Chapter LVIII: Introduction (58)

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The journal with which I presented my Reader on Tuesday last, has brought me in several Letters, with Accounts of many private Lives cast into that Form. I have the Rakes Journal, the Sots Journal, the Whoremasters Journal, and among several others a very curious Piece, entituled, The Journal of a Mohock. By these Instances I find that the Intention of my last Tuesdays Paper has been mistaken by many of my Readers. I did not design so much to expose Vice as Idleness, and aimed at those Persons who pass away their Time rather in Trifle and Impertinence, than in Crimes and Immoralities. Offences of this latter kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In short, my Journal only holds up Folly to the Light, and shews the Disagreeableness of such Actions as are indifferent in themselves, and blameable only as they proceed from Creatures endow'd with Reason.

My following Correspondent, who calls her self Clarinda, is such a Journalist as I require: She seems by her Letter to be placed in a modish State of Indifference between Vice and Virtue, and to be susceptible of either, were there proper Pains taken with her. Had her Journal been filled with Gallantries, or such Occurrences as had shewn her wholly divested of her natural Innocence, notwithstanding it might have been more pleasing to the Generality of Readers, I should not have published it; but as it is only the Picture of a Life filled with a fashionable kind of Gaiety and Laziness, I shall set down five Days of it, as I have received it from the Hand of my fair Correspondent.

Dear Mr. SPECTATOR,
You having set your Readers an Exercise in one of your last Weeks
Papers, I have perform'd mine according to your Orders, and herewith
send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. SPECTATOR, that I am a Maiden
Lady of a good Fortune, who have had several Matches offered me for
these ten Years last past, and have at present warm Applications made
to me by a very pretty Fellow. As I am at my own Disposal, I come up
to Town every Winter, and pass my Time in it after the manner you will
find in the following Journal, which I begun to write upon the very
Day after your Spectator upon that Subject.

TUESDAY Night. Could not go to sleep till one in the Morning for
thinking of my Journal.

WEDNESDAY. From Eight till Ten, Drank two Dishes of Chocolate in
Bed, and fell asleep after em.

From Ten to Eleven. Eat a Slice of Bread and Butter, drank a Dish of
Bohea, read the Spectator.

From Eleven to One. At my Toilet, try'd a new Head. Gave Orders for
Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in Blue.

From One till Half an Hour after Two. Drove to the Change. Cheapned
a Couple of Fans.

Till Four. At Dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new Liveries.

From Four to Six. Dressed, paid a Visit to old Lady Blithe and her
Sister, having before heard they were gone out of Town that Day.

From Six to Eleven. At Basset. Mem. Never set again upon the Ace of
Diamonds.

THURSDAY. From Eleven at Night to Eight in the Morning. Dream'd that
I punted to Mr. Froth.

From Eight to Ten. Chocolate. Read two Acts in Aurenzebe [2] abed.

From Ten to Eleven. Tea-Table. Sent to borrow Lady Faddles Cupid
for Veny. Read the Play-Bills. Received a Letter from Mr. Froth.
Mem. locked it up in my strong Box.

Rest of the Morning. Fontange, the Tire-woman, her Account of my
Lady Blithe's Wash. Broke a Tooth in my little Tortoise-shell Comb.
Sent Frank to know how my Lady Hectick rested after her Monky's
leaping out at Window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my Glass is
not true. Dressed by Three.

From Three to Four. Dinner cold before I sat down.

From Four to Eleven. Saw Company. Mr. Froths Opinion of Milton. His
Account of the Mohocks. His Fancy for a Pin-cushion. Picture in the
Lid of his Snuff-box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her Woman to cut
my Hair. Lost five Guineas at Crimp.

Twelve a-Clock at Night. Went to Bed.

FRIDAY. Eight in the Morning. Abed. Read over all Mr. Froths
Letters. Cupid and Veny.

Ten a-Clock. Stay'd within all day, not at home.

From Ten to Twelve. In Conference with my Mantua-Maker. Sorted a
Suit of Ribbands. Broke my Blue China Cup.

From Twelve to One. Shut my self up in my Chamber, practised Lady
Betty Modely's Skuttle.

One in the Afternoon. Called for my flowered Handkerchief. Worked
half a Violet-Leaf in it. Eyes aked and Head out of Order. Threw by
my Work, and read over the remaining Part of Aurenzebe.

From Three to Four. Dined.

From Four to Twelve. Changed my Mind, dressed, went abroad, and
play'd at Crimp till Midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home.
Conversation: Mrs. Brilliants Necklace false Stones. Old Lady
Loveday going to be married to a young Fellow that is not worth a
Groat. Miss Prue gone into the Country. Tom Townley has red Hair.
Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my Ear that she had something to tell
me about Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true.

Between Twelve and One. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my Feet, and
called me Indamora. [3]

SATURDAY. Rose at Eight a-Clock in the Morning. Sate down to my
Toilet.

From Eight to Nine. Shifted a Patch for Half an Hour before I could
determine it. Fixed it above my left Eye-brow.

From Nine to Twelve. Drank my Tea, and dressed.

From Twelve to Two. At Chappel. A great deal of good Company. Mem.
The third Air in the new Opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully.

From Three to Four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the
Opera before I was risen from Table.

From Dinner to Six. Drank Tea. Turned off a Footman for being rude
to Veny.

Six a-Clock. Went to the Opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the
beginning of the second Act. Mr. Froth talked to a Gentleman in a
black Wig. Bowed to a Lady in the front Box. Mr. Froth and his
Friend clapp'd Nicolini in the third Act. Mr. Froth cried out
Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my Chair. I think he squeezed my Hand.

Eleven at Night. Went to Bed. Melancholy Dreams. Methought Nicolini
said he was Mr. Froth.

SUNDAY. Indisposed.

MONDAY. Eight a-Clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurenzebe lay upon the
Chair by me. Kitty repeated without Book the Eight best Lines in the
Play. Went in our Mobbs to the dumb Man [4], according to
Appointment. Told me that my Lovers Name began with a G. Mem. The
Conjurer was within a Letter of Mr. Froths Name, &c.

Upon looking back into this my Journal, I find that I am at a loss to
know whether I pass my Time well or ill; and indeed never thought of
considering how I did it before I perused your Speculation upon that
Subject. I scarce find a single Action in these five Days that I can
thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the Violet-Leaf, which
I am resolved to finish the first Day I am at leisure. As for Mr.
Froth and Veny I did not think they took up so much of my Time and
Thoughts, as I find they do upon my Journal. The latter of them I will
turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring
Matters to a Conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my Life run away
in a Dream.
Your humble Servant,
Clarinda.

To resume one of the Morals of my first Paper, and to confirm Clarinda in her good Inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty Figure she would make among Posterity, were the History of her whole Life published like these five Days of it. I shall conclude my Paper with an Epitaph written by an uncertain Author [5] on Sir Philip Sidney's Sister, a Lady who seems to have been of a Temper very much different from that of Clarinda. The last Thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my Reader will pardon me the Quotation.

On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke.
Underneath this Marble Hearse
Lies the Subject of all Verse,
Sidney's Sister, Pembroke's Mother:
Death, ere thou hast kill'd another,
Fair, and learn'd, and good as she,
Time shall throw a Dart at thee.

[Footnote 1: A quotation from memory of Virgil's Et juvenis quondam nunc foemina. Æn. vi. 448.]

[Footnote 2: Dryden's.]

[Footnote 3: The heroine of Aurengzebe.]

[Footnote 4: Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb, and to tell fortunes by second sight. In 1732 there appeared Secret Memoirs of the late Mr. D. Campbell.... written by himself... with an Appendix by way of vindicating Mr. C. against the groundless aspersion cast upon him, that he but pretended to be deaf and dumb.]

[Footnote 5: Ben Jonson.]

* * * * *

No. 324. Wednesday, March 12, 1712. Steele.

[O curvæ in terris animæ, et coelestium inanes.

Pers [1].]

Mr. SPECTATOR,

The Materials you have collected together towards a general History
of Clubs, make so bright a Part of your Speculations, that I think it
is but a Justice we all owe the learned World to furnish you with such
Assistances as may promote that useful Work. For this Reason I could
not forbear communicating to you some imperfect Informations of a Set
of Men (if you will allow them a place in that Species of Being) who
have lately erected themselves into a Nocturnal Fraternity, under the
Title of the Mohock Club, a Name borrowed it seems from a sort of
Cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the
Nations about them. The President is styled Emperor of the Mohocks;
and his Arms are a Turkish Crescent, which his Imperial Majesty bears
at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his Forehead.
Agreeable to their Name, the avowed design of their Institution is
Mischief; and upon this Foundation all their Rules and Orders are
framed. An outrageous Ambition of doing all possible hurt to their
Fellow-Creatures, is the great Cement of their Assembly, and the only
Qualification required in the Members. In order to exert this
Principle in its full Strength and Perfection, they take care to drink
themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the Possibility of attending to
any Motions of Reason and Humanity; then make a general Sally, and
attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the Streets through
which they patrole. Some are knock'd down, others stabb'd, others cut
and carbonado'd. To put the Watch to a total Rout, and mortify some of
those inoffensive Militia, is reckon'd a Coup d'eclat. The particular
Talents by which these Misanthropes are distinguished from one
another, consist in the various kinds of Barbarities which they
execute upon their Prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy
Dexterity in tipping the Lion upon them; which is performed by
squeezing the Nose flat to the Face, and boring out the Eyes with
their Fingers: Others are called the Dancing-Masters, and teach their
Scholars to cut Capers by running Swords thro their Legs; a new
Invention, whether originally French I cannot tell: A third sort are
the Tumblers, whose office it is to set Women on their Heads, and
commit certain Indecencies, or rather Barbarities, on the Limbs which
they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they cant but be
very shocking to the Reader as well as the SPECTATOR. In this manner
they carry on a War against Mankind; and by the standing Maxims of
their Policy, are to enter into no Alliances but one, and that is
Offensive and Defensive with all Bawdy-Houses in general, of which
they have declared themselves Protectors and Guarantees. [2]

I must own, Sir, these are only broken incoherent Memoirs of this
wonderful Society, but they are the best I have been yet able to
procure; for being but of late Establishment, it is not ripe for a
just History; And to be serious, the chief Design of this Trouble is
to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleas'd, out of a
concern for the good of your Countrymen, to act under the Character of
SPECTATOR, not only the Part of a Looker-on, but an Overseer of their
Actions; and whenever such Enormities as this infest the Town, we
immediately fly to you for Redress. I have reason to believe, that
some thoughtless Youngsters, out of a false Notion of Bravery, and an
immoderate Fondness to be distinguished for Fellows of Fire, are
insensibly hurry'd into this senseless scandalous Project: Such will
probably stand corrected by your Reproofs, especially if you inform
them, that it is not Courage for half a score Fellows, mad with Wine
and Lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that
the Manners of Indian Savages are no becoming Accomplishments to an
English fine Gentleman. Such of them as have been Bullies and Scowrers
of a long standing, and are grown Veterans in this kind of Service,
are, I fear, too hardned to receive any Impressions from your
Admonitions. But I beg you would recommend to their Perusal your ninth
Speculation: They may there be taught to take warning from the Club of
Duellists; and be put in mind, that the common Fate of those Men of
Honour was to be hang'd.

I am, SIR,

Your most humble Servant,

Philanthropos

March the 10th, 1711-12.

The following Letter is of a quite contrary nature; but I add it here, that the Reader may observe at the same View, how amiable Ignorance may be when it is shewn in its Simplicities, and how detestable in Barbarities. It is written by an honest Countryman to his Mistress, and came to the Hands of a Lady of good Sense wrapped about a Thread-Paper, who has long kept it by her as an Image of artless Love.

To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.

The rest is torn off; [3] and Posterity must be contented to know, that Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty, but are left in the dark as to the Name of her Lover.

[Footnote 1:

[Sævis inter se convenit Ursis.

Juv.]]

[Footnote 2: Gay tells also in his Trivia that the Mohocks rolled women in hogs-heads down Snow hill. Swift wrote of the Mohocks, at this time, in his Journal to Stella,

Grub-street papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed
of near eighty put into several prisons, and all a lie, and I begin to
think there is no truth, or very little, in the whole story.

On the 18th of March an attempt was made to put the Mohocks down by Royal Proclamation.]

[Footnote 3: This letter is said to have been really sent to one who married Mr. Cole, a Northampton attorney, by a neighbouring freeholder named Gabriel Bullock, and shown to Steele by his friend the antiquary, Browne Willis. See also No. 328.]

* * * * *

No. 325. Thursday, March 13, 1712. Budgell

Quid frustra Simulacra fugacia captas?
Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.
Ista repercussæ quam cernis imaginis umbra est,
Nil habet ista sui; tecum venitque, manetque,
Tecum discedet si tu discedere possis.

Ovid.

WILL. HONEYCOMB diverted us last Night with an Account of a young Fellows first discovering his Passion to his Mistress. The young Lady was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable Opinion of him, and was still in hopes that he would some time or other make his Advances. As he was one day talking with her in Company of her two Sisters, the Conversation happening to turn upon Love, each of the young Ladies was by way of Raillery, recommending a Wife to him; when, to the no small Surprize of her who languished for him in secret, he told them with a more than ordinary Seriousness, that his Heart had been long engaged to one whose Name he thought himself obliged in Honour to conceal; but that he could shew her Picture in the Lid of his Snuff-box. The young Lady, who found herself the most sensibly touched by this Confession, took the first Opportunity that offered of snatching his Box out of his Hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it, but finding her resolved to look into the Lid, begged her, that if she should happen to know the Person, she would not reveal her Name. Upon carrying it to the Window, she was very agreeably surprized to find there was nothing within the Lid but a little Looking-Glass, in which, after she had view'd her own Face with more Pleasure than she had ever done before, she returned the Box with a Smile, telling him, she could not but admire at his Choice.

WILL. fancying that his Story took, immediately fell into a Dissertation on the Usefulness of Looking-Glasses, and applying himself to me, asked, if there were any Looking Glasses in the Times of the Greeks and Romans; for that he had often observed in the Translations of Poems out of those Languages, that People generally talked of seeing themselves in Wells, Fountains, Lakes, and Rivers: Nay, says he, I remember Mr. Dryden in his Ovid tells us of a swingeing Fellow, called Polypheme, that made use of the Sea for his Looking-Glass, and could never dress himself to Advantage but in a Calm.

My Friend WILL, to shew us the whole Compass of his Learning upon this Subject, further informed us, that there were still several Nations in the World so very barbarous as not to have any Looking-Glasses among them; and that he had lately read a Voyage to the South-Sea, in which it is said, that the Ladies of Chili always dress their Heads over a Bason of Water.

I am the more particular in my Account of WILL'S last Night's Lecture on these natural Mirrors, as it seems to bear some Relation to the following Letter, which I received the Day before.

SIR,

I have read your last Saturdays Observations on the Fourth Book of
Milton with great Satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the
hidden Moral, which you have taken notice of in several Parts of the
Poem. The Design of this Letter is to desire your Thoughts, whether
there may not also be some Moral couched under that Place in the same
Book where the Poet lets us know, that the first Woman immediately
after her Creation ran to a Looking-Glass, and became so enamoured of
her own Face, that she had never removed to view any of the other
Works of Nature, had not she been led off to a Man. If you think fit
to set down the whole Passage from Milton, your Readers will be able
to judge for themselves, and the Quotation will not a little
contribute to the filling up of your Paper.
Your humble Servant,
R. T.

The last Consideration urged by my Querist is so strong, that I cannot forbear closing with it. The Passage he alludes to, is part of Eves Speech to Adam, and one of the most beautiful Passages in the whole Poem.

That Day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awaked, and found my self repos d
Under a shade of flowrs, much wondering where
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence a murmuring Sound
Of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread
Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved
Pure as th' Expanse of Heavn: I thither went
With unexperienced Thought, and laid me down
On the green Bank, to look into the clear
Smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A Shape within the watry Gleam appeared
Bending to look on me; I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon returned,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering Looks
Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fix d
Mine Eyes till now, and pined with vain Desire,
Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays
Thy coming, and thy soft Embraces, he
Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy
Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
Mother of Human Race. What could I do,
But follow streight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a Platan, yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watry Image: back I turn'd,
Thou following crydst aloud, Return fair Eve,
Whom flyst thou? whom thou flyst, of him thou art,
His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being, I lent
Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart,
Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
Henceforth an individual Solace dear.
Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half!---With that thy gentle hand
Seized mine, I yielded, and from that time see
How Beauty is excell'd by manly Grace,
And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
So spake our general Mother,--

* * * * *

No. 326. Friday, March 14, 1712. Steele.

Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea
Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum
Tristes exubiæ, munierant satis
Nocturnis ab adulteris;
Si non--

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Your Correspondents Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your
subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you
a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained
of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.

I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It
is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon
which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that
for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moments Rest. I
look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as
constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a
Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well
secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four
Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any
other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a
Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on
constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins
planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given
frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of
all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by
reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely
drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of
attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common
Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter
from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But
to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand
for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill
Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore
desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon
which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be
taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that
some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to
bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game.
I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant.

Mile-End-Green, March 6, 1711-12.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the
Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal
towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened
at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let
him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the
Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an
Opportunity to break his Mind.
I am, SIR,
Your humble Servant,
Mary Comfitt.

If I observe he cannot speak, Ill give him time to recover himself,
and ask him how he does.

Dear SIR,
I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity
give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear
that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as
monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they
say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desir'd by the
Mother. I have been marry'd upwards of six Years, have had four
Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has
put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy
with them, would not only have handsomely defray'd the Charges of the
Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for
the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects
of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and
Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few
of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home
one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation,
whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair
of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week
longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within
that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily comply'd with.
Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she
should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the
old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her
Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her
Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have
furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of
being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose
upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by
good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her
Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought
her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the
Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those
of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or
the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be
contented tho I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or
Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl
again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending twill make the
Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her
Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I
have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were
coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast
upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to
partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman
to cut her off a Slice as if twere for himself, which the Fellow did;
and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite,
that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will
be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if
there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of
Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your
Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in
every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father
should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall
impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and am
SIR,
Your most Obliged, and
most Faithful Humble Servant,
T.B.

Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much
as Molly does China-Ware.

* * * * *

No. 327. Saturday, March 15, 1712. Addison.

Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.

Virg.

We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon Eve as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity, Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first Part of the fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking finds Eve still asleep, with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd to a Lovers Ear.

His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve
With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek,
As through unquiet Rest: he on his side
Leaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial Love
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake
My Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found,
Heavns last best Gift, my ever new Delight!
Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field
Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring
Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,
How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee
Sits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.

Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled Eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake:

O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,
My Glory, my Perfection! glad I see
Thy Face, and Morn return'd----

I cannot but take notice that Milton, in the Conferences between Adam and Eve, had his Eye very frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the Age of Solomon. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and
come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the
Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come,
and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth
forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good
Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.

Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early
to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender
Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.

His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that

--Where the Sapient King
Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,

shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.

Eves Dream is full of those high Conceits engendring Pride, which, we are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by Adam in the following beautiful Lines.

Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant Time,
The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields
To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reigns
Full orb'd the Moon, and with more [pleasing [1]] Light
Shadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain,
If none regard. Heavn wakes with all his Eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, Natures Desire,
In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment,
Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!

An injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk thro the whole Work in such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the Courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be heard by Eve in her State of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho the Catastrophe of the Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho the Vision it self is founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, conformable to his superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this occasion.

So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,
But silently a gentle Tear let fall
From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair;
Two other precious Drops, that ready stood
Each in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fell
Kiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet Remorse
And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.

The Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of one of those Psalms, where, in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the Psalmist calls not only upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of Gods Works, and awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness of that Resolution with which it concludes.

Having already mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet [gives [2]] of Raphael. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As Milton every where fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing, he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through it.

Till at the Gate
Of Heavn arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide,
On golden Hinges turning, as by Work
Divine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.

The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th Iliad, as that in particular, where speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner. Scaliger has rallied Homer very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether in this particular of Homer the Marvellous does not lose sight of the Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of Milton's Gates is not so extraordinary as this of the Tripodes, so I am persuaded he would not have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims, whom they accompanied.

There is no question but Milton had this Circumstance in his Thoughts, because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the Messiah with living Wheels, according to the Plan in Ezekiel's Vision.

--Forth rush'd with Whirlwind sound
The Chariot of paternal Deity
Flashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn,
Itself instinct with Spirit--

I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers, who are for vindicating every thing that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in Holy Writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting Vulcan's Tripodes with Ezekiel's Wheels.

Raphael's Descent to the Earth, with the Figure of his Person, is represented in very lively Colours. Several of the French, Italian and English Poets have given a Loose to their Imaginations in the Description of Angels: But I do not remember to have met with any so finely drawn, and so conformable to the Notions which are given of them in Scripture, as this in Milton. After having set him forth in all his Heavenly Plumage, and represented him as alighting upon the Earth, the Poet concludes his Description with a Circumstance, which is altogether new, and imagined with the greatest Strength of Fancy.

--Like Maia's Son he stood,
And shook his Plumes, that Heavnly Fragrance fill'd
The Circuit wide.--

Raphael's Reception by the Guardian Angels; his passing through the Wilderness of Sweets; his distant Appearance to Adam, have all the Graces that Poetry is capable of bestowing. The Author afterwards gives us a particular Description of Eve in her Domestick Employments

So saying, with dispatchful Looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable Thoughts intent,
What Choice to chuse for Delicacy best,
What order, so contrived, as not to mix
Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after Taste; upheld with kindliest Change;
Bestirs her then, &c.--

Though in this, and other Parts of the same Book, the Subject is only the Housewifry of our first Parent, it is set off with so many pleasing Images and strong Expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable Parts in this Divine Work.

The natural Majesty of Adam, and at the same time his submissive Behaviour to the Superior Being, who had vouchsafed to be his Guest; the solemn Hail which the Angel bestows upon the Mother of Mankind, with the Figure of Eve ministring at the Table, are Circumstances which deserve to be admired.

Raphael's Behaviour is every way suitable to the Dignity of his Nature, and to that Character of a sociable Spirit, with which the Author has so judiciously introduced him. He had received Instructions to converse with Adam, as one Friend converses with another, and to warn him of the Enemy, who was contriving his Destruction: Accordingly he is represented as sitting down at Table with Adam, and eating of the Fruits of Paradise. The Occasion naturally leads him to his Discourse on the Food of Angels. After having thus entered into Conversation with Man upon more indifferent Subjects, he warns him of his Obedience, and makes natural Transition to the History of that fallen Angel, who was employ'd in the Circumvention of our first Parents.

Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's Method in my first Paper of Milton, I should have dated the Action of Paradise Lost from the Beginning of Raphael's Speech in this Book, as he supposes the Action of the Æneid to begin in the second Book of that Poem. I could allege many Reasons for my drawing the Action of the Æneid rather from its immediate Beginning in the first Book, than from its remote Beginning in the second; and shew why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an Episode, according to the common Acceptation of that Word. But as this would be a dry unentertaining Piece of Criticism, and perhaps unnecessary to those who have read my first Paper, I shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the Notions be true, the Unity of Milton's Action is preserved according to either of them; whether we consider the Fall of Man in its immediate Beginning, as proceeding from the Resolutions taken in the infernal Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceeding from the first Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. The Occasion which Milton assigns for this Revolt, as it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the Opinion of some great Writers, so it was the most proper that the Poet could have made use of.

The Revolt in Heaven is described with great Force of Imagination and a fine Variety of Circumstances. The learned Reader cannot but be pleased with the Poets Imitation of Homer in the last of the following Lines.

At length into the Limits of the North
They came, and Satan took his Royal Seat
High on a Hill, far blazing, as a Mount
Rais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Towrs
From Diamond Quarries hewn, and Rocks of Gold,
The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call
That Structure in the Dialect of Men
Interpreted)--

Homer mentions Persons and Things, which he tells us in the Language of the Gods are call'd by different Names from those they go by in the Language of Men. Milton has imitated him with his usual Judgment in this particular Place, wherein he has likewise the Authority of Scripture to justifie him. The Part of Abdiel, who was the only Spirit that in this infinite Host of Angels preserved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The Zeal of the Seraphim breaks forth in a becoming Warmth of Sentiments and Expressions, as the Character which is given us of him denotes that generous Scorn and Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. The Author doubtless designed it as a Pattern to those who live among Mankind in their present State of Degeneracy and Corruption.

So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he;
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd;
His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal:
Nor Number, nor Example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant Mind,
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,
Long way through [hostile] Scorn, which he sustain'd
Superior, nor of Violence fear'd ought;
And, with retorted Scorn, his Back he turn'd
On those proud Towrs to swift Destruction doom'd.

[Footnote 1: [pleasant]

[Footnote 2: [gives us]]

* * * * *

No. 328 [1] Monday, March 17, 1712. Steele.

Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.

Petron. Arb.

That useful Part of Learning which consists in Emendation, Knowledge of different Readings, and the like, is what in all Ages Persons extremely wise and learned have had in great Veneration. For this reason I cannot but rejoyce at the following Epistle, which lets us into the true Author of the Letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the Honour to publish in a former Paper. I must confess I do not naturally affect critical Learning; but finding my self not so much regarded as I am apt to flatter my self I may deserve from some professed Patrons of Learning, I could not but do my self the Justice to shew I am not a Stranger to such Erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly encouraged. However this only to let the World see what I could do; and shall not give my Reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the Ostentation I shew at present.

March 13, 1712.

SIR,
Upon reading your Paper of yesterday, [2] I took the Pains to look
out a Copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your
last Letter: Comparing them, I found they were the very same, and
have, underwritten, sent you that Part of it which you say was torn
off. I hope you will insert it, that Posterity may know twas Gabriel
Bullock that made Love in that natural Stile of which you seem to be
fond. But, to let you see I have other Manuscripts in the same Way, I
have sent you Enclosed three Copies, faithfully taken by my own Hand
from the Originals, which were writ by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good
estate to Madam Mary, and an Uncle of hers, a Knight very well known
by the most ancient Gentry in that and several other Counties of Great
Britain. I have exactly followed the Form and Spelling. I have been
credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous Comedian, is
the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullocks great
grandfather on the Body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark.
But neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, taking notice of it, I will
not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be
reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italic.
I am, SIR,
Your daily Reader.

_To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark._

Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray
you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to
enjoy the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes
when I had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Power at the
apothecary's shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more
keep close my flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the
more bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own
Man, and may match where I please; for my Father is taken away; and
now I am come to my Living, which is ten yard Land, and a House; and
there is never a Yard Land [3] in our Field but is as well worth ten
Pound a Year, as a Thief's worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and
Sisters are provided for: besides I have good Household Stuff,
though I say it, both Brass and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and
though my House be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go
hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well
of this Motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new Cloaths is
made, and Hay-Harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have good
_Matches in our Town; but my Mother (Gods Peace be with her)
charged me upon her Death-Bed to marry a Gentlewoman, one who had
been well trained up in Sowing and Cookery. I do not think but that
if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our Means together, I shall
be made grand Jury-man e'er two or three Years come about, and that
will be a great Credit to us. If I could have got a Messenger for
Sixpence, I would have sent one on Purpose, and some Trifle or other
for a Token of my Love; but I hope there is nothing lost for that
neither. So hoping you will take this Letter in good Part, and
answer it with what Care and Speed you can, I rest and remain,_
Yours, if my own, MR. GABRIEL BULLOCK, now my father is dead.

Swepston, Leicestershire.

When the Coal Carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one
of them my self.

For sir William to go to london at westminster, remember a
parlement.

Sir William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that
i am in troubel abbut a lady you nease; and I do desire that you
will be my frend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was
mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would
not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our frends, for
it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all.
i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man:
and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated
two i beleive. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but
her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our harts, if
you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if
God be willing and if you pleased, so be not angterie till you know
the trutes of things.

George Nelon I give my to me lady, and to Mr. Aysenby, and to
madam norton March, the 19th; 1706.

This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.

Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, i hope you are well. Do not go
to london, for they will put you in the nunnery; and heed not Mrs.
Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to
another Place, and we will gate wed so with speed, mind what i write
to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and
so let us gate wed, and we will both go. so if you go to london, you
rueing your self, so heed not what none of them saith to you. let us
gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing
for you to my poore. i hope the devill will faile them all, for a
hellish Company there be. from there cursed trick and mischiefus
ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.

I think to be at york the 24 day.

This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that
belongs to dishforth.

Madam Mary, i hope you are well, i am soary that you went away from
York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do
remain faithful; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will
wed you, and I will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good
woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if
you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will
have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and
with speed come: heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid
makes you believe ought.

So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent you 2
or 3 letters before.

I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the
night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and i did gat cold.

But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and
round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will
tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell.
March 19th, 1706.

[Footnote 1: This paper is No. 328 in the original issue, but Steele omitted it from the reprint and gave in its place the paper by Addison which here stands next to it marked with the same number, 328. The paper of Addison's had formed no part of the original issue. Of the original No. 328 Steele inserted a censure at the end of No. 330.]

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The Spectator, Volumes 1, 2 and 3Chapter LVIII: Introduction (58)

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