Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub

No. 189.]

THE SPECTATOR

ous, the rest of the world him who is most wealthy.

When a man is in this way of thinking, I do not know what can occur to one more monstrous, than to see persons of ingenuity address their services and performances to In men no way addicted to liberal arts. these cases, the praise on one hand, and the patronage on the other, are equally the objects of ridicule. Dedications to ignorant men are as absurd as any of the speeches Such an address of Bulfinch in the Droll. one is apt to translate into other words; and when the different parties are thoroughly considered, the panegyric generally implies no more than if the author should say to the patron; My very good lord, you and I can never understand one another; therefore I humbly desire we may be intimate friends for the future.'

[ocr errors]

The rich may as well ask to borrow of the poor, as the man of virtue or merit to nope for addition to his character from any but such as himself. He that commends another engages so much of his own reputation as he gives to that person commended; and he that has nothing laudable in himself is not of ability to be such a surety. The wise Phocion was so sensible how dangerous it was to be touched with what the multitude approved, that upon a general acclamation made when he was making an oration, he turned to an intelligent friend who stood near him, and asked in a surprised manner, 'What slip have I made?'

I shall conclude this paper with a billet which has fallen into my hands, and was written to a lady from a gentleman whom she had highly commended. The author of it had formerly been her lover. When all possibility of commerce between them on the subject of love was cut off, she spoke so handsomely of him, as to give occasion for this letter.

some time since, I shall publish it in this
paper, together with the letter that was in-
closed in it.

'MR. BUCKLEY,-Mr. Spectator having
of late descanted upon the cruelty of parents
to their children, I have been induced (at
the request of several of Mr. Spectator's
admirers,) to inclose this letter, which I
assure you is the original from a father to
his own son, notwithstanding the latter gave
but little or no provocation. It would be
wonderfully obliging to the world, if Mr.
Spectator would give his opinion of it in
some of his speculations, and particularly
to (Mr. Buckley,) your humble servant.

'SIRRAH,-You are a saucy audacious not a farthing whether you comply or no; rascal, and both fool and mad, and I care that does not raze out my impressions of your insolence, going about railing at me, To be brief, I never desire and the next day to solicit my favour. These son depraved. are inconsistences, such as discover thy reato see your face; and, sirrah, if you go to the workhouse, it is no disgrace to me for in the streets, I'll never give any thing unyou to be supported there; and if you starve derhand in your behalf. If I have any more of your scribbling nonsense, I'll break your head the first time I set sight on you. You are a stubborn beast; is this your gratitude better your judgment, and give you a greater for my giving you money? You rogue, I'll father, &c. sense of your duty to (I regret to say) your

'P. S. It's prudence in you to keep out of my sight; for to reproach me, that Might overcomes Right, on the outside of your letter, I shall give you a great knock on the skull for it."

Was there ever such an image of pater'MADAM, I should be insensible to anal tenderness! It was usual among some stupidity, if I could forbear making you my of the Greeks to make their slaves drink to acknowledgments for your late mention of excess, and then expose them to their chilme with so much applause. It is, I think, dren, who by that means conceived an early your fate to give me new sentiments: as you aversion to a vice which makes men appear formerly inspired me with the true sense so monstrous and irrational. I have exof love, so do you now with the true sense posed this picture of an unnatural father of glory. As desire had the least part in with the same intention, that its deformity the passion I heretofore professed towards may deter others from its resemblance. If you, so has vanity no share in the glory to the reader has a mind to see a father of the which you have now raised me. Innocence, same stamp represented in the most exknowledge, beauty, virtue, sincerity, and quisite strokes of humour, he may meet ever appeared upon the English stage: I discretion, are the constant ornaments of with it in one of the finest comedies that Fame is a her who has said this of me. Love. babbler, but I have arrived at the highest mean the part of Sir Sampson in Love for T. glory in this world, the commendation of the most deserving person in it.'

No. 189.] Saturday, October 6, 1711.
Virg. Æn. x. 824.

-Patriæ pietatis imago.
An image of paternal tenderness.

THE following letter being written to my
bookseller, upon a subject of which I treated

I must not, however, engage myself blindly on the side of the son, to whom the fond letter above written was directed. His father calls him a 'saucy and audacious rascal,' in the first line, and I am afraid, upon examination, he will prove but an ungracious youth. To go about railing' at his father, and to find no other place but the outside of his letter' to tell him that

[ocr errors]

might overcomes right'-if it does not dis-
cover his reason to be depraved,' and
'that he is either fool or mad,' as the
choleric old gentleman tells him, we may
at least allow that the father will do very
well in endeavouring to better his judg-
ment, and give him a greater sense of his
duty.' But whether this may be brought
about by breaking his head, or giving him
a great knock on the skull,' ought, I think,
to be well considered. Upon the whole, I
wish the father has not met with his match,
and that he may not be as equally paired
with a son, as the mother in Virgil:

Crudelis tu quoque mater:
Crudelis mater magis, an puer improbus ille?
Improbus ille puer, credulis tu quoque mater.
Ecl. viii. 43.

O barbarous mother, thirsting to destroy!
More cruel was the mother or the boy?
Both, both alike delighted to destroy,
Th' unnatural mother, and the ruthless boy

Warton.

the Creator, it discovers the imperfection and degeneracy of the creature.

The obedience of children to their parents is the basis of all government, and set forth as the measure of that obedience which we owe to those whom Providence has placed over us.

It is father Le Compte, if I am not mistaken, who tells us how want of duty in this particular is punished among the Chinese, insomuch, that if a son should be known to kill, or so much as to strike his father, not only the criminal, but his whole family would be rooted out, nay, the inhabitants of the place where he lived would be put to the sword, nay, the place itself would be razed to the ground, and its foundations sown with salt. For, say they, there must have been an utter deprivation of manners in that clan or society of people who could have bred up among them so horrid an offender. To this I shall add a passage out

Or like the crow and her egg in the Greek of the first book of Herodotus. That histoproverb:

Bad the crow, bad the egg.
Kaxs xoрaxos, xaxov wov.

rian, in his account of the Persian customs and religion, tells us, it is their opinion that no man ever killed his father, or that it is possible such a crime should be in nature; but that if any thing like it should ever happen, they conclude that the reputed son must have been illegitimate, suppositious, or begotten in adultery. Their opinion in this particular shows sufficiently what a notion they must have had of undutifulness in general.

I must here take notice of a letter which I have received from an unknown correspondent upon the subject of my paper, upon which the foregoing letter is likewise founded. The writer of it seems very much concerned lest that paper should seem to give encouragement to the disobedience of children towards their parents; but if the writer of it will take the pains to read it over again attentively, I dare say his ap- No. 190.] Monday, October 8, 1711. prehensions will vanish. Pardon and reconciliation are all the penitent daughter requests, and all that I contend for in her behalf; and in this case I may use the saying of an eminent wit, who, upon some great men's pressing him to forgive his daughter who had married against his consent, told them he could refuse nothing to their instances, but that he would have them remember there was difference between giving and forgiving.

I must confess, in all controversies between parents and their children, I am naturally prejudiced in favour of the former. The obligations on that side can never be acquitted, and I think it is one of the greatest reflections upon human nature, that paternal instinct should be a stronger motive to love than filial gratitude; that the receiving of favour should be a less inducement to good-will, tenderness, and commiseration, than the conferring of them; and that the taking care of any person, should endear the child or dependant more to the parent or benefactor, than the parent or benefactor to the child or dependant; yet so it happens, that for one cruel parent we meet with a thousand undutiful children. This is, indeed, wonderfully contrived (as I have formerly observed,) for the support of every living species; but at the same time that it shows the wisdom of

Servitas crescit nova

L.

Hor. Lib. ? Od. vui. 18. A slavery to former times unknown. SINCE I made some reflections upon the general negligence used in the case of regard towards women, or in other words, since I talked of wenching, I have had epistles upon this subject, which I shall, for the present entertainment, insert as they lie before me.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-As your speculations are not confined to any part of human life, but concern the wicked as well as the good, I must desire your favourable acceptance of what I, a poor strolling girl about town, have to say to you. I was told by a Roman-Catholic gentleman who picked me up last week, and who, I hope, is absolved for what passed between us; I say, I was told by such a person, who endeavoured to convert me to his own religion, that in countries where popery prevails, besides the advantage of licensed stews, there are large endowments given for the Incurabili, I think he called them, such as are past all remedy, and are allowed such maintenance and support as to keep them without farther care until they expire. This manner of treating poor sinners has, methinks, great humanity in it; and as you are a person

who pretend to carry your reflections upon | nags, when they are warranted for their all subjects whatever that occur to you, soundness. You understand by this time with candour, and act above the sense of that I was left in a brothel, and exposed to what misinterpretation you may meet with, the next bidder, who could purchase me I beg the favour of you to lay before all the of my patroness. This is so much the work world the unhappy condition of us poor of hell: the pleasure in the possession of us vagrants, who are really in the way of wenches abates in proportion to the degrees labour instead of idlencss. There are we go beyond the bounds of innocence; and crowds of us whose manner of livelihood no man is gratified, if there is nothing left has long ceased to be pleasing to us; and for him to debauch. Well, sir, my first who would willingly lead a new life, if the man, when I came upon the town, was Sir rigour of the virtuous did not for ever expel Jeoffry Foible, who was extremely lavish us from coming into the world again. As to me of his money, and took such a fancy it now happens, to the eternal infamy of to me that he would have carried me off, the male sex, falsehood among you is not if my patroness would have taken any reareproachful, but credulity in woman is in-sonable terms for me; but as he was old,

famous.

'Give me leave, sir, to give you my history. You are to know that I am a daughter of a man of good reputation, tenant to a man of quality. The heir of this great house took it in his head to cast a favourable eye upon me, and succeeded. I do not pretend to say he promised me marriage: I was not a creature silly enough to be taken by so foolish a story; but he ran away with me up to this town, and introduced me to a grave matron, with whom I boarded for a day or two with great gravity, and was not a little pleased with the change of my condition, from that of a country life to the finest company, as I believed, in the whole world. My humble servant made me understand that I should always be kept in the plentiful condition I then enjoyed; when after a very great fondness towards me, he one day took his leave of me for four or five days. In the evening of the same day, my good landlady came to me, and observing me very pensive, began to comfort me, and with a smile told me I must see the world. When I was deaf to all she could say to divert me, she began to tell me with a very frank air that I must be treated as I ought, and not to take these squeamish humours upon me, for my friend had left me to the town; and, as their phrase is, she expected I would see company, or I must be treated like what I had brought myself to. This put me into a fit of crying: and I immediately, in a true sense of my condition, threw myself on the floor, deploring my fate, calling upon all that was good and sacred to succour me. While I was in this agony, I observed a decrepid old fellow come into the room, and looking with a sense of pleasure in his face at all my vehemence and transport. In a pause distresses I heard him say to the shameless old woman who stood by me, "She is certainly a new face, or else she acts it rarely. With that the gentlewoman, who was making her market of me, in all the turns of my person, the heaves of my passion, and the suitable change of my posture, took occasion to commend my neck, my shape, my eyes, my limbs. All this was accompanied with such speeches as you may have heard horse-coursers make in the sale of

his covetousness was his strongest passion, and poor I was soon left exposed to be the common refuse of all the rakes and debauchees in town. I cannot tell whether you will do me justice or no, till I see whether you print this or not; otherwise, as I now live with Sal, I could give you a very just account of who and who is together in this town. You perhaps won't believe it; but I know of one who pretends to be a very good Protestant, who lies with a Roman-Catholic: but more of this hereafter, as you please me. There do come to our house the greatest politicians of the age; and Sal is more shrewd than any body thinks. No body can believe that such wise men could go to bawdy-houses out of idle purpose. I have heard them often talk of Augustus Cæsar, who had intrigues with the wives of senators, not out of wantonness but stratagem.

"It is a thousand pities you should be so severely virtuous as I fear you are; otherwise, after one visit or two, you would soon understand that we women of the town are not such useless correspondents as you may imagine: you have undoubtedly heard that it was a courtesan who discovered Catiline's conspiracy. If you print this I'll tell you more; and am, in the meantime, sir, your most humble servant,

REBECCA NETTLETOP.'

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am an idle young woman that would work for my livelihood, but that I am kept in such a manner as cannot stir out. My tyrant is an old jealous fellow, who allows me nothing to appear in.

have but one shoe and one slipper; no head-dress, and no upper-petticoat. As you set up for a reformer, I desire you would of my take me out of this wicked way and keep EVE AFTERDAY.' me yourself.

[ocr errors]

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am to complain to you of a set of impertinent coxcombs, who visit the apartments of us women of the town, only, as they call it, to see the world. I must confess to you, this to men of delicacy might have an effect to cure them; but as they are stupid, noisy, and

* A celebrated courtesan and procuress at that time upon the town.

drunken fellows, it tends only to make vice in themselves, as they think, pleasant and humorous, and at the same time nauseous in us. I shall, sir, hereafter, from time to time give you the names of these wretches who pretend to enter our houses merely as Spectators. Those men think it wit to use us ill: pray tell them, however worthy we are of such treatment, it is unworthy them to be guilty of it towards us. Pray, sir, take notice of this, and pity the oppressed: I wish we could add to it, the innocent.'

No. 191.] Tuesday, October 9, 1711.

λον ονειρον.

T.

Hom. Il. ii. 6.
Pope.

-Deluding vision of the night. SOME ludicrous schoolmen have put the case, that if an ass were placed between two bundles of hay, which affected his senses equally on each side, and tempted him in the very same degree, whether it would be possible for him to eat of either. They generally determine this question to the disadvantage of the ass, who they say would starve in the midst of plenty, as not having a single grain of free-will, to determine him more to the one than to the other. The bundle of hay on either side striking his sight and smell in the same proportion, would keep him in perpetual suspense, like the two magnets, which travellers have told us, are placed one of them in the roof, and the other in the floor of Mahomet's burying-place at Mecca, and by that means say they, pull the impostor's iron coffin with such an equal attraction, that it hangs in the air between both of them. As for the ass's behaviour in such nice circumstances, whether he would starve sooner than violate his neutrality to the two bundles of hay, I shall not presume to determine; but only take notice of the conduct of our own species in the same perplexity. When a man has a mind to venture his money in a lottery, every figure of it appears equally alluring, and as likely to succeed as any of its fel. lows. They all of them have the same pretensions to good-luck, stand upon the same foot of competition, and no manner of reason can be given why a man should prefer one to the other before the lottery is drawn. In this case therefore caprice very often acts in the place of reason, and forms to itself some groundless imaginary motive, where real and substantial ones are want

ing. I know a well-meaning man that is very well pleased to risk his good-fortune upon the number 1711, because it is the year of our Lord. I am acquainted with a tacker* that would give a good deal for

the number 134. On the contrary, I have been told of a certain zealous dissenter who being a great enemy to popery, and believing that bad men are the most fortunate in this world, will lay two to one on the number 666 against any other number, because, says he, it is the number of the beast. Several would prefer the number 12,000 before any other, as it is the number of the pounds in the great prize. In short, some are pleased to find their own age in their number; some that have got a number which makes a pretty appearance in the cyphers; and others, because it is the same number that succeeded in the last lottery. Each of these upon no other grounds, thinks he stands fairest for the great lot, and that he is possessed of what may not be improperly called 'the golden number.'

These principles of election are the pastimes and extravagances of human reason, which is of so busy a nature, that it will be exerting itself in the meanest trifles, and working even when it wants materials. The wisest of men are sometimes acted‡ by such unaccountable motives, as the life of the fool and the superstitious is guided by nothing else.

I am surprised that none of the fortunetellers, or, as the French call them, the Diseurs de bonne Avanture, who publish their bills in every quarter of the town, have turned our lotteries to their advantage. Did any of them set up for a caster of fortunate figures, what might he not get by his pretended discoveries and predictions?

I remember among the advertisements in the Post-Boy of September the 27th, I was surprised to see the following one:

"This is to give notice, that ten shillings over and above the market-price, will be given for the ticket in the 1,500,000l. lottery, No. 132, by Nath. Cliff, at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside.'

This advertisement has given great mat

ter of speculation to coffee-house theorists. Mr. Cliff's principles and conversation have been canvassed upon this occasion, and various conjectures made why he should thus set his heart upon No. 132. I have exbroken them into fractions, extracted the amined all the powers in those numbers, square and cube root, divided and multiplied them all ways, but could not arrive at the secret until about three days ago, when I received the following letter from an unknown hand; by which I find that Mr. Nath. Cliff is only the agent, and not the principal in this advertisement.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am the person that lately advertised I would give ten shillings more than the current price for the ticket No. 132 in the lottery now drawing; which

*In 1704 a bill was brought into the House of Commons against occasional conformity; and in order to make it pass the lords, from whom much opposition was expected, it was proposed to tack it to a money-bill. but 250 being against it, the motion was overruled, and This was violently opposed; and after a warm discus- the bill committed unclogged. sion, it was put to the vote, when 134 were for tacking:| † See Revelations, ch. xiii. 18. + Actuated.

-Uno ore omnes omnia Bona dicere, et laudare fortunas meas, Qui gnatum haberem tali ingenio præditum. Ter. Andr. Act i. sc. 1.

-All the world

With one accord said all good things, and prais'd
My happy fortunes, who possess a son
So good, so liberally disposed.-

Colman.

is a secret which I have communicated to No. 192.] Wednesday, October 10, 1711. some friends, who rally me incessantly upon that account. You must know I have but one ticket, for which reason, and a certain dream I have lately had more than once, I was resolved it should be the number I most approved. I am so positive I have pitched upon the great lot, that I could almost lay all I am worth of it. My visions are so frequent and strong upon this occasion, that I have not only possessed the lot, but disposed of the money which in all probability it will sell for. This morning in particular, I set up an equipage, which I look upon to be the gayest in the town: the liveries are very rich, but not gaudy. I should be very glad to see a speculation or two upon lottery subjects, in which you would oblige all people concerned, and in particular, your most humble servant,

GEORGE GOSLING.

'P. S. Dear Spec, if I get the 12,000 pound, I'll make thee a handsome present.'

After having wished my correspondent good luck, and thanked him for his intended kindness, I shall for this time dismiss the subject of the lottery, and only observe, that the greatest part of mankind are in some degree guilty of my friend Gosling's extravagance. We are apt to rely upon future prospects, and become really expensive while we are only rich in possibility. We live up to our expectations, not to our possessions, and make a figure proportionable to what we may be, not what we are. We outrun our present income, as not doubting to disburse ourselves out of the profits of some future place, project, or reversion that we have in view. It is through this temper of mind, which is so common among us, that we see tradesmen break, who have met with no misfortunes in their business; and men of estates reduced to poverty, who have never suffered from losses or repairs, tenants, taxes, or law-suits. In short, it is this foolish, sanguine temper, this depending upon contingent futurities, that occasions romantic generosity, chimerical grandeur, senseless ostentation, and generally ends in beggary and ruin. The man who will live above his present circumstances, is in great danger of living in a little time much beneath them;' or, as the Italian proverb runs,The man who lives by hope, will die by hunger.'

It should be an indispensable rule in life, to contract our desires to our present condition, and, whatever may be our expectations, to live within the compass of what we actually possess. It will be time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune we shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may possibly never possess what we have so foolishly counted upon. L.

* i. e. reimburse.

His

I STOOD the other day, and beheld a father sitting in the middle of a room with a large family of children about him; and methought I could observe in his countenance different motions of delight, as he turned his eye towards the one and the other of them. The man is a person moderate in his designs for their preferment and welfare: and as he has an easy fortune, he is not solicitous to make a great one. eldest son is a child of a very towardly disposition, and as much as the father loves him, I dare say he will never be a knave to improve his fortune. I do not know any man who has a juster relish of life than the person I am speaking of, or keeps a better guard against the terrors of want, or the hopes of gain. It is usual in a crowd of children, for the parent to name out of his own flock all the great officers of the kingdom. There is something so very surprising in the parts of a child of a man's own, that there is nothing too great to be expected from his endowments. I know a good woman who has but three sons, and there is, she says, nothing she expects with more certainty, than that she shall see one of them a bishop, the other a judge, and the third a court-physician. The humour is, that any thing which can happen to any man's child, is expected by every man for his own. But my friend, whom I was going to speak of, does not flatter himself with such vain expectations, but has his eye more upon the virtue and disposition of his children, than their advancement or wealth. Good habits are what will certainly improve a man's fortune and reputation; but, on the other side, affluence of fortune will not as probably produce good affections of the mind.

It is very natural for a man of a kind disposition, to amuse himself with the promises his imagination makes to him of the future condition of his children, and to represent to himself the figure they shall bear in the world after he has left it. When his prospects of this kind are agreeable, his fondness gives as it were a longer date to his own life; and the survivorship of a worthy man in his son, is a pleasure scarce inferior to the hopes of the continuance of his own life. That man is happy who can believe of his own son, that he will escape the follies and indiscretions of which he himself was guilty, and pursue and improve every thing that was valuable in him. The continuance of his virtue is much more to be regarded than that of his life; but it is the most lamentable of all reflections, to think

« PředchozíPokračovat »