Chapter XXXIII: Introduction (33)

I shall this Day entertain my Readers with two or three Letters I have received from my Correspondents: The first discovers to me a Species of Females which have hitherto escaped my Notice, and is as follows.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'I am a young Gentleman of a competent Fortune, and a sufficient Taste
of Learning, to spend five or six Hours every Day very agreeably among
my Books. That I might have nothing to divert me from my Studies, and
to avoid the Noises of Coaches and Chair-men, I have taken Lodgings in
a very narrow Street, not far from _Whitehall_; but it is my
Misfortune to be so posted, that my Lodgings are directly opposite to
those of a _Jezebel_. You are to know, Sir, that a _Jezebel_ (so
call'd by the Neighbourhood from displaying her pernicious Charms at
her Window) appears constantly dress'd at her Sash, and has a thousand
little Tricks and Fooleries to attract the Eyes of all the idle young
Fellows in the Neighbourhood. I have seen more than six Persons at
once from their several Windows observing the _Jezebel_ I am now
complaining of. I at first looked on her my self with the highest
Contempt, could divert my self with her Airs for half an Hour, and
afterwards take up my _Plutarch_ with great Tranquillity of Mind; but
was a little vexed to find that in less than a Month she had
considerably stoln upon my Time, so that I resolved to look at her no
more. But the _Jezebel_, who, as I suppose, might think it a
Diminution to her Honour, to have the Number of her Gazers lessen'd,
resolved not to part with me so, and began to play so many new Tricks
at her Window, that it was impossible for me to forbear observing her.
I verily believe she put her self to the Expence of a new Wax Baby on
purpose to plague me; she us'd to dandle and play with this Figure as
impertinently as if it had been a real Child: sometimes she would let
fall a Glove or a Pin Cushion in the Street, and shut or open her
Casement three or four times in a Minute. When I had almost wean'd my
self from this, she came in her Shift-Sleeves, and dress'd at the
Window. I had no Way left but to let down my Curtains, which I
submitted to, though it considerably darkned my Room, and was pleased
to think that I had at last got the better of her; but was surpriz'd
the next Morning to hear her talking out of her Window quite cross the
Street, with another Woman that lodges over me: I am since informed,
that she made her a Visit, and got acquainted with her within three
Hours after the Fall of my Window Curtains.

Sir, I am plagued every Moment in the Day one way or other in my own
Chambers; and the _Jezebel_ has the Satisfaction to know, that, tho' I
am not looking at her, I am list'ning to her impertinent Dialogues
that pass over my Head. I would immediately change my Lodgings, but
that I think it might look like a plain Confession that I am
conquer'd; and besides this, I am told that most Quarters of the Town
are infested with these Creatures. If they are so, I am sure 'tis such
an Abuse, as a Lover of Learning and Silence ought to take notice of.

_I am, SIR,_
_Yours, &c._'

I am afraid, by some Lines in this Letter, that my young Student is touched with a Distemper which he hardly seems to dream of and is too far gone in it to receive Advice. However, I shall animadvert in due time on the Abuse which he mentions, having my self observed a Nest of _Jezebels_ near the _Temple_, who make it their Diversion to draw up the Eyes of young Templars, that at the same time they may see them stumble in an unlucky Gutter which runs under the Window.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'I have lately read the Conclusion of your forty-seventh Speculation
upon _Butts_ with great Pleasure, and have ever since been thoroughly
perswaded that one of those Gentlemen is extreamly necessary to
enliven Conversation. I had an Entertainment last Week upon the Water
for a Lady to whom I make my Addresses, with several of our Friends of
both Sexes. To divert the Company in general, and to shew my Mistress
in particular my Genius for Raillery, I took one of the most
celebrated _Butts_ in Town along with me. It is with the utmost Shame
and Confusion that I must acquaint you with the Sequel of my
Adventure: As soon as we were got into the Boat, I played a Sentence
or two at my _Butt_ which I thought very smart, when my ill Genius,
who I verily believe inspir'd him purely for my Destruction, suggested
to him such a Reply, as got all the Laughter on his Side. I was
clashed at so unexpected a Turn; which the _Butt_ perceiving, resolved
not to let me recover my self, and pursuing his Victory, rallied and
tossed me in a most unmerciful and barbarous manner 'till we came to
_Chelsea_. I had some small Success while we were eating Cheese-Cakes;
but coming Home, he renewed his Attacks with his former good Fortune,
and equal Diversion to the whole Company. In short, Sir, I must
ingenuously own that I was never so handled in all my Life; and to
compleat my Misfortune, I am since told that the _Butt_, flushed with
his late Victory, has made a Visit or two to the dear Object of my
Wishes, so that I am at once in danger of losing all my Pretensions to
Wit, and my Mistress [into [1]] the Bargain. This, Sir, is a true
Account of my present Troubles, which you are the more obliged to
assist me in, as you were your self in a great measure the Cause of
them, by recommending to us an Instrument, and not instructing us at
the same time how to play upon it.

I have been thinking whether it might not be highly convenient, that
all _Butts_ should wear an Inscription affixed to some Part of their
Bodies, shewing on which Side they are to be come at, and that if any
of them are Persons of unequal Tempers, there should be some Method
taken to inform the World at what Time it is safe to attack them, and
when you had best to let them alone. But, submitting these Matters to
your more serious Consideration,

_I am, SIR,_
_Yours, &c._'

I have, indeed, seen and heard of several young Gentlemen under the same Misfortune with my present Correspondent. The best Rule I can lay down for them to avoid the like Calamities for the future, is thoroughly to consider not only _Whether their Companions are weak_, but _Whether themselves are Wits_.

The following Letter comes to me from _Exeter_, and being credibly informed that what it contains is Matter of Fact, I shall give it my Reader as it was sent me.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

_Exeter, Sept_. 7.

'You were pleased in a late Speculation to take notice of the
Inconvenience we lie under in the Country, in not being able to keep
Pace with the Fashion: But there is another Misfortune which we are
subject to, and is no less grievous than the former, which has
hitherto escaped your Observation. I mean, the having Things palmed
upon us for _London_ Fashions, which were never once heard of there.

A Lady of this Place had some time since a Box of the newest Ribbons
sent down by the Coach: Whether it was her own malicious Invention, or
the Wantonness of a _London_ Milliner, I am not able to inform you;
but, among the rest, there was one Cherry-coloured Ribbon, consisting
of about half a Dozen Yards, made up in the Figure of a small
Head-Dress. The foresaid Lady had the Assurance to affirm, amidst a
Circle of Female Inquisitors, who were present at the opening of the
Box, that this was the newest Fashion worn at Court. Accordingly the
next _Sunday_ we had several Females, who came to Church with their
Heads dress'd wholly in Ribbons, and looked like so many Victims ready
to be Sacrificed. This is still a reigning Mode among us. At the same
time we have a Set of Gentlemen who take the Liberty to appear in all
Publick Places without any Buttons to their Coats, which they supply
with several little Silver Hasps, tho' our freshest Advices from
_London_ make no mention of any such Fashion; and we are something shy
of affording Matter to the Button-Makers for a second Petition. [2]

What I would humbly propose to the Publick is, that there may be a
Society erected in _London_, to consist of the most skilful Persons of
both Sexes, for the _Inspection of Modes and Fashions_; and that
hereafter no Person or Persons shall presume to appear singularly
habited in any Part of the Country, without a Testimonial from the
foresaid Society, that their Dress is answerable to the Mode at
_London_. By this means, Sir, we shall know a little whereabout we
are.

If you could bring this Matter to bear, you would very much oblige
great Numbers of your Country Friends, and among the rest,

_Your very Humble Servant_,
Jack Modish.

X.

[Footnote 1: in]

[Footnote 2: In 1609 the Button-Makers sent a petition to Parliament, which produced the Act of the 8th year of Anne (1709), framed because

'the maintenance and subsistence of many thousands of men, women and
children depends upon the making of silk, mohair, gimp, and thread
buttons, and button-holes with the needle,' and these have been ruined
by 'a late unforeseen practice of making and binding button-holes with
cloth, serge,' &c.]

* * * * *

No. 176. Friday, September 21, 1711. Steele.

'Parvula, pumilio, [Greek: charít_on mia], lota merum Sal.'

Luc.

There are in the following Letter Matters, which I, a Batchelor, cannot be supposed to be acquainted with; therefore shall not pretend to explain upon it till further Consideration, but leave the Author of the Epistle to express his Condition his own Way.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR.

'I do not deny but you appear in many of your Papers to understand
Human Life pretty well; but there are very many Things which you
cannot possibly have a true Notion of, in a single Life; these are
such as respect the married State; otherwise I cannot account for your
having overlooked a very good Sort of People, which are commonly
called in Scorn the _Henpeckt_. You are to understand that I am one of
those innocent Mortals who suffer Derision under that Word for being
governed by the best of Wives. It would be worth your Consideration to
enter into the Nature of Affection it self, and tell us, according to
your Philosophy, why it is that our Dears shall do what they will with
us, shall be froward, ill-natured, assuming, sometimes whine, at
others rail, then swoon away, then come to Life, have the Use of
Speech to the greatest Fluency imaginable, and then sink away again,
and all because they fear we do not love them enough: that is, the
poor things love us so heartily, that they cannot think it possible we
should be able to love them in so great a Degree, which makes them
take on so. I say, Sir, a true good-natured Man, whom Rakes and
Libertines call _Hen-peckt_, shall fall into all these different Moods
with his dear Life, and at the same time see they are wholly put on;
and yet not be hard-hearted enough to tell the dear good Creature that
she is an Hypocrite. This sort of good Man is very frequent in the
populous and wealthy City of _London_, and is the true _Hen-peckt_
Man; the kind Creature cannot break through his Kindnesses so far as
to come to an Explanation with the tender Soul, and therefore goes on
to comfort her when nothing ails her, to appease her when she is not
angry, and to give her his Cash when he knows she does not want it;
rather than be uneasy for a whole Month, which is computed by
hard-hearted Men the Space of Time which a froward Woman takes to come
to her self, if you have Courage to stand out.

There are indeed several other Species of the _Hen-peckt_, and in my
Opinion they are certainly the best Subjects the Queen has; and for
that Reason I take it to be your Duty to keep us above Contempt.

I do not know whether I make my self understood in the Representation
of an Hen-peckt Life, but I shall take leave to give you an Account of
my self, and my own Spouse. You are to know that I am reckoned no
Fool, have on several Occasions been tried whether I will take ill
Usage, and yet the Event has been to my Advantage; and yet there is
not such a Slave in _Turkey_ as I am to my Dear. She has a good Share
of Wit, and is what you call a very pretty agreeable Woman. I
perfectly doat on her, and my Affection to her gives me all the
Anxieties imaginable but that of Jealousy. My being thus confident of
her, I take, as much as I can judge of my Heart, to be the Reason,
that whatever she does, tho' it be never so much against my
Inclination, there is still left something in her Manner that is
amiable. She will sometimes look at me with an assumed Grandeur, and
pretend to resent that I have not had Respect enough for her Opinion
in such an Instance in Company. I cannot but smile at the pretty Anger
she is in, and then she pretends she is used like a Child. In a Word,
our great Debate is, which has the Superiority in point of
Understanding. She is eternally forming an Argument of Debate; to
which I very indolently answer, Thou art mighty pretty. To this she
answers, All the World but you think I have as much Sense as your
self. I repeat to her, Indeed you are pretty. Upon this there is no
Patience; she will throw down any thing about her, stamp and pull off
her Head-Cloaths. Fie, my Dear, say I; how can a Woman of your Sense
fall into such an intemperate Rage? This is an Argument which never
fails. Indeed, my Dear, says she, you make me mad sometimes, so you
do, with the silly Way you have of treating me like a pretty Idiot.
Well, what have I got by putting her into good Humour? Nothing, but
that I must convince her of my good Opinion by my Practice; and then I
am to give her Possession of my little Ready Money, and, for a Day and
half following, dislike all she dislikes, and extol every thing she
approves. I am so exquisitely fond of this Darling, that I seldom see
any of my Friends, am uneasy in all Companies till I see her again;
and when I come home she is in the Dumps, because she says she is sure
I came so soon only because I think her handsome. I dare not upon this
Occasion laugh; but tho' I am one of the warmest Churchmen in the
Kingdom, I am forced to rail at the Times, because she is a violent
Whig. Upon this we talk Politicks so long, that she is convinc'd I
kiss her for her Wisdom. It is a common Practice with me to ask her
some Question concerning the Constitution, which she answers me in
general out of _Harington's Oceana_ [1]: Then I commend her strange
Memory, and her Arm is immediately lock'd in mine. While I keep her in
this Temper she plays before me, sometimes dancing in the Midst of the
Room, sometimes striking an Air at her Spinnet, varying her Posture
and her Charms in such a Manner that I am in continual Pleasure: She
will play the Fool if I allow her to be wise; but if she suspects I
like her for [her] Trifling, she immediately grows grave.

These are the Toils in which I am taken, and I carry off my Servitude
as well as most Men; but my Application to you is in Behalf of the
_Hen-peckt_ in general, and I desire a Dissertation from you in
Defence of us. You have, as I am informed, very good Authorities in
our Favour, and hope you will not omit the mention of the Renowned
_Socrates_, and his Philosophick Resignation to his Wife _Xantippe_.
This would be a very good Office to the World in general, for the
_Hen-peckt_ are powerful in their Quality and Numbers, not only in
Cities but in Courts; in the latter they are ever the most obsequious,
in the former the most wealthy of all Men. When you have considered
Wedlock throughly, you ought to enter into the Suburbs of Matrimony,
and give us an Account of the Thraldom of kind Keepers and irresolute
Lovers; the Keepers who cannot quit their Fair Ones tho' they see
their approaching Ruin; the Lovers who dare not marry, tho' they know
they never shall be happy without the Mistresses whom they cannot
purchase on other Terms.

What will be a great Embellishment to your Discourse, will be, that
you may find Instances of the Haughty, the Proud, the Frolick, the
Stubborn, who are each of them in secret downright Slaves to their
Wives or Mistresses. I must beg of you in the last Place to dwell upon
this, That the Wise and Valiant in all Ages have been _Hen-peckt_: and
that the sturdy Tempers who are not Slaves to Affection, owe that
Exemption to their being enthralled by Ambition, Avarice, or some
meaner Passion. I have ten thousand thousand Things more to say, but
my Wife sees me Writing, and will, according to Custom, be consulted,
if I do not seal this immediately.

_Yours_,
T. Nathaniel Henroost.'

[Footnote 1: The 'Oceana' is an ideal of an English Commonwealth, written by James Harrington, after the execution of Charles I. It was published in 1656, having for a time been stopped at press by Cromwell's government. After the Restoration, Harrington was sent to the Tower by Charles II. on a false accusation of conspiracy. Removed to Plymouth, he there lost his health and some part of his reason, which he did not regain before his death, in 1677, at the age of 66. His book argues that Empire follows the balance of property, which, since Henry VII.'s time, had been daily falling into the scale of the Commons from that of the King and Lords. In the 'Oceana' other theories of government are discussed before Harrington elaborates his own, and English history appears under disguise of names, William the Conqueror being called Turbo; King John, Adoxus; Richard II., Dicotome; Henry VII., Panurgus; Henry VIII., Coraunus; Queen Elizabeth, Parthenia; James I., Morpheus; and Oliver Cromwell, Olphaus Megaletor. Scotland is Marpesia, and Ireland, Panopæa. A careful edition of Harrington's 'Oceana' and other of his works, edited by John Toland, had been produced in 1700.]

* * * * *

No. 177. Saturday, September 22, 1711. Addison.

'... Quis enim bonus, aut face dignus
Arcanâ, qualem Cereris vult esse sacerdos,
Ulla aliena sibi credat mala?'

Juv.

In one of my last Week's Papers I treated of Good-Nature, as it is the Effect of Constitution; I shall now speak of it as it is a Moral Virtue. The first may make a Man easy in himself and agreeable to others, but implies no Merit in him that is possessed of it. A Man is no more to be praised upon this Account, than because he has a regular Pulse or a good Digestion. This Good-Nature however in the Constitution, which Mr. _Dryden_ somewhere calls a _Milkiness of Blood_, [1] is an admirable Groundwork for the other. In order therefore to try our Good-Nature, whether it arises from the Body or the Mind, whether it be founded in the Animal or Rational Part of our Nature; in a word, whether it be such as is entituled to any other Reward, besides that secret Satisfaction and Contentment of Mind which is essential to it, and the kind Reception it procures us in the World, we must examine it by the following Rules.

First, whether it acts with Steadiness and Uniformity in Sickness and in Health, in Prosperity and in Adversity; if otherwise, it is to be looked upon as nothing else but an Irradiation of the Mind from some new Supply of Spirits, or a more kindly Circulation of the Blood. _Sir Francis Bacon_ mentions a cunning Solicitor, [who [2]] would never ask a Favour of a great Man before Dinner; but took care to prefer his Petition at a Time when the Party petitioned had his Mind free from Care, and his Appetites in good Humour. Such a transient temporary Good-Nature as this, is not that _Philanthropy_, that Love of Mankind, which deserves the Title of a Moral Virtue.

The next way of a Man's bringing his Good-Nature to the Test, is, to consider whether it operates according to the Rules of Reason and Duty: For if, notwithstanding its general Benevolence to Mankind, it makes no Distinction between its Objects, if it exerts it self promiscuously towards the Deserving and Undeserving, if it relieves alike the Idle and the Indigent, if it gives it self up to the first Petitioner, and lights upon any one rather by Accident than Choice, it may pass for an amiable Instinct, but must not assume the Name of a Moral Virtue.

The third Tryal of Good-Nature will be, the examining ourselves, whether or no we are able to exert it to our own Disadvantage, and employ it on proper Objects, notwithstanding any little Pain, Want, or Inconvenience which may arise to our selves from it: In a Word, whether we are willing to risque any Part of our Fortune, our Reputation, our Health or Ease, for the Benefit of Mankind. Among all these Expressions of Good-Nature, I shall single out that which goes under the general Name of Charity, as it consists in relieving the Indigent; that being a Tryal of this Kind which offers itself to us almost at all Times and in every Place.

I should propose it as a Rule to every one who is provided with any Competency of Fortune more than sufficient for the Necessaries of Life, to lay aside a certain Proportion of his Income for the Use of the Poor. This I would look upon as an Offering to him who has a Right to the whole, for the Use of those whom, in the Passage hereafter mentioned, he has described as his own Representatives upon Earth. At the same time we should manage our Charity with such Prudence and Caution, that we may not hurt our own Friends or Relations, whilst we are doing Good to those who are Strangers to us.

This may possibly be explained better by an Example than by a Rule.

_Eugenius_ is a Man of an universal Good-Nature, and generous beyond the Extent of his Fortune; but withal so prudent in the Oeconomy of his Affairs, that what goes out in Charity is made up by good Management. _Eugenius_ has what the World calls Two hundred Pounds a Year; but never values himself above Ninescore, as not thinking he has a Right to the Tenth Part, which he always appropriates to charitable Uses. To this Sum he frequently makes other voluntary Additions, insomuch that in a good Year, for such he accounts those in which he has been able to make greater Bounties than ordinary, he has given above twice that Sum to the Sickly and Indigent. _Eugenius_ prescribes to himself many particular Days of Fasting and Abstinence, in order to increase his private Bank of Charity, and sets aside what would be the current Expences of those Times for the Use of the Poor. He often goes afoot where his Business calls him, and at the End of his Walk has given a Shilling, which in his ordinary Methods of Expence would have gone for Coach-Hire, to the first Necessitous Person that has fallen in his way. I have known him, when he has been going to a Play or an Opera, divert the Money which was designed for that Purpose, upon an Object of Charity whom he has met with in the Street; and afterwards pass his Evening in a Coffee-House, or at a Friend's Fire-side, with much greater Satisfaction to himself than he could have received from the most exquisite Entertainments of the Theatre. By these means he is generous, without impoverishing himself, and enjoys his Estate by making it the Property of others.

There are few Men so cramped in their private Affairs, who may not be charitable after this manner, without any Disadvantage to themselves, or Prejudice to their Families. It is but sometimes sacrificing a Diversion or Convenience to the Poor, and turning the usual Course of our Expences into a better Channel. This is, I think, not only the most prudent and convenient, but the most meritorious Piece of Charity, which we can put in practice. By this Method we in some measure share the Necessities of the Poor at the same time that we relieve them, and make ourselves not only [their Patrons, [3]] but their Fellow Sufferers.

Sir _Thomas Brown_, in the last Part of his _Religio Medici_, in which he describes his Charity in several Heroick Instances, and with a noble Heat of Sentiments, mentions that Verse in the Proverbs of _Solomon, He that giveth to the Poor, lendeth to the Lord_. [4]

'There is more Rhetorick in that one Sentence, says he, than in a
Library of Sermons; and indeed if those Sentences were understood by
the Reader, with the same Emphasis as they are delivered by the
Author, we needed not those Volumes of Instructions, but might be
honest by an Epitome. [5]'

This Passage in Scripture is indeed wonderfully persuasive; but I think the same Thought is carried much further in the New Testament, where our Saviour tells us in a most pathetick manner, that he shall hereafter regard the Cloathing of the Naked, the Feeding of the Hungry, and the Visiting of the Imprisoned, as Offices done to himself, and reward them accordingly. [6] Pursuant to those Passages in Holy Scripture, I have somewhere met with the Epitaph of a charitable Man, which has very much pleased me. I cannot recollect the Words, but the Sense of it is to this Purpose; What I spent I lost; what I possessed is left to others; what I gave away remains with me. [7]

Since I am thus insensibly engaged in Sacred Writ, I cannot forbear making an Extract of several Passages which I have always read with great Delight in the Book of _Job_. It is the Account which that Holy Man gives of his Behaviour in the Days of his Prosperity, and, if considered only as a human Composition, is a finer Picture of a charitable and good-natured Man than is to be met with in any other Author.

_Oh that I were as in Months past, as in the Days when God preserved
me: When his Candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I
walked through darkness: When the Almighty was yet with me: when my
Children were about me: When I washed my steps with butter, and the
rock poured out rivers of oyl.

When the Ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the Eye saw me, it
gave witness to me. Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the
fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him
that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the Widow's Heart
to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame;
I was a father to the poor, and the cause which I knew not I searched
out. Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my Soul
grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in an even ballance, that God
may know mine Integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man-servant
or my maid-servant when they contended with me: What then shall I do
when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did
not he that made me in the womb, make him? and did not one fashion us
in the womb? If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have
caused the eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself
alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten thereof: If I have seen any
perish for want of cloathing, or any poor without covering: If his
loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece
of my sheep: If I have lift up my hand against the fatherless, when I
saw my help in the gate; then let mine arm fall from my
shoulder-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. If I have
rejoiced at the Destruction of him that hated me, or lift up myself
when evil found him: (Neither have I suffered my mouth to sin, by
wishing a curse to his soul). The stranger did not lodge in the
street; but I opened my doors to the traveller. If my land cry against
me, or that the furrows likewise thereof complain: If I have eaten the
Fruits thereof without mony, or have caused the owners thereof to lose
their Life; Let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of
barley_. [8]

[Footnote 1: Cleomenes to Pantheus,

'Would I could share thy Balmy, even Temper,
And Milkiness of Blood.'

'Cleomenes', Act i. sc. I.]

[Footnote 2: that]

[Footnote 3: the Patrons of the Indigent]

[Footnote 4: 'Proverbs' xix. 17.]

[Footnote 5: 'Rel. Med.' Part II. sect. 13.]

[Footnote 6: 'Matt.' xxi. 31, &c.]

[Footnote 7: The Epitaph was in St. George's Church at Doncaster, and ran thus:

'How now, who is heare?
I Robin of Doncastere
And Margaret my feare.
That I spent, that I had;
That I gave, that I have;
That I left, that I lost.']

[Footnote 8: 'Job' xxix. 2, &c.; xxx. 25, &c.; xxxi. 6, &c.]

* * * * *

No. 178. Monday, September 24, 1711. Steele.

'Comis in uxorem ...'

Hor.

I cannot defer taking Notice of this Letter.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I am but too good a Judge of your Paper of the 15th Instant, which is
a Master-piece; I mean that of Jealousy: But I think it unworthy of
you to speak of that Torture in the Breast of a Man, and not to
mention also the Pangs of it in the Heart of a Woman. You have very
Judiciously, and with the greatest Penetration imaginable, considered
it as Woman is the Creature of whom the Diffidence is raised; but not
a Word of a Man who is so unmerciful as to move Jealousy in his Wife,
and not care whether she is so or not. It is possible you may not
believe there are such Tyrants in the World; but alas, I can tell you
of a Man who is ever out of Humour in his Wife's Company, and the
pleasantest Man in the World every where else; the greatest Sloven at
home when he appears to none but his Family, and most exactly
well-dressed in all other Places. Alas, Sir, is it of Course, that to
deliver one's self wholly into a Man's Power without Possibility of
Appeal to any other Jurisdiction but to his own Reflections, is so
little an Obligation to a Gentleman, that he can be offended and fall
into a Rage, because my Heart swells Tears into my Eyes when I see him
in a cloudy Mood? I pretend to no Succour, and hope for no Relief but
from himself; and yet he that has Sense and Justice in every thing
else, never reflects, that to come home only to sleep off an
Intemperance, and spend all the Time he is there as if it were a
Punishment, cannot but give the Anguish of a jealous Mind. He always
leaves his Home as if he were going to Court, and returns as if he
were entring a Gaol. I could add to this, that from his Company and
his usual Discourse, he does not scruple being thought an abandoned
Man, as to his Morals. Your own Imagination will say enough to you
concerning the Condition of me his Wife; and I wish you would be so
good as to represent to him, for he is not ill-natured, and reads you
much, that the Moment I hear the Door shut after him, I throw myself
upon my Bed, and drown the Child he is so fond of with my Tears, and
often frighten it with my Cries; that I curse my Being; that I run to
my Glass all over bathed in Sorrows, and help the Utterance of my
inward Anguish by beholding the Gush of my own Calamities as my Tears
fall from my Eyes. This looks like an imagined Picture to tell you,
but indeed this is one of my Pastimes. Hitherto I have only told you
the general Temper of my Mind, but how shall I give you an Account of
the Distraction of it? Could you but conceive how cruel I am one
Moment in my Resentment, and at the ensuing Minute, when I place him
in the Condition my Anger would bring him to, how compassionate; it
would give you some Notion how miserable I am, and how little I
deserve it. When I remonstrate with the greatest Gentleness that is
possible against unhandsome Appearances, and that married Persons are
under particular Rules; when he is in the best Humour to receive this,
I am answered only, That I expose my own Reputation and Sense if I
appear jealous. I wish, good Sir, you would take this into serious
Consideration, and admonish Husbands and Wives what Terms they ought
to keep towards each other. Your Thoughts on this important Subject
will have the greatest Reward, that which descends on such as feel the
Sorrows of the Afflicted. Give me leave to subscribe my self,
Your unfortunate humble Servant,
CELINDA.

I had it in my Thoughts, before I received the Letter of this Lady, to consider this dreadful Passion in the Mind of a Woman; and the Smart she seems to feel does not abate the Inclination I had to recommend to Husbands a more regular Behaviour, than to give the most exquisite of Torments to those who love them, nay whose Torment would be abated if they did not love them.

It is wonderful to observe how little is made of this inexpressible Injury, and how easily Men get into a Habit of being least agreeable where they are most obliged to be so. But this Subject deserves a distinct Speculation, and I shall observe for a Day or two the Behaviour of two or three happy Pair I am acquainted with, before I pretend to make a System of Conjugal Morality. I design in the first Place to go a few Miles out of Town, and there I know where to meet one who practises all the Parts of a fine Gentleman in the Duty of an Husband. When he was a Batchelor much Business made him particularly negligent in his Habit; but now there is no young Lover living so exact in the Care of his Person. One who asked why he was so long washing his Mouth, and so delicate in the Choice and Wearing of his Linen, was answered, Because there is a Woman of Merit obliged to receive me kindly, and I think it incumbent upon me to make her Inclination go along with her Duty.

If a Man would give himself leave to think, he would not be so unreasonable as to expect Debauchery and Innocence could live in Commerce together; or hope that Flesh and Blood is capable of so strict an Allegiance, as that a fine Woman must go on to improve her self 'till she is as good and impassive as an Angel, only to preserve a Fidelity to a Brute and a Satyr. The Lady who desires me for her Sake to end one of my Papers with the following Letter, I am persuaded, thinks such a Perseverance very impracticable.

_Husband_,
Stay more at home. I know where you visited at Seven of [the] Clock on
_Thursday_ Evening. The Colonel whom you charged me to see no more, is
in Town.
_Martha Housewife_.

T.

* * * * *

No. 179. Tuesday, September 25, 1711. Addison.

'Centuriæ seniorum agitant expertia frugis:
Celsi prætereunt austera Poemata Rhamnes.
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo ...'

Hor.

I may cast my Readers under two general Divisions, the _Mercurial_ and the _Saturnine_. The first are the gay Part of my Disciples, who require Speculations of Wit and Humour; the others are those of a more solemn and sober Turn, who find no Pleasure but in Papers of Morality and sound Sense. The former call every thing that is Serious, Stupid; the latter look upon every thing as Impertinent that is Ludicrous. Were I always Grave, one half of my Readers would fall off from me: Were I always Merry, I should lose the other. I make it therefore my Endeavour to find out Entertainments of both Kinds, and by that means perhaps consult the Good of both, more than I should do, did I always write to the particular Taste of either. As they neither of them know what I proceed upon, the sprightly Reader, who takes up my Paper in order to be diverted, very often finds himself engaged unawares in a serious and profitable Course of Thinking; as on the contrary, the thoughtful Man, who perhaps may hope to find something Solid, and full of deep Reflection, is very often insensibly betrayed into a Fit of Mirth. In a word, the Reader sits down to my Entertainment without knowing his Bill of Fare, and has therefore at least the Pleasure of hoping there may be a Dish to his Palate.

I must confess, were I left to my self, I should rather aim at Instructing than Diverting; but if we will be useful to the World, we must take it as we find it. Authors of professed Severity discourage the looser Part of Mankind from having any thing to do with their Writings. A man must have Virtue in him, before he will enter upon the reading of a _Seneca_ or an _Epictetus_. The very Title of a Moral Treatise has something in it austere and shocking to the Careless and Inconsiderate.

For this Reason several unthinking Persons fall in my way, who would give no Attention to Lectures delivered with a Religious Seriousness or a Philosophick Gravity. They are insnared into Sentiments of Wisdom and Virtue when they do not think of it; and if by that means they arrive only at such a Degree of Consideration as may dispose them to listen to more studied and elaborate Discourses, I shall not think my Speculations useless. I might likewise observe, that the Gloominess in which sometimes the Minds of the best Men are involved, very often stands in need of such little Incitements to Mirth and Laughter, as are apt to disperse Melancholy, and put our Faculties in good Humour. To which some will add, that the _British_ Climate, more than any other, makes Entertainments of this Nature in a manner necessary.

If what I have here said does not recommend, it will at least excuse the Variety of my Speculations. I would not willingly Laugh but in order to Instruct, or if I sometimes fail in this Point, when my Mirth ceases to be Instructive, it shall never cease to be Innocent. A scrupulous Conduct in this Particular has, perhaps, more Merit in it than the Generality of Readers imagine; did they know how many Thoughts occur in a Point of Humour, which a discreet Author in Modesty suppresses; how many Stroaks in Raillery present themselves, which could not fail to please the ordinary Taste of Mankind, but are stifled in their Birth by reason of some remote Tendency which they carry in them to corrupt the Minds of those who read them; did they know how many Glances of Ill-nature are industriously avoided for fear of doing Injury to the Reputation of another, they would be apt to think kindly of those Writers who endeavour to make themselves Diverting, without being Immoral. One may apply to these Authors that Passage in _Waller_, [1]

'Poets lose half the Praise they would have got,
Were it but known what they discreetly blot'.

As nothing is more easy than to be a Wit, with all the above-mentioned Liberties, it requires some Genius and Invention to appear such without them.

What I have here said is not only in regard to the Publick, but with an Eye to my particular Correspondent who has sent me the following Letter, which I have castrated in some Places upon these Considerations.

_SIR_,

'Having lately seen your Discourse upon a Match of Grinning, I cannot
forbear giving you an Account of a Whistling Match, which, with many
others, I was entertained with about three Years since at the _Bath_.
The Prize was a Guinea, to be conferred upon the ablest Whistler, that
is, on him who could whistle clearest, and go through his Tune without
Laughing, [to] which at the same time he was [provoked [2]] by the
antick Postures of a _Merry-Andrew_, who was to stand upon the Stage
and play his Tricks in the Eye of the Performer. There were three
Competitors for the Ring. The first was a Plow-man of a very promising
Aspect; his Features were steady, and his Muscles composed in so
inflexible a Stupidity, that upon his first Appearance every one gave
the Guinea for lost. The Pickled Herring however found the way to
shake him; for upon his Whistling a Country Jigg, this unlucky Wag
danced to it with such a Variety of Distortions and Grimaces, that the
Country-man could not forbear smiling upon him, and by that means
spoiled his Whistle, and lost the Prize.

The next that mounted the Stage was an Under-Citizen of the _Bath_, a
Person remarkable among the inferior People of that Place for his
great Wisdom and his Broad Band. He contracted his Mouth with much
Gravity, and, that he might dispose his Mind to be more serious than
ordinary, began the Tune of _The Children in the Wood_, and went
through part of it with good Success; when on a sudden the Wit at his
Elbow, who had appeared wonderfully grave and attentive for some time,
gave him a Touch upon the left Shoulder, and stared him in the Face
with so bewitching a Grin, that the Whistler relaxed his Fibres into a
kind of Simper, and at length burst out into an open Laugh. The third
who entered the Lists was a Foot-man, who in Defiance of the
_Merry-Andrew_, and all his Arts, whistled a _Scotch_ Tune and an
_Italian_ Sonata, with so settled a Countenance, that he bore away the
Prize, to the great Admiration of some Hundreds of Persons, who, as
well as my self, were present at this Trial of Skill. Now, Sir, I
humbly conceive, whatever you have determined of the Grinners, the
Whistlers ought to be encouraged, not only as their Art is practised
without Distortion, but as it improves Country Musick, promotes
Gravity, and teaches ordinary People to keep their Countenances, if
they see any thing ridiculous in their Betters; besides that it seems
an Entertainment very particularly adapted to the _Bath_, as it is
usual for a Rider to whistle to his Horse when he would make his
Waters pass.

_I am, Sir, &c_.

_POSTSCRIPT_.

After having despatched these two important Points of Grinning and
Whistling, I hope you will oblige the World with some Reflections upon
Yawning, as I have seen it practised on a Twelfth-Night among other
_Christmas_ Gambols at the House of a very worthy Gentleman, who
always entertains his Tenants at that time of the Year. They Yawn for
a _Cheshire_ Cheese, and begin about Midnight, when the whole Company
is disposed to be drowsie. He that Yawns widest, and at the same time
so naturally as to produce the most Yawns among his Spectators,
carries home the Cheese. If you handle this Subject as you ought, I
question not but your Paper will set half the Kingdom a Yawning, tho'
I dare promise you it will never make any Body fall asleep.

L.

[Footnote 1: Upon Roscommon's Tr. of Horace's 'Art of Poetry'.]

[Footnote 2: provoked to]

* * * * *

No. 180. Wednesday, September 26, 1711. Steele.

'... Delirant Reges, plectuntur Achivi.'

Hor.

The following Letter [1] has so much Weight and good Sense, that I cannot forbear inserting it, tho' it relates to an hardened Sinner, whom I have very little Hopes of reforming, _viz. Lewis_ XIV. of _France_.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'Amidst the Variety of Subjects of which you have treated, I could
wish it had fallen in your way to expose the Vanity of Conquests. This
Thought would naturally lead one to the _French_ King, who has been
generally esteemed the greatest Conqueror of our Age, 'till her
Majesty's Armies had torn from him so many of his Countries, and
deprived him of the Fruit of all his former Victories. For my own
Part, if I were to draw his Picture, I should be for taking him no
lower than to the Peace of _Reswick_ [2], just at the End of his
Triumphs, and before his Reverse of Fortune: and even then I should
not forbear thinking his Ambition had been vain and unprofitable to
himself and his People.

As for himself, it is certain he can have gained nothing by his
Conquests, if they have not rendered him Master of more Subjects, more
Riches, or greater Power. What I shall be able to offer upon these
Heads, I resolve to submit to your Consideration.

To begin then with his Increase of Subjects. From the Time he came of
Age, and has been a Manager for himself, all the People he had
acquired were such only as he had reduced by his Wars, and were left
in his Possession by the Peace; he had conquered not above one third
Part of _Flanders_, and consequently no more than one third Part of
the Inhabitants of that Province.

About 100 Years ago the Houses in that Country were all Numbered, and
by a just Computation the Inhabitants of all Sorts could not then
exceed 750000 Souls. And if any Man will consider the Desolation by
almost perpetual Wars, the numerous Armies that have lived almost ever
since at Discretion upon the People, and how much of their Commerce
has removed for more Security to other Places, he will have little
Reason to imagine that their Numbers have since increased; and
therefore with one third Part of that Province that Prince can have
gained no more than one third Part of the Inhabitants, or 250000 new
Subjects, even tho' it should be supposed they were all contented to
live still in their native Country. and transfer their Allegiance to a
new Master.

The Fertility of this Province, its convenient Situation for Trade and
Commerce, its Capacity for furnishing Employment and Subsistence to
great Numbers, and the vast Armies that have been maintained here,
make it credible that the remaining two Thirds of _Flanders_ are equal
to all his other Conquests; and consequently by all he cannot have
gained more than 750000 new Subjects, Men, Women and Children,
especially if a Deduction shall be made of such as have retired from
the Conqueror to live under their old Masters.

It is Time now to set his Loss against his Profit, and to shew for the
new Subjects he had acquired, how many old ones he had lost in the
Acquisition: I think that in his Wars he has seldom brought less into
the Field in all Places than 200000 fighting Men, besides what have
been left in Garrisons; and I think the common Computation is, that of
an Army, at the latter End of a Campaign, without Sieges or Battle,
scarce Four Fifths can be mustered of those that came into the Field
at the Beginning of the Year. His Wars at several Times till the last
Peace have held about 20 Years; and if 40000 yearly lost, or a fifth
Part of his Armies, are to be multiplied by 20, he cannot have lost
less than 800000 of his old Subjects, all able-body'd Men; a greater
Number than the new Subjects he had acquired.

But this Loss is not all: Providence seems to have equally divided the
whole Mass of Mankind into different Sexes, that every Woman may have
her Husband, and that both may equally contribute to the Continuance
of the Species. It follows then, that for all the Men that have been
lost, as many Women must have lived single, and it were but Charity to
believe they have not done all the Service they were capable of doing
in their Generation. In so long a Course of Years great part of them
must have died, and all the rest must go off at last without leaving
any Representatives behind. By this Account he must have lost not only
800000 Subjects, but double that Number, and all the Increase that was
reasonably to be expected from it.

It is said in the last War there was a Famine in his Kingdom, which
swept away two Millions of his People. This is hardly credible: If the
loss was only of one fifth Part of that Sum, it was very great. But
'tis no wonder there should be Famine, where so much of the People's
Substance is taken away for the King's Use, that they have not
sufficient left to provide against Accidents: where so many of the Men
are taken from the Plough to serve the King in his Wars, and a great
part of the Tillage is left to the weaker Hands of so many Women and
Children. Whatever was the Loss, it must undoubtedly be placed to the
Account of his Ambition.

And so must also the Destruction or Banishment of 3 or 400000 of his
reformed Subjects; he could have no other Reasons for valuing those
Lives so very cheap, but only to recommend himself to the Bigotry of
the _Spanish_ Nation.

How should there be Industry in a Country where all Property is
precarious? What Subject will sow his Land that his Prince may reap
the whole Harvest? Parsimony and Frugality must be Strangers to such a
People; for will any Man save to-day what he has Reason to fear will
be taken from him to-morrow? And where is the Encouragement for
marrying? Will any Man think of raising Children, without any
Assurance of Cloathing for their Backs, or so much as Food for their
Bellies? And thus by his fatal Ambition he must have lessened the
Number of his Subjects not only by Slaughter and Destruction, but by
preventing their very Births, he has done as much as was possible
towards destroying Posterity itself.

Is this then the great, the invincible _Lewis?_ This the immortal Man,
the _tout-puissant_, or the Almighty, as his Flatterers have called
him? Is this the Man that is so celebrated for his Conquests? For
every Subject he has acquired, has he not lost three that were his
Inheritance? Are not his Troops fewer, and those neither so well fed,
or cloathed, or paid, as they were formerly, tho' he has now so much
greater Cause to exert himself? And what can be the Reason of all
this, but that his Revenue is a great deal less, his Subjects are
either poorer, or not so many to be plundered by constant Taxes for
his Use?