Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

make no question, you will come over to mine. You are not to imagine I find fault that she either possesses or takes delight in the exercises of those qualifications I just now mentioned; it is the immoderate fond

he has likewise the authority of scripture to justify him. The part of Abdiel, who was the only spirit that in this infinite host of angels preserved his allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us a noble moral of religious singularity. The zeal of the sera-ness she has to them that I lament, and phim breaks forth in a becoming warmth of sentiments and expressions, as the character which is given us of him denotes that generous scorn and intrepidity which attends heroic virtue. The author doubtless designed it as a pattern to those who live among mankind in their present state of degeneracy and corruption:

So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he;
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unseduc'd unterrify'd;
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal:
Nor number nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind,
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,
Long way thro' hostile scorn, which he sustain'd
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;
And with retorted scorn his hack he turn'd
On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd.
L.

No. 328.] Monday, March 17, 1711-12.

Nullum me a labore reclinat otium.

Hor. Epod. xvii. 24.
Day chases night, and night the day,
But no relief to me convey.

Duncombe.

that what is only designed for the innocent amusement and recreation of life is become the whole business and study of hers. The six months we are in town, (for the year is equally divided between that and the country,) from almost break of day till noon, the whole morning is laid out in practising with her several masters; and to make up the losses occasioned by her absence in summer, every day in the week their attendance is required; and, as they are all people eminent in their professions, their skill and time must be recompensed accordingly. So, how far these articles extend, I leave you to judge. Limning, one would think, is no expensive diversion; but, as she manages the matter, it is a very considerable addition to her disbursements; which you will easily believe, when you know she paints fans for all her female acquaintance, and draws all her relations' pictures, in miniature: the first must be mounted by nobody but Colmar, and the other set by nobody but Charles Mather. * What follows is still much worse than the former; for, as I told you, she is a great artist at her needle, it is incredible what 'MR. SPECTATOR,-As I believe that sums she expends in embroidery; for, bethis is the first complaint that ever was sides what is appropriated to her personal made to you of this nature, so you are the use as mantuas, petticoats, stomachers, first person I ever could prevail upon my handkerchiefs, purses, pin-cushions, and self to lay it before. When I tell you I working aprons, she keeps four French have a healthy, vigorous constitution, a protestants continually employed in mak plentiful estate, no inordinate desires, and ing divers pieces of superfluous furniture, am married to a virtuous lovely woman, as quilts, toilets, hangings for closets, beds, who neither wants wit nor good-nature, and window-curtains, easy chairs, and tabouby whom I have a numerous offspring to rets: nor have I any hopes of ever reclaimperpetuate my family, you will naturallying her from this extravagance, while she conclude me a happy man. But notwith- obstinately persists in thinking it a notable standing these promising appearances, I piece of good housewifery, because they am so far from it, that the prospect of being are made at home, and she has had some ruined and undone by a sort of extrava- share in the performance. There would gance, which of late years is in a less de- be no end of relating to you the particulars of gree crept into every fashionable family, the annual charge, in furnishing her storedeprives me of all the comforts of my life, room with a profusion of pickles and preand renders me the most anxious, misera- serves; for she is not contented with having ble man on earth. My wife, who was the every thing, unless it be done every way, only child and darling care of an indulgent in which she consults an hereditary book mother, employed her early years in learn- of receipts: for her female ancestors havė ing all those accomplishments we generally been always famed for good house-wifery, understand by good breeding and polite one of whom is made immortal by giving education. She sings, dances, plays on the her name to an eye-water, and two sorts of lute, and harpsichord, paints prettily, is a puddings. I cannot undertake to recites all perfect mistress of the French tongue, her medicinal preparations, as salves, sere and has made a considerable progress in cloths, powders, confects, cordials, ratafia, Italian. She is besides excellently skilled in persico, orange-flower, and cherry-brandy, all domestic sciences, as preserving, pick-together with innumerable sorts of simple ling, pastry, making wines of fruits of our waters. But there is nothing I lay so much own growth, embroidering, and needle- to my heart as that detestable catalogue of works of every kind. Hitherto, you will counterfeit wines, which derive their names be apt to think, there is very little cause of from the fruits, herbs, or trees, of whose complaint; but suspend your opinion till I have further explained myself, and then, I

1

* A well-known toyman in Fleet-street at 1.2 time

[ocr errors]

juices they are chiefly compounded. They readings, and the like, is what in all ages are loathsome to the taste, and pernicious persons extremely wise and learned have to the health; and as they seldom survive had in great veneration. For this reason I the year, and then are thrown away, under cannot but rejoice at the following epistle, a false pretence of frugality, I may affirm which lets us into the true author of the they stand me in more than if I entertained letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of all our visitors with the best burgundy and which I did myself the honour to publish champaign. Coffee, chocolate, and green in a former paper. I must confess I do not imperial, peco, and bohea teas, seem to be naturally affect critical learning; but findtrifles; but when the proper appurtenances | ing myself not so much regarded as I am of the tea-table are added, they swell the apt to flatter myself I may deserve from account higher than one would imagine. I some professed patrons of learning, I could cannot conclude without doing her justice not but do myself the justice to show I am in one article; where her frugality is so re-not a stranger to such erudition as they markable, I must not deny her the merit smile upon, if I were duly encouraged. of it; and that is in relation to her children, However, this is only to let the world see who are all confined, both boys and girls, what I could do: and shall not give my to one large room in the remotest part of reader any more of this kind, if he will forthe house, with bolts on the doors and bars give the ostentation I show at present. to the windows, under the care and tuition of an old woman, who had been dry nurse to her grandmother. This is their residence all the year round; and as they are never allowed to appear, she prudently thinks it needless to be at any expense in apparel or learning. Her eldest daughter to this day would have neither read nor wrote, if it had not been for the butler, who, being the son of a country attorney, has taught her such a hand as is generally used for engrossing bills in Chancery. By this time I have sufficiently tired your patience with my domestic grievances; which I hope you will agree could not well be contained in a narrower compass, when you consider what a paradox I undertook to maintain in the beginning of my epistle, and which manifestly appears to be but too melancholy a truth. And now I heartily wish the relation I have given of my misfortunes may be of use and benefit to the public. By the example I have set before them, the truly virtucus wives may learn to avoid those errors which have so unhappily misled mine, and which are visibly these three; First, in mistaking the proper objects of her esteem, and fixing her affections upon such things as are only the trappings and decorations of her sex: Secondly, in not distinguishing what becomes the different stages of life. And, lastly, the abuse and corruption of some excellent qualities, which, if circumscribed within just bounds, would have been the blessing and prosperity of her family; but by a vicious extreme, are like to be the bane and destruction of it."

T.

'March 13, 1711-12. 'SIR,-Upon reading your paper of yesterday, I took the pains to look out a copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your last letter: comparing them, I found they were the very same; and have, underwritten, sent you that part of it which you say was torn off. I hope you will insert it, that posterity may know it was Gabriel Bullock that made love ir that natural style of which you seem to be fond. But to let you see I have other manuscripts in the same way, I have sent you inclosed three copies, faithfully taken by my own hand from the originals, which were wrote by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good estate, to madam Mary, and an uncle of hers, a knight very well known by the most ancient gentry in that and several other counties of Great Britain. I have exactly followed the form and spelling. I have been credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous comedian, is the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullock's great-grandfather, on the body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark. As neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, take notice of it, I will not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italics. I am, sir, your daily reader.'

• To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.

'Lovely, and oh that I could write loving, Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray you let affection excuse presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy the sight of your sweet No. 328.*] Monday, March 17, 1711-12. countenance and comely body sometimes

[blocks in formation]

Lady she went to York.

'Madam Mary. Deare loving sweet lady, for they will put you in the nunnery; and i hope you are well. Do not go to london, heed not Mrs. Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to another place, and we will gate wed so with speed. mind what i write to you, for if there; and so let us gate wed, and we will they gate you to london they will keep you both go. yourself. so heed not what none of them so if you go to london, you rueing saith to you let us gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do any thing for you to my poore. i hope the devil will faile them all, for a hellish company there be, from there cursed trick and mischiefus ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me. 'I think to be at York the 24 day.' This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that belongs to dishforth.

living, which is ten yard land, and a house; | This is for madam mary norton disforth and there is never a yard land* in our field out is as well worth ten pounds a year as a thief's worth a halter; and all my brothers and sisters are provided for: besides, I have good household stuff, though I say it, both brass and pewter, linens and woollens and though my house be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well of this motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new clothes are made, and hay-harvest is in. I could, though I say it, have good matches in our town; but my mother God's peace be with her,) charged me upon her death-bed to marry a gentlewoman, one who had been well trained up in the sowing and cookery. I do not think but that if you and I can agree to marry, and lay our means together, I shall be made grand jury-man ere two or three years come about, and that will be a great credit to us. If I could have got a messenger for sixpence, I would have sent one on purpose, and some trifle or other for a token of my love: but I hope there is nothing lost for that neither. So, hoping you will take this letter in good part, and answer it with what care and speed you can, I rest and remain, yours, if my own,

'Mr. GABRIEL BULLOCK,
'now my father is dead.

"Swepston, Leicestershire.

'When the coal carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one of them myself.'+

'For sir William to go to london at west

minster remember a parlement.

'SIR,-William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that i am in troubel about a lady your nease; and i do desire that you will be my friend: for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would not let me go to you; but i desire that you will be our friends, for it is no dishonour neither for you nor she, for God did make us all. i wish that i might see you, for thay say that you are a good man; and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated two i believe. i might a had many a lady, but i con have none but her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our hearts. if you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you if God be willing and if you be pleased. so be not angterie till you know the trutes of things. 'I give my to me lady

'George Nelson.

and to Mr. Aysenby,
and to madam norton,
March the 19th, 1706.'

*"In some counties 20, in some 24, and in others 30 acres of land. Virguta Terra.”

† See No. 324, and note.

[ocr errors]

'Madam Mary, i hope you are well. i am soary that you went away from York. deare loving sweet lady, i writ to let you know that i do remain faithfull; and if can let me know where i can meet you, i will wed you, and i will do any thing to my poor; for you are a good woman, and will be a loving misteris. i am in trouble for you, so if you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and i will have none but you. so, sweet love, heed not what to say to me, and with speed come; heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid makes you believe ought.

'So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent 2 or 3 letters before.

'I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the night for me pains, and non new whear I was, and i did gat cold.

'But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will tell her soul is black within, her corkis stinks of hell. March 19th, 1706.'‡

No. 329.] Tuesday, March 18, 1711-12.
Ire tamen restat, Numo qua devenit et Ancus.
Hor. Ep. vi. Lib. 1. 27.
With Ancus, and with Numa, kings of Rome,
We must descend into the silent tomb.

My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me t'other night, that he had been reading my paper upon Westminster-abbey, in which, says he, there are a great many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same

In the original folio edition of the Spectator, the following letter is added to No. 330; it is given here as evidently relating to this paper, which, as already observed, was suppressed soon after its first publication. See 328.* 'March 18, 1711-12. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-The ostentation you showed yes terday [March 17] would have been pardonable, had

time, that he observed I had promised an- | honest man, and went in without further other paper upon the tombs, and that he ceremony. should be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had read history. I could not imagine how this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that he had been very busy all last summer upon Baker's Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last coming to town. Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next morning, that we might go together to the abbey.

We had not gone far, when Sir Roger popping out his head, called the coachman down from his box, and, upon presenting himself at the window, asked him if he smoked. As I was considering what this would end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good tobacconist's, and take in a roll of their best Virginia. Nothing material happened in the remaining part of our journey, till we were set down at the west end of the abbey.

As we went up the body of the church, the knight pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monuments, and cried out, ‘A brave man, I warrant him!' Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesly Shovel, he flung his hand that way, and cried, "Sir Cloudes

I found the knight under his butler's hands, who always shaves him. He was no sooner dressed, than he called for a glass of the widow Truby's water, which he told me he always drank before he went abroad. He recommended to me a dram of it at the same time, with so much heartily Shovel! a very gallant man.' As we ness, that I could not forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I found it very unpalatable; upon which the knight, observing that I had made several wry faces, told me that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it was the best thing in the world against the stone or gravel.

I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted me with the virtues of it sooner; but it was too late to complain, and I knew what he had done was out of good will. Sir Roger told me further, that he looked upon | it to be very good for a man whilst he staid in town, to keep off infection, and that he got together a quantity of it upon the first news of the sickness being at Dantzick: when of a sudden turning short to one of his servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call a hackney-coach, and take care it was an elderly man that drove it.

He then resumed the discourse upon Mrs. Truby's water, telling me that the widow Truby was one who did more good than all the doctors and apothecaries in the country; that she distilled every poppy that grew within five miles of her; that the distributed her water gratis among all sorts of people: to which the knight added that she had a very great jointure, and that the whole country would fain have it a match between him and her; and truly,' says Sir Roger, if I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have done better.

His discourse was broken off by his man's telling him he had called a coach. Upon our going to it, after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he asked the coachman if his axle-tree was good: upon the fellow's telling him he would warrant it, the knight turned to me, told me he looked like an

you provided better for the two extremities of your
paper, and placed in the one the letter R. in the other,
Nescio quid meditans nugarum et totus in illis.
A word to the wise. I am your most humble servant.
T. TRASH.

stood before Busby's tomb, the knight uttered himself again after the same manner: Dr. Busby: a great man: he whipped my grandfather; a very great man, I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead: a very great man!'

We were immediately conducted into the little chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger, planting himself at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to every thing he said, particularly to the account he gave us of the lord who had cut off the king of Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon his knees; and concluding them all to be great men, was conducted to the figure which represents that martyr to good housewifery who died by the prick of a needle. Upon our interpre ter's telling us that she was a maid of ho nour to queen Elizabeth, the knight was very inquisitive into her name and family; and, after having regarded her finger for some time, I wonder,' says he, that Sir Richard Baker has said nothing of her in his Chronicle,'

We were then conveyed to the two coronation chairs, where my old friend, after having heard that the stone underneath the most ancient of them, which was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's pillar, sat himself down in the chair, and, looking like the figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter, what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever been in Scotland? The fellow instead of returning him an an swer, told him, that he hoped his honour would pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger a little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our guide not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon recovered his good humour, and whispered in my ear, that if Will Wimble were with us and saw those two chairs, it would go hard but he would get a tobacco stopper out of one or t'other of them.

Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his According to the emendation of the above correspon- hand upon Edward the Third's sword, and, leaning upon the pummel of it, gave

dent, the reader is desired, in the paper of the 17th, to read R for T."

[ocr errors]

us the whole history of the Black Prince; concluding, that, in Sir Richard Baker's opinion, Edward the Third was one of the greatest princes that ever sat upon the English throne,

We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb: upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he was the first who touched for the evil: and afterwards Henry the Fourth's; upon which he shook his head, and told us there was fine reading in the casualties of that reign.

Our conductor then pointed to that monument where there is the figure of one of our English kings without a head; and upon giving us to know, that the head, which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away several years since: Some Whig, I'll warrant you,' says Sir Roger; 'you ought to lock up your kings better; they will carry off the body too, if you don't take care.

The glorious names of Henry the Fifth and queen Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our knight observed with some surprise, had a great many kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen in the abbey.

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the knight show such an honest passion for the glory of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the memory of its princes.

I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good old friend, which flows cut towards every one he converses with, made him very kind to our interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man: for which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, telling him, that he should be very glad to see him at his lodgings in Norfolk-buildings, and talk over these matters with him more at leisure.

L.

plentiful. I cannot make myself better un derstood, than by sending you a history of myself, which I shall desire you to insert in your paper, it being the only way I have of expressing my gratitude for the highest obligations imaginable.

I am the son of a merchant of the city of London, who, by many losses, was reduced from a very luxuriant trade and credit to very narrow circumstances, in comparison to that of his former abundance. This took away the vigour of his mind, and all manner of attention to a fortune which he now thought desperate; insomuch that he died without a will, having before buried my mother, in the midst of his other misfortunes. I was sixteen years of age when I lost my father; and an estate of 2001. a year came into my possession, without friend or guardian to instruct me in the management or enjoyment of it. The natural consequence of this was (though I wanted no director, and soon had fellows who found me out for a smart young gentleman, and led me into all the debaucheries of which I was capable,) that my companions and I could not well be supplied without running in debt, which I did very frankly, till I was arrested, and conveyed, with a guard strong enough for the most desperate assassin, to a bailiff's house, where I lay four days, surrounded with very merry, but not very agreeable company. As soon as I had extricated myself from that shameful confinement, I reflected upon it with so much horror, that I deserted all my old acquaintance, and took chambers in an inn of court, with a resolution to study the law with all possible application. I trifled away a whole year in looking over a thousand intricacies, without a friend to apply to in any case of doubt; so that I only lived there among men, as little children are sent to school before they are capable of improvement, only to be out of harm's way. In the midst of this state of

No. 330.] Wednesday, March 19, 1711-12. suspense, not knowing how to dispose of my

[blocks in formation]

To youth the greatest reverence is due.

THE following letters, written by two very considerate correspondents, both under twenty years of age, are very good arguments of the necessity of taking into consideration the many incidents which affect the education of youth.

'SIR-I have long expected that, in the course of your observations upon the several parts of human life, you would one time or other fall upon a subject, which, since you have not, I take the liberty to recommend to you. What I mean is, the patronage of young modest men to such as are able to countenance and introduce them into the world. For want of such assistances, a youth of merit languishes in obscurity or poverty when his circumstances are low, and runs into riot and excess when his fortunes are

self, I was sought for by a relation of mine, who, upon observing a good inclination in me, used me with great familiarity, and carried me to his seat in the country. When I came there, he introduced me to all the good company in the county; and the great obligation I have to him for this kind notice, and residence with him ever since, has made so strong an impression upon me, that he has an authority of a father over me, founded upon the love of a brother. I have a good study of books, a good stable of horses, always at my command; and though I am not now quite eighteen years of age, familiar converse on his part, and a strong inclination to exert myself on mine, have had an effect upon me that makes me acceptable wherever I go. Thus, Mr. Spectator, by this gentleman's favour and patronage, it is my own fault if I am not wiser and richer every day I live. I speak this, as well by subscribing the initial letters of my name to thank him, as to incite others to an imitation

« AnteriorContinuar »