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retirement from the world, accompanied with
II. religious meditation. When a man thinks of “ What though, in solemn silence, all any thing in the darkness of the night, what
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ?
What though nor real voice nor sound ever deep impressions it may make in his
Amid their radiant orbs be found ? mind, they are apt to vanish as soon as the In reason's ear they all rejoice, day breaks about him. The light and noise of And utter forth a glorious voice, the day, which are perpetually soliciting his
For ever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine." senses, and calling off his attention, wear out of his mind the thoughts that imprinted themselves in it, with so much strength, during the
the No. 466.] Monday, August 25, 1712. silence and darkness of the night. A man - Vera incessu patuit dea.- Virg. Æn. i. 409. finds the same difference as to himself in a crowd and in a solitude: the mind is stunned
| And by her graceful walk the qneen of love is known.
Dryden. and dazzled amidst that variety of objects which press upon her in a great city. She When Æneas, the hero of Virgil, is lost in cannot apply herself to the consideration of the wood, and a perfect stranger in the place those things which are of the utmost concern on which he is landed, he is accosted by a lady to her. The cares or pleasures of the world in a habit for the chase. She inquires of him, strike in with every thought, and a multitude whether he has seen pass by that way any of vicious examples give a kind of justifica. young woman dressed as she was ? whether tion to our folly. In our retirements, every she were following the sport in the wood, or thing disposes us to be serious. In courts and any other way employed, according to the cities we are entertained with the works of custom of huntresses ? The hero ar.swers with men; in the country with those of God. One the respect due to the beautiful appearance is the province of art. the other of nature. she made ; tells her, he saw no such person as Faith and devotion naturally grow in the mind she inquired for; but intimates that he knows of every reasonable man, who sees the im- her to be one of the deities, and desires she pressions of divine power and wisdom in eve-would conduct a stranger. Her form, from ry object on which he casts his eye. The Su- her first appearance, manifested she was more preme Being has made the best arguments for than mortal; but, though she was certainly a his own existence, in the formation of the goddess, the poet does not make her known to heavens and the earth; and these are argu- be the goddess of beauty till she moved, All ments which a man of sense cannot forbear the charms of an agreeable person are then in attending to, who is out of the noise and hurry their highest exertion, every limb and feature of human affairs. Aristotle says, that should appears with its respective grace, It is from a man live under ground, and there converse this observation that I cannot help being so with the works of art and mechanism, and passionate an admirer as I am of good danshould afterward be brought up into the open cing. As all art is an imitation of nature, this day, and see the several glories of the heaven is an imitation of nature in its highest exceland earth, he would immediately pronounce lence, and at a time when she is most agreeathem the works of such a being as we define ble. The business of dancing is to display God to be. The psalmist has very beatiful beauty; and for that reason all distortions and strokes of poetry to this purpose, in that ex. mimickries, as such, are what raise aversion alted strain : • The heavens declare the glory instead of pleasure ; but things that are in of God; and the firmament showeth his handy themselves excellent, are ever attended with work. One day telleth another; and one night imposture and false imitation. Thus, as in certifieth another. There is neither speech nor poetry there are labouring fools who write anlanguage ; but their voices are heard among agrams and acrosticks, there are pretenders in them. Their sound is gone out into all lands ; dancing, who think merely to do what others and their words into the ends of the world.' cannot, is to excel. Such creatures should be As such a bold and sublime manner of think- rewarded like him who has acquired a knack ing furnishes very noble matter for an ode, the of throwing a grain of corn through the eye of reader may see it wrought into the following a needle, with a bushel to keep his hand in Ode.
use. The dancers on our stage are very faulty in this kind ; and what they mean by writhing
themselves into such postures, as it would be * The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky,
a pain for any of the spectators to stand in, And spangled heavens, a shining fi
and yet hope to please those spectators, is unTheir great Original proclaim:
intelligible. Mr. Prince has a genius, if he Th' unwearied sun, from day to day,
were encouraged would prompt him to better Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land
things. In all the dances he invents, you see The work of an almighty hand.
he keeps close to the character he represents.
He does not hope to please by making his perII.
formers, move in a manner in which no one “ Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
else ever did but by motions proper to the And nightly to the list'ning earth
characters be represents. He gives to clowns Repeats the story of her birth:
and lubbards clumsy graces; that is, he makes Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
them practise what they would think graces ; And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll,
and I have seen dances of his, which might And spread the truth from pole to pole.
give hints that would be useful to a comic wri. tor. These performances have pleased thespant insipidly gay, and wantonly forward, taste of such as have not reflection enough, whom you hehold among dancers, that carto know their excellence, because they are in riage is more to he attributed to the perverse nature ; and the distorted motions of others genius of the performers, than imputed to the have offended those who could not form rea- art itself. For my part, my child has danced sons to themselves for their displeasure, from herself into my esteem ; and I have as great their being a contradiction to nature.
lan honour for her as ever I had for her moWhen one considers the inexpressible ad- ther, from whom she derived those latent good vantage there is in arriving at some excellence qualities which appeared in her countenance in this art, it is monstrous to behold it so much when she was dancing; for my girl, though I neglected. The following letter has in it some say it myself, showed in one quarter of an thing very natural on this subject.
hour the innate principles of a modest virgin,
a tender wife, a generous friend, a kind mo'MR. SPECTATOR,
ther, and an indulgent mistress. I'll strain *I am a widower with but one daughter: hard but I will purchase for her an husband she was by nature much inclined to be a romp ; suitable to her merit. I am your convert in and I had no way of educating her, but com- the admiration of what I thought you jested manding a young woman, whom I entertained when you recoinmended ; and if you please to to take care of her, to be very watchful in her be at my house on Thursday ext. I make a care and attendance about her. I am a man ball for my daughter, and you shall see her of business, and obliged to be much abroad dance, or, if you will do her that honour. The neighbours have told me, that in my ab- dance with her. sence our maid has let in the spruce servants
'I am, Sir, in the neighbourhood to junketings, while my
* Your humble servant, . girl played and romped even in the street. To
PHILIPATER." tell you the plain truth, I catched her once, at eleven years old, at chuck-farthing among the I have some time ago spoken of a treatise boys. This put me upon new thoughts about my written by Mr. Weaver on this subject, which child, and I determined to place her at a board is now, I understand, ready to be published. ing-school ; and at the same time gave a very This work sets this matter in a very plain and discreet young gentlewoman her maintenance advantageous light; and I am convinced from at the same place and rate, to be her compa- it, that if the art was under proper regulanion. I took little notice of my girl from time tions, it would be a mechanic way of imto time, but saw her now and then in good planting insensibly, in minds not capable of health, out of harm's way, and was satisfied. receiving it so well by any other rules, a sense But, by much importunity, I was lately pre- of good-breeding and virtue. vailed with to go to one of their balls. I can! Were anyone to see Mariamne,* dance. not express to you the anxiety my silly heart, let him be never so sensual a brute, I defv was in, when I saw my romp, now fifteen, ta-him to entertain any thoughts but of the highken out: I never felt the pangs of a father up- est respect and esteem towards her. I was on me so strongly in my whole life before ; showed last week a picture in a lady's closet. and I could not have suffered more had my for which she had an hundred different dresses. whole fortune been at stake. My girl came that she could clap on round the face on puron with the most becoming modesty I had ever pose to demonstrate the force of habits in the seen, and casting a respectful eve, as if she diversity of the same countenance. Motion. feared me more than all the audience. I gave and change of posture and aspect, has an efa nod, which I think gave her all the spirit fect no less surprising on the person of Mashe assumed upon it: but she rose properly to riamne when she dances. that dignity of aspect. My romp, now the Chloe is extremely pretty, and as silly as most graceful person of her sex, assumed a she is pretty. This idiot has a very good ear, majesty which commanded the highest respect: and a most agreeable shape; but the folly of and when she turned to me, and saw my face the thing is such, that it smiles so impertiin rapture, she fell into the prettiest smile. nently, and affects to please so sillily, that and I saw in all her motions that she exulted while she dances you see the simpleton from in her father's satisfaction. You, Mr. Spec- head to foot. For you must know (as trivial tator, will, better than I can tell you, imagine as this art is thought to be), no one was ever to yourself all the different beauties and chan- a good dancer that had not a good under. ges of aspect in an accomplished young wo-standing. If this be a truth, I shall leave the man setting forth all her beauties with a de- reader to judge, from that maxim, what esteem sign to please no one so much as her father. they ought to have for such impertinents as My girl's lover can never know half the satis- fiy, hop, caper, tumble, twirl, turn round, faction that I did in her that day. I could not and jump over their heads; and, iu a word, possibly have imagined that so great improve-play a thousand pranks which many animals ment could have been wrought by an art that can do better than a man, instead of perI always held in itself ridiculous and contemp-forming to perfection what the human figure tible. There is. I am convinced. no method only is capable of performing. like this, to give young women a sense of It may perhaps appear odd, that I, who their own value and dignity; and I am sure set up for a mighty lover, at least of virtue, there can be done so expeditious to communicate that value to others. As for the flip
* Probably Mre. Bicknell.
should take so much pains to recommend we find in others. However, it is but just. what the soberer part of mankind look upon as well as pleasing, even for variety, someto be a trifle; but, under favour of the so- times to give the world a representation of berer part of mankind, I think they have not the bright side of human nature, as well as enough considered this matter, and for that the dark and gloomy. The desire of imitareason only disesteem it. I must also, in my tion may, perhaps, be a greater incentive to own justification, say, that I attempt to bring the practice of what is good, than the averinto the service of honour and virtue every sion we may conceive at what is blameable : thing in nature that can pretend to give ele- the one immediately directs you what you gant delight It may possibly be proved, that should do, whilst the other only shows what vice is in itself destructive of pleasure, and you should avoid; and I cannot at present virtue in itself conducive to it. If the delights do this with more satisfaction, than byen. of a free fortune were under proper regula-Ideavouring to do some justice to the charac, tions, this truth would not want much argu-ter of Manilius. ment to support it; but it would be obvious! It would far exceed my present desiga, to to every man, that there is a strict affinity give a particular description of Manilius between all things that are truly laudable and through all the parts of his excellent life. I beautiful, from the highest sentiment of the shall now only draw him in his retirement, soul to the most indifferent gesture of the and pass over in silence the various arts, the body.
T. courtly manners, and the undesigning honesty
by which he attained the honours he has en
joyed, and which now give a dignity and veNo. 467.] Tuesday, August 26, 1712.
peration to the ease he does enjoy. 'Tis here -Quodcunque meæ poterunt audero Camene,
that he looks back with pleasure on the waves Seu tibi par poterunt ; seu, quo I spex abnuit, ultra;
and billows through which he has steered to Sive minus; corteque canent minus: omne vovemus Hoc tibi: no tanto careat inili nomine charta.
so fair an haven: he is now intent upon the Tibull. ad. Messalom, Eleg. iv. Lib. 1. 24. practice of every virtue, which a great knowWhate'er my muse adventurous dares indite,
ledge and use of mankind has discovered to be Whether the niceners of thy piercing sight
the most useful to them. Thus in his private Applaud my lays, or censure what I write; To thee I sing, and hope to borrow fame,
domestic employments he is no less glorious By adding to my page Messala's name.
than in his public; for it is in reality a more
difficult task to be conspicuous in a sedentary The love of praise is a passion deeply fix-inactive life, than in one that is spent in hured in the mind of every extraordinary per
ry and business : persons engaged in the lat. son ; and those who are most afected with it, ter, like bodies violently agitated, from the seem most to partake of that particle of the di- I swiftness of their motion, have a brightness vinity which distinguishes mankind from the ladded to them, which often vanishes when inferior creation. The Supreme Being himself they are at rest : but if it then still remain. is most pleased with praise and thanksgiving :lit must be the seeds of intrinsic worth that the other part of our duty is but an acknow- thus shine out without any foreign aid or asledgment of our faults, whilst this is the im-sistance. mediate adoration of his perfections. 'Twas! His liberality in another might almost bear an excellent observation, that we then only the name of profusion : he seems to think it despise commendation when we cease to de-Jlaudable even in the excess, like that river serve it; and we have still extant two orations which most enriches when it overflows. But of Tully and Pliny, spoken to the greatest and Manilius has too perfect a taste of the pleabest princes of all the Roman emperors, who. Jense of doing
sure of doing good, ever to let it be out of his no doubt, heard with the greatest satisfaction, power; and for that reason he will have a what even the most disinterested persons, and just economy and a splendid frugality at home, at so large a distance of time, cannot read the fountain from whence those streams without admiration. Cæsar thought his life should flow which he disperses abroad. He consisted in the breath of praise, when he pro- looks with disdain on those who propose their fessed he had lived long enough for himself, death as the time when they are to begin their when he had for his glory. Others have sa-I munificence: he will both see and enjoy crificed themselves for a name which was not which he then does in the highest degree to begin till they were dead, giving away I what he bestows himself; he will be the living themselves to purchase a sound which was not executor of his own bounty, whilst they who to commence till they were out of hearing. have the happiness to be within his care and But by merit and superior excellencies, not patronage, at once pray for the continuation only to gain, but, whilst living, to enjoy alof his life and their own good fortune. No great and universal reputation, is the last de- one is out of the reach of his obligations ; he gree of happiness which we can hope for here. I knows how, by proper and becoming methods, Bad characters are dispersed abroad with pro- to raise himself to a level with those of the fusion; I hope for example's sake, and (as highest rank; and his good nature is a sufpunishments are designed by the civil power) |ficient warrant against the want of those who more for the deterring the innocent, than the are so unhappy as to be in the very lowest. chastising the guilty. The good are less fre-l one may say of him, as Pindar bids his quent, whether it be that there are indeed!
re indeed muse say of Theron, fewer originals of this kind to copy after, or that, through the malignity of our nature, we
Swear, that Theron euro has sworu,
No ons near him should be poor. rather delight in the ridicule than the virtues!
26 VOL. II.
Swear, ebat uone e'er bad such a graceful art, he was at the least pains to look for them. One
would think it was the dæmon of good thoughts With an unenvious hand, and an unbounded beart.
that discovered to him those treasures, wbich Never did Atticus succeed better in gaining he must have blinded others from seeing, they the universal love and esteem of all men; nor lay so directly in their way. Nothing can steer with more success between the extremes equal the pleasure that is taken in hearing him of two contending parties. 'Tis his peculiar speak, but the satisfaction one receives in the happiness that, while hc espouses neither with civility and attention he pays to the discourse an intemperate zeal, he is not only admired, of others. His looks are a silent commendabut, what is a more rare and unusual felicity, he tion of what is good and praise-worthy, and & is beloved and caressed by both; and I never secret reproof of what is licentious and extrayet saw any person, of whatever age or sex, vagant. He knows how to appear free and but was immediately struck with the merit of open without danger of intrusion, and to be Manilius. There are many who are accepta- cautious without seeming reserved. The gra. ble to some particular persons, whilst the restvity of his conversation is always enlivened of mankind look upon them with coldness and with his wit and humour, and the gaiety of it indifference ; but he is the first whose entire is tempered with something that is instructive, good fortune it is ever to please and to be as well as barely agreeable. Thus, with him pleased. wherever he comes to be admired, I you are sure not to be merry at the expense of and wherever he is absent to be lamented. your reason, nor serious with the loss of your His merit fares like the pictures of Raphael. good humour ; but by a happy mixture of his which are either seen with admiration by all, temper, they either go together, or perpetually or at least no one dare own he has no taste succeed each other. In fine, his whole beha. for a composition which has received so uni- viour is equally distant from constraint and versal an applause. Envy and malice find it negligence, and he commands your respect, against their interest to indulge slander and whilst he gains your heart. obloquy. 'Tis as hard for an enemy to de. There is in his whole carriage such an entract from, as for a friend to add to, his gaging softness, that one cannot persuade one's praise. An attempt upon his reputation is self he is ever actuated by those rougher pasa sure lessening of one's own ; and there is sions, which, wherever they find place, sel. but one way to injure him which is to refuse dom fail of showing themselves in the out. him his just commendations, and be obstinate-| ward demeanour of the persons they belong ly silent.
to : but his constitution is a just temperature It is below himn to catch the sight with any between indolence on one hand, and violence care of dress ; his outward garb is but the em- on the other. He is mild and gentle, whereblem of his mind. It is genteel, plain and un- ver his affairs will give him leave to follow affected; he knows that gold and embroidery his own inclinations ; but yet never failing can add nothing to the opinion which all have to exert himself with vigour and resolution of his merit, and that he gives a lustre to the in the service of his prince, his country, or his plainest dress, whilst 'tis impossible the richest friend
2. should communicate any to him. He is still the principal figure in the room. He first en No 468.) Wednesday, August 27 1712. gages your eye, as if there were some point of light which shone stronger upon him than on Erat homoingeniosus, acutus acer, et qui plurimum et sa
lis, haberet et sellis, nec candoris minus. Plin. Epist. any other person.
He puts me in mind of a story of the famous He was nn ingenious, pleasant fellow, and one who had Bussy d'Amboise, who, at an assemby at court,
Ta great deal of wit and satire, with an equal share of
good-humour. where every one appeared with the utmost magnificence, relying upon his own superior beha- My paper is, in a kind, a letter of news, but viour, instead of adorning himself like the rest.it regards rather what passes in the world of put on that day a plain suit of clothes, and conversation than that of business. I am very dressed all his servants in the most costly gay sorry that I have at present a circumstance behabits he could procure. The event was, that fore me, which is of very great iinportance to the eyes of the whole court were fixed upon all who have a relish for gaiety, wit, mirth, or him all the rest looked like his attendants, humour; I mean the death of poor Dick Eastwhile he alone had the air of a person of quali.court. I have been obliged to him for so many ty and distinction.
hours of jollity, that it is but a small recomLike Aristiprus, whatever shape or condition pense, though all I can give him, to pass a me he appears in, it still sits free and easy upon him; ment or two in sadness for the loss of so agreebut in some part of his character, 'tis true, be able a man. Poor Eastcourt! the last time I differs from him ; for as he is altogether equal saw him, we were plotting to show the town to the largeness of his present circumstances, lhis great capacity for acting in its full light, by the rectitude of his judgment has so far cor- introducing him as dictating to a set of young rected the inclinations of his ambition, that he plavers, in what manner to speak this sentence will not trouble himself with either the desires and utter t'other passion. He had so exquisite or pursuits of any thing beyond his present eu a discerning of what was defective in any objoyments.
ject before him, that in an instant he could A thousand obliging things flow from him show you the ridiculous side of what would upon every occasion; and they are always so pass for beautiful and just, even to men of no just and natural, that it is impossible to think lill judgment, before he had pointed at the
failure. He was no less skilful in the know he gave of persons and sentiments, he did not ledge of beauty; and, I dare say, there is no only hit the figure of their faces, and manner one who knew him well, but can repeat more of their gestures, but he would in his narration well-turned compliments as well as smart re- fall into their very way of thinking, and this partees of Mr. Eastcourt's, than of any other when he recounted passages wherein men of man in Eagland. This was easily to be ob- the best wits were concerned, as well as such served in his inimitable faculty of telling a wherein were represented men of the lowest story, in which he would throw in natural and rank of understanding. It is certainly as great unexpected incidents to inake his court to one an instance of self-love to a weakness, to be part, and rally the other part of the company. impatient of being mimicked, as any can be Then he would vary the usage he gave them, imagined. There was none but the vain, the according as he saw them bear kind or sharp formal, the proud, or those who were incapable language. He had the knack to raise up a of amending their faults, that dreaded him; to pensive temper, and mortify an impertinent, others he was in the bighest degree pleasing : ly gay one, with the most agreeable skill and I do not know any satisfaction of any in. imaginable. There are a thousand things different kind I ever tasted so much, as having which crowd into my memory, which make got over an impatience of my seeing myself in me too much concerned to tell on about him. the air he could put me when I have displeasHamlet holding up the skull which the grave- ed him. It is indeed to his exquisite talent digger threw to him, with an account tbat it this way, more than any philosophy I could was the head of the king's jester, falls into read on the subject, that my person is vevery pleasing reflections, and cries out to his ry little of my care, and it is indifferent to companion,
me what is said of my shape, my air, my * Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio : a manner, my speech, or my address. It is to fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy ; poor Eastcourt I chiefly owe that I am arrived be hath borne me on his back a thousand times: at the happiness of thinking nothing a dimiand now how abhorred in my imagination it nution to me, but what argues a depravity of is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those my will. lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. It has as much surprised me as any thing Where be your gibes now, your gambols, in nature, to have it frequently said, that he your songs, your flashes of merriment, that was not a good player: but that must be were wont to set the table on a roar ? Not owing to a partiality for former actors in one now to mock your own grioning ? quite the parts in which he succeeded them, and chop-fallen? Now get you to my lady's cham-l judging by comparison of what was liked be. ber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to fore, rather than by the nature, of the thing. this favour she must come. Make her laugh When a man of bis wit and smartness could at that.'
put on an utter absence of common sense in It is an insolence natural to the wealthy, to his face, as he did in the character of Bullaffix, as much as in them lies, the character of finch, in the Northern Lass, and an air of a man to his circumstances. Thus it is ordi- insipid cunning and vivacity in the character pary with them to praise faintly the good qua- of Pounce in The Tender Husband, it is folly lities of those below them, and say, it is very to dispute bis capacity and success, as he was extraordinaay in such a man as he is, or the an actor. like, when they are forced to acknowledge the Poor Eastcourt ! let the vain and proud be value of him whose lowness upbraids their ex. at rest, thou wilt no more disturb their adaltation. It is to this humour only, that it is miration of their dear selves ; and thou art no to be ascribed, that a quick wit in conversation, longer to drudge in raising the mirth of stua nice judgment upon any emergency that pids, who know nothing of thy merit, for thy could arise, and a most blameless inoffensive maintenance. behaviour, could not raise this man above being. It is natural for the generality of manreceived only upon the foot of contributing to kind to run into reflections upon our mormirth and diversion. But he was as easy under tality, when disturbers of the world are laid that condition, as a man of so excellent tal- at rest, but to take no notice when they who ents was capable ; apd since they would have can please and divert are polled from us. But it, that to divert was his business, he did it for my part, I cannot but think the loss of with all the seeming alacrity imaginable, such talents as the man of whom I am speakthough it stung him to the heart that it was ing was master of, a more melancholy inhis business. Men of sense, who could taste stance of mortality than the dissolution of perbis excellencies, were well satisfied to let him sons of never so high characters in the world, lead the way in conversation, and play after whose pretensions were that they were noisy his own manner ; but fools, who provoked him and mischievous. to mimickry, found he had the indignation to But I must grow more succinct, and as a let it be at their expense who called for it, and Spectator, give an account of this extraordihe would show the form of conceited heavy nary man, who, in his way, never had an equal fellows as jests to the company at their own in any age before him, or in that wherein he request in revenge for interrupting him from lived. I speak of him as a companion, and a being a companion to put on the character of man qualified for conversation. His fortune
exposed him to an obsequiousness towards the What was peculiarly excellent in this me-worst sort of company, but his excellent qualimorable companion, was, that in the accounts ties rendered him capable of making the bess