to the world; but instead of this, we find that it is generally made use of to laugh men out of virtue and good sense, by attacking every thing that is solemn and serious, decent and praiseworthy in human life. We may observe that in the first ages of the world, when the great souls and master-pieces of human nature were produced, men shined by a noble simplicity of behaviour, and were strangers to those little embellishments which are so fashionable in our present conversation. And it is very remarkable, that notwithstanding we fall short at present of the ancients in poetry, painting, oratory, history, architecture, and all the noble arts and sciences which depend more upon genius than experience, we exceed them as much in doggrel humour, burlesque, and all the trivial arts of ridicule. We meet with more raillery among the moderns, but more good sense among the ancients. The two great branches of ridicule in writing are comedy and burlesque. The first ridicules persons by drawing them in their proper characters, the other by drawing them quite unlike themselves. Burlesque is therefore of two kinds; the first represents mean persons in the accoutrements of heroes; the other describes great persons acting and speaking like the basest among the people. Don Quixote is an instance of the first, and Lucian's gods of the second. It is a dispute among the critics, whether burlesque poetry runs best in heroic verse, like that of the Dispensary; or in doggrel, like that of Hudibras. I think where the low character is to be raised, the heroic is the proper measure; but when a hero is to be pulled down and degraded, it is done best in doggrel. If Hudibras had been set out with as much wit and humour in heroic verse as he is in doggrel, he would have made a much more agreeable figure than he does; though the generality of his readers are so wonderfully pleased with the double rhymes, that I do not expect many will be of my opinion in this particular. I shall conclude this essay upon laughter with observing that the metaphor of laughing, applied to fields and meadows when they are in flower, or to trees when they are in blossom, runs through all languages; which I have not observed of any other metaphor, excepting that of fire and burning when they are applied to love. This shows that we naturally regard laughter, as what is in itself both amiable and beautiful. For this reason likewise Venus has gained the title of Philomydes "the laughter-loving dame," as Waller has translated it, and is represented by Horace as the goddess who delights in laughter. Milton, in a joyous assembly of imaginary persons, has given us a very poetical figure of Laughter. His whole band of mirth is so finely described, that I shall set down the passage at length: "You see the nature of my request by the Latin motto which I address to you. I am very sensible I ought not to use many words to you, who are one of but few; but the following piece, as it relates to speculation, in propriety of speech, being a curiosity in its kind, begs your patience. It was found in a poetical virtuoso's closet among his rarities; and since the several treatises of thumbs, cars, and noses, have obliged the world, this of eyes is at your service. "The first eye of consequence (under the invisible Author of all) is the visible luminary of the universe. This glorious Spectator is said never to open his eyes at his rising in a morning, without having a whole kingdom of adorers in Persian silk waiting at his levee. Millions of creatures derive their sight from this original, who besides his being the great director of optics, is the surest test whether eyes be of the same species with that of an eagle, or that of an owl. The one he emboldens with a manly assurance to look, speak, act, or plead, before the faces of a numerous assembly; the other he dazzles out of countenance into a sheepish dejectedness. The sun-proof eye dares lead up a dance in a full court: and without blinking at the lustre of beauty, can distribute an eye of proper complaisance to a room crowded with company, each of which deserves particular regard; while the other sneaks from conversation, like a fearful debtor who never dares to look out, but when he can see nobody, and nobody him. "The next instance of optics is the famous Argus, who (to speak in the language of Cambridge) was one of a hundred; and being used as a spy in the affairs of jealousy, was obliged to have all his eyes about him. We have no account of the particular colours, casts, and turns, of this body of eyes; but as he was pimp for his mistress Juno, it is probable he used all the modern leers, sly glances, and other ocular activities, to serve his purpose. Some look upon him as the then king at arms to the heathenish deities; and make no more of his eyes than of so many spangles of his herald's coat. "The next upon the optic list is old Janus, who stood in a double-sighted capacity, like a person placed betwixt two opposite looking-glasses, and so took a sort of retrospective cast at one view. Copies of this double-faced way are not yet out of fashion with many professions, and the ingenious artists pretend to keep up this species by double-headed canes and spoons; but there is no mark of this faculty, except in the emblematical way, of a wise general having an eye to both front and rear, or a pious man taking a review and prospect of his past and future state at the same time. lar endeavours in the province of Spectator, to correct the offences committed by Starers, who disturb whole assemblies without any regard to time, place, or modesty. You complained also, that a starer is not usually a person to be con vinced by the reason of the thing, nor so easily rebuked as to amend by admonitions. I thought therefore fit to acquaint you with a convenient "I must own, that the names, colours, qualities, and turns of eyes, vary almost in every head; for, not to mention the common appellations of the black, and the blue, the white, the gray, and the like; the most remarkable are those that borrow their titles from animals, by virtue of some par-mechanical way, which may easily prevent or corticular quality of resemblance they bear to the eyes of the respective creatures; as that of a greedy rapacious aspect takes its name from the cat, that of a sharp piercing nature from the hawk, those of an amorous roguish look derive their title even from the sheep, and we say such a one has a sheep's-eye, not so much to denote the innocence, as the simple slyness, of the cast. Nor is this metaphorical inoculation a modern invention, for we find Homer taking the freedom to place the eye of an ox, bull, or cow, in one of his principal god. desses, by that frequent expression of The ox-eyed venerable Junc rect staring, by an optical contrivance of new perspective-glasses, short and commodious like opera glasses, fit for short-sighted people as well as others, these glasses making the objects appear either as they are seen by the naked eye, or more distinct, though somewhat less than life, or bigger and nearer. A person may, by the help of this invention, take a view of another without the impertinence of staring; at the same time it shall not be possible to know whom or what he is looking at. One may look towards his right or left hand, when he is supposed to look forwards. This is set forth at large in the printed proposals for the sale of these glasses, to be had at Mr. Dillon's in Longacre, next door to the White Hart. Now, Sir, as this invention for the benefit of modest spectators, your Spectator has occasioned the publishing of the inventor desires your admonitions concerning the decent use of it; and hopes, by your recom mendation, that for the future beauty may be beheld without the torture and confusion which it suffers from the insolence of starers. By this means you will relieve the innocent from an insult which there is no law to punish, though it is a greater offence than many which are within the cognisance of justice." "Now as to the peculiar qualities of the eye, that fine part of our constitution seems as much the rectacle and seat of our passions, appetites, and inclinations, as the mind itself; at least it is the outward portal to introduce them to the house within, or rather the common thoroughfare to let our affections pass in and out. Love, anger, pride, and avance, all visibly move in those little orbs. I know a young lady that cannot see a certain gentleman pass by without showing a secret desire of seeing him again by a dance in her eye-balls; nay, she cannot, for the heart of her, help looking half a street's length after any man in a gay dress. You cannot behold a covetous spirit walk by a goldsmith's shop without casting a wishful eye at the heaps upon the counter. Does not a haughty person show the temper of his soul in the supercilious No. 251.] TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1711. roll of his eye? and how frequently in the height of passion does that moving picture in our head start and stare, gather a redness and quick flashes of lightning, and make all its humours sparkle with fire, as Virgil finely describes it, Ardentis ab ore Scintillæ absistunt: OCULIS micat acribus ignis.-Æn. xii. 101 A fiery stream, and sparkles from his eyes.-Dryden. As for the various turns of the eye-sight, such as the voluntary or involuntary, the half or the whole leer, I shall not enter into a very particular account of them; but let me observe, that oblique vision, when natural, was anciently the mark of bewitchery and magical fascination, and to this day it is a malignant ill look; but when it is forced and affected, it carries a wanton design, and in playhouses, and other public places, this ocular intimation is often an assignation for bad practices. But this irregularity in vision, together with such enormities, as tipping the wink, the circumspective roll, the side-peep through a thin hood or fan, must be put in the class of Heteroptics, as all wrong notions of religion are ranked under the general name of Heterodox. All the pernicious applica tions of sight are more immediately under the direction of a Spectator, and I hope you will arm your readers against the mischiefs which are daily done by killing eyes, in which you will highly oblige your wounded unknown friend, "T. B." "MR. SPECTATOR, Q. "I am, Sir, your most humble servant, Ferrea vox -Lingue centum sunt, oraque centum, THERE is nothing which more astonishes a foreigner, and frights a country squire, than the Cries of London. My good friend Sir Roger often declares that he cannot get them out of his head or go to sleep for them, the first week that he is in town. On the contrary, Will Honeycombe calls them the Kamage de la Ville, and prefers them to the sound of larks and nightingales, with all the music of fields and woods. I have lately received a letter from some very odd fellow upon this subject, which I shall leave with my reader, without saying any thing further of it. "SIR, "I am a man out of all business, and would willingly turn my head to any thing for an honest livelihood. I have invented several projects for raising many millions of money without burdening the subject, but I cannot get the parliament to listen to me, who look upon me, forsooth, as a crack, and a proector; so that despairing to enrich either myself or my country by this public-spiritedness, I would make some proposals to you relating to a desigu which I have very much at heart, and which may procure me a handsome subsistence, if you will be pleased to recommend it to the cities of London and Westminster. "The post I would aim at, is to be comptroller"You professed in several papers your particu-general of the London Cries, which are at present under no manner of rules or discipline. I think I am pretty well qualified for this place, as being a man of very strong lungs, of great insight into all the branches of our British trades and manufactures, and of a competent skill in music. "The Cries of London may be divided into vocal and instrumental. As for the latter, they are at present under a very great disorder. A freeman of London has the privilege of disturbing a whole street for an hour together, with a twanking of a brass kettle or frying-pan. The watchman's thump at midnight startles us in our beds as much as the breaking in of a thief. The sowgelder's horn has indeed something musical in it, but this is seldom heard within the liberties. I would therefore propose, that no instrument of this nature should be made use of, which I have not tuned and licensed, after having carefully examined in what manner it may affect the ears of her majesty's liege subjects. "Vocal cries are of a much larger extent, and indeed so full of incongruities and barbarisms, that we appear a distracted city to foreigners, who do Lot comprehend the meaning of such enormous outcries. Milk is generally sold in a note above E-la, and in sounds so exceedingly shrill, that it often sets our teeth on edge. The chimney-sweeper is confined to no certain pitch; he sometimes utters himself in the deepest bass, and sometimes in the sharpest treble; sometimes in the highest, and sometimes in the lowest, note of the gamut. The same observation might be made on the retailers of small-coal, not to mention broken glasses, or brick-dust. In these, therefore, and the like cases, it should be my care to sweeten and mellow the voices of these itinerant tradesmen, before they make their appearance in our streets, as also to accommodate their cries to their respective wares; and to take care in particular, that those may not make the most noise, who have the least to sell, which is very observable in the venders of cardmatches, to whom I cannot but apply that old proverb of Much cry, but little wool.' "Some of these last-mentioned musicians are so very loud in the sale of these trifling manufactures, that an honest splenetic gentleman of my acquaintance bargained with one of them never to come into the street where he lived. But what was the effect of this contract? Why the whole tribe of card-matchmakers which frequent that quarter passed by his door the very next day, in hopes of being bought off after the same manner. and are in my opinion much more tuneable than the former. The cooper in particular swells his last note in a hollow voice, that is not without its harmony; nor can I forbear being inspired with a most agreeable melancholy, when I hear that sad and solemn air with which the public are very often asked, if they have any chairs to mend? Your own memory may suggest to you many other lamentable ditties of the same nature, in which the music is wonderfully languishing and melodious. "I am always pleased with that particular time of the year which is proper for the pickling of dill and cucumbers; but alas! this cry, like the song of the nightingale, is not heard above two months. It would therefore be worth while to consider, whether the same air might not in some cases be adapted to other words. "It might likewise deserve our most serious consideration, how far, in a well-regulated city, those humourists are to be tolerated, who, not contented with the traditional cries of their forefathers, have invented particular songs and tunes of their own: such as was, not many years since, the pastry-man, commonly known by the name of the Colly-MollyPuff:* and such as is at this day the vender of powder and wash-balls, who, if I am rightly informed, goes under the name of Powder-Wat. "I must not here omit one particular absurdity which runs through this whole vociferous generation, and which renders their cries very often not only incommodious, but altogether useless to the public I mean, that idle accomplishment which they all of them aim at, of crying so as not to be understood. Whether or no they have learned this from several of our affected singers, I will not take upon me to say; but most certain it is, that people know the wares they deal in rather by their tunes than by their words; insomuch that I have sometimes seen a country boy run out to buy apples of a bellowsmender, and gingerbread from a grinder of knives and scissars. Nay, so strangely infatuated are some very eminent artists of this particular grace in a cry, that none but their acquaintance are able to guess at their profession; for who else can know, that work if I had it' should be the signification of a corn-cutter? "Forasmuch, therefore, as persons of this rank are seldom men of genius of capacity I think it would be very proper that some men of good sense and sound judgment should preside over these public cries, who should permit none to lift up their voices "It is another great imperfection in our London in our streets, that have not tuneable throats, and Cries, that there is no just time nor measure ob- are not only able to overcome the noise of the crowd, served in them. Our news should indeed be pub- and the rattling of coaches, but also to vend their lished in a very quick time, because it is a commo- respective merchandises in apt phrases, and in the dity that will not keep cold. It should not, how-most distinct and agreeable sounds. I do therefore ever, be cried with the same precipitation as fire. Yet this is generally the case. A bloody battle alarms the town from one end to another in an in. stant. Every motion of the French is published in so great a hurry, that one would think the enemy were at our gates. This likewise I would take upon me to regulate in such a manner, that there should be some distinction made between the spreading of a victory, a march, or an encampment, a Dutch, a Portugal, or a Spanish mail. Nor must I omit under this head those excessive alarms with which several boisterous rustics infest our streets in turnip season; and which are more inexcusable, because they are wares which are in no danger of cooling apon their hands. "There are others who affect a very slow time, humbly recommend myself as a person rightly quali C. "RALPH CROTCHET." This little man was but just able to support the basket of liar tone the cant words which passed into his name Collypastry which he carried on his head. and sung in a very pecuMolly-Put. There is a half-sheet print of him in the Set of London Cries, M. Lauron, del. P. Terapest, exc. Granger's Biographical History of England. No. 252.] WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1711.this is heathen Greek to those who have not con versed by glances. This, Sir, is a language in "MR. SPECTATOR, "I have a sot of a husband that lives a very scandalous life; who wastes away his body and fortune in debaucheries; and is immoveable to all the arguments I can urge to him. I would gladly know whether in some cases a cudgel may not be allowed as a good figure of speech, and whether it may not be lawfully used by a female orator. "Your humble Servant, "MR. SPECTATOR, "BARBARA CRABTREE." Erranti, passimque oculos per cuncta ferenti. VIRO. Æn. ii. 570. Exploring every place with curious eyes. "MR. SPECTATOR, "I AM very sorry to find by your discourse upon the eye, that you have not thoroughly studied the nature and force of that part of a beauteous face. Had you ever been in love, you would have said ten thousand things, which it seems did not occur to you. Do but reflect upon the nonsense it makes men talk; the flames which it is said to kindle, the transport it raises, the dejection it causes in the bravest men, and if you do believe those things are expressed to an extravagance, yet you will own, that the influence of it is very great, which moves men to that extravagance. Certain it is, that the whole strength of the mind is sometimes seated there; that a kind look imparts all that a year's discourse could give you, in one moment. What matters it what she says to you? see how she looks,' is the language of all who know what love is. When the mind is thus summed up, and expressed in a glance, did you never observe a sudden joy arise in the Though I am a practitioner in the law of some countenance of a lover? Did you never see the at- standing, aud have heard many eminent pleaders tendance of years paid, overpaid in an instant? in my time, as well as other eloquent speakers of You a Spectator, and not know that the intelligence both universities, yet I agree with you, that women of affection is carried ou by the eye only; that good- are better qualified to succeed in oratory than the breeding has made the tongue falsify the heart, and men, and believe this is to be resolved into natural act a part of continual restraint, while nature has causes. You have mentioned only the volubility preserved the eyes to herself, that she may not be of their tongues; but what do you think of the disguised or misrepresented. The poor bride can silent flattery of their pretty faces, and the persua give her hand, and say, I do,' with a languishing sion which even an insipid discourse carries with it air, to the man she is obliged by cruel parents to when flowing from beautiful lips, to which it would take for mercenary reasons, but at the same time be cruel to deny any thing? It is certain, too, that she cannot look as if she loved; her eye is full of they are possessed of some springs of rhetoric which sorrow, and reluctance sits in a tear, while the of men want, such as tears, fainting fits, and the like, fering of a sacrifice is performed in what we call which I have seen employed upon occasion, with the marriage ceremony. Do you never go to plays? good success. You must know that I am a plain Cannot you distinguish between the eyes of those man, and love my money; yet I have a spouse who who go to see, from those who come to be seen? I is so great an orator in this way, that she draws am a woman turned of thirty, and am on the obser- from me what sum she pleases. Every room in my vation a little; therefore, if you or your corre- house is furnished with trophies of her eloquence, spondent had consulted me in your discourse on the rich cabinets, piles of china, japan screens, and eye, I could have told you that the eye of Leonora costly jars; and if you were to come into my great is slily watchful while it looks negligent; she looks parlour, you would fancy yourself in an India wareround her without the help of the glasses you speak house. Besides this she keeps a squirrel, and I am of, and yet seems to be employed on objects directly doubly taxed to pay for the china he breaks. She before her. This eye is what affects chance-medley, is seized with periodical fits about the time of the and on a sudden, as if it attended to another thing, subscriptions to a new opera, and is drowned in turns all its charms against an ogler. The eye of tears after having seen any woman there in finer Lusitania is an instrument of premeditated murder; clothes than herself. These are arts of persuasion but the design being visible, destroys the execution purely feminine, and which a tender heart cannot of it; and with much more beauty than that of Leo-resist. nora, it is not half 30 mischievous. There is a brave prevail with your friend who has promised to dissoldier's daughter in town, that by her eye has been sect a female tongue, that he would at the same the death of more than ever her father made fly be- time give us the anatomy of a female eye, and exfore him. A beautiful eye makes silence eloquent, plain the springs and sluices which feed it with such a kind eye makes contradiction an assent, an en-ready supplies of moisture; and likewise show by raged eye makes beauty deformed. This little mem- what means, if possible, they may be stopped at a ber gives life to every other part about us, and I be- reasonable expense. Or indeed, since there is Vieve the story of Argus implies no more, than that the eye is in every part; that is to say, every other part would be mutilated, were not its force represented more by the eye than even by itself. ADAPTED. With various power the wonder-working eye But The motto in the origmal folio was different, and likewise taken from Virg. Eel. in 103. What I would therefore desire of you, is, to something so moving in the very image of weeping beauty, it would be worthy his art to provide, that these eloquent drops may no more be lavished on trifles, or employed as servants to their wayward wills; but reserved for serious occasions in life, to adorn generous pity, true penitence, or real sorrow. "I am," &c. T Nescio quis teneros culus mihi fascinat agnos. THERE is nothing which more denotes a great mind than the abhorrence of envy and detraction. This passion reigns more among bad poets than any other set of men. As there are none more ambitious of fame than those who are conversant in poetry, it is very natural for such as have not succeeded in it, to depreciate those who have. For since they cannot raise themselves to the reputation of their fellow-writers, they must endeavour to sink that to their own pitch, if they would still keep themselves upon a level with them. The greatest wits that ever were proauced in one age, lived together in so good an understanding, and celebrated one another with so much generosity, that each of them receives an additional lustre from his contemporaries, and is more famous for having lived with men of so extraordinary a genius, than if he had himself been the sole wonder of the age. I need not tell my reader, that I here point at the reign of Augustus; and I believe he will be of my opinion, that neither Virgil nor Horace would have gained so great a reputation in the world, had they not been the friends and admirers of each other. Indeed all the great writers of that age, for whom singly we have so great an esteem, stand up together as vouchers for one another's reputation. But at the same time that Virgil was celebrated by Gallus, Propertius, Horace, Varius, Tucca, and Ovid, we know that Bavius and Mævius were his declared foes and calumniators. In our own country a man seldom sets up for a poet, without attacking the reputation of all his brothers in the art. The ignorance of the moderns, the scribblers of the age, the decay of poetry, are the topics of detraction with which he makes his entrance into the world: but how much more noble is the fame that is built on candour and ingenuity, they are placed in so beautiful a light, and illus trated with such apt allusions, that they have in them all the graces of novelty, and make the reader who was before acquainted with them, still more convinced of their truth and solidity. And here give me leave to mention what Monsieur Boileau has so very well enlarged upon in the preface to his works, that wit and fine writing do not consist so much in advancing things that are new, as in giving things that are known an agreeable turn. It is impossible for us, who live in the latter ages of the world, to make observations in criticism, morality, or in any art or science, which have not been touched upon by others. We have little else left us, but to represent the common sense of mankind in more strong, more beautiful, or more uncommon lights. If a reader examines Horace's Art of Poetry, he will find but very few precepts in it, which he may not meet with in Aristotle, and which were not commonly known by all the poets of the Augustan age. His way of expressing and applying them, not his invention of them, is what we are chiefly to admire. For this reason I think there is nothing in the world so tiresome as the works of those critics who write in a positive dogmatic way, without either language, genius, or imagination. If the reader would see how the best of the Latin critics wrote, he may find their manner very beautifully described in the characters of Horace, Petronius, Quintilian, and Longinus, as they are drawn in the essay of which I am now speaking. Since I have mentioned Longinus, who in his reflections has given us the same kind of sublime, which he observes in the several passages that occa sioned them; I cannot but take notice that our English author has after the same manner exemplified several of his precepts in the very precepts themselves. I shall produce two or three instances of this kind. Speaking of the insipid smoothness which some readers are so much in love with, he has the following verses: These equal syllables alone require, according to those beautiful lines of Sir John Den- expletive "do" in the third, and the ten monosylham, in his poem on Fletcher's works: But whither am I stray'd? I need not raise, Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt I am sorry to find that an author, who is very justly esteemed among the best judges, has admitted some strokes of this nature into a very fine poem; I mean the Art of Criticism, which was published some months since, and is a master-piece in its kind. The observations follow one another like those in Horace's Art of Poetry, without that methodical regularity which would have been requisite in a prose author. They are some of them uncommon,† but such as the reader must assent to, when he sees them explained with that elegance and perspicuity in which they are delivered. As for those which are the most known, and the most received, lables in the fourth, give such a beauty to this passage, as would have been very much admired in an ancient poet. The reader may observe the follow ing lines in the same view: A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That like a wounded snake drags its slow length along. "Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The beautiful distich upon Ajax in the foregoing lines puts me in mind of a description in Homer's Odyssey, which none of the critics have taken notice of. It is where Sisyphus is represented lifting his stone up the hill, which is no sooner carried to the top of it, but it immediately tumbles to the bottom. This double motion of the stone is admirably de. |