1 a How is it possible for those who are men | world. When Pompey was desired not to of honour in their persons, thus to become notorious liars in their party? If we look into the bottom of this matter, we may find, I think, three reasons for it, and at the same time discover the insufficiency of these reasons to justify so criminal a practice. set sail in a tempest that would hazard his life, It is necessary for me,' says he, 'to sail, but it is not necessary for me to live.' Every man should say to himself, with the same spirit, 'It is my duty to speak truth, though it is not my duty to be in an office. One of the fathers has carried this point so high as to declare he would not tell a lie, though he were sure to gain heaven by it. However extravagant such a protestation may appear, every one will own that a man may say, very reasonably, he would not tell a lie if he were to gain hell by it; or, if you have a mind to soften the expression, that he would not tell a lie to gain any temporal reward by it, when he should run the hazard of losing much more than it was possible for him to gain. In the first place, men are apt to think that the guilt of a lie, and consequently the punishment may be very much diminished, if not wholly worn out, by the multitudes of those who partake in it. Though the weight of a falsehood would be too much for one to bear, it grows light in their imaginations when it is shared among many. But in this case a man very much deceives himself; guilt, when it spreads through numbers, is not so properly divided as multiplied. Every one is criminal in proportion to the offence which he commits, not to the number of those who are his companions in it. Both the crime and the penalty lie as heavy upon every individual of an offending No. 508.] Monday, October 13, 1712. multitude, as they would upon any single person, had none shared with him in the O. Omnes autem et habentur et dicuntur tyranni, qui usa est. offence. In a word, the division of guilt is potestate sunt perpetua, in ea civitate que libertate like to that of matter: though it may be sepaCorn. Nepos in Milt. c. 8. rated into infinite portions, every portion For all those are accounted and denominated tyrants shall have the whole essence of matter in who exercise a perpetual power in that state, which fit, and consist of as many parts as the whole did before it was divided. was before free. THE following letters complain of what I have frequently observed with very much indignation; therefore I shall give them to the public in the words with which my correspondents, who suffer under the hardships mentioned in them, describe them. But in the second place, though multitudes, who join in a lie, cannot exempt themselves from the guilt, they may from the shame of it. The scandal of a lie is in a manner lost and annihilated, when diffused among several thousands; as a drop of the blackest tincture wears away and vanishes, when mixed and confused in a considerable body of water; the blot is still in it, but is not able to discover itself. This is certainly a very great motive to several party-offenders, who avoid crimes, not as they are prejudicial to their virtue, but to their reputation. It is enough to show the weakness of this reason, which palliates guilt without removing it, that every man who is influenced by it declares himself in effect an infamous hypocrite, prefers the appear-nical. But there is another sort of potenance of virtue to its reality, and is determined in his conduct neither by the dictates of his own conscience, the suggestions of true honour, nor the principles of religion. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-In former ages all pretensions to dominion have been supported and submitted to, either upon account of inheritance, conquest, or election; and all such persons, who have taken upon them any sovereignty over their fellowcreatures upon any other account, have been always called tyrants, not so much because they were guilty of any particular barbarities, as because every attempt to such a superiority was in its nature tyran tates, who may with greater propriety be called tyrants than those last mentioned, both as they assume a despotic dominion over those as free as themselves, and as The third and last great motive for men's they support it by acts of notable oppresjoining in a popular falsehood, or, as I have sion and injustice; and these are the rulers hitherto called it, a party-lie, notwith-in all clubs and meetings. In other governstanding they are convinced of it as such, s the doing good to a cause which every party may be supposed to look upon as the most meritorious. The unsoundness of this principle has been so often exposed, and is sc universally acknowledged, that a man nust be an utter stranger to the principles either of natural religion or Christianity, who suffers himself to be guided by it. If a man might promote the supposed good of his country by the blackest calumnies and falsehoods, our nation abounds more in patriots than any other of the Christian ments the punishments of some have been alleviated by the rewards of others: but what makes the reign of these potentates so particularly grievous is, that they are exquisite in punishing their subjects, at the same time that they have it not in their power to reward them. That the reader may the better comprehend the nature of these monarchs, as well as the miserable state of those that are their vassals, I shall give an account of the king of the company I am fallen into, whom, for his particular tyranny, I shall call Dionysius: as also of Now, the expulsion of these unjust rulers out of all societies, would gain a man as everlasting a reputation as either of the Brutus's got for their endeavours to extirpate tyranny from among the Romans. I confess myself to be in a conspiracy against the usurper of our club; and to show my reading, as well as my merciful disposition, shall allow him until the ides of March to dethrone himself. If he seems to affect empire until that time, and does not gradu upon our liberties, he shall find a dinner dressed which he has no hand in, and shall be treated with an order, magnificence, and luxury, as shall break his proud heart; at the same time that he shall be convinced in his stomach he was unfit for his post, and a more mild and skilful prince receive the acclamations of the people, and be set up in his room: but, as Milton says, -These thoughts Full counsel must mature. Peace is despair'd, 'I am, sir, your most obedient humble servant. the seeds that sprung up to this odd sort | train of each is equal in number, rather of empire. than give battle, the superiority is soon adUpon all meetings at taverns, it is ne-justed by a desertion from one of them. cessary some one of the company should take it upon him to get all things in such order and readiness, as may contribute as much as possible to the felicity of the convention; such as hastening the fire, getting a sufficient number of candles, tasting the wine with a judicious smack, fixing the supper, and being brisk for the despatch of it. Know, then, that Dionysius went through these offices with an air that seemed to express a satisfaction rather in serving the public that in gratifying any particular in-ally recede from the incursions he has made clination of his own. We thought him a person of an exquisite palate, and therefore by consent beseeched him to be always our proveditor; which post, after he had handsomely denied, he could do no otherwise than accept. At first he made no other use of his power than in recommending such and such things to the company, ever allowing these points to be disputable; insomuch that I have often carried the debate for partridge, when his majesty has given intimation of the high relish of duck, but at the same time has cheerfully submitted, and devoured his partridge with most gracious resignation. This submission on his side naturally produced the like on ours; of which he in a little time made such barbarous advantage, as in all those matters, which before seemed indifferent to him, to issue out certain edicts as uncontrollable and unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians. He is by turns outrageous, peevish, forward, and jovial. He thinks it our duty for the little offices, as proveditor, that in return all conversation is to be in-ble on the part of the family; but there is a terrupted or promoted by his inclination for or against the present humour of the company. We feel, at present, in the utmost extremity, the insolence of office; however, I, being naturally warm, ventured to oppose him in a dispute about a haunch of venison. I was altogether for roasting, but Dionysius declared himself for boiling with so much prowess and resolution, that the cook thought it necessary to consult his own safety, rather than the luxury of my proposition. With the same authority that he orders what we shall eat and drink, he also commands us where to do it: and we change our taverns according as he suspects any treasonable practices in the settling the bill by the master, or sees any bold rebellion in point of attendance by the waiters. Another reason for changing the seat of empire, I conceive to be the pride he takes in the promulgation of our slavery, though we pay our club for our entertainments, even in these palaces of our grand monarch. When he has a mind to take the air, a party of us are commanded out by way of life-guard, and we march under as great restrictions as they do. If we meet a neighbouring king, we give or keep the way, according as we are out-numbered or not; and if the 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a young woman at a gentleman's seat in the country, who is a particular friend of my father's, and came hither to pass away a month or two with his daughters. I have been entertained with the utmost civility by the whole family, and nothing has been omitted which can make my stay easy and agreea gentleman here, a visitant as I am, whose behaviour has given me great uneasiness. When I first arrived here, he used me with the utmost complaisance; but, forsooth, that was not with regard to my sex; and since he has no designs upon me, he does not know why he should distinguish me from a man in things indifferent. He is, you must know, one of those familiar coxcombs, who have observed some well-bred men with a good grace converse with women, and say no fine things, but yet treat them with that sort of respect which flows from the heart and the understanding, but is exerted in no professions or compliments. This puppy, to imitate this excellence, or avoid the contrary fault of being troublesome in complaisance, takes upon him to try his talent upon me, insomuch that he contradicts me up all occasions, and one day told me I lied If I had struck him with my bedkin, and behaved myself like a man, since he will not treat me as a woman, I had, I think, served him right. I wish, sir, you would please to give him some maxims of beha viour in these points, and resolve me if all maids are not in point of conversation to be treated by ail bachelors as their mistresses? If not so, are they not to be used as gently as their sisters? Is it sufferable that the fop of whom I complain should say that he would rather have such-a-one without a great, than me with the Indies? What right has any man to make suppositions of things not in his power, and then declare his will to the dislike of one that has never offended him? I assure you these are things worthy your consideration, and I hope we shall have your thoughts upon them. I am, though a woman justly offended, ready to forgive all this, because I have no remedy but leaving very agreeable company sooner than I desire. This also is a heinous aggravation of his offence, that he is inflicting banishment upon me. Your printing this letter may perhaps be an admonition to reform him; as soon as it appears I will write my name at the end of it, and lay it in his way; the making which just reprimand, I hope you will put in the power of, sir, your constant reader, and humble servant.' T. which is the true source of wealth and prosperity. I just now said, the man of thrift shows regularity in every thing; but you may, perhaps, laugh that Í take notice of such a particular as I am going to do, for an instance that this city is declining if their ancient economy is not restored. The thing which gives me this prospect, and so much offence, is the neglect of the Royal Exchange. I mean the edifice so called, and the walks appertaining thereunto. The Royal Exchange is a fabric that well deserves to be so called, as well to express that our monarch's highest glory and advantage consists in being the patron of trade, as that it is commodious for business, and an instance of the grandeur both of prince and people. But, alas! at present it hardly seems to be set apart for any such use or purpose. Instead of the assembly of honourable merchants, substantial tradesmen, and knowing masters of ships; the mumpers, the halt, the blind, the lame; and your venders of trash, apples, plums; your raggamuffins, rake-shames, and wenches, No. 509.] Tuesday, October 14, 1712. have justled the greater number of the former out of that place. Thus it is, espeHominis frugi et temperantis functus officium. Ocially on the evening change: so that what Ter. Heaut. Act ini. Sc. 3. with the din of squallings, oaths, and cries Discharging the part of a good economist. of beggars, men of the greatest consequence THE useful knowledge in the following in our city absent themselves from the letter shall have a place in my paper, place. This particular, by the way, is of though there is nothing in it which imme- evil consequence; for, if the 'Change be diately regards the polite or the learned no place for men of the highest credit to world; I say immediately, for upon reflec-frequent, it will not be a disgrace for those tion every man will find there is a remote of less abilities to be absent. I remember influence upon his own affairs, in the pros- the time when rascally company were kept perity or decay of the trading part of man-out, and the unlucky boys with toys and kind. My present correspondent, I believe, was never in print before; but what he says well deserves a general attention, though delivered in his own homely maxims, and a kind of proverbial simplicity; which sort of learning has raised more estates, than ever were, or will be, from attention to Virgil, Horace, Tully, Seneca, Plutarch, or any of the rest, whom, I dare say, this worthy citizen would hold to be indeed ingenious, but unprofitable writers. But to the letter. 'Mr. William Spectator. balls were whipped away by a beadle. I have seen this done indeed of late, but then it has been only to chase the lads from chuck, that the beadle might seize their copper. 'I must repeat the abomination, that the walnut-trade is carried on by old women within the walks, which makes the place impassable by reason of shells and trash, The benches around are so filthy, that no one can sit down, yet the beadles and officers have the impudence at Christmas to ask for their box, though they deserve the strappado. I do not think it impertinent to have mentioned this, because it bespeaks a neglect in the domestic care of the city, and the domestic is the truest picture of a man every where else. Broad-street, Oct. 10, 1712. 'SIR,-I accuse you of many discourses on the subject of money, which you have heretofore promised the public, but have not discharged yourself thereof. But, for- 'But I designed to speak on the busiasmuch as you seemed to depend upon ad-ness of money and advancement of gain. vice from others what to do in that point, have sat down to write you the needful upon that subject. But, before I enter thereupon, I shall take this opportunity to observe to you, that the thriving frugal man shows it in every part of his expense, dress, servants, and house; and I must, in the first place complain to you, as Spectator, that in these particulars there is at this time, throughout the city of London, a lamentable change from that simplicity of manners, The man proper for this, speaking in the general, is of a sedate, plain good understanding, not apt to go out of his way, but so behaving himself at home, that business may come to him. Sir William Turner, that valuable citizen, has left behind him a most excellent rule, and couched it in very few words, suited to the meanest capacity. He would say, "Keep your shop, and your shop will keep you." It must be confessed, that if a man of a great genius could add steadiness to his vivacities, or substitute slower men of fidelity to transact the methodical part of his affairs, such a one would outstrip the rest of the world; but business and trade are not to be managed by the same heads which write poetry, and make plans for the conduct of life in general. So though we are at this day beholden to the late witty and inventive duke of Buckingham for the whole trade and manufacture of glass, yet I suppose there is no one will aver, that, were his grace yet living, they would not rather deal with my diligent friend and neighbour, Mr. Gumley, for any goods to be prepared and delivered on such a day, than he would with that il-fresco at an inn (which he used) in Bishopslustrious mechanic above-mentioned. going from college to college to borrow, as they have done since the death of this worthy man. I say, Mr. Hobson kept a stable of forty good cattle, always ready and fit for travelling; but, when a man came for a horse, he was led into the stable, where there was great choice; but he obliged him to take the horse which stood next to the stable door; so that every customer was alike well served according to his chance, and every horse ridden with the same justice; from whence it became a proverb, when what ought to be your election was forced upon you, to say, "Hobson's choice." This memorable man stands drawn in gate-street, with a hundred pound bag under his arm, with this inscription upon the said bag: 'No, no, Mr. Spectator, you wits must not pretend to be rich; and it is possible the reason may be, in some measure, because "The fruitful mother of a hundred more."t you despise, or at least you do not value it enough to let it take up your chief atten"Whatever tradesman will try the extion; which a trader must do, or lose his periment, and begin the day after you pubcredit, which is to him what honour, relish this my discourse to treat his customers putation, fame, or glory, is to other sort of all alike, and all reasonably and honestly, I will ensure him the same success, I am sir, your loving friend, T. men. I shall not speak to the point of cash itself, until I see how you approve of these my maxims in general: but I think a speculation upon "many a little makes a mickle, a penny saved is a penny got, penny wise HEZEKIAH THRIFT.' and a pound foolish, it is need that makes No. 510.] Wednesday, October 15, 1712. the old wife trot," would be very useful to I shall conclude this discourse with an explanation of a proverb, which by vulgar error is taken and used when a man is reduced to an extremity, whereas the propriety of the maxim is to use it when you would say there is plenty, but you must make such a choice as not to hurt another who is to come after you. Mr. Tobias Hobson,* from whom we have the expression, was a very honourable man, for I shall ever call the man so who gets an estate honestly. Mr. Tobias Hobson was a carrier; and, being a man of great abilities and invention, and one that saw where there might good profit arise, though the duller men overlooked it, this ingenious man was the first in this island who let out hackney-horses. He lived in Cambridge; and, observing that the scholars, rid hard, his manner was to keep a large stable of horses, with boots, bridles, and whips, to furnish the gentlemen at once, without * Mr. Hobson was the carrier between London and Cambridge. At the latter place he erected a handsome stone conduit, and left sufficient land for its maintenance for ever. He died in the time of the plague, 1630, in the eighty-sixth year of his age. -Si sapis, Neque præterquam quas ipse amor molestias If you are wise, add not to the troubles which attend the passion of love, and bear patiently those which are inseparable from it. 'I WAS the other day driving in a hack through Gerrard-street, when my eye was immediately catched with the prettiest object imaginable-the face of a very fair girl, between thirteen and fourteen, fixed at the chin to a painted sash, and made part of the landscape. It seemed admirably done, and, upon throwing myself eagerly cut of the coach to look at it, it laughed, and flung from the window. This amiable figure dwelt upon me; and I was considering the vanity of the girl, and her pleasant coquetry in acting a picture until she was taken notice of, and raised the admiration of the beholders. This little circumstance made me run into reflections upon the force of beauty, and the wonderful influence the female sex has upon the other part of the species. Our hearts are seized with their enchantments, and there are few of us, but brutal men, who by that hardness lose the chief pleasure in them, can resist their insinuations, though never so much against our own interests and opinion. It is common with women to destroy the good effects a man's following his own way and inclina There is a scarce folio print, I believe, from this picture, engraved by Payne, with eight English verses beneath. tion might have upon his honour and for- | world, wishes to make a good figure with tune, by interposing their power over him his mistress, upon her upbraiding him with in matters wherein they cannot influence want of spirit, he alludes to enterprises him, but to his loss and disparagement. I which he cannot reveal but with the hazard do not know therefore a task so difficult of his life. When he is worked thus far, in human life, as to be proof against the with a little flattery of her opinion of his importunities of a woman a man loves. gallantry, and desire to know more of it out There is certainly no armour against tears, of her overflowing fondness to him, he brags sullen looks, or at best constrained fami- to her until his life is in her disposal. liarities, in her whom you usually meet with transport and alacrity. Sir Walter Raleigh was quoted in a letter (of a very ingenious correspondent of mine) upon this subject. That author, who had lived in courts, and camps, travelled through many countries, and seen many men under several climates, and of as various complex-senseless a thing it is to argue with one ions, speaks of our impotence to resist the wiles of women in very severe terms. His words are as follows: When a man is thus able to be vanquished by the charms of her he loves, the safest way is to determine what is proper to be done; but to avoid all expostulation with her before he executes what he has resolved. Women are ever too hard for us upon a treaty; and one must consider how whose looks and gestures are more prevalent with you, than your reasons and arguments can be with her. It is a most miserable slavery to submit to what you disapprove and give up a truth for no other reason, but that you had not fortitude to support you in asserting it. A man has enough to do to conquer his own unreasonvain, if he has those of another to gratify. able wishes and desires; but he does that in Let his pride be in his wife and family, let in such a manner as if he were proud of him give them all the conveniences of life them; but let it be his own innocent pride, and not their exorbitant desires which are What means did the devil find out, or what instruments did his own subtility present him as fittest and aptest to work his mischief by? Even the unquiet vanity of the woman; so as by Adam's hearkening to the voice of his wife, contrary to the express commandment of the living God, mankind by that her incantation became the subject of labour, sorrow, and death; the woman being given to man for a comforter and companion, but not for a counsellor. It is also to be noted by whom the woman was indulged by him. In this case all the little tempted: even by the most ugly and unworthy of all beasts, into whom the devil arts imaginable are used to soften a man's entered and persuaded. Secondly, What heart, and raise his passion above his unwas the motive of her disobedience? Even derstanding. But in all concessions of this kind, a man should consider whether the a desire to know what was most unfitting her knowledge; an affection which has present he makes flows from his own love, ever since remained in all the posterity of the latter, he is her slave? if from the foror the importunity of his beloved. If from her sex. Thirdly, what was it that moved the man to yield to her persuasions? Even mer, her friend. We laugh it off, and do to the same cause which hath moved all not weigh this subjection to women with that seriousness which so important a cirmen since to the like consent, namely, an unwillingness to grieve her, or make her sad, cumstance deserves. Why was courage lest she should pine, and be overcome with given to a man, if his wife's fears are to sorrow. But if Adam, in the state of per- you are no longer her guardian and profrustrate it? When this is once indulged, fection, and Solomon the Son of David, tector, as you were designed by nature; but, God's chosen servant, and himself a man in compliance to her weaknesses, you have endued with the greatest wisdom, did both disabled yourself from avoiding the misforof them disobey their Creator by the per- tunes into which they will lead you both, suasion, and for the love they bear to a woman, it is not so wonderful as lamentable, and you are to see the hour in which you that other men in succeeding ages have are to be reproached by herself for that been allured to so many inconvenient and very compliance to her. It is indeed the most difficult mastery over ourselves we wicked practices by the persuasion of their can possibly attain, to resist the grief of her wives, or other beloved darlings, who cover who charms us; but let the heart ake, be over and shadow many malicious purposes the anguish never so quick and painful, it with a counterfeit passion of dissimulating is what must be suffered and passed sorrow and unquietness.’ through, if you think to live like a gentleThe motions of the minds of lovers are man, or be conscious to yourself that you no where so well described as in the words are a man of honesty. The old argument, of skilful writers for the stage. The scene that you do not love me if you deny me between Fulvia and Curius, in the second this,' which first was used to obtain a trifle, act of Johnson's Catiline, is an excellent by habitual success will oblige the unhappicture of the power of a lady over her py man who gives way to it to resign the gallant. The wench plays with his affec- cause even of his country and his honour. tions; and as a man, of all places of the VOL. II. 35 T. |