No. 70

Peru

, and the Diamond Necklace out of the Bowels of

Indostan

.

If we consider our own Country in its natural Prospect, without any of the Benefits and Advantages of Commerce, what a barren uncomfortable Spot of Earth falls to our Share!

Natural

Historians tell us, that no Fruit grows Originally among us, besides Hips and Haws, Acorns and Pig-Nutts, with other Delicates of the like Nature; That our Climate of itself, and without the Assistances of Art, can make no further Advances towards a Plumb than to a Sloe, and carries an Apple to no greater a Perfection than a Crab: That

our

2

Melons, our Peaches, our Figs, our Apricots, and Cherries, are Strangers among us, imported in different Ages, and naturalized in our

English

Gardens; and that they would all degenerate and fall away into the Trash of our own Country, if they were wholly neglected by the Planter, and left to the Mercy of our Sun and Soil. Nor has Traffick more enriched our Vegetable World, than it has improved the whole Face of Nature among us. Our Ships are laden with the Harvest of every Climate: Our Tables are stored with Spices, and Oils, and Wines: Our Rooms are filled with Pyramids of

China

, and adorned with the Workmanship of

Japan

: Our Morning's Draught comes to us from the remotest Corners of the Earth: We repair our Bodies by the Drugs of

America

, and repose ourselves under

Indian

Canopies. My Friend Sir

Andrew

calls the Vineyards of

France

our Gardens; the Spice-Islands our Hot-beds; the

Persians

our Silk-Weavers, and the

Chinese

our Potters. Nature indeed furnishes us with the bare Necessaries of Life, but Traffick gives us greater Variety of what is Useful, and at the same time supplies us with every thing that is Convenient and Ornamental.

Nor

is it the least Part of this our Happiness, that whilst we enjoy the remotest Products of the North and South, we are free from those Extremities of Weather

which

3

give them Birth; That our Eyes are refreshed with the green Fields of

Britain

, at the same time that our Palates are feasted with Fruits that rise between the Tropicks.

For these Reasons there are no more useful Members in a Commonwealth than Merchants. They knit Mankind together in a mutual Intercourse of good Offices, distribute the Gifts of Nature, find Work for the Poor, add Wealth to the Rich, and Magnificence to the Great. Our

English

Merchant converts the Tin of his own Country into Gold, and exchanges his Wool for Rubies. The

Mahometans

are clothed in our

British

Manufacture, and the Inhabitants of the frozen Zone warmed with the Fleeces of our Sheep.

When I have been upon the

'Change

, I have often fancied one of our old Kings standing in Person, where he is represented in Effigy, and looking down upon the wealthy Concourse of People with which that Place is every Day filled. In this Case, how would he be surprized to hear all the Languages of

Europe

spoken in this little Spot of his former Dominions, and to see so many private Men, who in his Time would have been the Vassals of some powerful Baron, negotiating like Princes for greater Sums of Mony than were formerly to be met with in the Royal Treasury! Trade, without enlarging the

British

Territories, has given us a kind of additional Empire: It has multiplied the Number of the Rich, made our Landed Estates infinitely more Valuable than they were formerly, and added to them an Accession of other Estates as Valuable as the Lands themselves.

C.

Footnote 1:

A reference to the

Spectator's

voyage to Grand Cairo mentioned in

No. 1.

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2:

"these Fruits, in their present State, as well as our"

return

Footnote 3:

that

return

Contents

Interdum vulgus rectum videt.Hor.translation

When I travelled, I took a particular Delight in hearing the Songs and Fables that are come from Father to Son, and are most in Vogue among the common People of the Countries through which I passed; for it is impossible that any thing should be universally tasted and approved by a Multitude, tho' they are only the Rabble of a Nation, which hath not in it some peculiar Aptness to please and gratify the Mind of Man. Human Nature is the same in all reasonable Creatures; and whatever falls in with it, will meet with Admirers amongst Readers of all Qualities and

Conditions

.

Molière

, as we are told by Monsieur

Boileau

, used to read all his Comedies to

an

1

old Woman

who

2

was his Housekeeper, as she sat with him at her Work by the Chimney-Corner; and could foretel the Success of his Play in the Theatre, from the Reception it met at his Fire-side: For he tells us the Audience always followed the old Woman, and never failed to laugh in the same Place

3

.

I know nothing which more shews the essential and inherent Perfection of Simplicity of Thought, above that which I call the Gothick Manner in Writing, than this, that the first pleases all Kinds of Palates, and the latter only such as have formed to themselves a wrong artificial Taste upon little fanciful Authors and Writers of Epigram.

Homer

,

Virgil

, or

Milton

, so far as the Language of their Poems is understood, will please a Reader of plain common Sense, who would neither relish nor comprehend an Epigram of

Martial

, or a Poem of

Cowley

: So, on the contrary, an ordinary Song or Ballad that is the Delight of the common People, cannot fail to please all such Readers as are not unqualified for the Entertainment by their Affectation or Ignorance; and the Reason is plain, because the same Paintings of Nature which recommend it to the most ordinary Reader, will appear Beautiful to the most refined.

The old Song of

Chevey Chase

is the favourite Ballad of the common People of

England

; and

Ben Johnson

used to say he had rather have been the Author of it than of all his Works.

Sir

Philip Sidney

in his

Discourse of Poetry

4

speaks of it in the following Words;

I never heard the old Song ofPiercyandDouglas,that I found not my Heart more moved than with a Trumpet; and yet it is sung by some blind Crowder with no rougher Voice than rude Stile; which being so evil apparelled in the Dust and Cobweb of that uncivil Age, what would it work trimmed in the gorgeous Eloquence ofPindar?

For my own part I am so professed an Admirer of this antiquated Song, that I shall give my Reader a Critick upon it, without any further Apology for so doing.

The greatest Modern Criticks have laid it down as a Rule, that an Heroick Poem should be founded upon some important Precept of Morality, adapted to the Constitution of the Country in which the Poet writes.

Homer

and

Virgil

have formed their Plans in this View. As

Greece

was a Collection of many Governments, who suffered very much among themselves, and gave the

Persian

Emperor, who was their common Enemy, many Advantages over them by their mutual Jealousies and Animosities,

Homer

, in order to establish among them an Union, which was so necessary for their Safety, grounds his Poem upon the Discords of the several

Grecian

Princes who were engaged in a Confederacy against an

Asiatick

Prince, and the several Advantages which the Enemy gained by such their Discords.

At

the Time the Poem we are now treating of was written, the Dissentions of the Barons, who were then so many petty Princes, ran very high, whether they quarrelled among themselves, or with their Neighbours, and produced unspeakable Calamities to the Country

5

: The Poet, to deter Men from such unnatural Contentions, describes a bloody Battle and dreadful Scene of Death, occasioned by the mutual Feuds which reigned in the Families of an

English

and

Scotch

Nobleman: That he designed this for the Instruction of his Poem, we may learn from his four last Lines, in which, after the Example of the modern Tragedians, he draws from it a Precept for the Benefit of his Readers.

God save the King, and bless the LandIn Plenty, Joy, and Peace;And grant henceforth that foul Debate'Twixt Noblemen may cease.

The next Point observed by the greatest Heroic Poets, hath been to celebrate Persons and Actions which do Honour to their Country: Thus

Virgil's

Hero was the Founder of

Rome

,

Homer's

a Prince of

Greece

; and for this Reason

Valerius Flaccus

and

Statius

, who were both

Romans

, might be justly derided for having chosen the Expedition of the

Golden Fleece

, and the

Wars of Thebes

for the Subjects of their Epic Writings.

The Poet before us has not only found out an Hero in his own Country, but raises the Reputation of it by several beautiful Incidents.

The

English

are the first

who

6

take the Field, and the last

who

7

quit it. The

English

bring only Fifteen hundred to the Battle, the

Scotch

Two thousand. The

English

keep the Field with Fifty three: The

Scotch

retire with Fifty five: All the rest on each side being slain in Battle.

But

the most remarkable Circumstance of this kind, is the different Manner in which the

Scotch

and

English

Kings

receive

8

the News of this Fight, and of the great Men's Deaths who commanded in it.

This News was brought toEdinburgh,WhereScotland'sKing did reign,That brave EarlDouglassuddenlyWas with an Arrow slain.O heavy News, King James did say,Scotlandcan Witness be,I have not any Captain moreOf such Account as he.Like Tydings to KingHenrycameWithin as short a Space,ThatPiercyofNorthumberlandWas slain inChevy-Chase.Now God be with him, said our King,Sith 'twill no better be,I trust I have within my RealmFive hundred as good as he.Yet shall notScotnorScotlandsayBut I will Vengeance take,And be revenged on them allFor brave LordPiercy'sSake.This Vow full well the King performedAfter onHumble-down,In one Day fifty Knights were slain,With Lords of great Renown.And of the rest of small AccountDid many Thousands dye,&c.

At the same time that our Poet shews a laudable Partiality to his Countrymen, he represents the

Scots

after a Manner not unbecoming so bold and brave a People.

Earl Douglas on a milk-white Steed,Most like a Baron bold,Rode foremost of the CompanyWhose Armour shone like Gold.

His Sentiments and Actions are every Way suitable to an Hero.

One

of us two, says he, must dye: I am an Earl as well as your self, so that you can have no Pretence for refusing the Combat: However, says he, 'tis Pity, and indeed would be a Sin, that so many innocent Men should perish for our sakes, rather let you and I end our Quarrel

in single Fight.

9

Ere thus I will out-braved be,One of us two shall dye;I know thee well, an Earl thou art,Lord Piercy, so am I.But trust me, Piercy,Pity it were,And great Offence, to killAny of these our harmless Men,For they have done no Ill.Let thou and I the Battle try,And set our Men aside;Accurst be he, LordPiercysaid,By whom this is deny'd.

When these brave Men had distinguished themselves in the Battle and a single Combat with each other, in the Midst of a generous Parly, full of heroic Sentiments, the

Scotch

Earl falls; and with his dying Words encourages his Men to revenge his Death, representing to them, as the most bitter Circumstance of it, that his Rival saw him fall.

With that there came an Arrow keenOut of anEnglishBow,Which struck EarlDouglasto the HeartA deep and deadly Blow.Who never spoke more Words than these,Fight on, my merry Men all,For why, my Life is at an End,LordPiercy seesmy Fall.

Merry Men

, in the Language of those Times, is no more than a cheerful Word for Companions and Fellow-Soldiers. A Passage in the Eleventh Book of

Virgil's Æneid

is very much to be admired, where

Camilla

in her last Agonies instead of weeping over the Wound she had received, as one might have expected from a Warrior of her Sex, considers only (like the Hero of whom we are now speaking) how the Battle should be continued after her Death.

Tum sic exspirans, &c.A gathering Mist overclouds her chearful Eyes;And from her Cheeks the rosie Colour flies.Then turns to her, whom, of her Female Train,She trusted most, and thus she speaks with Pain.Acca, 'tis past! He swims before my Sight,Inexorable Death; and claims his Right.Bear my last Words to Turnus, fly with Speed,And bid him timely to my Charge succeed;Repel the Trojans, and the Town relieve:Farewel...

Turnus

did not die in so heroic a Manner; tho' our Poet seems to have had his Eye upon

Turnus's

Speech in the last Verse,

Lord Piercy sees my Fall.... Vicisti, et victum tendere palmasAusonii videre...

Earl

Piercy's

Lamentation over his Enemy is generous, beautiful, and passionate; I must only caution the Reader not to let the Simplicity of the Stile, which one may well pardon in so old a Poet, prejudice him against the Greatness of the Thought.

Then leaving Life, Earl Piercy tookThe dead Man by the Hand,And said, Earl Douglas, for thy LifeWould I had lost my Land.O Christ! my very heart doth bleedWith Sorrow for thy Sake;For sure a more renowned KnightMischance did never take.

That beautiful Line,

Taking the dead Man by the Hand

, will put the Reader in mind of

Æneas's

Behaviour towards

Lausus

, whom he himself had slain as he came to the Rescue of his aged Father.

At vero ut vultum vidit morientis, et ora,Ora modis Anchisiades, pallentia miris;Ingemuit, miserans graviter, dextramque tetendit, &c.The pious Prince beheld young Lausus dead;He grieved, he wept; then grasped his Hand, and said,Poor hapless Youth! What Praises can be paidTo worth so great ...

I shall take another Opportunity to consider the other Part of this old Song.

Footnote 1:

a little

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2:

that

return

Footnote 3:

Besides the old woman, Molière is said to have relied on the children of the Comedians, read his pieces to them, and corrected passages at which they did not show themselves to be amused.

return

Footnote 4:

Defence of Poesy.

return

Footnote 5:

The author of

Chevy Chase

was not contemporary with the dissensions of the Barons, even if the ballad of the

Hunting of the Cheviot

was a celebration of the Battle of Otterbourne, fought in 1388, some 30 miles from Newcastle. The battle of Chevy Chase, between the Percy and the Douglas, was fought in Teviotdale, and the ballad which moved Philip Sidney's heart was written in the fifteenth century. It may have referred to a Battle of Pepperden, fought near the Cheviot Hills, between the Earl of Northumberland and Earl William Douglas of Angus, in 1436. The ballad quoted by Addison is not that of which Sidney spoke, but a version of it, written after Sidney's death, and after the best plays of Shakespeare had been written.

return

Footnote 6:

that

return

Footnote 7:

that

return

Footnote 8:

received

return

Footnote 9:

by a single Combat.

return

Contents

... Scribere jussit Amor.Ovid.translation

The entire Conquest of our Passions is so difficult a Work, that they who despair of it should think of a less difficult Task, and only attempt to Regulate them. But there is a third thing which may contribute not only to the Ease, but also to the Pleasure of our Life; and that is refining our Passions to a greater Elegance, than we receive them from Nature. When the Passion is Love, this Work is performed in innocent, though rude and uncultivated Minds, by the mere Force and Dignity of the Object. There are Forms which naturally create Respect in the Beholders, and at once Inflame and Chastise the Imagination. Such an Impression as this gives an immediate Ambition to deserve, in order to please. This Cause and Effect are beautifully described by Mr.

Dryden

in the Fable of

Cymon

and

Iphigenia

. After he has represented

Cymon

so stupid, that

He Whistled as he went, for want of Thought,

he makes him fall into the following Scene, and shews its Influence upon him so excellently, that it appears as Natural as Wonderful.

It happen'd on a Summer's Holiday,That to the Greenwood-shade he took his Way;His Quarter-staff, which he cou'd ne'er forsake,Hung half before, and half behind his Back.He trudg'd along unknowing what he sought,And whistled as he went, for want of Thought.ByChance conducted, or by Thirst constrain'd,The deep recesses of the Grove he gain'd;Where in a Plain, defended by the Wood,Crept thro' the matted Grass a Crystal Flood,By which an Alabaster Fountain stood:And on the Margin of the Fount was laid,(Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid,LikeDian,and her Nymphs, when, tir'd with Sport,To rest by coolEurotasthey resort:The Dame herself the Goddess well expressed,Not more distinguished by her Purple Vest,Than by the charming Features of her Face,And even in Slumber a superior Grace:Her comely Limbs composed with decent Care,Her Body shaded with a slight Cymarr;Her Bosom to the View was only bare:1...The fanning Wind upon her Bosom blows,To meet the fanning Wind the Bosom rose;The fanning Wind and purling Streams continue her Repose.The Fool of Nature stood with stupid EyesAnd gaping Mouth, that testify'd Surprize,Fix'd on her Face, nor could remove his Sight,New as he was to Love, and Novice in Delight:Long mute he stood, and leaning on his Staff,His Wonder witness'd with an Idiot Laugh;Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering SenseFirst found his want of Words, and fear'd Offence:Doubted for what he was he should be known,By his Clown-Accent, and his Country Tone.

But

lest this fine Description should be excepted against, as the Creation of that great Master, Mr.

Dryden

, and not an Account of what has really ever happened in the World; I shall give you,

verbatim

, the Epistle of an enamoured Footman in the Country to his Mistress

2

. Their Sirnames shall not be inserted, because their Passion demands a greater Respect than is due to their Quality.

James

is Servant in a great Family, and Elizabeth waits upon the Daughter of one as numerous, some Miles off of her Lover.


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