'I am ever the humblest of your admirers, 'JOSIAH FRIBBLE, ESQ. rities, which my correspondent enclosed with are any precedents for this usage, among our his letter. ancestors; or whether you find any mention of The wise Providence has amply compen- pin-money in Grotius, Puffendorf, or any other sated the disadvantages of the poor and indi- of the civilians. gent, in wanting many of the conveniences of this life, by a more abundant provision for their happiness in the next. Had they been higher born, or more richly endowed, they As there is no man living who is a more would have wanted this manner of education, professed advocate for the fair-sex than my. of which those only enjoy the benefit, who are self, so there is none that would be more unlow enough to submit to it; where they have willing to invade any of their ancient rights such advantages without money, and without and privileges; but as the doctrine of pinprice, as the rich cannot purchase with it. money is of a late date, unknown to our great The learning which is given is generally more grand-mothers, and not yet received by maedifying to them, than that which is sold to ny of our modern ladies, I think it is for others. Thus do they become more exalted the interest of both sexes to keep it from in goodness, by being depressed in fortune, spreading. and their poverty is, in reality, their preferment.' Thursday, February 7, 1711-12. T. No. 295.] But womankind, that never knows a mean, ance. MR. SPECTATOR, Dryden. Mr. Fribble may not, perhaps, be much mistaken where he intimates, that the supplying a man's wife with pin-money, is furnishing her with arms against himself, and in a manner becoming accessary to his own dishonour. We may, indeed, generally observe, that in proportion as a woman is more or less beautiful, and her husband advanced in years, she stands in need of a greater or less number of pins, and upon a treaty of marriage, rises or falls in her demands accordingly. It must likewise be owned, that high quality in a mistress does very much inflame this article in the marriagereckoning. But where the age and circumstances of both I AM tarned of my great climacteric, and parties are pretty much upon a level, I cannot am naturally a man of a meek temper. About but think the insisting upon pin-money is very a dozen years ago I was married, for my sins, extraordinary; and yet we find several matches to a young woman of a good family, and of an broken off upon this very head. What would high spirit; but could not bring her to close a foreigner, or one who is a stranger to this with me, before I had entered into a treaty practice, think of a lover that forsakes his with her longer than that of the grand alli-mistress, because he is not willing to keep her Among other articles, it was therein in pins? But what would he think of the misstipulated, that she should have 4001. a year tress, should he be informed that she asks five for pin-money, which I obliged myself to pay or six hundred pounds a year for this use? quarterly into the hands of one, who acted as Should a man unacquainted with our customs her plenipotentiary in that affair. I have ever be told the sums which are allowed in Great since religiously observed my part in this sol- Britain, under the title of pin-money, what a emn agreement. Now, sir, so it is, that the prodigious consumption of pins would he think lady has had several children since I married there was in this island. A pin a day,' says her; to which, if I should credit our malicious our frugal proverb, is a groat a year: so neighbours, her pin-money has not a little that, according to this calculation, my friend contributed. The education of these my chil-Fribble's wife must every year make use of dren, who, contrary to my expectation, are eight millions six hundred and forty thousand born to me every year, straitens me so much, new pins. that I have begged their mother to free me I am not ignorant that our British ladies from the obligation of the above-mentioned allege they comprehend under this general pin-money, that it may go towards making a term, several other conveniencies of life: 1 provision for her family. This proposal makes could therefore wish, for the honour of my her noble blood swell in her veins, insomuch, countrywomen, that they had rather called it that finding me a little tardy in my last quar-needle-money, which might have implied someter's payment, she threatens me every day to thing of good housewifery, and not have given arrest me; and proceeds so far as to tell me, the malicious world occasion to think, that that if I do not do her justice, I shall die in dress and trifles have always the uppermost a jail. To this she adds, when her passion will place in a woman's thoughts. let her argue calmly, that she has several play- I know several of my fair readers urge, in debts on her hand, which must be discharged defence of this practice, that it is but a necesvery suddenly, and that she cannot lose her sary provision they make for themselves, in money as becomes a woman of her fashion, if case their husband proves a churl, or a miser; she makes me any abatement in this article. I so that they consider this allowance as a kind hope, sir, you will take an occasion from hence of alimony, which they may lay their claim to, to give your opinion upon a subject which you without actually separating from their hushave not yet touched, and inform us if there bands. But with submission, I think a wo man who will give up herself to a man in always adds, that though he did not care for marriage, where there is the least room fine clothes himself, there should not have for such an apprehension, and trust her per- been a woman in the country better dressed son to one whom she will not rely on for than my lady Coverley. Sir Roger, perhaps the common necessaries of life, may very pro- may in this, as well as in many other of his perly be accused (in the phrase of an home-devices, appear something odd and singular; ly proverb,) of being 'penny wise and pound but if the humour of pin-money prevails, Í think it would be very proper for every gentleIt is observed of over-cautious generals, that man of an estate, to mark out so many acres. they never engage in a battle without securing of it under the title of 'The Pins.' foolish.' a retreat, in case the event should not answer L. -Nugis addere pondus. Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xix. 42. Add weight to trifles. 'DEAR SPEC, their expectations; on the other hand, the No. 296.] Friday, February 8, 1711-12. greatest conquerers have burnt their ships, or broke down the bridges behind them, as being determined either to succeed or die in the engagement. In the same manner I should very much suspect a woman who takes such precautions for her retreat, and contrives methods how she may live happily, without the affec'HAVING lately conversed much with the tion of one to whom she joins herself for life. fair-sex on the subject of your speculations Separate purses between man and wife are, (which, since their appearance in public, have in my opinion, as unnatural as separate beds. been the chief exercise of the female loquatious A marriage cannot be happy, where the plea-faculty) I found the fair-ones possessed with a sures, inclinations, and interests of both par- dissatisfaction at your prefixing Greek mottos ties are not the same. There is no greater to the frontispieces of your late paper; and, incitement to love in the mind of man, than as a man of gallantry, I thought it a duty inthe sense of a person's depending upon him for cumbent on me to impart it to you, in hopes her ease and happiness; as a woman uses all of a reformation, which is only to be effected her endeavours to please the person whom she by a restoration of the Latin to the usual diglooks upon as her honour, her comfort, and nity in your papers, which, of late, the Greek, her support. to the great displeasure of your female readers, For this reason I am not very much sur- has usurped; for though the Latin has the prised at the behaviour of a rough country recommendation of being as unintelligible to 'squire, who, being not a little shocked at the them as the Greek, yet being written of the proceeding of a young widow that would not same character with their mother tongue, by recede from her demands of pin-money, was the assistance of a spelling-book it is legible; so enraged at her mercenary temper, that he which quality the Greek wants: and since the told her in great wrath, As much as she introduction of operas into this nation, the thought him her slave, he would show all the ladies are so charmed with sounds abstracted world he did not care a pin for her.' Upon from their ideas, that they adore and honour which she flew out of the room, and never saw the sound of Latin, as it is old Italian. I am a solicitor for the fair-sex, and therefore think myself in that character more likely to be prevalent in this request, than if I should subscribe myself by my proper name. her more. ney! SIR, J. M.' Socrates in Plato's Alcibiades says, he was informed by one who had travelled through Persia, that as he passed over a great tract of land, and inquired what the name of the place 'I desire you may insert this in one of your was, they told him it was the Queen's Girdle: speculations, to show my zeal for removing the to which he adds, that another wide field which dissatisfaction of the fair-sex, and restoring lay by it, was called the Queen's Veil; and that you to their favour.' in the same manner there was a large portion of ground set aside for every part of her majesty's dress. These lands might not be im'I was some time since in company with a properly called the Queen of Persia's pin-mo-young officer, who entertained us with the conquest he had made over a female neighI remember my friend Sir Roger, who I bour of his; when a gentleman who stood by dare say, never read this passage in Plato told as I suppose, envying the captain's good forme some time since, that upon his courting tune, asked him what reason he had to believe the perverse widow (of whom I have given an the lady admired him? "Why," says he, “my account in former papers) he had disposed of lodgings are opposite to hers, and she is conan hundred acres in a diamond ring, which he tinually at her window, either at work, reading, would have presented her with, had she thought taking snuff, or putting herself in some toying fit to accept it: and that upon her wedding-posture on purpose to draw my eyes that way.' day, she should have carried on her head fifty The confession of this vain soldier made me of the tallest oaks upon his estate.. He further reflect on some of my own actions; for you informed me, that he would have given her a must know, sir, I am often at a window which coal-pit to keep her in clean linen, that he fronts the apartments of several gentlemen, would have allowed her the profits of a wind-who I doubt not have the same opinion of me. mill for her fans, and have presented her once I must own I love to look at them all, one for in three years, with the shearing of his sheep being well dressed, a second for his fine eyes for her under-petticoats. To which the knight and one particular one, because he is the least VOL. I. 49 man I ever saw; but there is something so all the time. Some, who pretend to be my easy and pleasant in the manner of my little friends tell me that they do it in derision, and man, that I observe he is a favourite of all his would advise me to leave it off, withal that I acquaintance. I could go on to tell you of make myself ridiculous. I do not know what many others, that I believe think I have en-to do in this affair, but I am resolved not to couraged them from my window: but pray let give over upon any account, until I have the me have your opinion of the use of the window, opinion of the Spectator, in the apartment of a beautiful lady; and how often she may look out at the same man, without being supposed to have a mind to jump out to him. Your's, 'AURELIA CARELESS.' MR. SPECTATOR, Your humble servant, JOHN TROTT.' If Mr. Trott is not awkward out of time, he has a right to dance let who will laugh; but if he has no ear he will interrupt others: and I am of opinion he should sit still. Given under my hand this fifth of February, 1711-12. T. THE SPECTATOR. -velut si 'I have for some time made love to a lady, who received it with all the kind returns I ought to expect; but without any provocation, No 297.] Saturday, February 9, 1711-12. that I know of, she has of late shunned me with the utmost abhorrence, insomuch that she went out of church last Sunday in the midst of divine service, upon my coming into the same pew. Pray, sir, what must I do in this business? Your servant, 'EUPHUES! Let her alone ten days. MR. SPECTATOR, York, Jan. 20 1711-12. 'We have in this town a sort of people who pretend to wit, and write lampoons; I have lately been the subject of one of them. The scribbler had not genius enough in verse to turn my age, as indeed I am an old maid, into raillery, for effecting a youthier turn than is consistent with my time of day; and therefore he makes the title of his madrigal. The character of Mrs. Judith Lovebane, born in the year 1680. What I desire of you is, that you disallow that a coxcomb, who pretends to write verse, should put the most malicious thing he can say in prose. This I humbly conceive will disable our country wits, who indeed take a great deal of pains to say any thing in rhyme, though they say it very ill. I am, Sir, Your humble servant, 'SUSANNA LOVEBANE.' MR. SPECTATOR, 'We are several of us, gentleman and ladies, who board in the same house, and after dinner one of our company (an agreeable man enough otherwise) stands up, and reads your paper to us all. We are the civilest people in the world to one another, and therefore I am forced to this way of desiring our reader, when he is doing this office, not to stand afore the fire. This will be a general good to our family, this cold weather. He will, I know, take it to be our common request when he comes to these words, Pray, sir, sit down;" which I desire you to insert, and you will particularly oblige Your daily reader, 'CHARITY FROST.' 66 Egregio inspersos reprendas corpore nævos. AFTER what I have said in my last Saturday's paper, I shall enter on the subject of this without further preface, and remark the several defects which appear in the fable, the characters, the sentiments, and the language of Milton's Paradise Lost; not doubting but the reader will pardon me, if I allege at the same time whatever may be said for the extenuation of such defects. The first imperfection which I shall observe in the fable is, that the event of it is unhappy. The fable of every poem is, according to Aristotle's division, either simple or implex. It is called simple when there is no change of fortune in it; implex, when the fortune of the chief actor changes from bad to good, or from good to bad. The implex fable is thought the most perfect: I suppose, because it is more proper to stir up the passions of the reader, and to surprise him with a greater variety of accidents. The implex fable is therefore of two kinds, in the first, the chief actor makes his way through a long series of dangers and difficulties, until he arrives at honour and prosperity, as we see in the stories of Ulysses and Æneas; in the second, the chief actor in the poem falls from some eminent pitch of honour and prosperity, into misery and disgrace. Thus we see Adam and Eve sinking from a state of innocence and happiness, into the most abject condition of sin and sorrow. The most taking tragedies among the ancients, were built on this last sort of implex fable, particularly the tragedy of Edipus, which proceeds upon a story, if we may believe Aristotle, the most proper for tragedy that could be invented by the wit of man. I have taken some pains in a former paper to show, that this kind of implex fable, wherein the event is unhappy, is more apt to affect an audience than that of the first kind; notwithI am a great lover of dancing, but cannot standing many excellent pieces among the anperform so well as some others; however, by cients, as well as most of those which have my out-of-the-way capers, and some original been written of late years in our own country grimaces, I do not fail to divert the company are raised upon contrary plans. I must howparticular the ladies, who laugh immoderately ever own, that I think this kind of fable, which SIR. is the most perfect in tragedy, is not so proper for an heroic poem. If the reader would be at the pains to see how the story of the Iliad and the Æneid is Milton seems to have been sensible of this delivered by those persons who act in it, he imperfection in his fable, and has therefore will be surprised to find how little either of endeavoured to cure it by several expedients; these poems proceeds from the authors. Milparticularly by the mortification which the ton has, in the general disposition of his fagreat adversary of mankind meets with upon ble, very finely observed this great rule; inhis return to the assembly of infernal spirits somuch that there is scarce a tenth part of it as it is described in a beautiful passage of the which comes from the poet; the rest is spoken third book; and likewise by the vision wherein either by Adam or Eve, or by some good or Adam, at the close of the poem, sees his off-evil spirit who is engaged either in their desspring, triumphing over his great enemy, and truction or defence. himself restored to a happier paradise than that from which he fell. From what has been here observed it appears, that digressions are by no means to be There is another objection against Milton's allowed of in an epic poem. If the poet, even fable, which is indeed almost the same with in the ordinary course of his narration, the former, though placed in a different light, should speak as little as possible, he should namely―That the hero in the Paradise Lost certainly never let his narration sleep for the is unsuccessful, and by no means a match for sake of any reflections of his own. I have his enemies. This gave occasion to Mr. Dry- often observed, with a secret admiration, that dens's reflection, that the devil was in reality the longest reflection in the Æneid is in that Milton's hero. I think I have obviated this passage of the tenth book, where Turnus is objection in my first paper. The Paradise represented as dressing himself in the spoils Lost is an epic, or a narrative poem, and he of Pallas, whom he had slain. Virgil here that looks for an hero in it, searches for that lets his fable stand still, for the sake of the which Milton never intended; but if he will following remark. 'How is the mind of man needs fix the name of an hero upon any per- ignorant of fu'urity, and unable to bear prosson in it, it is certainly the Messiah who is the perous fortune with moderation! The time will hero, both in the principal action, and in the come when Turnus shall wish that he . chief episodes. Paganism could not furnish had left the body of Pallas untouched, and out a real action for a fable greater than that curse the day on which he dressed himself of the Iliad or Æneid, and therefore an hea- in these spoils.' As the great event of the then could not form an higher notion of a poem Æneid, and the death of Turnus, whom Æneas than one of that kind, which they call an he- slew because he saw him adorned with the roic. Whether Milton's is not of a sublimer spoils of Pallas, turns upon this incident, nature I will not presume to determine; it is Virgil went out of his way to make this resufficient that I show there is in the Paradise Lost all the greatness of plan, regularity of design, and masterly beauties which we discover in Homer and Virgil. flection upon it, without which so small a circumstance might possibly have slipt out of his reader's memory. Lucan, who was an injudicious poet, lets drop his story very frequently for the sake of his unnecessary digressions, I must in the next place observe, that Milton has interwoven in the texture of his fable or his diverticula, as Scaliger some particulars which do not seem to have calls them. If he gives us an account of the probability enough for an epic poem, particu- prodigies which precede the civil war, he delarly in the actions which he ascribes to Sin claims upon the occasion, and shows how and Death, and the picture which he draws of much happier it would be for man, if he the Limbo of Vanity' with other passages did not feel his evil fortune before it comes in the second book. Such allegories rather to pass; and suffer not only by its real weight, savour of the spirit of Spencer and Ariosto, but by the apprehension of it. Milton's comthan of Homer and Virgil. plaint for his blindness, his panegyric on marIn the structure of his poem he has likewise riage, his reflections on Adam and Eve's admitted too many digressions. It is finely going naked, of the angels eating, and seobserved by Aristotle, that the author of an veral other passages in his poem, are liable heroic poem should seldom speak himself, but to the same exception, though I must confess throw as much of his work as he can into the there is so great a beauty in these very dimouths of those who are his principal actors.gressions, that I would not wish them out of Aristotle has given no reason for this precept: his poem. but I presume it is because the mind of the I have in a former paper spoken of the reader is more awed and elevated, when he characters of Milton's Paradise Lost, and hears Eneas or Achilles speak, than when declared my opinion, as to the allegorical Virgil or Homer talk in their own persons. persons who are introduced in it. Besides that assuming the character of an If we look into the sentiments, I think they eminent man is apt to fire the imagination, are sometimes defective under the following and raise the ideas of the author. Tully tells heads; first, as there are several of them too us, mentioning his dialogue of old age, in much pointed, and some that degenerate even which Cato is the chief speaker, that upon into puns. Of this last kind I am afraid is a review of it he was agreeably imposed up- that in the first book, where, speaking of the on, and fancied that it was Cato, and not he pygmies, he calls them himself, who uttered his thoughts on that subject The small infantry 'Tack to the larboard, and stand off to sea, Another blemish that appears in some of his nary readers: besides that the knowledge of thoughts, is his frequent allusion to heathen a poet should rather seem born with him, or fables, which are not certainly of a piece with inspired, than drawn from books and systems. the divine subject of which he treats. I do I have often wondered how Mr. Dryden could not find fault with these allusions where the translate a passage out of Virgil after the folpoet himself represents them as fabulous, as lowing manner: he does in some places, but where he mentions them as truths and matters of fact. The limits of my paper will not give me leave to be particular in instances of this kind; the Milton makes use of larboard in the same reader will easily remark them in his perusal manner. When he is upon building, he menof the poem. tions doric pillars, pilasters, cornice, freeze, A third fault in his sentiments is an unne-architrave. When he talks of heavenly bocessary ostentation of learning, which like- dies, you meet with ecliptic and eccentric, wise occurs very frequently. It is certain the trepidation, stars dropping from the zethat both Homer and Virgil were masters nith, rays culminating from the equator: to of all the learning of their times, but it shows which might be added many instances of the itself in their works after an indirect and like kind in several other arts and sciences. concealed manner. Milton seems ambitious I shall in my next papers give an account of letting us know, by his excursions on free-of the many particular beauties in Milton, will and predestination, and his many glances which would have been too long to insert upon history, astronomy, geography, and under those general heads I have already the like, as well as by the terms and phrases treated of, and with which I intend to conclude he sometimes makes use of, that he was ac- this piece of criticism. quainted with the whole circle of arts and sciences. L. No. 298.] Monday, February 11, 1711-12. MR. SPECTATOR London, Leo. 9, 1711-12. If in the last place we consider the language of this great poet, we must allow what I have hinted in a former paper, that it is often too much laboured, and sometimes obscured by old words, transpositions, and foreign idioms. Seneca's objection to the style of a great author. ' Riget ejus oratio, nihil in ea 'I AM a virgin, and in no case despicable; placidum, nihil lene,' is what many critics but yet such as I am I must remain, or else bemake to Milton. As I cannot wholly refute come, it is to be feared, less happy; for I find it, so I have already apologized for it in ano-not the least good effect from the just correcther paper: to which I may further add, that tion you some time since gave that too free, Milton's sentiments and ideas were so won- that looser part of our sex which spoils the derfully sublime, that it would have been im- men; the same connivance at the vices, the possible for him to have represented them in same easy admittance of addresses, the same their full strength and beauty, without having vitiated relish of the conversation of the recourse to these foreign assistances. Our greatest rakes (or, in a more fashionable language sunk under him, and was unequal way of expressing one's self, of such as have to that greatness of soul which furnished him seen the world most) still abounds, increases, with such glorious conceptions. multiplies. others: And brought into the world a world of woe. Beseeching or besieging This tempted our attempt At one slight bound high overleapt all bound. A second fault in his language is, that he The humble petition, therefore, of many often affects a kind of jinjle in his words, of the most strictly virtuous and of myself is, as in the following passages, and many that you will once more exert your authority, and that according to your late promise, your full, your impartial authority, on this sillier branch of our kind; for why should they be the uncontrollable mistresses of our fate? Why should they with impunity indulge the males in licentiousness whilst single, and we have the dismal hazard and plague of reformI know there are figures for this kind of ing them when married? Strike home, sir, speech; that some of the greatest ancients then, and spare not, or all our maiden hopes, have been guilty of it, and that Aristotle him- our gilded hopes of nuptial felicity are frus self has given it a place in his rhetoric among trated, are vanished, and you yourself, as well the beauties of that art. But as it is in it-as Mr. Courtly, will, by smoothing over imself poor and trifling, it is, I think, at pre-modest practices with the gloss of soft and sent universally exploded by all the masters harmless names, for ever forfeit our esteem. Nor think that I am herein more severe than of polite writing. The last fault which I shall take notice of need be: if I have not reason more than in Milton's style, is the frequent use of what enough, do you and the world judge from this the learned call technical words, or terms of ensuing account, which, I think will prove the art. It is one of the greatest beauties of evil to be universal. poetry, to make hard things intelligible, and You must know then, that since your reto deliver what is abstruse of itself in such prehension of this female degeneracy came easy language as may be understood by ordi-out, I have had a tender of respects from no |