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ceeded far in the middle path, when we arrived had joined them, and stood in a posture full of at the summit of the hill, where there imme-admiration at the harmony of his words. diately appeared to us two figures, which ex- Lastly, at the very brink of the hill, I saw tremely engaged my attention: the one was a Boccalini sending despatches to the world beyoung nymph in the prime of her youth and low of what happened upon Parnassus; but beauty; she had wings on her shoulders and I perceived he did it without leave of the Mufeet, and was able to transport herself to the ses, and by stealth, and was unwilling to have most distant regions in the smallest space of them revised by Apollo. I could now, from time. She was continually varying her dress, this height and serene sky, behold the infinite sometimes into the most natural and becom- cares and anxieties with which mortals below ing habits in the world, and at others into the sought out their way through the maze of most wild and freakish garb that can be ima- life. I saw the path of Virtue lie straight begined. There stood by her a man full aged fore them, whilst Interest, or some malicious and of great gravity, who corrected her in- demon, still hurried them out of the way. I consistencies by showing them in his mirror, was at once touched with pleasure at my own and still flung her affected and unbecoming happiness, and compassion at the sight of ornaments down the mountain, which fell in their inextricable errors. Here the two conthe plain below, and were gathered up and tending passions rose so high, that they were wore with great satisfaction by those that in- inconsistent with the sweet repose I enjoyed; habited it. The name of this nymph was and, awaking with a sudden start, the only conFancy, the daughter of Liberty, the most solation I could admit of for my loss, was the beautiful of all the mountain nymphs: the hopes that his relation of my dreams will not other was Judgment, the offspring of Time, displease you. and the only child he acknowledged to be his.

Tuesday, October 21, 1712.

T.

Pudet me et miseret, qui harum mores cantabat mihi,
Monuisse frustra-
Ter. Heaut. Act ii. Sc. 3.

A youth, who sat upon a throne just between No. 515.] them, was their genuine offspring; his name was Wit, and his seat was composed of the works of the most celebrated authors. I could not but see with a secret joy, that, though I am ashamed and grieved, that I neglected his advice, the Greeks and Romans made the majority, who gave me the character of those creatures. yet our own countrymen were the next both

MR. SPECTATOR,

in number and dignity. I was now at liberty 'I AM obliged to you for printing the ac

to take a full prospect of that delightful region. I was inspired with new vigour and turbed a sober congregation in the city of Loncount I lately sent you of a coquette who dislife, and saw every thing in nobler and more don. That intelligence ended at her taking a pleasing views than before: I breathed a pu- coach, and bidding the driver go where he rer æther in a sky which was a continued knew. I could not leave her so, but dogged azure, gilded with perpetual sunshine. The her, as hard as she drove, to Paul's churchtwo suminits of the mountain rose on each yard, where there was a stop of coaches atside, and formed in the midst a most delicious vale, the habitation of the Muses, and of This gave me an opportunity to hold up a tending company coming out of the cathedral. such as had composed works worthy of im- crown to her coachman, who gave me the sigmortality. Apollo was seated upon a throne nal that he would hurry on, and make no haste, of gold, and for a canopy an aged laurel spread its boughs and its shade over his head. chase. By his many kind blunders, driving as you know the way is when they favour a His bow and quiver lay at his feet. He held against other coaches, and slipping off some his harp in his hand, whilst the Muses round of his tackle. I could keep up with him, and about him celebrated with hymns his victory lodged my fine lady in the parish of St. Jame's. over the serpent Python, and sometimes sung As I guessed, when I first saw her at church, in softer notes the loves of Leucothoe and her business is to win hearts, and throw them Daphnis. Homer, Virgil, and Milton, were seated the next to them. Behind were a great have had the happiness, by tracing her through away, regard ng nothing but the triumph. I number of others; among whom I was surpris- all with whom I heard she was acquainted, to ed to see some in the habit of Laplanders, who find one who was intimate with a friend of notwithstanding the uncouthness of their dress, mine, and to be introduced to her notice. I had lately obtained a place on the mountain. have made so good a use of my time, as to I saw Pindar walking alone, no one daring to procure from that intimate of hers one of her accost him, until Cowley joined himself to him; letters, which she writ to her when in the counbut, growing weary of one who almost walked try. This epistle of her own may serve to him out of breath, he left him for Horace and alarm the world against her in ordinary life, Anacreon, with whom he seemed infinitely de- as mine, I hope, did those who shall bebold

lighted.

her at church The letter was written last

A little further I saw another group of winter to the lady who gave it me; and I doubt figures: I made up to them, and found it not but you will find it the soul of an happy was Socrates dictating to Xenophon, and self-loving dame, that takes all the admiration the spirit of Plato; but most of all, Mu-she can meet with, and returns none of it in sæus had the greatest audience about him. love to her admirers.

I was at too great a distance to hear what he said, or discover the faces of his hearers; only I thought I now perceived Virgil, who

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No. 516.]

with posed of in marriage so much to your appro-I, who do not care a farthing for him, had no bation as you tell me. You say you are afraid hard task to outvex him. I made Fanfly, only of me, for I shall laugh at your spouse's a very little encouragement, cut capers coupée, airs. I beg of you not to fear it, for I am too and then sink with all the air and tenderness nice a discerner to laugh at any, but whom imaginable. When he performed this, I obmost other people think fine fellows; so that served the gentleman you know of fall into the your dear may bring you hither as soon as his same way, and imitate as well as he could the horses are in case enough to appear in town, despised Fanfly. I cannot well give you, who and you will be very safe against any raillery are so grave a country lady, the idea of the you may apprehend from me; for I am sur-joy we have when we see a stubborn heart rounded with coxcombs of my own making, breaking, or a man of sense turning fool for who are all ridiculous in a manner wherein our sakes; but this happened to our friend, your good man, I presume, cannot exert him- and I expect his attendance whenever I go to self. As men who cannot raise their fortunes, church, to court, to the play, or the park. and are uneasy under the incapacity of shin- This is a sacrifice due to us women of genius, ing in courts, rail at ambition; so do awk-who have the eloquence of beauty, an easy ward and insipid women, who cannot warm mein. I mean by an easy mein, one which the hearts, and charm the eyes of men, rail at can be on occasion easily affected: for I must affectation: but she that has the joy of seeing tell you, dear Jenny, I hold one maxim, a man's heart leap into his eyes at beholding which is an uncommon one, to wit, That our her, is in no pain for want of esteem among greatest charms are owing to affectation. It the crew of that part of her own sex, who have is to that our arms can lodge so quietly just no spirit but that of envy, and no language but over our hips, and the fan can play without that of malice. I do not in this, I hope ex- any force or motion but just of the wrist. It press myself insensible of the merit of Leoda- is to affectation we owe the pensive attention cia, who lowers her beauty to all but her husband, and never spreads her charms but to gladden him who has a right to them; I say, I "To tell you the plain truth, I know no do honour to those who can be coquettes, and are not such; but I despise all who would be pleasure but in being admired, and have yet so, and, in despair of arriving at it themselves, never failed of attaining the approbation of hate and vilify all those who can. But be that the man whose regard I had a mind to. You as it will, in answer to your desire of knowing see all the men who make a figure in the world my history: one of my chief present pleasures (as wise a look as they are pleased to put upon is in country-dances; and in obedience to me, the matter) are moved by the same vanity as I as well as the pleasure of coming up to me am. What is there in ambition, but to make with a good grace, showing themselves in their other people's wills depend upon yours? This address to others in my presence, and the like indeed is not to be aimed at by one who has a opportunities, they are all proficients that way; genius no higher than to think of being a very and I had the happiness of being the other good housewife in a country gentleman's fanight where we made six couple, and every mily. The care of poultry and pigs are great woman's partner a professed lover of mine. enemies to the countenance; the vacant look The wildest imagination cannot form to it- of a fine lady is not to be preserved, if she self, on any occasion, higher delight than I admits any thing to take up her thoughts but acknowledge myself to have been in all that her own dear person. But I interrupt you evening. I chose out of my admirers a set of too long from your cares, and myself from men who must love me, and gave them part- my conquests.' ners of such of my own sex who most envied

me.

"My way is, when any man who is my admirer pretends to give himself airs of merit, as at this time a certain gentleman you know did, to mortify him by favouring in his presence the most insignificant creature I can find. At this ball I was led into the company by pretty Mr. Fanfly, who, you know, is the most obsequious, well-shaped, well-bred woman's man in the town. I at first entrance

of Deidamia at a tragedy, the scornful approbation of Dulcimara at a comedy, and the lowly aspect of Lanquicelsa at a sermon.

66

'I am, Madam,

"Your most humble servant."

'Give me leave, Mr. Spectator, to add her friend's answer to this epistle, who is a very discreet ingenious woman.

"DEAR GATTY,

"I take your railery in very good part, and am obliged to yon for the free air with which you speak of your own gaieties. But this is but a barren superficial pleasure; for, indeed, Gatty, we are made for man; and in serious sadness I must tell you, whether you yourself know it or no, all these gallantries tend to no other end but to be a wife and a mother as fast as you can.

declared him my partner if I danced at all; which put the whole assembly into a grin, as forming no terrors from such a rival. But we had not been long in the room before I overheard this meritorious gentleman above mentioned say, with an oath, There is no raillery in the thing, she certainly loves the puppy.' My gentleman, when we were dancing, took an occasion to be very soft in his ogling upon a lady he danced with, and whom he knew of No. 516.] Wednesday, October 22, 1712.

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all women I loved most to outshine. The contest began who could plague the other most.

T.

"I am, Madam, "Your most obedient servant."

Immortale odium, et nunquam sanabile vulgus:
Inde furor vulgo, quòd numina vicinorum

Odit uturque locus; quum solos credit habendos
Esse deos, quos ipse colat.-

Juv. Sat. xv. 34.

-A grudge, time out of mind, begun, And mutually bequeathed from sire to son: Religious spite and pious spleen bred first The quarrel which so long the bigots nurst: Each calls the other's god a senseless stock; His own divine.

Tate.

are exactly formed by nature for those ends to which heaven seems to have sent them amongst us. Both animated with a restless desire of glory, but pursue it by different means, and with different motives. To one it consists in an extensive undisputed empire over his subjects, to the other in their rational and voluntary obedience. Ones happiness is founded in their want of power, the others in their want Of all the monstrous passions and opinions of desire to oppose him. The one enjoys the which have crept into the world, there is none summit of fortune with the luxury of a Persian, so wonderful as that those who profess the the other with the moderation of a Spartan. common name of Christians, should pursue One is made to oppress, the other to relieve each other with rancour and hatred for differ- the oppressed. The one is satisfied with the ences in their way of following the example pomp and ostentation of power to prefer and of their Saviour. It seems so natural that debase his inferiors; the other delighted only all who pursue the steps of any leader should with the cause and foundation of it to cherish form themselves after his manner, that it is and protect them. To one therefore religion is impossible to account for effects so different but a convenient disguise, to the other a vigorfrom what we might expect from those who ous motive of action.

profess themselves followers of the highest 'For, without such ties of real and solid hopattern of meekness and charity, but by as-nour, there is no way of forming a monarch, cribing such effects to the ambition and cor- but after the Machiavelian scheme, by which a ruption of those who are so audacious, with prince must seem to have all virtues, but really souls full of fury, to serve at the altars of the be master of none; he is to be liberal, merciGod of Peace. ful, and just, only as they serve his interests; The massacres to which the church of Rome while, with the noble art of hypocrisy, empire has animated the ordinary people, are dread- would be to be extended, and new conquests ful instances of the truth of this observation; be made by new devices, by which prompt adand whoever reads the history of the Irish re-dress his creatures might insensibly give law in bellion, and the cruelties which ensued there- the business of life, by leading men in the enupon, will be sufficiently convinced to what tertainment of it.

rage poor ignorants may be worked up by Thus, when words and show are apt to pass those who profess holiness, and become in- for the substantial things they are only to excendiaries, and, under the dispensation of press, there would need no more to enslave a grace, promote evils abhorrent to nature. country but to adorn a court; for while every The subject and catastrophe, which deserve man's vanity makes him believe himself caso well to be remarked by the protestant pable of becoming luxury, enjoyments are a world, will, I doubt not, be considered by ready bait for sufferings, and the hopes of the reverend and learned prelate that preaches preferment invitations to servitude; which to-morrow before many of the descendants slavery would be coloured with all the agreeof those who perished on that lamentable day, ments, as they call it, imaginable. The noin a manner suitable to the occasion, and blest arts and artists, the finest pens and worthy his own great virtue and eloquence. most elegant minds, jointly employed to set I shall not dwell upon it any further, but it off with the various embellishments of sumponly transcribe out of a little tract, called the tuous entertainments, charming assemblies, Christian Hero,* published in 1701, what and polished discourses, and those apostate find there in honour of the renowned hero, Wil- abilities of men, the adored monarch might liam III. who rescued that nation from the profusely and skilfully encourage, while they repetition of the same disasters. His late flatter his virtue, and gild his vice at so high majesty, of glorious memory, and the most a rate, that he, without scorn of the one, or Christian king, are considered at the conclu- love of the other, would alternately and ocsion of that treatise as heads of the protestant casionally use both; so that his bounty should and Roman-catholic world in the following support him in his rapines, his mercy in his cruelties.

manner.

'There were not ever, before the entrance of the Christian name into the world, men who have maintained a more renowned carriage, than the two great rivals who possess the full fame of the present age, and will be the theme and examination of the future. They

'Nor is it to give things a more severe look, than is natural, to suppose such must be the consequences of a prince's having no other pursuit than that of his own glory; for if we consider an infant born into the world, and beholding itself the mightiest thing in it, itself the present admiration and future prospect of a *Steele, who was never insensible to his own faults or mean, according to the figure he is to make fawning people, who profess themselves great and follies, but who never had courage to correct them, is said to have written this little tract, while plunged in amongst them, what fancy would not be deall the dissipation of a soldier's life, to serve the pur- bauched to believe they were but what they poses of a private manual, and to have published it under professed themselves-his mere creatures; and the hope that it would compel him to something like an use them as such by purchasing with their imitation of the character he had drawn; unfortunately for him, it failed of its effect, and served but to make lives a boundless renown, which he, for want his errors more conspicuous. of a more just prospect, would place in the

number of his slaves, and the extent of his which depends not on event ever know disapterritories? Such undoubtedly would be the pointment. tragical effects of a prince's living with no reli- 'With the undoubted character of a glorious gion, which are not to be surpassed but by his captain, and (what he much more values than having a false one. the most splendid titles) that of a sincere and 'If anbition were spirited with zeal, what honest man, he is the hope and stay of Euwould follow, but that his people should be rope, an universal good; not to be engrossed converted into an army, whose swords can by us only, for distant potentates implore his make right in power, and solve controversy in friendship, and injured empires court his asbelief? And if men should be stiff-necked to sistance. He rules the world, not by an inthe doctrine of that visible church let them vasion of the people of the earth, but the adbe contented with an oar and a chain, in the dress of its princes; and, if that world should midst of stripes and anguish, to contemplate be again roused from the repose which his on Him whose yoke is easy and whose bur- prevailing arms had given it, why should den is light." we not hope that there is an Almighty, by

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With a tyranny begun on his own subjects, whose influence the terrible enemy that and indignation that others draw their breath thinks himself prepared for battle may find independent of his frown or smile, why should he is but ripe for destruction ?—and that there he not proceed to the seizure of the world? may be in the womb of time great incidents, And if nothing but the thirst of sway were the which may make the catastrophe of a prosmotive of his actions, why should treaties be perous life as unfortunate as the particular other than mere words, or solemn national scenes of it were successful ?-for there does compacts be any thing but an halt in the not want a skilful eye and resolute arm to obmarch of that army, who are never to lay serve and grasp the occasion. A prince, who down their arms until all men are reduced to fromthe necessity of hanging their lives on his wayward will; who might supinely, and at leisure, expiate his own sins by other men's sufferings, while he daily meditates new slaughter and conquests?

'For mere man, when giddy with unbridled power, is an insatiate idol, not to be appeased

-Fuit Illium et ingent

Gloria

Virg. En. ii. 325.
Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town.
T.

Heu pietas! heu prisca fides!

Dryden.

Virg. Æn. vi. 878.

Dryden.

Mirror of ancient faith!
Undaunted worth! Inviolable truth!

He

with myriads offered to his pride, which may No. 517.] Thursday, October 23, 1712. be puffed up by the adulation of a base and prostrate world into an opinion that he is something more than human, by being something less and, alas, what is there that mortal man will not believe of himself, when complimented with the attributes of God? He can then conceive thoughts of a power as om- WE last night received a piece of ill news nipresent as his. But, should there be such at our club, which very sensibly afflicted evea foe of mankind now upon earth, have our ry one of us. I question not but my reasins so far provoked Heaven, that we are left ders themselves will be troubled at the hearutterly naked to his fury? Is there no power, ing of it. To keep them no longer in susno leader, no genius, that can conduct and ani- pense, Sir Roger de Coverley is dead. mate us to our death, or to our defence? Yes; departed this life at his house in the counSir Anour great God never gave one to reign by his try, after a few weeks' sickness. permission, but he gave to another also to reign drew Freeport has a letter from one of his by his grace. correspondents in those parts, that informs All the circumstances of the illustrious life him the old man caught a cold at the counof our prince seem to have conspired to make ty-sessions, as he was very warmly promothim the check and bridle of tyranny; for his ing an address of his own penning, in which mind has been strengthened and confirmed by he succeeded according to his wishes. But one continued struggle, and Heaven has edu- this particular comes from a whig justice of cated him by adversity to a quick sense of the peace, who was always Sir Roger's enemy distresses and miseries of mankind, which he and antagonist. I have letters both from the was born to redress. In just scorn of the chaplain and captain Sentry, which mention trivial glories and light ostentations of pow-nothing of it, but are filled with many parer, that glorious instrument of Providence ticulars to the honour of the good old man. moves, like that, in a steady, calm, and si- I have likewise a letter from the butler, who lent course, independent either of applause took so much care of me last summer when or calumny; which renders him, if not in a I was at the knight's house. As my friend political, yet in a moral, a philosophic, an the butler mentions, in the simplicity of his heroic, and a Christian sense, and absolute heart, several circumstances the others have monarch: who, satisfied with this unchangea-passed over in silence, I shall give my reader ble, just, and ample glory, must needs turn a copy of his letter, without any alteration or all his regards from himself to the service diminution. of others; for he begins his enterprises with his own share in the success of them; for integrity bears in itself its reward, nor can that VOL. II.

HONOURED SIR,

'Knowing that you was my old master's

34

gone to your heart to have heard the moans
the dumb creature made on the day of my
master's death. He has never joyed himself
since; no more has any of us. It was the me-
lancholiest day for the poor people that ever
happened in Worcestershire. This being all
from,
Honoured Sir.
'Your most sorrowful servant,
EDWARD BISCUIT.'

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'P. S. My master desired, some weeks before he died, that a book, which comes up to you by the carrier, should be given to Sir Andrew Freeport in his name.'

good friend, I could not forbear sending you those whom my master loved, and shows great the melancholy news of his death, which has kindness to the old house-dog, that you know afflicted the whole country, as well as his poor my poor master was so fond of. It would have servants, who loved him, I may say, better than we did our lives. I am afraid he caught his death the last county-sessions, where he would go to see justice done to a poor widow woman, and her fatherless children, that had been wronged by a neighbouring gentleman; for you know, sir, my good master was always the poor man's friend. Upon his coming home, the first complaint he made was, that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not being able to touch a sirloin, which was served up according to custom; and you know he used to take great delight in it. From that time forward he grew worse and worse, but still hept a good heart to the last. Indeed we were once in great hope This letter, notwithstanding the poor butler's of his recovery, upon a kind message that was sent him from the widow lady whom he had manner of writing it, gave us such an idea of made love to the forty last years of his life; our good old friend, that upon the reading of but this only proved a lightning before death. it there was not a dry eye in the club. Sir He has bequeathed to this lady, as a token of Andrew, opening the book, found it to be a his love, a great pearl necklace, and a couple collection of acts of parliament. There was of silver bracelets set with jewels, which be-in particular the Act of Uniformity, with some longed to my good old lady his mother. He passages in it marked by Sir Roger's own hand. has bequeathed the fine white gelding that he Sir Andrew found that they related to two or used to ride a hunting upon to his chaplain, three points which he had disputed with Sir because he thought he would be kind to him; Roger the last time he appeared at the club. and has left you all his books. He has, moreSir Andrew, who would have been merry at over, bequeathed to the chaplain a very pretty such an incident on another occasion, at the tenement with good lands about it. It being sight of the old man's writing burst into tears, a very cold day when he made his will, he left and put the book in his pocket. Captain Senfor mourning to every man in the parish, a try informs me that the knight has left rings great frieze-coat, and to every woman a black and mourning for every one in the club. 0. riding-hood. It was a moving sight to see him

Friday, October 24, 1712.

Miserum est alienæ incumbere famæ,
Ne collapsa ruant subductis acta columnis.
Juv. Sat. viii. 76.

"Tis poor relying on another's fame;
For, take the pillars but away, and all
The superstructure must in ruins fall.-Stepney.

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MR. SPECTATOR,

take leave of his poor servants, commending No. 518.] us all for our fidelity, whilst we were not able to speak a word for weeping. As we most of us are grown gray-headed in our dear master's service, he has left us pensions and legacies, which we may live very comfortably upon the remaining part of our days. He has bequeathed a great deal more in charity, which is not yet come to my knowledge, and it is peremptorily said in the parish, that he has left money THIS being a day of business with me, I must to build a steeple to the church; for he was make the present entertainment like a treat heard to say some time ago, that, if he lived at an house-warming, out of such presents as two years longer, Coverly church should have have been sent me by my guests. The first dish a steeple to it. The chaplain tells every body which I serve up is a letter come fresh to my that he made a very good end, and never speaks hand. of him without tears. He was buried, according to his own directions, among the family of the Coverleys, on the left hand of his father 'IT is with inexpressible sorrow that I hear Sir Arthur. The coffin was carried by six of of the death of good Sir Roger, and do heartily his tenants, and the pall held up by six of the condole with you upon so melancholy an ocquorum. The whole parish followed the corpse casion. I think you ought to have blackened with heavy hearts and in their mourning suits; the edges of a paper which brought us se ill the men in frieze, and the women in riding- news, and to have had it stamped likewise in hoods. Captain Sentry, my master's nephew, black. It is expected of you that you should has taken possession of the Hall-house, and write his epitaph, and, if possible, fill his place the whole estate. When my old master saw in the club with as worthy and diverting a him, a little before his death, he shook him by member. I question not but you will receive the hand, and wished him joy of the estate many recommendations from the public of which was falling to him, desiring him only to such as will appear candidates for that post. make a good nse of it, and to pay the several Since I am talking of death, and have menlegacies, and the gifts of charity, which he told tioned an epitaph, I must tell you, sir, that I him he had left as quit-rents upon the estate. have made a discovery of a church-yard in which The captain truly seems a courteous man, I believe you might spend an afternoon with though he says but little. He makes much of great pleasure to yourself and to the public.

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