The Provoked Wife,
and architect
of Blenheim. This
Haymarket Theatre
, on the site of that known as 'Her
Majesty's,' was designed and opened by Vanbrugh in 1706, thirty persons
of quality having subscribed a hundred pounds each towards the cost of
it. He and Congreve were to write the plays, and Betterton was to take
charge of their performance. The speculation was a failure; partly
because the fields and meadows of the west end of the town cut off the
poorer playgoers of the City, who could not afford coach-hire; partly
because the house was too large, and its architecture swallowed up the
voices of the actors. Vanbrugh and Congreve opened their grand west-end
theatre with concession to the new taste of the fashionable for Italian
Opera. They began with a translated opera set to Italian music, which
ran only for three nights. Sir John Vanbrugh then produced his comedy of
The Confederacy,
with less success than it deserved. In a few months
Congreve abandoned his share in the undertaking. Vanbrugh proceeded to
adapt for his new house three plays of Molière. Then Vanbrugh, still
failing, let the Haymarket to Mr. Owen Swiney, a trusted agent of the
manager of
Drury Lane
, who was to allow him to draw what actors he
pleased from
Drury Lane
and divide profits. The recruited actors in
the
Haymarket
had better success. The secret league between the two
theatres was broken. In 1707 the
Haymarket
was supported by a
subscription headed by Lord Halifax. But presently a new joint patentee
brought energy into the counsels of
Drury Lane
. Amicable restoration
was made to the Theatre Royal of the actors under Swiney at the
Haymarket
; and to compensate Swiney for his loss of profit, it was
agreed that while
Drury Lane
confined itself to the acting of plays,
he should profit by the new taste for Italian music, and devote the
house in the
Haymarket
to opera. Swiney was content. The famous singer
Nicolini had come over, and the town was impatient to hear him. This
compact held for a short time. It was broken then by quarrels behind the
scenes. In 1709 Wilks, Dogget, Cibber, and Mrs. Oldfield treated with
Swiney to be sharers with him in the
Haymarket
as heads of a dramatic
company. They contracted the width of the theatre, brought down its
enormously high ceiling, thus made the words of the plays audible, and
had the town to themselves, till a lawyer, Mr. William Collier, M.P. for
Truro, in spite of the counter-attraction of the trial of Sacheverell,
obtained a license to open
Drury Lane
, and produced an actress who
drew money to Charles Shadwell's comedy,
The Fair Quaker of Deal.
At
the close of the season Collier agreed with Swiney and his
actor-colleagues to give up to them
Drury Lane
with its actors, take
in exchange the
Haymarket
with its singers, and be sole Director of
the Opera; the actors to pay Collier two hundred a year for the use of
his license, and to close their house on the Wednesdays when an opera
was played.
This was the relative position of
Drury Lane
and the
Haymarket
theatres when the
Spectator
first appeared.
Drury Lane
had entered
upon a long season of greater prosperity than it had enjoyed for thirty
years before. Collier, not finding the
Haymarket
as prosperous as it
was fashionable, was planning a change of place with Swiney, and he so
contrived, by lawyer's wit and court influence, that in the winter
following 1711 Collier was at Drury Lane with a new license for himself,
Wilks, Dogget, and Cibber; while Swiney, transferred to the Opera, was
suffering a ruin that caused him to go abroad, and be for twenty years
afterwards an exile from his country.
Jonathan's
Coffee House, in Change Alley, was the place
of resort for stock-jobbers. It was to
Garraway's
, also in Change
Alley, that people of quality on business in the City, or the wealthy
and reputable citizens, preferred to go.
pains ... are.
The Spectator
in its first daily issue was
'Printed for
Sam. Buckley, at the Dolphin in Little Britain; and sold by A.
Baldwin in Warwick Lane.'
The initials appended to the papers in their daily issue
were placed, in a corner of the page, after the printer's name.
Contents
|
Friday, March 2, 1711 |
Steele |
... Ast Alii sex
Et plures uno conclamant ore.
Juv.
first of our Society is a Gentleman of
Worcestershire
, of antient
Descent, a Baronet, his Name Sir
Roger De Coverly.
His great
Grandfather was Inventor of that famous Country-Dance which is call'd
after him. All who know that Shire are very well acquainted with the
Parts and Merits of Sir
Roger
. He is a Gentleman that is very singular
in his Behaviour, but his Singularities proceed from his good Sense, and
are Contradictions to the Manners of the World, only as he thinks the
World is in the wrong. However, this Humour creates him no Enemies, for
he does nothing with Sourness or Obstinacy; and his being unconfined to
Modes and Forms, makes him but the readier and more capable to please
and oblige all who know him.
he is in town he lives in
Soho
Square
: It is said, he keeps himself a Batchelour by reason he
was crossed in Love by a perverse beautiful Widow of the next County to
him.
this Disappointment, Sir
Roger
was what you call a fine
Gentleman, had often supped with my Lord
Rochester
and Sir
George Etherege
, fought a Duel upon his first coming to Town,
and kick'd Bully
Dawson
in a publick Coffee-house for calling
him Youngster. But being ill-used by the above-mentioned Widow, he was
very serious for a Year and a half; and tho' his Temper being naturally
jovial, he at last got over it, he grew careless of himself and never
dressed afterwards; he continues to wear a Coat and Doublet of the same
Cut that were in Fashion at the Time of his Repulse, which, in his merry
Humours, he tells us, has been in and out twelve Times since he first
wore it. 'Tis said Sir
Roger
grew humble in his Desires after he had
forgot this cruel Beauty, insomuch that it is reported he has frequently
offended in Point of Chastity with Beggars and Gypsies: but this is
look'd upon by his Friends rather as Matter of Raillery than Truth. He
is now in his Fifty-sixth Year, cheerful, gay, and hearty, keeps a good
House in both Town and Country; a great Lover of Mankind; but there is
such a mirthful Cast in his Behaviour, that he is rather beloved than
esteemed. His Tenants grow rich, his Servants look satisfied, all the
young Women profess Love to him, and the young Men are glad of his
Company: When he comes into a House he calls the Servants by their
Names, and talks all the way Up Stairs to a Visit. I must not omit that
Sir
Roger
is a Justice of the
Quorum
; that he fills the chair at a
Quarter-Session with great Abilities, and three Months ago, gained
universal Applause by explaining a Passage in the Game-Act.
The Gentleman next in Esteem and Authority among us, is another
Batchelour, who is a Member of the
Inner Temple
: a Man of great
Probity, Wit, and Understanding; but he has chosen his Place of
Residence rather to obey the Direction of an old humoursome Father, than
in pursuit of his own Inclinations. He was plac'd there to study the
Laws of the Land, and is the most learned of any of the House in those
of the Stage.
Aristotle
and
Longinus
are much better understood by
him than
Littleton
or
Cooke
. The Father sends up every Post
Questions relating to Marriage-Articles, Leases, and Tenures, in the
Neighbourhood; all which Questions he agrees with an Attorney to answer
and take care of in the Lump. He is studying the Passions themselves,
when he should be inquiring into the Debates among Men which arise from
them. He knows the Argument of each of the Orations of
Demosthenes
and
Tully
, but not one Case in the Reports of our own Courts. No one ever
took him for a Fool, but none, except his intimate Friends, know he has
a great deal of Wit. This Turn makes him at once both disinterested and
agreeable: As few of his Thoughts are drawn from Business, they are most
of them fit for Conversation. His Taste of Books is a little too just
for the Age he lives in; he has read all, but Approves of very few. His
Familiarity with the Customs, Manners, Actions, and Writings of the
Antients, makes him a very delicate Observer of what occurs to him in
the present World.
is an excellent Critick, and the Time of the Play
is his Hour of Business; exactly at five he passes through
New Inn
,
crosses through
Russel Court
; and takes a turn at
Will's
till the
play begins; he has his shoes rubb'd and his Perriwig powder'd at the
Barber's as you go into the Rose
— It is for the Good of the Audience
when he is at a Play, for the Actors have an Ambition to please him.
The Person of next Consideration is Sir
Andrew Freeport
, a Merchant of
great Eminence in the City of
London
: A Person of indefatigable
Industry, strong Reason, and great Experience. His Notions of Trade are
noble and generous, and (as every rich Man has usually some sly Way of
Jesting, which would make no great Figure were he not a rich Man) he
calls the Sea the
British Common
. He is acquainted with Commerce
in all its Parts, and will tell you that it is a stupid and barbarous
Way to extend Dominion by Arms; for true Power is to be got by Arts and
Industry. He will often argue, that if this Part of our Trade were well
cultivated, we should gain from one Nation; and if another, from
another. I have heard him prove that Diligence makes more lasting
Acquisitions than Valour, and that Sloth has ruin'd more Nations than
the Sword. He abounds in several frugal Maxims, amongst which the
greatest Favourite is, 'A Penny saved is a Penny got.' A General Trader
of good Sense is pleasanter Company than a general Scholar; and Sir
Andrew
having a natural unaffected Eloquence, the Perspicuity of his
Discourse gives the same Pleasure that Wit would in another Man. He has
made his Fortunes himself; and says that
England
may be richer
than other Kingdoms, by as plain Methods as he himself is richer than
other Men; tho' at the same Time I can say this of him, that there is
not a point in the Compass, but blows home a Ship in which he is an
Owner.
to Sir
Andrew
in the Club-room sits Captain
Sentry
, a Gentleman
of great Courage, good Understanding, but Invincible Modesty. He is one
of those that deserve very well, but are very awkward at putting their
Talents within the Observation of such as should take notice of them. He
was some Years a Captain, and behaved himself with great Gallantry in
several Engagements, and at several Sieges; but having a small Estate of
his own, and being next Heir to Sir
Roger
, he has quitted a Way of Life
in which no Man can rise suitably to his Merit, who is not something of
a Courtier, as well as a Soldier. I have heard him often lament, that in
a Profession where Merit is placed in so conspicuous a View, Impudence
should get the better of Modesty. When he has talked to this Purpose, I
never heard him make a sour Expression, but frankly confess that he left
the World, because he was not fit for it. A strict Honesty and an even
regular Behaviour, are in themselves Obstacles to him that must press
through Crowds who endeavour at the same End with himself, the Favour of
a Commander. He will, however, in this Way of Talk, excuse Generals, for
not disposing according to Men's Desert, or enquiring into it: For, says
he, that great Man who has a Mind to help me, has as many to break
through to come at me, as I have to come at him: Therefore he will
conclude, that the Man who would make a Figure, especially in a military
Way, must get over all false Modesty, and assist his Patron against the
Importunity of other Pretenders, by a proper Assurance in his own
Vindication. He says it is a civil Cowardice to be backward in asserting
what you ought to expect, as it is a military Fear to be slow in
attacking when it is your Duty. With this Candour does the Gentleman
speak of himself and others. The same Frankness runs through all his
Conversation. The military Part of his Life has furnished him with many
Adventures, in the Relation of which he is very agreeable to the
Company; for he is never over-bearing, though accustomed to command Men
in the utmost Degree below him; nor ever too obsequious, from an Habit
of obeying Men highly above him.
that our Society may not appear a Set of Humourists unacquainted
with the Gallantries and Pleasures of the Age, we have among us the
gallant
Will. Honeycomb
, a Gentleman who, according to his Years,
should be in the Decline of his Life, but having ever been very careful
of his Person, and always had a very easy Fortune, Time has made but
very little Impression, either by Wrinkles on his Forehead, or Traces in
his Brain. His Person is well turned, and of a good Height. He is very
ready at that sort of Discourse with which Men usually entertain Women.
He has all his Life dressed very well, and remembers Habits as others do
Men. He can smile when one speaks to him, and laughs easily. He knows
the History of every Mode, and can inform you from which of the French
King's Wenches our Wives and Daughters had this Manner of curling their
Hair, that Way of placing their Hoods; whose Frailty was covered by such
a Sort of Petticoat, and whose Vanity to show her Foot made that Part of
the Dress so short in such a Year. In a Word, all his Conversation and
Knowledge has been in the female World: As other Men of his Age will
take Notice to you what such a Minister said upon such and such an
Occasion, he will tell you when the Duke of
Monmouth
danced at Court
such a Woman was then smitten, another was taken with him at the Head of
his Troop in the
Park
. In all these important Relations, he has ever
about the same Time received a kind Glance, or a Blow of a Fan, from
some celebrated Beauty, Mother of the present Lord such-a-one. If you
speak of a young Commoner that said a lively thing in the House, he
starts up,
'He has good Blood in his Veins, Tom Mirabell begot him, the Rogue
cheated me in that Affair; that young Fellow's Mother used me more
like a Dog than any Woman I ever made Advances to.'
This Way of Talking of his, very much enlivens the Conversation among us
of a more sedate Turn; and I find there is not one of the Company but
myself, who rarely speak at all, but speaks of him as of that Sort of
Man, who is usually called a well-bred fine Gentleman. To conclude his
Character, where Women are not concerned, he is an honest worthy Man.
I cannot tell whether I am to account him whom I am next to speak of, as
one of our Company; for he visits us but seldom, but when he does, it
adds to every Man else a new Enjoyment of himself. He is a Clergyman, a
very philosophick Man, of general Learning, great Sanctity of Life, and
the most exact good Breeding. He has the Misfortune to be of a very weak
Constitution, and consequently cannot accept of such Cares and Business
as Preferments in his Function would oblige him to: He is therefore
among Divines what a Chamber-Counsellor is among Lawyers. The Probity of
his Mind, and the Integrity of his Life, create him Followers, as being
eloquent or loud advances others. He seldom introduces the Subject he
speaks upon; but we are so far gone in Years, that he observes when he
is among us, an Earnestness to have him fall on some divine Topick,
which he always treats with much Authority, as one who has no Interests
in this World, as one who is hastening to the Object of all his Wishes,
and conceives Hope from his Decays and Infirmities.
are my
ordinary Companions.
R.
The character of Sir Roger de Coverley is said to have been
drawn from Sir John Pakington, of Worcestershire, a Tory, whose name,
family, and politics are represented by a statesman of the present time.
The name, on this its first appearance in the
Spectator
, is spelt
Coverly; also in the first reprint.
Soho Square
was then a new and most fashionable part
of the town. It was built in 1681. The Duke of Monmouth lived in the
centre house, facing the statue. Originally the square was called King
Square. Pennant mentions, on Pegg's authority, a tradition that, on the
death of Monmouth, his admirers changed the name to Soho, the word of
the day at the field of Sedgemoor. But the ground upon which the Square
stands was called Soho as early as the year 1632. 'So ho' was the old
call in hunting when a hare was found.
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, b. 1648, d. 1680. His
licentious wit made him a favourite of Charles II. His strength was
exhausted by licentious living at the age of one and thirty. His chief
work is a poem upon 'Nothing.' He died repentant of his wasted life, in
which, as he told Burnet, he had 'for five years been continually
drunk,' or so much affected by frequent drunkenness as in no instance to
be master of himself.
Sir George Etherege, b. 1636, d. 1694. 'Gentle George' and
'Easy Etherege,' a wit and friend of the wits of the Restoration. He
bought his knighthood to enable him to marry a rich widow who required a
title, and died of a broken neck, by tumbling down-stairs when he was
drunk and lighting guests to their apartments. His three comedies,
The
Comical Revenge, She Would if she Could,
and
The Man of Mode, or Sir
Fopling Flutter,
excellent embodiments of the court humour of his time,
were collected and printed in 8vo in 1704, and reprinted, with addition
of five poems, in 1715.
Bully Dawson, a swaggering sharper of Whitefriars, is said
to have been sketched by Shadwell in the Captain Hackum of his comedy
called
The Squire of Alsatia.
The
Rose
Tavern was on the east side of Brydges Street,
near Drury Lane Theatre, much favoured by the looser sort of play-goers.
Garrick, when he enlarged the Theatre, made the
Rose
Tavern a part of
it.
Captain Sentry was by some supposed to have been drawn from
Colonel Kempenfelt, the father of the Admiral who went down with the
Royal George
.
Will. Honeycomb was by some found in a Colonel Cleland.
Steele's signature was
R
till No. 91; then
T
, and
occasionally
R
, till No. 134; then always
T
.
Addison signed
C
till No.
85, when he first used
L
; and was
L
or
C
till No. 265, then
L
, till he
first used
I
in No. 372. Once or twice using
L
, he was
I
till No. 405,
which he signed
O
, and by this letter he held, except for a return to
C
(with a single use of
O
), from 433 to 477.
Contents
|
Thursday, March 1, 1711 |
Addison |
Quoi quisque ferè studio devinctus adhæret:
Aut quibus in rebus multùm sumus antè morati:
Atque in quâ ratione fuit contenta magis mens;
In somnis eadem plerumque videmur obire.
Lucr. L. 4.
one of my late Rambles, or rather Speculations, I looked into the
great Hall where the Bank
is kept, and was not a little pleased to
see the Directors, Secretaries, and Clerks, with all the other Members
of that wealthy Corporation, ranged in their several Stations, according
to the Parts they act in that just and regular Œconomy. This revived in
my Memory the many Discourses which I had both read and heard,
concerning the Decay of Publick Credit, with the Methods of restoring
it, and which, in my Opinion, have always been defective, because they
have always been made with an Eye to separate Interests and Party
Principles.
The Thoughts of the Day gave my Mind Employment for the whole Night, so
that I fell insensibly into a kind of Methodical Dream, which disposed
all my Contemplations into a Vision or Allegory, or what else the Reader
shall please to call it.
Methoughts I returned to the Great Hall, where I had been the Morning
before, but to my Surprize, instead of the Company that I left there, I
saw, towards the Upper-end of the Hall, a beautiful Virgin seated on a
Throne of Gold. Her Name (as they told me) was
Publick Credit
. The
Walls, instead of being adorned with Pictures and Maps, were hung with
many Acts of Parliament written in Golden Letters.
the Upper end of
the Hall was the
Magna Charta
, with the Act of Uniformity
on
the right Hand, and the Act of Toleration
on the left. At the Lower
end of the Hall was the Act of Settlement
, which was placed full in
the Eye of the Virgin that sat upon the Throne. Both the Sides of the
Hall were covered with such Acts of Parliament as had been made for the
Establishment of Publick Funds. The Lady seemed to set an unspeakable
Value upon these several Pieces of Furniture, insomuch that she often
refreshed her Eye with them, and often smiled with a Secret Pleasure, as
she looked upon them; but at the same time showed a very particular
Uneasiness, if she saw any thing approaching that might hurt them. She
appeared indeed infinitely timorous in all her Behaviour: And, whether
it was from the Delicacy of her Constitution, or that she was troubled
with the Vapours, as I was afterwards told by one who I found was none
of her Well-wishers, she changed Colour, and startled at everything she
heard. She was likewise (as I afterwards found) a greater Valetudinarian
than any I had ever met with, even in her own Sex, and subject to such
Momentary Consumptions, that in the twinkling of an Eye, she would fall
away from the most florid Complexion, and the most healthful State of
Body, and wither into a Skeleton. Her Recoveries were often as sudden as
her Decays, insomuch that she would revive in a Moment out of a wasting
Distemper, into a Habit of the highest Health and Vigour.