indeed more speculative, but are less instructive. In his nicest care to avoid. The several weaknesses to a word, Sir, I would have you turn your thoughts which youth, old age, and manhood are exposed, to the advantage of such as want you most; and have long since been set down by many both of the show that simplicity, innocence, industry, and tem-poets and philosophers; but I do not remember to perance, are arts which lead to tranquillity as much have met with any author who has treated of those as learning, wisdom, knowledge, and contemplation. ill habits men are subject to, not so much by reason "I am, Sir, your most humble Servant, of their different ages and tempers, as the particular professions or business in which they were educated and brought up. I am the more surprised to find this subject so little touched on, since what I am here speaking of is so apparent, as not to escape the most vulgar observation. The business men are chiefly conversant in does not only give a certain cast or turn to their minds, but is very often apparent in their outward behaviour, and some of the most indifferent actions of their lives. It is this air diffusing itself over the whole man, which helps us to find out a person at his first appearance; so that the most careless observer fancies he can scarce be mistaken in the carriage of a seaman, or the gait of a tailor. The liberal arts, though they may possibly have less effect on our external mien and behaviour, make so deep an impression on the mind, as is very apt to bend it wholly one way. The mathematician will take little else than demonstration in the most common discourse, and the schoolman is as great a friend to definition and syllogisms. The physician and divine are often heard to dictate in private companies with the same authority which they exercise over their patients and disciples: while the lawyer is putting cases, and raising matter for disputation, out of every thing that occurs. "T. B." "MR. SPECTATOR, Hackney, Oct. 12. "I am the young woman whom you did so much justice to some time ago, in acknowledging that I am perfect mistress of the fan, and use it with the utmost knowledge and dexterity. Indeed the world, as malicious as it is, will allow, that from a hurry of laughter I recollect myself the most suddenly, make a curtsey, and let fall my hands before me, closing my fan at the same instant, the best of any woman in England. I am not a little delighted that I have had your notice and approbation; and however other young women may rally me out of envy, I triumph in it, and demand a place in your friendship. You must therefore permit me to lay before you the present state of my mind. I was reading your Spectator of the 9th instant, and thought the circumstance of the ass divided between the two bundles of hay, which equally affected his senses, was a lively representation of my present condition; for you are to know that I am extremely enamoured with two young gentlemen, who at this time pretend to me. One must hide nothing when one is asking advice, therefore I will own to you, that I am very amorous, and very covetous. My lover Will is very rich, and my lover Tom very handsome. I can have either of them when I please; but when I debate the question in my own mind, I cannot take Tom for fear of losing Will's estate, nor enter upon Will's estate, and bid adieu to Tom's person. I am very young, and yet no one in the world, dear Sir, has the main chance more in her head than myself. Tom is the gayest, the blithest This is the more ordinary, because these gentlecreature! He dances well, is very civil, and di- men, regarding argument as their own proper proverting at all hours and seasons. Oh! he is the joy vince, and very often making ready money of it, of my eyes! But then again Will is so very rich think it unsafe to yield before company. They are - and careful of the main. How many pretty dresses showing in common talk how zealously they could does Tom appear in to charm me! But then it defend a cause in court, and therefore frequently immediately occurs to me, that a man of his circum-forget to keep their temper, which is absolutely stances is so much the poorer. Upon the whole, I requisite to render conversation pleasant and inhave at last examined both these desires of love and structive. avarice, and upon strictly weighing the matter, I begin to think I shall be covetous longer than fond; | therefore if you have nothing to say to the contrary, I shall take Will. Alas, poor Tom! T. "Your humble Servant, "BIDDY LOVELESS." No. 197.] TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1711. Alter rixatur de lana sæpe caprina, On trifles some are earnestly absurd; EVERY age a man passes through, and way of life he engages in, has some particular vice or imperfection naturally cleaving to it, which will require I may possibly some time or other animadvert more at large on the particular fault each profession is most infected with; but shall at present wholly apply myself to the cure of what I last mentioned, namely, that spirit of strife and contention in the conversations of gentlemen of the long robe. Captain Sentry pushes this matter so far, that I have heard him say, "he has known but few pleaders that were tolerable company." The captain, who is a man of good sense, but dry conversation, was last night giving me an account of a discourse, in which he had lately been engaged with a young wrangler in the law. "I was giving my opinion," says the captain, "without apprehending any debate that might arise from it, of a general's behaviour in a battle that was fought some years before either the templar or myself were born. The young lawyer immediately took me up, and by reasoning above a quarter of an hour upon a subject which I saw he understood nothing of, endeavoured to show me that my opinions were ill-grounded. Upon which," says the captain, "to avoid any further contests, I told him, that truly I had not considered those several arguments which he had brought against me, and that there might be a great deal in them." 66 Ay, but," says my antagonist, who would not let me escape so, "there are several things to be urged in favour of your opinion which you have omitted;" and thereupon began to shine on the other side of the question. "Upon this," says the captain, "I came over to my first sentiments, and entirely acquiesced in his reasons for my so doing. Upon which the templar again recovered his former posture, and confuted both himself and me a third time. In short," says my friend, "I found he was tesolved to keep me at sword's length, and never let me close with him; so that I had nothing left but to hold my tongue, and give my antagonist free leave to smile at his victory, who I found, like Hudibras, could still change sides, and still confute."* For my own part, I have ever regarded our inns of court as nurseries of statesmen and lawgivers, which makes me often frequent that part of the town with great pleasure. not of your opinion. The interests, education, and means by which men attain their knowledge, are so very different, that it is impossible they should all think alike; and he has at least as much reason to be angry with you, as you with him. Sometimes, to keep yourself cool, it may be of service to ask yourself fairly, what might have been your opinion, had you all the biasses of education and interest your adversary may possibly have? But if you contend for the honour of victory alone, you may lay down this as an infallible maxim, that you cannot make a more false step, or give your antagonists a greater advantage over you, than by falling into a passion, When an argument is over, how many weighty reasons does a man recollect, which his heat and violence made him utterly forget! It is yet more absurd to be angry with a man because he does not apprehend the force of your rea sons, or gives weak ones of his own. If you argue for reputation, this makes your victory the easier; he is certainly in all respects an object of your pity, rather than anger; and if he cannot comprehend what you do, you ought to thank nature for her favours, who has given you so much the clearer understanding. Upon my calling in lately at one of the most noted Temple coffee-houses, I found the whole room, which was full of young students, divided into several parties, each of which was deeply engaged in some controversy. The management of the late ministry was attacked and defended with great vigour; and several preliminaries to the peace were proposed by some, and rejected by others; the demolishing of Dunkirk was so eagerly insisted on, and so warmly controverted, as had like to have produced a challenge. In short, I observed that You may please to add this consideration, that the desire of victory, whetted with the little preju-among your equals no one values your anger, which dices of party and interest, generally carried the ar- only preys upon its master; and perhaps you may gument to such a height, as made the disputants find it not very consistent either with prudence or insensibly conceive an aversion towards each other, your ease, to punish yourself whenever you meet and part with the highest dissatisfaction on both with a fool or a knave. sides. The managing an argument handsomely being so nice a point, and what I have seen so very few excel in, I shall here set down a few rules on that head, which, among other things, I gave in writing to a young kinsman of mine, who had made so great a proficiency in the law, that he began to plead in company, upon every subject that was started. Having the entire manuscript by me, I may, perhaps, from time to time, publish such parts of it as I shall think requisite for the instruction of the British youth. What regards my present purpose is as follows: Avoid disputes as much as possible. In order to appear easy and well-bred in conversation, you may assure yourself that it requires more wit, as well as more good humour, to improve than to contradict the notions of another: but if you are at any time obliged to enter on an argument, give your reasons with the utmost coolness and modesty, two things which scarce ever fail of making an impression on the bearers. Besides, if you are neither dogmatical, nor show either by your actions or words that you are full of yourself, all will the more heartily rejoice at your victory. Nay, should you be pinched in your argument, you may make your retreat with a very good grace. You were never positive, and are now glad to be better informed. This has made some approve the Socratical way of reasoning, where, while you scarce affirm any thing, you can' hardly be caught in an absurdity; and though possibly you are endeavouring to bring over another to your opinion, which is firmly fixed, you seem only to desire information from him. In order to keep that temper which is so difficult, and yet so necessary to preserve, you may please to consider, that nothing can be more unjust or ridiculous, than to be angry with another because he is Part i. cant. 1. ver. 69, 70. SPECTATOR-Nos. 29 & 30. Lastly, if you propose to yourself the true end of argument, which is information, it may be a seasonable check to your passion; for if you search purely after truth, it will be almost indifferent to you where you find it. I cannot in this place omit an observation which I have often made, namely, That nothing procures a man more esteem and less envy from the whole company, than if he chooses the part of moderator, without engaging directly on either side in a dispute. This gives him the character of impartial, furnishes him with an opportunity of sifting things to the bottom, showing his judgment, and of sometimes making handsome compliments to each of the contending parties. I shall close this subject with giving you one caution. When you have gained a victory do not push it too far; it is sufficient to let the company and your adversary see it is in your power but that you are too generous to make use of it.— No. 198.] WEDNESDAY, OCTOBE♣ 17, 1711. Cervæ luporum præda rapacium, * Fallere et effugere est triumphus. * HOR. 4 Od. iv. 50. We, like "weak hinds," the brinded wolf provoke, And when retreat is victory, Rush on, though sure to die.-OLDISWORTH. THERE is a species of women, whom I shall dis. tinguish by the name of salamanders. Now a salamander is a kind of heroine in chastity, that treads upon fire, and lives in the midst of flames without being hurt. A salamander knows no distinction of sex in those she converses with, grows familiar with a stranger at first sight, and is not so narrow-spirited as to observe whether the person she talks to All the editions of Horace read cervi: the Spectator altered it to cervæ, to adapt it more peculiarly to the subject of this paper. be in breeches or petticoats. She admits a male liberty, demanded a most exorbitant price for their visitant to her bed-side, plays with him a whole ransom. The Castilian, though he would rather afternoon at picquet, walks with him two or three have died in slavery himself, than have paid such a hours by moonlight, and is extremely scandalized at sum as he found would go near to ruin him, was se the unreasonableness of a husband, or the severity moved with compassion for his wife, that he sent of a parent, that would debar the sex from such in-repeated orders to his friend in Spain (who hapnocent liberties. Your salamander is therefore a pened to be his next relation), to sell his estate, perpetual declaimer against jealousy, an admirer of and transmit the money to him. His friend hoping the French good breeding, and a great stickler that the terms of his ransom might be made more for freedom in conversation. In short, the sala- reasonable, and unwilling to sell an estate which he mander lives in an invincible state of simplicity and himself had some prospect of inheriting, formed so innocence. Her constitution is preserved in a kind many delays, that three whole years passed away of natural frost. She wonders what people mean without any thing being done for the setting them by temptations, and defies mankind to do their worst. at liberty. Her chastity is engaged in a constant ordeal, or fiery trial: like good Queen Emma, the pretty innocent walks blindfold among burning ploughshares, without being scorched or singed by them. It is not therefore for the use of the salamander, whether in a married or a single state of life, that I design the following paper; but for such females only as are made of flesh and blood, and find themselves subject to human frailties. As for this part of the fair sex who are not of the salamander kind, I would most earnestly advise them to observe a quite different conduct in their behaviour; and to avoid as much as possible what religion calls temptations, and the world opportunities. Did they but know how many thousands of their sex have been gradually betrayed from innocent freedoms to ruin and infamy; and how many millions of ours have began with flatteries, protestations, and endearments, but ended with reproaches, perjury, and perfidiousness; they would shun like death the very first approaches of one that might lead them into inextricable labyrinths of guilt and misery. I must so far give up the cause of the male world, as to exhort the female sex in the language of Chamont in the Orphan : Trust not to man, we are by nature false, * I might very much enlarge upon this subject, but shall conclude it with a story which I lately heard from one of our Spanish officers, and which may show the danger a woman incurs by too great familiarities with a male companion. An inhabitant of the kingdom of Castile, being a man of more than ordinary prudence, and of a grave composed behaviour, determined about the fiftieth year of his age to enter upon wedlock, In order to make himself easy in it, he cast his eye upon a young woman who had nothing to recommend her but her beauty and her education, her parents having been reduced to great poverty by the wars, which for some years have laid that whole country waste. The Castilian having made his addresses to her and married her, they lived together in perfect happiness for some time; when at length the husband's affairs made it necessary for him to take a voyage to the kingdom of Naples, where a great part of his estate lay. The wife loved him too tenderly to be left behind him. They had not been a-shipboard above a day, when they unluckily fell into the hands of an Algerine pirate, who carried the whole company on shore, and made them slaves. The Castilian and his wife had the comfort to be under the same master; who seeing how dearly they loved one another, and gasped after their *Viz. one of the English officers who had been employed in the war in Spain There happened to live a French renegado in the same place where the Castilian and his wife were kept prisoners. As this fellow had in him all the vivacity of his nation, he often entertained the captives with accounts of his own adventures; to which he sometimes added a song or a dance, or some other piece of mirth, to divert them during their confinement. His acquaintance with the manners of the Algerines enabled him likewise to do them several good offices. The Castilian, as he was one day in conversation with this renegado, discovered to him the negligence and treachery of his correspondent in Castile, and at the same time asked his advice how he should behave himself in that exigency: he further told the renegado, that he found it would be impossible for him to raise the money, unless he might go over to dispose of his estate. The renegado, after having represented to him that his Algerine master would never consent to his release upon such a pretence, at length contrived a method for the Castilian to make his escape in the habit of a seaman. The Castilian succeeded in his attempt; and having sold his estate, being afraid lest the money should miscarry by the way, and determined to perish with it rather than lose one who was much dearer to him than his life, he returned himself in a little vessel that was going to Algiers. It is impossible to describe the joy he felt upon this occasion, when he considered that he should soon see the wife whom he so much loved, and endear himself more to her, by this uncommon piece of generosity. The renegado, during the husband's absence, so insinuated himself into the good graces of his young wife, and so turned her head with stories of gal. lantry, that she quickly thought him the finest gentleman she had ever conversed with. To be brief, her mind was quite alienated from the honest Castilian, whom she was taught to look upon as a formal old fellow, unworthy the possession of so charming a creature. She had been instructed by the renegado how to manage herself upon his ar rival; so that she received him with an appearance of the utmost love and gratitude, and at length persuaded him to trust their common friend the rene gado with the money he had brought over for their ransom; as not questioning but he would beat down the terms and negociate the affair more to their advantage than they themselves could do. The good man admired her prudence, and followed her advice. I wish I could conceal the sequel of this story; but since I cannot, I shall dispatch it in as few words as possible. The Castilian having slept longer than ordinary the next morning, upon his awaking found his wife had left him. He in mediately arose and inquired after her, but was told that she was seen with the renegado about break of day. In a word, her lover having got all things ready for their departure, they soon made their escape out of the territories of Algiers, carried away the money, and left the Castilian in captivity; who partly through the cruel treatment of the incensed Algerine his master, and partly through the unkind usage of his unfaithful wife, died some few months after.-L. 227 riches alone do not make you happy, and yet give up every thing else when it stands in competition with riches. Since the world is so bad, that religion is left to us silly women, and you men act generally upon principles of profit and pleasure, I will talk to you without arguing from any thing but what may be most to your advantage, as a man of the world. And I will lay before you the state of the case, supposing that you had it in your power to No. 199.] THURSDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1711. make me your mistress or your wife, and hope to -Scribere jussit amor.-OVID. Ep. iv. 10. Love bade me write. THE following letters are written with such an air of sincerity that I cannot deny the inserting of them: "MR. SPECTATOR, convince you that the latter is more for your interest, and will contribute more to your pleasure. "We will suppose, then, the scene was laid, and evening wherein I was to meet you, and be carried you were now in expectation of the approaching to what convenient corner of the town you thought fit, to consummate all which your wanton imagina "Though you are every where in your writings a tion has promised to you in the possession of one friend to women, I do not remember that you have who is in the bloom of youth, and in the reputation directly considered the mercenary practice of men of innocence. You would soon have enough of in the choice of wives. If you will please to em- me, as I am sprightly, young, gay, and airy. When ploy your thoughts upon that subject, you would fancy sated, and finds all the promises it made easily conceive the miserable condition many of us itself false, where is now the innocence which are in, who not only from the laws of custom and charmed you? The first hour you are alone, you modesty are restrained from making any advances will find that the pleasure of a debauchee is only towards our wishes, but are also, from the circum- that of a destroyer. He blasts all the fruit he stance of fortune, out of all hopes of being addressed tastes; and where the brute has been devouring, to by those whom we love. Under all these disad- there is nothing left worthy the relish of the man. vantages I am obliged to apply myself to you, and Reason resumes her place after imagination is hope I shall prevail on you to print in your very cloyed: and I am with the utmost distress and connext paper the following letter, which is a declara-fusion to behold myself the cause of uneasy reflection of passion to one who has made some faint tions to you, to be visited by stealth, and dwell for addresses to me for some time. I believe he ar- the future with two companions (the most unfit for dently loves me, but the inequality of my fortune makes him think he cannot answer it to the world, if he pursues his designs by way of marriage; and I believe, as he does not want discerning, he discovered me looking at him the other day unawares, in such a manner, as has raised his hopes of gaining me on terms the men call easier. But my heart was very full on this occasion, and if you know what love and honour are, you will pardon "On the other hand, if you can be so good and me that I use no further arguments with you, but generous as to make me your wife, you may promise hasten to my letter to him, whom I call Oroon-yourself all the obedience and tenderness with which dates; because if I do not succeed, it shall look gratitude can inspire a virtuous woman. like romance; and if I am regarded, you shall re-ever gratifications you may promise yourself from ceive a pair of gloves at my wedding, sent to you under the name of Statira." "TO OROONDates. each other in the world) solitude and guilt. I will not insist upon the shameful obscurity we should pass our time in, nor run over the little short snatches of fresh air, and free commerce, which all people must be satisfied with, whose actions will not bear examination, but leave them to your reflections, who have seen enough of that life, of which I have but a mere idea. What raptures of innocent passion are but like lightning to the day, they rather interrupt than advance the pleasure of it. How happy, then, is that life to be, where the highest pleasures of sense are but the lowest parts of its felicity? an agreeable person, whatever compliances from an easy temper, whatever consolations from a sincere friendship, you may expect as the due of your ge"SIB, nerosity. What at present in your ill view you promise yourself from me, will be followed with "After very much perplexity in myself, and re-distaste and satiety; but the transports of a virtu volving how to acquaint you with my own senti-ous love are the least part of its happiness. Thy ments, and expostulate with you concerning yours, I have chosen this way; by which means I can be at once revealed to you, or, if you please, lie concealed. If I do not within a few days find the effect which I hope from this, the whole affair shall be buried in oblivion. But, alas! what am I going to do, when I am about to tell you that I love you? But after I have done so, I am to assure you, that with all the passion which ever entered a tender heart, I know I can banish you from my sight for ever, when I am convinced that you have no inclinations towards me but to my dishonour. But, alas! Sir, why should you sacrifice the real and essential happiness of life to the opinion of a world, that moves upon no other foundation but professed error and prejudice? You all can observe that A celebrated name in Mademoiselle Scudery's French romance of The Grand Cyrus, &c. "Now am I to repeat to you the unnatural request of taking me in direct terms. I know there stands between me and that happiness, the haughty daughter of a man who can give you suitability to your fortune. But if you weigh the attendance and behaviour of her who comes to you in partnership of your fortune, and expects an equivalent, with that of her who enters your house as honoured and obliged by that permission, whom of the two will you choose? You, perhaps, will think fit to spend a day abroad in the common entertainments of men of sense and fortune; she will think herself ill-used in that absence, and contrive at home an expense proportioned to the appearance which you make in the world. She is in all things to have a regard to the fortune which she brought you, I to the fortune to which you introduce me. The commerce between you two will eternally have the air of a bargain, between us of a friendship; joy will ever enter into the room with you, and kind wishes attend my benefactor when he leaves it. Ask yourself how would you be pleased to enjoy for ever the pleasure of having laid an immediate obligation on a grateful mind? Such will be your case with me. ln the other marriage you will live in a constant comparison of benefits, and never know the happiness of conferring or receiving any. On the other hand, if it should please God to drop from heaven a new people, equal in number and riches to the city, I should be ready to think their excises, customs, and house-rent would raise as great a revenue to the crown as would be lost in the former case. And as the consumption of this new body would be a new market for the fruits of the country, all the lands, especially those most adjacent, would rise in their yearly value, and pay greater yearly taxes to the public. The gain in this case would be as sensible as the former loss. Whatsoever is assessed upon the general, is levied upon individuals. It were worth the while then to consider what is paid by, or by means of, the meanest subjects, in order to compute the value of every subject to the prince. "It may be you will, after all, act rather in the prudential way, according to the sense of the ordinary world. I know not what I think or say, when that melancholy reflection comes upon me; but shall For my own part, I should believe that sevenonly add more, that it is in your power to make me eighths of the people are without property in themyour grateful wife, but never your abandoned mis-selves, or the heads of their families, and forced to tress.-T." No. 200.1 FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1711. › Vincit amor patriæ. VIRG. En. vi. 823. The noblest motive is the public good. THE ambition of princes is many times as hurtful to themselves as to their people. This cannot be doubted of such as prove unfortunate in their wars, but it is often true too of those who are celebrated for their succèsses. If a severe view were to be taken of their conduct, if the profit and loss by their wars could be justly balanced, it would be rarely found that the conquest is sufficient to repay the cost. As I was the other day looking over the letters of my correspondents, I took this hint from that of Philarithmus; which has turned my present thoughts upon political arithmetic, an art of greater use than entertainment. My friend has offered an Essay towards proving that Lewis XIV. with all his acquisitions, is not master of more people than at the beginning of his wars; nay, that for every subject he had acquired, he had lost three that were his inheritance. If Philarithmus is not mistaken in his calculations, Lewis must have been impoverished by his ambition. work for their daily bread; and that of this sort there are seven millions in the whole island of Great Britain; and yet one would imagine that seveneighths of the whole people should consume at least three-fourths of the whole fruits of the country." If this is the case, the subjects without property pay three-fourths of the rents, and consequently enable the landed men to pay three-fourths of their taxes. Now if so great a part of the land-tax were to be divided by seven millions, it would amount to more than three shillings to every head. And thus as the poor are the cause, without which the rich could not pay this tax, even the poorest subject is, upon this account, worth three shillings yearly to the prince. Again one would imagine the consumption "of seven-eighths of the whole people should pay twothirds of all the customs and excises, And if this sum too should be divided by seven millions, viz. the number of poor people, it would amount to more than seven shillings to every head; and therefore with this and the former sum, every poor subject, without property, except of his limbs or labour, is worth at least ten shillings yearly to the sovereign. So much then the queen loses with every one of her old, and gains with every one of her new subjects. When I was got into this way of thinking, I presently grew conceited of the argument, and was The prince for the public good has a sovereign just preparing to write a letter of advice to a memproperty in every private person's estate; and con- ber of parliament, for opening the freedom of our sequently his riches must increase or decrease in towns and trades, for taking away all manner of proportion to the number and riches of his subjects. distinctions between the natives and foreigners, for For example; if sword or pestilence should destroy repealing our laws of parish settlements, and reall the people of this metropolis (God forbid there moving every other obstacle to the increase of the should be room for such a supposition! but if this people. But as soon as I had recollected with what should be the case), the queen must needs lose a inimitable eloquence my fellow-labourers had exgreat part of her revenue, or at least what is aggerated the mischiefs of selling the birth-right of charged upon the city must increase the burden Britons for a shilling, of spoiling the pure British upon the rest of her subjects, Perhaps the inha-blood with foreign mixtures, of introducing a conbitants here are not above a tentu part of the whole; yet as they are better fed, and clothed, and lodged, than her other subjects, the customs and excises upon their consumption, the imposts upon their houses, and other taxes, do very probably make a fifth part of the whole revenue of the crown. But this is not all; the consumption of the city takes off a great part of the fruits of the whole island; and as it pays such a proportion of the rent or yearly value of the lands in the country, so it is the cause of paying such a proportion of taxes upon those lands. The loss then of such a people must needs be sensible to the prince, and visible to the whole kingdom. fusion of languages and religions, and of letting in strangers to eat the bread out of the mouths of our own people, I became so humble as to let my project fall to the ground, and leave my country to increase by the ordinary way of generation. As I have always at heart the public good, so I am ever contriving schemes to promote it; and I think I may without vanity pretend to have contrived some as wise as any of the castle-builders. I This is an ironical allusion to some of the popular arguments that had been urged in the year 1708, when a bill was brought in for the naturalization of foreign protestants; which, on account of the 'odium raised against it, did not pass into a law |