Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

SOME

No XXXVII. THURSDAY, APRIL 12.

NON ILLA COLO CALATHISVE MINERVE

FOEMINEAS ASSUETA MANUS

VIRG. ÆN. VII. 805.

UNBRED TO SPINNING, IN THE LOOM UNSKILL'D.

OME months ago, my friend Sir Roger, being in the country, inclofed a letter to me, directed to a certain lady whom I fhall here call by the name of Leonora, and, as it contained matters of confequence, defired me to deliver it to her with my own hand. Accordingly I waited upon her ladyship pretty early in the morning, and was defired by her woman to walk into her lady's library, till fuch time as fhe was in a readiness to receive me. The very found of a lady's library gave me a great curiofity to fee it; and as it was fome time before the lady came to me, I had an opportunity of turning over a great many of her books, which were ranged together in a very beautiful order. At the end of the folios, which were finely bound and gilt, were great jars of china placed one above another in a very noble piece of architecture. The quartos were feparated from the octavos by a pile of fmaller veffels, which rofe in a delightful pyramid. The octavos were bounded by tea-dishes of all shapes, colours, and fizes, which were fo difpofed on a wooden frame, that they looked like one continued pillar indented with the finest strokes of fculpture, and stained with the greateft variety of dyes. That part of the library which was defigned for the reception of plays and pamphlets, and other loofe papers, was inclofed in a kind of square, confisting of one of the prettiest grotefque works that ever I faw, and made up of fcaramouches, lions, monkies, mandarines, trees, fhells, and a thousand other odd figures in China-ware. In the midft of the room was a little Japan-table, with a quire of gilt paper upon it, and on the paper a filver fnuff-box made in the fhape of a little book. I found there were feveral other counterfeit books upon the upper fhelves, which were carved in wood, and ferved only to fill up the Rumber like faggots in the mufter of a regiment. I was wonderfully pleafed

DRYDEN.

with fuch a mixt kind of furniture, as
feemed very fuitable both to the lady
and the fcholar, and did not know at
first whether I should fancy myself in a
grotto, or in a library.

Upon my looking into the books, I
found there were fome few which the
lady had bought for her own ufe, but
that most of them had been got together,
either becaufe fhe had heard them praif-
ed, or becaufe fhe had feen the authors
of them. Among feveral that I exa-
mined, I very well rembember thefe
that follow:

Ogilby's Virgil.
Dryden's Juvenal.
Caffandra.
Cleopatra.
Aftræa.

Sir Ifaac Newton's Works.
The Grand Cyrus; with a pin ftuck
in one of the middle leaves.

Pembroke's Arcadia.
Locke of Human Understanding; with
a paper of patches in it.
A Spelling Book,

A Dictionary for the Explanation of
Hard Words.

Sherlock upon Death.

The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony.
Sir William Temple's Effays.
Father Malebranche's Search after
Truth, tranflated into English.
A Book of Novels.
The Academy of Compliments.
Culpepper's Midwifery.
The Ladies Calling.

Tales in Verfe, by Mr. Duy:
bound in red leather, gilt on the back,
and doubled down in feveral places.

All the Claffic Authors in wood.
A fet of Elzevirs by the fame hand.
Clelia: which opened of itself in the
place that defcribes two lovers in a
bower.

Baker's Chronicle.
Advice to a Daughter.
The New Atalantis, with a Key to it.
Mr.

K 2

[ocr errors]

Mr. Steele's Chriftian Hero.

artificial grottos covered with wood

A Prayer Book; with a bottle of bines and jeffamines. The woods are

Hungary water by the fide of it.

Dr. Sacheverell's Speech.
Fielding's Trial.
Seneca's Morals.

Taylor's Holy Living and Dying. La Ferte's Inftructions for Country Dances.

I was taking a catalogue in my pocketbook of these, and feveral other authors, when Leonora entered, and upon my prefenting her with the letter from the knight, told me, with an unfpeakable grace, that the hoped Sir Roger was in good health: I anfwered, Yes, for I hate long fpeeches, and after a bow or two retired.

Leonora was formerly a celebrated beauty, and is ftill a very lovely woman. She has been a widow for two or three years, and, being unfortunate in her first marriage, has taken a refolution never to venture upon a fecond. She has no children to take care of, and leaves the management of her eftate to my good friend Sir Roger. But as the mind naturally finks into a kind of lethargy, and falls afleep, that is not agitated by fome favourite pleafures and purfuits, Leonora has turned all the paffions of her fex into a love of books and retirement. She converfes chiefly with men, as he has often faid herself, but it is only in their writings; and admits of very few male vilitants, except my friend Sir Roger, whom the hears with great pleafure, and without fcandal. As her reading has lain very much among romances, it has given her a very particular turn of thinking, and difcovers itfelf even in her house, her gardens, and her furniture. Sir Roger has entertained me an hour together with a defcription of her country-feat, which is fituated in a kind of wilderness, about an hundred miles diftant from London, and looks like a little inchanted palace. The rocks about her are shaped into

cut into fhady walks, twisted into bowers, and filled with cages of turtles. The fprings are made to run among pebbles, and by that means taught to murmur very agreeably. They are likewife collected into a beautiful lake, that is inhabited by a couple of fwans, and empties itfelf by a little rivulet which runs through a green meadow, and is known in the family by the name of The Purling Stream. The knight likewife tells me, that this lady preferves her game better than any of the gentlemen in the country; Not, fays Sir Roger, that the fets fo great a value. upon her partridges and pheasants, as upon her larks and nightingales. For The fays that every bird which is killed in her ground, will fpoil a concert, and that the fhall certainly mifs him the next year.'

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

When I think how oddly this lady is improved by learning, I look upon her with a mixture of admiration and pity. Amidst thefe innocent entertainments which he has formed to herself, how much more valuable does the appear than thofe of her fex, who employ themfelves in diverfions that are lefs reafonable, though more in fashion? What improvements would a woman have made, who is fo fufceptible of impreffions from what the reads, had he been guided to fuch books as have a tendency to enlighten the understanding and rectify the paffions, as well as to thofe which are of little more ufe than to divert the imagination?

But the manner of a lady's employing herfelf ufefully in reading fhall be the fubject or another paper, in which I defign to recommend fuch particular books as may be proper for the improvement of the fex. And as this is a fubiect of a very nice nature, I fhall defire my correfpondents to give me their thoughts pon it.

C

N° XXXVIII.

A

N° XXXVIII. FRIDAY, APRIL 13.

CUPIAS NON PLACUISSE NIMIS.

ONE WOU'D NOT PLEASE TOO MUCH.

Late converfation which I fell into, gave me an opportunity of obferving a great deal of beauty in a very handsome woman, and as much wit in an ingenious man, turned into deformity in the one, and abfurdity in the other, by the mere force of affectation. The fair-one had fomething in her perfon upon which her thoughts were fixed, that the attempted to fhew to advantage in every look, word, and gefture. The gentleman was as diligent to do justice to his fine parts, as the lady to her beadteous form: you might fee his imagination on the stretch to find out fomething uncommon, and what they call bright, to entertain her; while the writhed herself into as many different poftures to engage him. When the laughed, her lips were to fever at a greater distance than ordinary, to hew her teeth; her fan was to point to fomewhat at a distance, that in the reach the may difcover the roundnefs of her arm; then he is utterly miftaken in what fhe faw, falls back, fmiles at her own folly, and is fo wholly dif compofed, that her tucker is to be adjusted, her bofom expofed, and the whole woman put into new ars and graces. While fhe was doing all this, the gallant had time to think of fomething very pleasant to say to her, or make fome unkind obfervation on fome other lady to feed her vanity. These unhappy effects of affectation, naturally led me to look into that strange state of mind which fo generally difcolours the behaviour of molt people we meet with.

The learned Dr. Burnet, in his Theory of the Earth, takes occafion to obferve, that every thought is attended with confcioufnefs and representativeness; the mind has nothing prefented to it but what is immediately followed by a reflection or confcience, which tells you whether that which was fo prefente is graceful or unbecoming. This act of the mind difcovers itfelf in the gefture, by a proper behaviour in thofe whofe confcioufnefs goes no further than to direct them in the juft progrefs of their prefent thought or action; but betrays

MART.

an interruption in every fecond thought, when the confcioufnefs is employed in too fondly approving a man's own conceptions: which fort of consciousness is what we call affectation.

As the love of praife is implanted in our bofoms as a strong incentive to worthy actions, it is a very difficult talk to get above a defire of it for things that hould be wholly indifferent. Women, whofe hearts are fixed upon the pleasure they have in the confcioufnels that they are the objects of love and admiration, are ever changing the air of their countenances, and altering the attitude of their bodies, to ftrike the hearts of the beholders with new fenfe of their beauty. The dreffing part of our fex, whofe minds are the fame with the fillier part of the other, are exactly in the like uneafy condition to be regarded for a well-tied cravat, an hat cocked with an unusual brifknefs, a very well chofen coat, or other inftances of merit, which they are impatient to fee unobferved.

But this apparent affectation, arifing from an ill-governed confcioufnefs, is not fo much to be wondered at in fuch loofe and trivial minds as thee; but when you fee it reign in characters of worth and diftinction, it is what you cannot but lament, not without fome indignation. It creeps into the heart of the wife man as well as that of the coxcomb. When you fee a man of enfe look about for applaufe, and discover an itching inclination to be commended; lays traps for a little incente, even from thofe whofe opinion he values in nothing but his own favour; who is fafe againft this weaknefs? or who knows whether he is guilty of it or not? The best way to get clear of fuch a light fondness for applaufe, is to take all poffible care to throw off the love of it upon occalions that are not in themfelvés laudable, but as it appears, we hope for no praife from them. Of this nature are all graces in men's perfons, drefs, and bodily deportment; which will naturally be winning attractive if we think not of them, but lofe their force in pro

portion

portion to our endeavour to make them fuch.

When our confcioufnefs turns upon the main defign of life, and our thoughts are employed upon the chief purpote either in bufinefs or pleasure, we fhall never betray an affectation, for we cannot be guilty of it; but when we give the paffion for praife an unbridled liberty, our pleafure in little perfections robs us of what is due to us for great virtues and worthy qualities. How many excellent speeches and honeft actions are loft, for want of being indifferent where we ought? Men are oppreffed with regard to their way of fpeaking and acting, inftead of having their thoughts bent upon what they should do or fay; and by that means bury a capacity for great things by their fear of failing in indifferent things. This, perhaps, cannot be called affectation; but it has fome tincture of it, at least fo far, as that their fear of erring in a thing of no confequence, argues they would be too much pleafed in performing it.

It is only from a thorough difregard to himelf in fuch particulars, that a man can act with a laudable fufficiency; his heart is fixed upon one point in view; and he commits no errors, becaufe he thinks nothing an error but what deviates from that intention.

The wild havock affectation makes in that part of the world which fhould be most polite, is visible wherever we turn our eyes: it pushes men not only into impertinencies in converfation, but alfo in their premeditated fpeeches. At the bar it tormentts the bench, whofe bufinefs it is to cut off all fuperfluities in what is fpoken before it by the practitioner; as well as feveral little pieces of injuftice which arife from the law itfelf. I have feen it make a man run from the purpofe before a judge, who was, when at the bar himself, fo clofe and logical a pleader, that with all the

[ocr errors]

pomp of eloquence in his power, he never fpoke a word too much.

It might be borne even here, but it often afcends the pulpit itfelf: and the declaimer, in that facred place, is frequently fo impertinently witty, fpeaks of the lait day itself with fo many quaint phrafes, that there is no man who understands raillery, but must resolve to fin no more: nay, you may behold him fometimes in prayer, for a proper delivery of the great truths he is to utter, humble himfelf with fo very well-turned a phrafe, and mention his own unworthinefs in a way fo very becoming, that the air of the pretty gentleman is preferved, under the lowlinefs of the preacher.

I fhall end this with a fhort letter I writ the other day to a witty man, overrun with the fault I am speaking of.

I

DEAR SIR,

Spent fome time with you the other day, and must take the liberty of a friend to tell you of the unfufferable affectation you are guilty of in all you fay and do. When I gave you an hint of it, you asked me whether a man is to be cold to what his friends think of him? No; but praife is not to be the entertainment of every moment; he that hopes for it must be able to fufpend the poffeffion of it till proper periods of life, or death itfelf. If you would not rather be commended than be praife-worthy, contemn little merits; and allow no man to be fo free with you, as to praise you to your face. Your vanity by this means will want it's food. At the fame time your paffion for efteem will be more fully gratified; men will praise you in their actions: where you now receive one compliment, you will then receive twenty civilities. Till then you will never have of either, further than, Sir, Your humble fervant,

R

N° XXXIX.

No XXXIX. SATURDAY, APRIL 14.

MULTA FERO, UT PLACEM GENUS IRRITABILE VATUM,

CUM SCRIBO

HOR. EP. II. II. 102.

IMITATED.

f

A

MUCH DO I SUFFER, MUCH, TO KEEP IN PEACE
THIS JEALOUS, WASPISH, WRONG-HEAD, RHIMING RACE.

production of human nature, fo it is capable of giving the mind one of the most delightful and moft improving entertainments. A virtuous man,' fays Seneca, ftruggling with misfor'tunes, is fuch a fpectacle as gods ⚫ might look upon with pleafure;' and fuch a pleasure it is which one meets with in the representation of a wellwritten tragedy. Diverfions of this kind wear out of our thoughts every thing that is mean and little. They cherish and cultivate that humanity which is the ornament of our nature. They foften infolence, foothe affliction, and subdue the mind to the dispensations of providence.

It is no wonder therefore that in all the polite nations of the world, this part of the drama has met with public encouragement.

The modern tragedy excels that of Greece and Rome in the intricacy and difpofition of the fable; but, what a Christian writer would be ashamed to own, falls infinitely fhort of it in the moral part of the performance.

This I may fhew more at large hereafter; and in the mean time, that I may contribute fomething towards the improvement of the English tragedy, I fhall take notice, in this and in other following papers, of fome particular parts in it that feem liable to exception. Ariftotle observes, that the Iambic verfe in the Greek tongue was the most proper for tragedy; becaufe at the fame time that it lifted up the difcourfe from profe, it was that which approached Bearer to it than any other kind of verfe. For,' fays he, we may obferve that men in ordinary difcourfe very often speak Iambics, without 'taking notice of it.' We make the fame obfervation of our English blank verfe, which often enters into our common difcourfe, though we do not at tend to it, and is fuch a due medium

POPE,

wonderfully adapted to tragedy. I am therefore very much offended when I fee a play in rhyme; which is as abfurd in English, as a tragedy of Hexameters would have been in Greek or Latin. The folecifm is, I think, ftill greater in those plays that have fome fcenes in rhyme and fome in blank verfe, which are to be looked upon as two several languages; or where we fee fome parti→ cular fimilies dignified with rhyme, at the fame time that every thing about them lies in blank verfe. I would not however debar the poet from concluding his tragedy, or, if he pleases, every act of it, with two or three couplets, which may have the fame effect as an air in the Italian opera after a long recitativo, and give the actor a graceful exit. Befides, that we see a diversity of numbers in fome parts of the old tragedy, in order to hinder the ear from being tired with the fame continued modulation of voice. For the fame reafon I do not diflike the fpeeches in ourEnglish tragedy that clofe with an Hemiftic, or half verfe, notwithstanding the perfon who fpeaks after it begins a new verfe, without filling up the preceding one: nor with abrupt paufes and breakings-off in the middle of a verfe, when they humour any paffion that is expreffsed by it.

Since I am upon this subject, I must obferve that our English poets have fucceeded much better in the ftile, than in' the fentiments of their tragedies. Their language is very often noble and fonorous, but the fenfe either very trifling or very common. On the contrary, in the ancient tragedies, and indeed in thofe of Corneille and Racine, taugh the expreffions are very great, it is the thought that bears them up and fwells them. For my own part, I prefer a noble fentiment that is depreffed with homely language, infinitely before a vulgar one that is blown up with all the

found

« НазадПродовжити »