There is not any circumstance in Cæsar's cha-| No. 257.] Tuesday, December 25, 1711. Ούχ' εὕδει Διὸς Incert. ex Stob. racter which gives me a greater idea of him, than a saying which Cicero tells us he frequently made use of in private conversation, That he was satisfied with his share of life No slumber seals the eye of Providence, and fame.' Se satis vel ad naturum, vel ad Present to every action we commence. glorium vixisse.' Many inded have given over their pursuits after fame, but that has THAT I might not lose myself upon a subproceeded either from the disappointments ject of so great extent as that of fame, I have they have met in it, or from their experi-treated it in a particular order and method. ence of the little pleasure which attends it, or I have first of all considered the reasons why from the better informations or natural cold- Providence may have implanted in our minds ness of old age; but seldom from a full satis-such a principle of action. I have in the next faction and acquiescence in their present en-place shown from many considerations, first, joyments of it. that fame is a thing difficult to be obtained, Nor is fame only unsatisfying in itself, but and easily lost; secondly, that it brings the amthe desire of it lays us open to many acci-bitious man very little happiness, but subjects dental troubles which those are free from, who him to much uneasiness and dissatisfaction have not such a tender regard for it. How I shall in the last place show, that it hinders often is the ambitious man cast down and dis- us from obtaining an end which we have abiappointed, if he receives no praise where he lities to acquire, and which is accompanied expected it? Nay, how often is he mortified with fulness of satisfaction. I need not tell with the very praises he receives, if they do my reader, that I mean by this end, that hapnot rise so high as he thinks they ought; piness which is reserved for us in another which they seldom do, unless increased by world, which every one has abilities to proflattery, since few men have so good an cure, and which will bring along with it fulopinion of us as we have of ourselves? But if ness of joy and pleasures for evermore.' the ambitious man can be so much grieved even with praise itself, how will he be able to bear up under scandal and defamation? for the same temper of mind which makes him desire fame, makes him hate reproach. If he can be transported with the extraordinary praises of men, he will be as much dejected by their censures. How little therefore is the happiness of an ambitious man, who gives every one a dominion over it, who thus subjects himself to the good or ill speeches of others, and puts it in the power of every malicious tongue to throw him into a fit of melancholy, and destroy his natural rest and repose of mind; especially when we consider that the world is more apt to censure than applaud, and himself fuller of from a desire of the first. imperfections than virtues. How the pursuit after fame may hinder us in the attainment of this great end, I shall leave the reader to collect from the three following considerations: First, because the strong desire of fame breeds several vicious habits in the mind. Secondly, because many of those actions, which are apt to procure fame, are not in their nature conducive to this our ultimate happiness. Thirdly, Because if we should allow the same actions to be the proper instruments, both of acquiring fame, and of procuring this happiness, they would nevertheless fail in the attainment of this last end, if they proceeded These three propositions are self-evident to We may further observe, that such a man those who are versed in speculations of mowill be more grieved for the loss of fame, than rality. For which reason I shall not enlarge he could have been pleased with the enjoy-upon them, but proceed to a point of the same ment of it. For though the presence of this nature, which may open to us a more uncomimaginary good cannot make us happy, the mon field of speculation. absence of it may make us miserable: because From what has been already observed, I in the enjoyment of an object we only find think we may make a natural conclusion, that that share of pleasure which it is capable of it is the greatest folly to seek the praise or giving us, but in the loss of it we do not pro-approbation of any being, besides the Supreme portion our grief to the real value it bears, and that for these two reasons; because no but to the value our fancies and imaginations set upon it. other being can make a right judgment of us, and esteem us according to our merits; and because we can procure no considerable benefit or advantage from the esteem and approbation of any other being. So inconsiderable is the satisfaction that fame brings along with it, and so great the disquietudes to which it makes us liable. The desire of it stirs up very uneasy motions in the In the first place, no other being can make mind. and is rather inflamed than satisfied by a right judgment of us, and esteem us accordthe presence of the thing desired. The enjoy-ing to our merits. Created beings see nothing ment of it brings but very little pleasure, but our outside, and can therefore only frame though the loss or want of it be very sensible a judgment of us from our exterior actions and afflicting; and even this little happiness and behaviour; but how unfit these are to is so very precarious, that it wholly depends give us a right notion of each other's perfecupon the will of others. We are not only tor- tions, may appear from several considerations. tured by the reproaches which are offered us, There are many virtues which in their own but are disappointed by the silence of men nature are incapable of any outward reprewhere it is unexpected; and humbled even by sentation; many silent perfections in the soul their praises. C. of a good man, which are great ornaments to with the general design, but can never express human nature, but not able to discover them- the beauty and life of the original. But the selves to the knowledge of others; they are great Judge of all the earth knows every diftransacted in private without noise or show, ferent state and degree of human improve and are only visible to the great Searcher of ment from those weak stirrings and tendenhearts. What actions can express the entire cies of the will which have not yet formed purity of thought which refines and sanctifies themselves into regular purposes and designs, a virtuous man. That secret rest, and con- to the last entire finishing and consummation tentedness of mind, which gives him a perfect of 'a good habit. He beholds the first imperenjoyment of his present condition? That in- fect rudiments of a virtue in the soul, and ward pleasure and compiacency which he feels keeps a watchful eye over it in all its proin doing good? That delight and satisfaction gress, until it has received every grace it is which he takes in the prosperity and happiness capable of, and appears in its full beauty and of another? These and the like virtues are perfection. Thus we see that none but the the hidden beauties of a soul, the secret graces Supreme Being can esteem us according to which cannot be discovered by a mortal eye, our proper merits, since all others must judge but make the soul lovely and precious in his of us from our outward actions; which can sight, from whom no secrets are concealed. never give them a just estimate of us, since Again, there are many virtues which want an there are many perfections of a man which opportunity of exerting and showing them- are not capable of appearing in actions; many selves in actions. Every virtue requires time which, allowing no natural incapacity of showand place, a proper object and a fit conjunc-ing themselves, want an opportunity of doture of circumstances, for the due exercise of ing it; or should they all meet with an opit. A state of poverty obscures all the virtues portunity of appearing by actions, yet those of liberality and munificence. The patience actions may be misinterpreted, and applied and fortitude of a martyr or confessor lie con- to wrong principles: or though they plainly cealed in the flourishing times of Christianity. discovered the principles from whence they Some virtues are only seen in affliction, and proceeded, they could never show the desome in prosperity; some in a private, and gree, strength, and perfection of those prinothers in a public capacity. But the great ciples. Sovereign of the world beholds every perfec- And as the Supreme Being is the only protion in its obscurity, and not only sees what per judge of our perfections, so is he the only we do, but what we would do. He views our fit rewarder of them. This is a consideration behaviour in every concurrence of affairs, and that comes home to our interest, as the other sees us engaged in all the possibilities of ac-adapts itself to our ambition. And what could tion. He discovers the martyr and confessor the most aspiring, or the most selfish man without the trial of flames and tortures, and desire more, where he to form the notion of a will hereafter entitle many to the reward of Being to whom he would recommend himself, actions, which they had never the opportunity than such a knowledge as can discover the of performing. Another reason why men can- least appearance of perfection in him, and not form a right judgment of us is, because such a goodness as will proportion a reward the same actions may be aimed at different to it? ends, and arise from quite contrary principles. Let the ambitious man therefore turn all his Actions are of so mixt a nature, and so full desire of fame this way; and that he may of circumstances, that as men pry into them propose to himself a fame worthy of his ambimore or less, or observe some parts more than tion, let him consider, that if he employs his others, they take different hints, and put-con- abilities to the best advantage, the time will trary interpretations on them; so that the come when the Supreme Governor of the same actions may represent a man as hypo- world, the great Judge of mankind, who sees critical and designing to one, which make him every degree of perfection in others, and appear a saint or hero to another. He there- possesses all possible perfection in himself, fore who looks upon the soul through its out- shall proclaim his worth before men and anward actions, often sees it through a deceitful gels, and pronounce to him in the presence of medium, which is apt to discolour and pervert the whole creation that best and most signifithe object: so that on this account also, he cant of applauses, 'Well done, thou good and is the only proper judge of our perfections, faithful servant, enter thou into thy Master's who does not guess at the sincerity of our in- joy. C. tentions from the goodness of our actions, but weighs the goodness of our actions by the sincerity of our intentions. No. 258.] Wednesday, December 26, 1711. Divide and rule. But further, it is impossible for outward actions to represent the perfections of the soul, because they cen never show the strength. of those principles from whence they proceed. They are not adequate expressions of our vir- PLEASURE and recreation of one kind or tues, and can only show us what habits are in other are absolutely necessary to relieve our the soul, without discovering the degree and minds and bodies from too constant attention perfection of such habits. They are at best and labour: where therefore public diversions but weak resemblances of our intentions, faint are tolerated, it behoves persons of distinction, and imperfect copies, that may acquaint us with their power and example, to preside over them in such a manner as to check any thing | see something which may improve them in a that tends to the corruption of manners, or way of which they are capable. In short, sir, which is too mean or trivial for the entertain-I would have something done, as well as said, ment of reasonable creatures. As to the di- on the stage. A man may have an active body, versions of this kind in this town, we owe though he has not a quick conception; for them to the arts of poetry and music. My the imitation thereof of such as are, as I may own private opinion, with relation to such re-so speak, corporeal wits, or nimble fellows, I creations, I have heretofore given with all the would fain ask any of the present mismanafrankness imaginable; what concerns those arts gers, why should not rope-dancers, vaulters, at present the reader shall have from my cor- tumblers, ladder-walkers, and posture-masters After such a respondents. The first of the letters with which appear again on our stage? I acquit myself for this day, is written by one representation a five-bar gate would be leapwho proposes to improve our entertainments ed with a better grace next time any of the of dramatic poetry, and the other comes from audience went a hunting. Sir, these things three persons, who, as soon as named, will be cry aloud for reformation, and fall properly thought capable of advancing the present state under the province of Spectator-General; but how indeed should it be otherwise, while fellows (that for twenty years together were never paid but as their master was in the humour) now presume to pay others more than ever they had in their lives: and in contempt of the practice of persons of condition, have the insolence to owe no tradesman a farthing at the end of the week. Sir, all I propose is the public good; for no one can imagine I shall ever get a private shilling by it: therefore I hope you will recommend this matter in one of your this week's papers, and desire when my house opens you will accept the liberty of it for the trouble you have received from, • Sir, of music. 'MR SPECTATOR, 'Your humble servant, 'RALPH CROTCHET.' 'P. S. I have assurances that the trunk-maker will declare for us.'. MR. SPECTATOR, 'I am considerably obliged to you for your speedy publication of my last in yours of the 18th instant, and am in no small hopes of being settled in the post of Comptroller of the Cries. Of all the objections I have hearkened after in public coffee-houses, there is but one that seems to carry any weight with it, viz. That such a post would come too near the nature of a monopoly. Now, sir, because I would have all sorts of people made easy, and being willing to have more strings than one to my bow in case that of comptroller should fail me, I have since formed another project, which being grounded on the dividing of a present monopoly, I hope will give the public an equivalent to their full content. You know, sir, it is allowed, that the business of the stage is, as the Latin has it, jucunda et idonea dicere vitæ. Now there being but one dramatic theatre li'We whose names are subscribed, think you censed for the delight and profit of this exten- the properest person to signify what we have sive metropolis, I do humbly propose for the to offer the town in behalf of ourselves, and convenience of such of its inhabitants as are the art which we profess, music. We conceive too distant from Covent-garden, that another hopes of your favour from the speculations on theatre of ease may be erected in some spa- the mistakes which the town runs into with cious part of the city; and that the direction regard to their pleasure of this kind; and bethereof may be made a franchise in fee to me lieving your method of judging is, that you and my heirs for ever. And that the town consider music only valuable, as it is agreeamay have no jealousy of my ever coming into ble to, and heightens the purpose of poetry, an union with the set of actors now in being, we consent that it is not only the true way of I do further propose to constitute for my depu- relishing that pleasure, but also that without ty my near kinsman and adventurer, Kit Crotch- it a composure of music is the same thing as a et,* whose long experience and improvements poem, where all the rules of poetical numbers in those affairs need no recommendation. It are observed, though the words have no sense was obvious to every spectator, what a quite or meaning; to say it shorter, mere musical different foot the stage was upon during his sounds in our art are no other than nonsense government; and had he not been bolted out verses are in poetry. Music therefore is to of his trap-doors, his garrison might have held aggravate what is intended by poetry; it must out for ever; he having by long pains and per- always have some passion or sentiment to exseverance arrived at the art of making his ar- press, or else violins, voices, or any other ormy fight without pay or provisions. I must gans of sound, afford an entertainment very confess it is with a melancholy amazement, I little above the rattles of children. It was see so wonderful a genius laid aside, and the from this opinion of the matter, that when late slaves of the stage now become its mas- Mr. Clayton had finished his studies in Italy, ters, dunces that will be sure to suppress all and brought over the opera of Arsinoe, that theatrical entertainments and activities that Mr. Haym and Mr. Dieupart, who had the they are not able themselves to shine in! honour to be well known and received among Every man that goes to a play is not obliged the nobility and gentry, were zealously inclinto have either wit or understanding; and Ied to assist by their solicitations, in introducinsist upon it, that all who go there should ing so elegant an entertainment as the Italian Christopher Rich. music grafted upon English poetry. For this end Mr. Dieupart and Mr. Haym, according These one to their several opportunities, promoted the ward civilities and salutations. introduction of Arsinoe, and did it to the best would imagine might be regulated by every advantage so great a novelty would allow. It man's common sense, without the help of an is not proper to trouble you with particulars instructor; but that which we call common of the just complaints we all of us have to sense suffers under that word: for it sometimes make; but so it is, that without regard to our implies no more than that faculty which is obliging pains, we are all equally set aside in common to all men, but sometimes signifies the present opera. Our application therefore right reason, and what all men should consent to you is only to insert this letter in your pa- to. In this latter acceptation of the phrase, it per, that the town may know we have all three is no great wonder people err so much against joined together to make entertainments of music it, since it is not every one who is possessed of for the future at Mr. Clayton's house in York- it, and there are fewer who, against common buildings. What we promise ourselves is, to rules and fashions, dare obey its dictates. As make a subscription of two guineas, for eight to salutations, which I was about to talk of, I times; and that the entertainment, with the observe, as I stroll about town, there are great names of the authors of the poetry, may be enormities committed with regard to this parprinted, to be sold in the house, with an ac- ticular. You shall sometimes see a man begin count of the several authors of the vocal as the offer of a salutation, and observe a forbidwell as the instrumental music for each night; ding air, or escaping eye, in the person he is the money to be paid at the receipt of the going to salute, and stop short in the poll of tickets, at Mr. Charles Lillie's. It will, we his neck. This in the person who believed he hope, sir, be easily allowed, that we are ca- could do it with a good grace, and was refused pable of undertaking to exhibit, by our joint the opportunity, is justly resented with a coldforce and different qualifications, all that can ness the whole ensuing season. Your great be done in music; but lest you should think beauties, people in much favour, or by any so dry a thing as an account of our proposal means or for any purpose over-flattered, are should be a matter unworthy of your paper, apt to practise this, which one may call the which generally contains something of public preventing aspect, and throw their attention use; give us leave to say, that favouring our another way, lest they should confer a bow or design is no less than reviving an art, which a courtesy upon a person who might not appear runs to ruin by the utmost barbarism under an to deserve that dignity. Others you shall find affectation of knowledge. We aim at estab- so obsequious, and so very courteous as there lishing some settled notion of what is music, is no escaping their favours of this kind. Of at recovering from neglect and want very many this sort may be a man who is in the fifth or families who depend upon it, at making all sixth degree of favour with a minister foreigners who pretend to succeed in England good creature is resolved to show the world, to learn the language of it as we ourselves that great honours cannot at all change his have done, and not to be so insolent as to ex- manners; he is the same civil person he ever pect a whole nation, a refined and learned was; he will venture his neck to bow out of a nation, should submit to learn theirs. In a coach in full speed, at once to show he is full of word, Mr. Spectator, with all deference and business, and yet not so taken up as to forget humility, we hope to behave ourselves in this his old friend. With a man who is not so well undertaking in such a manner, that all Eng-formed for courtship and elegant behaviour, lishmen who have any skill in music may be such a gentleman as this seldom finds his acfurthered in it for their profit or diversion by count in the return of his compliments; but what new things we shall produce; never pre- he will still go on, for he is in his own way, tending to surpass others, or asserting that and must not omit; let the neglect fall on any thing which is a science is not attainable your side, or where it will, his business is by all men of all nations who have proper still to be well-bred to the end. I think I have genius for it. We say, sir, what we hope for, read, in one of our English comedies, a it is not expected will arrive to us by contemn-description of a fellow that affected knowing ing others, but through the utmost diligence every body, and for want of judgment in recommending ourselves. T. No. 259.] 'We are, Sir, 'Your most humble servants, 6 NICOLINO HAYM, Thursday, December 27, 1711. Quod decut honestum est, et quod honestum est decut. This time and place, would bow and smile in the face of a judge sitting in the court, would sit in an opposite gallery and smile in the minister's face as he came up into the pulpit, and nod as if he alluded to some familiarities between them in another place. But now I happen to speak of salutation at church, I must take notice that several of my correspondents have importuned me to consider that subject, and settle the point of decorum in that particular. I do not pretend to be the best courtier in What is becoming is honourable, and what is honour-the world, but I have often on public occasions able is becoming. thought it a very great absurdity in the company (during the royal presence) to exchange THERE are some things which cannot come salutations from all parts of the room, when under certain rules, but which one would think certainly common sense should suggest, that could not need them. Of this kind are out- all regards at that time should be engaged, VOL. I. 43 and cannot be diverted to any other object, dress, and as flippant, if I see a pretty woman without disrespect to the sovereign. But as as when in my youth I stood upon a bench in to the complaint of my correspondents, it is the pit to survey the whole circle of beauties. not to be imagined what offence some of them The folly is so extravagant with me, and I take at the custom of saluting in places of wor- went on with so little check of my desires, or ship. I have a very angry letter from a lady, resignation of them, that I can assure you, who tells me of one of her acquaintance, who, I very often, merely to entertain my own out of mere pride and a pretence to be rude, thoughts, sit with my spectacles on, writing takes upon her to return no civilities done to love-letters to the beauties that have been her in the time of divine service, and is the long since in their graves. This is to warm most religious woman, for no other reason but my heart with the faint memory of delights to appear a woman of the best quality in the which were once agreeable to me; but how church. This absurd custom had better be much happier would my life have been now, abolished than retained; if it were but to pre- if I could have looked back on any worthy acvent evils of no higher a nature than this is; tion done for my country? if I had laid out but I am informed of objections much more that which I profused in luxury and wantonconsiderable. A dissenter of rank and dis-ness, in acts of generosity or charity? I have tinction was lately prevailed upon by a friend lived a bachelor to this day; and instead of a of his to come to one of the greatest congre- numerous offspring, with which in the regular gations of the church of England about town. ways of life I might possibly have delighted After the service was over, he declared he was myself, I have only to amuse myself with the very well satisfied with the little ceremony repetition of old stories and intrigues which which was used towards God Almighty; but no one will believe I ever was concerned in. at the same time he feared he should not be I do not know whether you have ever treated able to go through those required towards one of it or not; but you cannot fall on a better another; as to this point he was in a state of subject, than that of the art of growing old. despair, and feared he was not well-bred In such a lecture you must propose, that no enough to be a convert. There have been one set his heart upon what is transient; the many scandals of this kind given to our pro- beauty grows wrinkled while we are yet gaztestant dissenters, from the outward pomp ing at her. The witty man sinks into an huand respect we take to ourselves in our reli mourist imperceptibly, for want of reflecting gious assemblies. A quaker who came one that all things around him are in a flux, and day into a church, fixed his eye upon an old continually changing: thus he is in the space lady with a carpet larger than that from the of ten or fifteen years surrounded by a new pulpit before her, expecting when she would set of people, whose manners are as natural hold forth. An anabaptist who designs to to them as his delights, method of thinking, come over himself, and all his family, within and mode of living, were formerly to him and a few months, is sensible they want breeding his friends. But the mischief is, he looks upenough for our congregations, and has sent his on the same kind of errors which he himself two eldest daughters to learn to dance, that was guilty of with an eye of scorn, and with they may not misbehave at church. It is that sort of ill-will which men entertain against worth considering whether, in regard to awk- each other for different opinions. Thus a crazy ward people with scrupulous consciences, constitution, and an uneasy mind is fretted a good christian of the best air in the world with vexatious passions for young men's doing ought not rather to deny herself the opportu- foolishly, what it is folly to do at all. Dear nity of showing so many graces, than keep a sir, this is my present state of mind; I hate bashful proselyte without the pale of the church. those I should laugh at, and envy those I contemn. The time of youth and vigorous manhood, passed the way in which I have disposed of it, is attended with these consequences; but to those who live and pass away life as they ought, all parts of it are equally pleasant; only the memory of good and worthy actions is a feast which must give a quicker relish to the soul than ever it could possibly taste in the highest enjoyments or jollities of youth. As for me, if I sit down in my great chair and begin to ponder, the vagaries of a child are not more ridiculous than the circumstances which are heaped up in my memory; fine gowns, country dances, ends of tunes, interrupted conversations, and midnight quarrels, are what must necessarily compose my soliloquy. I beg of you to print this, that some ladies of my acquaintance, and my years, may be persuaded to wear warm night-caps this cold seaton: and that my old friend Jack Tawdry may buy him a cane, and not creep with the air of a strut. I must add to all this, that if it it were not for one pleasure, which I thought No 260.] Friday, December 28, 1711. T. Singula de nobis anni prædantur euntes. 6 MR. SPECTATOR, 'I AM now in the sixty-fifth year of my age, and having been the greater part of my days a man of pleasure, the decay of my faculties is a stagnation of my life. But how is it, sir, that my appetites are increased upon me with the loss of power to gratify them? I write this like a criminal, to warn people to enter upon what reformation they please to make in themselves in their youth, and not expect they shall be capable of it from a fond opinion some have often in their mouths, that if we do not leave our desires, they will leave us. It is far otherwise; I am now as vain in my |