We learn from Hierocles, it was a com- | views, and make her altogether lovely, are mon saying among the heathens, that the wise man hates nobody, but only loves the virtuous. Tully has a very beautiful gradation of thoughts to show how amiable virtue is. 'We love a virtuous man,' says he, who lives in the remotest parts of the earth, though we are altogether out of the reach of his virtue, and can receive from it no manner of benefit. Nay, one who died several ages ago, raises a secret fondness and benevolence for him in our minds, when we read his story. Nay, what is still more, one who has been the enemy of our country, provided his wars were regulated by justice and humanity, as in the instance of Pyrrhus, whom Tully mentions on this occasion in opposition to Hannibal. Such is the natural beauty and loveliness of virtue. cheerfulness and good-nature. These generally go together, as a man cannot be agreeable to others who is not easy within himself. They are both very requisite in a virtuous mind, to keep out melancholy from the many serious thoughts it is engaged in, and to hinder its natural hatred of vice from souring into severity, and censoriousness. If virtue is of this amiable nature, what can we think of those who can look upon it with an eye of hatred and ill-will, or can suffer their aversion for a party to blot out all the merit of the person who is engaged in it? A man must be excessively stupid, as well as uncharitable, who believes there is no virtue but on his own side, and that there are not men as honest as himself who may differ from him in political principles. Men may oppose one another in some particulars, but ought not to carry their hatred to those qualities which are of so amiable a Stoicism, which was the pedantry of virtue, ascribes all good qualifications of what kind soever to the virtuous man. Accord-nature in themselves, and have nothing to ingly Cato, in the character Tully has left do with the points in dispute. Men of virof him, carries matters so far, that he would tue, though of different interests ought to not allow any one but a virtuous man to be consider themselves as more nearly united handsome. This indeed looks more like a with one another, than with the vicious philosophical rant than the real opinion of part of mankind, who embark with them We should a wise man; yet this was what Cato very in the same civil concerns. seriously maintained. In short, the Stoics bear the same love towards a man of honour thought they could not sufficiently repre- who is a living antagonist, which Tully sent the excellence of virtue, if they did not tells us in the forementioned passage, every comprehend in the notion of it all possible one naturally does to an enemy that is dead. perfections; and therefore did not only sup-In short, we should esteem virtue though pose, that it was transcendently beautiful in a foe, and abhor vice though in a friend. in itself, but that it made the very body I speak this with an eye to those cruel amiable, and banished every kind of de- treatments which men of all sides are apt formity from the person in whom it resided. to give the characters of those who do not It is a common observation that the most agree with them. How many persons abandoned to all sense of goodness, are apt of undoubted probity and exemplary virto wish those who are related to them of a tue, on either side, are blackened and dedifferent character; and it is very observ-famed? How many men of honour exposed able, that none are more struck with the charms of virtue in the fair sex than those who by their very admiration of it are carried to a desire of ruining it. A virtuous mind in a fair body is indeed a fine picture in a good light, and therefore it is no wonder that it makes the beautiful sex all over charms. to public obloquý and reproach? Those therefore who are either the instruments or abettors in such infernal dealings, ought to be looked upon as persons who make use of religion to promote their cause, not of C. their cause to promote religion. Judex et callidus audis. Hor. Lib. 2. Sat. vii. 101. A judge of painting you, a connoisseur. 'Covent Garden, Dec. 7. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I cannot, without As virtue in general is of an amiable and No. 244.] Monday, December 10, 1711. lovely nature, there are some particular kinds of it which are more so than others, and these are such as dispose us to do good to mankind. Temperance and abstinence, faith and devotion, are in themselves perhaps as laudable as any other virtues: but those which make a man popular and be-a double injustice, forbear expressing to loved, are justice, charity, munificence, and, in short, all the good qualities that render us beneficial to each other. For this reason even an extravagant man, who has nothing else to recommend him but a false generosity, is often more beloved and esteemed than a person of a much more finished character, who is defective in this particular. The two great ornaments of virtue, which show her in the most advantageous you the satisfaction which a whole clan of virtuosos have received from those hints which you have lately given the town on the cartoons of the inimitable Raphael. It should methinks be the business of a Spectator to improve the pleasures of sight, and there cannot be a more immediate way to it than recommending the study and observation of excellent drawings and pictures. When I first went to view those of Raphael which you have celebrated, I must confess I was but barely pleased; the next | As the shadows in a picture represent the time I liked them better, but at last, as serious or melancholy, so the lights do the I grew better acquainted with them, I bright and lively thoughts. As there should fell deeply in love with them; like wise be but one forcible light in a picture which speeches, they sank deep into my heart: should catch the eye and fall on the hero, for you know, Mr. Spectator, that a man so there should be but one object of our of wit may extremely affect one for the love, even the Author of nature. These present, but if he has not discretion, his and the like reflections, well improved, merit soon vanishes away: while a wise might very much contribute to open the man that has not so great a stock of wit, beauty of that art, and prevent young peoshall nevertheless give you a far greater ple from being poisoned by the ill gusto of and more lasting satisfaction. Just so it any extravagant workman that should be is in a picture that is smartly touched, but imposed upon us. I am, sir, your most not well studied; one may call it a witty humble servant.' picture, though the painter in the mean time may be in danger of being called a fool. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Though I am a wo On the other hand, a picture that is tho- man, yet I am one of those who confess roughly understood in the whole, and well themselves highly pleased with a speculaperformed in the particulars, that is begun tion you obliged the world with some time on the foundation of geometry, carried on by ago, from an old Greek poet you call Simothe rules of perspective, architecture, and nides, in relation to the several natures and anatomy, and perfected by a good harmony, distinctions of our own sex. I could not but a just and natural colouring, and such pas- admire how justly the characters of women sions and expressions of the mind as are in this age fall in with the times of Simoalmost peculiar to Raphael; this is what nides, there being no one of those sorts I you may justly style a wise picture, and have not at some time or other of my life which seldom fails to strike us dumb, until met with a sample of. But, sir, the subwe can assemble all our faculties to make ject of this present address are a set of but a tolerable judgment upon it. Other women, comprehended, I think, in the pictures are made for the eyes only, as rat-ninth species of that speculation, called the tles are made for children's ears; and cer- Apes; the description of whom I find to be, tainly that picture that only pleases the "That they are such as are both ugly and eye, without representing some well-chosen ill-natured, who have nothing beautiful part of nature or other, does but show what themselves, and endeavour to detract from fine colours are to be sold at the colour- or ridicule every thing that appears so in shop, and mocks the works of the Creator. others." Now, sir, this sect, as I have If the best imitator of nature is not to be been told, is very frequent in the great esteemed the best painter, but he that makes town where you live; but as my circumthe greatest show and glare of colours; it stance of life obliges me to reside altogether will necessarily follow, that he who can in the country, though not many miles from array himself in the most gaudy draperies London, I cannot have met with a great is best drest, and he that can speak loudest number of them, nor indeed is it a desirathe best orator. Every man when he looks ble acquaintance, as I have lately found by on a picture should examine it according to experience. You must know, sir, that at that share of reason he is master of, or he the beginning of this summer a family of will be in danger of making a wrong judg- these apes came and settled for the season ment. If men when they walk abroad not far from the place where I live. As would make more frequent observations on they were strangers in the country, they those beauties of nature which every mo- were visited by the ladies about them, of ment present themselves to their view, they whom I was one, with a humanity usual in would be better judges when they saw her those who pass most of their time in soliwell imitated at home. This would help tude. The apes lived with us very agreeto correct those errors which most preten- ably our own way until towards the end of ders fall into, who are over hasty in their the summer, when they began to bethink judgments, and will not stay to let reason themselves of returning to town; then it come in for a share in the decision. It is was, Mr. Spectator, that they began to set for want of this that men mistake in this themselves about the proper and distincase, and in common life, a wild extrava-guishing business of their character; and as gant pencil for one that is truly bold and great, an impudent fellow for a man of true courage and bravery, hasty and unreasonable actions for enterprises of spirit and resolution, gaudy colouring for that which is truly beautiful, a false and insinuating discourse for simple truth elegantly recommended. The parallel will hold through all the parts of life and painting too; and the virtuosos above mentioned will be glad *o see you draw it with your terms of art. it is said of evil spirits, that they are apt to carry away a piece of the house they are about to leave, the apes, without regard to common mercy, civility, or gratitude, thought fit to mimic and fall foul on the faces, dress, and behaviour of their innocent neighbours, bestowing abominable censures and disgraceful appellations, commonly called nick-names, on all of them; and in short, like true fine ladies, made their honest plainness and sincerity matter of ridicule. I could not but acquaint you | among us, and which are very proper to with these grievances, as well at the desire of all the parties injured, as from my own inclination. I hope, sir, if you cannot propose entirely to reform this evil, you will take such notice of it in some of your future speculations, as may put the deserving part of our sex on their guard against these creatures; and at the same time the apes may be sensible that this sort of mirth is so far from an innocent diversion, that it is in the highest degree that vice which is said to comprehend all others. I am, sir, your humble servant, T: 'CONSTANTIA FIELD.' No. 245.] Tuesday, December 11, 1711. pass away a winter night for those who do not care to throw away their time at an opera, or the play-house. I would gladly know in particular, what notion you have of hot-cockles; as also, whether you think that questions and commands, mottoes, similies, and cross-purposes, have not more mirth and wit in them than those public diversions which are grown so very fashionable among us. If you would recommend to our wives and daughters, who read your papers with a great deal of pleasure, some of those sports and pastimes that may be practised within doors, and by the fire side, we who are masters of families should be hugely obliged to you. I need not tell you that I would have these sports and pastimes not only merry but innocent; for which reason I have not mentioned either whisk or lanterloo, nor indeed so much as one-and-thirty. After having communi THERE is nothing which one regards so cated to you my request upon this subject, much with an eye of mirth and pity as in- I will be so free as to tell you how my wife nocence, when it has in it a dash of folly. and I pass away these tedious winter even At the same time that one esteems the vir-ings with a great deal of pleasure. Though tue, one is tempted to laugh at the simplicity which accompanies it. When a man is made up wholly of the dove, without the least grain of the serpent in his composition, he becomes ridiculous in many circumstances of life, and very often discredits his best actions. The Cordeliers tell a story of their founder St. Francis, that as he passed the streets in the dusk of the evening, he discovered a young fellow with a maid in a corner; upon which the good man, say they, lifted up his hands to heaven with a secret thanksgiving, that there was still so much Christian charity in the world. The innocence of the saint made him mistake the kiss of the lover for a salute of charity. I am heartily concerned when I see a virtuous man without a competent knowledge of the world; and if there be any use in these my papers, it is this, that without representing vice under any false alluring notions, they give my reader an insight into the ways of men, and represent human nature in all its changeable colours. The man who has not been engaged in any of the follies of the world, or, as Shakspeare expresses it, hackneyed in the ways of men,' may here find a picture of its follies and extravagances. The virtuous and the innocent may know in speculation what they could never arrive at by practice, and by this means avoid the snares of the crafty, the corruptions of the vicious, and the reasonings of the prejudiced. Their minds may be opened without being vitiated, It is with an eye to my following correspondent, Mr. Timothy Doodle, who seems a very well-meaning man, that I have written this short preface, to which I shall sub she be young and handsome, and good humoured to a miracle, she does not care for gadding abroad like others of her sex. There is a very friendly man, a colonel in the army, whom I am mightily obliged to for his civilities, that comes to see me almost every night; for he is not one of those giddy young fellows that cannot live out of a play-house. When we are together, we very often make a party at Blind-man's Buff, which is a sport that I like the better, because there is a good deal of exercise in it. The colonel and I are blinded by turns, and you would laugh your heart out to see what pains my dear takes to hoodwink us, so that it is impossible for us to see the least glimpse of light. The poor colonel some times hits his nose against a post, and makes us die with laughing. I have gene rally the good luck not to hurt myself, but am very often above half an hour before I can catch either of them; for you must know we hide ourselves up and down in corners, that we may have the more sport. I only give you this hint as a sample of such innocent diversions as I would have you recommend; and am, most esteemed sir, your ever-loving friend, TIMOTHY DOODLE.' The following letter was occasioned by my last Thursday's paper upon the absence of lovers, and the methods therein mentioned of making such absence supportable. 'SIR,-Among the several ways of consolation which absent lovers make use of while their souls are in that state of departure, which you say is death in love, there are some very material ones that have escaped 'SIR,-I could heartily wish that you your notice. Among these, the first and would let us know your opinion upon seve- most received is a crooked shilling, which ral innocent diversions which are in usel has administered great comfort to our fore 'oin a letter from the said Mr. Doodle. -Ουκ άρα σοι γε πατήρ ην ιπποτα Πηλευς, No amorous hero ever gave thee birth, Pope. fathers, and is still made use of on this oc- | No. 246.] Wednesday, December 12, 1711. casion with very good effect in most parts of her majesty's dominions. There are some, I know, who think a crown piece cut into two equal parts, and preserved by the distant lovers, is of more sovereign virtue than the former. But since opinions are divided in this particular, why may not the same persons make use of both? The figure of a heart, whether cut in stone or cast in metal, whether bleeding upon an altar, stuck with darts, or held in the hand 'MR. SPECTATOR,-As your paper is of a Cupid, has always been looked upon part of the equipage of the tea-table, I as talismanic in distresses of this nature. I conjure you to print what I now write to am acquainted with many a brave fellow you; for I have no other way to communiwho carries his mistress in the lid of his cate what I have to say to the fair sex on snuff-box, and by that expedient has sup the most important circumstance of life, ported himself under the absence of a whole even "the care of children." I do not uncampaign. For my own part, I have tried derstand that you profess your paper is alall these remedies, but never found so much ways to consist of matters which are only benefit from any as from a ring, in which to entertain the learned and polite, but that my mistress's hair is plaited together very it may agree with your design to publish artificially in a kind of true-lover's knot. some which may tend to the information As I have received great benefit from this of mankind in general; and when it does secret, I think myself obliged to communi- so, you do more than writing wit and hucate it to the public for the good of my mour. Give me leave then to tell you, that fellow-subjects. I desire you will add this of all the abuses that ever you have as yet letter as an appendix to your consolations endeavoured to reform, certainly not one upon absence, and am, your very humble wanted so much your assistance as the servant, T. B.' abuse in nursing of children. It is unmerciful to see, that a woman endowed with all the perfections and blessings of nature, can, as soon as she is delivered, turn off her innocent, tender, and helpless infant, and give it up to a woman that is (ten thousand to one,) neither in health nor good condition, neither sound in mind nor body, that has neither honour nor reputation, neither love nor pity for the poor babe, but more regard for the money than for the whole child, and never will take farther care of it than what by all the encouragement of money and presents she is forced to; like Esop's earth, which would not nurse the plant of another ground, although never so much improved, by reason that plant was not of its own production. And since an other's child is no more natural to a nurse than a plant to a strange and different ground, how can it be supposed that the child should thrive; and if it thrives, must it not imbibe the gross humours and qualities of the nurse, like a plant in a different ground, or like, a graft upon a different stock? Do not we observe, that a lamb sucking a goat changes very much its nature, nay, even its skin and wool into the goat kind? The power of a nurse over a child, by infusing into it with her milk her qualities and disposition, is sufficiently and daily observed. Hence came that old saying concerning an ill-natured and malicious fellow, that he had imbibed his malice with his nurse's milk, or that some brute or other had been his nurse. Hence Romulus and Remus were said to have been nursed by a wolf; Telephus, the son of Hercules, by a hind; Pelias, the son of Nep I shall conclude this paper with a letter from a university gentleman, occasioned by my last Tuesday's paper, wherein I gave some account of the great feuds which happened formerly in those learned bodies, between the modern Greeks and Trojans. SIR,This will give you to understand, that there is at present in the society, whereof I am a member, a very considerable body of Trojans, who, upon a proper occasion, would not fail to declare ourselves. In the meanwhile we do all we can to annoy our enemies by stratagem, and are resolved by the first opportunity to attack Mr. Joshua Barnes, whom we look upon as the Achilles of the opposite party. As for myself, I have had the reputation ever since I came from school, of being a trusty Trojan, and am resolved never to give quarter to the smallest particle of Greek, wherever I chance to meet it. It is for this reason I take it very ill of you, that you sometimes hang out Greek colours at the head of your paper, and sometimes give a word of the enemy even in the body of it. When I meet with any thing of this nature, I throw down your speculations upon the table, with that form of words which we make use of when we declare war upon an author, Græcum est, non potest legi. I give you this hint, that you may for the future abstain from any such hostilities at your peril. "TROILUS.? tune by a mare; and gisthus by a goat; not that they had actually sucked such creatures, as some simpletons have imagined, but that their nurses had been of such a nature and temper, and infused such into them. ment, that a mother is weakened by giving suck to her children, iş vain and simple. I will maintain that the mother grows stronger by it, and will have her health better than she would have otherwise. She will find it the greatest cure and preservative for the vapours and future miscar riages, much beyond any other remedy whatsoever. Her children will be like giants, whereas otherwise they are but living shadows, and like unripe fruit; and certainly if a woman is strong enough to bring forth a child, she is beyond all doubt strong enough to nurse it afterwards. It grieves me to observe and consider how many poor children are daily ruined careless nurses; and yet how tender ought they to be to a poor infant, since the least hurt or blow, especially upon the head, may make it senseless, stupid, or otherwise miserable for ever! 'Many instances may be produced from good authorities and daily experience, that children actually suck in the several passions and depraved inclinations of their nurses, as anger, malice, fear, melancholy, sadness, desire, and aversion. This, Diodorus, lib. 2. witnesses, when he speaks, saying, that Nero the emperor's nurse had been very much addicted to drinking; which habit Nero received from his nurse, and was so very particular in this, that the people took so much notice of it, as instead of Tiberius Nero, they called him Biberius Mero. The same Diodorus also relates of Caligula, predecessor to Nero, that his nurse used to moisten the nipples of her 'But I cannot well leave this subject as breast frequently with blood, to make Ca- yet; for it seems to me very unnatural that ligula take the better hold of them; which, a woman that has fed a child as part of says Diodorus, was the cause that made herself for nine months, should have no him so blood-thirsty and cruel all his life- desire to nurse it farther, when brought to time after, that he not only committed light and before her eyes, and when by its frequent murder by his own hand, but like- cry it implores her assistance and the office wise wished that all human kind wore but of a mother. Do not the very cruellest of one neck that he might have the pleasure brutes tend their young ones with all the to cut it off. Such like degeneracies asto- care and delight imaginable? How can she nish the parents, who not knowing after be called a mother that will not nurse her whom the child can take, see one inclined young ones? The earth is called the mother to stealing, another to drinking, cruelty, of all things, not because she produces, but stupidity; yet all these are not minded. because she maintains and nurses what she Nay, it is easy to demonstrate, that a child, produces. The generation of the infant is although it be born from the best of parents, the effect of desire, but the care of it armay be corrupted by an ill-tempered nurse.gues virtue and choice. I am not ignorant How many children do we see daily brought but that there are some cases of necessity, into fits, consumptions, rickets, &c. merely where a mother cannot give suck, and then by sucking their nurses when in a passion out of two evils the least must be chosen; or fury? But indeed almost any disorder but there are so very few, that I am sure of the nurse is a disorder to the child, and in a thousand there is hardly one real infew nurses can be found in this town but stance; for if a woman does but know that what labour under some distemper or other. her husband can spare about three or six The first question that is generally asked shillings a week extraordinary, (although a young woman that wants to be a nurse, this is but seldom considered,) she cerwhy she should be a nurse to other peo-tainly, with the assistance of her gossips, ple's children, is answered, by her having will soon persuade the good man to send an ill husband, and that she must make the child to nurse, and easily impose upon shift to live. I think now this very answer him by pretending indisposition. This cruis enough to give any body a shock if duly elty is supported by fashion, and nature considered; for an ill husband may, or ten gives place to custom. Sir, your humble to one if he does not, bring home to his wife servant.' an ill distemper, or at least vexation and disturbance. Besides, as she takes the child out of mere necessity, her food will be accordingly, or else very coarse at best; No. 247.] Thursday, December 13, 1711. Των δ' ακάματος ρεει αυδή Hesiod. T. whence proceeds an ill-concocted and coarse food for the child; for as the blood, Εκ στομάτων ηδεία. so is the milk; and hence I am very well assured proceeds the scurvy, the evil, and Their untir'd lips a wordy torrent pour. many other distempers. I beg of you, for WE are told by some ancient authors, the sake of the many poor infants that may that Socrates was instructed in eloquence and will be saved by weighing this case by a woman whose name, if I am not misseriously, to exhort the people with the taken, was Aspasia. I have indeed very utmost vehemence, to let the children suck often looked upon that art as the most protheir own mothers, both for the benefit of per for the female sex, and I think the unimother and child. For the general argu-versities would do well to consider whether |
