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ne has an uncle will leave him some thou- | am not mistaken in myself, I think I have
sands. Will has many arts of this kind to a genius to escape it. Upon hearing in a
torture this sort of temper, and delights in coffee-house one of my papers commended,
it. When he finds them change colour, and I immediately apprehended the envy that
say faintly they wish such a piece of news would spring from that applause; and there-
is true, he has the malice to speak some fore gave a description of my face the next
good or other of every man of their ac- day; being resolved, as I grow in reputa-
quaintance.
tion for wit to resign my pretensions to
beauty. This, I hope, may give some ease
to those unhappy gentlemen who do me the
count of this my paper. As their case is
very deplorable, and deserves compassion,
I shall sometimes be dull, in pity to them,
and will, from time to time, administer
consolations to them by further discoveries
of my person. In the meanwhile, if any
one says the Spectator has wit, it may be
some relief to them to think that he does
not show it in company. And if any one
praises his morality, they may comfort
themselves by considering that his face is
none of the longest.
R.

Κυνος όμματ' εχων

Thou dog in forehead!

The reliefs of the envious man are those little blemishes and imperfections that discover themselves in an illustrious charac-honour to torment themselves upon the acter. It is a matter of great consolation to an envious person, when a man of known honour does a thing unworthy himself, or when any action which was well executed, upon better information appears so altered in its circumstances, that the fame of it is divided among many, instead of being attributed to one. This is a secret satisfaction to these malignants; for the person whom they before could not but admire, they fancy is nearer their own condition as soon as his merit is shared among others. I remember some years ago there came out an excellent poem without the name of the author. The little wits, who were incapable of writing No. 20.] Friday, March 23, 1710-11. it, began to pull in pieces the supposed writer. When that would not do, they took great pains to suppress the opinion that it was his. That again failed.~ The next refuge was to say it was overlooked by one man, and many pages wholly written by another. An honest fellow, who sat amongst a cluster of them in debate on this subject, cried out, Gentlemen, if you are sure none of you yourselves had a hand in it, you are but where you were, whoever writ it.' But the most usual succour to the envious, in cases of nameless merit in this kind, is to keep the property, if possible, unfixed, and by that means to hinder the reputation of it from falling upon any particular person. You see an envious man clear up his countenance, if in the relation of any man's great happiness in one point, you mention his uneasiness in another. When he hears such a one is very rich he turns pale, but recovers when you add that he has many children. In a word, the only sure way to an envious man's favour, is not to deserve it.

Hom. Il. i. 225. Pope. AMONG the other hardy undertakings which I have proposed to myself, that of the correction of impudence is what I have very much at heart. This in a particular manner is my province as Spectator; for it is generally an offence committed by the eyes, and that against such as the offenders would perhaps never have an opportunity of injuring any other way. The following letter is a complaint of a young lady, who sets forth a trespass of this kind, with that command of herself as befits beauty and innocence, and yet with so much spírit as sufficiently expresses her indignation. The whole transaction is performed with the eyes; and the crime is no less than employing them in such a manner, as to divert the eyes of others from the best use they can make of them, even looking up to heaven.

'SIR,

But if we consider the envious man in 'There never was (I believe) an acceptdelight, it is like reading of the seat of a able man but had some awkward imitators. giant in a romance; the magnificence of his Ever since the Spectator appeared, have I nouse consists in the many limbs of men remarked a kind of men, whom I choose to whom he has slain. If any who promised call Starers; that without any regard to themselves success in any uncommon un-time, place, or modesty, disturb a large dertaking miscarry in the attempt, or he that aimed at what would have been useful and laudable, meets with contempt and derision, the envious man, under the colour of hating vainglory, can smile with an inward wantonness of heart at the ill effect it may have upon an honest ambition for the future.

Having thoroughly considered the nature of this passion, I have made it my study how to avoid the envy that may accrue to me from these my speculations; and if I

company with their impertinent eyes. Spectators make up a proper assembly for a puppet-show or a bear-garden; but devout supplicants and attentive hearers are the audience one ought to expect in churches. I am, sir, member of a small pious congregation near one of the north gates of this city; much the greater part of us indeed are females, and used to behave ourselves in a regular and attentive manner, till very lately one whole aisle has been disturbed by one of these monstrous Starers; he is

the head taller than any one in the church;
but for the greater advantage of exposing
himself, stands upon a hassock, and com-
mands the whole congregation, to the great
annoyance of the devoutest part of the au-
ditory; for what with blushing, confusion,
and vexation, we can neither mind the
prayers or sermon. Your animadversion
upon this insolence would be a great favour
to, Sir,
Your most humble servant,

'S. C.'

Im

outlaw in good breeding, and therefore what is said of him no nation or person can be concerned for. For this reason one may be free upon him. I have put myself to great pains in considering this prevailing quality, which we call impudence, and have taken notice that it exerts itself in a different manner, according to the different soils wherein such subjects of these dominions as are masters of it, were born. pudence in an Englishman, is sullen and insolent; in a Scotchman it is untractable and rapacious; in an Irishman absurd and fawning. As the course of the world now runs, the impudent Englishman behaves like a surly landlord, the Scot like an illreceived guest, and the Irishman like a stranger, who knows he is not welcome. There is seldom any thing entertaining either in the impudence of a South or North Briton; but that of an Irishman is always

I have frequently seen of this sort of fellows, and do think there cannot be a greater aggravation of an offence, than that it is committed where the criminal is protected by the sacredness of the place which he violates. Many reflections of this sort might be very justly made upon this kind of behaviour, but a Starer is not usually a person to be convinced by the reason of the thing; and a fellow that is capable of show-comic. A true and genuine impudence is ing an impudent front before a whole congregation, and can bear being a public spectacle, is not so easily rebuked as to amend by admonitions. If, therefore, my correspondent does not inform me that within seven days after this date the barbarian does at least stand upon his own legs only, without an eminence, my friend Will Prosper has promised to take a hassock opposite to him, and stare against him in defence of the ladies. I have given him directions, according to the most exact rules of optics, to place himself in such a manner, that he shall meet his eyes wherever he throws them. I have hopes that when Will confronts him, and all the ladies, in whose behalf he engages him, cast kind looks and wishes of success at their champion, he will have some shame, and feel a little of the pain he has so often put others to, of being out of countenance,

It has, indeed, been time out of mind generally remarked, and as often lamented, that this family of Starers have infested public assemblies. I know no other way to obviate so great an evil, except, in the case of fixing their eyes upon women, some male friend will take the part of such as are under the oppression of impudence, and encounter the eyes of the Starers wherever they meet them. While we suffer our women to be thus impudently attacked, they have no defence, but in the end to cast yielding glances at the Starers. In this case, a man who has no sense of shame, has the same advantage over his mistress, as he who has no regard for his own life has over his adversary. While the generality of the world are fettered by rules, and move by proper and just methods; he, who has no respect to any of them, carries away the reward due to that propriety of behaviour, with no other merit, but that of having neglected it.

I take an impudent fellow to be a sort of

*See Spect. No. 19.

ever the effect of ignorance, without the least sense of it. The best and most successful Starers now in this town are of that nation; they have usually the advantage of the stature mentioned in the above letter of my correspondent, and generally take their stands in the eye of women of fortune; insomuch that I have known one of them, three months after he came from plough, with a tolerable good air, lead out a woman from a play, which one of our own breed, after four years at Oxford, and two at the Temple, would have been afraid to look at.

I cannot tell how to account for it, but these people have usually the preference to our own fools, in the opinion of the sillier part of womankind. Perhaps it is that an English coxcomb is seldom so obsequious as an Irish one; and when the design of pleasing is visible, an absurdity in the way toward it is easily forgiven.

But those who are downright impudent, and go on without reflection that they are such, are more to be tolerated, than a set of fellows among us who profess impudence with an air of humour, and think to carry off the most inexcusable of all faults in the world, with no other apology than saying in a gay tone, I put an impudent face upon the matter.' No; no man shall be allowed the advantages of impudence, who is conscious that he is such. If he knows he is impudent, he may as well be otherwise; and it shall be expected that he blush, when he sees he makes another do it. For nothing can atone for the want of modesty: without which beauty is ungraceful, and wit detestable.

R.

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sions of divinity, law, and physic; how they | house more than Westminster-hall, and are are each of them overburdened with prac- seen in all public assemblies, except in a titioners, and filled with multitudes of in- court of justice. I shall say nothing of those genious gentlemen that starve one another. silent and busy multitudes that are emWe may divide the clergy into generals, ployed within doors in the drawing up of field officers, and subalterns. Among the writings and conveyances; nor of those first we may reckon bishops, deans, and greater numbers that palliate their want of archdeacons. Among the second are doc-business with a pretence to such chamber tors of divinity, prebendaries, and all that practice. wear scarfs. The rest are comprehended under the subalterns. As for the first class, our constitution preserves it from any redundancy of incumbents, notwithstanding competitors are numberless. Upon a strict calculation, it is found that there has been a great exceeding of late years in the second division, several brevets have been granted for the converting of subalterns into scarfofficers; insomuch, that within my memory the price of lutestring is raised above twopence in a yard. As for the subalterns, they are not to be numbered. Should our clergy once enter into the corrupt practice of the laity, by the splitting of their freeholds, they would be able to carry most of the elections in England.

The body of the law is no less incumbered with superfluous members, that are like Virgil's army, which he tells us was so crowded, many of them had not room to use their weapons. This prodigious society of men may be divided into the litigious and peaceable. Under the first are comprehended all those who are carried down in coachfuls to Westminster-hall, every morning in term time. Martial's description of this species of lawyers is full of humour:

Iras et verba locant.'

'Men that hire out their words and anger:' that are more or less passionate according as they are paid for it, and allow their client a quantity of wrath proportionable to the fee which they receive from him. I must, however, observe to the reader, that above three parts of those whom I reckon among the litigious are such as are only quarrelsome in their hearts, and have no opportunity of showing their passion at the bar. Nevertheless, as they do not know what strifes may arise, they appear at the hall every day, that they may show themselves in a readiness to enter the lists, whenever there shall be occasion for them.

The peaceable lawyers are, in the first place, many of the benchers of the several inns of court, who seem to be the dignitaries of the law, and are endowed with those qualifications of mind that accomplish a man rather for a ruler than a pleader. These men live peaceably in their habitations, eating once a day, and dancing once a year, for the honour of their respective societies.

Another numberless branch of peaceable lawyers are those young men who, being placed at the inns of court in order to study the laws of their country, frequent the play

* See Dugdale's Origines Juridiciales.

If, in the third place, we look into the profession of physic, we shall find a most formidable body of men. The sight of them is enough to make a man serious, for we may lay it down as a maxim, that when a nation abounds in physicians, it grows thin of people. Sir William Temple is very much puzzled to find out a reason why the Northern Hive, as he calls it, does not send out such prodigious swarms, and over-run the world with Goths and Vandals, as it did formerly; but had that excellent author observed that there were no students in physic among the subjects of Thor and Woden, and that this science very much flourishes in the north at present, he might have found a better solution for this difficulty than any of those he has made use of. This body of men in our own country may be described like the British army in Cæsar's time. Some of them slay in chariots, and some on foot. If the infantry do less execution than the charioteers, it is because they cannot be carried so soon into all quarters of the town, and despatch so much business in so short a time. Besides this body of regular troops, there are stragglers, who without being duly listed and enrolled, do infinite mischief to those who are so unlucky as to fall into their hands.

There are, besides the above-mentioned, innumerable retainers to physic, who, for want of other patients, amuse themselves with the stifling of cats in an air-pump, cutting up dogs alive, or impaling of insects upon the point of a needle for microscopical observations; besides those that are employed in the gathering of weeds, and the chase of butterflies: not to mention the cockleshell-merchants and spider-catchers.

When I consider how each of these professions are crowded with multitudes that seek their livelihood in them, and how many men of merit there are in each of them, who may be rather said to be of the science, than the profession, I very much wonder at the humour of parents, who will not rather choose to place their sons in a way of life where an honest industry cannot but thrive, than in stations where the greatest probity, learning, and good sense may miscarry. How many men are country curates, that might have made themselves aldermen of London, by a right improvement of a smaller sum of money than what is usually laid out upon a learned education? A sober, frugal person, of slender parts, and a slow apprehension, might have thrived in trade, though he starves upon physic; as a man would be well enough pleased to buy

2

silks of one whom he would not venture to feel his pulse. Vagellius is careful, studious, and obliging, but withal a little thicksculled; he has not a single client, but might have had abundance of customers. The misfortune is, that parents take a liking to a particular profession, and therefore desire their sons may be of it: whereas, in so great an affair of life, they should consider the genius and abilities of their children, more than their own inclinations.

It is the great advantage of a trading nation that there are very few in it so dull and heavy, who may not be placed in stations of life, which may give them an opportunity of making their fortunes. A well-regulated commerce is not, like law, physic, or divinity, to be overstocked with hands; but on the contrary flourishes by multitudes, and gives employment to all its professors. Fleets of merchantmen are so many squadrons of floating shops, that vend our wares and manufactures in all the markets of the world, and find out chapmen under both the tropics. C.

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No. 22.] Monday, March 26, 1710-11.
Quodquemque ostendis mihi sic, incredulis odi.
Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 5.

-Whatever contradicts my sense

I hate to see, and never can believe.

Roscommon.

boldens me, who am the wild boar that was
killed by Mrs. Tofts, to represent to you,
that I think I was hardly used in not hav
ing the part of the lion of Hydaspes given
to me. It would have been but a natural
step for me to have personated that noble
creature, after having behaved myself to
satisfaction in the part above-mentioned.
That of a lion is too great a character for
one that never trod the stage before but
upon two legs. As for the little resistance
which I made, I hope it may be excused,
when it is considered that the dart was
thrown at me by so fair a hand. I must
confess I had but just put on my brutality;
and Camilla's charms were such, that be-
holding her erect mien, hearing her charm-
ing voice, and astonished with her graceful
motion, I could not keep up to my assumed
fierceness, but died like a man.
'I am, Sir,

Your most humble admirer,
THOMAS PRONE.'

'MR. SPECTATOR,

'Your most humble servant,

'WILLIAM SCREENE."

'MR. SPECTATOR,

'This is to let you understand, that the playhouse is a representation of the world in nothing so much as in this particular, that no one rises in it according to his merit. I have acted several parts of householdstuff with great applause for many years: I am one of the men in the hangings in The Emperor of the Moon;' I have twice performed the third chair in an English THE Word Spectator being most usually opera; and have rehearsed the pump in understood as one of the audience at publicThe Fortune-Hunters.' I am now grown representations in our theatres, I seldom old, and hope you will recommend me so fail of many letters relating to plays and effectually, as that I may say something operas. But indeed there are such mon- before I go off the stage: in which you will strous things done in both, that if one had do a great act of charity to not been an eye-witness of them, one could not believe that such matters had really been exhibited. There is very little which concerns human life, or is a picture of nature, that is regarded by the greater part of the company. The understanding is dismissed from our entertainments. Our mirth is the laughter of fools, and our admiration the wonder of idiots; else such improbable, monstrous, and incoherent dreams could not go off as they do, not only without the utmost scorn and contempt, but even with the loudest applause and approbation. But the letters of my correspondents will represent this affair in a more lively manner than any discourse of my own; I shall therefore give them to my reader with only this preparation, that they all come from players, and that the business of playing is now so managed, that you are not to be surprisedSIR, when I say one or two of them are rational, others sensitive and vegetative actors, and others wholly inanimate. I shall not place these as I have named them, but as they have precedence in the opinion of their audiences.

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'Understanding that Mr. Screene has writ to you, and desired to be raised from dumb and still parts; I desire, if you give him motion or speech, that you would advance me in my way, and let me keep on in what I humbly presume I am a master, to wit, in representing human and still life together. I have several times acted one of the finest flower-pots in the same opera wherein Mr. Screene is a chair; therefore, upon his promotion, request that I may succeed him in the hangings, with my hand in the orange-trees.

"Your humble servant, RALPH SIMPLE.' Drury-lane, March 24th, 1710-11 'I saw your friend the Templar this evening in the pit, and thought he looked very little pleased with the representation of the mad scene of the Pilgrim.* I wish, sir, you would do us the favour to animadvert frequently upon the false taste the

vived at Drury Lane in 1700, with a new prologue and epilogue by Dryden.

A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher; it was re

town is in, with relation to plays as well as operas. It certainly requires a degree of understanding to play justly; but such is our condition, that we are to suspend our reason to perform our parts.

'As to scenes of madness, you know, sir, there are noble instances of this kind in Shakspeare; but then it is the disturbance of a noble mind, from generous and humane resentments. It is like that grief which we have for the decease of our friends. It is no diminution, but a recommendation of human nature, that in such incidents, passion gets the better of reason; and all we can think to comfort ourselves, is impotent against half what we feel. I will not mention that we had an idiot in the scene, and all the sense it is represented to have is that of lust. As for myself, who have long taken pains in personating the passions, I have to-night acted only an appetite. The part I played is Thirst, but it is represented as written rather by a drayman than a poet. I come in with a tub about me, that tub hung with quart pots, with a full gallon at my mouth. I am ashamed to tell you that I pleased very much, and this was introduced as a madness; but sure it was not human madness, for a mule or an ass may have been as dry as ever I was in my life. I am, Sir,

"Your most obedient and humble servant.'

MR. SPECTATOr,

'From the Savoy,
in the Strand.

'If you can read it with dry eyes, I give you this trouble to acquaint you that I am the unfortunate King Latinus, and I believe I am the first prince that dated from this palace since John of Gaunt. Such is the uncertainty of all human greatness, that I, who lately never moved without a guard, am now pressed as a common soldier, and am to sail, with the first fair wind, against my brother Lewis of France. It is a very hard thing to put off a character which one has appeared in with applause. This I experienced since the loss of my diadem; for upon quarrelling with another recruit, I spoke my indignation out of my part in recitativo;

86

-Most audacious slave,

Dar'st thou an angry monarch's fury brave?"

The words were no sooner out of my mouth,
when a sergeant knocked me down, and
asked me if I had a mind to mutiny, in talk-
ing things nobody understood. You see,
sir, my unhappy circumstances: and if by
your mediation you can procure a subsidy
for a prince (who never failed to make all
that beheld him merry at his appearance)
you will merit the thanks of your friend,
"THE KING OF LATIUM,'
ADVERTISEMENT.

For the good of the Public.
Within two doors of the masquerade lives an eminent
Italian chirurgeon, arrived from the carnival at Venice,
of great experience in private cures. Accommodations
are provided, and persons admitted in their masking
babits.

He has cured since his coming thither, in less than a fortnight, four scaramouches, a mountebank doctor,

two Turkish bassas, three nuns, and a morris-dancer.

N. B. Any person may agree by the great, and be kept in repair by the year. The doctor draws teeth without pulling off your mask.

No. 23.] Tuesday, March 27, 1711.
Sævit atrox Volscens, nec teli conspicit usquam
Autorem, nec quo se ardens immittere possit.

R.

Virg. Æn. ix. 420.
Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and gazing round,
Descry'd not him who gave the fatal wound:
Nor knew to fix revenge.

Dryden. THERE is nothing that more betrays a base ungenerous spirit than the giving of secret stabs to a man's reputation; lampoons and satires, that are written with wit and spirit, are like poisoned darts, which not only inflict a wound, but make it incurable. For this reason I am very much troubled when I see the talents of humour and ridicule in the possession of an ill-natured man.* There cannot be a greater gratification to a barbarous and inhuman wit, than to stir up sorrow in the heart of a private person, to raise uneasiness among near relations, and to expose whole families to derision, at the same time that he remains unseen and undiscovered. If, besides the accomplishments of being witty and ill-natured, a man is vicious into the bargain, he is one of the most mischievous creatures than can enter into a civil society. His satire will then chiefly fall upon those who ought to be the most exempt from it. Virtue, merit, and every thing that is praiseworthy, will be made the subject of ridicule and buffoonery. It is impossible to enumerate the evils which arise from these arrows that fly in the dark, and I know no other excuse that is or can be made for them, than that the wounds they give are only imaginary, and produce nothing more than a secret shame or sorrow in the mind of the suffering person. It must indeed be confessed, that a lampoon or a satire do not carry in them robbery or murder; but at the same time how many are there that would not rather lose a considerable sum of money, or even life itself, than be set up as a mark of infamy and derision? and in this case a man should consider, that an injury is not to be measured by the notions of him that gives, but of him who receives it.

Those who can put the best countenance upon the outrages of this nature which are offered them, are not without their secret anguish. I have observed a passage in Socrates' behaviour at his death, in a light

wherein none of the critics have considered it. That excellent man entertaining his friends, a little before he drank the bowl of poison, with a discourse on the immortality of the soul, at his entering upon it, says, that he does not believe any the most

* It has been said that this was intended as a character of Dean Swift.

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