If we look into the history of our own nation, knowledged you had not then a perfect history we shall find that the beard flourished in the of the whole club, you might very easily omit Saxon heptarchy, but was very much discou-one of the most notable species of it, the sweatraged under the Norman line. It shot out, ers, which may be reckoned a sort of dancinghowever, from time to time, in several reigns masters too. It is, it seems; the custom, for under different shapes. The last effort it made half a dozen, or more, of these well-disposed saseems to have been in queen Mary's days, as thevages, as soon as they have enclosed the person curious reader may find if he pleases to peruse upon whom they design the favour of a sweat, to the figures of Cardinal Pole and Bishop Gar-whip out their swords, and, holding them padiner: though, at the same time, I think it rallel to the horizon, they describe a sort of may be questioned, if zeal against popery has magic circle round about him with the points. not induced our protestant painters to extend As soon as this piece of conjuration is per the beards of these two persecutors beyond formed, and the patient without doubt already their natural dimensions, in order to make beginning to wax warm, to forward the operathem appear the more terrible. tion, that member of the circle towards whom he is so rude as to turn his back first, runs his sword directly into that part of the patient whereon school-boys are punished; and as it is very natural to imagine this will soon make I find but few beards worth taking notice of in the reign of King James the first. During the civil wars there appeared one, which makes too great a figure in story to be passed over in silence: I mean that of the re-him tack about to some other point, every gendoubted Hudibras, an account of which Butler has transmitted to posterity in the following lines: 'His tawny beard was th' equal grace In cut and dye so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile: tleman does himself the same justice as often as he receives the affront. After this jig has gone two or three times round, and the patient is thought to have sweat sufficiently, he is very handsomely rubbed down by some attendants, who carry with them instruments for that purpose, and so discharged. This relation I had from a friend of mine, who has lately been under this discipline. He tells me he had the The whisker continued for some time among honour to dance before the emperor himus after the expiration of beards; but this is self, not without the applause and acclamaa subject which. I shall not here enter upon, tions both of his imperial majesty and the having discussed it at large in a distinct trea- whole ring; though I dare say, neither I. tise, which I keep by me in manuscript, upon would have merited any reputation by his ac nor any of his acquaintance, ever dreamt he The nether orange mixt with grey.' the mustache. If my friend Sir Roger's project of introductivity. ing beards should take effect, I fear the luxury 'I can assure you, Mr. Spectator, I was very of the present age would make it a very ex-near being qualified to have given you a faithpensive fashion. There is no question but the ful and painful account of this walking bagnio, beaux would soon provide themselves with false if I may so call it, myself, Going the other ones of the lightest colours, and the most im-night along Fleet-street, and having, out of cumoderate lengths. A fair beard of the tapestry riosity, just entered into discourse with a wansize, which Sir Roger seems to approve, could dering female who was travelling the same way, not come under twenty guineas. The famous a couple of fellows advanced towardr us, drew golden beard of Esculapius would hardly be their swords, and cried out to each other, "A more valuable than one made in the extrava-sweat! a sweat!" Whereon, suspecting they gance of the fashion. were some of the ringleaders of the bagnio, I also drew my sword and demanded a parley; but finding none would be granted me, and perceiving others behind them filing off with great diligence to take me in flank, I began to sweat for fear of being forced to it: but very luckily betaking myself to a pair of heels, which I had good reason to believe would do me justice, I instantly got possession of a very snug corner in a neighbouring alley that lay in my rear; which post I maintained for above half an hour with great firmness and resolution, though not letting this success so far overcome me as to make me uumindful of the circumNaribus horum hominum- -Hor. Sat. iii. Lib. 1. 29. spection that was necessary to be observed up Besides, we are not certain that the ladies would not come into the mode, when they take the air on horseback. They already appear in hats and feathers, coats and periwigs: and I see no reason why we may not suppose that they would have their riding-beards on the same occasion. N. B. I may give the moral of this discoure in another paper. No. 332.] Friday, March 21, 1712. -Minos aptus acutis He cannot bear the raillery of the age. 4 DEAR SHORT FACE, X. Creech on my advancing again towards the street; by which prudence and good management I made a handsome and orderly retreat, having suffered 'IN your speculation of Wednesday last, you no other damage in this action than the loss of have given us some account of that worthy my baggage, and the dislocation of one of my society of brutes the Mohocks, wherein you shoe heels, which last I am just now informed have particularly specified the ingenious per- is in a fair way of recovery. These sweaters, formances of the lion-trippers, the dancing-by what I can learn by my friend, and by as masters, and the tumblers: but as you ac-near a view as I was able to take of them my 32 vocat in certamina divos.-Virg. He calls embattled deities to arms. self, seem to me to have at present but a rude No. 333.] Saturday, March 22, 1711-12. as well as WE are now entering upon the sixth book of Paradise Lost, in which the poet describes the battle of the angels; having raised his reader's expectation, and prepared him for it by several passages in the preceding books. I omitted quoting these passages in my observations ou the former books, having purposely reserved them for the opening of this, the subject of which gave occasion to them. The author's imagination was so inflamed with P. S. My friend will have me acquaint you, this great scene of action, that wherever he that though he would not willingly detract speaks of it, he rises, if possible, above himself. from the merit of that extraordinary strokes- Thus, where he mentions Satan in the begin man Mr. Sprightly, yet it is his real opinion, ning of his poem, 'Your very humble servant, JACK LIGHTFOOT.' that some of those fellows who are employed as rubbers to his new-fashioned bagnio, have struck as bold strokes as ever he did in his life. Him the almighty Power Hurl'd headlong flataing from th' ethereal sky, We have likewise several noble hints of it in infernal conference: 'I had sent this four-and-twenty hours sooner, if I had not had the misfortune of being in a great doubt about the orthography of the word bagnio. I consulted several diction- the aries, but found no relief: at last having recourse both to the bagnio in Newgate-street, and to that in Chancery-lane, and finding the original manuscripts upon the sign-posts of each to agree literally with my own spelling, I returned home full of satisfaction, in order to despatch this epistle.' • MR. SPECTATOR, As you have taken most of the circumstances of human life into your consideration, we the underwritten thought it not improper for us also to represent to you our condition. We are three ladies who live in the country, and the greatest improvement we make is by reading. We have taken a small journal of our lives, and find it extremely opposite to your last Tuesday's speculation. We rise by seven, and pass the beginning of each day in devotion, and looking into those affairs that fall within the occurrences of a retired life; in the afternoon we sometimes enjoy the good company of some friend or neighbour, or else work or read: at night we retire to our chambers, and take leave of each other for the whole night at ten o'clock. We take particular care never to be sick of a Sunday. Mr. Spectator. we are all very good maids, but ambitious of characters which we think more laudable, that of being very good wives. If any of your correspondents inquire for a spouse for an honest country gentleman, whose estate is not dipped, and wants a wife that can save half his revenue, and yet make a better figure than any of his neighbours of the same estate, with finer-bred women, you shall have further notice from. T. 'Sir, 'Your courteous readers, 'MARTHA BUSIE, O prince! O chief of many throned powers, There are several other very sublime images on the same subject in the first book, as also in the second: What when we fled amain, pursued and struck In short, the poet never mentions any thing second book: Thus Satan; and him thus the Anarch old, Made head against heaven's King, though overthrown Confusion worse confounded; and heaven's gates It required great pregnancy of invention, and strength of imagination, to fill this battle 'DEBORAH THRIFTY, with such circumstances as should raise and ALICE EARLY.' astonish the mind of the reader; and at thre same time an exactness of judgment, to avoid very much swells the idea, by Bringing up to every thing that might appear light or trivial. the reader's imagination all the woods that Those who look into Homer are surprised to grew upon it. There is further a greater beaufind his battles still rising one above another, ty in his singling out by names these three reand improving in horror to the conclusion of markable mountains so well known to the the Iliad. Milton's fight of angels is wrought Greeks. This last is such a beauty, as the up with the same beauty. It is ushered in scene of Milton's war could not possibly furwith such signs of wrath as are suitable to nish him with. Claudian, in his fragment Omnipotence incensed. The first engagement upon the giant's war, has given full scope to is carried on under a cope of fire, occasioned that wildness of imagination which was naby the flights of innumerable burning darts tural to him. He tells us that the giants tore and arrows which are discharged from either up whole islands by the roots, and threw them host. The second onset is still more terrible, at the gods. He describes one of them in paras it is filled with those artificial thunders, ticular taking up Lemnos in his arms, and which seem to make the victory doubtful, and whirling it to the skies, with all Vulcan's shop Another tears up mount produce a kind of consternation even in the in the midst of it. good angels. This is followed by the tear-Ida, with the river Enipeus, which ran down ing up of mountains and promontories; till the sides of it; but the poet, not content to in the last place Messiah comes forth in the describe him with this mountain upon his fulness of majesty and terror. The pomp of shoulders, tells us that the river flowed down his appearance, amidst the roaring of his his back as he held it up in that posture. It thunders, the flashes of his lightnings, and is visible to every judicious reader, that such the noise of his chariot-wheels, is described ideas savour more of the burlesque than of with the utmost flights of human imagina- the sublime. They proceed from a wantonness of imagination, and rather divert the Milton has taken There is nothing in the first and last day's mind than astonish it. engagement, which does not appear natural, every thing that is sublime in these several and agreeable enough to the ideas most read- passages, and composes out of them the folers would conceive of a fight between two ar-lowing great image: mies of angels. tion. From their foundations loos'ning to and fro, We have the full majesty of Homer in this tion of Claudian, without its puerilities. fallen angels seeing the promontories hanging I need not point out the description of the over their heads in such a dreadful manner, which are so conspicuous, that they cannot with the other numberless beauties in this book, escape the notice of the most ordinary rea der. The second day's engagement is apt to startle an imagination which has not been raised and qualified for such a description, by the reading of the ancient poets, and of Homer in particular. It was certainly a very bold thouht in our author, to ascribe the first use of artil-short description, improved by the imaginalery to the rebel angels. But as such a perni-] cious invention may be well supposed to have proceeded from snch authors, so it enters very properly into the thoughts of that being, who is all along described as aspiring to the majesty of his Maker. Such engines were the only instruments he could have made use of to imitate those thunders, that in all poetry, both sacred There are indeed so many wonderful strokes and profane, are represented as the arms of the of poetry in this book, and such a variety of Almighty. The tearing up the hills was not altogether so daring a thought as the former. sublime ideas, that it would have been imposWe are in some measure, prepared for such sible to have given them a place within the an incident by the description of the giant's bounds of this paper. Besides that I find it in war, which we meet with among the ancient a great measure done to my hand at the end poets. What still made this circumstance the of my lord Roscommon's Essay on Translated more proper for the poet's use, is the opinion Poetry. I shall refer my reader thither for of many learned men, that the fable of the giant's war, which makes as great a noise in antiquity, and gave birth to the sublimest description in Hesiod's works, was an allegory founded upon this very tradition of a fight between the good and bad angels. some of the master-strokes of the sixth book of Paradise Lost, though at the same time there are many others which that noble author has not taken notice of. Milton, notwithstanding the sublime genius he was master of, has in this book drawn to It may, perhaps, be worth while to consider his assistance all the helps he could meet with with what judgment Milton, in this narra ion, among the ancient poets. The sword of Mihas avoided every thing that is mean and tri-chael, which makes so great a havoc among vial in the description of the Latin and Greek the bad angels, was given him, we are told, poet's; and at the same time improved every out of the armoury of God: great hint which he met with in their works upon this subject. Homer, in that passage which Longinus has celebrated for its sublimeness, and which Virgil and Ovid have copied after him, tells us, that the giants threw Ossa upon Olympus, and Pelion upon Ossa. He adds an epithet to Pelion (irosiovarov) which | -But the sword Of Michael from the armoury of God This passage is a copy of that in Virgi The reader will easily discover many other strokes of the same nature. wherein the poet tells us, that the sword of Eneas, which was given him by a deity, broke into pieces the sword of Turnus, which There is no question but Milton had heated came from a mortal forge. As the moral in his imagination with the fight of the gods in this place is divine, so by the way we may ob- Homer, before he entered into this engageserve, that the bestowing on a man who is fa- ment of the angels. Homer there gives us a voured by heaven such an allegorical weapon scene of men, heroes, and gods, mixed togeis very conformable to the old eastern way of ther in battle. Mars animates the contending thinking. Not only Homer has made use of armies, and lifts up his voice in such a manit, but we find the Jewish hero in the book of ner, that it is heard distinctly amidst all the Maccabees, who had fought the battles of the shouts and confusion of the fight. Jupiter at chosen people with so much glory and success, the same time thunders over their heads; receiving in his dream a sword from the hand while Neptune raises such a tempest, that the of the prophet Jeremiah. The following pas- whole field of battle, and all the tops of the sage, wherein Satan is described as wounded mountains, shake about them. The poet tells. by the sword of Michael, is in imitation of that Pluto himself, whose habitation was in Homer: The griding sword with discontinuous wound A stream of nectarous humour issuing flow'd the very centre of the earth, was so affrighted at the shock, that he leapt from his throne. Homer afterwards describes Vulcan as pouring down a storm of fire upon the river Xanthus, and Minerva as throwing a rock at Mars; who, he tells us, covered seven acres in his fall. As Homer has introduced into his battle of Homer tells us in the same manner, that the gods every thing that is great and terrible upon Diomedes wounding the gods, there in nature, Milton has filled his fight of good flowed from the wound an ichor, or pure kind and bad angels with all the like circumstances of blood, which was not bred from mortal of horror. The shout of armies, the rattling viands; and that, though the pain was ex- of brazen chariots, the hurling of rocks and quisitely great, the wound soon closed up and mountains, the earthquake the fire, the thunhealed in those beings who are vested with der, are all of them employed to lift up the immortality. reader's imagination, and give him a suitable All heav'n resounded; and had earth been then, I question not but Milton in his description idea of so great an action. With what art of his furious Moloch flying from the battle, has the poet represented the whole body of and bellowing with the wound he had received, the earth trembling, even before it was crehad his eye on Mars in the Iliad; who, upon ated! his being wounded, is represented as retiring out of the fight, and making an outcry louder than that of a whole army when it begins the charge. Homer adds, that the Greeks and In how sublime and just a manner does he Trojans, who were engaged in a general bat- afterwards describe the whole heaven shaktle, were terrified on each side with the beling under the wheels of the Messiah's chalowing of this wounded deity. The reader riot, with that exception to the throne of will easily observe how Milton has kept all the God! horror of this image, without running into the ridicule of it: -Where the might of Gabriel fought, -Under his burning wheels The steadfast empyrean shook throughout, Notwithstanding the Messiah appears clothed with so much terror and majesty; the poet has still found means to make his readers conceive an idea of him beyond what he himself is able to describe: Yet halfhis strength he put not forth, but check'd Milton has likewise raised his description in this book with any images taken out of the poetical parts of scripture. The Messiah's chariot, as I have before taken notice, is form- In a word Milton's genius, which was so ed upon a vision of Ezekiel, who, as Grotius great in itself, and so strengthened by all the observes, has very much in him of Homer's helps of learning, appears in this book every spirit in the poetical parts of his prophecy. way equal to his subject, which was the most The following lines, in that glorious com- sublime that could enter into the thoughts of mission which is given the Messiah to extir-a poet. As he knew all the arts of affecting pate the host of rebel angels, is drawn from a sublime passage in the psalms : 'Go then, thou mightiest, in thy Father's might! the mind, he has given it certain restingplaces and opportunities of recovering itself from time to time; several speeches, reflections, similitudes, and the like reliefs, being interspersed to diversify his narration, and ease the attention of the reader. L. wrong. It is very natural to take for our whole lives a light impression of a thing, which at first fell into contempt with us for want of consideration. The real use of a certain qualification (which the wiser part of mankind look up on as at best an indifferent thing, and generally a frivolous circumstance) shows the ill conWhat I sequence of such prepossessions. mean is the art, skill, accomplishment, or whatever you will call it, of dancing. knew a gentleman of great abilities, who bewailed the want of this part of his education to the end of a very honourable life. He observed that there was not occasion for the common use of great talents; that they are but seldom in demand; and that these very great talents were often rendered useless to a A man who has self would do it with a yet greater elevation 'MR. SPECTATOR, 'Since there are scarce any of the arts and sciences that have not been recommended to the world by the pens of some of the professors masters, or lovers of them, whereby the useful ness, excellence, and benefit arising from them, both as to the speculative and practical part, have been made public, to the great advantage and improvement of such arts and sciences; why should dancing, an art celebrated by the ancients in so extraordinary a manner, be totally neglected by the moderns, and left destitute of any pen to recommend its various excellencies and substantial merit to mankind? The low ebb to which dancing is now fallen, is altogether owing to this silence. The art is esteemed only as an amusing trifle; it lies altogether uncultivated, and is unhappily fallen As Terence, in one of his prologues, complains under the imputation of illiterate and mechanic. of the rope-dancers drawing all the spectators from his play, so we may well say, that caper man for want of small attainments. A good mien (a becoming motion, gesture, and aspect) is natural to some men; but even these would be highly more graceful in their carriage, if what they do from the force of nature were confirmed and heightened from the force of reason. To one who has not at all considered it, to mention the force of reason on such a subjecting and tumbling is now preferred to, and supplies the place of, just and regular dancing on will appear fantastical; but when you have a It is therefore, in my opinion, our theatres. little attended to it, an assembly of men will high time that some one should come to its have quite another view; and they will tell you, assistance, and relieve it from the many gross it is evident from plain and infallible rules, why and growing errors that have crept into it, and this man, with those beautiful features, and a well-fashioned person, is not so agreeable as he overcast its real beauties; and, to set dancing who sits by him without any of those advan-in its true light, would show the usefulness and elegance of it, with the pleasure and instruction tages. When we read, we do it without any produced from it; and also lay down some funexerted act of memory that presents the shape of the letters; but habit makes us do it mecha-damental rules, that might so tend to the improvement of its professors, and information nically, without staying, like children, to re- of the spectators, that the first might be the collect and join those letters. dered more capable of judging what is (if there not had the regard of his gesture in any part of better enabled to perform, and the latter renbis education, will find himself unable to act 'To encourage therefore some ingenious pen with freedom before new company, as a child be any thing) valuable in this art. that is but now learning would be to read withIt is for the advancement of capable of so generous an undertaking, and in out hesitation. some measure to relieve dancing from the disthe pleasure we receive in being agreeable to each other in ordinary life, that one would wish advantages it at present lies under, 1, who teach to dance, have attempted a small treatise as an dancing were generally understood as conducive Essay towards a History of Dancing: in which I have inquired into its antiquity, origin, and as it really is, to a proper deportment in matters A man and shown what esteem the ancients had that appear the most remote from it. of learning and sense is distinguished from for it. I have likewise considered the nature others as he is such, though he never runs upon and perfection of all its several parts, and how points too difficult for the rest of the world; in beneficial and delightful it is, both as a qualifilike manner the reaching out of the arm, and cation and an exercise; and endeavoured to the most ordinary motion, discovers whether a ly raised against it. I have proceeded to give an man ever learnt to know what is the true har-answer all objections that have been maliciousaccount of the particular dances of the Greeks mony and composure of his limbs and counteWhoever has seen Booth in the cha- and Romans, whether religious, warlike, or ciracter of Pyrrhus, march to his throne to re- vil: and taken particular notice of that part of ceive Orestes, is convinced that majestic and great conceptions are expressed in the very step, but, perhaps, though no other man could perform that incident as well as he does, he him-John Weaver, 12mo. 1712. nance. use, * An Essay towards a History of Dancing, &c. By |
