Visu carentem magna pars veri latet.—SENECA in Edip. Ir is very reasonable to believe, that part of the pleasure which happy minds shall enjoy in a future state, will arise from an enlarged contemplation of and a discovering of the secret and amazing steps the Divine Wisdom in the government of the world, nacy that the most masculine disposition need be No. 237.] SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1711. ashamed of; could you satisfy them of the generosity of voluntary civility, and the greatness of soul that is conspicuous in benevolence without immediate obligations; could you recommend to people's practice the saying of the gentleman quoted in one of your speculations, That he thought it incumbent upon him to make the inclinations of a woman of merit go along with her duty;' could you, I say, persuade these men of the beauty and reasonableness of this sort of behaviour, I have so much cha-of Providence, from the beginning to the end of rity, for some of them at least, to believe you would convince them of a thing they are only ashamed to allow. Besides, you would recommend that state in its truest, and consequently its most agreeable colours; and the gentlemen, who have for any time been such professed enemies to it, when occasion should serve, would return you their thanks for assisting their interest in prevailing over their prejudices. Marriage in general would by this means be a more easy and comfortable condition; the husband would be no where so well satisfied as in his the punishment of such as are excluded from bliss, It is not impossible, on the contrary, that part of own parlour, nor the wife so pleasant as in the company of her husband. A desire of being agree-vilege, but in having their appetites at the same time may consist not only in their being denied this pri able in the lover would be increased in the husband, and the mistress be more amiable by becoming the wife. Besides all which, I am apt to believe we should find the race of men grow wiser as their progenitors grew kinder, and the affection of their parents would be conspicuous in the wisdom of their children; in short, men would in general be much better humoured than they are, did they not so frequently exercise the worst turns of their temper where they ought to exert the best." “MR. SPECTATOR, "I am a woman who left the admiration of this whole town to throw myself (for love of wealth) into the arms of a fool. When I married him, I could have had any one of several men of sense who languished for me; but my case is just. I believed my superior understanding would form him into a tractable creature. But, alas! my spouse has cunning and suspicion, the inseparable companions of little minds; and every attempt I make to divert, by putting on an agreeable air, a sudden cheerfulness, or kind behaviour, he looks upon as the first act towards an insurrection against his undeserved dominion over me. Let every one who is still to choose, and hopes to govern a fool, remember "TRISTISSA." I "MR. SPECTATOR, St. Martin's, Nov. 25. “This is to complain of an evil practice which think very well deserves a redress, though you have not as yet taken any notice of it; if you mention it in your paper, it may perhaps have a very good effect. What I mean is, the disturbance some people give to others at church, by their repetition of the prayers after the minister; and that not only in the prayers, but also in the absolution; and the commandments fare no better, which are in a partcalar manner the priest's office: this I have known done in so audible a manner, that sometimes their voices have been as loud as his. As little as you would think it, this is frequently done by people seemingly devout. This irreligious inadvertency is a thing extremely offensive: but I do not recommend it as a thing I give you liberty to ridicule, but hope it may be amended by the bare mention. 254 Sir, your very humble Servant, "T. S." Τ. time. Nothing seems to be an entertainment more adapted to the nature of man, if we consider that curiosity is one of the strongest and most lasting appetites implanted in us, and that admiration is one of our most pleasing passions; and what a perpetual succession of enjoyments will be afforded to then be laid open to our view in the society of suboth these, in a scene so large and various as shall perior spirits, who perhaps will join with us in so delightful a prospect! vastly increased without any satisfaction afforded to them. In these, the vain pursuit of knowledge shall, perhaps, add to their infelicity, and bewilder them into labyrinths of error, darkness, distraction, and uncertainty of every thing but their own evil state. Milton has thus represented the fallen angels reasoning together in a kind of respite from their amidst their very amusements: he could not protorments, and creating to themselves a new disquiet perly have described the sport of condemned spirits, without that cast of horror and melancholy he has so judiciously mingled with them! Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high In our present condition, which is a middle state, falsehood: and as our faculties are narrow, and our our minds are as it were checkered with truth and views imperfect, it is impossible but our curiosity mankind in this life being rather to act than to must meet with many repulses. The business of know, their portion of knowlege is dealt to them accordingly. From hence it is, that the reason of the inquisitive has so long been exercised with difficulties, in accounting for the promiscuous distribution of good and evil to the virtuous and the wicked in this world. From hence come all those pathetic complaints of so many tragical events which happen to perity, which is often the lott of the guilty and the the wise and the good; and of such surprising prosfoolish; that reason is sometimes puzzled, and at a loss what to pronounce upon so mysterious a dispensation. the poets, which seem to reflect on the gods as the * Parad. Lost, b. ii. v. 557. a discourse purposely on this subject in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the Stoles, to show that adversity is not in itself an evil; and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, that "nothing would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction." He compares prosperity to the indul gence of a fond mother to a child, which often proves his ruin; but the affection of the Divine Being to that of a wise father, who would have his sons exercised with labour, disappointments, and pain, that they may gather strength and improve their fortitude. On this occasion, the philosopher rises into that celebrated sentiment, that there is not on earth a spectacle more worthy the regard of a Creator intent on his works than a brave man superior to his sufferings: to which he adds, that it must be a pleasure to Jupiter himself to look down from heaven, and see Cato amidst the ruins of his country preserving his integrity. This thought will appear yet more reasonable, if we consider human life as a state of probation, and adversity as the post of honour in it, assigned often to the best and most select spirits. But what I would chiefly insist on here is, that we are not at present in a proper situation to judge of the councils by which Providence acts, since but little arrives at our knowledge, and even that little we discern imperfectly; or according to the elegant figure in holy writ, "we see but in part, and as in a glass darkly."+ It is to be considered that Providence in its economy regards the whole system of time and things together, so that we cannot discover the beautiful connexion between incidents which lie widely separate in time; and by losing so many links of the chain, our reasonings become broken and imperfect. Thus those parts of the moral world which have not an absolute, may yet have a relative beauty, in respect of some other parts concealed from us, but open to his eye before whom "past," "present," and "to come," are set together in one point of view: and those events, the permission of which seems now to accuse his goodness, may in the consummation of things both magnify his goodness, and exalt his wisdom. And this is enough to check our presumption, since it is in vain to apply our measures of regularity to matters of which we know neither the antecedents nor the consequents, the beginning nor the end. I shall relieve my readers from this abstracted thought, by relating here a Jewish tradition concerning Moses, which seems to be a kind of parable, illustrating what I have last mentioned. That great prophet, it is said, was called up by a voice from heaven to the top of a mountain; where, in a conference with the Supreme Being, he was admitted to propose to him some questions concerning his search for it, and demands it of the old man, who affirms he had not seen it, and appeals to Heaven in witness of his innocence. The soldier, not believing his protestations, kills him. Moses fell on his face with horror and amazement, when the Divine voice thus prevented his expostulation: "Be not surprised, Moses, nor ask why the Judge of the whole earth has suffered this thing to come to pass. The child is the occasion that the blood of the old man is spilt; but know that the old man whom thou sawest was the murderer of that child's father." AMONG all the diseases of the mind, there is not one more epidemical or more pernicious than the love of flattery. For as where the juices of the body are prepared to receive the malignant infuence, there the disease rages with most violence; so in this distemper of the mind, where there is evet a propensity and inclination to suck in the poison, it cannot be but that the whole order of reasonable action must be overturned; for, like music, it So softens and disarms the mind, of others is sure of success. and low a principle this passion is derived, there But were every man persuaded from how mean can be no doubt that the person who should attempt to gratify it, would then be as contemptible as he is are not possessed of, or inclination to be something now successful. It is the desire of some quality we we are not, which are the causes of our giving ourselves up to that man who bestows upon us the characters and qualities of others; which perhaps suit us as ill, and were as little designed for our wearing, as their clothes. Instead of going out of it were a better and more laudable industry to imour own complexional nature into that of others, prove our own, and instead of a miserable copy bedisposition, so rude and untractable, but may in its come a good original; for there is no temper, na soldier alighted from his horse to drink. He was agreeable use in conversation, or in the affairs of own peculiar cast and turn be brought to some no sooner gone than a little boy came to the same life. A person of a rougher deportment, and les place, and finding a purse of gold which the soldier tied up to the usual ceremonies of behaviour, will, had dropped, took it up and went away with it. Im-like Manly in the play, please by the grace which mediately after this came an infirm old man, weary with age and travelling, and having quenched his thirst, sat down to rest himself by the side of the spring. The soldier missing his purse returns to administration of the universe. In the midst of this divine colloquy he was commanded to look down on the plain below. At the foot of the mountain there issued out a clear spring of water, at which a • Vid. Senec. "De constantia sapientis, sive quod in sapientem non cadit injuria." t1 Cor. xiii. 12. Nature gives to every action wherein she is complied with; the brisk and lively will not want their adtemper may at some times be agreeable psd s mirers, and even a more reserved and melancholy When there is not vanity enough awake in a man to undo him, the flatterer stirs up that dormant weak Wycherley's comedy of the Plain Dealer. ness and inspires him with merit enough to be a coxcomb. But if flattery be the most sordid act that can be complied with, the art of praising justly is as commendable; for it is laudable to praise well; as poets at one and the same time give immortality, and receive it themselves as a reward. Both are pleased: the one whilst he receives the recompense of merit, the other whilst he shows he knows how to discern it; but above all, that man is happy in this art, who, like a skilful painter, retains the features and complexion, but still softens the picture into the most agreeable likeness. There can hardly, I believe, be imagined a more desirable pleasure, than that of praise unmixed with any possibility of flattery. Such was that which Germanicus enjoyed, when, the night before a battle, desirous of some sincere mark of the esteem of his legions for him, he is described by Tacitus listening in a disguise to the discourse of a soldier, and wrapped up in the fruition of his glory, whilst with an undesigned sincerity they praised his noble and majestic mien, his affability, his valour, conduct, and success in war. How must a man have his heart full-blown with joy in such an article of glory as this? What a spur and encouragement still to proceed in those steps which had already brought him to so pure a taste of the greatest of mortal enjoyments? fion of letters which pass under the name of Arista netus. Of all the remains of antiquity, I believe there can be nothing produced of an air so gallant and polite; each letter contains a little novel or adventure, which is told with all the beauties of lan guage, and heightened with a luxuriance of wit. There are several of them translated; but with such wide deviations from the original, and inva style so far differing from the author's, that the translator seems rather to have taken hints for the expressing his own sense and thoughts, than to have endeavoured to render those of Aristænetus. In the following translation, I have kept as near the meaning of the Greek as I could, and have only added a few words to make the sentences in Engush sit together a little better than they would other wise have done. The story seems to be taken from that of Pygmalion and the statue of Ovid: some of the thoughts are of the same turn, and the whole is written in a kind of poetical prose." "PHILOPINAX TO CHROMATION. "Never was a man more overcome with so fantastical a passion as mine: I have painted a beautiful woman, and am despairing, dying for the picture. My own skill has undone me; it is not the dart of Venus, but my own pencil has thus wounded me. Ah, me! with what anxiety am I necessitated It sometones happens that even enemies and en- to adore my own idol! How miserable am I, whilst vious persons bestow the sincerest marks of esteem every one must as much pity the painter as he when they least design it. Such afford a greater praises the picture, and own my torment more than pleasure, as extorted by merit, and freed from all equal to my art! But why do I thus complain? suspicion of favour or flattery. Thus it is with Mal-Have there not been more unhappy and unnatural volio: he has wit, learning, and discernment, but tempered with an allay of envy, self-love, and detraction. Malvolio turns pale at the mirth and good bumour of the company, if it centre not in his person; he grows jealous and displeased when he ceases to be the only person admired, and looks upon the commendations paid to another as a detraction from his merit, and an attempt to lessen the superiority he affects; but by this very method, he bestows such praise as can never be suspected of flattery. His uneasiness and distaste are so many sure and certain signs of another's title to that glory he desires, and has the mortification to find himself not possessed of, passions than mine? Yes, I have seen the repre. sentations of Phædra, Narcissus, and Pasiphae Phædra was unhappy in her love; that of Pasiphat was monstrous; and whilst the other caught at his beloved likeness, he destroyed the watery image, which ever eluded his embraces. The fountain re presented Narcissus to himself, and the picture both that and him thirsting after his adored image. But I am yet less unhappy, I enjoy her presence continually, and if I touch her, I destroy not the beauteous form, but she looks pleased, and a sweet smile sits in the charming space which divides her lips. One would swear that voice and speech were issuing out, and that one's ears felt the melodious sound. How often have I, deceived by a lover's credulity, hearkened if she had not something to whisper me! and when frustrated of my hopes, how often have I taken my revenge in kisses from her cheeks and eyes, and softly wooed her to my embrace, whilst she (as to me it seemed) only with A geheld her tongue the more to inflame me. But, madman that I am, shall I be thus taken with the representation only of a beauteous face, and flowing hair, and thus waste myself and melt to tears for a shadow? Ah, sure it is something more, it is a reality; for see her beauties shine out with new lustre, and she seems to upbraid me with unkind reproaches. Oh, may I have a living mistress of this form, that when I shall compare the work of nature with that of art, I may be still at a loss which to choose, and be long perplexed with the pleasing uncertainty!"-T. A good name is fitly compared to a precious ointment, and when we are praised with skill and decency, it is indeed the most agreeable perfume; but if too strongly admitted into the brain of a less vigorous and happy texture, it will, like too strong an odour, overcome the senses, and prove pernicious to those nerves it was intended to refresh. nerous mind is of all others the most sensible of praise and dispraise; and a noble spirit is as much invigorated with its due proportion of honour and applause, as it is depressed by neglect and contempt. But it is only persons far above the common level who are thus affected with either of these extremes, as in a thermometer, it is only the purest and most sublimated spirit that is either contracted or dilated by the benignity or inclemency of the season. MR. SPECTATOR, The translations which you have lately given us from the Greek, in some of your last papers, have been the occasion of my looking into some of those authors, among whom I chanced on a collect Ecelos. vii. 1, By Tom Brown and others. See his Works, 4 vols. 12mo, J POLISI 98 8 1 NHL 70 100% $1, No. 239.1 TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4, 1711. Bella, horrida bella!-VIRO. EN. vi. 86. blows and buffets that he never forgot their hostili. ties to his dying day. I HAVE sometimes amused myself with consider-dred thousand disputants on each side, and convince ing the several methods of managing a debate which have obtained in the world. The first races of mankind used to dispute, as our ordinary people do now-a-day, in a kind of wild logic, uncultivated by rules of art. Socrates introduced a catechetical method of arguing. He would ask his adversary question upon question, until he had convinced him out of his own mouth, that his opinions were wrong. This way of debating drives an enemy up into a corner, seizes all the passes through which he can make an escape, and forces him to surrender at discretion. Aristotle changed this method of attack, and invented a great variety of little weapons, called So The universities of Europe, for many years, carried on their debates by syllogism, insomuch that we see the knowledge of several centuries laid out into objections and answers, and all the good sense of the age cut and minced into almost an infinitude of distinctions. When our universities found there was no end of wrangling this way, they invented a kind of argument, which is not reducible to any mood or figure in Aristotle. It was called the Argumentum Basilinum (others write it Bacilinum or Baculinum), which is pretty well expressed in our English word club-law. When they were not able to confute their antagonist, they knocked him down. It was their method, in these polemical debates, first to discharge their syllogisms, and afterward to betake themselves to their clubs, until such time as they had one way or other confounded their gainsayers. There is in Oxford a narrow defile (to make use of a military term) where the partisans used to enccunter; for which reason it still retains the name of Logic-lane. I have heard an old gentleman, a physician, make his boasts, that when he was a young fellow he marched several times at the head of a troop of Scotists, and cudgelled a body of Smiglesians,+ half the length of High-street, until they had dispersed themselves for shelter into their respective garrisons. There is a way of managing an argument not much unlike the former, which is made use of by states and communities, when they draw up a hunone another by dint of sword. A certain grand monarch was so sensible of his strength in this way of reasoning, that he writ upon his great guns Ratio ultima regum, "The logic of kings;" but, God be thanked, he is now pretty well baffled at his sopher of this kind, one should remember the old own weapons. When one has to do with a philogentleman's saying, who had been engaged in an argument with one of the Roman emperors.† Upon his friends telling him that he wondered he would give up the question, when he had visibly the better of the dispute; "I am never ashamed," says he, "to be confuted by one who is master of fifty legions." which may be called arguing by poll; and another, ture. But the most notable way of managing a controversy, is that which we may call arguing by tormade use of with the poor refugees, and which was This is a method of reasoning which has been so fashionable in our country during the reign of Queen Mary, that in a passage of an author quoted by Monsieur Bayle, it is said the price of wood was were made in Smithfield. These disputants conraised in England, by reason of the executions that vince their adversaries with a sorites. commonly called a pile of faggots. The rack is also a kind of syllogism which has been used with good effect, and has made multitudes of converts. Men were formerly disputed out of their doubts, reconciled to truth by force of reason, and won over to opinions by the candour, sense, and ingenuity of those who had the right on their side; but this method of con viction operated too slowly. Pain was found to be much more enlightening than reason. Every scruple was looked upon as obstinacy, and not to be re moved but by engines invented for that purpose, In a word, the application of whips, racks, gibbets, he looked upon as popish refinements upon the old galleys, dungeons, fire and faggot, in a dispute, may heathen logic. fails, though it be of a quite different nature to that There is another way of reasoning which seldom I have last mentioned. I mean, convincing a man by ready money, or as it is ordinarily called, bribing This humour, I find, went very far in Erasmus's successful, when all the others have been made use a man to an opinion. This method has often proved time. For that author tells us, that upon the re- of to no purpose. A man who is furnished with arvival of Greek letters, most of the universities in guments from the mint, will convince his antago Europe were divided into Greeks and Trojans.nist much sooner than one who draws them from The latter were those who bore a mortal enmity to the language of the Grecians, insomuch that if they met with any who understood it, they did not fail to treat him as a foe. Erasmus himself had, it seems, the misfortune to fall into the hands of a party of Trojans, who laid him on with so many of the understanding; it dissipates every doubt reason and philosophy. Gold is a wonderful clearer and scruple in an instant; accommodates itself to the meanest capacities; silences the loud and clamorous, and brings over the most obstinate and in • Lewis XIV. of France. Bayle's Dict.-The Spectator's memory deceived him in ap- A sorites is a heap of propositions thrown together flexible. Philip of Macedon was a man of most invincible reason this way. He refuted by it all the wisdom of Athens, confounded their statesmen, struck their orators dumb, and at length argued them out of all their liberties. Having here touched upon the several methods of disputing, as they have prevailed in different ages of the world, I shall very suddenly give my reader an account of the whole art of cavilling; which shall be a full and satisfactory answer to all such papers and pamphlets as have yet appeared against the Spectator.-C. estate, and live as the rest of my neighbours with great hospitality. I have been ever reckoned among the ladies the best company in the world, and have access as a sort of favourite. I never came in public but I saluted them, though in great assemblies, all around; where it was seen how genteelly I avoided hampering my spurs in their petticoats, whilst I moved amongst them; and on the other side how prettily they curtsied and received me, standing in proper rows, and advancing as fast as they saw their elders, or their betters, dispatched by me. But so it is, Mr. Spectator, that all our good breeding is of late lost by the unhappy arrival of a courtier, or town gentleman, who came lately No. 240.] WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1711. among us. This person whenever he came into a -Aliter non fit, Avite, liber.-MART. Ep. i. 17. “MR. SPECTATOR, "I AM one of the most genteel trades in the city, and understand thus much of liberal education, as to have an ardent ambition of being useful to mankind, and to think that the chief end of being, as to this life. I had these good impressions given me from the handsome behaviour of a learned, generous, and wealthy man towards me, when I first began the world. Some dissatisfaction between me and my parents made me enter into it with less relish of business than I ought; and to turn off this uneasiness, I gave myself to criminal pleasures, some excesses, and a general loose conduct. I know not what the excellent man above mentioned saw in me, but he descended from the superiority of his wisdom and merit to throw himself frequently into my company. This made me soon hope that I had something in me worth cultivating, and his conversation made me sensible of satisfactions in a regular way, which I had never before imagined. When he was grown familiar with me, he opened himself like a good angel, and told me he had long laboured to ripen me into a preparation to receive his friendship and advice, both which I should daily command, and the use of any part of his fortune, to apply the measures he should propose to me, for the improvement of my own. I assure you, I can not recollect the goodness and confusion of the good man when he spoke to this purpose to me, without melting into tears: but in a word, Sir, I must hasten to tell you, that my heart burns with gratitude towards him, and he is so happy a man, that it can never be in my power to return him his favours in kind, but I am sure I have made him the most agreeable satisfaction I could possibly, in being ready to serve others to my utmost ability, as far as is consistent with the prudence he prescribes to me. Dear Mr. Spectator, I do not owe to him only the good-will and esteem of my own relations (who are people of distinction), the present ease and plenty of my circumstances; but also the government of my passions, and regulation of my desires. I doubt not, Sir, but in your imagination such virtues as these of my worthy friend, bear as great a figure as actions which are more glittering in the common estimation. What I would ask of you, is to give us a whole Spectator upon heroic virtue in common life, which may incite men to the same generous inclinations, as have by this admirable person been shown to, and raised in; "Sir, your most humble Servant.” As "MR. SPECTATOR, room made a profound bow, and fell back, then recovered with a soft air, and made a bow to the next, and so to one or two more, and then took the gross of the room, by passing them in a continual bow until he arrived at the person he thought proper particularly to entertain. This he did with so good a grace and assurance, that it is taken for the present fashion; and there is no young gentlewoman within several miles of this place has been kissed ever since his first appearance amongst us. We country gentlemen cannot begin again and learn these fine and reserved airs; and our conversation is at a stand, until we have your judgment for or against kissing by way of civility or salutation; which is impatiently expected by your friends of both sexes, but by none so much as "Your humble Servant, "MR. SPECTATOR, "RUSTIC SPRIGHTLY." December 3, 1711. pected to hear your famous trunk-maker, but was "I was the other night at Philaster, where I exunhappily disappointed of his company, and saw another person who had the like ambition to dis tinguish himself in a noisy manner, partly by vocia feration or talking loud, and partly by his bodily agility. This was a very lusty fellow, but withal a sort of beau, who getting into one of the side boxes on the stage before the curtain drew, was disposed to show the whole audience his activity by leaping over the spikes; he passed from thence to one of the entering doors, where he took snuff with a to lerable good grace, displayed his fine clothes, made two or three feint passes at the curtain with his cane, then faced about and appeared at t'other door. Here he affected to survey the whole house; bowed and smiled at random, and then showed his teeth, which were some of them indeed very white. After this, he retired behind the curtain, and ob liged us with several views of his person from every opening. in the prince's apartment, made one at the hunting"During the time of acting he appeared frequently match, and was very forward in the rebellion.* If there were no injunctions to the contrary, yet this practice must be confessed to diminish the pleasure of the audience, and for that reason to be presumptuous and unwarrantable; but since her majesty's late command has made it criminal,† you have authority to take notice of it. T. Sir, your bumble Servant, Different scenes in the play of Philaster. ↑ In the playbills about this time there was this clause, "By her majesty's command no person is to l admitted be "I am a country gentleman, of a good plentiful hind the scenes. SPECTATOR, Nos. 35 & 36. |
