
he is reading the
Paris
Gazette, it is far from being impossible, that
he is pulling down and rebuilding the Front of his Country-house.
At the same time that I am endeavouring to expose this Weakness in
others, I shall readily confess that I once laboured under the same
Infirmity myself. The Method I took to conquer it was a firm Resolution
to learn something from whatever I was obliged to see or hear. There is
a way of Thinking if a Man can attain to it, by which he may strike
somewhat out of any thing. I can at present observe those Starts of good
Sense and Struggles of unimproved Reason in the Conversation of a Clown,
with as much Satisfaction as the most shining Periods of the most
finished Orator; and can make a shift to command my Attention at a
Puppet-Show
or an
Opera
, as well as at
Hamlet
or
Othello
. I
always make one of the Company I am in; for though I say little myself,
my Attention to others, and those Nods of Approbation which I never
bestow unmerited, sufficiently shew that I am among them. Whereas
Will.
Honeycomb
, tho' a Fellow of good Sense, is every Day doing and saying an
hundred Things which he afterwards confesses, with a well-bred
Frankness, were somewhat
mal a propos
, and undesigned.
I chanced the other Day to go into a Coffee-house, where
Will
, was
standing in the midst of several Auditors whom he had gathered round
him, and was giving them an Account of the Person and Character of
Moll
Hinton
. My Appearance before him just put him in mind of me, without
making him reflect that I was actually present. So that keeping his Eyes
full upon me, to the great Surprize of his Audience, he broke off his
first Harangue, and proceeded thus:
'Why now there's my Friend
(mentioning me by my Name) he is a Fellow that thinks a great deal, but
never opens his Mouth; I warrant you he is now thrusting his short Face
into some Coffee-house about 'Change. I was his Bail in the time of
the Popish-Plot, when he was taken up for a Jesuit.'
If he had looked
on me a little longer, he had certainly described me so particularly,
without ever considering what led him into it, that the whole Company
must necessarily have found me out; for which Reason, remembering the
old Proverb,
Out of Sight out of Mind
, I left the Room; and upon
meeting him an Hour afterwards, was asked by him, with a great deal of
Good-humour, in what Part of the World I had lived, that he had not seen
me these three Days.
Bruyere
has given us the Character of
an absent
Man
,
with a great deal of Humour, which he has pushed to an agreeable
Extravagance; with the Heads of it I shall conclude my present Paper.
'Menalcas (says that excellent Author) comes down in a Morning,
opens his Door to go out, but shuts it again, because he perceives
that he has his Night-cap on; and examining himself further finds that
he is but half-shaved, that he has stuck his Sword on his right Side,
that his Stockings are about his Heels, and that his Shirt is over his
Breeches. When he is dressed he goes to Court, comes into the
Drawing-room, and walking bolt-upright under a Branch of Candlesticks
his Wig is caught up by one of them, and hangs dangling in the Air.
All the Courtiers fall a laughing, but Menalcas laughs louder than
any of them, and looks about for the Person that is the Jest of the
Company. Coming down to the Court-gate he finds a Coach, which taking
for his own, he whips into it; and the Coachman drives off, not
doubting but he carries his Master. As soon as he stops, Menalcas
throws himself out of the Coach, crosses the Court, ascends the
Staircase, and runs thro' all the Chambers with the greatest
Familiarity, reposes himself on a Couch, and fancies himself at home.
The Master of the House at last comes in, Menalcas rises to receive
him, and desires him to sit down; he talks, muses, and then talks
again. The Gentleman of the House is tired and amazed; Menalcas is
no less so, but is every Moment in Hopes that his impertinent Guest
will at last end his tedious Visit. Night comes on, when Menalcas is
hardly undeceived.
When he is playing at Backgammon, he calls for a full Glass of Wine
and Water; 'tis his turn to throw, he has the Box in one Hand and his
Glass in the other, and being extremely dry, and unwilling to lose
Time, he swallows down both the Dice, and at the same time throws his
Wine into the Tables. He writes a Letter, and flings the Sand into the
Ink-bottle; he writes a second, and mistakes the Superscription: A
Nobleman receives one of them, and upon opening it reads as follows:
I would have you, honest Jack, immediately upon the Receipt of this,
take in Hay enough to serve me the Winter. His Farmer receives the
other and is amazed to see in it, My Lord, I received your Grace's
Commands with an entire Submission to — If he is at an Entertainment,
you may see the Pieces of Bread continually multiplying round his
Plate: 'Tis true the rest of the Company want it, as well as their
Knives and Forks, which Menalcas does not let them keep long.
Sometimes in a Morning he puts his whole Family in an hurry, and at
last goes out without being able to stay for his Coach or Dinner, and
for that Day you may see him in every Part of the Town, except the
very Place where he had appointed to be upon a Business of Importance.
You would often take him for every thing that he is not; for a Fellow
quite stupid, for he hears nothing; for a Fool, for he talks to
himself, and has an hundred Grimaces and Motions with his Head, which
are altogether involuntary; for a proud Man, for he looks full upon
you, and takes no notice of your saluting him: The Truth on't is, his
Eyes are open, but he makes no use of them, and neither sees you, nor
any Man, nor any thing else: He came once from his Country-house, and
his own Footman undertook to rob him, and succeeded: They held a
Flambeau to his Throat, and bid him deliver his Purse; he did so, and
coming home told his Friends he had been robbed; they desired to know
the Particulars, Ask my Servants, says Menalcas, for they were with
me.
X.
Seneca
de Tranquill. Anim
. cap. xv.
'Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixturâ dementiæ'
Dryden's lines are in Part I of
Absalom and Achitophel
.
Caractères
, Chap. xi. de l'Homme. La Bruyère's Menalque was
identified with a M. de Brancas, brother of the Duke de Villars. The
adventure of the wig is said really to have happened to him at a
reception by the Queen-Mother. He was said also on his wedding-day to
have forgotten that he had been married. He went abroad as usual, and
only remembered the ceremony of the morning upon finding the changed
state of his household when, as usual, he came home in the evening.
Contents
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