concilement. 'MR. SPECTATOR, acquainted with their characters. Women It is the capricious state of love, to be attended with inmay disguise it if they think fit; and the more juries, suspicions, enmities, truces, quarrelling, and reto do it, they may be angry at me for saying it; but I say it is natural to them, that they I SHALL publish, for the entertainment of have no manner of approbation of men, without this day, an odd sort of a packet, which I have some degree of love. For this reason he is dan-just received from one of my female corresgerous to be entertained as a friend or visitant, pondents. who is capable of gaining any eminent esteem or observation, though it be never so remote Since you have often confessed that you from pretensions as a lover. If a man's heart has not the abhorrence of any treacherous de-are not displeased your papers should somesign, he may easily improve approbation into times convey the complaints of distressed kindness, and kindness into passion. There lovers to each other, I am in hopes you will may possibly be no manner of love between favour one who gives you an undoubted inthem in the eyes of all their acquaintance; no, it is all friendship; and yet they may be as time a convincing proof of the happy influfond as shepherd and shepherdess in a pasto-ence your labours have had over the most inral, but still the nymph and the swain may be corrigible part of the most incorrigible sex. to each other, no ether, I warrant you, than You must know, sir, I am one of that species Pylades and Orestes. of women, whom you have often characterized under the name of "jilts," and that I send stance of her reformation and at the same When Lucy decks with flowers her swelling breast, you these lines as well to do public penance And on her elbow leans, dissembling rest; Unable to refrain my madding mind, Nor sheep nor pasture worth my care I find. 'Once Delia slept, on easy moss reclin'd, Such good offices as these, and such friendly thoughts and concerns for one another, are what make up the amity, as they call it, between man and woman. for having so long continued in a known error, as to beg pardon of the party offended. I the rather choose this way, because it in some measure auswers the terms on which he intimated the breach between us might possibly be made up, as you will see by the letter he sent me the next day after I had discarded him; which I thought fit to send you a copy of, that you might the better know the whole case. It is the permission of such intercourse 'I must further acquaint you, that before that makes a young woman come to the arms jilted him, there had been the greatest inof her husband, after the disappointment of timacy between us for a year and a half tofour or five passions which she has successively gether, during all which time I cherished his had for different men, before she is pruden- hopes, and indulged his flame. I leave you to tially given to him for whom she has neither guess, after this, what must be his surprise, love nor friendship. For what should a poor when upon his pressing for my full consent creature do that has lost all her friends? one day, I told him I wondered what could There's Marinet the agreeable has, to my make him fancy he had ever any place in my knowledge, had a friendship for lord Welford, affections. His own sex allow him sense, and which had like to break her heart: then she all ours good-breeding. His person is such had so great a friendship for colonel Hardy, as might, without vanity, make him believe that she could not endure any woman else himself not incapable of being beloved. Our should do any thing but rail at him. Many fortunes indeed, weighed in the nice scale of and fatal have been disasters between friends interest, are not exactly equal, which by the who have fallen out, and these resentments way was the true cause of my jilting him; are more keen than ever those of other men and I had the assurance to acquaint him can possibly be; but in this it happens unfor-with the following maxim, that I should altunately, that as there ought to be nothing ways believe that man's passion to be the most concealed from one friend to another, the violent, who could offer me the largest settlefriends of different sexes very often find fatal ment. I have since changed my opinion, and effects from their unanimity. have endeavoured to let him know so much For my part, who study to pass life in as by several letters, but the barbarous man has much innocence and tranquillity as I can, I refused them all; so that I have no way left shun the company of agreeable women as much of writing to him but by your assistance. If as possible; and must confess that I have, you can bring him about once more, I promise though a tolerable good philosopher, but a to send you all gloves and favours, and shall low opinion of Platonic love: for which reason desire the favour of Sir Roger and yourself to I thought it necessary to give my fair readers stand as godfathers to my first boy. a caution against it, having, to my great concern, observed the waist of a Platonist lately swell to a roundness which is inconsistent with that philosophy. No. 401.] Tuesday, June 10, 1712 In amore hæc omnia insunt vitia. Injuriæ, Suspiciones inimitiæ, induciæ, T. 'I am, Sir, 'Your most obedient humble servant, 'AMORET.' Philander to Amoret. MADAM, 'I am so surprised at the question you were pleased to ask me yesterday, that I am still Bellum, pax rursum.-Ter. Eun. Act. 1. Sc. 1. at a loss what to say to it. At least my an swer would be too long to trouble you with, as receive from different hands, and persons of it would come from a person, who, it seems, different circumstances and quality, the very is so very indifferent to you. Instead of it, mention of them, without reflections on the I shall only recommend to your consideration several subjects, would raise all the passions the opinion of one whose sentiments on these which can be felt by human minds. As inmatters I have often heard you say are ex-stances of this, I shall give you two or three tremely just. "A generous and constant letters; the writers of which can have no repassion," says your favourite author, in an course to any legal power for redress, and agreeable lover, where there is not too great seem to have written rather to vent their sora disparity in their circumstances, is the great-row than to receive consolation. est blessing that can befal a person beloved; and, if overlooked in one, may perhaps never be found in another." MR. SPECTATOR, 'I am a young woman of beauty and qua'I do not, however, at all despair of being lity, and suitably married to a gentleman who very shortly much better beloved by you than doats on me. But this person of mine is the Antenor is at present; since, whenever my object of an unjust passion in a nobleman who fortune shall exceed his, you were pleased to is very intimate with my husband. This friendintimate your passion would increase accord-ship gives him very easy access and frequent ingly. opportunities of entertaining me apart. My The world has seen me shamefully lose heart is in the utmost anguish, and my face that time to please a fickle woman, which is covered over with confusion, when I impart might have been employed much more to to you another circumstance, which is, that my credit and advantage in other pursuits. my mother, the most mercenary of all women, I shall therefore take the liberty to acquaint is gained by this false friend of my husband's you, however harsh it may sound in a lady's to solicit me for him. I am frequently chid ears, that though your love-fit should hap-by the poor believing man, my husband, for pen to return, unless you could contrive a showing an impatience of his friend's compaway to make your recantation as well known to the public as they are already apprized of the manner with which you have treated me, you shall never more see 4 SIR, 'PHILANDER.' Amoret to Philander. ny; and I am never alone with my mother, but she tells me stories of the discretionary part of the world, and such a one, and such a one, who are guilty of as much as she advises me to. She laughs at my astonishment; and seems to hint to me, that, as virtuous as she has always appeared, I am not the daughter of her busband. It is possible that printing this letter 'Upon reflection, I find the injury I have may relieve me from the unnatural importunidone both to you and myself to be so great, ty of my mother, and the perfidious courtship that, though the part I now act may appear of my husband's friend. I have an unfeigned contrary to that decorum usually observed by love of virtue, and am resolved to preserve my our sex, yet I purposely break through all innocence. The only way I can think of to rules, that my repentance may in some mea- avoid the fatal consequences of the discovery sure equal my crime. I assure you, that in of this matter, is to fly away for ever, which I my present hopes of recovering you, I look must do to avoid my husband's fatal resentupon Antenor's estate with contempt. The ment against the man who attempts to abuse fop was here yesterday in a gilt, chariot and him, and the shame of exposing a parent to new liveries, but I refused to see him.infamy The persons concerned will know Though I dread to meet your eyes; after these circumstances relate to them; and, what has passed, I flatter myself, that, a-though the regard to virtue is dead in them, midst all their confusion, you will discover I have some hopes from their fear of shame such a tenderness in mine, as none can imi- upon reading this in your paper; which I contate but those who love. I shall be all this jure you to publish, if you have any compasmonth at lady D's in the country; but sion for injured virtue. the woods, the fields, and gardens, without Philander, afford no pleasure to the unhappy 'AMORET.' 'MR. SPECTATOR, 'SYLVIA.' 'I am the husband of a woman of merit, 'I must desire you, dear Mr. Spectator, to but am fallen in love, as they call it, with a publish this my letter to Philander as soon as lady of her acquaintance, who is going to be possible, and to assure him that I know no-married to a gentleman who deserves her. thing at all of the death of his rich uncle in I am in a trust relating to this lady's fortune, Gloucestershire.' No. 402.] Wednesday, June 11, 1712. et quæ X. which makes my concurrence in this matter necessary; but I have so irresistible a rage and envy rise in me when I consider his future happiness, that against all reason, equity, and common justice, I am ever playing mean tricks to suspend the nuptials. I have no manner of hopes for myself: Emilia, for so. I'll call her, is a woman of the most strict virtue; her lover is a gentleman whom of all WERE I to publish all the advertisements I others I could wish my friend; but envy and Ipse sibi tradit Spectator. Hor. Ars. Peet. 1. 181. Sent by the Spectator to himself. jealousy, though placed so unjustly, waste my under no more restraint in their company than very being; and, with the torment and sense if I were alone; and I doubt not but in a small of a demon, I am ever cursing what I cannot time contempt and hatred will take place of but approve. I wish it were the beginning of the remains of affection to a rascal. 'I am, Sir, 'Your affectionate reader, 'DORINDA.' MR. SPECTATOR, repentance, that I sit down and describe my present disposition with so hellish an aspect: but at present the destruction of these two excellent persons would be more welcome to me than their happiness. Mr. Spectator, pray let me have a paper on these terrible groundless sufferings, and do all you can to exor-I knew my nephews from my nieces and now cise crowds who are in some degree possessed as I am. MR. SPECTATOR, 'CANIBAL.' "I had the misfortune to be an uncle before we are grown up to better acquaintance, they deny me the respect they owe. One upbraids me with being their familiar, another will hardly be persuaded that I am an uncle, a third calls me little uncle, and a fourth tells me 'I have no other means but this to express there is no duty at all due to an uncle. I have my thanks to one man, and my resentment a brother-in-law whose son will win all my afagainst another. My circumstances are as fection, unless you shall think this worthy of follow: I have been for five years last past your cognizance, and will be pleased to precourted by a gentleman of greater fortune scribe some rules for our future reciprocal bethan I ought to expect, as the market for wo-haviour. It will be worthy the particularity men goes. You must, to be sure, have ob- of your genius to lay down some rules for his served people who live in that sort of way, as conduct who was, as it were, born an old man ; all their friends reckon it will be a match, and in which you will much oblige, are marked out by all the world for each other. In this view we have been regarded for some time, and I have above these three years loved him tenderly. As he is very careful of Ꭲ . Sir, 'Your most obedient servant, CORNELIUS NEPOS.' Qui mores homimum multorum vidit Hor. Are. Poet. v. 142. Of many men he saw the manners. WHEN I Consider this great city in its seve ral quarters and divisions, I look upon it as an aggregate of various nations distinguished from each other by their respective customs, manners, and interests. The courts of two countries do not so much differ from one another, as the court and city, in their peculiar ways of life and conversation. In short, the inhabitants of St. James's, notwithstanding they live under the same laws, and speak the same language, are a distinct people from those of Cheapside, who are likewise, removed from those of the Temple on the one side, and those of Smithfield on the other, by several climates and degrees in their way of thinking and conversing together. his fortune, I always thought he lived in a near No. 403.] Thursday, June 12, 1712. manner, to lay up what he thought was wanting in my fortune to make up what he might expect in another. Within these few months I have observed his carriage very much altered, and he has affected a certain air of getting me alone, and talking with a mighty profusion of passionate words, how I am not to be resisted longer, how irresistible his wishes are, and the like. As long as I have been acquainted with him, I could not on such occasions say down-right to him, "You know you may make me yours when you please." But the other night he with great frankness and impudence explained to me, that he thought of me only as a mistress. I answered this declaration as it deserved; upon which he only doubled the terms on which he proposed my yielding. When my anger heightened upon him, he told me he was sorry he had made so little use of the unguarded hours we had been together so remote from company, as indeed," continued he, "so we are at present." I flew For this reason, when any public affair is from him to a neighbouring gentlewoman's upon the anvil, I love to hear the reflections house, and though her husband was in the that arise upon it in the several districts and room, threw myself on a couch, and burst in- parishes of London and Westminster, and to to a passion of tears. My friend desired her ramble up and down a whole day together, in husband to leave the room. "But," said he, order to make myself acquainted with the opin"there is something so extraordinary in this, ions of my ingenious countrymen. By this that I will partake in the affliction; and, be means I know the faces of all the principal it what it will, she is so much your friend, politicians within the bills of mortality; and that she kuows she may command what ser- as every coffee-house has some particular vices I can do her." The man sat down by statesman belonging to it, who is the mouth of me, and spoke so like a brother, that I told him the street where he lives, I always take care to my whole affliction. He spoke of the injury place myself near him, in order to know his done me with so much indignation, and ani- judgment on the present posture of affairs. mated me against the love he said he saw I had The last progress that I made with this intenfor the wretch who would have betrayed me, tion was about three months ago, when we with so much reason and humanity to my weak- had a current report of the king of France's ness, that I doubt not of my perseverance. death. As I foresaw this would produce a His wife and he are my comforters, and I am new face of things in Europe, and many cu rious speculations in our British coffee-houses, pilchards, and by several other remarks infusI was very desirous to learn the thoughts of ed a general joy into his whole audience, our most eminent politicians on that occasion. I afterwards entered a by-coffee-house, that That I might begin as near the fountain- stood at the upper end of a narrow lane, where head as possible, I first of all called in at St. I met with a nonjuror, engaged very warmly James's, where I found the whole outward with a lace-man who was the great support of room in a buzz of politics. The speculations a neighbouring conventicle. The matter in were but very indifferent towards the door, but grew finer as you advanced to the upper end of the room, and were so very much improved by a knot of theorists, who sat in the inner room, within the steams of the coffeepot, that I there heard the whole Spanish monarchy disposed of, and all the line of Bourbon provided for in less than a quarter of an hour. debate was, whether the late French king was most like Augustus Cæsar or Nero. The controversy was carried on with great heat on both sides; and as each of them looked upon me very frequently during the course of their debate, I was under some apprehension that they would appeal to me, and therefore laid down my penny at the bar, and made the best of my way to Cheapside. I afterwards called in at Giles's, where I I here gazed upon the signs for some time saw a board of French gentlemen sitting upon before I found one to my purpose. The first the life and death of their grand monarque. object I met in the coffee-room was a person Those among them who had espoused the whig who expressed a great grief for the death of interest, very positively affirmed, that he de- the French king: but, upon explaining himself, parted this life about a week since, and there- I found his sorrow did not arise from the loss fore proceeded without any further delay to of the monarch, but for his having sold out of the release of their friends in the galleys, and the bank about three days before he heard the to their own re-establishment; but, finding they could not agree among themselves, I proceeded on my intended progress. Upon my arrival at Jenny Man's I saw an alerte young fellow that cocked his hat upon a friend of his who entered just at the same time with myself, and accosted him after the following manner: Well, Jack, the old prig is dead at last. Sharp's the word. Now or never, boy. Up to the walls of Paris directly.' With several other deep reflections of the same nature. news of it. Upon which a haberdasher, who was the oracle of the coffee-house, and had his circle of admirers about him, called several to witness that he had declared his opinion above a week before, that the French king was certainly dead; to which he added, that, considering the late advices we have received from France, it was impossible that it could be otherwise. As he was laying these together, and dictating to his bearers with great authority, there came in a gentleman from Garraway's who told us that there were several letters I met with very little variation in the poli- from France just come in, with advice that the tics between Charing-cross and Covent-gar- king was in good health, and was gone out aden. And upon my going into Will's, I found hunting the very morning the post came their discourse was gone off from the death of away: upon which the haberdasher stole off the French king to that of monsieur Boileau, his hat that hung upon a wooden peg by him, Racine, Corneille, and several other poets, and retired to his shop with great confusion. whom they regretted on this occasion, as per- This intelligence put a stop to my travels, sons who would have obliged the world with which I had prosecuted with so much satisfacvery noble clegies on the death of so great a tion; not being a little pleased to hear so maprince, and so eminent a patron of learning. ny different opinions upon so great an event, At a coffee-house near the Temple, I found and to observe how naturally upon such a a couple of young gentlemen engaged very piece of news every one is apt to consider it smartly in a dispute on the succession to the with regard to his particular interest and adSpanish monarchy. One of them seemed to vantage. have been retained as advocate for the duke of No. 404.] Friday, June 13, 1712. L. Anjou, the other for his imperial majesty. They were both for regulating the title to that) kingdom by the statute laws of England; but Non omnia possumus omnes.-Virg. Ecl. viii. 63. finding them going out of my depth, I passed With different talents form'd, we variously excel. forward to St. Paul's church-yard, where I listened with great attention to a learned man, NATURE does nothing in vain: the Creator who gave the company an account of the de-of the universe has appointed every thing to a plorable state of France during the minority certain use and purpose, and determined it to of the deceased king. a setled course and sphere of action, from I then turned on my right hand into Fish-which if it in the least deviates, it becomes unstreet, where the chief politician of that quar-fit to answer those ends for which it was deter, upon hearing the news, (after having ta-signed. In like manner it is in the disposiken a pipe of tobacco, and ruminated for some tions of society, the civil economy is formed time) If,' says he, the king of France is cer-in a chain, as well as the natural: and in eithtainly dead, we shall have plenty of mackareler case the breach but of one link puts the this season: our fishery will not be disturbed whole in some disorder. It is, I think, pretty by privateers, as it has been for these ten plain, that most of the absurdity and ridicule years past.' He afterwards considered how we meet with in the world, is generally owing the death of this great man would affect our to the impertinent affectation of excelling in characters men are not fit for, and for which ing a foundation upon a rock; every thing nature never designed them. disposes itself into order as it were of course, Every man has one or more qualities which and the whole work is half done as soon as may make him useful both to himself and undertaken. Cicero's genius inclined him to others, Nature never fails of pointing them oratory, Virgil's to follow the train of the Muout; and while the infant continues under her ses; they piously obeyed the admonition, and guardianship, she brings him on in his way, and were rewarded. Had Virgil attended the bar, then offers herself as a guide in what remains his modest and ingenious virtue would surely of the journey; if he proceeds in that course have made but a very indifferent figure; and he can hardly miscarry. Nature makes good Tully's declamatory inclination would have her engagements: for, as she never pro- been as useless in poetry. Nature, if left to mises what she is not able to perform, so herself, leads us on in the best course, but will she never fails of performing what she promi- do nothing by compulsion and constraint; and ses. But the misfortune is, men despise what if we are not always satisfied to go her way, they may be masters of, and affect what they we are always the greatest sufferers by it, are not fit for; they reckon themselves alWherever nature designs a production, she ready possessed of what their genius inclined always disposes seeds proper for it, which are them to, and so bend all their ambition to ex-as absolutely necessary to the formation of any cel in what is out of their reach. Thus they moral or intellectual excellence, as they are to destroy the use of their natural talents, in the the being and growth of plants; and I know same manner as covetous men do their quiet not by what fate and folly it is, that men are and repose: they can enjoy no satisfaction in taught not to reckon him equally absurd that what they have, because of the absurd incli-will write verses in spite of Nature, with that nation they are possessed with for what they gardener that should undertake to raise a jonhave not. quil or tulip without the help of their respect ive seeds. beauty, and Iras wit: each neglects her own excellence, and is ambitious of the other's character; Iras would be thought to have as much beauty as Cælia, and Cælia as much wit as Iras. Cleanthes has good sense, a great memory, and a constitution capable of the closest ap- As there is no good or bad quality that does plication. In a word, there was no profession not affect both sexes, so it is not to be imagined in which Cleanthes might not have made a but the fair-sex must have suffered by an af very good figure; but this won't satisfy him; fectation of this nature, at least as much as he takes up an unaccountable fondness for the the other. The ill effect of it is in none so character of a fine gentleman; all his thoughts conspicuous as in the two opposite characters are bent upon this; instead of attending a dis-of Calia and Iras; Celia has all the charms section, frequenting the courts of justice, or of person, together with an abundant sweetstudying the fathers, Cleanthes reads plays, ness of nature, but wants wit, and has a very dances, dresses, and spends his time in draw-ill voice; Iras is ugly and ungenteel, but has ing-rooms; instead of being a good lawyer, wit and good sense. If Calia would be silent, divine, or physician, Cleanthes is a downright her beholders would adore ber; if Iras would coxcomb, and will remain to all that know him talk, her hearers would admire her; but Cæ. a contemptible example of talents inisapplied. lia's tongue runs incessantly, while Iras gives It is to this affectation the world owes its whole herself silent airs and soft languors, so that it race of coxcombs. Nature in her whole drama is difficult to persuade oneself that Cælia bas never drew such a part; she has sometimes nade a fool, but a coxcomb is always of a man's own making, by applying his talents otherwise than Nature designed, who ever bears a high resentment for being put out of her course, and never fails of taking her re- The great misfortune of this affectation is, venge on those that do so. Opposing her ten- that men not only lose a good quality, but also dency in the application of a man's parts has contract a bad one. They not only are unfit the same success as declining from her course for what they were designed, but they assign in the production of vegetables, by the assist- themselves to what they are not fit for; and, ance of art and an hot bed. We may possibly instead of making a very good figure one way, extort an unwilling plant, or an untimely sa- make a very ridiculous one another. If Selad; but how weak, how tasteless and insipid! manthe would have been satisfied with her Just as insipid as the poetry of Valerio. Vale-natural complexion, she might still have been rio had an universal character, was genteel, celebrated by the name of the olive beauty; had learning, thought justly, spoke correctly; but Semanthe has taken up an affectation to it was believed there was nothing in which Va-white and red, and is now distinguished by lerio did not excel; and it was so far true, that the character of the lady that paints so well. there was but one; Valerio had no genius for In a word, could the world be reformed to the poetry, yet he is resolved to be a poet; he obedience of that famed dictate, 'Follow Nawrites verses, and takes great pains to convince the town that Valerio is not that extraordinary person he was taken for. ture,' which the oracle of Delphos pronounced to Cicero, when he consulted what course of studies he should pursue, we should see almost If men would be content to graft upon Na- every man as eminent in his proper sphere as ture. and assist her operations, what mighty Tally was in his, and should in a very short effects might we expect! Tully would not stand time find impertinence and affectation banso much alone in oratory, Virgil in poetry, or ished from among the women, and coxcombs Cæsar in war. To build upon Nature, is lay-and false characters from among the men. VOL. II. 16 |