Quocunque voient, animum auditoris agunto. As the writers in poetry and fiction borrow their several materials from outward objects, and join them together at their own pleasure, there are others who are obliged to follow nature more closely, and to take entire scenes out of her. Such are historians, natural philosophers, travellers, geographers, and, in a word, all who describe visible objects of a real existence. It is the most agreeable talent of an historian to be able to draw up his armies and fight his battles in proper expressions, to set before our eyes the divisions, cabals, and jealousies of great men, to lead us step by step into the several actions and events of his history. We love to see the subject unfolding itself by just degrees, and breaking upon us insensibly, that so we may be kept in a pleasing suspense, and have time given us to raise our expectations, and to side with one of the parties concerned in the relation. I confess this shows more the art than the veracity of the historian; but I am only to speak of him as he is qualified to please the imagination, and in this respect Livy has, perhaps, excelled all who ever went before him or have written since his time. He describes every thing in so lively a manner, that his whole history is an admirable picture, and touches on such proper circumstances in every story, that his reader becomes a kind of Spectator, and feels in himself all the variety of passions which are correspondent to the several parts of the relation. But among this set of writers there are none who more gratify and enlarge the imagination than the authors of the new philosophy, whether we consider their theories of the earth or heavens, the discoveries they have made by glasses, or any other of their contemplations on nature. We are not a little pleased to find every green leaf swarm with millions of animals, that at their largest growth are not visible to the naked eye. There is something very engaging to the fancy, as well as to our reason, in the treatises of metals, minerals, plants, and meteors. But when we survey the whole earth at once, and the several planets that lie within its neighbourhood, we are filled with a pleasing astonishment, to see so many worlds, hanging one above another, and sliding round their axles in such an amazing pomp and solemnity. If, after this, we contemplate those wild fields of ether, that reach in height as far as from Saturn to the fixed stars, and run abroad almost to an infinitude, our imagination finds its capacity filled with so immense a prospect, and puts itself upon the stretch to comprehend it. But if we yet rise higher, and consider the fixed stars as so many vast oceans of flame, that are each of them attended with a different set of planets, and still discover new firmaments and new lights that are sunk further into those unfathomable depths of ether, so as not to be seen by the strongest of our telescopes, we are lost in such a labyrinth of suns and worlds, and confounded with the immensity and magnifi cence of nature. Nothing is more pleasant to the fancy, than to enlarge itself by degrees, in its contemplation of the various proportions which its several objects bear to each other, when it compares the body of man to the bulk of the whole earth, the earth to the circle it deVide ed, in folio. scribes round the sun, that circle to the sphere of I have dwelt the longer on this subject, because I think it may show us the proper limits, as well as the defectiveness of our imagination; how it is confined to a very small quantity of space, and immediately stopped in its operation, when it endeavours to take in any thing that is very great or very little. Let a man try to conceive the different bulk of an animal, which is twenty, from another which is a hundred times less than a mite, or to compare in his thoughts a length of a thousand diameters of the earth, with that of a million; and he will quickly find that he has no different measures in his mind, adjusted to such extraordinary degrees of grandeur or minuteness. The understanding, indeed, opens an infinite space on every side of us; but the imagination, after a few faint efforts is immediately at a stand, and finds herself swallowed up in the immensity of the void that surrounds it: our reason can pursue a particle of matter through an infinite variety of divisions; but the fancy soon loses sight of it, and feels in itself a kind of chasm, that wants to be filled with matter of a more sensible bulk. We can neither widen nor contract the faculty to the dimensions of either extreme. The object is too big for our capacity, when we would comprehend the circumference of a world; and dwindles into nothing when we endeavour after the idea of an atom. It is possible this defect of imagination may not be in the soul itself, but as it acts in conjunction with the body. Perhaps there may not be room in the brain for such a variety of impressions, or the animal spirits may be incapable of figuring them in such a manner as is necessary to excite so very large or very minute ideas. However it be, we may well suppose that beings of a higher nature very much excel us in this respect, as it is probable the soul of man will be infinitely more perfect heres after in this faculty, as well as in all the rest; insos much that, perhaps, the imagination will be able to keep pace with the understanding, and to form in itself distinct ideas of all the different modes and quantities of space.-O. He sought fresh fountains in a foreign soil; THE pleasures of the imagination are not wholly confined to such particular authors as are conversant in material objects, but are often to be met with among the polite masters of morality, criticism, and other speculations abstracted from matter, who, though they do not directly treat of the visible parts of nature, often draw from them their similitudes, metaphors, and allegories. By these allusions, a truth in the understanding is, as it were, reflected by the imagination; we are able to see something like colour and shape in a notion, and to discover a scheme of thoughts traced out upon matter. And here the mind receives a great deal of satisfaction, and has two of its faculties gratified at the same time, while the fancy is busy in copying after the understanding, and transcribing ideas out of the intellectual world into the material. The great art of a writer shows itself in the choice of pleasing allusions, which are generally to be taken from the great or beautiful works of art or nature; for, though whatever is new or uncommon is apt to delight the imagination, the chief design of an allusion being to illustrate and explain the passages of an author, it should be always borrowed from what is more known and common than the passages which are to be explained. Allegories, when well chosen, are like so many tracks of light in a discourse, that make every thing about them clear and beautiful. A noble metaphor, when it is placed to an advantage, casts a kind of glory round it, and darts a lustre through a whole sentence. These different kinds of allusion are but so many different manners of similitude; and that they may please the imagination, the likeness ought to be very exact or very agreeable, as we love to see a picture where the resemblance is just, or the posture and air graceful. But we often find eminent writers very faulty in this respect: great scholars are apt to fetch their comparisons and allusions from the sciences in which they are most conversant, so that a man may see the compass of their learning in a treatise on the most indifferent subject. I have read a discourse upon love, which none but a profound chymist could understand, and have heard many a sermon that should only have been preached before a congregation of Cartesians. On the contrary, your men of business usually have recourse to such instances as are too mean and familiar. They are for drawing the reader into a game of chess or tennis, or for leading him from shop to shop, in the cant of particular trades and employments. It is certain, there may be found an infinite variety of very agreeable allusions in both these kinds; but, for the generality, the most entertaining ones lie in the works of nature, which are obvious to all, capacities, and more delightful than what is to be found in arts and sciences. It is this talent of affecting the imagination that gives an embellishment to good sense, and makes one man's compositions more agreeable than another's. It sets off all writings in general, but is the very life and highest perfection of poetry. Where it shines in an eminent degree, it has preserved several poems for many ages, that have nothing else to recommend them; and where all the other beauties are present, the work appears dry and insipid, if this single one be wanting. It has something in it like creation. It bestows a kind of existence, and draws up to the reader's view several objects which are not be found in being. It makes additions to nature, and gives a greater variety to God's works. In a word, it is able to beautify and adorn the most illustrious scenes in the universe, or to fill the mind with more glorious shows and apparitions than can be found in any part of it. We have now discovered the several originals of those pleasures that gratify the fancy; and here, perhaps, it would not be very difficult to cast under their proper heads those contrary objects, which are apt to fill it with distaste and terror; for the imagination is as liable to pain as pleasure. When the brain is hurt by any accident, or the mind disordered by dreams or sickness, the fancy is overrum with wild dismal ideas, and terrified with a thousand hideous monsters of its own framing. Eumenidum veluti, demens videt agmina Pentheus, VIRG. Æn, iv. 469 There is not a sight in nature so mortifying as that of a distracted person, when his imagination is troubled, and his whole soul disordered and confused. Babylon in ruins is not so melancholy a spectacle. But to quit so disagreeable a subject, I shall only consider by way of conclusion, what an infinite advantage this faculty gives an Almighty Being over the soul of man, and how great a measure of happiness or misery we are capable of receiving from the imagination only. We have already seen the influence that one man has over the fancy of another, and with what ease he conveys into it a variety of imagery, how great a power then may we suppose lodged in him, who knows all the ways of affecting the imagination, who can infuse what ideas he pleases, and fill those ideas with terror and delight to what degree he thinks fit! He can excite images in the mind without the help of words, and make scenes rise up before us, and seem present to the eye, without the assistance of bodies or exterior objects. He can transport the imagination with such beautiful and glorious visions as cannot possibly enter into our present conceptions, or haunt it with such ghastly spectres and apparitions as would make us hope for annihilation, and think existence no better than a curse. In short, he can so exquisitely ravish or torture the soul through this single faculty, as might and express the satisfaction he has in his own dear self, till he is very ridiculous; but in this case the man is made a fool by his own consent, and not exposed as such whether he will or no. I take it, therefore, that, to make raillery agreeable, a man must either not know he is rallied, or think never the worse of himself if he sees he is. Acetus is of a quite contrary genius, and is more generally admired than Callisthenes, but not with justice. Acetus has no regard to the modesty or weakness of the person he rallies; but if his quality or humility gives him any superiority to the man he would fall upon, he has no mercy in making the onset. He can be pleased to see his best friend out of countenance, while the laugh is loud in his own applause. His raillery always puts the company into little divisions and separate interests, while that of Callisthenes cements it, and makes every man not only better pleased with himself, but also with all the rest in the conversation. I Do not know any thing which gives greater disturbance to conversation, than the false notion some people have of raillery. It ought, certainly, to be the first point to be aimed at in society, to gain the good-will of those with whom you converse: the way to that is, to show you are well inclined towards them. What then can be more absurd than to set up for being extremely sharp To rally well, it is absolutely necessary that and biting, as the term is, in your expressions to kindness must run through all you say; and you your familiars? A man who has no good quality must ever preserve the character of a friend to supbut courage, is in a very ill way towards making port your pretensions to be free with a man. Acetus an agreeable figure in the world, because that which ought to be banished human society, because he he has superior to other people cannot be exerted raises his mirth upon giving pain to the person without raising himself an enemy. Your gentle- upon whom he is pleasant. Nothing but the maleman of a satirical vein is in the like condition. To volence which is too general towards those who say a thing which perplexes the heart of him you excel could make his company tolerated; but they speak to, or brings blushes into his face, is a degree with whom he converses are sure to see some man of murder; and it is, I think, an unpardonable of sacrificed wherever he is admitted; and all the fence to show a man you do not care whether he is credit he has for wit, is owing to the gratification pleased or displeased. But will you not then take it gives to other men's ill-nature a jest?-Yes: but pray let it be a jest. It is no jest to put me, who am so unhappy as to have an utter aversion to speaking to more than one man at a time, under a necessity to explain myself in much company, and reducing me to shame and derision, except I perform what my infirmity of silence disables me to do. Callisthenes has great wit, accompanied with that quality without which a man can have no wit at all Minutius has a wit that conciliates a man's love, at the same time that it is exerted against his faults. He has an art of keeping the person he rallies in countenance, by insinuating that he himself is guilty of the same imperfection. This he does with so much address, that he seems rather to bewail himself, than fall upon his friend. It is really monstrous to see how unaccountably it prevails among men to take the liberty of displeasing sound judgment. This gentleman rallies the each other. One would think sometimes that the best of any man I know; for he forms his ridi- contention is who shall be most disagreeable. Allucule upon a circumstance which you are in your sions to past follies, hints which revive what a man heart not unwilling to grant him; to wit, that you has a mind to forget for ever, and deserves that all are guilty of an excess in something which is in it- the rest of the world should, are commonly brought self laudable. He very well understands what you forth even in company of men of distinction. They would be, and needs not fear your anger for de- do not thrust with the skill of fencers, but cut up claring you are a little too much that thing. The with the barbarity of butchers. It is, methinks, generous will bear being reproached as lavish, and below the character of men of humanity and goodthe valiant as rash, without being provoked to re- manners to be capable of mirth while there is any sentment against their monitor. What has been of the company in pain and disorder. They who said to be a mark of a good writer will fall in with have the true taste of conversation, enjoy themthe character of a good companion. The good wri-selves in a communication of each other's excelter makes his reader better pleased with himself, lencies, and not in a triumph over their imperfec and the agreeable man makes his friends enjoy tions. Fortius would have been reckoned a wit, if themselves, rather than him, while he is in their there had never been a fool in the world; he wants company. Callisthenes does this with inimitable not foils to be a beauty, but has that natural pleapleasantry. He whispered a friend the other day, sure in observing perfection in others, that his own so as to be overheard by a young officer who gave faults are overlooked out of gratitude by all his symptoms of cocking upon the company, "That acquaintance. gentleman has very much of the air of a general officer." The youth immediately put on a composed behaviour, and behaved himself suitably to the conceptions he believed the company had of him. It is to be allowed that Callisthenes will make a man run into impertinent relations to his own advantage, These contents are printed all together in the original folio, at the end of No. 421; but are in this edition arranged in their proper places, and placed at the beginnings of the several papers. After these severa! characters of men who succeed or fail in raillery, it may not be amiss to reflect a little further what one takes to be the most agreeable kind of it; and that to me appears when the satire is directed against vice, with an air of contempt of the fault, but no ill-will to the criminal, Mr. Congreve's Doris is a master-piece in this kind. It is the character of a woman utterly abandoned; but her impudence, by the finest piece of raillery, is made only generosity: T. Peculiar therefore is her way, But who o'ernight obtain'd her grace And stare upon the strange man's face, So well she can the truth disguise, Or thinks 'twas all a dream. Some censure this as lewd or low, No. 423.] SATURDAY, JULY 5, 1712. ------Nuper idoneus-Hox. 3 Od. xxvi. 1. Once fit myself. 2 take to be, that a man's general conduct should be, agreeable, without addressing in particular to the woman he loves. Now, Sir, if you will be so kind" as to sigh and die for Gloriana, I will carry it with great respect towards her, but seem void of any thoughts as a lover. By this means I shall be in the most amiable light of which I am capable ; I shall be received with freedom, you with reserve.", Damon, who has himself no designs of marriage at all, easily fell into the scheme; and you may observe, that wherever you are, Damon appears also. You see he carries on an unaffected exactness in his dress and manner, and strives always to be the very contrary of Strephon. They have already succeeded so far, that your eyes are ever in search of Strephon, and turn themselves of course from Damon. They meet and compare notes upon your carriage; and the letter which was brought to you the other day was a contrivance to remark your resentment. When you saw the billet subscribed Damon, and I LOOK upon myself as a kind of guardian to the turned away with a scornful air, and cried imperfair, and am always watchful to observe any thing tinence!' you gave hopes to him that shuns you, which concerns their interest. The present paper without mortifying him that languishes for you." shall be employed in the service of a very fine young the disposal of your heart you should know what you "What I am concerned for, Madam, is, that in woman; and the admonitions I give her may not be unuseful to the rest of the sex. Gloriana shall are doing, and examine it before it is lost. Strephon be the name of the heroine in to-day's entertain-contradicts you in discourse with the civility of one ment; and when I have told you that she is rich, who has a value for you, but gives up nothing like witty, young, and beautiful, you will believe she one that loves you. This seeming unconcern gives does not want admirers. She has had since she his behaviour the advantage of sincerity, and in came to town about twenty-five of those lovers who sensibly obtains your good opinion by appearing make their addresses by way of jointure and settle- disinterested in the purchase of it. If you watch ment: these come and go with great indifference on these correspondents hereafter, you will find that both sides; and as beauteous as she is, a line in a deed Strephon makes his visit of civility immediately after has had exception enough against it, to outweigh Damon has tired you with one of love. Though you the lustre of her eyes, the readiness of her under- are very discreet, you will find it no easy matter to standing, and the merit of her general character. escape the toils so well laid: as, when one studies But among the crowd of such cool adorers, she has to be disagreeable in passion, the other to be pleasing two who are very assiduous in their attendance. without it. All the turns of your temper are careThere is something so extraordinary and artful in fully watched, and their quick and faithful intellitheir manner of application, that I think it but com- gence gives your lovers irresistible advantage. You mon justice to alarm her in it. I have done it in will please, Madam, to be upon your guard, and the following letter:take all the necessary precautions against one who is amiable to you before you know he is enamoured, "I am, Madam, your most obedient Servant." "MADAM, Strephon makes great progress in this lady's good graces; for most women being actuated by some little spirit of pride and contradiction, he has the good effects of both those motives by this covert way of courtship. He received a message yesterday from Damon in the following words, superscribed "With speed." "Yours." "I have for some time taken notice of two gentlemen who attend you in all public places, both of whom have also easy access to you at your own house. But the matter is adjusted between them; and Damon, who so passionately addresses you, has no design upon you; but Strephon, who seems to be indifferent to you, is the man who is, as they have settled it, to have you. The plot was laid over a bottle of wine; and Strephon, when he first thought| of you, proposed to Damon to be his rival. The dare say hates me in earnest. It is a good time to "All goes well: she is very angry at me, and I manter of his breaking of it to him, I was so placed visit. at a tavern, that I could not avoid hearing. Damon," said he, with a deep sigh, I have long lan- The comparison of Strephon's gaiety to Damon's guished for that miracle of beauty, Gloriana: and languishment strikes her imagination with a prosif you will be very steadfastly my rival, I shall cer- pect of very agreeable hours with such a man as the tainly obtain her. Do not,' continued he, be former, and abhorrence of the insipid prospect with offended at this overture; for I go upon the know-one like the latter. To know when a lady is disledge of the temper of the woman, rather than any pleased with another, is to know the best time of vanity that I should profit by an opposition of your advancing yourself. This method of two persons pretensions to those of your humble servant. Glo- playing into each other's hand is so dangerous, that riana has very good sense, a quick relish of the sa-I cannot tell how a woman could be able to withtisfactions of life, and will not give herself, as the crowd of women do, to the arms of a man to whom she is indifferent. As she is a sensible woman, expressions of rapture and adoration will not move her neither: but he that has her must be the object of her desire, not her pity. The way to this end I stand such a siege. The condition of Gloriana I am afraid is irretrievable; for Strephon has had so many opportunities of pleasing without suspicion, that all which is left for her to do is to bring him, now she is advised, to an explanation of his passion, and beginning again, if she can conquer the kind sentiments she has already conceived for him. When one shows himself a creature to be avoided, the other proper to be fled to for suecour, they have the whole woman between them, and can occasionally rebound her love and hatred from one to the other, in such a manner as to keep her at a distance from all the rest of the world, and cast lots for the conquest. N. B. I have many other secrets which concern the empire of love; but I consider, that, while I alarm my women, I instruct my men.-T. almost persuaded to believe the contrary; for how can we suppose people should be so industrious to make themselves uneasy? What can engage them to entertain and foment jealousies of one another upon every the least occasion? Yet so it is, there are people who (as it should seem) delight in being troublesome and vexatious, who (as Tully speaks) mirâ sunt alacritate ad litigandum, have a certain cheerfulness in wrangling.' And thus it happens, that there are very few families in which there are not feuds and animosities, though it is every one's interest, there more particularly, to avoid them, because there (as I would willingly hope) no one gives another uneasiness without feeling some share of it. -But I am gone beyond what I designed, and had almost forgot what I chiefly proposed; which was, barely to tell you how hardly we, who pass most of our time in town, dispense with a long vacation in the country; how uneasy we grow to ourselves, and to one another, when our conversation is confined; insomuch that, by Michaelmas, it is odds but we come to downright squabbling, and make as free with one another to our faces as we do with the rest of the world behind their backs. After I have told you this, I am to desire that you would now and then give us a lesson of good-humour, a family-piece, which, since we are all very fond of you, I hope may have some influence upon us. "A MAN who has it in his power to choose his own company, would certainly be much to blame, should he not, to the best of his judgment, take such as are of a temper most suitable to his own; and where that choice is wanting, or where a man is mistaken in his choice, and yet under a necessity of continuing in the same company, it will certainly be his interest to carry himself as easily as possible. "In this I am sensible I do but repeat what has "After these plain observations, give me leave to been said a thousand times, at which, however, I give you a hint of what a set of company of my acthink nobody has any title to take exception, but quaintance, who are now gone into the country, and they who never failed to put this in practice. Not have the use of an absent nobleman's seat, have to use any longer preface, this being the season of settled among themselves, to avoid the inconve the year in which great numbers of all sorts of niences above mentioned. They are a collection of people retire from this place of business and plea- ten or twelve, of the same good inclination towards sure to country solitude, I think it not improper to each other, but of very different talents and inclinaadvise them to take with them as great a stock of tions; from hence they hope that the variety of their good humour as they can; for though a country life tempers will only create variety of pleasures. But is described as the most pleasant of all others, and as there always will arise, among the same people, though it may inath be so, yet it is so only to either for want of diversity of objects, or the like those who know how to enjoy leisure and retirement. causes, a certain satiety, which may grow into ill"As for those who cannot live without the con-humour or discontent, there is a large wing of the stant helps of business or company, let them con-house which they design to employ in the nature of sider, that in the country there is no Exchange, an infirmary. Whoever says a peevish thing, or there are no playhouses, no variety of coffee-houses, nor many of those other amusements which serve hete as so many reliefs from the repeated occurrences in their own families; but that there the greatest part of their time must be spent within themselves, and consequently it behoves them to consider how agreeable it will be to them before they leave this dear town. "I remember, Mr. Spectator, we were very well entertained last year, with the advices you gave us from Sir Roger's country-seat; which I the rather mention, because it is almost impossible not to live pleasantly, where the master of a family is such a one as you there describe your friend, who cannot therefore (I mean as to his domestic character) be too often recommended to the imitation of others. How amiable is that affability and benevolence with which he treats his neighbours, and every one, even the meanest of his own family! and yet how seldom imitated! Instead of which we commonly meet with ill-natured expostulations, noise, and chidings And this I hinted, because the humour and disposition of the head is what chiefly influences all the other parts of a family. "An agreement and kind correspondence between friends and acquaintance is the greatest pleasure of life. This is an undoubted truth; and yet any man who judges from the practice of the world will be acts any thing which betrays a sourness or indisposition to company, is immediately to be conveyed to his chambers in the infirmary; from whence he is not to be relieved, till by his manner of submission, and the sentiments expressed in his petition for that purpose, he appears to the majority of the company to be again fit for society. You are to understand, that all ill-natured words or uneasy gestures are sufficient cause for banishment; speaking impatiently to servants, making a man repeat what he says, or any thing that betrays inattention or dishumour, are also criminal without reprieve. But it is provided, that whoever observes the ill-natured fit coming upon himself, and voluntarily retires, shall be received at his return from the infirmary with the highest marks of esteem. By these and other wholesome methods, it is expected that, if they cannot cure one another, yet at least they have taken care that the ill-humour of one shall not be troublesome to the rest of the company. There are many other rules which the society have established for the preservation of their ease and tranquillity, the effects of which, with the incidents that arise among them, shall be communicated to you from time to time, for the public good, by T. "Sir, your most humble Servant, "R. O." |