Chapter XCV: Letter I: found that Will was fallen off from his former Gayety, having (4)

'Our Goodness being of a comparative, and not an absolute nature,
there is none who in strictness can be called a Virtuous Man. Every
one has in him a natural Alloy, tho' one may be fuller of Dross than
another: For this reason I cannot think it right to introduce a
perfect or a faultless Man upon the Stage; not only because such a
Character is improper to move Compassion, but because there is no such
a thing in Nature. This might probably be one Reason why the SPECTATOR
in one of his Papers took notice of that late invented Term called
_Poetical Justice_, and the wrong Notions into which it has led some
Tragick Writers. The most perfect Man has Vices enough to draw down
Punishments upon his Head, and to justify Providence in regard to any
Miseries that may befal him. For this reason I cannot think, but that
the Instruction and Moral are much finer, where a Man who is virtuous
in the main of his Character falls into Distress, and sinks under the
Blows of Fortune at the End of a Tragedy, than when he is represented
as Happy and Triumphant. Such an Example corrects the Insolence of
Human Nature, softens the Mind of the Beholder with Sentiments of Pity
and Compassion, comforts him under his own private Affliction, and
teaches him not to judge Mens Virtues by their Successes. I cannot
think of one real Hero in all Antiquity so far raised above Human
Infirmities, that he might not be very naturally represented in a
Tragedy as plunged in Misfortunes and Calamities. The Poet may still
find out some prevailing Passion or Indiscretion in his Character, and
shew it in such a Manner, as will sufficiently acquit the Gods of any
Injustice in his Sufferings. For as _Horace_ observes in my Text, the
best Man is faulty, tho' not in so great a degree as those whom we
generally call vicious Men.

'If such a strict Poetical Justice, as some Gentlemen insist upon, was
to be observed in this Art, there is no manner of Reason why it should
not extend to Heroick Poetry, as well as Tragedy. But we find it so
little observed in _Homer_, that his _Achilles_ is placed in the
greatest point of Glory and Success, though his Character is Morally
Vicious, and only Poetically Good, if I may use the Phrase of our
modern Criticks. The _Æneid_ is filled with Innocent, unhappy Persons.
_Nisus_ and _Eurialus, Lausus_ and _Pallas_ come all to unfortunate
Ends. The Poet takes Notice in particular, that in the Sacking of
_Troy, Ripheus_ fell, who was the most just Man among the _Trojans_.

'--Cadit et Ripheus justissimus unus,
Qui fuit in Teucris et servantissimus Æqui:
Dijs aliter visum est--'

'And that _Pantheus_ could neither be preserved by his transcendent
Piety, nor by the holy Fillets of _Apollo_, whose Priest he was.

'--nec Te tua plurima Pantheu
Labentem pietas, nec Apollinis infula texit.'

(Æn. 1. 2.)

'I might here mention the Practice of ancient Tragick Poets, both
_Greek_ and _Latin_; but as this Particular is touched upon in the
Paper above-mentioned, I shall pass it over in Silence. I could
produce Passages out of _Aristotle_ in favour of my Opinion, and if in
one Place he says that an absolutely Virtuous Man should not be
represented as unhappy, this does not justifie any one who shall think
fit to bring in an absolutely virtuous Man upon the Stage. Those who
are acquainted with that Author's Way of Writing, know very well, that
to take the whole extent of his Subject into his Divisions of it, he
often makes use of such Cases as are imaginary, and not reducible to
Practice: He himself declares that such Tragedies as ended unhappily
bore away the Prize in Theatrical Contentions, from those which ended
happily; and for the Fortieth Speculation, which I am now considering,
as it has given Reasons why these are more apt to please an Audience,
so it only proves that these are generally preferable to the other,
tho' at the same time it affirms that many excellent Tragedies have
and may be written in both kinds.

['I shall conclude with observing, that though the _Spectator_
above-mentioned is so far against the Rule of Poetical Justice, as to
affirm, that good Men may meet with an unhappy Catastrophe in Tragedy,
it does not say that ill Men may go off unpunished. The Reason for
this Distinction is very plain, namely, because the best of Men are
vicious enough to justify Providence for any Misfortunes and
Afflictions which may befal them, but there are many Men so criminal
that they can have no Claim or Pretence to Happiness. The best of Men
may deserve Punishment, but the worst of Men cannot deserve
Happiness.']

[Footnote 1: Unacknowledged, but doubtless by Addison, who took this indirect way of answering Dennis. Addison's hand is further shown by the addition made to the reprint.]

* * * * *

No. 549. Saturday, November 29, 1712. Addison.

'Quamvis digressu veteris confusus amici,
Laudo tamen--'

Juv.

I believe most People begin the World with a Resolution to withdraw from it into a serious kind of Solitude or Retirement, when they have made themselves easie in it. Our Unhappiness is, that we find out some Excuse or other for deferring such our good Resolutions till our intended Retreat is cut off by Death. But among all kinds of People there are none who are so hard to part with the World, as those who are grown old in the heaping up of Riches. Their Minds are so warped with their constant Attention to Gain, that it is very difficult for them to give their Souls another Bent, and convert them towards those Objects, which, though they are proper for every Stage of Life, are so more especially for the last. _Horace_ describes an old Usurer as so charmed with the Pleasures of a Country Life, that in order to make a Purchase he called in all his Mony; but what was the Event of it? Why in a very few Days after he put it out again. I am engaged in this Series of Thought by a Discourse which I had last Week with my worthy Friend Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, a Man of so much natural Eloquence, good Sense, and Probity of Mind, that I always hear him with a particular Pleasure. As we were sitting together, being the sole remaining Members of our Club, Sir ANDREW gave me an Account of the many busie Scenes of Life in which he had been engaged, and at the same time reckoned up to me abundance of those lucky Hits, which at another time he would have called pieces of good Fortune; but in the Temper of Mind he was then, he termed them Mercies, Favours of Providence, and Blessings upon an honest Industry. Now, says he, you must know my good Friend, I am so used to consider my self as Creditor and Debtor, that I often state my Accounts after the same manner with regard to Heaven and my own Soul. In this case, when I look upon the Debtor-side, I find such innumerable Articles, that I want Arithmetick to cast them up; but when I look upon the Creditor-side, I find little more than blank Paper. Now though I am very well satisfied that it is not in my power to ballance Accounts with my Maker, I am resolved however to turn all my future Endeavours that way. You must not therefore be surprized, my Friend, if you hear that I am betaking my self to a more thoughtful kind of Life, and if I meet you no more in this Place.

I could not but approve so good a Resolution, notwithstanding the Loss I shall suffer by it. Sir ANDREW has since explained himself to me more at large in the following Letter, which is just come to my hands.

_Good Mr._ SPECTATOR,

'Notwithstanding my Friends at the Club have always rallied me, when I
have talked of retiring from Business, and repeated to me one of my
own Sayings, _That a Merchant has never enough till he has got a
little more_; I can now inform you, that there is one in the World who
thinks he has enough, and is determined to pass the Remainder of his
Life in the Enjoyment of what he has. You know me so well, that I need
not tell you, I mean, by the Enjoyment of my Possessions, the making
of them useful to the Publick. As the greatest part of my Estate has
been hitherto of an unsteady and volatile nature, either tost upon
Seas or fluctuating in Funds; it is now fixed and settled in
Substantial Acres and Tenements. I have removed it from the
Uncertainty of Stocks, Winds and Waves, and disposed of it in a
considerable Purchase. This will give me great Opportunity of being
charitable in my way, that is, in setting my poor Neighbours to Work,
and giving them a comfortable Subsistence out of their own Industry.
My Gardens, my Fish-ponds, my Arable and Pasture Grounds shall be my
several Hospitals, or rather Work-houses, in which I propose to
maintain a great many indigent Persons, who are now starving in my
Neighbourhood. I have got a fine Spread of improveable Lands, and in
my own Thoughts am already plowing up some of them, fencing others;
planting Woods, and draining Marshes. In fine, as I have my share in
the Surface of this Island, I am resolved to make it as beautiful a
Spot as any in her Majesty's Dominions; at least there is not an Inch
of it which shall not be cultivated to the best Advantage, and do its
utmost for its Owner. As in my Mercantile Employment I so disposed of
my Affairs, that from whatever Corner of the Compass the Wind blew, it
was bringing home one or other of my Ships; I hope, as a Husbandman,
to contrive it so, that not a Shower of Rain, or a Glimpse of
Sunshine, shall fall upon my Estate without bettering some part of it,
and contributing to the Products of the Season. You know it has been
hitherto my Opinion of Life, that it is thrown away when it is not
some way useful to others. But when I am riding out by my self, in the
fresh Air on the open Heath that lies by my House, I find several
other Thoughts growing up in me. I am now of opinion that a Man [of my
Age] may find Business enough on himself, by setting his Mind in
order, preparing it for another World, and reconciling it to the
Thoughts of Death. I must therefore acquaint you, that besides those
usual Methods of Charity, of which I have before spoken, I am at this
very Instant finding out a convenient Place where I may build an
Alms-house, which I intend to endow very handsomely, for a Dozen
superannuated Husbandmen. It will be a great pleasure to me to say my
Prayers twice a-day with Men of my own [Years [1]], who all of them,
as well as my self, may have their Thoughts taken up how they shall
die, rather than how they shall live. I remember an excellent Saying
that I learned at School, _Finis coronat opus_. You know best whether
it be in _Virgil_ or in _Horace_, it is my business to apply it. If
your Affairs will permit you to take the Country Air with me
sometimes, you shall find an Apartment fitted up for you, and shall be
every day entertained with Beef or Mutton of my own feeding; Fish out
of my own Ponds; and Fruit out of my own Garden[s]. You shall have
free Egress and Regress about my House, without having any Questions
asked you, and in a Word such an hearty Welcome as you may expect from

_Your most sincere Friend
and humble Servant,_

ANDREW FREEPORT.

The Club, of which I am Member, being entirely dispersed, I shall consult my Reader next Week, upon a Project relating to the Institution of a new one.

O.

[Footnote 1: Age.]

* * * * *

No. 550. Monday, December 1, 1712. Addison.

'Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor HIATU?'

Hor.

Since the late Dissolution of the Club whereof I have often declared my self a Member, there are very many Persons who by Letters, Petitions, and Recommendations, put up for the next Election. At the same time I must complain, that several indirect and underhand Practices have been made use of upon this Occasion. A certain Country Gentleman begun to _tapp_ upon the first Information he received of Sir ROGER'S Death; when he sent me up word, that if I would get him chosen in the Place of the Deceased, he would present me with a Barrel of the best _October_ I had ever drank in my Life. The Ladies are in great Pain to know whom I intend to elect in the Room of WILL. HONEYCOMBE. Some of them indeed are of Opinion that Mr. HONEYCOMBE did not take sufficient care of their Interests in the Club, and are therefore desirous of having in it hereafter a Representative of their own Sex. A Citizen who subscribes himself _Y. Z._ tells me that he has one and twenty Shares in the _African_ Company, and offers to bribe me with the odd one in case he may succeed Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, which he thinks would raise the Credit of that Fund. I have several Letters, dated from _Fenny Man's_, by Gentlemen who are Candidates for Capt. SENTRY'S Place, and as many from a Coffee-House in _Paul's_ Church-yard of such who would fill up the Vacancy occasioned by the Death of my worthy Friend the Clergyman, whom I can never mention but with a particular Respect.

Having maturely weighed these several Particulars, with the many Remonstrances that have been made to me on this Subject, and considering how invidious an Office I shall take upon me, if I make the whole Election depend upon my single Voice, and being unwilling to expose my self to those Clamours, which, on such an Occasion, will not fail to be raised against me for Partiality, Injustice, Corruption, and other Qualities which my Nature abhors, I have formed to my self the Project of a Club as follows.

I have thoughts of issuing out Writs to all and every of the Clubs that are established in the Cities of _London_ and _Westminster_, requiring them to chuse out of their respective Bodies a Person of the greatest Merit, and to return his name to me before _Lady-day_, at which time I intend to sit upon Business.

By this means I may have Reason to hope, that the Club over which I shall preside will be the very Flower and Quintescence of all other Clubs. I have communicated this my Project to none but a particular Friend of mine, whom I have celebrated twice or thrice for his Happiness in that kind of Wit which is commonly known by the Name of a Punn. The only Objection he makes to it is, that I shall raise up Enemies to my self if I act with so regal an Air; and that my Detractors, instead of giving me the usual Title of SPECTATOR, will be apt to call me the _King of Clubs_.

But to proceed on my intended Project: It is very well known that I at first set forth in this Work with the Character of a silent Man; and I think I have so well preserved my Taciturnity, that I do not remember to have violated it with three Sentences in the space of almost two Years. As a Monosyllable is my Delight, I have made very few Excursions in the Conversations which I have related beyond a Yes or a No. By this Means my Readers have lost many good things which I have had in my Heart, though I did not care for uttering them.

Now in order to diversify my Character, and to shew the World how well I can talk if I have a Mind, I have Thoughts of being very loquacious in the Club which I have now under Consideration. But that I may proceed the more regularly in this Affair, I design, upon the first Meeting of the said Club, to have _my Mouth opened_ in form; intending to regulate my self in this Particular by a certain Ritual which I have by me, that contains all the Ceremonies which are practised at the opening of the Mouth of a Cardinal. I have likewise examined the forms which were used of old by _Pythagoras_, when any of his Scholars, after an Apprenticeship of Silence, was made free of his Speech. In the mean time, as I have of late found my Name in foreign Gazettes upon less Occasions, I question not but in their next Articles from _Great Britain_, they will inform the World that _the_ SPECTATOR'S _Mouth is to be opened on the twenty-fifth of_ March _next_. [1] I may perhaps publish a very useful Paper at that Time of the Proceedings in that Solemnity, and of the Persons who shall assist at it. But of this more hereafter.

O.

[Footnote 1: On the twelfth of the following March appeared the first number of Steele's _Guardian_. Addison's attempt to revive the _Spectator_ was not made until June, 1714.]

* * * * *

No. 551. Tuesday, December 2, 1712.

'Sic Honor et Nomen divinis vatibus atque
Carminibus venit.'

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

When Men of worthy and excelling Genius's have obliged the World with
beautiful and instructive Writings, it is in the nature of Gratitude
that Praise should be returned them, as one proper consequent Reward
of their Performances. Nor has Mankind ever been so degenerately sunk,
but they have made this Return, and even when they have not been
wrought up by the generous Endeavour so as to receive the Advantages
designed by it. This Praise, which arises first in the Mouth of
particular Persons, spreads and lasts according to the Merit of
Authors; and when it thus meets with a full Success changes its
Denomination, and is called _Fame_. They who have happily arrived at
this, are, even while they live, enflamed by the Acknowledgments of
others, and spurred on to new Undertakings for the Benefit of Mankind,
notwithstanding the Detraction which some abject Tempers would cast
upon them: But when they decease, their Characters being freed from
the Shadow which _Envy_ laid them under, begin to shine out with
greater Splendour; their Spirits survive in their Works; they are
admitted into the highest Companies, and they continue pleasing and
instructing Posterity from Age to Age. Some of the best gain a
Character, by being able to shew that they are no Strangers to them;
and others obtain a new Warmth to labour for the Happiness and Ease of
Mankind, from a Reflection upon those Honours which are paid to their
Memories.

The Thought of this took me up as I turned over those Epigrams which
are the Remains of several of the _Wits_ of _Greece_, and perceived
many dedicated to the Fame of those who had excelled in beautiful
poetick Performances. Wherefore, in pursuance to my Thought, I
concluded to do something along with them to bring their Praises into
a new Light and Language, for the Encouragement of those whose modest
Tempers may be deterr'd by the Fear of Envy or Detraction from fair
Attempts, to which their Parts might render them equal. You will
perceive them as they follow to be conceived in the form of Epitaphs,
a sort of Writing which is wholly set apart for a short pointed Method
of Praise.

On _Orpheus_, written by _Antipater_.

'No longer_, Orpheus, _shall thy sacred Strains
Lead Stones, and Trees, and Beasts along the Plains;
No longer sooth the boistrous Wind to sleep,
Or still the Billows of the raging Deep:
For thou art gone, the Muses mourn'd thy Fall
In solemn Strains, thy Mother most of all.
Ye Mortals, idly for your Sons ye moan,
If thus a Goddess could not save her own.'

Observe here, that if we take the Fable for granted, as it was
believed to be in that Age when the Epigram was written, the Turn
appears to have Piety to the Gods, and a resigning Spirit in its
Application. But if we consider the Point with respect to our present
Knowledge, it will be less esteem'd; though the Author himself,
because he believ'd it, may still be more valued than any one who
should now write with a Point of the same Nature.

On _Homer_, by _Alpheus_ of _Mytilene_.

'Still in our Ears_ Andromache _complains,
And still in sight the Fate of_ Troy _remains;
Still_ Ajax _fights, still_ Hector's _dragg'd along,
Such strange Enchantment dwells in_ Homer's _Song;
Whose Birth cou'd more than one poor Realm adorn,
For all the World is proud that he was born.'

The Thought in the first part of this is natural, and depending upon
the Force of Poesy: In the latter part it looks as if it would aim at
the History of seven Towns contending for the Honour of _Homer's_
Birth-place; but when you expect to meet with that common Story, the
Poet slides by, and raises the whole _World_ for a kind of _Arbiter_,
which is to end the Contention amongst its several Parts.

On _Anacreon_ by _Antipater._

'This Tomb be thine,_ Anacreon; _all around
Let Ivy wreath, let Flourets deck the Ground,
And from its Earth, enrich'd with such a Prize,
Let Wells of Milk and Streams of Wine arise:
So will thine Ashes yet a Pleasure know,
If any Pleasure reach the Shades below.'

The Poet here written upon, is an easy gay Author, and he who writes
upon him has filled his own Head with the Character of his Subject. He
seems to love his Theme so much, that he thinks of nothing but
pleasing him as if he were still alive, by entering into his Libertine
Spirit; so that the Humour is easy and gay, resembling _Anacreon_ in
its Air, raised by such Images, and pointed with such a Turn as he
might have used. I give it a place here, because the Author may have
design'd it for his Honour; and I take an Opportunity from it to
advise others, that when they would praise, they cautiously avoid
every looser Qualification, and fix only where there is a real
Foundation in Merit.

On _Euripides_, by _Ion._

'Divine_ Euripides, _this Tomb we see
So fair, is not a Monument for thee,
So much as thou for it, since all will own
Thy Name and lasting Praise adorns the Stone.'

The Thought here is fine, but its Fault is, that it is general, that
it may belong to any great Man, because it points out no particular
Character. It would be better, if when we light upon such a Turn, we
join it with something that circumscribes and bounds it to the
Qualities of our Subject. He who gives his Praise in gross, will often
appear either to have been a Stranger to those he writes upon, or not
to have found any thing in them which is Praise-worthy.

On _Sophocles_, by _Simonides_.

'Winde, gentle Ever-green, to form a Shade
Around the Tomb where_ Sophocles _is laid;
Sweet Ivy winde thy Boughs, and intertwine
With blushing Roses and the clustring Vine:
Thus will thy lasting Leaves, with Beauties hung,
Prove grateful Emblems of the Lays he sung;
Whose Soul, exalted like a_ God _of_ Wit,
_Among the_ Muses _and the_ Graces _writ.'

This Epigram I have open'd more than any of the former: The Thought
towards the latter End seemed closer couched, so as to require an
Explication. I fancied the Poet aimed at the Picture which is
generally made of _Apollo_ and the _Muses_, he sitting with his Harp
in the Middle, and they around him. This look'd beautiful to my
Thought, and because the Image arose before me out of the Words of the
Original as I was reading it, I venture to explain them so.

On _Menander_, the Author unnamed.

'The very Bees, O sweet_ Menander, _hung
To taste the_ Muses _Spring upon thy Tongue;
The very_ Graces _made the Scenes you writ
Their happy Point of fine Expression hit.
Thus still you live, you make your_ Athens _shine,
And raise its Glory to the Skies in thine.'

This Epigram has a respect to the Character of its Subject; for
_Menander_ writ remarkably with a Justness and Purity of Language. It
has also told the Country he was born in, without either a set or a
hidden Manner, while it twists together the Glory of the Poet and his
Nation, so as to make the Nation depend upon his for an Encrease of
its own.

I will offer no more Instances at present, to shew that they who
deserve Praise have it returned them from different Ages. Let these
which have been laid down, shew Men that Envy will not always prevail.
And to the End that Writers may more successfully enliven the
Endeavours of one another, let them consider, in some such Manner as I
have attempted, what may be the justest Spirit and Art of Praise. It
is indeed very hard to come up to it. Our Praise is trifling when it
depends upon Fable; it is false when it depends upon wrong
Qualifications; it means nothing when it is general; it is extreamly
difficult to hit when we propose to raise Characters high, while we
keep to them justly. I shall end this with transcribing that excellent
Epitaph of Mr. _Cowley_, wherein, with a kind of grave and
philosophick Humour, he very beautifully speaks of himself (withdrawn
from the World, and dead to all the Interests of it) as of a Man
really deceased. At the same time it is an Instruction how to leave
the Publick with a good Grace.

Epitaphium Vivi Authoris.

'Hic, O Viator, sub Lare parvulo_
Couleius _hic est conditus, hic jacet
Defunctus Humani Laboris
Sorte, supervacuaque Vita,
Non Indecora pauperie nitens,
Et non inerti Nobilis Otio,
Vanoque dilectis popello
Divitiis animosus hostis.
Possis ut illum dicere mortuum
En Terra jam nunc Quantula sufficit?
Exempta sit Curis, Viator,
Terra sit illa lævis, precare.
Hic sparge Flores, sparge breves Rosas,
Nam Vita gaudet Mortua Floribus,
Herbisque Odoratis Corona
Vatis adhuc Cinerem Calentem.'

[The Publication of these Criticisms having procured me the following Letter from a very ingenious Gentleman, I cannot forbear inserting it in the Volume, though it did not come soon enough to have a place in any of my single Papers.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'Having read over in your Paper, No. 551. some of the Epigrams made by
the _Grecian_ Wits, in commendation of their celebrated Poets, I could
not forbear sending you another, out of the same Collection; which I
take to be as great a Compliment to _Homer_, as any that has yet been
paid him.

[Greek: Tís poth' ho tòn Troiaes pólemon, &c.]

Who first transcribed the famous_ Trojan _War,
And wise_ Ulysses' _Acts, O_ Jove, _make known:
For since 'tis certain, Thine those Poems are,
No more let_ Homer _boast they are his own.

If you think it worthy of a Place in your Speculations, for ought I
know (by that means) it may in time be printed as often in _English_,
as it has already been in _Greek_, I am (like the rest of the World)

_SIR_,

_Your great Admirer_,
G. R.
4th _Dec_.

The Reader may observe that the Beauty of this Epigram is different from that of any in the foregoing. An Irony is look'd upon as the finest Palliative of Praise; and very often conveys the noblest Panegyrick under the Appearance of Satire. _Homer_ is here seemingly accused and treated as a Plagiary; but what is drawn up in the form of an Accusation is certainly, as my Correspondent observes, the greatest Compliment that could have been paid to that Divine Poet.]

_Dear Mr_. SPECTATOR,

I am a Gentleman of a pretty good Fortune, and of a Temper impatient
of any thing which I think an Injury; however I always quarrelled
according to Law, and instead of attacking my Adversary by the
dangerous Method of Sword and Pistol, I made my Assaults by that more
secure one of Writ or Warrant. I cannot help telling you, that either
by the Justice of my Causes, or the Superiority of my Counsel, I have
been generally successful; and to my great Satisfaction I can say it,
that by three Actions of Slander, and half a dozen Trespasses, I have
for several Years enjoy'd a perfect Tranquility in my Reputation and
Estate. By these means also I have been made known to the Judges, the
Serjeants of our Circuit are my intimate Friends, and the Ornamental
Counsel pay a very profound Respect to one who has made so great a
Figure in the Law. Affairs of Consequence having brought me to Town, I
had the Curiosity t'other day to visit _Westminster-Hall_; and having
placed my self in one of the Courts, expected to be most agreeably
entertained. After the Court and Counsel were, with due Ceremony,
seated, up stands a learned Gentleman, and began, When this _Matter_
was last _stirr'd_ before your Lordship: The next humbly moved to
_quash_ an _Indictment_; another complain'd that his Adversary had
_snapp'd_ a _Judgment_; the next informed the Court that his Client
was _stripp'd_ of his _Possession_; another begg'd Leave to acquaint
his Lordship, that they had been _saddled_ with Costs. At last up got
a grave Serjeant, and told us his Client had been _hung up_ a whole
Term by a _Writ of Error_. At this I could bear it no longer, but came
hither, and resolv'd to apply my self to your Honour to interpose with
these Gentlemen, that they would leave off such low and unnatural
Expressions: For surely tho' the Lawyers subscribe to hideous _French_
and false _Latin_, yet they should let their Clients have a little
decent and proper _English_ for their Money. What Man that has a Value
for a good Name would like to have it said in a publick Court, that
Mr. such-a-one was _stripp'd, saddled_ or _hung up_? This being what
has escaped your Spectatorial Observation, be pleas'd to correct such
an illiberal Cant among profess'd Speakers, and you'll infinitely
oblige
_Your humble Servant_,
Philonicus.

Joe's _Coffee-house_,
Novemb. 28.

* * * * *

No. 552. Wednesday, December 3, 1712. Steele.

'--Quæ prægravat artes
Infra se positas extinctus amabitur idem.'

Hor.

As I was tumbling about the Town the other Day in an Hackney-Coach, and delighting my self with busy Scenes in the Shops of each Side of me, it came into my Head, with no small Remorse, that I had not been frequent enough in the Mention and Recommendation of the industrious Part of Mankind. It very naturally, upon this Occasion, touched my Conscience in particular, that I had not acquitted my self to my Friend Mr. _Peter Motteux_. [1] That industrious Man of Trade, and formerly Brother of the Quill, has dedicated to me a Poem upon Tea. It would injure him, as a Man of Business, if I did not let the World know that the Author of so good Verses writ them before he was concern'd in Traffick. In order to expiate my Negligence towards him, I immediately resolv'd to make him a Visit. I found his spacious Warehouses fill'd and adorn'd with Tea, _China_ and _Indian_ Ware. I could observe a beautiful Ordonnance of the whole; and such different and considerable Branches of Trade carried on, in the same House, I exulted in seeing dispos'd by a Poetical Head. In one place were exposed to view Silks of various Shades and Colours, rich Brocades, and the wealthiest Products of foreign Looms.

Here you might see the finest Laces held up by the fairest Hands, and there examin'd by the beauteous Eyes of the Buyers, the most delicate Cambricks, Muslins, and Linnens. I could not but congratulate my Friend on the humble, but, I hoped, beneficial Use he had made of his Talents, and wished I could be a Patron to his Trade, as he had been pleased to make me of his Poetry. The honest Man has, I know, that modest Desire of Gain which is peculiar to those who understand better Things than Riches: and I dare say he would be contented with much less than what is called Wealth at that Quarter of the Town which he inhabits, and will oblige all his Customers with Demands agreeable to the Moderation of his Desires.

Among other Omissions of which I have been also guilty, with relation to Men of Industry of a superior Order, I must acknowledge my Silence towards a Proposal frequently enclosed to me by Mr. _Renatus Harris, Organ-Builder_. The ambition of this Artificer is to erect an Organ in St. _Paul's_ Cathedral, over the West Door, at the Entrance into the Body of the Church, which in Art and Magnificence shall transcend any Work of that kind ever before invented. The Proposal in perspicuous Language sets forth the Honour and Advantage such a Performance would be to the _British_ Name, as well as that it would apply the Power of Sounds in a manner more amazingly forcible than, perhaps, has yet been known, and I am sure to an End much more worthy. Had the vast Sums which have been laid out upon Opera's without Skill or Conduct, and to no other Purpose but to suspend or vitiate our Understandings, been disposed this Way, we should now perhaps have an Engine so formed as to strike the Minds of half a People at once in a Place of Worship with a Forgetfulness of present Care and Calamity, and a Hope of endless Rapture, Joy, and Hallelujah hereafter.

When I am doing this Justice, I am not to forget the best Mechanick of my Acquaintance, that useful Servant to Science and Knowledge, Mr. _John Rowley_; but I think I lay a great Obligation on the Publick, by acquainting them with his Proposals for a Pair of new Globes. After his Preamble, he promises in the said Proposals that,

_In the Celestial Globe,_

'Care shall be taken that the fixed Stars be placed according to their
true Longitude and Latitude, from the many and correct Observations of
_Hevelius, Cassini_, Mr. _Flamsteed_, Reg. Astronomer, Dr. _Halley
Savilian_ Professor of Geometry in _Oxon_; and from whatever else can
be procured to render the Globe more exact, instructive, and useful.

'That all the Constellations be drawn in a curious, new, and
particular manner; each Star in so just, distinct, and conspicuous a
Proportion, that its true Magnitude may be readily known by bare
Inspection, according to the different _Light_ and _Sizes_ of the
Stars. That the Track or Way of such Comets as have been well
observ'd, but not hitherto expressed in any Globe, be carefully
delineated in this.

_In the Terrestrial Globe._

'That by reason the Descriptions formerly made, both in the _English_
[and [2]] _Dutch_ great Globes, are erroneous, _Asia, Africa_, and
_America_, be drawn in a Manner wholly new; by which means it is to be
noted, that the Undertakers will be obliged to alter the Latitude of
some Places in 10 Degrees, the Longitude of others in 20 Degrees:
besides which great and necessary Alterations, there be many
remarkable Countries, Cities, Towns, Rivers, and Lakes, omitted in
other Globes, inserted here according to the best Discoveries made by
our late Navigators. Lastly, That the Course of the Trade-Winds, the
_Monsoons_, and other Winds periodically shifting between the
Tropicks, be visibly express'd.

'Now in Regard that this Undertaking is of so universal Use, as the
Advancement of the most necessary Parts of the Mathematicks, as well
as tending to the Honour of the _British_ Nation, and that the Charge
of carrying it on is very expensive; it is desired that all Gentlemen
who are willing to promote so great a Work, will be pleased to
subscribe on the following Conditions.

'I. The Undertakers engage to furnish each Subscriber with a Celestial
and Terrestrial Globe, each of 30 Inches Diameter, in all Respects
curiously adorned, the Stars gilded, the Capital Cities plainly
distinguished, the Frames, Meridians, Horizons, Hour Circles and
Indexes so exactly finished up, and accurately divided, that a Pair of
these Globes will really appear in the Judgment of any disinterested
and intelligent Person, worth Fifteen Pounds more than will be
demanded for them by the Undertakers.

'II. Whosoever will be pleas'd to subscribe, and pay Twenty Five
Pounds in the Manner following for a Pair of these Globes, either for
their own Use, or to present them to any College in the Universities,
or any publick Library or School, shall have his Coat of Arms, Name,
Title, Seat, or Place of Residence, _&c._, inserted in some convenient
Place of the Globe.

'III. That every Subscriber do at first pay down the Sum of Ten
Pounds, and Fifteen Pounds more upon the delivery of each Pair of
Globes perfectly fitted up. And that the said Globes be deliver'd
within Twelve Months after the Number of Thirty Subscribers be
compleated; and that the Subscribers be served with Globes in the
Order in which they subscribed.

'IV. That a Pair of these Globes shall not hereafter to be sold to any
Person but the Subscribers under Thirty Pounds.

'V. That if there be not thirty Subscribers within four Months after
the first of _December_, 1712, the Money paid shall be return'd on
Demand by Mr. _John Warner_ Gold-smith near _Temple-Bar_, who shall
receive and pay the same according to the above-mention'd Articles.

T.

[Footnote 1: See note on p. 288, 289, vol. ii. [Footnote 1 of No. 288.]

[Footnote 2: [or]]

* * * * *

No. 553. Thursday, December 4, 1712. Addison.

'Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum.'

Hor.

The Project which I published on _Monday_ last has brought me in several Packets of Letters. Among the rest I have receiv'd one from a certain Projector, wherein after having represented, that in all probability the Solemnity of _opening my Mouth_ will draw together a great Confluence of Beholders, he proposes to me the hiring of _Stationer's-Hall_ for the more convenient exhibiting of that Publick Ceremony. He undertakes to be at the Charge of it himself, provided he may have the erecting of Galleries on every side, and the letting of them out upon that Occasion. I have a Letter also from a Bookseller, petitioning me in a very humble manner, that he may have the Printing of the Speech which I shall make to the Assembly upon the first opening of my Mouth. I am informed from all Parts, that there are great Canvassings in the several Clubs about Town, upon the chusing of a proper Person to sit with me on those arduous Affairs, to which I have summoned them. Three Clubs have already proceeded to Election, whereof one has made a double Return. If I find that my Enemies shall take Advantage of my Silence to begin Hostilities upon me, or if any other Exigency of Affairs may so require, since I see Elections in so great a forwardness, we may possibly meet before the Day appointed; or if matters go on to my Satisfaction, I may perhaps put off the Meeting to a further Day; but of this Publick Notice shall be given.

In the mean time, I must confess that I am not a little gratify'd and oblig'd by that Concern which appears in this great City upon my present Design of laying down this Paper. It is likewise with much Satisfaction, that I find some of the most outlying Parts of the Kingdom alarm'd upon this Occasion, having receiv'd Letters to expostulate with me about it, from several of my Readers of the remotest Boroughs of _Great Britain_. Among these I am very well pleased with a Letter dated from _Berwick upon Tweed_, wherein my Correspondent compares the Office which I have for some time executed in these Realms to the Weeding of a great Garden; which, says he, it is not sufficient to weed once for all, and afterwards to give over, but that the Work must be continued daily, or the same Spots of Ground which are cleared for a while, will in a little time be over-run as much as ever. Another Gentleman lays before me several Enormities that are already sprouting, and which he believes will discover themselves in their Growth immediately after my Disappearance. There is no doubt, says he, but the Ladies Heads will shoot up as soon as they know they are no longer under the _Spectator's_ Eye; and I have already seen such monstrous broad-brimmed Hats under the Arms of Foreigners, that I question not but they will overshadow the Island within a Month or two after the dropping of your Paper. But among all the Letters which are come to my hands, there is none so handsomely written as the following one, which I am the more pleased with, as it is sent me from Gentlemen who belong to a Body which I shall always Honour, and where (I cannot speak it without a secret Pride) my Speculations have met with a very kind Reception. It is usual for Poets, upon the publishing of their Works, to print before them such Copies of Verses as have been made in their Praise. Not that you must imagine they are pleased with their own Commendations, but because the elegant Compositions of their Friends should not be lost. I must make the same Apology for the Publication of the ensuing Letter, in which I have suppressed no Part of those Praises that are given my Speculations with too lavish and good-natured an Hand; though my Correspondents can witness for me, that at other times I have generally blotted out those Parts in the Letters which I have received from them.

[O.]

_Oxford, Nov. 25._

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,

'In spight of your Invincible Silence you have found out a Method of
being the most agreeable Companion in the World: That kind of
Conversation which you hold with the Town, has the good Fortune of
being always pleasing to the Men of Taste and Leisure, and never
offensive to those of Hurry and Business. You are never heard, but at
what _Horace_ calls _dextro tempore_, and have the Happiness to
observe the politick Rule, which the same discerning Author gave his
Friend, when he enjoin'd him to deliver his Book to _Augustus_.

'Si validus, si lætus erit, si denique poscet.'

'You never begin to talk, but when People are desirous to hear you;
and I defy any one to be out of humour till you leave off. But I am
led unawares into Reflections, foreign to the original Design of this
Epistle; which was to let you know, that some unfeigned Admirers of
your inimitable Papers, who could, without any Flattery, greet you
with the Salutation used to the Eastern Monarchs, viz. _O Spec, live
for ever_, have lately been under the same Apprehensions, with Mr.
_Philo-Spec_; that the haste you have made to dispatch your best
Friends portends no long Duration to your own short Visage. We could
not, indeed, find any just Grounds for Complaint in the Method you
took to dissolve that venerable Body: No, the World was not worthy of
your Divine. WILL. HONEYCOMB could not, with any Reputation, live
single any longer. It was high time for the TEMPLAR to turn himself to
_Coke_: And Sir ROGER's dying was the wisest thing he ever did in his
Life. It was, however, matter of great Grief to us, to think that we
were in danger of losing so Elegant and Valuable an Entertainment. And
we could not, without Sorrow, reflect that we were likely to have
nothing to interrupt our Sips in a Morning, and to suspend our Coffee
in mid-air, between our Lips and Right Ear, but the ordinary Trash of
News-Papers. We resolved, therefore, not to part with you so. But
since, to make use of your own Allusion, the Cherries began now to
crowd the Market, and their Season was almost over, we consulted our
future Enjoyments, and endeavoured to make the exquisite Pleasure that
delicious Fruit gave our Taste as lasting as we could, and by drying
them protract their stay beyond its natural Date. We own that thus
they have not a Flavour equal to that of their juicy Bloom; but yet,
under this Disadvantage, they pique the Palate, and become a Salver
better than any other Fruit at its first Appearance. To speak plain,
there are a Number of us who have begun your Works afresh, and meet
two Nights in the Week in order to give you a Rehearing. We never come
together without drinking your Health, and as seldom part without
general Expressions of Thanks to you for our Night's Improvement. This
we conceive to be a more useful Institution than any other Club
whatever, not excepting even that of _ugly Faces_. We have one
manifest Advantage over that renowned Society, with respect to Mr.
_Spectator's_ Company. For though they may brag, that you sometimes
make your personal Appearance amongst them, it is impossible they
should ever get a Word from you. Whereas you are with us the Reverse
of what _Phædria_ would have his Mistress be in his Rival's Company,
_Present in your Absence_. We make you talk as much and as long as we
please; and let me tell you, you seldom hold your Tongue for the whole
Evening. I promise my self you will look with an Eye of Favour upon a
Meeting which owes its Original to a mutual Emulation among its
Members, who shall shew the most profound Respect for your Paper; not
but we have a very great Value for your Person: and I dare say you can
no where find four more sincere Admirers, and humble Servants, than
_T. F., G. S., J. T., E. T._

* * * * *

No. 554. Friday, December 5, 1712. John Hughes.

'--tentanda Via est, quâ me quoque possim
Tollere humo, Victorque virûm volitare per Ora.'

Virg.

I am obliged for the following Essay, as well as for that which lays down Rules out of _Tully_ for Pronunciation and Action, to the Ingenious Author of a Poem just Published, Entitled, _An Ode to the Creator of the World, occasioned by the Fragments of_ Orpheus.

It is a Remark made, as I remember, by a celebrated _French_ Author, that _no Man ever pushed his Capacity as far as it was able to extend_. I shall not enquire whether this Assertion be strictly true. It may suffice to say, that Men of the greatest Application and Acquirements can look back upon many vacant Spaces, and neglected Parts of Time, which have slipped away from them unemployed; and there is hardly any one considering Person in the World, but is apt to fancy with himself, at some time or other, that if his Life were to begin again, he could fill it up better.

The Mind is most provoked to cast on it self this ingenuous Reproach, when the Examples of such Men are presented to it, as have far outshot the generality of their Species, in Learning, Arts, or any valuable Improvements.

One of the most extensive and improved Genius's we have had any Instance of in our own Nation, or in any other, was that of Sir _Francis Bacon_ Lord _Verulam_. This great Man, by an extraordinary Force of Nature, Compass of Thought, and indefatigable Study, had amassed to himself such stores of Knowledge as we cannot look upon without Amazement. His Capacity seems to have grasped All that was revealed in Books before his Time; and not satisfied with that, he began to strike out new Tracks of Science, too many to be travelled over by any one Man, in the Compass of the longest Life. These, therefore, he could only mark down, like imperfect Coastings in Maps, or supposed Points of Land, to be further discovered, and ascertained by the Industry of After-Ages, who should proceed upon his Notices or Conjectures.

The Excellent Mr. _Boyle_ was the Person, who seems to have been designed by Nature to succeed to the Labours and Enquiries of that extraordinary Genius I have just mentioned. By innumerable Experiments He, in a great Measure, filled up those Planns and Out-Lines of Science, which his Predecessor had sketched out. His Life was spent in the Pursuit of Nature, through a great Variety of Forms and Changes, and in the most rational, as well as devout Adoration of its Divine Author.

It would be impossible to name many Persons who have extended their Capacities so far as these two, in the Studies they pursued; but my learned Readers, on this Occasion, will naturally turn their Thoughts to a _Third_ [1], who is yet living, and is likewise the Glory of our own Nation. The Improvements which others had made in Natural and Mathematical Knowledge have so vastly increased in his Hands, as to afford at once a wonderful Instance how great the Capacity is of a Human Soul, and how inexhaustible the Subject of its Enquiries; so true is that Remark in Holy Writ, that, _though a wise Man seek to find out the Works of God from the Beginning to the End, yet shall he not be able to do it_.

I cannot help mentioning here one Character more, of a different kind indeed from these, yet such a one as may serve to shew the wonderful Force of Nature and of Application, and is the most singular Instance of an Universal Genius I have ever met with. The Person I mean is _Leonardo da Vinci_, an _Italian_ Painter, descended from a noble Family in _Tuscany_, about the beginning of the sixteenth Century. In his Profession of History-Painting he was so great a Master, that some have affirmed he excelled all who went before him[. It is certain], that he raised the Envy of _Michael Angelo_, who was his Contemporary, and that from the Study of his Works _Raphael_ himself learned his best Manner of Designing. He was a Master too in Sculpture and Architecture, and skilful in Anatomy, Mathematicks, and Mechanicks. The Aquæduct from the River _Adda_ to _Milan_, is mentioned as a Work of his Contrivance. He had learned several Languages, and was acquainted with the Studies of History, Philosophy, Poetry, and Musick. Though it is not necessary to my present Purpose, I cannot but take notice, that all who have writ of him mention likewise his Perfections of Body. The Instances of his Strength are almost incredible. He is described to have been of a well-formed Person, and a Master of all genteel Exercises. And lastly, we are told that his moral Qualities were agreeable to his natural and intellectual Endowments, and that he was of an honest and generous Mind, adorned with great Sweetness of Manners. I might break off the Account of him here, but I imagine it will be an Entertainment to the Curiosity of my Readers, to find so remarkable a Character distinguished by as remarkable a Circumstance at his Death. The Fame of his Works having gained him an universal Esteem, he was invited to the Court of _France_, where, after some time, he fell sick; and _Francis the First_ coming to see him, he raised himself in his Bed to acknowledge the Honour which was done him by that Visit. The King embraced him, and _Leonardo_ fainting at the same Instant, expired in the Arms of that great Monarch.

It is impossible to attend to such Instances as these, without being raised into a Contemplation on the wonderful Nature of an Human Mind, which is capable of such Progressions in Knowledge, and can contain such a Variety of Ideas without Perplexity or Confusion. How reasonable is it from hence to infer its Divine Original? And whilst we find unthinking Matter endued with a Natural Power to last for ever, unless annihilated by Omnipotence, how absurd would it be to imagine, that a Being so much Superior to it should not have the same Privilege?

At the same time it is very surprizing, when we remove our Thoughts from such Instances as I have mentioned, to consider those we so frequently meet with in the Accounts of barbarous Nations among the _Indians_; where we find Numbers of People who scarce shew the first Glimmerings of Reason, and seem to have few Ideas above those of Sense and Appetite. These, methinks, appear like large Wilds, or vast uncultivated Tracts of Human Nature; and when we compare them with Men of the most exalted Characters in Arts and Learning, we find it difficult to believe that they are Creatures of the same Species.