of the ancient authors have touched upon adding however such explications to it as the subject that I treat of. By this means he thought might be for the benefit of his I meet with some celebrated thought upon people. He afterwards entered upon As in it, or a thought of my own expressed in bet-Præsenti, which he converted in the same ter words, or some similitude for the illus- manner to the use of his parishioners. This tration of my subject. This is what gives in a very little time thickened his audience, birth to the motto of a speculation, which I filled his church, and routed his antagonist. rather choose to take out of the poets than The natural love to Latin, which is so the prose writers, as the former generally prevalent in our common people, makes gives a finer turn to a thought than the lat- me think that my speculations fare never ter, and by couching it in few words and in the worse among them for that little scrap harmonious numbers, make it more portable which appears at the head of them; and to the memory. what the more encourages me in the use of quotations in an unknown tongue, is, that I hear the ladies, whose approbation I value more than that of the whole learned world, declare themselves in a particular manner pleased with my Greek mottos. My reader is therefore sure to meet with at least one good line in every paper, and very often finds his imagination entertained by a hint that awakens in his memory some beautiful passage of a classic author. * It was a saying of an ancient philoso- Designing this day's work for a dissertapher, which I find some of our writers tion upon the two extremities of my papers, have ascribed to Queen Elizabeth, who and having already despatched my motto, I perhaps might have taken occasion to re-shall, in the next place, discourse upon peat it, that a good face is a letter of re- those single.capital letters, which are placed commendation. It naturally makes the at the end of it, and which have afforded beholders inquisitive into the person who great matter of speculation to the curious. is the owner of it, and generally prepos- I have heard various conjectures upon this sesses them in his favour. A handsome subject. Some tell us that C is the mark motto has the same effect. Besides that it of those papers that are written by the always gives a supernumerary beauty to a clergyman, though others ascribe them to paper, and is sometimes in a manner neces- the club in general: that the papers marked sary, when the writer is engaged in what with R were written by my friend Sir Roger: may appear a paradox to vulgar minds, as that L signifies the lawyer, whom I have it shows, that he is supported by good au-described in my second speculation; and thorities, and is not singular in his opinion. that T stands for the trader or merchant. I must confess, the motto is of little use to But the letter X, which is placed at the end an unlearned reader, for which reason I con- of some few of my papers, is that which has sider it only as a word to the wise.' But as puzzled the whole town, as they cannot for my unlearned friends, if they cannot re-think of any name which begins with that lish the motto, I take care to make provision for them in the body of my paper. If they do not understand the sign that is hung out, they know very well by it that they may meet with entertainment in the house; and I think I was never better pleased than with a plain man's compliment, who upon his friends telling him that he would like the Spectator much better if he understood the motto, replied, that good wine needs no bush.'t letter, except Xenophon and Xerxes, who can neither of them be supposed to have had any hand in these speculations. In answer to these inquisitive gentlemen, who have many of them made inquiries of me by letter, I must tell them the reply of an ancient philosopher, who carried something hidden under his cloak. A certain acquaintance desiring him to let him know what it was he covered so carefully: 'I cover it,' says he, on purpose that you should not know." I have made use of these obscure marks for the same purpose. They are, perhaps, little amulets or charms to preserve the paper against the fascination and malice of evil eyes: for which reason I would not have my reader surprised if hereafter he sees any of my papers marked with a Q, a Z, Y, an &c. or with the word Abracadabra. I have heard of a couple of preachers in a country town, who endeavoured which should outshine one another, and draw together the greatest congregation. One of them being well versed in the Fathers, used to quote every now and then a Latin sentence to his illiterate hearers, who it seems found themselves so edified by it, that they flocked in greater numbers to this learned man than to his rival. The other finding I shall, however, so far explain myself to his congregation mouldering every Sunday, the reader, as to let him know that the letand hearing at length what was the occa-ters C, L, and X, are cabalistical, and carry sion of it, resolved to give his parish a little Latin in his turn; but being unacquainted with any of the Fathers, he digested into his sermons the whole book of Quae Genus, more in them than it is proper for the world to be acquainted with. Those who are versed in the philosophy of Pythagoras, and swear by the Tetrachtys, that is the number four,* will know very well that the * See Stanley's Lives of the Philosophers, page 527, 2nd edition, 1687, folio. number ten, which is signified by the letter | morals, as a monstrous birth in naturals; X, (and which has so much perplexed the with this difference only, which greatly town,) has in it many particular powers: aggravates the wonder, that it happens that it is called by Platonic writers the com- much more frequently; and what a blemish plete number; that one, two, three, and does it cast upon wit and learning in the four put together make up the number ten; general account of the world? and in how and that ten is all. But these are not mys- disadvantageous a light does it expose them teries for ordinary readers to be let into. to the busy class of mankind, that there A man must have spent many years in hard should be so many instances of persons who study before he can arrive at the know- have so conducted their lives in spite of ledge of them. these transcendent advantages, as neither We had a rabbinical divine in England, to be happy in themselves nor useful to who was chaplain to the Earl of Essex, in their friends; when every body sees it was Queen Elizabeth's time, that had an admi- entirely in their own power to be eminent rable head for secrets of this nature. Upon in both these characters? For my part, I his taking the doctor of divinity's degree, think there is no reflection more astonish he preached before the university of Cam-ing, than to consider one of these gentle bridge, upon the first verse of the first chapter of the first book of Chronicles, in which,' says he, 'you have the three following words: men spending a fair fortune, running in every body's debt without the least apprehension of a future reckoning; and at last leaving not only his own children, but pos"Adam, Seth, Enosh." sibly those of other people, by his means, He divided this short text into many parts, in starving circumstances; while a fellow, and by discovering several mysteries in whom one would scarce suspect to have a each word, made a most learned and elabo-human soul, shall perhaps raise a vast rate discourse. The name of this profound preacher was Dr. Alabaster, of whom the reader may find a more particular account in Dr. Fuller's book of English Worthies. This instance will, I hope, convince my readers that there may be a great deal of fine writing in the capital letters which bring up the rear of my paper, and give them some satisfaction in that particular. But as for the full explication of these matters, I must refer them to time, which discovers all things. C. estate out of nothing, and be the founder of a family capable of being very considerable in their country, and doing many illustrious services to it. That this observation is just, experience has put beyond all dispute. But though the fact be so evident and glaring, yet the causes of it are still in the dark; which makes me persuade myself, that it would be no unacceptable piece of entertainment to the town, to inquire into the hidden sources of so unaccountable an evil. I am, sir, your most humble servant.' What this correspondent wonders at, has No. 222.] Wednesday, November 14, 1711. been matter of admiration ever since there Cur alter fratrum cessare, et ludere, et ungi, was any such thing as human life. Horace reflects upon this inconsistency very agreeHor. Lib. 2. Ep. ii. 183. ably in the character of Tigellius whom he Why, of two brothers, one his pleasure loves, makes a mighty pretender to economy, and Prefers his sports to Herod's fragrant groves.-Creech. tells you, you might one day hear him speak MR. SPECTATOR,-There is one thing the most philosophic things imaginable conI have often looked for in your papers, and cerning being contented with a little, and have as often wondered to find myself dis- his contempt of every thing but mere neappointed; the rather, because I think it a cessaries; and in half a week after spend a subject every way agreeable to your design, thousand pounds. When he says this of and by being left unattempted by others, him with relation to expense, he describes seems reserved as a proper employment him as unequal to himself in every other for you; I meana disquisition,from whence it circumstance of life; and, indeed, if we conproceeds, that men of the brightest parts, sider lavish men carefully, we shall find it and most comprehensive genius, completely always proceeds from a certain incapacity furnished with talents for any province in of possessing themselves, and finding enhuman affairs; such as by their wise les-joyment in their own minds. Mr. Dryden sons of economy to others, have made it has expressed this very excellently in the evident that they have the justest notions character of Zimri: of life, and of true sense in the conduct of it; from what unhappy contradictious cause it proceeds, that persons thus finished by nature and by art, should so often fail in the management of that which they so well understand, and want the address to make a right application of their own rules. This is certainly a prodigious inconsistency in behaviour, and makes such a figure in “A man so various, that he seemed to be Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto. This loose state of the soul hurries the Virg. n. i. ver. 122. extravagant from one pursuit to another; One here and there floats on the vast abyss. and the reason that his expenses are greater than another's, is, that his wants are also there is none whose fragments are so beauAmong the mutilated poets of antiquity more numerous. But what makes so many tiful as those of Sappho. They give us a go on in this way to their lives' end, is, that taste of her way of writing, which is perthey certainly do not know how contempti- fectly conformable with that extraordinary ble they are in the eyes of the rest of man- character we find of her in the remarks of kind, or rather, that indeed they are not so those great critics who were conversant contemptible as they deserve. Tully says, with her works when they were entire. it is the greatest of wickedness to lessen One may see by what is left of them, that your paternal estate. And if a man would she followed nature in all her thoughts, thoroughly consider how much worse than without descending to those little points, banishment it must be to his child, to ride conceits, and turns of wit with which many by the estate which should have been his, had it not been for his father's injustice to of our modern lyrics are so miserably inhim, he would be smitten with reflection fected. Her soul seems to have been made more deeply than can be understood by any in all its warmth, and described it in all its up of love and poetry. She felt the passion but one who is a father. Sure there can be nothing more afflicting, than to think it symptoms. She is called by ancient auhad been happier for his son to have been thors the tenth muse; and by Plutarch is norn of any other man living than himself. It is not perhaps much thought of, but it It is not perhaps much thought of, but it is certainly a very important lesson, to learn how to enjoy ordinary life, and to be able to relish your being without the transable to relish your being without the transport of some passion, or gratification of some appetite. For want of this capacity, the world is filled with whetters, tipplers, cutters, sippers, and all the numerous train of those who for want of thinking, are forced to be ever exercising their feeling, or tasting It would be hard on this occasion to men tion the harmless smokers of tobacco, and takers of snuff. The slower part of mankind, whom my correspondent wonders should get estates, are the more immediately formed for that pursuit. They can expect distant things without impatience, because they are not carried out of their way either by violent passion or keen appetite to any thing. To men addicted to delights, business is an interruption; to such as are cold to delights, business is an entertainment. For which reason it was said to one who commended a dull man for his application, No thanks to him; if he had no business he would have nothing to do.' T. compared to Cacus the son of Vulcan, who breathed out nothing but flame. I do not know by the character that is given of her works, whether it is not for the benefit of filled with such bewitching tenderness and mankind that they are lost. They were rapture, that it might have been dangerous to have given them a reading. An inconstant lover called Phaon, occasioned great calamities to this poetical lady. She fell desperately in love with him, and took a voyage into Sicily, in pursuit of him, he having withdrawn_himself thither on purpose to avoid her. It was in that island, have made the Hymn to Venus, with a and on this occasion, she is supposed to translation of which I shall present my reader. Her Hymn was ineffectual for procuring that happiness which she prayed for in it. Phaon was still obdurate, and Sappho so transported with the violence of her passion, that she was resolved to get rid of it at any price. There was a promontory in Acarnania called Leucate, on the top of which was a little temple dedicated to Apollo. In this temple it was usual for despairing lovers to make their vows in secret, and afterwards to fling themselves from the top of the precipice into the sea, where they were sometimes taken up alive. This place was therefore called the Lover's Leap; and No. 223.] Thursday, November 15, 1711. whether or no the fright they had been in, O suavis anima! qualem te dicam bonam, O sweet soul! how good must you have been hereto. fore when your remains are so delicious. or the resolution that could push them to so dreadful a remedy, or the bruises which they often received in their fall, banished all the tender sentiments of love, and gave their spirits another turn; those who had taken this leap were observed never to relapse into that passion. Sappho tried the cure, but perished in the experiment. WHEN I reflect upon the various fate of those multitudes of ancient writers who flourished in Greece and Italy, I consider time as an immense ocean, in which many Sappho, so far as it regards the following After having given this short account of noble authors are entirely swallowed up, Ode, I shall subjoin the translation of it as many very much shattered and damaged, it was sent me by a friend, whose admirasome quite disjointed and broken into pieces, while some have wholly escaped ble Pastorals and Winter-pieces have been the common wreck; but the number of the already so well received. * * The reader will last is very small. * Ambrose Philips. find in it that pathetic simplicity which is so these two finished pieces have never been ornaments. A HYMN TO VENUS. O Venus, beauty of the skies, If ever thou hast kindly heard Thou once didst leave almighty Jove, The birds dismiss'd (while you remain) Though now he shuns thy longing arms, Celestial visitant, once more Thy needful presence I implore! In pity come and ease my grief, Bring my distemper'd soul relief, Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires, And give me all my heart desires. Madam Dacier observes, there is something very pretty in that circumstance of this ode, wherein Venus is described as sending away her chariot upon her arrival at Sappho's lodgings, to denote that it was not a short transient visit which she intended to make her. This ode was preserved by an eminent Greek critic, who inserted it entire in his works, as a pattern of perfection in the structure of it. Longinus has quoted another ode of this great poetess, which is likewise admirable in its kind, and has been translated by the same hand with the foregoing one. I shall oblige my reader with it in another paper. In the meanwhile, I cannot but wonder that -Fulgente trahit constrictos gloria curru Hor. Lib. 1. Sat. vi. 23. Chain'd to her shining car, Fame draws along If we look abroad upon the great multitude of mankind, and endeavour to trace out the principles of action in every individual, it will, I think, seem highly probable that ambition runs through the whole species, and that every man in proportion to the vigour of his complexion is more or less actuated by it. It is indeed no uncommon thing to meet with men, who, by the natural bent of their inclinations, and without the discipline of philosophy, aspire not to the heights of power and grandeur; who never set their hearts upon a numerous train of clients and dependencies, nor other gay appendages of greatness; who are contented with a competency, and will not molest their tranquillity to gain an abundance. But it is not therefore to be concluded that such a man is not ambitious; his desires may have cut out, another channel, and determined him to other pursuits; the motive however may be still the same; and in these cases likewise the man may be equally pushed on with the desire of distinction. Though the pure consciousness of worthy actions, abstracted from the views of popular applause, be to a generous mind an ample reward, yet the desire of distinction was doubtless implanted in our natures, as an additional incentive to exert ourselves in virtuous excellence. This passion, indeed, like all others, is frequently perverted to evil and ignoble purposes; so that we may account for many of the excellences and follies of life upon the same innate principle, to wit, the desire of being remarkable; for this, as it has been differently cultivated by education, study, and converse, will bring forth suitable effects as it falls in with an ingenuous disposition or a corrupt mind. It does accordingly express itself in acts of magnanimity or selfish cunning, as it meets with a good or a weak understanding. As it has been employed in embellishing the mind, or adorning the outside, it renders the man eminently praiseworthy or ridiculous. Ambition therefore is not to be confined only to one passion or pursuit; for as the same humours in constitutions otherwise different, affect the body after different manners, so the same and irregular practices, as sallying out into aspiring principle within us sometimes nocturnal exploits, breaking of windows, breaks forth upon one object, sometimes upon another. singing of catches, beating the watch, getting drunk twice a day, killing a great number of horses; with many other enterprises of the like fiery nature: for certainly many a man is more rakish and extravagant than he would willingly be, were there not others to look on and give their approbation. It cannot be doubted, but that there is as great a desire of glory in a ring of wrestlers or cudgel-players, as in any other more refined competition for superiority. No man that could avoid it, would ever suffer his head to be broken but out of a principle of honour. This is the secret spring that pushes them forward; and the superiority which they gain above the undistinguished many, does more than repair those wounds they have received in the combat. It is Mr. Waller's opinion, that Julius Cæsar, had he not been master of the Roman empire, would, in all probability, have made an ex-orderly ferments of youthful blood: I mean cellent wrestler: 'Great Julius on the mountains bred, He that the world subdu'd, had been That he subdued the world, was owing to One very common, and at the same time the most absurd ambition that ever showed itself in human nature, is that which comes upon a man with experience and old age, the season when it might be expected he should be wisest; and therefore it cannot receive any of those lessening circumstances which do, in some measure, excuse the dis the passion for getting money, exclusive of the character of the provident father, the affectionate husband, or the generous friend. It may be remarked, for the comfort of honest poverty, that this desire reigns most in those who have but few good qualities to recommend them. This is a weed that will grow in a barren soil. Humanity, goodnature, and the advantages of a liberal education, are incompatible with avarice. It is strange to see how suddenly this abject passion kills all the noble sentiments and generous ambitions that adorn human nature; it renders the man who is overrun with it a peevish and cruel master, a severe parent, an unsociable husband, a distant and mistrustful friend. But it is more to the present purpose to consider it as an absurd passion of the heart, rather than as a vicious affection of the mind. As there are frequent instances to be met with of a proud humility so this passion, contrary to most others, affects applause, by avoiding all show and appearance; for this reason it will not sometimes endure even the common decencies of apparel. A covetous man will call himself poor, that you may soothe his vanity by contradicting him.' Love and the desire of glory, as they are the most natural, so they are capable of being refined into the most Thus nature furnishes man with a gene- delicate and rational passions. It is true, ral appetite of glory, education determines the wise man who strikes out of the secret it to this or that particular object. The paths of a private life, for honour and digdesire of distinction is not, I think, in any nity, allured by the splendour of a court, instance more observable than in the variety and the unfelt weight of public employ of outsides and new appearances, which the ment, whether he succeeds in his attempts modish part of the world are obliged to or no, usually comes near enough to this provide, in order to make themselves re-painted greatness to discern the daubing; markable; for any thing glaring or particu- he is then desirous of extricating himself lar, either in behaviour or apparel, is known out of the hurry of life, that he may pass to have this good effect, that it catches the away the remainder of his days in tranquil eye, and will not suffer you to pass over the lity and retirement. person so adorned without due notice and It may be thought then but common pru observation. It has likewise, upon this ac-dence in a man not to change a better state count, been frequently resented as a very for a worse, nor ever to quit that which he great slight, to leave any gentleman out of a lampoon or satire, who has as much right to be there as his neighbour, because it supposes the person not eminent enough to be taken notice of. To this passionate fondness for distinction are owing various frolicksome knows he shall take up again with pleasure; and yet if human life be not a little moved, with the gentle gales of hopes and fears, there may be some danger of its stagnating in an unmanly indolence and security. It is a known story of Domitian, that after he |