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may see I am not accuser and judge my-
self, but that the indictment is properly
and fairly laid, before I proceed against the
criminal.

ve, a very short or a very long action
ould be to the memory. The first would
e, as it were, lost and swallowed up by it,
nd the other difficult to be contained in it.
omer and Virgil have shown their prin-
'MR. SPECTATOR,-As you are specta-
pal art in this particular; the action of the
iad, and that of the Æneid, were in them-tor-general, I apply myself to you in the
lves exceeding short, but are so beauti- following case, viz. I do not wear a sword,
where I frequently see a set of fellows pull
but I often divert myself at the theatre,
plain people, by way of humour and frolic,
by the nose, upon frivolous or no occasions.
A friend of mine the other night applaud-
ing what a graceful exit Mr. Wilks made,
one of those nose-wringers overhearing
I was in
the pit the other night, (when it was very
him, pinched him by the nose.
much crowded,) a gentleman leaning upon
me, and very heavily, I very civilly re-
quested him to remove his hand; for which
sent it in so public a place, because I was
he pulled me by the nose. I would not re-
unwilling to create a disturbance; but have
since reflected upon it as a thing that is un-
manly and disingenuous, renders the nose-
by the nose look little and contemptible.
puller odious, and makes the person pulled
This grievance I humbly request you will
endeavour to redress. I am your admirer,
JAMES EASY.'

lly extended and diversified by the invenon of episodes, and the machinery of gods, ith the like poetical ornaments, that they ake up an agreeable story, sufficient to mploy the without overcharging memory Milton's action is enriched with such a ariety of circumstances, that I have taken much pleasure in reading the contents This books, as in the best invented story I ver met with. It is possible, that the trations, on which the Iliad and the Æneid ere built, had more circumstances in them han the history of the fall of man, as it is elated in scripture. Besides, it was easier or Homer and Virgil to dash the truth ith fiction, as they were in no danger of fending the religion of their country by it. ut as for Milton, he had not only a very w circumstances upon which to raise his oem, but was also obliged to proceed with e greatest caution in every thing that he dded out of his own invention. And ineed, notwithstanding all the restraint he was under, he has filled his story with so any surprising incidents, which bear so lose an analogy with what is delivered in oly writ, that it is capable of pleasing the host delicate reader, without giving offence the most scrupulous.

&c.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-Your discourse of the 29th of December,* on love and marriage, is of so useful a kind that I cannot forbear adding my thoughts to yours on that subject. Methinks it is a misfortune, that the marriage state, which in its own nature is adapted to give us the completest The modern critics have collected from happiness this life is capable of, should be everal hints in the Iliad and neid the so uncomfortable a one to so many as it pace of time which is taken up by the ac- daily proves. But the mischief generally on of each of those poems; but as a great proceeds from the unwise choice people art of Milton's story was translated in re- make for themselves, and an expectation ions that lie out of the reach of the sun and of happiness from things not capable of he sphere of day, it is impossible to gratify giving it. Nothing but the good qualities e reader with such a calculation, which of the person beloved can be a foundation deed would be more curious than instruc- for a love of judgment and discretion; and ve; none of the critics, either ancient or whoever expects happiness from any thing modern, having laid down rules to circum- but virtue, wisdom, good humour, and a cribe the action of an epic poem with any similitude of manners, will find themselves etermined number of years, days, or hours. widely mistaken. But how few are there This piece of criticism on Milton's Para- who seek after these things, and do not ise Lost shall be carried on in the following rather make riches their chief, if not their aturdays' papers. only aim? How rare is it for a man, when he engages himself in the thoughts of marriage, to place his hopes of having in such a woman a constant agreeable companion? One who will divide his cares, and double his joys? Who will manage that share of his estate he intrusts to her conduct with prudence and frugality, govern his house, with economy and discretion, and be an ornament to himself and family? Where shall we find the man who looks out for one who places her chief happiness in the practice of virtue, and makes her duty her continual pleasure? No: men rather seek for money as the complement of all their desires; and

L.

o. 268.] Monday, January 7, 1711-12.

-Minus aptus acutis Naribus horum hominum

Hor. Sat. iii. Lib. 1. 29. -unfit

I

For lively sallies of corporeal wit.-Creech. It is not that I think I have been more itty than I ought of late, that at present holly forbear any attempt towards it: I of opinion that I ought sometimes to y before the world the plain letters of my rrespondents in the artless dress in which ey hastily send them, that the reader

*No. 261.

regardless of what kind of wives they take, | parson has lost his cloak," is not mightily they think riches will be a minister to all in vogue amongst the fine ladies this Christ kind of pleasures, and enable them to keep mas, because I see they wear hoods of all mistresses, horses, hounds; to drink, feast, colours, which I suppose is for that pur and game with their companions, pay their pose. If it is, and you think it proper, debts contracted by former extravagances, will carry some of those hoods with me to or some such vile and unworthy end; and our ladies in Yorkshire: because they en indulge themselves in pleasures which are joined me to bring them something from a shame and scandal to human nature. London that was very new. If you can tell Now as for women, how few of them are any thing in which I can obey their com there who place the happiness of their mands more agreeably, be pleased to inmarriage in the having a wise and virtuous form me, and you will extremely oblige friend? One who will be faithful and just your humble servant.' to all, and constant and loving to them? Who with care and diligence will look after 'Oxford, Dec. 29. and improve the estate, and without grudg'MR. SPECTATOR,-Since you appear ing allow whatever is prudent and con- inclined to be a friend to the distressed, venient? Rather, how few are there who beg you would assist me in an affair under do not place their happiness in outshining which I have suffered very much. The others in pomp and show? and that do not reigning toast of this place is Patetia; think within themselves when they have have pursued her with the utmost diligence married such a rich person, that none of this twelvemonth, and find nothing stands their acquaintance shall appear so fine in in my way but one who flatters her more their equipage, so adorned in their persons, than I can. Pride is her favourite passion or so magnificent in their furniture as them-therefore if you would be so far my friend selves? Thus their heads are filled with vain ideas; and I heartily wish I could say that equipage and show were not the chief good of so many women as I fear it is.

'After this manner do both sexes deceive themselves, and bring reflections and disgrace upon the most happy and most honourable state of life; whereas, if they would but correct their depraved taste, moderate their ambition, and place their happiness upon proper objects, we should not find felicity in the marriage state such a wonder in the world as it now is.

Sir, if you think these thoughts worth inserting among your own, be pleased to give them a better dress; and let them pass abroad, and you will oblige your admirer,

'A. B.'

I

as to make a favourable mention of me in
one of your papers, I believe I should not
fail in my addresses. The scholars stand
in rows, as they did to be sure in your
time, at her pew door; and she has all the
devotion paid to her by a crowd of youths
who are unacquainted with the sex, and
have inexperience added to their passion
However, if it succeeds according to my
vows, you will make me the happiest
in the world, and the most obliged amongst
all your humble servants.'

man

whether

tress's toilet this morning, for I am admitted
MR. SPECTATOR,-I came to my mis
when her face is stark naked: she frowned
and cried pish, when I said a thing that
stole; and I will be judged by you
it was not very pretty. "Madam," said L
you shall forbear that part of your
dress
it may be well in others, but you canno
place a patch where it does not hide
beauty.
T.

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Evo rarissima nostro
Simplicitas-

Ovid. Ars Am. Lib. 1. 41
Most rare is now our old simplicity.-Dryden.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-As I was this day walking in the street, there happened to pass by on the other side of the way a beauty, whose charms were so attracting, that it drew my eyes wholly on that side, insomuch, that I neglected my own way, and chanced to run my nose directly against No. 269.] Tuesday, January 8, 1711-12 a post; which the lady no sooner perceived, but she fell into a fit of laughter, though at the same time she was sensible that she herself was the cause of my misfortune, which in my opinion was the greater aggravation of her crime. I being busy wip-knocking at the door, when my landlady ing off the blood which trickled down my face, had not time to acquaint her with her barbarity, as also with my resolution, viz. never to look out of my way for one of her sex more: therefore, that vant may be revenged, he desires you to insert this in one of your next papers, which he hopes will be a warning to all the rest of the women-gazers, as well as to poor

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your humble ser

'ANTHONY GAPE.'

MR. SPECTATOR,-I desire to know in your next, if the merry game of "The

I was this morning surprised with a grea

daughter came up to me and told me tha there was a man below desired to spea with me. Upon my asking her who it was she told me it was a very grave elderly person, but that she did not know his name immediately went down to him, and found him to be the coachman of my worthy friend Sir Roger de Coverley. He told me tha his master came to town last night, an would be glad to take a turn with me i Gray's Inn walks. As I was wondering with myself what had brought Sir Roge

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town, not having lately received any ter from him, he told me that his master as come up to get a sight of Prince Eune, and that he desired I would immeately meet him.

I was not a little pleased with the curiosity
the old knight, though I did not much
onder at it, having heard him say more
an once in private discourse, that he
oked upon Prince Eugenio (for so the
ight always calls him,) to be a greater
an than Scanderbeg.*

I was no sooner come into Gray's Inn
alks, but I heard my friend upon the ter-
ce hemming twice or thrice to himself
ith great vigour, for he loves to clear his
pes in good air, (to make use of his own
rase,) and is not a little pleased with any
e who takes notice of the strength which
still exerts in his morning hems.
I was touched with a secret joy at the
ght of the good old man, who before he
w me was engaged in conversation with
beggar-man that had asked alms of him.
could hear my friend chide him for not
nding out some work; but at the same
me saw him put his hand in his pocket
nd give him sixpence.

Our salutations were very hearty on both
des, consisting of many kind shakes of the
and, and several affectionate looks which
e cast upon one another. After which the
night told me my good friend his chaplain
as very well, and much at my service,
nd that the Sunday before he had made a
ost incomparable sermon out of Dr. Bar-
W. I have left,' says he, all my affairs
his hands, and being willing to lay an
bligation upon him, have deposited with
im thirty marks, to be distributed among
is poor parishioners.'

laudable custom of his ancestors, always
keeps open house at Christmas. I learned
from him that he had killed eight fat hogs
for this season, that he had dealt about his
chines very liberally amongst his neigh-
bours, and that in particular he had sent a
string of hog's puddings with a pack of
cards to every poor family in the parish.
'I have often thought,' says Sir Roger, 'it
happens very well that Christmas, should
fall out in the middle of winter. It is the
most dead uncomfortable time of the year,
when the poor people would suffer very
much from their poverty and cold, if they
had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christ-
mas gambols to support them. I love to
rejoice their poor hearts at this season, and
to see the whole village merry in my great
hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to
my small-beer, and set it a running for
twelve days to every one that calls for it. I
have always a piece of cold beef and a
mince-pie upon the table, and am wonder-
fully pleased to see my tenants pass away
a whole evening in playing their innocent
tricks, and smutting one another. Our friend
Will Wimble is as merry as any of them,
and shows a thousand roguish tricks upon
these occasions.

I was very much delighted with the re-
flection of my old friend, which carried so
much goodness in it. He then launched out
into the praise of the late act of parliament
for securing the church of England,† and
told me with great satisfaction, that he be-
lieved it already began to take effect, for
that a rigid dissenter who chanced to dine
at his house on Christmas-day, had been
observed to eat very plentifully of his plum-
porridge.

After having despatched all our country He then proceeded to acquaint me with matters, Sir Roger made several inquiries he welfare of Will Wimble. Upon which concerning the club, and particularly of his e put his hand into his fob and presented old antagonist Sir Andrew Freeport. He e in his name with a tobacco-stopper, asked me with a kind smile, whether Sir elling me that Will had been busy all the Andrew had not taken the advantage of his eginning of the winter in turning great absence, to vent among them some of his uantities of them; and that he made a pre-republican doctrines; but soon after, gatherent of one to every gentleman in the coun- ing up his countenance into a more than who has good principles, and smokes. ordinary seriousness, Tell me truly,' says le added, that poor Will was at present un-he, do you not think Sir Andrew had a er great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy hand in the Pope's procession?'-But withad taken the law of him for cutting some out giving me time to answer him, 'Well, azel sticks out of one of his hedges. well,' says he, 'I know you are a wary man, and do not care to talk of public matters.'

y

Among other pieces of news which the
night brought from his country-seat, he
formed me that Moll White was dead,
nd that about a month after her death the
ind was so very high, that it blew down
e end of one of his barns. But for my
wn part,' says Sir Roger, I do not think
at the old woman had any hand in it.'
He afterwards fell into an account of the
versions which had passed in his house
aring the holidays; for Sir Roger, after the

George Castriot, a celebrated Albanian chief in the teenth century: he was called Scanderbeg by the urks, with whom he long continued at war.

The knight then asked me, if I had seen
Prince Eugenio, and made me promise to
get him a stand in some convenient place
where he might have a full view of that
extraordinary man, whose presence did so
much honour to the British nation. He

dwelt very long on the praises of this great
general, and I found that since I was with
him in the country, he had drawn many
observations together, out of his reading in
Baker's Chronicle, and other authors, who

†The act against occasional conformity,

4

always lie in his Hall window, which very much redound to the honour of this prince. Having passed away the greatest part of the morning in hearing the knight's reflections, which were partly private and partly political, he asked me if I would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at Squires's? As I love the old man, I take delight in complying with every thing that is agreeable to him, and accordingly waited on him to the coffee-house, where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself at the upper end of the high table, but he called for a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a wax-candle, and the Supplement,* with such an air of cheerfulness and good-humour, that all the boys in the coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in serving him) were at once employed on his several errands, insomuch that nobody else could come at a dish of tea, until the knight had got all his conL.

veniences about him.

play. Such beautiful prospects gladden our minds, and when considered in general, give innocent and pleasing ideas. He that dwells upon any one object of beauty may fix his imagination to his disquiet; but the contemplation of a whole assembly together is a defence against the incroachment of desire. At least to me, who have taken pains to look at beauty abstracted from the consideration of its being the object of desire; at power, only as it sits upon another, without any hopes of partaking any share of it; at wisdom and capacity, without any pretensions to rival or envy its acquisitions. I say to me, who am really free from forming any hopes by beholding the persons of beautiful women, or warming myself into ambition from the successes of other men, this world is not only a mere scene, but a very pleasant one. Did mankind but know the freedom which there is in keeping thus aloof from the world, I should have more imitators, than the powerfullest man in the nation has followers. To be no man's rival in love, or competitor in business, is a character which, if it does not recommend you as it ought to benevolence among those

No. 270.] Wednesday, January 9, 1711-12. whom you live with, yet has it certainly

Discit enim citius, meminitque libentius illud,
Quod quis deridet, quam quod probat-
Hor. Ep. i. Lib. 2. 262.
For what's derided by the censuring crowd,
Is thought on more than what is just and good.
Dryden.

There is a lust in man no power can tame,
Of loudly publishing his neighbour's shame;
On eagle's wings invidious scandals fly,
While virtuous actions are but born, and die.
E. of Corke.
Sooner we learn, and seldomer forget,
What critics scorn, than what they highly rate.
Hughes's Letters, vol. ii. p. 222.

I Do not know that I have been in greater delight for these many years, than in beholding the boxes at the play the last time the Scornful Lady† was acted. So great an assembly of ladies placed in gradual rows in all the ornaments of jewels, silks, and colours, gave so lively and gay an impression to the heart, that methought the season of the year was vanished, and I did not think it an ill expression of a young fellow who stood near me, that called the boxes those beds of tulips.' It was a pretty variation of the prospect, when any one of those fine ladies rose up and did honour to herself and friend at a distance, by courtesying, and gave opportunity to that friend to show her charms to the same advantage in returning the salutation. Here that action is as proper and graceful as it is at church unbecoming and impertinent. By the way I must take the liberty to observe, that I did not see any one who is usually so full of civilities at church, offer any such indecorum during any part of the action of the

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this effect, that you do not stand so much in need of their approbation, as you would

if

you aimed at it more, in setting your heart on the same things which the generality doat on. By this means, and with this easy philosophy, I am never less at a play than when I am at the theatre; but indeed I am seldom so well pleased with action as in that place; for most men follow nature no longer than while they are in their nightgowns, and all the busy part of the day are in characters which they neither become, their beholders. But to return to my ladies: nor act in with pleasure to themselves or was very well pleased to see so great a crowd of them assembled at a play, wherein the heroine, as the phrase is, is so just a picture of the vanity of the sex in torment ing their admirers. The lady who pines for

I

the man whom she treats with so much immuch art and humour. Her resolutions to pertinence and inconstancy, is drawn with just at the instant she resolved to express be extremely civil, but her vanity arising herself kindly, are described as by one who had studied the sex. But when my admira tion is fixed upon this excellent character, and two or three others in the play, I must confess I was moved, with the utmost indignation, at the trivial, senseless, and unis possible there may be a pedant in holy natural representation of the chaplain. It orders, and we have seen one or two d them in the world: but such a driveller as Sir Roger, so bereft of all manner of pride, what one would not believe could come into which is the characteristic of a pedant,

The title of Sir was anciently given to every domes tic chaplain. It is surprising to observe how much ha been written on this subject by some of the comments. tors on Shakspeare. See the Merry Wives of Windsor.

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Mille trahens varios adverso sole colores.

Virg. Æn. iv. 701.
Drawing a thousand colours from the light.
Dryden.

eggs. I RECEIVE a double advantage from the
letters of my correspondents; first, as they
show me which of my papers are most ac-
ceptable to them: and in the next place,
as they furnish me with materials for new
speculations. Sometimes indeed I do not
make use of the letter itself, but form the
hints of it into plans of my own invention;
sometimes I take the liberty to change the
language or thought into my own way of
speaking and thinking, and always (if it can
be done without prejudice to the sense)
omit the many compliments and applauses
which are usually bestowed upon me.

e head of the same man who drew the | No. 271.] Thursday, January 10, 1711-12.
st of the play. The meeting between
elford and him shows a wretch without
y notion of the dignity of his function; and
is out of all common sense that he should
ve an account of himself as one sent four
five miles in a morning, on foot, for
is not to be denied, but this part, and that
the maid, whom he makes love to, are
cellently well performed; but a thing
ich is blameable in itself, grows still
ore so by the success in the execution of
It is so mean a thing to gratify a loose
e with a scandalous representation of
at is reputable among men, not to say
at is sacred, that no beauty, no excel-
ace in an author ought to atone for it; nay,
ch excellence is an aggravation of his
ilt, and an argument that he errs against
e conviction of his own understanding and
nscience. Wit should be tried by this
Besides the two advantages above men-
le, and an audience should rise against tioned, which I receive from the letters
ch a scene as throws down the reputation that are sent me, they give me an oppor-
any thing which the consideration of re-tunity of lengthening out my paper by the
ion or decency should preserve from con-
mpt. But all this evil arises from this one
rruption of mind, that makes men resent
ences against their virtue, less than those
ainst their understanding. An author
all write as if he thought there was not
e man of honour or woman of chastity in
e house, and come off with applause: for
insult upon all the ten commandments
th the little critics is not so bad as the
each of a unity of time and place. Half
its do not apprehend the miseries that
ust necessarily flow from a degeneracy of
anners; nor do they know that order is
e support of society. Sir Roger and his
stress are monsters of the poet's own
rming; the sentiments in both of them are 'SIR,-I was last Thursday in an assem-
ch as do not arise in fools of their educa- bly of ladies, where there were thirteen dif-
on. We all know that a silly scholar, ferent coloured hoods. Your Spectator of
stead of being below every one he meets that day lying upon the table, they ordered
th, is apt to be exalted above the rank of me to read it to them, which I did with a
ch as are really his superiors; his arro- very clear voice, until I came to the Greek
nce is always founded upon particular verse at the end of it. I must confess I was
tions of distinction in his own head, ac- a little startled at its popping upon me so
mpanied with a pedantic scorn of all for- unexpectedly. However, I covered my
ne and pre-eminence, when compared confusion as well as I could, and after hav-
th his knowledge and learning. This ing muttered two or three hard words to
ry one character of Sir Roger, as silly as myself, laughed heartily; and cried, "a
really is, has done more towards the dis- very good jest, faith." The ladies desired
ragement of holy orders, and consequently me to explain it to them; but I begged their
virtue itself, than all the wit of that au-pardon for that, and told them, that if it
or, or any other, could make up for in the had been proper for them to hear, they
nduct of the longest life after it. I do not might be sure the author would not have
etend in saying this, to give myself airs wrapped it up in Greek. I then let drop
more virtue than my neighbours, but several expressions, as if there was some-
sert it from the principles by which man- thing in it that was not fit to be spoken be-
nd must always be governed. Sallies of fore a company of ladies. Upon which the
agination are to be overlooked, when they matron of the assembly, who was dressed
committed out of warmth in the recom- in a cherry-coloured hood, commended the
endation of what is praise-worthy; but a discretion of the writer for having thrown
liberate advancing of vice, with all the his filthy thoughts into Greek, which was
in the world, is as ill an action as any likely to corrupt but few of his readers.
tcomes before the magistrate, and ought At the same time she declared herself very
be received as such by the people. well pleased that he had not given a decí-
sive opinion upon the new-fashioned hoods;

skilful management of the subscribing part
at the end of them, which perhaps does
not a little conduce to the ease, both of my-
self and reader.

Some will have it, that I often write to my-
self, and am the only punctual correspond-
ent I have. This objection would indeed
be material, were the letters I communi-
cate to the public stuffed with my own
commendations; and if instead of endea-
youring to divert and instruct my readers,
I admired in them the beauty of my own
performances. But I shall leave these wise
conjecturers to their own imaginations, and
produce the three following letters for the
entertainment of the day.

T.

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