I come now to that point of Precedency which is settled among the three Learned Professions, by the Wisdom of our Laws. I need not here take Notice of the Rank which is allotted to every Doctor in each of these Professions, who are all of them, though not so high as Knights, yet a Degree above Squires; this last Order of Men being the illiterate Body of the Nation, are consequently thrown together into a Class below the three Learned Professions. I mention this for the sake of several Rural 'Squires, whose Reading does not rise so high as to
the Present State of England
, and who are often apt to usurp that Precedency which by the Laws of their Country is not due to them. Their Want of Learning, which has planted them in this Station, may in some measure extenuate their Misdemeanour; and our Professors ought to pardon them when they offend in this Particular, considering that they are in a State of Ignorance, or, as we usually say, do not know their Right Hand from their Left.
There is another Tribe of Persons who are Retainers to the Learned World, and who regulate themselves upon all Occasions by several Laws peculiar to their Body. I mean the Players or Actors of both Sexes. Among these it is a standing and uncontroverted Principle, that a Tragedian always takes place of a Comedian; and 'tis very well known the merry Drolls who make us laugh are always placed at the lower End of the Table, and in every Entertainment give way to the Dignity of the Buskin. It is a Stage Maxim,
Once a King, and always a King
. For this Reason it would be thought very absurd in Mr. Bullock, notwithstanding the Height and Gracefulness of his Person, to sit at the Right Hand of an Hero, tho' he were but five Foot high. The same Distinction is observed among the Ladies of the Theatre. Queens and Heroines preserve their Rank in private Conversation, while those who are Waiting-Women and Maids of Honour upon the Stage, keep their Distance also behind the Scenes.
I shall only add, that by a Parity of Reason, all Writers of Tragedy look upon it as their due to be seated, served, or saluted before Comick Writers: Those who deal in Tragi-Comedy usually taking their Seats between the Authors of either Side. There has been a long Dispute for Precedency between the Tragick and Heroick Poets.
Aristotle
would have the latter yield the
Pas
to the former, but Mr.
Dryden
and many others would never submit to this Decision. Burlesque Writers pay the same Deference to the Heroick, as Comick Writers to their Serious Brothers in the Drama.
By this short Table of Laws, Order is kept up, and Distinction preserved in the whole Republick of Letters.
O.
Contents
Sic visum Veneri; cui placet imparesFormas atque animos sub juga aheneaSævo mittere cum joco.Hor.translation
It is very usual for those who have been severe upon Marriage, in some part or other of their Lives to enter into the Fraternity which they have ridiculed, and to see their Raillery return upon their own Heads. I scarce ever knew a Woman-hater that did not, sooner or later, pay for it. Marriage, which is a Blessing to another Man, falls upon such a one as a Judgment.
Mr.
Congreve's Old Batchelor
1
is set forth to us with much Wit and Humour, as an Example of this kind. In short, those who have most distinguished themselves by railing at the Sex in general, very often make an honourable Amends, by chusing one of the most worthless Persons of it, for a Companion and Yoke-fellow.
Hymen
takes his Revenge in kind, on those who turn his Mysteries into Ridicule.
My Friend
Will Honeycomb
, who was so unmercifully witty upon the Women, in a couple of Letters, which I lately communicated to the Publick, has given the Ladies ample Satisfaction by marrying a Farmer's Daughter; a piece of News which came to our Club by the last Post. The
Templer
is very positive that he has married a Dairy-maid: But
Will,
in his Letter to me on this Occasion, sets the best Face upon the Matter that he can, and gives a more tollerable Account of his Spouse. I must confess I suspected something more than ordinary, when upon opening the Letter I found that
Will
was fallen off from his former Gayety, having changed
Dear Spec.
which was his usual Salute at the Beginning of the Letter, into
My Worthy Friend
, and subscribed himself in the latter End of it at full length
William Honeycomb
. In short, the gay, the loud,
the
vain
Will Honeycomb
, who had made Love to every great Fortune that has appeared in Town for
above
2
thirty Years together, and boasted of Favours from Ladies whom he had never seen, is at length wedded to a plain Country Girl.
His Letter gives us the Picture of a converted Rake. The sober Character of the Husband is dashed with the Man of the Town, and enlivened with those little Cant-phrases which have made my Friend
Will
often thought very pretty Company. But let us hear what he says for himself.
My Worthy Friend,I question not but you, and the rest of my Acquaintance, wonder that I, who have lived in the Smoak and Gallantries of the Town for thirty Years together, should all on a sudden grow fond of a Country Life.Hadnot my Dogof a3Steward run away as he did, without making up his Accounts, I had still been immersed in Sin and Sea-Coal. But since my late forced Visit to my Estate, I am so pleased with it, that I am resolved to live and die upon it. I am every Day abroad among my Acres, and can scarce forbear filling my Letter with Breezes, Shades, Flowers, Meadows, and purling Streams. The Simplicity of Manners, which I have heard you so often speak of, and which appears here in Perfection, charms me wonderfully. As an Instance of it, I must acquaint you, and by your means the whole Club, that I have lately married one of my Tenants Daughters. She is born of honest Parents, and though she has no Portion, she has a great deal of Virtue. The natural Sweetness and Innocence of her Behaviour, the Freshness of her Complection, the unaffected Turn of her Shape and Person, shot me through and through every time I saw her, and did more Execution upon me in Grogram, than the greatest Beauty in Town or Court had ever done in Brocade. In short, she is such an one as promises me a good Heir to my Estate; and if by her means I cannot leave to my Children what are falsely called the Gifts of Birth; high Titles and Alliances: I hope to convey to them the more real and valuable Gifts of Birth; strong Bodies, and Healthy Constitutions. As for your fine Women, I need not tell thee that I know them. I have had my share in their Graces, but no more of that. It shall be my Business hereafter to live the Life of an honest Man, and to act as becomes the Master of a Family. I question not but I shall draw upon me the Raillery of the Town, and be treated to the Tune of theMarriage-Hater match'd;but I am prepared for it. I have been as witty upon others in my time. To tell thee truly, I saw such a Tribe of Fashionable young fluttering Coxcombs shot up, that I did not think my Post of anhomme de ruelleany longer tenable. I felt a certain Stiffness in my Limbs, which entirely destroyed that Jauntyness of Air I was once Master of. Besides, for I may now confess my Age to thee, I have been eight and forty above these Twelve Years. Since my Retirement into the Country will make a Vacancy in the Club, I could wish you would fill up my Place with my FriendTom Dapperwit. He has an infinite deal of Fire, and knows the Town. For my own part, as I have said before, I shall endeavour to live hereafter suitable to a Man in my Station, as a prudent Head of a Family, a good Husband, a careful Father (when it shall so happen) and asYour most Sincere Friend,and Humble Servant,William Honeycomb.
O.
Footnote 1:
Heartwell in the play of the
Old Batchelor
. Addison here continues the winding up of the
Spectator
by finally disposing of another member of the club.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
about
return
Footnote 3:
the
return
Contents
Qui mare et terras variisque mundumTemperat horis:Unde nil majus generatur ipso,Nec viget quicquam simile aut secundum.Hor.translation
Simonides
being
ask'd by
Dionysius
the Tyrant what God was, de
Sir
ed a Day's time to consider of it before he made his Reply. When the Day was expired, he de
Sir
ed two Days; and afterwards, instead of returning his Answer, demanded still double the Time to consider of it. This great Poet and Philosopher, the more he contemplated the Nature of the Deity, found that he waded but the more out of his Depth; and that he lost himself in the Thought, instead of finding an End of it
1
.
If we consider the Idea which wise Men, by the Light of Reason, have framed of the Divine Being, it amounts to this: That he has in him all the Perfection of a Spiritual Nature; and since we have no Notion of any kind of spiritual Perfection but what we discover in our own Souls, we joyn Infinitude to each kind of these Perfections, and what is a Faculty in an human Soul becomes an Attribute in God.
We
exist in Place and Time, the Divine Being fills the Immensity of Space with his Presence, and Inhabits Eternity.
We
are possessed of a little Power and a little Knowledge, the Divine Being is Almighty and Omniscient. In short, by adding Infinity to any kind of Perfection we enjoy, and by joyning all these different kinds of Perfections in one Being, we form our Idea of the great Sovereign of Nature.
Though every one who thinks must have made this Observation, I shall
produce
Mr.
Locke's
Authority to the same purpose, out of his
Essay on Human Understanding.
If we examine theIdeawe have of the incomprehensible Supreme Being, we shall find, that we come by it the same way; and that the complexIdeaswe have both of God and separate Spirits, are made up of the simpleIdeaswe receive fromReflection:e. g. having from what we experiment in our selves, got theIdeasof Existence and Duration, of Knowledge and Power, of Pleasure and Happiness, and of several other Qualities and Powers, which it is better to have, than to be without; when we would frame anIdeathe most suitable we can to the Supreme Being, we enlarge every one of these with ourIdeaof Infinity; and so putting them together, make our ComplexIdea of God.2
It is not impossible that there may be many kinds of Spiritual Perfection, besides those which are lodged in an human Soul; but it is impossible that we should have Ideas of any kinds of Perfection, except those of which we have some small Rays and short imperfect Strokes in our selves. It would be therefore a very high Presumption to determine whether the Supream Being has not many more Attributes than those which enter into our Conceptions of him. This is certain, that if there be any kind of Spiritual Perfection which is not marked out in an human Soul, it belongs in its Fulness to the Divine Nature.
Several eminent Philosophers have imagined that the Soul, in her separate State, may have new Faculties springing up in her, which she is not capable of exerting during her present Union with the Body; and whether these Faculties may not correspond with other Attributes in the Divine Nature, and open to us hereafter new Matter of Wonder and Adoration, we are altogether ignorant.
This
, as I have said before, we ought to acquiesce in, that the Sovereign Being, the great Author of Nature, has in him all possible Perfection, as well in
Kind
as in
Degree
; to speak according to our Methods of
conceiving
3
. I shall only add under this Head, that when we have raised our Notion of this Infinite Being as high as it is possible for the Mind of Man to go, it will fall infinitely short of what He really is.
There is no end of his Greatness
: The most exalted Creature he has made, is only capable of adoring it, none but himself can comprehend it.
The Advice of
the
Son of
Sirach
is very just and sublime in this Light.
By his Word all things consist. We may speak much, and yet come short: wherefore in sum, he is all. How shall we be able to magnify him? For he is great above all his Works. The Lord is terrible and very great; and marvellous in his Power. When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as you can; for even yet will he far exceed. And when you exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary; for you can never go far enough. Who hath seen him, that he might tell us? And who can magnify him as he is? There are yet hid greater things than these be, for we have seen but a few of his Works.4
I have here only considered the Supreme Being by the Light of Reason and Philosophy. If we would see him in all the Wonders of his Mercy we must have recourse to Revelation, which represents him to us, not only as infinitely Great and Glorious, but as infinitely Good and Just in his Dispensations towards Man. But as this is a Theory which falls under every one's Consideration, tho' indeed it can never be sufficiently considered, I shall here only take notice of that habitual Worship and Veneration which we ought to pay to this Almighty Being. We should often refresh our Minds with the Thought of him, and annihilate our selves before him, in the Contemplation of our own Worthlessness, and of his transcendent Excellency and Perfection. This would imprint in our Minds such a constant and uninterrupted Awe and Veneration as that which I am here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant Prayer, and reasonable Humiliation of the Soul before him who made it.
This would effectually kill in us all the little Seeds of Pride, Vanity and Self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the Minds of such whose Thoughts turn more on those comparative Advantages which they enjoy over some of their Fellow-Creatures, than on that infinite Distance which is placed between them and the Supreme Model of all Perfection. It would likewise quicken our De
Sir
es and Endeavours of uniting our selves to him by all the Acts of Religion and Virtue.
Such an habitual Homage to the Supreme Being would, in a particular manner, banish from among us that prevailing Impiety of using his Name on the most trivial Occasions.
I find the following Passage in an excellent Sermon, preached at the Funeral of
a
Gentleman who was an Honour to his Country, and a more diligent as well as successful Enquirer into the Works of Nature, than any other our Nation has ever produced
5
.
'He had the profoundest Veneration for the Great God of Heaven and Earth that I have ever observed in any Person. The very Name of God was never mentioned by him without a Pause and a visible Stop in his Discourse; in which, one that knew him most particularly above twenty Years, has told me, that he was so exact, that he does not remember to have observed him once to fail in it.'
Every one knows the Veneration which was paid by the
Jews
to a Name so great, wonderful and holy. They would not let it enter even into their religious Discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so tremendous a Name in the ordinary Expressions of their Anger, Mirth, and most impertinent Passions? Of those who admit it into the most familiar Questions and Assertions, ludicrous Phrases and Works of Humour? not to mention those who violate it by solemn Perjuries? It would be an Affront to Reason to endeavour to set forth the Horror and Prophaneness of such a Practice. The very mention of it exposes it sufficiently to those in whom the Light of Nature, not to say Religion, is not utterly extinguished.
O.
Footnote 1:
This story is taken from Book I. of Cicero
De Naturâ Deorum.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
Human Understanding
, Book II. ch. xxiii. § 33.
return
Footnote 3:
conceiving him.
return
Footnote 4:
Ecclus
. xliii. 26-32.
return
Footnote 5:
Bishop Burnet's sermon at the funeral of the Hon. Robert Boyle (who died in 1691).
return
Contents
—Fungor vice cotis, acutumReddere quæ ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.Hor.translation
It is a very honest Action to be studious to produce other Men's Merit; and I make no scruple of saying I have as much of this Temper as any Man in the World. It would not be a thing to be bragged of, but that it is what any Man may be Master of who will take Pains enough for it. Much Observation of the Unworthiness in being pained at the Excellence of another, will bring you to a Scorn of yourself for that Unwillingness: And when you have got so far, you will find it a greater Pleasure than you ever before knew, to be zealous in promoting the Fame and Welfare of the Praise-worthy. I do not speak this as pretending to be a mortified self-denying Man, but as one who has turned his Ambition into a right Channel. I
claim
to my self the Merit of having extorted excellent Productions from a Person of the greatest Abilities
1
, who would not have let them appear by any other Means; to have animated a few young Gentlemen into worthy Pursuits, who will be a Glory to our Age; and at all Times, and by all possible Means in my Power, undermined the Interests of Ignorance, Vice, and Folly, and attempted to substitute in their Stead, Learning, Piety, and good Sense. It is from this honest Heart that I find myself honoured as a Gentleman-Usher to the Arts and Sciences. Mr.
Tickell
and Mr.
Pope
have, it seems, this Idea of me. The former has writ me an excellent Paper of Verses in Praise, forsooth, of my self; and
the
other enclosed for my perusal an admirable Poem
2
, which, I hope, will shortly see the Light. In the mean time I cannot suppress any Thought of his, but insert his Sentiment about the dying Words of
Adrian
. I won't determine in the Case he mentions; but have thus much to say in favour of his Argument, that many of his own Works which I have seen, convince me that very pretty and very sublime Sentiments may be lodged in the same Bosom without diminution to its Greatness.
Mr. SPECTATOR,'I was the other day in Company with five or six Men of some Learning; where chancing to mention the famous Verses which the EmperorAdrianspoke on his Death-bed, they were all agreed that 'twas a Piece of Gayety unworthy that Prince in those Circumstances. I could not but dissent from this Opinion: Methinks it was by no means a gay, but a very serious Soliloquy to his Soul at the Point of his Departure: in which Sense I naturally took the Verses at my first reading them when I was very young, and before I knew what Interpretation the World generally put upon them:'Animula vagula, blandula,Hospes Comesque corporis,Quæ nunc abibis in loca?Pallidula, rigida, nudula,Nec (ut soles) dabis Joca!'Alas, my Soul! thou pleasing Companion of this Body, thou fleeting thing that art now deserting it! whither art thou flying? to what unknown Region? Thou art all trembling, fearful, and pensive. Now what is become of thy former Wit and Humour? thou shall jest and be gay no more.'I confess I cannot apprehend where lies the Trifling in all this; 'tis the most natural and obvious Reflection imaginable to a dying Man: and if we consider the Emperor was a Heathen, that Doubt concerning the Future Fate of his Soul will seem so far from being the Effect of Want of Thought, that 'twas scarce reasonable he should think otherwise; not to mention that here is a plain Confession included of his Belief in its Immortality. The diminutive Epithets ofVagula, Blandula, and the rest, appear not to me as Expressions of Levity, but rather of Endearment and Concern; such as we find inCatullus, and the Authors ofHendeca-syllabiafter him, where they are used to express the utmost Love and Tenderness for their Mistresses—Ifyouthink me right in my Notion of the last Words ofAdrian, be pleased to insert this in theSpectator; if not, to suppress it.'3I am, &c.Tothesupposed Author of theSpectator.In Courts licentious, and a shameless Stage,How long the War shall Wit with Virtue wage?Enchanted by this prostituted Fair,Our Youth run headlong in the fatal Snare;In height of Rapture clasp unheeded Pains,And suck Pollution thro' their tingling Veins.Thy spotless Thoughts unshock'd the Priest may hear,And the pure Vestal in her Bosom wear.To conscious Blushes and diminish'd Pride,Thy Glass betrays what treach'rous Love would hide;Nor harsh thy Precepts, but infused by stealth,Please while they cure, and cheat us into Health.Thy Works inChloe'sToilet gain a part,And with his Tailor share the the Fopling's Heart:Lash'd in thy Satire, the penurious CitLaughs at himself, and finds no harm in Wit:From Felon Gamesters the raw Squire is free,AndBritainowes her rescu'd Oaks to thee.His Miss the frolick Viscount dreads to toast,Or his third Cure the shallow Templar boast;And the rash Fool who scorn'd the beaten Road,Dares quake at Thunder, and confess his God.The brainless Stripling,—who, expell'd to Town,Damn'd the stiff College and pedantick Gown,Aw'd by thy Name, is dumb, and thrice a WeekSpells uncouthLatin,and pretends toGreek.A sauntring Tribe! such born to wide Estates,With Yea and No in Senates hold Debates:At length despis'd, each to his Fields retires,First with the Dogs, and King amidst the Squires;From Pert to Stupid sinks supinely down,In Youth a Coxcomb, and in Age a Clown.Such Readers scorned, thou wings't thy daring FlightAbove the Stars, and tread'st the Fields of Light;Fame, Heav'n and Hell, are thy exalted Theme,And Visions such asJovehimself might dream;Man sunk to Slav'ry, tho' to Glory born,Heaven's Pride when upright, and depraved his Scorn.Such Hints alone couldBritish Virgillend,And thou alone deserve from such a Friend:A Debt so borrow'd, is illustrious Shame,And Fame when shar'd with him is double Fame.So flush'd with Sweets, by Beauty's Queen bestow'd,With more than mortal Charms.Æneasglow'd.Such genrous StrifesEugeneandMarlbro'try,And as in Glory, so in Friendship vie.Permit these Lines by Thee to live—nor blameA Muse that pants and languishes for Fame;That fears to sink when humbler Themes she sings,Lost in the Mass of mean forgotten things.Receiv'd by Thee, I prophesy my RhymesThe Praise of Virgins in succeeding Times:Mix'd with thy Works, their Life no Bounds shall see,But stand protected, as inspir'd by thee.So some weak Shoot, which else would poorly rise,Jove'sTree adopts, and lifts him to the Skies;Through the new Pupil fost'ring Juices flow,Thrust forth the Gems, and give the Flow'rs to blowAloft; immortal reigns the Plant unknown,With borrow'd Life, and Vigour not his own.4To theSpectator-General.Mr. John Slyhumbly sheweth,'That upon reading the Deputation given to the said Mr.John Sly, all Persons passing by his Observatory behaved themselves with the same Decorum, as if your Honour your self had been present.That your said Officer is preparing, according to your Honour's secret Instructions, Hats for the several kind of Heads that make Figures in the Realms ofGreat Britain, with Cocks significant of their Powers and Faculties.That your said Officer has taken due Notice of your Instructions and Admonitions concerning the Internals of the Head from the outward Form of the same. His Hats for Men of the Faculties of Law and Physick do but just turn up, to give a little Life to their Sagacity; his military Hats glare full in the Face; and he has prepared a familiar easy Cock for all good Companions between the above-mentioned Extreams. For this End he has consulted the most Learned of his Acquaintance for the true Form and Dimensions of theLepidum Caput, and made a Hat fit for it.Your said Officer does further represent, That the young Divines about Town are many of them got into the Cock Military, and deSires your Instructions therein.That the Town has been for several Days very well behaved; and further your said Officer saith not.
'Animula vagula, blandula,Hospes Comesque corporis,Quæ nunc abibis in loca?Pallidula, rigida, nudula,Nec (ut soles) dabis Joca!'Alas, my Soul! thou pleasing Companion of this Body, thou fleeting thing that art now deserting it! whither art thou flying? to what unknown Region? Thou art all trembling, fearful, and pensive. Now what is become of thy former Wit and Humour? thou shall jest and be gay no more.
In Courts licentious, and a shameless Stage,How long the War shall Wit with Virtue wage?Enchanted by this prostituted Fair,Our Youth run headlong in the fatal Snare;In height of Rapture clasp unheeded Pains,And suck Pollution thro' their tingling Veins.Thy spotless Thoughts unshock'd the Priest may hear,And the pure Vestal in her Bosom wear.To conscious Blushes and diminish'd Pride,Thy Glass betrays what treach'rous Love would hide;Nor harsh thy Precepts, but infused by stealth,Please while they cure, and cheat us into Health.Thy Works inChloe'sToilet gain a part,And with his Tailor share the the Fopling's Heart:Lash'd in thy Satire, the penurious CitLaughs at himself, and finds no harm in Wit:From Felon Gamesters the raw Squire is free,AndBritainowes her rescu'd Oaks to thee.His Miss the frolick Viscount dreads to toast,Or his third Cure the shallow Templar boast;And the rash Fool who scorn'd the beaten Road,Dares quake at Thunder, and confess his God.The brainless Stripling,—who, expell'd to Town,Damn'd the stiff College and pedantick Gown,Aw'd by thy Name, is dumb, and thrice a WeekSpells uncouthLatin,and pretends toGreek.A sauntring Tribe! such born to wide Estates,With Yea and No in Senates hold Debates:At length despis'd, each to his Fields retires,First with the Dogs, and King amidst the Squires;From Pert to Stupid sinks supinely down,In Youth a Coxcomb, and in Age a Clown.Such Readers scorned, thou wings't thy daring FlightAbove the Stars, and tread'st the Fields of Light;Fame, Heav'n and Hell, are thy exalted Theme,And Visions such asJovehimself might dream;Man sunk to Slav'ry, tho' to Glory born,Heaven's Pride when upright, and depraved his Scorn.Such Hints alone couldBritish Virgillend,And thou alone deserve from such a Friend:A Debt so borrow'd, is illustrious Shame,And Fame when shar'd with him is double Fame.So flush'd with Sweets, by Beauty's Queen bestow'd,With more than mortal Charms.Æneasglow'd.Such genrous StrifesEugeneandMarlbro'try,And as in Glory, so in Friendship vie.Permit these Lines by Thee to live—nor blameA Muse that pants and languishes for Fame;That fears to sink when humbler Themes she sings,Lost in the Mass of mean forgotten things.Receiv'd by Thee, I prophesy my RhymesThe Praise of Virgins in succeeding Times:Mix'd with thy Works, their Life no Bounds shall see,But stand protected, as inspir'd by thee.So some weak Shoot, which else would poorly rise,Jove'sTree adopts, and lifts him to the Skies;Through the new Pupil fost'ring Juices flow,Thrust forth the Gems, and give the Flow'rs to blowAloft; immortal reigns the Plant unknown,With borrow'd Life, and Vigour not his own.4
T.