Chapter XXV: Introduction (25)

I should have told my Reader, that whilst _Florio_ lived at the House of his Foster-father, he was always an acceptable Guest in the Family of _Eudoxus_, where he became acquainted with _Leonilla_ from her Infancy. His Acquaintance with her by degrees grew into Love, which in a Mind trained up in all the Sentiments of Honour and Virtue became a very uneasy Passion. He despaired of gaining an Heiress of so great a Fortune, and would rather have died than attempted it by any indirect Methods. _Leonilla_, who was a Woman of the greatest Beauty joined with the greatest Modesty, entertained at the same time a secret Passion for _Florio_, but conducted her self with so much Prudence that she never gave him the least Intimation of it. _Florio_ was now engaged in all those Arts and Improvements that are proper to raise a Man's private Fortune, and give him a Figure in his Country, but secretly tormented with that Passion which burns with the greatest Fury in a virtuous and noble Heart, when he received a sudden Summons from _Leontine_ to repair to him into the Country the next Day. For it seems _Eudoxus_ was so filled with the Report of his Son's Reputation, that he could no longer withhold making himself known to him. The Morning after his Arrival at the House of his supposed Father, _Leontine_ told him that _Eudoxus_ had something of great Importance to communicate to him; upon which the good Man embraced him, and wept. _Florio_ was no sooner arrived at the great House that stood in his Neighbourhood, but _Eudoxus_ took him by the Hand, after the first Salutes were over, and conducted him into his Closet. He there opened to him the whole Secret of his Parentage and Education, concluding after this manner: _I have no other way left of acknowledging my Gratitude to_ Leontine_, than by marrying you to his Daughter. He shall not lose the Pleasure of being your Father by the Discovery I have made to you._ Leonilla _too shall be still my Daughter; her filial Piety, though misplaced, has been so exemplary that it deserves the greatest Reward I can confer upon it. You shall have the Pleasure of seeing a great Estate fall to you, which you would have lost the Relish of had you known your self born to it. Continue only to deserve it in the same manner you did before you were possessed of it. I have left your Mother in the next Room. Her Heart yearns towards you. She is making the same Discoveries to_ Leonilla _which I have made to your self. Florio_ was so overwhelmed with this Profusion of Happiness, that he was not able to make a Reply, but threw himself down at his Father's Feet, and amidst a Flood of Tears, Kissed and embraced his Knees, asking his Blessing, and expressing in dumb Show those Sentiments of Love, Duty, and Gratitude that were too big for Utterance. To conclude, the happy Pair were married, and half _Eudoxus's_ Estate settled upon them. _Leontine_ and _Eudoxus_ passed the remainder of their Lives together; and received in the dutiful and affectionate Behaviour of _Florio_ and _Leonilla_ the just Recompence, as well as the natural Effects of that Care which they had bestowed upon them in their Education.

L.

[Footnote 1: Essay 'On the Danger of Procrastination:'

'There's no fooling with Life when it is once turn'd beyond Forty.']

* * * * *

No. 124. Monday, July 23, 1711. Addison.

[Greek (transliterated): Méga Biblion, méga kakón.]

A Man who publishes his Works in a Volume, has an infinite Advantage over one who communicates his Writings to the World in loose Tracts and single Pieces. We do not expect to meet with any thing in a bulky Volume, till after some heavy Preamble, and several Words of Course, to prepare the Reader for what follows: Nay, Authors have established it as a kind of Rule, that a Man ought to be dull sometimes; as the most severe Reader makes Allowances for many Rests and Nodding-places in a Voluminous Writer. This gave Occasion to the famous Greek Proverb which I have chosen for my Motto, _That a great Book is a great Evil._

On the contrary, those who publish their Thoughts in distinct Sheets, and as it were by Piece-meal, have none of these Advantages. We must immediately fall into our Subject, and treat every Part of it in a lively Manner, or our Papers are thrown by as dull and insipid: Our Matter must lie close together, and either be wholly new in itself, or in the Turn it receives from our Expressions. Were the Books of our best Authors thus to be retailed to the Publick, and every Page submitted to the Taste of forty or fifty thousand Readers, I am afraid we should complain of many flat Expressions, trivial Observations, beaten Topicks, and common Thoughts, which go off very well in the Lump. At the same Time, notwithstanding some Papers may be made up of broken Hints and irregular Sketches, it is often expected that every Sheet should be a kind of Treatise, and make out in Thought what it wants in Bulk: That a Point of Humour should be worked up in all its Parts; and a Subject touched upon in its most essential Articles, without the Repetitions, Tautologies and Enlargements, that are indulged to longer Labours. The ordinary Writers of Morality prescribe to their Readers after the Galenick way; their Medicines are made up in large Quantities. An Essay-Writer must practise in the Chymical Method, and give the Virtue of a full Draught in a few Drops. Were all Books reduced thus to their Quintessence, many a bulky Author would make his Appearance in a Penny-Paper: There would be scarce such a thing in Nature as a Folio. The Works of an Age would be contained on a few Shelves; not to mention millions of Volumes that would be utterly annihilated.

I cannot think that the Difficulty of furnishing out separate Papers of this Nature, has hindered Authors from communicating their Thoughts to the World after such a Manner: Though I must confess I am amazed that the Press should be only made use of in this Way by News-Writers, and the Zealots of Parties; as if it were not more advantageous to Mankind, to be instructed in Wisdom and Virtue, than in Politicks; and to be made good Fathers, Husbands and Sons, than Counsellors and Statesmen. Had the Philosophers and great Men of Antiquity, who took so much Pains in order to instruct Mankind, and leave the World wiser and better than they found it; had they, I say, been possessed of the Art of Printing, there is no question but they would have made such an Advantage of it, in dealing out their Lectures to the Publick. Our common Prints would be of great Use were they thus calculated to diffuse good Sense through the Bulk of a People, to clear up their Understandings, animate their Minds with Virtue, dissipate the Sorrows of a heavy Heart, or unbend the Mind from its more severe Employments with innocent Amusements. When Knowledge, instead of being bound up in Books and kept in Libraries and Retirements, is thus obtruded upon the Publick; when it is canvassed in every Assembly, and exposed upon every Table, I cannot forbear reflecting upon that Passage in the _Proverbs: Wisdom crieth without, she uttereth her Voice in the Streets: she crieth in the chief Place of Concourse, in the Openings of the Gates. In the City she uttereth her Words, saying, How long, ye simple ones, will ye love Simplicity? and the Scorners delight in their Scorning? and Fools hate Knowledge? [1]

The many Letters which come to me from Persons of the best Sense in both Sexes, (for I may pronounce their Characters from their Way of Writing) do not at a little encourage me in the Prosecution of this my Undertaking: Besides that my Book-seller tells me, the Demand for these my Papers increases daily. It is at his Instance that I shall continue my _rural Speculations_ to the End of this Month; several having made up separate Sets of them, as they have done before of those relating to Wit, to Operas, to Points of Morality, or Subjects of Humour.

I am not at all mortified, when sometimes I see my Works thrown aside by Men of no Taste nor Learning. There is a kind of Heaviness and Ignorance that hangs upon the Minds of ordinary Men, which is too thick for Knowledge to break through. Their Souls are not to be enlightened.

... Nox atra cava circumvolat umbra.

To these I must apply the Fable of the Mole, That after having consulted many Oculists for the bettering of his Sight, was at last provided with a good Pair of Spectacles; but upon his endeavouring to make use of them, his Mother told him very prudently, 'That Spectacles, though they might help the Eye of a Man, could be of no use to a Mole.' It is not therefore for the Benefit of Moles that I publish these my daily Essays.

But besides such as are Moles through Ignorance, there are others who are Moles through Envy. As it is said in the _Latin_ Proverb, 'That one Man is a Wolf to another; [2] so generally speaking, one Author is a Mole to another Author. It is impossible for them to discover Beauties in one another's Works; they have Eyes only for Spots and Blemishes: They can indeed see the Light as it is said of the Animals which are their Namesakes, but the Idea of it is painful to them; they immediately shut their Eyes upon it, and withdraw themselves into a wilful Obscurity. I have already caught two or three of these dark undermining Vermin, and intend to make a String of them, in order to hang them up in one of my Papers, as an Example to all such voluntary Moles.

C.

[Footnote 1: Proverbs i 20-22.]

[Footnote 2: Homo homini Lupus. Plautus Asin. Act ii sc. 4.]

* * * * *

No. 125. Tuesday, July 24, 1711. Addison.

'Ne pueri, ne tanta animis assuescite bella:
Neu patriæ validas in viscera vertite vires.'

Vir.

My worthy Friend Sir ROGER, when we are talking of the Malice of Parties, very frequently tells us an Accident that happened to him when he was a School-boy, which was at a time when the Feuds ran high between the Roundheads and Cavaliers. This worthy Knight, being then but a Stripling, had occasion to enquire which was the Way to St. _Anne's_ Lane, upon which the Person whom he spoke to, instead of answering his Question, call'd him a young Popish Cur, and asked him who had made _Anne_ a Saint? The Boy, being in some Confusion, enquired of the next he met, which was the Way to _Anne's_ Lane; but was call'd a prick-eared Cur for his Pains, and instead of being shewn the Way, was told that she had been a Saint before he was born, and would be one after he was hanged. Upon this, says Sir ROGER, I did not think fit to repeat the former Question, but going into every Lane of the Neighbourhood, asked what they called the Name of that Lane. By which ingenious Artifice he found out the place he enquired after, without giving Offence to any Party. Sir ROGER generally closes this Narrative with Reflections on the Mischief that Parties do in the Country; how they spoil good Neighbourhood, and make honest Gentlemen hate one another; besides that they manifestly tend to the Prejudice of the Land-Tax, and the Destruction of the Game.

There cannot a greater Judgment befal a Country than such a dreadful Spirit of Division as rends a Government into two distinct People, and makes them greater Strangers and more averse to one another, than if they were actually two different Nations. The Effects of such a Division are pernicious to the last degree, not only with regard to those Advantages which they give the Common Enemy, but to those private Evils which they produce in the Heart of almost every particular Person. This Influence is very fatal both to Mens Morals and their Understandings; it sinks the Virtue of a Nation, and not only so, but destroys even Common Sense.

A furious Party Spirit, when it rages in its full Violence, exerts it self in Civil War and Bloodshed; and when it is under its greatest Restraints naturally breaks out in Falshood, Detraction, Calumny, and a partial Administration of Justice. In a Word, it fills a Nation with Spleen and Rancour, and extinguishes all the Seeds of Good-Nature, Compassion and Humanity.

_Plutarch_ says very finely, that a Man should not allow himself to hate even his Enemies, because, says he, if you indulge this Passion in some Occasions, it will rise of it self in others; if you hate your Enemies, you will contract such a vicious Habit of Mind, as by degrees will break out upon those who are your Friends, or those who are indifferent to you. [1] I might here observe how admirably this Precept of Morality (which derives the Malignity of Hatred from the Passion it self, and not from its Object) answers to that great Rule which was dictated to the World about an hundred Years before this Philosopher wrote; [2] but instead of that, I shall only take notice, with a real Grief of Heart, that the Minds of many good Men among us appear sowered with Party-Principles, and alienated from one another in such a manner, as seems to me altogether inconsistent with the Dictates either of Reason or Religion. Zeal for a Publick Cause is apt to breed Passions in the Hearts of virtuous Persons, to which the Regard of their own private Interest would never have betrayed them.

If this Party-Spirit has so ill an Effect on our Morals, it has likewise a very great one upon our Judgments. We often hear a poor insipid Paper or Pamphlet cried up, and sometimes a noble Piece depreciated, by those who are of a different Principle from the Author. One who is actuated by this Spirit is almost under an Incapacity of discerning either real Blemishes or Beauties. A Man of Merit in a different Principle, [is] like an Object seen in two different Mediums, [that] appears crooked or broken, however streight and entire it may be in it self. For this Reason there is scarce a Person of any Figure in _England_, who does not go by two [contrary Characters, [3]] as opposite to one another as Light and Darkness. Knowledge and Learning suffer in [a [4]] particular manner from this strange Prejudice, which at present prevails amongst all Ranks and Degrees in the _British_ Nation. As Men formerly became eminent in learned Societies by their Parts and Acquisitions, they now distinguish themselves by the Warmth and Violence with which they espouse their respective Parties. Books are valued upon the like Considerations: An Abusive Scurrilous Style passes for Satyr, and a dull Scheme of Party Notions is called fine Writing.

There is one Piece of Sophistry practised by both Sides, and that is the taking any scandalous Story that has been ever whispered or invented of a Private Man, for a known undoubted Truth, and raising suitable Speculations upon it. Calumnies that have been never proved, or have been often refuted, are the ordinary Postulatums of these infamous Scriblers, upon which they proceed as upon first Principles granted by all Men, though in their Hearts they know they are false, or at best very doubtful. When they have laid these Foundations of Scurrility, it is no wonder that their Superstructure is every way answerable to them. If this shameless Practice of the present Age endures much longer, Praise and Reproach will cease to be Motives of Action in good Men.

There are certain Periods of Time in all Governments when this inhuman Spirit prevails. _Italy_ was long torn in Pieces by the _Guelfes_ and _Gibellines_, and _France_ by those who were for and against the League: But it is very unhappy for a Man to be born in such a stormy and tempestuous Season. It is the restless Ambition of artful Men that thus breaks a People into Factions, and draws several well-meaning [Persons [5]] to their Interest by a Specious Concern for their Country. How many honest Minds are filled with uncharitable and barbarous Notions, out of their Zeal for the Publick Good? What Cruelties and Outrages would they not commit against Men of an adverse Party, whom they would honour and esteem, if instead of considering them as they are represented, they knew them as they are? Thus are Persons of the greatest Probity seduced into shameful Errors and Prejudices, and made bad Men even by that noblest of Principles, the Love of their Country. I cannot here forbear mentioning the famous _Spanish_ Proverb, _If there were neither Fools nor Knaves in the World, all People would be of one Mind_.

For my own part, I could heartily wish that all honest Men would enter into an Association, for the Support of one another against the Endeavours of those whom they ought to look upon as their Common Enemies, whatsoever Side they may belong to. Were there such an honest [Body of Neutral [6]] Forces, we should never see the worst of Men in great Figures of Life, because they are useful to a Party; nor the best unregarded, because they are above practising those Methods which would be grateful to their Faction. We should then single every Criminal out of the Herd, and hunt him down, however formidable and overgrown he might appear: On the contrary, we should shelter distressed Innocence, and defend Virtue, however beset with Contempt or Ridicule, Envy or Defamation. In short, we should not any longer regard our Fellow Subjects as Whigs or Tories, but should make the Man of Merit our Friend, and the Villain our Enemy.

C.

[Footnote 1: Among his Moral Essays is that showing 'How one shall be helped by Enemies.' In his 'Lives,' also, Plutarch applauds in Pericles the noble sentiment which led him to think it his most excellent attainment never to have given way to envy or anger, notwithstanding the greatness of his power, nor to have nourished an implacable hatred against his greatest foe. This, he says, was his only real title to the name of Olympius.]

[Footnote 2: Luke vi. 27--32.]

[Footnote 3: Characters altogether different]

[Footnote 4: a very]

[Footnote 5: People]

[Footnote 6: Neutral Body of]

* * * * *

No. 126. Wednesday, July 25, 1711. Addison.

'Tros Rutulusve fuat, nullo discrimine habebo.'

Virg.

In my Yesterday's Paper I proposed, that the honest Men of all Parties should enter into a kind of Association for the Defence of one another, and [the] Confusion of their common Enemies. As it is designed this neutral Body should act with a Regard to nothing but Truth and Equity, and divest themselves of the little Heats and Prepossessions that cleave to Parties of all Kinds, I have prepared for them the following Form of an Association, which may express their Intentions in the most plain and simple Manner.

_We whose Names are hereunto subscribed do solemnly declare, That we
do in our Consciences believe two and two make four; and that we shall
adjudge any Man whatsoever to be our Enemy who endeavours to persuade
us to the contrary. We are likewise ready to maintain, with the Hazard
of all that is near and dear to us, That six is less than seven in all
Times and all Places, and that ten will not be more three Years hence
than it is at present. We do also firmly declare, That it is our
Resolution as long as we live to call Black black, and White white.
And we shall upon all Occasions oppose such Persons that upon any Day
of the Year shall call Black white, or White black, with the utmost
Peril of our Lives and Fortunes._

Were there such a Combination of honest Men, who without any Regard to Places would endeavour to extirpate all such furious Zealots as would sacrifice one half of their Country to the Passion and Interest of the other; as also such infamous Hypocrites, that are for promoting their own Advantage, under Colour of the Publick Good; with all the profligate immoral Retainers to each Side, that have nothing to recommend them but an implicit Submission to their Leaders; we should soon see that furious Party-Spirit extinguished, which may in time expose us to the Derision and Contempt of all the Nations about us.

A Member of this Society, that would thus carefully employ himself in making Room for Merit, by throwing down the worthless and depraved Part of Mankind from those conspicuous Stations of Life to which they have been sometimes advanced, and all this without any Regard to his private Interest, would be no small Benefactor to his Country.

I remember to have read in _Diodorus Siculus_[1] an Account of a very active little Animal, which I think he calls the _Ichneumon_, that makes it the whole Business of his Life to break the Eggs of the Crocodile, which he is always in search after. This instinct is the more remarkable, because the _Ichneumon_ never feeds upon the Eggs he has broken, nor in any other Way finds his Account in them. Were it not for the incessant Labours of this industrious Animal, _Ægypt_, says the Historian, would be over-run with Crocodiles: for the _Ægyptians_ are so far from destroying those pernicious Creatures, that they worship them as Gods.

If we look into the Behaviour of ordinary Partizans, we shall find them far from resembling this disinterested Animal; and rather acting after the Example of the wild _Tartars_, who are ambitious of destroying a Man of the most extraordinary Parts and Accomplishments, as thinking that upon his Decease the same Talents, whatever Post they qualified him for, enter of course into his Destroyer.

As in the whole Train of my Speculations, I have endeavoured as much as I am able to extinguish that pernicious Spirit of Passion and Prejudice, which rages with the same Violence in all Parties, I am still the more desirous of doing some Good in this Particular, because I observe that the Spirit of Party reigns more in the Country than in the Town. It here contracts a kind of Brutality and rustick Fierceness, to which Men of a politer Conversation are wholly Strangers. It extends it self even to the Return of the Bow and the Hat; and at the same time that the Heads of Parties preserve toward one another an outward Shew of Good-breeding, and keep up a perpetual Intercourse of Civilities, their Tools that are dispersed in these outlying Parts will not so much as mingle together at a Cockmatch. This Humour fills the Country with several periodical Meetings of Whig Jockies and Tory Fox-hunters; not to mention the innumerable Curses, Frowns, and Whispers it produces at a Quarter-Sessions.

I do not know whether I have observed in any of my former Papers, that my Friends Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY and Sir ANDREW FREEPORT are of different Principles, the first of them inclined to the _landed_ and the other to the _monyed_ Interest. This Humour is so moderate in each of them, that it proceeds no farther than to an agreeable Raillery, which very often diverts the rest of the Club. I find however that the Knight is a much stronger Tory in the Country than in Town, which, as he has told me in my Ear, is absolutely necessary for the keeping up his Interest. In all our Journey from _London_ to his House we did not so much as bait at a Whig Inn; or if by chance the Coachman stopped at a wrong Place, one of Sir ROGER'S Servants would ride up to his Master full speed, and whisper to him that the Master of the House was against such an one in the last Election. This often betray'd us into hard Beds and bad Chear; for we were not so inquisitive about the Inn as the Inn-keeper; and, provided our Landlord's Principles were sound, did not take any Notice of the Staleness of his Provisions. This I found still the more inconvenient, because the better the Host was, the worse generally were his Accommodations; the Fellow knowing very well, that those who were his Friends would take up with coarse Diet and an hard Lodging. For these Reasons, all the while I was upon the Road I dreaded entering into an House of any one that Sir Roger had applauded for an honest Man.

Since my Stay at Sir ROGER'S in the Country, I daily find more Instances of this narrow Party-Humour. Being upon a Bowling-green at a Neighbouring Market-Town the other Day, (for that is the Place where the Gentlemen of one Side meet once a Week) I observed a Stranger among them of a better Presence and genteeler Behaviour than ordinary; but was much surprised, that notwithstanding he was a very fair _Bettor_, no Body would take him up. But upon Enquiry I found, that he was one who had given a disagreeable Vote in a former Parliament, for which Reason there was not a Man upon that Bowling-green who would have so much Correspondence with him as to Win his Money of him.

Among other Instances of this Nature, I must not omit one which [concerns [2]] my self. _Will. Wimble _was the other Day relating several strange Stories that he had picked up no Body knows where of a certain great Man; and upon my staring at him, as one that was surprised to hear such things in the Country [which [3]] had never been so much as whispered in the Town, _Will_. stopped short in the Thread of his Discourse, and after Dinner asked my Friend Sir ROGER in his Ear if he was sure that I was not a Fanatick.

It gives me a serious Concern to see such a Spirit of Dissention in the Country; not only as it destroys Virtue and Common Sense, and renders us in a Manner Barbarians towards one another, but as it perpetuates our Animosities, widens our Breaches, and transmits our present Passions and Prejudices to our Posterity. For my own Part, I am sometimes afraid that I discover the Seeds of a Civil War in these our Divisions; and therefore cannot but bewail, as in their first Principles, the Miseries and Calamities of our Children.

C.

[Footnote 1: Bibliothecæ Historicæ, Lib. i. § 87.]

[Footnote 2: concerns to]

[Footnote 3: that]

* * * * *

No. 127. Thursday, July 26, 1711. Addison.

'Quantum est in rebus Inane?'

Pers.

It is our Custom at Sir ROGER'S, upon the coming in of the Post, to sit about a Pot of Coffee, and hear the old Knight read _Dyer's_ Letter; which he does with his Spectacles upon his Nose, and in an audible Voice, smiling very often at those little Strokes of Satyr which are so frequent in the Writings of that Author. I afterwards communicate to the Knight such Packets as I receive under the Quality of SPECTATOR. The following Letter chancing to please him more than ordinary, I shall publish it at his Request.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'You have diverted the Town almost a whole Month at the Expence of the
Country, it is now high time that you should give the Country their
Revenge. Since your withdrawing from this Place, the Fair Sex are run
into great Extravagancies. Their Petticoats, which began to heave and
swell before you left us, are now blown up into a most enormous
Concave, and rise every Day more and more: In short, Sir, since our
Women know themselves to be out of the Eye of the SPECTATOR, they will
be kept within no Compass. You praised them a little too soon, for the
Modesty of their Head-Dresses; for as the Humour of a sick Person is
often driven out of one Limb into another, their Superfluity of
Ornaments, instead of being entirely Banished, seems only fallen from
their Heads upon their lower Parts. What they have lost in Height they
make up in Breadth, and contrary to all Rules of Architecture widen
the Foundations at the same time that they shorten the Superstructure.
Were they, like _Spanish_ Jennets, to impregnate by the Wind, they
could not have thought on a more proper Invention. But as we do not
yet hear any particular Use in this Petticoat, or that it contains any
thing more than what was supposed to be in those of Scantier Make, we
are wonderfully at a loss about it.

The Women give out, in Defence of these wide Bottoms, that they are
Airy, and very proper for the Season; but this I look upon to be only
a Pretence, and a piece of Art, for it is well known we have not had a
more moderate Summer these many Years, so that it is certain the Heat
they complain of cannot be in the Weather: Besides, I would fain ask
these tender constitutioned Ladies, why they should require more
Cooling than their Mothers before them.

I find several Speculative Persons are of Opinion that our Sex has of
late Years been very sawcy, and that the Hoop Petticoat is made use of
to keep us at a Distance. It is most certain that a Woman's Honour
cannot be better entrenched than after this manner, in Circle within
Circle, amidst such a Variety of Out-works and Lines of
Circumvallation. A Female who is thus invested in Whale-Bone is
sufficiently secured against the Approaches of an ill-bred Fellow, who
might as well think of Sir _George Etherege_'s way of making Love in a
Tub, [1] as in the midst of so many Hoops.

Among these various Conjectures, there are Men of Superstitious
tempers, who look upon the Hoop Petticoat as a kind of Prodigy. Some
will have it that it portends the Downfal of the _French_ King, and
observe that the Farthingale appeared in _England _a little before the
Ruin of the _Spanish_ Monarchy. Others are of Opinion that it foretels
Battle and Bloodshed, and believe it of the same Prognostication as
the Tail of a Blazing Star. For my part, I am apt to think it is a
Sign that Multitudes are coming into the World rather than going out
of it.

The first time I saw a Lady dressed in one of these Petticoats, I
could not forbear blaming her in my own Thoughts for walking abroad
when she was _so near her Time_, but soon recovered myself out of my
Error, when I found all the Modish Part of the Sex as _far gone_ as
her self. It is generally thought some crafty Women have thus betrayed
their Companions into Hoops, that they might make them accessory to
their own Concealments, and by that means escape the Censure of the
World; as wary Generals have sometimes dressed two or three Dozen of
their Friends in their own Habit, that they might not draw upon
themselves any particular Attacks of the Enemy. The strutting
Petticoat smooths all Distinctions, levels the Mother with the
Daughter, and sets Maids and Matrons, Wives and Widows, upon the same
Bottom. In the mean while I cannot but be troubled to see so many
well-shaped innocent Virgins bloated up, and waddling up and down like
big-bellied Women.

Should this Fashion get among the ordinary People our publick Ways
would be so crowded that we should want Street-room. Several
Congregations of the best Fashion find themselves already very much
streightened, and if the Mode encrease I wish it may not drive many
ordinary Women into Meetings and Conventicles. Should our Sex at the
same time take it into their Heads to wear Trunk Breeches (as who
knows what their Indignation at this Female Treatment may drive them
to) a Man and his Wife would fill a whole Pew.

You know, Sir, it is recorded of Alexander the Great, [2] that in his
_Indian_ Expedition he buried several Suits of Armour, which by his
Direction were made much too big for any of his Soldiers, in order to
give Posterity an extraordinary Idea of him, and make them believe he
had commanded an Army of Giants. I am persuaded that if one of the
present Petticoats happen to be hung up in any Repository of
Curiosities, it will lead into the same Error the Generations that lie
some Removes from us: unless we can believe our Posterity will think
so disrespectfully of their Great Grand-Mothers, that they made
themselves Monstrous to appear Amiable.

When I survey this new-fashioned _Rotonda_ in all its Parts, I cannot
but think of the old Philosopher, who after having entered into an
_Egyptian_ Temple, and looked about for the Idol of the Place, at
length discovered a little Black Monkey Enshrined in the midst of it,
upon which he could not forbear crying out, (to the great Scandal of
the Worshippers) What a magnificent Palace is here for such a
Ridiculous Inhabitant!

Though you have taken a Resolution, in one of your Papers, to avoid
descending to Particularities of Dress, I believe you will not think
it below you, on so extraordinary an Occasion, to Unhoop the Fair Sex,
and cure this fashionable Tympany that is got among them. I am apt to
think the Petticoat will shrink of its own accord at your first coming
to Town; at least a Touch of your Pen will make it contract it self,
like the sensitive Plant, and by that means oblige several who are
either terrified or astonished at this portentous Novelty, and among
the rest,

_Your humble Servant, &c._

C.

[Footnote 1: 'Love in a Tub', Act iv, sc, 6.]

[Footnote 2: In Plutarch's 'Life' of him.]

* * * * *

No. 128. Friday, July 27, 1711. Addison.

'... Concordia discors.'

Lucan.

Women in their Nature are much more gay and joyous than Men; whether it be that their Blood is more refined, their Fibres more delicate, and their animal Spirits more light and volatile; or whether, as some have imagined, there may not be a kind of Sex in the very Soul, I shall not pretend to determine. As Vivacity is the Gift of Women, Gravity is that of Men. They should each of them therefore keep a Watch upon the particular Biass which Nature has fixed in their Mind, that it may not _draw_ too much, and lead them out of the Paths of Reason. This will certainly happen, if the one in every Word and Action affects the Character of being rigid and severe, and the other of being brisk and airy. Men should beware of being captivated by a kind of savage Philosophy, Women by a thoughtless Gallantry. Where these Precautions are not observed, the Man often degenerates into a Cynick, the Woman into a Coquet; the Man grows sullen and morose, the Woman impertinent and fantastical.

By what I have said, we may conclude, Men and Women were made as Counterparts to one another, that the Pains and Anxieties of the Husband might be relieved by the Sprightliness and good Humour of the Wife. When these are rightly tempered, Care and Chearfulness go Hand in Hand; and the Family, like a Ship that is duly trimmed, wants neither Sail nor Ballast.

Natural Historians observe, (for whilst I am in the Country I must fetch my Allusions from thence) That only the Male Birds have Voices; That their Songs begin a little before Breeding-time, and end a little after; That whilst the Hen is covering her Eggs, the Male generally takes his Stand upon a Neighbouring Bough within her Hearing; and by that means amuses and diverts her with his Songs during the whole Time of her Sitting.

This Contract among Birds lasts no longer than till a Brood of young ones arises from it; so that in the feather'd Kind, the Cares and Fatigues of the married State, if I may so call it, lie principally upon the Female. On the contrary, as in our Species the Man and [the] Woman are joined together for Life, and the main Burden rests upon the former, Nature has given all the little Arts of Soothing and Blandishment to the Female, that she may chear and animate her Companion in a constant and assiduous Application to the making a Provision for his Family, and the educating of their common Children. This however is not to be taken so strictly, as if the same Duties were not often reciprocal, and incumbent on both Parties; but only to set forth what seems to have been the general Intention of Nature, in the different Inclinations and Endowments which are bestowed on the different Sexes.

But whatever was the Reason that Man and Woman were made with this Variety of Temper, if we observe the Conduct of the Fair Sex, we find that they choose rather to associate themselves with a Person who resembles them in that light and volatile Humour which is natural to them, than to such as are qualified to moderate and counter-ballance it. It has been an old Complaint, That the Coxcomb carries it with them before the Man of Sense. When we see a Fellow loud and talkative, full of insipid Life and Laughter, we may venture to pronounce him a female Favourite: Noise and Flutter are such Accomplishments as they cannot withstand. To be short, the Passion of an ordinary Woman for a Man is nothing else but Self-love diverted upon another Object: She would have the Lover a Woman in every thing but the Sex. I do not know a finer Piece of Satyr on this Part of Womankind, than those lines of Mr._Dryden_,

'Our thoughtless Sex is caught by outward Form,
And empty Noise, and loves it self in Man.'

This is a Source of infinite Calamities to the Sex, as it frequently joins them to Men, who in their own Thoughts are as fine Creatures as themselves; or if they chance to be good-humoured, serve only to dissipate their Fortunes, inflame their Follies, and aggravate their Indiscretions.

The same female Levity is no less fatal to them after Mariage than before: It represents to their Imaginations the faithful prudent Husband as an honest tractable [and] domestick Animal; and turns their Thoughts upon the fine gay Gentleman that laughs, sings, and dresses so much more agreeably.

As this irregular Vivacity of Temper leads astray the Hearts of ordinary Women in the Choice of their Lovers and the Treatment of their Husbands, it operates with the same pernicious Influence towards their Children, who are taught to accomplish themselves in all those sublime Perfections that appear captivating in the Eye of their Mother. She admires in her Son what she loved in her Gallant; and by that means contributes all she can to perpetuate herself in a worthless Progeny.

The younger _Faustina_ was a lively Instance of this sort of Women. Notwithstanding she was married to _Marcus Aurelius_, one of the greatest, wisest, and best of the _Roman_ Emperors, she thought a common Gladiator much the prettier Gentleman; and had taken such Care to accomplish her Son _Commodus_ according to her own Notions of a fine Man, that when he ascended the Throne of his Father, he became the most foolish and abandoned Tyrant that was ever placed at the Head of the _Roman_ Empire, signalizing himself in nothing but the fighting of Prizes, and knocking out Men's Brains. As he had no Taste of true Glory, we see him in several Medals and Statues [which [1]] are still extant of him, equipped like an _Hercules_ with a Club and a Lion's Skin.

I have been led into this Speculation by the Characters I have heard of a Country Gentleman and his Lady, who do not live many Miles from Sir ROGER. The Wife is an old Coquet, that is always hankering after the Diversions of the Town; the Husband a morose Rustick, that frowns and frets at the Name of it. The Wife is overrun with Affectation, the Husband sunk into Brutality: The Lady cannot bear the Noise of the Larks and Nightingales, hates your tedious Summer Days, and is sick at the Sight of shady Woods and purling Streams; the Husband wonders how any one can be pleased with the Fooleries of Plays and Operas, and rails from Morning to Night at essenced Fops and tawdry Courtiers. The Children are educated in these different Notions of their Parents. The Sons follow the Father about his Grounds, while the Daughters read Volumes of Love-Letters and Romances to their Mother. By this means it comes to pass, that the Girls look upon their Father as a Clown, and the Boys think their Mother no better than she should be.

How different are the Lives of _Aristus_ and _Aspasia_? the innocent Vivacity of the one is tempered and composed by the chearful Gravity of the other. The Wife grows wise by the Discourses of the Husband, and the Husband good-humour'd by the Conversations of the Wife. _Aristus_ would not be so amiable were it not for his _Aspasia_, nor _Aspasia_ so much [esteemed [2]] were it not for her _Aristus_. Their Virtues are blended in their Children, and diffuse through the whole Family a perpetual Spirit of Benevolence, Complacency, and Satisfaction.

C.

[Footnote 1: that]

[Footnote 2: to be esteemed]

* * * * *

No. 129. Saturday, July 28, 1711. Addison.

'Vertentem sese frustra sectabere canthum,
Cum rota posterior curras et in axe secundo.'

Pers.

Great Masters in Painting never care for drawing People in the Fashion; as very well knowing that the Headdress, or Periwig, that now prevails, and gives a Grace to their Portraitures at present, will make a very odd Figure, and perhaps look monstrous in the Eyes of Posterity. For this Reason they often represent an illustrious Person in a _Roman_ Habit, or in some other Dress that never varies. I could wish, for the sake of my Country Friends, that there was such a kind of _everlasting Drapery_ to be made use of by all who live at a certain distance from the Town, and that they would agree upon such Fashions as should never be liable to Changes and Innovations. For want of this _standing Dress_, a Man [who [1]] takes a Journey into the Country is as much surprised, as one [who [1]] walks in a Gallery of old Family Pictures; and finds as great a Variety of Garbs and Habits in the Persons he converses with. Did they keep to one constant Dress they would sometimes be in the Fashion, which they never are as Matters are managed at present. If instead of running after the Mode, they would continue fixed in one certain Habit, the Mode would some time or other overtake them, as a Clock that stands still is sure to point right once in twelve Hours: In this Case therefore I would advise them, as a Gentleman did his Friend who was hunting about the whole Town after a rambling Fellow, If you follow him you will never find him, but if you plant your self at the Corner of any one Street, I'll engage it will not be long before you see him.

I have already touched upon this Subject in a Speculation [which [1]] shews how cruelly the Country are led astray in following the Town; and equipped in a ridiculous Habit, when they fancy themselves in the Height of the Mode. Since that Speculation I have received a Letter (which I there hinted at) from a Gentleman who is now in the Western Circuit.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'Being a Lawyer of the_ Middle-Temple_, [a [2]] _Cornishman_ by Birth,
I generally ride the Western Circuit for my health, and as I am not
interrupted with Clients, have leisure to make many Observations that
escape the Notice of my Fellow-Travellers.

One of the most fashionable Women I met with in all the Circuit was my
Landlady at _Stains_, where I chanced to be on a Holiday. Her Commode
was not half a Foot high, and her Petticoat within some Yards of a
modish Circumference. In the same Place I observed a young Fellow with
a tolerable Periwig, had it not been covered with a Hat that was
shaped in the _Ramillie_ Cock. [3] As I proceeded in my Journey I
observed the Petticoat grew scantier and scantier, and about
threescore Miles from _London_ was so very unfashionable, that a Woman
might walk in it without any manner of Inconvenience.

Not far from _Salisbury_ I took notice of a Justice of Peace's Lady
[who [4]] was at least ten Years behindhand in her Dress, but at the
same time as fine as Hands could make her. She was flounced and
furbelowed from Head to Foot; every Ribbon was wrinkled, and every
Part of her Garments in Curl, so that she looked like one of those
Animals which in the Country we call a _Friezeland_ Hen.

Not many Miles beyond this Place I was informed that one of the last
Year's little Muffs had by some means or other straggled into those
Parts, and that all Women of Fashion were cutting their old Muffs in
two, or retrenching them, according to the little Model [which [5]]
was got among them. I cannot believe the Report they have there, that
it was sent down frank'd by a Parliament-man in a little Packet; but
probably by next Winter this Fashion will be at the Height in the
Country, when it is quite out at _London_.

The greatest Beau at our next Country Sessions was dressed in a most
monstrous Flaxen Periwig, that was made in King _William's_ Reign. The
Wearer of it goes, it seems, in his own Hair, when he is at home, and
lets his Wig lie in Buckle for a whole half Year, that he may put it
on upon Occasions to meet the Judges in it.

I must not here omit an Adventure [which [5]] happened to us in a
Country Church upon the Frontiers of _Cornwall_. As we were in the
midst of the Service, a Lady who is the chief Woman of the Place, and
had passed the Winter at _London_ with her Husband, entered the
Congregation in a little Headdress, and a hoop'd Petticoat. The
People, who were wonderfully startled at such a Sight, all of them
rose up. Some stared at the prodigious Bottom, and some at the little
Top of this strange Dress. In the mean time the Lady of the Manor
filled the [_Area_ [6]] of the Church, and walked up to her Pew with
an unspeakable Satisfaction, amidst the Whispers, Conjectures, and
Astonishments of the whole Congregation.

Upon our Way from hence we saw a young Fellow riding towards us full
Gallop, with a Bob Wig and a black Silken Bag tied to it. He stopt
short at the Coach, to ask us how far the Judges were behind us. His
Stay was so very short, that we had only time to observe his new silk
Waistcoat, [which [7]] was unbutton'd in several Places to let us see
that he had a clean Shirt on, which was ruffled down to his middle.

From this Place, during our Progress through the most Western Parts of
the Kingdom, we fancied ourselves in King _Charles_ the Second's
Reign, the People having made very little Variations in their Dress
since that time. The smartest of the Country Squires appear still in
the _Monmouth_-Cock [8] and when they go a wooing (whether they have
any Post in the Militia or not) they generally put on a red Coat. We
were, indeed, very much surprized, at the Place we lay at last Night,
to meet with a Gentleman that had accoutered himself in a Night-Cap
Wig, a Coat with long Pockets, and slit Sleeves, and a pair of Shoes
with high Scollop Tops; but we soon found by his Conversation that he
was a Person who laughed at the Ignorance and Rusticity of the Country
People, and was resolved to live and die in the Mode.

_Sir_, If you think this Account of my Travels may be of any Advantage
to the Publick, I will next Year trouble you with such Occurrences as
I shall meet with in other Parts of _England_. For I am informed there
are greater Curiosities in the Northern Circuit than in the Western;
and that a Fashion makes its Progress much slower into _Cumberland_
than into _Cornwall_. I have heard in particular, that the Steenkirk
[9] arrived but two Months ago at _Newcastle_, and that there are
several Commodes in those Parts which are worth taking a Journey
thither to see.

C.

[Footnotes 1: that]

[Footnote 2: and a]

[Footnote 3: Fashion of 1706]

[Footnote 4: that]

[Footnotes 5: that]

[Footnote 6: whole Area]

[Footnote 7: that]

[Footnote 8: Of 1685.]

[Footnote 9: Fashion of 1692-3.]

* * * * *

No. 130. Monday, July 30, 1711. Addison.

'... Semperque recentes
Convectare juvat prædas, et vivere rapto.'

Virg.

As I was Yesterday riding out in the Fields with my Friend Sir ROGER, we saw at a little Distance from us a Troop of Gypsies. Upon the first Discovery of them, my Friend was in some doubt whether he should not exert the Justice of the Peace upon such a Band of Lawless Vagrants; but not having his Clerk with him, who is a necessary Counsellor on these Occasions, and fearing that his Poultry might fare the worse for it, he let the Thought drop: But at the same time gave me a particular Account of the Mischiefs they do in the Country, in stealing People's Goods and spoiling their Servants.

If a stray Piece of Linnen hangs upon an Hedge, says Sir ROGER, they
are sure to have it; if the Hog loses his Way in the Fields, it is ten
to one but he becomes their Prey; our Geese cannot live in Peace for
them; if a Man prosecutes them with Severity, his Hen-roost is sure to
pay for it: They generally straggle into these Parts about this Time
of the Year; and set the Heads of our Servant-Maids so agog for
Husbands, that we do not expect to have any Business done as it should
be whilst they are in the Country. I have an honest Dairy-maid [who
[1]] crosses their Hands with a Piece of Silver every Summer, and
never fails being promised the handsomest young Fellow in the Parish
for her pains. Your Friend the Butler has been Fool enough to be
seduced by them; and, though he is sure to lose a Knife, a Fork, or a
Spoon every time his Fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up
in the Pantry with an old Gypsie for above half an Hour once in a
Twelvemonth. Sweet-hearts are the things they live upon, which they
bestow very plentifully upon all those that apply themselves to them.
You see now and then some handsome young Jades among them: The Sluts
have very often white Teeth and black Eyes.

Sir ROGER observing that I listned with great Attention to his Account of a People who were so entirely new to me, told me, That if I would they should tell us our Fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the Knight's Proposal, we rid up and communicated our Hands to them. A _Cassandra_ of the Crew, after having examined my Lines very diligently, told me, That I loved a pretty Maid in a Corner, that I was a good Woman's Man, with some other Particulars which I do not think proper to relate. My Friend Sir ROGER alighted from his Horse, and exposing his Palm to two or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all Shapes, and diligently scanned every Wrinkle that could be made in it; when one of them, [who [2]] was older and more Sun-burnt than the rest, told him, That he had a Widow in his Line of Life: Upon which the Knight cried, Go, go, you are an idle Baggage; and at the same time smiled upon me. The Gypsie finding he was not displeased in his Heart, told him, after a farther Enquiry into his Hand, that his True-love was constant, and that she should dream of him to-night: My old Friend cried Pish, and bid her go on. The Gypsie told him that he was a Batchelour, but would not be so long; and that he was dearer to some Body than he thought: The Knight still repeated, She was an idle Baggage, and bid her go on. Ah Master, says the Gypsie, that roguish Leer of yours makes a pretty Woman's Heart ake; you ha'n't that Simper about the Mouth for Nothing--The uncouth Gibberish with which all this was uttered like the Darkness of an Oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be short, the Knight left the Money with her that he had crossed her Hand with, and got up again on his Horse.