mind
of a Saying which I am infinitely pleased with, and which
Plutarch
ascribes to
Heraclitus, That all Men whilst they are awake are in one common World; but that each of them, when he is asleep, is in a World of his own.
2
The waking Man is conversant in the World of Nature, when he sleeps he retires to a private World that is particular to himself. There seems something in this Consideration that intimates to us a natural Grandeur and Perfection in the Soul, which is rather to be admired than explained.
I must not
omit
that Argument for the Excellency of the Soul, which I have seen quoted out of
Tertullian
3
, namely, its Power of divining in Dreams. That several such Divinations have been made, none can question, who believes the Holy Writings, or who has but the least degree of a common Historical Faith; there being innumerable Instances of this nature in several Authors, both Antient and Modern, Sacred and Profane. Whether such dark Presages, such Visions of the Night proceed from any latent Power in the Soul, during this her state of Abstraction, or from any Communication with the Supreme Being, or from any operation of Subordinate Spirits, has been a great Dispute among the Learned; the matter of Fact is, I think, incontestable, and has been looked upon as such by the greatest Writers, who have been never suspected either of Superstition or Enthusiasm.
I do not suppose, that the Soul in these Instances is entirely loose and unfettered from the Body: It is sufficient, if she is not so far sunk, and immersed in Matter, nor intangled and perplexed in her Operations, with such Motions of Blood and Spirits, as when she actuates the Machine in its waking Hours. The Corporeal Union is slackned enough to give the Mind more Play. The Soul seems gathered within herself, and recovers that Spring which is broke and weakned, when she operates more in concert with the Body.
The Speculations I have here made, if they are not Arguments, they are at least strong Intimations, not only of the Excellency of an Human Soul, but of its Independence on the Body; and if they do not prove, do at least confirm these two great Points, which are established by many other Reasons that are altogether unanswerable.
O.
Footnote 1:
Part ii. § 11.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
The reference is in the little book
On Superstition
, where Plutarch quotes Heraclitus to add this comment of his own:
But to the superstitious man there is no common world, for neither does he use right reason when awake, nor is he freed, when sleeping, from his perturbations.
return
Footnote 3:
Tertullian, in his book
On the Soul,
has seven chapters (43-49) on Sleep and Dreams, with abundant recognition of divine communications to the soul in sleep, and quotations of several authors, sacred and profane.
return
Contents
Quanti emptæ? parvi. Quanti ergo? octo assibus. Eheu!Hor.translation
I find, by several Letters which I receive daily, that many of my Readers would be better pleased to pay Three Half-Pence for my Paper, than Two-Pence. The ingenious
T. W.
tells me, that I have deprived him of the best Part of his Breakfast, for that since the rise of my Paper, he is forced every Morning to drink his Dish of Coffee by it self, without the Addition of the
Spectator
, that used to be better than Lace to it.
Eugenius
informs me very obligingly, that he never thought he should have disliked any Passage in my Paper, but that of late there have been two Words in every one of them, which he could heartily wish left out,
viz. Price Two-Pence
. I have a Letter from a Soap-boiler, who condoles with me very affectionately, upon the necessity we both lie under of setting an higher Price on our Commodities, since the late Tax has been laid upon them, and de
Sir
ing me, when I write next on that Subject, to speak a Word or two upon the present Duties on Castile-Soap. But there is none of these my Correspondents, who writes with a greater Turn of good Sense and Elegance of Expression, than the generous
Philomedes
, who advises me to value every
Spectator
at Six Pence, and promises that he himself will engage for above a Hundred of his Acquaintance, who shall take it in at that Price.
Letters from the Female World are likewise come to me, in great quantities, upon the same Occasion; and as I naturally bear a great Deference to this Part of our Species, I am very glad to find that those who approve my Conduct in this Particular, are much more numerous than those who condemn it. A large Family of Daughters have drawn me up a very handsome Remonstrance, in which they set forth, that their Father having refused to take in the
Spectator
, since the additional Price was set upon it, they offered him unanimously to bate him the Article of Bread and Butter in the Tea-Table Account, provided the
Spectator
might be served up to them every Morning as usual. Upon this the old Gentleman, being pleased, it seems, with their De
Sir
e of improving themselves, has granted them the continuance both of the
Spectator
and their Bread and Butter; having given particular Orders, that the Tea-Table shall be set forth every Morning with its Customary Bill of Fare, and without any manner of Defalcation. I thought my self obliged to mention this Particular, as it does Honour to this worthy Gentleman; and if the young Lady
Lætitia
, who sent me this Account, will acquaint me with his Name, I will insert it at length in one of my Papers, if he de
Sir
es it.
I should be very glad to find out any Expedient that might alleviate the Expence which this my Paper brings to any of my Readers; and, in order to it, must propose two Points to their Consideration. First, that if they retrench any the smallest Particular in their ordinary Expence, it will easily make up the Half Penny a Day, which we have now under Consideration. Let a Lady sacrifice but a single Ribband to her Morning Studies, and it will be sufficient: Let a Family burn but a Candle a Night less than the usual Number, and they may take in the
Spectator
without Detriment to their private Affairs.
In the next Place, if my Readers will not go to the Price of buying my Papers by Retail, let them have Patience, and they may buy them in the Lump, without the Burthen of a Tax upon them. My Speculations, when they are sold single, like Cherries upon the Stick, are Delights for the Rich and Wealthy; after some time they come to Market in greater Quantities, and are every ordinary Man's Money. The Truth of it is, they have a certain Flavour at their first Appearance, from several accidental Circumstances of Time, Place and Person, which they may lose if they are not taken early; but in this case every Reader is to consider, whether it is not better for him to be half a Year behind-hand with the fashionable and polite part of the World, than to strain himself beyond his Circumstances. My Bookseller has now about Ten Thousand of the Third and Fourth Volumes, which he is ready to publish, having already disposed of as large an Edition both of the First and Second Volume. As he is a Person whose Head is very well turned to his Business, he thinks they would be a very proper Present to be made to Persons at Christenings, Marriages, Visiting-Days, and the like joyful Solemnities, as several other Books are frequently given at Funerals. He has printed them in such a little portable Volume, that many of them may be ranged together upon a single Plate; and is of Opinion, that a Salver of
Spectators
would be as acceptable an Entertainment to the Ladies, as a Salver of Sweetmeats.
I shall conclude this Paper with an Epigram lately sent to the Writer of the
Spectator
, after having returned my Thanks to the ingenious Author of it.
Sir,'Having heard the following Epigram very much commended, I wonder that it has not yet had a place in any of your Papers: I think the Suffrage of our Poet Laureat should not be overlooked, which shews the Opinion he entertains of your Paper, whether the Notion he proceeds upon be true or false. I make bold to convey it to you, not knowing if it has yet come to your Hands.Sir,'Having heard the following Epigram very much commended, I wonder that it has not yet had a place in any of your Papers: I think the Suffrage of our Poet Laureat should not be overlooked, which shews the Opinion he entertains of your Paper, whether the Notion he proceeds upon be true or false. I make bold to convey it to you, not knowing if it has yet come to your Hands.On theSPECTATOR.ByMr.Tate1.--Aliusque et idemNasceris—Hor.'When first theTatlerto a Mute was turn'd,Great Britainfor her Censor's Silence mourn'd.Robb'd of his sprightly Beams, she wept the Night,'Till theSpectatorrose, and blaz'd as bright.So the first Man the Sun's first Setting view'd,And sigh'd, till circling Day his Joys renew'd;Yet doubtful how that second Sun to name,Whether a bright Successor, or the same.So we: but now from this Suspense are freed,Since all agree, who both with Judgment read,'Tis the same Sun, and does himself succeed.'
Sir,'Having heard the following Epigram very much commended, I wonder that it has not yet had a place in any of your Papers: I think the Suffrage of our Poet Laureat should not be overlooked, which shews the Opinion he entertains of your Paper, whether the Notion he proceeds upon be true or false. I make bold to convey it to you, not knowing if it has yet come to your Hands.On theSPECTATOR.ByMr.Tate1.--Aliusque et idemNasceris—Hor.'When first theTatlerto a Mute was turn'd,Great Britainfor her Censor's Silence mourn'd.Robb'd of his sprightly Beams, she wept the Night,'Till theSpectatorrose, and blaz'd as bright.So the first Man the Sun's first Setting view'd,And sigh'd, till circling Day his Joys renew'd;Yet doubtful how that second Sun to name,Whether a bright Successor, or the same.So we: but now from this Suspense are freed,Since all agree, who both with Judgment read,'Tis the same Sun, and does himself succeed.'
On theSPECTATOR.ByMr.Tate1.--Aliusque et idemNasceris—Hor.'When first theTatlerto a Mute was turn'd,Great Britainfor her Censor's Silence mourn'd.Robb'd of his sprightly Beams, she wept the Night,'Till theSpectatorrose, and blaz'd as bright.So the first Man the Sun's first Setting view'd,And sigh'd, till circling Day his Joys renew'd;Yet doubtful how that second Sun to name,Whether a bright Successor, or the same.So we: but now from this Suspense are freed,Since all agree, who both with Judgment read,'Tis the same Sun, and does himself succeed.'
--Aliusque et idemNasceris—Hor.'When first theTatlerto a Mute was turn'd,Great Britainfor her Censor's Silence mourn'd.Robb'd of his sprightly Beams, she wept the Night,'Till theSpectatorrose, and blaz'd as bright.So the first Man the Sun's first Setting view'd,And sigh'd, till circling Day his Joys renew'd;Yet doubtful how that second Sun to name,Whether a bright Successor, or the same.So we: but now from this Suspense are freed,Since all agree, who both with Judgment read,'Tis the same Sun, and does himself succeed.'
O.
Footnote 1:
Nahum Tate, born and educated at Dublin, and befriended in his youth by Dryden and Dorset, was at this time 60 years old, and poet-laureate, having in 1692 succeeded in that office Thomas Shadwell, the Whig substitute for Dryden. Besides his version of the Psalms produced in concert with his friend Dr. Nicholas Brady, Tate produced his own notion of an improvement upon Shakespeare's King Lear and nine dramatic pieces, with other poetry, of which the above lines are a specimen. Tate was in his younger days the writer of the second part of Dryden's
Absalom and Achithophel,
to which Dryden himself contributed only the characters of Julian Johnson as Ben Jochanan, of Shadwell as Og, and of Settle as Doeg. His salary as poet-laureate was £100 a year, and a butt of canary. He died three years after the date of this
Spectator
a poor man who had made his home in the Mint to escape his creditors.
return to footnote mark
Contents
Greek: Bathyrrheítao méga sthénos '‘keaneio—Hom.translationSir,Upon reading yourEssayconcerning the Pleasures of the Imagination, I find, among the three Sources of those Pleasures which you have discovered,thatGreatnessis one. This has suggested to me the reason why, of all Objects that I have ever seen, there is none which affects my Imagination so much as the Sea or Ocean. I cannot see the Heavings of this prodigious Bulk of Waters, even in a Calm, without a very pleasing Astonishment; but when it is worked up in a Tempest, so that the Horizon on every side is nothing but foaming Billows and floating Mountains, it is impossible to describe the agreeable Horrour that rises from such a Prospect. A troubled Ocean, to a Man who sails upon it, is, I think, the biggest Object that he can see in motion, and consequently gives his Imagination one of the highest kinds of Pleasure that can arise from Greatness. I must confess, it is impossible for me to survey this World of fluid Matter, without thinking on the Hand that first poured it out, and made a proper Channel for its Reception. Such an Object naturally raises in my Thoughts the Idea of an Almighty Being, and convinces me of his Existence as much as a metaphysical Demonstration. The Imagination prompts the Understanding, and by the Greatness of the sensible Object, produces in it the Idea of a Being who is neither circumscribed by Time nor Space.As I have made several Voyages upon the Sea, I have often been tossed in Storms, and on that occasion have frequently reflected on the Descriptions of them in ancient Poets. I rememberLonginushighly recommendsoneinHomer, because the Poet has not amused himself with little Fancies upon the occasion, as Authors of an inferiour Genius, whom he mentions, had done, but because he has gathered together those Circumstances which are the most apt to terrify the Imagination, and which really happen in the raging of a Tempest1. It is for the same reason, that I preferthefollowing Description of a Ship in a Storm, which the Psalmist has made, before any other I have ever met with.They that go down to the Sea in Ships, that do Business in great Waters: These see the Works of the Lord, and his Wonders in the Deep. For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy Wind, which lifteth up the Waters thereof. They mount up to the Heaven, they go down again to the Depths, their Soul is melted because of Trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken Man, and are at their Wits End. Then they cry unto the Lord in their Trouble, and he bringeth them out of their Distresses. He maketh the Storm a Calm, so that the Waves thereof are still. Then they are glad because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their deSired Haven.2By the way, how much more comfortable, as well as rational, is this System of the Psalmist, than the Pagan Scheme inVirgil, and other Poets, where one Deity is represented as raising a Storm, and another as laying it? Were we only to consider the Sublime in this Piece of Poetry, what can be nobler than the Idea it gives us of the Supreme Being thus raising the Tumult among the Elements, and recovering them out of their Confusion; thus troubling and becalming Nature?Great Painters do not only give us Landskips of Gardens, Groves, and Meadows, but very often employ their Pencils upon Sea-Pieces: I could wish you would follow their Example. If this small Sketch may deserve a Place among your Works, Ishallaccompany it with a divine Ode, made by a Gentleman3upon the Conclusion of his Travels.Ir1c2IHow are thy Servants blest, O Lord!How sure is their Defence!Eternal Wisdom is their Guide,Their Help Omnipotence.IIIn foreign Realms, and Lands remote,Supported by thy Care,Thro' burning Climes I pass'd unhurt,And breath'd in tainted Air.IIIThy Mercy sweeten'd ev'ry Soil,Made ev'ry Region please;The hoary Alpine Hills it warm'd,And smooth'd the Tyrrhene Seas:IVThink, O my Soul, devoutly think,How with affrighted EyesThou saw'st the wide extended DeepIn all its Horrors rise!VConfusion dwelt in ev'ry Face,And Fear in ev'ry Heart;When Waves on Waves, and Gulphs in Gulphs,O'ercame the Pilot's Art.VIYet then from all my Griefs, O Lord,Thy Mercy set me free,Whilst in the Confidence of Pray'rMy Soul took hold on thee;VIIFor tho' in dreadful Whirles we hungHigh on the broken Wave,I knew thou wert not slow to Hear,Nor impotent to Save.VIIIThe Storm was laid, the Winds retir'd,Obedient to thy Will;The Sea that roar'd at thy Command,At thy Command was still.IXIn midst of Dangers, Fears and Death,Thy Goodness I'll adore,And praise Thee for Thy Mercies past;And humbly hope for more.XMy Life, if thou preserv'st my Life,Thy Sacrifice shall be;And Death, if Death must be my Doom,Shall join my Soul to thee.
They that go down to the Sea in Ships, that do Business in great Waters: These see the Works of the Lord, and his Wonders in the Deep. For he commandeth and raiseth the stormy Wind, which lifteth up the Waters thereof. They mount up to the Heaven, they go down again to the Depths, their Soul is melted because of Trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken Man, and are at their Wits End. Then they cry unto the Lord in their Trouble, and he bringeth them out of their Distresses. He maketh the Storm a Calm, so that the Waves thereof are still. Then they are glad because they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their deSired Haven.2
O.
4
Footnote 1:
On the Sublime
, § 10, where he compares a description of the terrors of the sea in a lost poem on the Arimaspians, by Aristaeus the Procomnesian, with the passage in the 15th Book of the
Iliad
, which Pope thus translates:
He bursts upon them all:Bursts as a wave that from the cloud impends,And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;White are the decks with foam; the winds aloudHowl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud:Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears,And instant death on every wave appears.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
Psalm
cvii. 23-30.
return
Footnote 3:
Addison.
return
Footnote 4:
Appended to this number is the following
Advertisement
.
The Author of theSpectatorhaving received the Pastoral Hymn in his441st Paper, set to Musick by one of the most Eminent Composers of our own Country and by a Foreigner, who has not put his name to his ingenious Letter, thinks himself obliged to return his thanks to those Gentlemen for the Honour they have done him.
return
Contents
Domus et placens Uxor.Hor.translation
I have very long entertain'd an Ambition to make the Word
Wife
the most agreeable and delightful Name in Nature. If it be not so in it self, all the wiser Part of Mankind from the Beginning of the World to this Day has consented in an Error: But our Unhappiness in
England
has been, that a few loose Men of Genius for Pleasure, have turn'd it all to the Gratification of ungovern'd De
Sir
es, in spite of good Sense, Form and Order; when, in truth, any Satisfaction beyond the Boundaries of Reason, is but a Step towards Madness and Folly. But is the Sense of Joy and Accomplishment of De
Sir
e no way to be indulged or attain'd? and have we Appetites given us not to be at all gratify'd? Yes certainly. Marriage is an Institution calculated for a constant Scene of as much Delight as our Being is capable of. Two Persons who have chosen each other out of all the Species, with design to be each other's mutual Comfort and Entertainment, have in that Action bound themselves to be good-humour'd, affable, discreet, forgiving, patient and joyful, with respect to each other's Frailties and Perfections, to the End of their Lives. The wiser of the two (and it always happens one of them is such) will for her or his own sake, keep things from Outrage with the utmost Sanctity. When this Union is thus preserved (as I have often said) the most indifferent Circumstance administers Delight. Their Condition is an endless Source of new Gratifications. The married Man can say, If I am unacceptable to all the World beside, there is one whom I entirely love, that will receive me with Joy and Transport, and think herself obliged to double her Kindness and Caresses of me from the Gloom with which she sees me overcast. I need not dissemble the Sorrow of my Heart to be agreeable there, that very Sorrow quickens her Affection.
This Passion towards each other, when once well fixed, enters into the very Constitution, and the Kindness flows as easily and silently as the Blood in the Veins. When this Affection is enjoy'd in the most sublime Degree, unskilful Eyes see nothing of it; but when it is subject to be chang'd, and has an Allay in it that may make it end in Distaste, it is apt to break into Rage, or overflow into Fondness, before the rest of the World.
Uxander
and
Viramira
are amorous and young, and have been married these two Years; yet do they so much distinguish each other in Company, that in your Conversation with the Dear Things you are still put to a Sort of Cross-Purposes. Whenever you address your self in ordinary Discourse to
Viramira
, she turns her Head another way, and the Answer is made to the dear
Uxander
: If you tell a merry Tale, the Application is still directed to her Dear; and when she should commend you, she says to him, as if he had spoke it, That is, my Dear, so pretty—This puts me in mind of what I have somewhere read in the admired Memoirs of the famous
Cervantes
, where, while honest
Sancho Pana
is putting some necessary humble Question concerning
Rozinante
, his Supper, or his Lodgings, the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance is ever improving the harmless lowly Hints of his Squire to the poetical Conceit, Rapture and Flight, in Contemplation of the dear
Dulcinea
of his Affections.
On the other side,
Dictamnus
and
Moria
are ever squabbling, and you may observe them all the time they are in Company in a State of Impatience. As
Uxander
and
Viramira
wish you all gone, that they may be at freedom for Dalliance;
Dictamnus
and
Moria
wait your Absence, that they may speak their harsh Interpretations on each other's Words and Actions during the time you were with them.
It is certain that the greater Part of the Evils attending this Condition of Life, arises from Fashion. Prejudice in this Case is turn'd the wrong way, and instead of expecting more Happiness than we shall meet with in it, we are laugh'd into a Prepossession, that we shall be disappointed if we hope for lasting Satisfactions.
With all Persons who have made good Sense the Rule of Action, Marriage is describ'd as the State capable of the highest human Felicity.
Tully
has Epistles full of affectionate Pleasure, when he writes to his Wife, or speaks of his Children. But
above
all the Hints of this kind I have met with in Writers of ancient date, I am pleas'd with an Epigram of
Martial
1
in honour of the Beauty of his Wife
Cleopatra
. Commentators say it was written the day after his Wedding-Night. When his Spouse was retir'd to the Bathing-room in the Heat of the Day, he, it seems, came in upon her when she was just going into the Water. To her Beauty and Carriage on this occasion we owe the following Epigram, which I shew'd my Friend
Will. Honeycomb
in
French
, who has translated it as follows, without understanding the Original. I expect it will please the
English
better than the
Latin
Reader.
When my bright Consort, now nor Wife nor Maid,Asham'd and wanton, of Embrace afraid,Fled to the Streams, the Streams my Fair betray'd;To my fond Eyes she all transparent stood,She blush'd, I smil'd at the slight covering Flood.Thus thro' the Glass the Lovely Lilly glows,Thus thro' the ambient Gem shines forth the Rose.I saw new Charms, and plung'd to seize my Store,Kisses I snatch'd, the Waves prevented more.
My Friend would not allow that this luscious Account could be given of a Wife, and therefore used the Word
Consort
; which, he learnedly said, would serve for a Mistress as well, and give a more Gentlemanly Turn to the Epigram. But, under favour of him and all other such fine Gentlemen, I cannot be persuaded but that the Passion a Bridegroom has for a virtuous young Woman, will,
by
little and little, grow into Friendship, and then it is ascended to
a
2
higher Pleasure than it was in its first Fervour. Without this happens, he is a very unfortunate Man who has enter'd into this State, and left the Habitudes of Life he might have enjoy'd with a faithful Friend. But when the Wife proves capable of filling serious as well as joyous Hours, she brings Happiness unknown to Friendship itself.
Spencer
speaks
of each kind of Love with great Justice, and attributes the highest Praise to Friendship; and indeed there is no disputing that Point, but by making that Friendship take
Place
3
between two married Persons.
Hard is the Doubt, and difficult to deem,When all three kinds of Love together meet,And to dispart the Heart with Power extreme,Whether shall weigh the Ballance down; to wit,The dear Affection unto Kindred sweet,Or raging Fire of Love to Womenkind,Or Zeal of Friends combin'd by Virtues meet.But, of them all, the Band of virtuous MindMethinks the gentle Heart should most assured bind.For natural Affection soon doth cease,And quenched is withCupid'sgreater Flame;But faithful Friendship doth them both suppress,And them with mastering Discipline does tame,Through Thoughts aspiring to eternal Fame.For as the Soul doth rule the Earthly Mass,And all the Service of the Body frame;So Love of Soul doth Love of Body pass,No less than perfect Gold surmounts the meanest Brass.
T.