L interpret by the great for any gentlewoman | France, the lady tells her that is a secret who is turned of sixty, after the rate of in dress she never knew before, and that half-a-crown per week, with the usual al- she was so unpolished an English woman, lowances for good luck. I have several as to resolve never to learn to dress even rooms and apartments fitted up at reasona- before her husband. ble rates, for such as have not conveniences for dreaming at their own houses. TITUS TROPHONIUS. 'N. B. I am not dumb.' No. 506.] Friday, October 10, 1712. 0. Candida perpetuo reside, concordia, lecto, Perpetual harmony their bed attend, There is something so gross in the carriage of some wives, that they lose their husband's hearts for faults which, if a man has either good-nature or good-breeding, he knows not how to tell them of. I am afraid, indeed, the ladies are generally most faulty in this particular; who, at their first giving into love, find the way so smooth and pleasant, that they fancy it is scarce possible to be tired in it. There is so much nicety and discretion required to keep love alive after marriage, and make conversation still new and agreeable after twenty or thirty years, that I know nothing which seems readily to promise it, but an earnest endeavour to please on both sides, and superior good sense on the part of the man. By a man of sense I mean one acquainted with business and letters. A woman very much settles her esteem for a man, according to the figure he makes I have somewhere met with a fable that in the world, and the character he bears made Wealth the father of Love. It is among his own sex. As learning is the certain that a mind ought at least to be free chief advantage we have over them, it is, from the apprehensions of want and poverty, methinks, as scandalous and inexcusable before it can fully attend to all the softnesses for a man of fortune to be illiterate, as for a and endearments of this passion; notwith-woman not to know how to behave herself standing, we see multitudes of married peo- on the most ordinary occasions. It is this ple, who are utter strangers to this delight- which sets the two sexes at the greatest ful passion amidst all the affluence of the distance; a woman is vexed and surprised, most plentiful fortunes. to find nothing more in the conversation of a man, than in the common tattle of her own sex. It is not sufficient to make a marriage happy, that the humours of two people should be alike. I could instance a hundred pair, who have not the least sentiment of love remaining for one another, yet are so like in their humours, that if they were not already married, the whole world would design them for man and wife. Some small engagement at least in business, not only sets a man's talents in the fairest light, and allots him a part to act in which a wife cannot well intermeddle, but gives frequent occasion for those little absences, which, whatever seeming uneasiThe spirit of love has something so ex-ness they may give, are some of the best tremely fine in it, that it is very often dis- preservatives of love and desire. turbed and lost, by some little accidents, The fair-sex are so conscious to themwhich the careless and unpolite never at-selves that they have nothing in them which tend to, until it is gone past recovery. Nothing has more contributed to banish it from a married state than too great a familiarity, and laying aside the common rules of decency. Though I could give instances of this in several particulars, I shall only mention that of dress. The beaux and belles about town, who dress purely to catch one another, think there is no farther occasion for the bait, when the first design has succeeded. But besides the too common fault, in point of neatness, there are several others which I do not remember to have seen touched upon, but in one of our modern comedies, where a French woman offering to undress and dress herself before the lover of the play, and assuring her mistress that it was very usual in * The Funeral, or Grief Alamode, by Steele. can deserve entirely to engross the whole man, that they heartily despise one who, to use their own expression, is always hanging at their apron-strings. Lætitia is pretty, modest, tender, and has sense enough; she married Erastus, who is in a post of some business, and has a general taste in most parts of polite learning. Lætitia, wherever she visits, has the pleasure to hear of something which was handsomely said or done by Erastus. Erastus, since his marriage, is more gay in his dress than ever, and in all companies is as complaisant to Lætitia as to any other lady. I have seen him give her her fan when it has dropped, with all the gallantry of a lover. When they take the air together, Erastus is continually improving her thoughts, and with a turn of wit and spirit which is peculiar to him, giving her an insight into things she had no notions of before. Lætitia is transported at having a new world thus opened to her, and hangs upon the man that gives her such agreeable informations. Erastus has carried this point still farther, as he makes her daily not only more fond of him, but infinitely more satisfied with herself. Erastus finds a justness or beauty in whatever she says or observes, that Lætitia herself was not aware of; and by his assistance she has discovered a hundred good qualities and accomplishments in herself, which she never before once dreamed of. Erastus, with the most artful complaisance in the world, by several remote hints, finds the means to make her say or propose almost whatever he has a mind to, which he always receives as her own discovery, and gives her all the reputation of it. Erastus has a perfect taste in painting, and carried Lætitia with him the other day to see a collection of pictures. I sometimes visit this happy couple. As we were last week walking in the long gallery before dinner,—' I have lately laid out some money in paintings,' says Erastus: 'I bought that Venus and Adonis purely upon Lætitia's judgment; it cost me threescore guineas; and I was this morning offered a hundred for it.' I turned towards Lætitia, and saw her cheeks glow with pleasure, while at the same time she cast a look upon Erastus, the most tender and affectionate I ever beheld. Flavilla married Tom Tawdry, she was taken with his laced-coat and rich swordknot; she has the mortification to see Tom despised by all the worthy part of his own sex. Tom has nothing to do after dinner, but to determine whether he will pare his nails at St. James's, White's, or his own house. He has said nothing to Flavilla since they were married which she might not have heard as well from her own woman. He however takes great care to keep up the saucy ill-natured authority of a husband. Whatever Flavilla happens to assert, Tom immediately contradicts with an oath by way of preface, and, 'My dear, I must tell you you talk most confoundedly silly.' Flavilla had a heart naturally as well disposed for all the tenderness of love as that of Lætitia; but as love seldom continues long after esteem, it is difficult to determine, at present whether the unhappy Flavilla hates or despises the person most whom she is obliged to lead her whole life with. X. No. 507.] Saturday, October 11, 1712. THERE is something very sublime, though very fanciful, in Plato's description of the Supreme Being; that 'truth is his body, and light his shadow.' According to this definition, there is nothing so contradictory to his nature as error and falsehood. The Platonists have so just a notion of the Almighty's aversion to every thing which is false and erroneous, that they looked upon truth as no less necessary than virtue to qualify a human soul for the enjoyment of a separate state. For this reason, as they recommended moral duties to qualify and season the will for a future life, so they prescribed several contemplations and sciences to rectify the understanding. Thus Plato has called mathematical demonstrations the cathartics, or purgatives of the soul, as being the most proper means to cleanse it from error, and give it a relish of truth; which is the natural food and nourishment of the understanding, as virtue is the perfection and happiness of the will. There are many authors who have shown wherein the malignity of a lie consists, and set forth in proper colours the heinousness of the offence. I shall here consider one particular kind of this crime, which has not been so much spoken to; I mean that abominable practice of party-lying. This vice is so very predominant among us at present, that a man is thought of no principle, who does not propagate a certain system of lies. The coffee-houses are supported by them, the press is choked with them, eminent authors live upon them. Our bottle conversation is so infected with them, that a party-lie is grown as fashionable an entertainment as a lively catch, or a merry story. The truth of it is, half the great talkers in the nation would be struck dumb were this fountain of discourse dried up. There is however one advantage resulting from this detestable practice: the very appearances of truth are so little regarded, that lies are at present discharged in the air, and begin to hurt nobody. When we hear a party-story from a stranger, we consider whether he is a whig or a tory that relates it, and immediately conclude they are words of course, in which the honest gentleman designs to recommend his zeal, without any concern for his veracity. A man is looked upon as bereft of common sense, that gives credit to the relations of party writers; nay, his own friends shake their heads at him, and consider him in no other light than an officious tool, or a wellmeaning idiot. When it was formerly the fashion to husband a lie, and trump it up in some extraordinary emergency, it generally did execution, and was not a little serviceable to the faction that made use of it; but at present every man is upon his guard: the artifice has been too often repeated to take effect. I have frequently wondered to see men of probity, who would scorn to utter a falsehood for their own particular advantage, give so readily into a lie, when it is become the voice of their faction, notwithstanding they are thoroughly sensible of it as such. How is it possible for those who are men | world. When Pompey was desired not to of honour in their persons, thus to become set sail in a tempest that would hazard his notorious liars in their party? If we look life, 'It is necessary for me,' says he, 'to into the bottom of this matter, we may find, sail, but it is not necessary for me to live.' I think, three reasons for it, and at the Every man should say to himself, with the same time discover the insufficiency of these same spirit, 'It is my duty to speak truth, reasons to justify so criminal a practice. though it is not my duty to be in an office.' One of the fathers has carried this point so high as to declare he would not tell a lie, though he were sure to gain heaven by it. However extravagant such a protestation may appear, every one will own that a man may say, very reasonably, he would not tell a lie if he were to gain hell by it; or, if you have a mind to soften the expression, that he would not tell a lie to gain any temporal reward by it, when he should run the hazard of losing much more than it was possible for him to gain. O. In the first place, men are apt to think that the guilt of a lie, and consequently the punishment may be very much diminished, if not wholly worn out, by the multitudes of those who partake in it. Though the weight of a falsehood would be too much for one to bear, it grows light in their imaginations when it is shared among many. But in this case a man very much deceives himself; guilt, when it spreads through numbers, is not so properly divided as multiplied. Every one is criminal in proportion to the offence which he commits, not to the number of those who are his companions in it. Both the crime and the penalty lie as heavy upon every individual of an offending No. 508.] Monday, October 13, 1712. multitude, as they would upon any single person, had none shared with him in the offence. In a word, the division of guilt is like to that of matter: though it may be separated into infinite portions, every portion shall have the whole essence of matter in it, and consist of as many parts as the whole did before it was divided. Omnes autem et habentur et dicuntur tyranni, qui potestate sunt perpetua, in ea civitate quæ libertate Corn. Nepos in Milt. c. 8. usa est. who exercise a perpetual power in that state, which For all those are accounted and denominated tyrants was before free. THE following letters complain of what I have frequently observed with very much indignation; therefore I shall give them to the public in the words with which my correspondents, who suffer under the hardships mentioned in them, describe them. But in the second place, though multitudes, who join in a lie, cannot exempt themselves from the guilt, they may from the shame of it. The scandal of a lie is in a manner lost and annihilated, when diffused among several thousands; as a drop of the 'MR. SPECTATOR,-In former ages all blackest tincture wears away and vanishes, when mixed and confused in a considerable pretensions to dominion have been supbody of water; the blot is still in it, but is ported and submitted to, either upon acnot able to discover itself. This is certainly count of inheritance, conquest, or election; a very great motive to several party-offen- and all such persons, who have taken upon ders, who avoid crimes, not as they are them any sovereignty over their fellowprejudicial to their virtue, but to their creatures upon any other account, have reputation. It is enough to show the weak-been always called tyrants, not so much ness of this reason, which palliates guilt because they were guilty of any particular without removing it, that every man who barbarities, as because every attempt to is influenced by it declares himself in effect such a superiority was in its nature tyranan infamous hypocrite, prefers the appear-nical. But there is another sort of potenance of virtue to its reality, and is determined in his conduct neither by the dictates of his own conscience, the suggestions of true honour, nor the principles of religion. tates, who may with greater propriety be called tyrants than those last mentioned, both as they assume a despotic dominion over those as free as themselves, and as The third and last great motive for men's they support it by acts of notable oppresjoining in a popular falsehood, or, as I have sion and injustice; and these are the rulers hitherto called it, a party-lie, notwith-in all clubs and meetings. In other governstanding they are convinced of it as such, is the doing good to a cause which every party may be supposed to look upon as the most meritorious. The unsoundness of this principle has been so often exposed, and is so universally acknowledged, that a man must be an utter stranger to the principles either of natural religion or Christianity, who suffers himself to be guided by it. If a man might promote the supposed good of his country by the blackest calumnies and falsehoods, our nation abounds more in patriots than any other of the Christian ments the punishments of some have been alleviated by the rewards of others: but what makes the reign of these potentates so particularly grievous is, that they are exquisite in punishing their subjects, at the same time that they have it not in their power to reward them. That the reader may the better comprehend the nature of these monarchs, as well as the miserable state of those that are their vassals, I shall give an account of the king of the company am fallen into, whom, for his particular tyranny, I shall call Dionysius: as also of the seeds that sprung up to this odd sort | train of each is equal in number, rather of empire. than give battle, the superiority is soon adjusted by a desertion from one of them. -These thoughts Full counsel must mature. Peace is despair'd, 'I am, servant,' sir, your most obedient humble 'Upon all meetings at taverns, it is necessary some one of the company should Now, the expulsion of these unjust take it upon him to get all things in such rulers out of all societies, would gain a man order and readiness, as may contribute as as everlasting a reputation as either of the much as possible to the felicity of the con- Brutus's got for their endeavours to extirvention; such as hastening the fire, getting pate tyranny from among the Romans. I a sufficient number of candles, tasting the confess myself to be in a conspiracy against wine with a judicious smack, fixing the sup- the usurper of our club; and to show my per, and being brisk for the despatch of it. reading, as well as my merciful disposition, Know, then, that Dionysius went through shall allow him until the ides of March to these offices with an air that seemed to dethrone himself. If he seems to affect express a satisfaction rather in serving the empire until that time, and does not gradupublic that in gratifying any particular in- ally recede from the incursions he has made clination of his own. We thought him a upon our liberties, he shall find a dinner person of an exquisite palate, and therefore dressed which he has no hand in, and shall by consent beseeched him to be always our be treated with an order, magnificence, and proveditor; which post, after he had hand-luxury, as shall break his proud heart; at somely denied, he could do no otherwise the same time that he shall be convinced than accept. At first he made no other use in his stomach he was unfit for his post, of his power than in recommending such and a more mild and skilful prince receive and such things to the company, ever allow-the acclamations of the people, and be set ing these points to be disputable; insomuch up in his room; but, as Milton says, that I have often carried the debate for partridge, when his majesty has given intimation of the high relish of duck, but at the same time has cheerfully submitted, and devoured his partridge with most gracious resignation. This submission on his side naturally produced the like on ours; of which he in a little time made such barba- 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a young worous advantage, as in all those matters, man at a gentleman's seat in the country, which before seemed indifferent to him, to who is a particular friend of my father's, issue out certain edicts as uncontrollable and came hither to pass away a month or and unalterable as the laws of the Medes two with his daughters. I have been enand Persians. He is by turns outrageous, tertained with the utmost civility by the peevish, forward, and jovial. He thinks it whole family, and nothing has been omitted our duty for the little offices, as proveditor, which can make my stay easy and agreeathat in return all conversation is to be in- ble on the part of the family; but there is a terrupted or promoted by his inclination gentleman here, a visitant as I am, whose for or against the present humour of the behaviour has given me great uneasiness. company. We feel, at present, in the utmost When I first arrived here, he used me with extremity, the insolence of office; however, the utmost complaisance; but, forsooth, that I, being naturally warm, ventured to op- was not with regard to my sex; and since he pose him in a dispute about a haunch of has no designs upon me, he does not know venison. I was altogether for roasting, but why he should distinguish me from a man Dionysius declared himself for boiling within things indifferent. He is, you must know, so much prowess and resolution, that the one of those familiar coxcombs, who have cook thought it necessary to consult his own observed some well-bred men with a good safety, rather than the luxury of my pro- grace converse with women, and say no position. With the same authority that he fine things, but yet treat them with that orders what we shall eat and drink, he also sort of respect which flows from the heart commands us where to do it: and we change and the understanding, but is exerted in no our taverns according as he suspects any professions or compliments. This puppy, treasonable practices in the settling the bill to imitate this excellence, or avoid the conby the master, or sees any bold rebellion in trary fault of being troublesome in complaipoint of attendance by the waiters. Another sance, takes upon him to try his talent upon reason for changing the seat of empire, I me, insomuch that he contradicts me upon conceive to be the pride he takes in the all occasions, and one day told me I lied. promulgation of our slavery, though we pay If I had struck him with my bodkin, and our club for our entertainments, even in behaved myself like a man, since he will these palaces of our grand monarch. When not treat me as a woman, I had, I think, he has a mind to take the air, a party of us served him right. I wish, sir, you would are commanded out by way of life-guard, please to give him some maxims of behaand we march under as great restrictions viour in these points, and resolve me if all as they do. If we meet a neighbouring maids are not in point of conversation to be king, we give or keep the way, according treated by all bachelors as their mistresses? as we are out-numbered or not; and if the 1 If not so, are they not to be used as gently as their sisters? Is it sufferable that the which is the true source of wealth and fop of whom I complain should say that he prosperity. I just now said, the man of would rather have such-a-one without a thrift shows regularity in every thing; but groat, than me with the Indies? What you may, perhaps, laugh that I take notice right has any man to make suppositions of of such a particular as I am going to do, for things not in his power, and then declare an instance that this city is declining if their his will to the dislike of one that has never ancient economy is not restored. The thing offended him? I assure you these are things which gives me this prospect, and so much worthy your consideration, and I hope we offence, is the neglect of the Royal Exshall have your thoughts upon them. I am, change. I mean the edifice so called, and though a woman justly offended, ready to the walks appertaining thereunto. The forgive all this, because I have no remedy Royal Exchange is a fabric that well debut leaving very agreeable company sooner serves to be so called, as well to express than I desire. This also is a heinous ag- that our monarch's highest glory and adgravation of his offence, that he is inflicting vantage consists in being the patron of trade, banishment upon me. Your printing this as that it is commodious for business, and letter may perhaps be an admonition to re-an instance of the grandeur both of prince form him; as soon as it appears I will write my name at the end of it, and lay it in his way; the making which just reprimand, I hope you will put in the power of, sir, your constant reader, and humble servant. No. 509.] Tuesday, October 14, 1712. T. Hominis frugi et temperantis functus officium. and people. But, alas! at present it hardly seems to be set apart for any such use or purpose. Instead of the assembly of honourable merchants, substantial tradesmen, and knowing masters of ships; the mumpers, the halt, the blind, the lame; and your venders of trash, apples, plums; your raggamuffins, rake-shames, and wenches, have justled the greater number of the former out of that place. Thus it is, especially on the evening change: so that what with the din of squallings, oaths, and cries Discharging the part of a good economist. of beggars, men of the greatest consequence THE useful knowledge in the following in our city absent themselves from the letter shall have a place in my paper, place. This particular, by the way, is of though there is nothing in it which imme- evil consequence; for, if the 'Change be diately regards the polite or the learned no place for men of the highest credit to world; I say immediately, for upon reflec- frequent, it will not be a disgrace for those tion every man will find there is a remote of less abilities to be absent. I remember influence upon his own affairs, in the pros- the time when rascally company were kept perity or decay of the trading part of man-out, and the unlucky boys with toys and kind. My present correspondent, I believe, was never in print before; but what he says well deserves a general attention, though delivered in his own homely maxims, and a kind of proverbial simplicity; which sort of learning has raised more estates, than ever were, or will be, from attention to Virgil, Horace, Tully, Seneca, Plutarch, or any of the rest, whom, I dare say, this worthy citizen would hold to be indeed ingenious, but unprofitable writers. But to the letter. 'Mr. William Spectator. balls were whipped away by a beadle. I have seen this done indeed of late, but then it has been only to chase the lads from chuck, that the beadle might seize their copper. I must repeat the abomination, that the walnut-trade is carried on by old women within the walks, which makes the place impassable by reason of shells and trash. The benches around are so filthy, that no one can sit down, yet the beadles and officers have the impudence at Christmas to ask for their box, though they deserve the strappado. I do not think it impertinent to have mentioned this, because it bespeaks a neglect in the domestic care of the city, and the domestic is the truest picture of a man every where else. 'Broad-street, Oct. 10, 1712. 'SIR,-I accuse you of many discourses on the subject of money, which you have heretofore promised the public, but have not discharged yourself thereof. But, for- 'But I designed to speak on the busiasmuch as you seemed to depend upon ad-ness of money and advancement of gain. vice from others what to do in that point, The man proper for this, speaking in the have sat down to write you the needful upon general, is of a sedate, plain good underthat subject. But, before I enter thereupon, standing, not apt to go out of his way, but I shall take this opportunity to observe to so behaving himself at home, that business you, that the thriving frugal man shows it may come to him. Sir William Turner, in every part of his expense, dress, ser- that valuable citizen, has left behind him a vants, and house; and I must, in the first most excellent rule, and couched it in very place complain to you, as Spectator, that few words, suited to the meanest capacity. in these particulars there is at this time, He would say, "Keep your shop, and your "It must be confessed, throughout the city of London, a lamenta-shop will keep you.' ble change from that simplicity of manners, that if a man of a great genius could add |