there be any occasion, wherein they may ady asks for a thing, I hear, and have No. 138.] Wednesday, August 8, 1711. PATIENCE GIDDY.' a narration, whether it concerns the main There is something very unaccountable, end or not. A gentleman whom I had the to them in their private persons, as well as He was going on to settle the geography at this odd turn of head which can play | is really no such thing as colour in nature; away its words, with uttering nothing to in a word, they can turn what little knowthe purpose, still observing its own im- ledge they have into a ready capacity of pertinences, and yet proceeding in them. raising doubts; into a capacity of being alI do not question but he informed the rest ways frivolous and always unanswerable. of his audience, who had more patience It was of two disputants of this impertinent than I,.of the birth and parentage, as well and laborious kind that the cynic said, as the collateral alliances of his family who One of these fellows is milking a ram, and made the repartee, and of him who pro- the other holds the pail.' voked him to it. It is no small misfortune to any who have a just value for their time, when this quality of being so very circumstantial, and careful to be exact, happens to show itself in a man whose quality obliges them to attend his proofs, that it is now day, and the like. But this is augmented when the same genius gets into authority, as it often does. Nay, I have known it more than once ascend the very pulpit. One of this sort taking it in his head to be a great admirer of Dr. Tillotson and Dr. Beveridge, never failed of proving out of these great authors things which no man living would have denied him upon his own single authority. One day resolving to come to the point in hand, he said, according to that excellent divine, I will enter upon the matter, or in his words, in his fifteenth sermon of the folio edition, page 160, "I shall briefly explain the words, and then consider the matter contained in them." This honest gentleman needed not, one would think, strain his modesty so far as to alter his design of entering upon the matter,' to that of briefly explaining.' But so it was, that he would not even be contented with that authority, but added also the other divine to strengthen his method, and told us, with the pious and learned Dr. Beveridge, page 4th of his ninth volume, "I shall endeavour to make it as plain as I can from the words which I have now read, wherein for that purpose we shall consider- This wiseacre was reckoned by the parish, who did not understand him, a most excellent preacher; but that he read too much, and was so humble that he did not trust enough to his own parts. ADVERTISEMENT. 'The exercises of the snuff-box, according to the most fashionable airs and motions, in opposition to the exercise of the fan, will be taught with the best plain or perfumed snuff, at Charles Lillie's, per fumer, at the corner of Beaufort-buildings, in the Strand, and attendance given for the benefit of the young merchants about the Exchange for two hours every day at noon, except Saturdays, at a toy-shop, near Gar raway's coffee-house. There will be likewise taught the ceremony of the snuff-box, or rules for offering snuff to a stranger, a friend, or a mistress, according to the degree of familiarity or distance; with an explanation of the careless, the scornful, the politic, and the surly pinch, and the ges tures proper to each of them. "N. B. The undertaker does not ques tion but in a short time to have formed a body of regular snuff-boxes ready to meet and make head against all the regiment of fans which have been lately disciplined, and are now in motion.' No. 139.] Thursday, August 9, T. 1711. ficta omnia celeriter, tanquam flosculi, decidunt, nec Vera gloria radices agit, atque etiam propagatur simulatum potest quidquam esse diuturnum. Tall True glory takes root, and even spreads: all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long. Of all the affections which attend human life, the love of glory is the most ar dent. According as this is cultivated in princes, it produces the greatest good or the greatest evil. Where sovereigns have it by impressions received from education only, it creates an ambitious rather than a Next to these ingenious gentlemen, who noble mind; where it is the natural bent of argue for what nobody can deny them, are the prince's inclination, it prompts him to to be ranked a sort of people who do not in- the pursuit of things truly glorious. The deed attempt to prove insignificant things, two greatest men now in Europe (according but are ever labouring to raise arguments to the common acceptation of the word with you about matters you will give up great) are Lewis King of France, and to them without the least controversy. One Peter Emperor of Russia. As it is certain of these people told a gentleman who said that all fame does not arise from the prac he saw Mr. Such-a-One go this morning tice of virtue, it is, methinks, no unpleas at nine of the clock towards the Gravel-ing amusement to examine the glory of pits: Sir, I must beg your pardon for that, these potentates, and distinguish that which for though I am very loth to have any dis- is empty, perishing, and frivolous, from pute with you, yet, I must take the liberty what is solid, lasting, and important. to tell you, it was nine when I saw him at St. James's. When men of this genius are pretty far gone in learning they will put you to prove that snow is white, and when you are upon that topic can say that there Lewis of France had his infancy attended by crafty and worldly men, who made extent of territory the most glorious instance of power, and mistook the spreading of fame for the acquisition of honour. The young monarch's heart was by such con- grace? Who ever thought himself mean be held polite, and the honest labours of Though men may impose upon them- Peter Alexovitz of Russia, when he came to years of manhood, though he Found himself emperor of a vast and nunerous people, master of an endless territory, absolute commander of the lives and fortunes of his subjects, in the midst of this The perfection of glory, says Tully, conunbounded power and greatness, turned his sists in these three particulars; That the thoughts upon himself and people with sor-people love us; that they have confidence row. Sordid ignorance and a brute manner in us; that being affected with a certain of life, this generous prince beheld and con- admiration towards us, they think we deemned, from the light of his own genius. serve honour.' This was spoken of greatHis judgment suggested this to him, and his ness in a commonwealth. But if one were Courage prompted him to amend it. In to form a notion of consummate glory order to this, he did not send to the nation under our constitution, one must add to the From whence the rest of the world has bor- above-mentioned felicities a certain necesowed its politeness, but himself left his sary in existence, and disrelish of all the iadem to learn the true way to glory and rest, without the prince's favour. He onour, and application to useful arts, should, methinks, have riches, power, hoherein to employ the laborious, the sim-nour, command, and glory; but riches, ple, the honest part of his people. Me- power, honour, command, and glory, chanic employments and operations were should have no charms, but as accompa ery justly the first objects of his favour nd observation. With this glorious inention he travelled into foreign nations in n obscure manner, above receiving little onours where he sojourned, but prying to what was of more consequence, their rts of peace and of war. By this means has is great prince laid the foundation of a reat and lasting fame, by personal labour, ersonal knowledge, personal valour. It ould be injury to any of antiquity to name em with him. Who, but himself, ever ft a throne to learn to sit in it with more But let us consider what is truly glorious nied with the affection of his prince. He Blenheim, in 1704, were fixed up in Westminster-hall དསབགཏུག posed and circumstantiated, and if he were so made for power without a capacity of giving jealousy, he would be also glorious without the possibility of receiving disgrace. This humility and this importance must make his glory immortal. These thoughts are apt to draw me beyond the usual length of this paper; but if I could suppose such rhapsodies could outlive the common fate of ordinary things, I would say these sketches and faint images of glory were drawn in August, 1711, when John Duke of Marlborough made that memorable march wherein he took the French lines without bloodshed. No. 140.] Friday, August 10, 1711. T. wish you would take some other opportunity to express further the corrupt taste the age has run into; which I am chiefly apt to attribute to the prevalency of a few popular authors, whose merit in some respects has given a sanction to their faults in others. Thus the imitators of Milton seem to place all the excellency of that sort of writing either in the uncouth or antique words, or something else which was highly vicious, though pardonable in that great man. The admirers of what we call point, or turn, look upon it as the particular happiness to which Cowley, Ovid, and others, owe their reputation, and therefore endeavour to imitate them only in such instances What is just, proper, and natural, does not seem to be the question with them, but by what means a quaint antithesis may be brought about, how one word may be made to look two ways, and what will be the con sequence of a forced allusion. Now though such authors appear to me to resemble those who make themselves fine, instead of being well-dressed, or graceful; yet the mischief is, that these beauties in them, which I call blemishes, are thought to proceed from luxuriance of fancy, and overread-flowing of good sense. In one word, they have the character of being too witty: but if you would acquaint the world they are not witty at all, you would, among many others, oblige, sir, your most benevolent reader, R. D.' -Animum curis nunc huc, nunc dividit illuc. This way and that the anxious mind is torn. WHEN I acquaint my reader, that I have many other letters not yet acknowledged, I believe he will own, what I have a mind he should believe, that I have no small charge upon me, but am a person of some consequence in this world. I shall therefore employ the present hour only in ing petitions in the order as follows. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I have lost so much time already, that I desire, upon the receipt hereof, you will sit down immediately and give me your answer. And I would know of you whether a pretender of mine really loves me. As well as I describe his manners. When he sees me is always talking of constancy, but vouch-tween me and a cousin of mine, who is alsafes to visit me but once a fortnight, and ways contradicting one because he underthen he is always in haste to be gone. with a single or a double P? I am, sir, stands Latin: pray, sir, is Dimple spelt When I am sick, I hear he says he is mightily concerned, but neither comes nor sends, your very humble servant, because, as he tells his acquaintance with a sigh, he does not care to let me know all the power I have over him, and how impossible it is for him to live without me.. When he leaves the town he writes once in six weeks, desires to hear from me, complains of the torment of absence, speaks of flames, tortures, languishings, and ecstasies. He has the cant of an impatient lover, but keeps the pace of a lukewarm one. You know I must not go faster than he SIR,-I am a young woman, and reckoned pretty; therefore you will pardon me I will can that I trouble you to decide a wager be does, and to move at this rate is as tedious as counting a great clock. But you are to know he is rich, and my mother says, as he is slow he is sure; he will love me long if he love me little: but I appeal to you whether he loves at all. Your neglected humble servant, LYDIA NOVELL.' All these fellows who have money are extremely saucy and cold; pray, sir, tell them of it.' MR. SPECTATOR,-I have been delighted with nothing more through the whole course of your writings than the substantial account you lately gave of wit, and I could 'BETTY SAUNTER.' 'Pray, sir, direct thus, "To the kind Querist," and leave it at Mr. Lillie's, for! do not care to be known in the thing at all. I am, sir, again, your humble servant. MR. SPECTATOR,-I must needs tell not much like. You are often so nice, there you there are several of your papers I do is no enduring you; and so learned, there is no with our petticoats? Your humble servant, understanding you. What have you to do 'PARTHENOPE.' 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Last night,, as I was walking in the Park, I met a couple of friends. Pr'ythee, Jack," says one of them, "let us go drink a glass of wine, for I am fit for nothing else." This put me upon reflecting on the many miscarriages which happen in conversations over wine, when men go to the bottle to remove such humours as it only stirs up and awakens This I could not attribute more to any thing than to the humour of putting com pany upon others which men do not like themselves. Pray, sir, declare in your papers, that he who is a troublesome com- sent ignorance, may be thought a good vant.' 'SIR,-I this morning cast my eye upon your paper concerning the expence of time. You are very obliging to the women, especially those who are not young and past gallantry, by touching so gently upon gaming: therefore I hope you do not think it wrong to employ a little leisure time in that diversion; but I should be glad to hear you say something upon the behaviour of some of the female gamesters. presage and earnest of improvement, you servant, This last letter is written with so urgent and serious an air, that I cannot but think it incumbent upon me to comply with her commands, which I shall do very suddenly. T. 'I have observed ladies, who in all other respects are gentle, good-humoured, and the very pinks of good-breeding; who as soon as the ombre-table is called for and sit down to their business, are immediately transmigrated into the veriest wasps in No. 141.] Saturday, August 11, 1711. nature. 'You must know I keep my temper, and win their money; but am out of countenance to take it, it makes them so very uneasy. Be pleased, dear sir, to instruct them to lose with a better grace, and you will'oblige, Yours, RACHEL BASTO.' your own 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Your kindness to Leonora, in one of your papers, has given me encouragement to do myself the honour of writing to you. The great regard you have so often expressed for the instruction and improvement of our sex will I hope, in opinion, sufficiently excuse me from making any apology for the impertinence of this letter. The great desire I have to embellish my mind with some of those graces which you say are so becoming, and which you assert reading helps us to, has made me uneasy until I am put in a capacity of attaining them. This, sir, I shall never think myself in, until you shall be pleased to recommend some author or authors to my perusal. In the present emptiness of the town, I have several applications from the lower part of the players, to admit suffering to pass for acting. They in very obliging terms desire me to let a fall on the ground, a stumble, or a good slap on the back, be reckoned a jest. These gambols I shall tolerate for a season, because I hope the evil cannot continue longer than until the people of condition and taste' return to town. The method some time ago, was to entertain that part of the audience, who have no faculty above eye-sight, with ropedancers and tumblers; which was a way discreet enough, because it prevented confusion, and distinguished such as could show all the postures which the body is capable of, from those who were to represent all the passions to which the mind is subject. But though this was prudently I thought, indeed, when I first cast my settled, corporeal and intellectual actors eye on Leonora's letter, that I should have ought to be kept at a still wider distance had no occasion for requesting it of you; than to appear on the same stage at all: but, to my very great concern, I found on for which reason I must propose some the perusal of that Spectator, I was en- methods for the improvement of the beartirely disappointed, and am as much at a garden, by dismissing all bodily actors to loss how to make use of my time for that that quarter. Pray, sir, oblige me at least In cases of greater moment, where men with one scene, as you were pleased to en- appear in public, the consequence and imtertain Leonora with your prologue. I portance of the thing can bear them out. write to but also those of several others of my ac- or awkward, the weight of their matter quaintance, who are as little pleased with commands respect and attention; but in the ordinary manner of spending one's time theatrical speaking, if the performer is not as myself; and if a fervent desire after exactly proper and graceful, he is utterly end as ever. knowledge, and a great sense of our pre-ridiculous. In cases where there is little |