"Sir,"I have a good fortune, partly paternal and partly acquired. My younger years I spent in business; but age coming on, and having no more children than one daughter, I resolved to be a slave no longer: and accordingly I have disposed of my effects, placed my money in the funds, bought a pretty seat in a pleasant country; am making a garden, and have set up a pack of little beagles. I live in the midst of a good many well-bred neighbours, and several well-tempered clergymen. Against a rainy day I have a little library; and against the gout in my stomach a little good claret. With all this I am the miserablest manin the world; not that I've lost the relish of any of these pleasures, but am distracted with such a multiplicity of entertaining objects, that I am lost in the variety. I am in such a hurry of idleness, that I do not know with what diversion to begin. Therefore, sir, I must beg the favour of you, when your more weighty affairs will permit, to put me in some method of doing nothing; for I find Pliny makes a great difference betwixtNihil agereandAgere nihil; and I fancy, if you would explain him, you would do a very great kindness to many in Great Britain, as well as to"Your humble Servant,"J. B."
"Sir,
"I have a good fortune, partly paternal and partly acquired. My younger years I spent in business; but age coming on, and having no more children than one daughter, I resolved to be a slave no longer: and accordingly I have disposed of my effects, placed my money in the funds, bought a pretty seat in a pleasant country; am making a garden, and have set up a pack of little beagles. I live in the midst of a good many well-bred neighbours, and several well-tempered clergymen. Against a rainy day I have a little library; and against the gout in my stomach a little good claret. With all this I am the miserablest manin the world; not that I've lost the relish of any of these pleasures, but am distracted with such a multiplicity of entertaining objects, that I am lost in the variety. I am in such a hurry of idleness, that I do not know with what diversion to begin. Therefore, sir, I must beg the favour of you, when your more weighty affairs will permit, to put me in some method of doing nothing; for I find Pliny makes a great difference betwixtNihil agereandAgere nihil; and I fancy, if you would explain him, you would do a very great kindness to many in Great Britain, as well as to
"Your humble Servant,"J. B."
"Sir,"The enclosed is written by my father in one of his pleasant humours. He bids me seal it up, and send you a word or two from myself, which he won't desire to see till he hears of it from you. Desire him before he begins his method of doing nothing, to have nothing to do; that is to say, let him marry off his daughter. I am,"Your gentle Reader,"S. B."
"Sir,
"The enclosed is written by my father in one of his pleasant humours. He bids me seal it up, and send you a word or two from myself, which he won't desire to see till he hears of it from you. Desire him before he begins his method of doing nothing, to have nothing to do; that is to say, let him marry off his daughter. I am,
"Your gentle Reader,"S. B."
FOOTNOTES:[274]Eucrates reminds us in some respects of Steele himself.[275]Perhaps Cornelius Wood. See No.144.[276]In writing of Aristæus, Steele seems to have had Addison in his mind. His friend had recently left London for Ireland.
[274]Eucrates reminds us in some respects of Steele himself.
[274]Eucrates reminds us in some respects of Steele himself.
[275]Perhaps Cornelius Wood. See No.144.
[275]Perhaps Cornelius Wood. See No.144.
[276]In writing of Aristæus, Steele seems to have had Addison in his mind. His friend had recently left London for Ireland.
[276]In writing of Aristæus, Steele seems to have had Addison in his mind. His friend had recently left London for Ireland.
No. 177.[Steele.Thursday, May 25, toSaturday, May 27, 1710.—Male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus.Hor., 2 Sat. i. 20.
Thursday, May 25, toSaturday, May 27, 1710.
—Male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus.Hor., 2 Sat. i. 20.
—Male si palpere, recalcitrat undique tutus.Hor., 2 Sat. i. 20.
Sheer Lane, May 26.
The ingenious Mr. Penkethman,[277]the comedian, has lately left here a paper or ticket, to which is affixed a small silver medal, which is to entitle the bearer to see one-and-twenty plays at his theatre for a guinea. Greenwich is the place where, it seems, he has erected his house; and his time of action is to be so contrived, that it is to fall in with going and returning with the tide: besides, that the bearer of this ticket may carry down with him a particular set of company to the play, striking off for each person so introduced one of his twenty-one times of admittance. In this warrant of his, he has made me a high compliment in a facetious distich, by way of dedication of his endeavours, and desires I would recommend them to the world. I must needs say, I have not for some time seen a properer choice than he has made of a patron: who more fit to publish his work than a novelist[278]? who to recommend it than a censor? This honour done me, has made me turn my thoughts upon the nature of dedications in general, and the abuse of that custom, as well by a long practice of my predecessors, as the continued folly of my contemporary authors.
In ancient times, it was the custom to address their works to some eminent for their merit to mankind, or particular patronage of the writers themselves, or knowledge in the matter of which they treated. Under theseregards, it was a memorable honour to both parties, and a very agreeable record of their commerce with each other. These applications were never stuffed with impertinent praises, but were the native product of their esteem, which was implicitly received, or generally known to be due to the patron of the work: but vain flourishes came into the world, with other barbarous embellishments; and the enumeration of titles, and great actions, in the patrons themselves, or their sires, are as foreign to the matter in hand as the ornaments are in a Gothic building. This is clapping together persons which have no manner of alliance, and can for that reason have no other effect than making both parties justly ridiculous. What pretence is there in Nature for me to write to a great man, and tell him, "My lord, because your Grace is a duke, your Grace's father before you was an earl, his lordship's father was a baron, and his lordship's father both a wise and a rich man, I, Isaac Bickerstaff, am obliged, and could not possibly forbear addressing to you the following treatise." Though this is the plain exposition of all I could possibly say to him with a good conscience, yet the silly custom has so universally prevailed, that my lord duke and I must necessarily be particular friends from this time forward, or else I have just room for being disobliged, and may turn my panegyric into a libel. But to carry this affair still more home, were it granted that praises in dedications were proper topics, what is it that gives a man authority to commend, or what makes it a favour to me that he does commend me? It is certain, that there is no praise valuable but from the praiseworthy. Were it otherwise, blame might be as much in the same hands. Were the good and evil of fame laid upon a level among mankind, the judge on the bench, and the criminal at the bar, would differ only in their stations; and if one's word is to passas much as the other's, their reputation would be much alike to the jury. Pliny,[279]speaking of the death of Martial, expresses himself with great gratitude to him for the honours done him in the writings of that author; but he begins it with an account of his character, which only made the applause valuable. He indeed in the same Epistle says, it is a sign we have left off doing things which deserve praise, when we think commendation impertinent. This is asserted with a just regard to the persons whose good opinion we wish for; otherwise reputation would be valued according to the number of voices a man has for it, which are not always to be insured on the more virtuous side. But however we pretend to model these nice affairs, true glory will never attend anything but truth; and there is something so peculiar in it, that the very self-same action done by different men cannot merit the same degree of applause. The Roman, who was surprised in the enemy's camp before he had accomplished his design, and thrust his bare arm into a flaming pile, telling the general, there were many as determined as himself who (against sense of danger) had conspired his death, wrought in the very enemy an admiration of his fortitude, and a dismission with applause.[280]But the condemned slave who represented him in the theatre, and consumed his arm in the same manner, with the same resolution, did not raise in the spectators a great idea of his virtue, but of him whom he imitated in an action no way differing from that of the real Scævola, but in the motive to it.
Thus true glory is inseparable from true merit, and whatever you call men, they are no more than what they are in themselves; but a romantic sense has crept into the minds of the generality, who will ever mistake words and appearances for persons and things.
The simplicity of the ancients was as conspicuous in the address of their writings, as in any other monuments they have left behind them. Cæsar and Augustus were much more high words of respect, when added to occasions fit for their characters to appear in, than any appellations which have ever been since thought of. The latter of these great men had a very pleasant way of dealing with applications of this kind. When he received pieces of poetry which he thought had worth in them, he rewarded the writer; but where he thought them empty, he generally returned the compliment made him with some verses of his own.
This latter method I have at present occasion to imitate. A female author has dedicated a piece to me,[281]wherein she would make my name (as she has others) the introduction of whatever is to follow in her book; and has spoke some panegyrical things which I know not how to return, for want of better acquaintance with the lady, and consequently being out of a capacity of giving her praise or blame. All therefore that is left for me, according to the foregoing rules, is to lay the picture of a good and evil woman before her eyes, which are but mere words if they do not concern her. Now you are to observe, the way in a dedication is to make all the rest of the world as little like the person we address to as possible, according to the following epistle:
"Madam, "But, M——"——Memorabile nullumFœminea in pœna est.——"[282]
"Madam, "But, M——
"——Memorabile nullumFœminea in pœna est.——"[282]
FOOTNOTES:[277]See No.4.[278]Writer of news.[279]"Epist." iii. 21.[280]Livy, ii. 12.[281]Mrs. Manley's "Memoirs of Europe ... by the translator of the 'New Atalantis.'" See Nos.35, 63.[282]"——Nullum memorabile nomenFœminea in pœna est."—"Æneid," ii. 583-4.
[277]See No.4.
[277]See No.4.
[278]Writer of news.
[278]Writer of news.
[279]"Epist." iii. 21.
[279]"Epist." iii. 21.
[280]Livy, ii. 12.
[280]Livy, ii. 12.
[281]Mrs. Manley's "Memoirs of Europe ... by the translator of the 'New Atalantis.'" See Nos.35, 63.
[281]Mrs. Manley's "Memoirs of Europe ... by the translator of the 'New Atalantis.'" See Nos.35, 63.
[282]"——Nullum memorabile nomenFœminea in pœna est."—"Æneid," ii. 583-4.
[282]
"——Nullum memorabile nomenFœminea in pœna est."—"Æneid," ii. 583-4.
"——Nullum memorabile nomenFœminea in pœna est."—"Æneid," ii. 583-4.
No. 178.[Steele.Saturday, May 27, toTuesday, May 30, 1710.
Saturday, May 27, toTuesday, May 30, 1710.
Sheer Lane, May 29.
When we look into the delightful history of the most ingenious Don Quixote of the Mancha, and consider the exercises and manner of life of that renowned gentleman, we cannot but admire the exquisite genius and discerning spirit of Michael Cervantes, who has not only painted his adventurer with great mastery in the conspicuous parts of his story, which relate to love and honour, but also intimated in his ordinary life, economy, and furniture, the infallible symptoms he gave of his growing frenzy, before he declared himself a knight-errant. His hall was furnished with old lances, halberds, and morions; his food, lentils; his dress, amorous. He slept moderately, rose early, and spent his time in hunting. When by watchfulness and exercise he was thus qualified for the hardships of his intended peregrinations, he had nothing more to do but to fall hard to study; and before he should apply himself to the practical part, get into the methods of making love and war by reading books of knighthood. As for raising tender passion in him, Cervantes reports[283]that he was wonderfully delighted with a smooth intricate sentence; and when they listened at his study-door, they could frequently hear him read aloud, "The reason of the unreasonableness, which against my reason is wrought, doth so weaken my reason, as with all reason I do justly complain on your beauty." Again, he would pause till he came to another charming sentence, and with the most pleasing accent imaginable beloud at a new paragraph: "The high heavens, which, with your divinity, do fortify you divinely with the stars, make you deserveress of the deserts that your greatness deserves." With these, and other such passages (says my author) the poor gentleman grew distracted, and was breaking his brains day and night to understand and unravel their sense.
As much as the case of this distempered knight is received by all the readers of his history as the most incurable and ridiculous of all phrensies, it is very certain we have crowds among us far gone in as visible a madness as his, though they are not observed to be in that condition. As great and useful discoveries are sometimes made by accidental and small beginnings, I came to the knowledge of the most epidemic ill of this sort, by falling into a coffee-house where I saw my friend the upholsterer,[284]whose crack[285]towards politics I have heretofore mentioned. This touch in the brain of the British subject is as certainly owing to the reading newspapers, as that of the Spanish worthy above mentioned to the reading works of chivalry. My contemporaries the novelists[286]have, for the better spinning out paragraphs, and working down to the end of their columns, a most happy art in saying and unsaying, giving hints of intelligence, and interpretations of indifferent actions, to the great disturbance of the brains of ordinary readers. This way of going on in the words, and making no progress in the sense, is more particularly the excellence of my most ingenious and renowned fellow-labourer, thePostman[287]; and it is to this talent in himthat I impute the loss of my upholsterer's intellects. That unfortunate tradesman has for years past been the chief orator in ragged assemblies, and the reader in alley coffee-houses. He was yesterday surrounded by an audience of that sort, among whom I sat unobserved through the favour of a cloud of tobacco, and saw him with thePostmanin his hand, and all the other papers safe under his left elbow. He was intermixing remarks, and reading the Paris article of May 30, which says that "it is given out that an express arrived this day, with advice, that the armies were so near in the plain of Lens, that they cannonaded each other." ("Ay, ay, here we shall have sport.") "And that it was highly probable the next express would bring us an account of an engagement." ("They are welcome as soon as they please.") "Though some others say, that the same will be put off till the 2nd or 3rd of June, because the Marshal Villars expects some further reinforcements from Germany, and other parts, before that time." ("What-a-pox does he put it off for? Does he think our horse is not marching up at the same time? But let us see what he says further.") "They hope that Monsieur Albergotti,[288]being encouraged by the presence of so great an army, will make an extraordinary defence." ("Why then I find, Albergotti is one of those that love to have a great many on their side. Nay, I'll say that for this paper, he makes the most natural inferences of any of them all.") "The Elector of Bavaria being uneasy to be without any command, has desired leave to come to Court to communicate a certain project to his Majesty. Whatever it be, it is said that prince is suddenly expected, and then we shall have a more certain account of his project, if this report has any foundation." ("Nay, this paper never imposes upon us, he goes uponsure grounds; for he won't be positive the Elector has a project, or that he will come, or if he does come at all; for he doubts, you see, whether the report has any foundation.")
What makes this the more lamentable is, that this way of writing falls in with the imagination of the cooler and duller part of her Majesty's subjects. The being kept up with one line contradicting another, and the whole, after many sentences of conjecture, vanishing in a doubt whether there is anything at all in what the person has been reading, puts an ordinary head into a vertigo, which his natural dulness would have secured him from. Next to the labours of thePostman, the upholsterer took from under his elbow honest Ichabod Dawks'Letter,[289]and there, among other speculations, the historian takes upon him to say that "it is discoursed that there will be a battle in Flanders before the armies separate, and many will have it to be to-morrow, the great battle of Ramillies being fought on a Whit Sunday." A gentleman who was a wag in this company laughed at the expression, and said, "By Mr. Dawks' favour, I warrant ye, if we meet them on Whit Sunday, or Monday, we shall not stand upon the day[290]with them, whether it be before or after the holidays." An admirer of this gentleman stood up, and told a neighbour at a distant table the conceit, at which indeed we were all very merry. These reflections in the writers of the transactions of the times, seize the noddles of such as were not born to have thoughts of their own, and consequently lay a weight upon everything which they read in print. ButMr. Dawks concluded his paper with a courteous sentence, which was very well taken and applauded by the whole company. "We wish," says he, "all our customers a merry Whitsuntide, and many of them." Honest Ichabod is as extraordinary a man as any of our fraternity, and as particular. His style is a dialect between the familiarity of talking and writing, and his letter such as you cannot distinguish whether print or manuscript, which gives us a refreshment[291]of the idea from what has been told us from the press by others. This wishing a good tide had its effect upon us, and he was commended for his salutation, as showing as well the capacity of a bellman as an historian. My distempered old acquaintance read in the next place the account of the affairs abroad in theCourant;[292]but the matter was told so distinctly, that these wanderers thought there was no news in it; this paper differing from the rest as a history from a romance. The tautology, the contradictions, the doubts, and wants of confirmations, are what keep up imaginary entertainments in empty heads, and produce neglect of their own affairs, poverty, and bankruptcy, in many of the shop-statesmen; but turn the imaginations of those of a little higher orb into deliriums of dissatisfaction, which is seen in a continual fret upon all that touches their brains, but more particularly upon any advantage obtained by their country, where they are considered as lunatics, and therefore tolerated in their ravings.
What I am now warning the people of is, that the newspapers of this island are as pernicious to weak heads in England as ever books of chivalry to Spain; and therefore shall do all that in me lies, with the utmost care and vigilance imaginable, to prevent these growing evils. A flaming instance of this malady appeared in my oldacquaintance at this time, who, after he had done reading all his papers, ended with a thoughtful air, "If we should have a peace, we should then know for certain whether it was the King of Sweden that lately came to Dunkirk." I whispered him, and desired him to step aside a little with me. When I had opportunity, I decoyed him into a coach, in order for his more easy conveyance to Moorfields. The man went very quietly with me; and by that time he had brought the Swede from the defeat by the Czar to the Boristhenes, we were passing by Will's Coffeehouse, where the man of the house beckoned to us. We made a full stop, and could hear from above a very loud voice swearing, with some expressions towards treason, that the subject in France was as free as in England. His distemper would not let him reflect, that his own discourse was an argument of the contrary. They told him, one would speak with him below. He came immediately to our coach-side. I whispered him, that I had an order to carry him to the Bastile. He immediately obeyed with great resignation: for to this sort of lunatic, whose brain is touched for the French, the name of a gaol in that kingdom has a more agreeable sound than that of a paternal seat in this their own country. It happened a little unluckily bringing these lunatics together, for they immediately fell into a debate concerning the greatness of their respective monarchs; one for the King of Sweden, the other for the Grand Monarch of France. This gentleman from Will's is now next door to the upholsterer, safe in his apartment in my Bedlam, with proper medicaments, and theMercure Galant[293]to soothe his imagination that he is actually in France. If therefore he should escape to Covent Garden again, all persons are desired to lay hold of him, and deliver him to Mr. Morphew, myoverseer. At the same time, I desire all true subjects to forbear discourse with him, any otherwise than when he begins to fight a battle for France, to say, "Sir, I hope to see you in England."
FOOTNOTES:[283]"Don Quixote," Part I. chap. i.[284]See Nos.155,160.[285]In theSpectator, No. 251, Addison applies the word to a crazy person: "A crack and a projector."[286]Writers of newspapers.[287]ThePostmanwas edited by a French Protestant named Fontive, whom Dunton describes as "the glory and mirror of news-writers; a very grave, learned, orthodox man."[288]Albergotti was then holding Douay for Lewis XIV.[289]See No.18. The news-letter was printed to imitate handwriting.[290]Cf. "Macbeth," act iii. sc. 4:"Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once!"[291]Aréchauffé.[292]See No.18.[293]See No. 67.
[283]"Don Quixote," Part I. chap. i.
[283]"Don Quixote," Part I. chap. i.
[284]See Nos.155,160.
[284]See Nos.155,160.
[285]In theSpectator, No. 251, Addison applies the word to a crazy person: "A crack and a projector."
[285]In theSpectator, No. 251, Addison applies the word to a crazy person: "A crack and a projector."
[286]Writers of newspapers.
[286]Writers of newspapers.
[287]ThePostmanwas edited by a French Protestant named Fontive, whom Dunton describes as "the glory and mirror of news-writers; a very grave, learned, orthodox man."
[287]ThePostmanwas edited by a French Protestant named Fontive, whom Dunton describes as "the glory and mirror of news-writers; a very grave, learned, orthodox man."
[288]Albergotti was then holding Douay for Lewis XIV.
[288]Albergotti was then holding Douay for Lewis XIV.
[289]See No.18. The news-letter was printed to imitate handwriting.
[289]See No.18. The news-letter was printed to imitate handwriting.
[290]Cf. "Macbeth," act iii. sc. 4:"Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once!"
[290]Cf. "Macbeth," act iii. sc. 4:
"Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once!"
"Stand not upon the order of your going,But go at once!"
[291]Aréchauffé.
[291]Aréchauffé.
[292]See No.18.
[292]See No.18.
[293]See No. 67.
[293]See No. 67.
No. 179.[Steele.Tuesday, May 30, toThursday, June 1, 1710.——O! quis me gelidis sub montibus HæmiSistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra?Virg., Georg. ii. 488.[294]
Tuesday, May 30, toThursday, June 1, 1710.
——O! quis me gelidis sub montibus HæmiSistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra?Virg., Georg. ii. 488.[294]
——O! quis me gelidis sub montibus HæmiSistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra?Virg., Georg. ii. 488.[294]
From my own Apartment, May 31.
In this parched season, next to the pleasure of going into the country, is that of hearing from it, and partaking the joys of it in description, as in the following letter:
"Sir,"I believe you will forgive me, though I write to you a very long epistle, since it relates to the satisfaction of a country life, which I know you would lead, if you could. In the first place I must confess to you, that I am one of the most luxurious men living; and as I am such, I take care to make my pleasures lasting, by following none but such as are innocent and refined, as well as, in some measure, improving. You have in your labours been so much concerned to represent the actions and passions of mankind, that the whole vegetable world has almost escaped your observation: but sure there are gratifications to be drawn from thence, which deserve to be recommended. For your better information, I wish you could visit your old friend in Cornwall: you would beleased to see the many alterations I have made about my house, and how much I have improved my estate without raising the rents of it."As the winter engrosses with us near a double portion of the year (the three delightful vicissitudes being crowded almost within the space of six months), there is nothing upon which I have bestowed so much study and expense, as in contriving means to soften the severity of it, and, if possible, to establish twelve cheerful months about my habitation. In order to this, the charges I have been at in building and furnishing a greenhouse will, perhaps, be thought somewhat extravagant by a great many gentlemen whose revenues exceed mine. But when I consider, that all men of any life and spirit have their inclinations to gratify, and when I compute the sums laid out by the generality of the men of pleasure (in the number of which I always rank myself) in riotous eating and drinking, in equipage and apparel, upon wenching, gaming, racing and hunting; I find, upon the balance, that the indulging of my humour comes at a reasonable rate."Since I communicate to you all incidents serious and trifling, even to the death of a butterfly, that fall out within the compass of my little empire, you will not, I hope, be ill pleased with the draught I now send you of my little winter paradise, and with an account of my way of amusing myself and others in it."The younger Pliny, you know, writes a long letter to his friend Gallus,[295]in which he gives him a very particular plan of the situation, the conveniences, and the agreeableness of his villa. In my last, you may remember, I promised you something of this kind. Had Pliny lived in a northern climate, I doubt not but we should have found a very complete orangery amongst his Epistles; and I, probably, should have copied his model, instead of building after my own fancy, and you had been referred to him for the history of my late exploits in architecture: by which means my performances would have made a better figure, at least in writing, than they are like to make at present."The area of my greenhouse is a hundred paces long, fifty broad, and the roof thirty feet high. The wall toward the north is of solid stone. On the south side, and at both the ends, the stonework rises but three feet from the ground, excepting the pilasters, placed at convenient distances to strengthen and beautify the building. The intermediate spaces are filled up with large sashes of the strongest and most transparent glass. The middle sash (which is wider than any of the others) serves for the entrance, to which you mount by six easy steps, and descend on the inside by as many. This opens and shuts with greater ease, keeps the wind out better, and is at the same time more uniform than folding-doors."In the middle of the roof there runs a ceiling thirty feet broad from one end to the other. This is enlivened by a masterly pencil, with all the variety of rural scenes and prospects, which he has peopled with the whole tribe of sylvan deities. Their characters and their stories are so well expressed, that the whole seems a collection of all the most beautiful fables of the ancient poets translated into colours. The remaining spaces of the roof, ten feet on each side of the ceiling, are of the clearest glass, to let in the sky and clouds from above. The building points full east and west, so that I enjoy the sun while he is above the horizon. His rays are improved through the glass, and I receive through it what is desirable in a winter-sky, without the coarse alloy of the season, which is a kind of sifting or straining the weather. My greens andlowers are as sensible as I am of this benefit: they flourish and look cheerful as in the spring, while their fellow creatures abroad are starved to death. I must add, that a moderate expense of fire, over and above the contributions I receive from the sun, serves to keep this large room in a due temperature; it being sheltered from the cold winds by a hill on the north, and a wood on the east."The shell, you see, is both agreeable and convenient; and now you shall judge, whether I have laid out the floor to advantage. There goes through the whole length of it a spacious walk of the finest gravel, made to bind and unite so firmly, that it seems one continued stone; with this advantage, that it is easier to the foot, and better for walking, than if it were what it seems to be. At each end of the walk, on the one and on the other side of it, lies a square plot of grass of the finest turf and brightest verdure. What ground remains on both sides, between these little smooth fields of green, is flagged with large quarries of white marble, where the blue veins trace out such a variety of irregular windings through the clear surface, that these bright plains seem full of rivulets and streaming meanders. This to my eye, that delights in simplicity, is inexpressibly more beautiful than the chequered floors which are so generally admired by others. Upon the right and upon the left, along the gravel walk, I have ranged interchangeably the bay, the myrtle, the orange and the lemon trees, intermixed with painted hollies, silver firs, and pyramids of yew; all so disposed, that every tree receives an additional beauty from its situation; besides the harmony that rises from the disposition of the whole, no shade cuts too strongly, or breaks in harshly upon the other; but the eye is cheered with a mild rather than gorgeous diversity of greens."The borders of the four grass plots are garnished with pots of flowers: those delicacies of Nature create two senses at once, and leave such delightful and gentle impressions upon the brain, that I cannot help thinking them of equal force with the softest airs of music, toward the smoothing of our tempers. In the centre of every plot is a statue. The figures I have made choice of are a Venus, an Adonis, a Diana, and an Apollo; such excellent copies, as to raise the same delight as we should draw from the sight of the ancient originals."The north wall would have been but a tiresome waste to the eye, if I had not diversified it with the most lively ornaments, suitable to the place. To this intent, I have been at the expense to lead over arches from a neighbouring hill a plentiful store of spring water, which a beautiful Naiad, placed as high as is possible in the centre of the wall, pours out from an urn. This, by a fall of above twenty foot, makes a most delightful cascade into a basin, that opens wide within the marble floor on that side. At a reasonable distance, on either hand of the cascade, the wall is hollowed into two spreading scallops, each of which receives a couch of green velvet, and forms at the same time a canopy over them. Next to them come two large aviaries, which are likewise let into the stone. These are succeeded by two grottoes, set off with all the pleasing rudeness of shells and moss, and cragged stones, imitating in miniature rocks and precipices, the most dreadful and gigantic works of Nature. After the grottoes, you have two niches, the one inhabited by Ceres, with her sickle and sheaf of wheat; and the other by Pomona, who, with a countenance full of good cheer, pours a bounteous autumn of fruits out of her horn. Last of all come two colonies of bees, whose stations lying east and west, the one is saluted by the rising, the otherby the setting sun. These, all of them being placed at proportioned intervals, furnish out the whole length of the wall; and the spaces that lie between are painted in fresco, by the same hand that has enriched my ceiling."Now, sir, you see my whole contrivance to elude the rigour of the year, to bring a northern climate nearer the sun, and to exempt myself from the common fate of my countrymen. I must detain you a little longer, to tell you, that I never enter this delicious retirement, but my spirits are revived, and a sweet complacency diffuses itself over my whole mind. And how can it be otherwise, with a conscience void of offence, where the music of falling waters, the symphony of birds, the gentle humming of bees, the breath of flowers, the fine imagery of painting and sculpture: in a word, the beauties and the charms of nature and of art court all my faculties, refresh the fibres of the brain and smooth every avenue of thought. What pleasing meditations, what agreeable wanderings of the mind, and what delicious slumbers, have I enjoyed here! And when I turn up some masterly writer to my imagination, methinks here his beauties appear in the most advantageous light, and the rays of his genius shoot upon me with greater force and brightness than ordinary. This place likewise keeps the whole family in good humour, in a season wherein gloominess of temper prevails universally in this island. My wife does often touch her lute in one of the grottoes, and my daughter sings to it, while the ladies with you, amidst all the diversions of the town, and in the most affluent fortunes, are fretting and repining beneath a lowering sky for they know not what. In this greenhouse we often dine, we drink tea, we dance country dances; and what is the chief pleasure of all, we entertain our neighbours in it, and by thismeans contribute very much to mend the climate five or six miles about us. I am,"Your most humble Servant,"T. S."[296]
"Sir,
"I believe you will forgive me, though I write to you a very long epistle, since it relates to the satisfaction of a country life, which I know you would lead, if you could. In the first place I must confess to you, that I am one of the most luxurious men living; and as I am such, I take care to make my pleasures lasting, by following none but such as are innocent and refined, as well as, in some measure, improving. You have in your labours been so much concerned to represent the actions and passions of mankind, that the whole vegetable world has almost escaped your observation: but sure there are gratifications to be drawn from thence, which deserve to be recommended. For your better information, I wish you could visit your old friend in Cornwall: you would beleased to see the many alterations I have made about my house, and how much I have improved my estate without raising the rents of it.
"As the winter engrosses with us near a double portion of the year (the three delightful vicissitudes being crowded almost within the space of six months), there is nothing upon which I have bestowed so much study and expense, as in contriving means to soften the severity of it, and, if possible, to establish twelve cheerful months about my habitation. In order to this, the charges I have been at in building and furnishing a greenhouse will, perhaps, be thought somewhat extravagant by a great many gentlemen whose revenues exceed mine. But when I consider, that all men of any life and spirit have their inclinations to gratify, and when I compute the sums laid out by the generality of the men of pleasure (in the number of which I always rank myself) in riotous eating and drinking, in equipage and apparel, upon wenching, gaming, racing and hunting; I find, upon the balance, that the indulging of my humour comes at a reasonable rate.
"Since I communicate to you all incidents serious and trifling, even to the death of a butterfly, that fall out within the compass of my little empire, you will not, I hope, be ill pleased with the draught I now send you of my little winter paradise, and with an account of my way of amusing myself and others in it.
"The younger Pliny, you know, writes a long letter to his friend Gallus,[295]in which he gives him a very particular plan of the situation, the conveniences, and the agreeableness of his villa. In my last, you may remember, I promised you something of this kind. Had Pliny lived in a northern climate, I doubt not but we should have found a very complete orangery amongst his Epistles; and I, probably, should have copied his model, instead of building after my own fancy, and you had been referred to him for the history of my late exploits in architecture: by which means my performances would have made a better figure, at least in writing, than they are like to make at present.
"The area of my greenhouse is a hundred paces long, fifty broad, and the roof thirty feet high. The wall toward the north is of solid stone. On the south side, and at both the ends, the stonework rises but three feet from the ground, excepting the pilasters, placed at convenient distances to strengthen and beautify the building. The intermediate spaces are filled up with large sashes of the strongest and most transparent glass. The middle sash (which is wider than any of the others) serves for the entrance, to which you mount by six easy steps, and descend on the inside by as many. This opens and shuts with greater ease, keeps the wind out better, and is at the same time more uniform than folding-doors.
"In the middle of the roof there runs a ceiling thirty feet broad from one end to the other. This is enlivened by a masterly pencil, with all the variety of rural scenes and prospects, which he has peopled with the whole tribe of sylvan deities. Their characters and their stories are so well expressed, that the whole seems a collection of all the most beautiful fables of the ancient poets translated into colours. The remaining spaces of the roof, ten feet on each side of the ceiling, are of the clearest glass, to let in the sky and clouds from above. The building points full east and west, so that I enjoy the sun while he is above the horizon. His rays are improved through the glass, and I receive through it what is desirable in a winter-sky, without the coarse alloy of the season, which is a kind of sifting or straining the weather. My greens andlowers are as sensible as I am of this benefit: they flourish and look cheerful as in the spring, while their fellow creatures abroad are starved to death. I must add, that a moderate expense of fire, over and above the contributions I receive from the sun, serves to keep this large room in a due temperature; it being sheltered from the cold winds by a hill on the north, and a wood on the east.
"The shell, you see, is both agreeable and convenient; and now you shall judge, whether I have laid out the floor to advantage. There goes through the whole length of it a spacious walk of the finest gravel, made to bind and unite so firmly, that it seems one continued stone; with this advantage, that it is easier to the foot, and better for walking, than if it were what it seems to be. At each end of the walk, on the one and on the other side of it, lies a square plot of grass of the finest turf and brightest verdure. What ground remains on both sides, between these little smooth fields of green, is flagged with large quarries of white marble, where the blue veins trace out such a variety of irregular windings through the clear surface, that these bright plains seem full of rivulets and streaming meanders. This to my eye, that delights in simplicity, is inexpressibly more beautiful than the chequered floors which are so generally admired by others. Upon the right and upon the left, along the gravel walk, I have ranged interchangeably the bay, the myrtle, the orange and the lemon trees, intermixed with painted hollies, silver firs, and pyramids of yew; all so disposed, that every tree receives an additional beauty from its situation; besides the harmony that rises from the disposition of the whole, no shade cuts too strongly, or breaks in harshly upon the other; but the eye is cheered with a mild rather than gorgeous diversity of greens.
"The borders of the four grass plots are garnished with pots of flowers: those delicacies of Nature create two senses at once, and leave such delightful and gentle impressions upon the brain, that I cannot help thinking them of equal force with the softest airs of music, toward the smoothing of our tempers. In the centre of every plot is a statue. The figures I have made choice of are a Venus, an Adonis, a Diana, and an Apollo; such excellent copies, as to raise the same delight as we should draw from the sight of the ancient originals.
"The north wall would have been but a tiresome waste to the eye, if I had not diversified it with the most lively ornaments, suitable to the place. To this intent, I have been at the expense to lead over arches from a neighbouring hill a plentiful store of spring water, which a beautiful Naiad, placed as high as is possible in the centre of the wall, pours out from an urn. This, by a fall of above twenty foot, makes a most delightful cascade into a basin, that opens wide within the marble floor on that side. At a reasonable distance, on either hand of the cascade, the wall is hollowed into two spreading scallops, each of which receives a couch of green velvet, and forms at the same time a canopy over them. Next to them come two large aviaries, which are likewise let into the stone. These are succeeded by two grottoes, set off with all the pleasing rudeness of shells and moss, and cragged stones, imitating in miniature rocks and precipices, the most dreadful and gigantic works of Nature. After the grottoes, you have two niches, the one inhabited by Ceres, with her sickle and sheaf of wheat; and the other by Pomona, who, with a countenance full of good cheer, pours a bounteous autumn of fruits out of her horn. Last of all come two colonies of bees, whose stations lying east and west, the one is saluted by the rising, the otherby the setting sun. These, all of them being placed at proportioned intervals, furnish out the whole length of the wall; and the spaces that lie between are painted in fresco, by the same hand that has enriched my ceiling.
"Now, sir, you see my whole contrivance to elude the rigour of the year, to bring a northern climate nearer the sun, and to exempt myself from the common fate of my countrymen. I must detain you a little longer, to tell you, that I never enter this delicious retirement, but my spirits are revived, and a sweet complacency diffuses itself over my whole mind. And how can it be otherwise, with a conscience void of offence, where the music of falling waters, the symphony of birds, the gentle humming of bees, the breath of flowers, the fine imagery of painting and sculpture: in a word, the beauties and the charms of nature and of art court all my faculties, refresh the fibres of the brain and smooth every avenue of thought. What pleasing meditations, what agreeable wanderings of the mind, and what delicious slumbers, have I enjoyed here! And when I turn up some masterly writer to my imagination, methinks here his beauties appear in the most advantageous light, and the rays of his genius shoot upon me with greater force and brightness than ordinary. This place likewise keeps the whole family in good humour, in a season wherein gloominess of temper prevails universally in this island. My wife does often touch her lute in one of the grottoes, and my daughter sings to it, while the ladies with you, amidst all the diversions of the town, and in the most affluent fortunes, are fretting and repining beneath a lowering sky for they know not what. In this greenhouse we often dine, we drink tea, we dance country dances; and what is the chief pleasure of all, we entertain our neighbours in it, and by thismeans contribute very much to mend the climate five or six miles about us. I am,
"Your most humble Servant,"T. S."[296]
FOOTNOTES:[294]The correct reading is, "O, qui me gellidis in vallibus," &c.[295]"Epist." ii. 17.[296]Thomas Smith, who voted against Steele's expulsion, was member for the borough of Eye, and may have been the person who wrote this letter, to which the initials of his name are subscribed. In the preface to theExaminer, the first number of which was published Aug. 3, 1710, there is the following passage: "All descriptions of stage-players and statesmen, the erecting of greenhouses, the forming of constellations, the beaus' red heels, and the furbelows of the ladies, shall remain entire to the use and benefit of their first proprietor."The description of stage-players and statesmen, here mentioned, is an allusion to Downes' letter. See No.193.
[294]The correct reading is, "O, qui me gellidis in vallibus," &c.
[294]The correct reading is, "O, qui me gellidis in vallibus," &c.
[295]"Epist." ii. 17.
[295]"Epist." ii. 17.
[296]Thomas Smith, who voted against Steele's expulsion, was member for the borough of Eye, and may have been the person who wrote this letter, to which the initials of his name are subscribed. In the preface to theExaminer, the first number of which was published Aug. 3, 1710, there is the following passage: "All descriptions of stage-players and statesmen, the erecting of greenhouses, the forming of constellations, the beaus' red heels, and the furbelows of the ladies, shall remain entire to the use and benefit of their first proprietor."The description of stage-players and statesmen, here mentioned, is an allusion to Downes' letter. See No.193.
[296]Thomas Smith, who voted against Steele's expulsion, was member for the borough of Eye, and may have been the person who wrote this letter, to which the initials of his name are subscribed. In the preface to theExaminer, the first number of which was published Aug. 3, 1710, there is the following passage: "All descriptions of stage-players and statesmen, the erecting of greenhouses, the forming of constellations, the beaus' red heels, and the furbelows of the ladies, shall remain entire to the use and benefit of their first proprietor."
The description of stage-players and statesmen, here mentioned, is an allusion to Downes' letter. See No.193.
No. 180.[Steele.Thursday, June 1, toSaturday, June 3, 1710.Stultitiam patiuntur opes.—Hor., 1 Ep. xviii. 29.
Thursday, June 1, toSaturday, June 3, 1710.
Stultitiam patiuntur opes.—Hor., 1 Ep. xviii. 29.
Stultitiam patiuntur opes.—Hor., 1 Ep. xviii. 29.
From my own Apartment, June 2.
I have received a letter which accuses me of partiality in the administration of the Censorship, and says, that I have been very free with the lower part of mankind, but extremely cautious in representations of matters which concern men of condition. This correspondent takes upon him also to say, the upholsterer was not undone by turning politician, but became bankrupt by trusting his goods to persons of quality; and demands of me, that I should do justice upon such as brought poverty and distress upon the world below them, while they themselves were sunk in pleasures and luxury, supported at the expense of those very persons whom they treated with a negligence, as ifthey did not know whether they dealt with them or not. This is a very heavy accusation, both of me and such as the man aggrieved accuses me of tolerating. For this reason, I resolved to take this matter into consideration, and upon very little meditation could call to my memory many instances which made this complaint far from being groundless. The root of this evil does not always proceed from injustice in the men of figure, but often from a false grandeur which they take upon them in being unacquainted with their own business, not considering how mean a part they act when their names and characters are subjected to the little arts of their servants and dependants. The overseers of the poor are a people who have no great reputation for the discharge of their trust, but are much less scandalous than the overseers of the rich. Ask a young fellow of a great estate, who was that odd fellow spoke to him in a public place? He answers, "One that does my business." It is, with many, a natural consequence of being a man of fortune, that they are not to understand the disposal of it; and they long to come to their estates, only to put themselves under new guardianship. Nay, I have known a young fellow who was regularly bred an attorney, and was a very expert one till he had an estate fallen to him. The moment that happened, he who could before prove the next land he cast his eye upon his own, and was so sharp, that a man at first sight would give him a small sum for a general receipt, whether he owed him anything or not: such a one, I say, have I seen, upon coming to an estate, forget all his diffidence of mankind, and become the most manageable thing breathing. He immediately wanted a stirring man to take upon him his affairs, to receive and pay, and do everything which he himself was now too fine a gentleman to understand. It is pleasant to consider, that he who would have got an estate had he not come toone, will certainly starve because one fell to him: but such contradictions are we to ourselves, and any change of life is insupportable to some natures.
It is a mistaken sense of superiority, to believe a figure or equipage gives men precedence to their neighbours. Nothing can create respect from mankind, but laying obligations upon them; and it may very reasonably be concluded, that if it were put into a due balance, according to the true state of the account, many who believe themselves in possession of a large share of dignity in the world, must give place to their inferiors. The greatest of all distinctions in civil life is that of debtor and creditor, and there needs no great progress in logic to know which, in that case, is the advantageous side. He who can say to another, "Pray, master," or "Pray, my lord, give me my own," can as justly tell him, "It is a fantastical distinction you take upon you, to pretend to pass upon the world for my master or lord, when at the same time that I wear your livery, you owe me wages; or, while I wait at your door, you are ashamed to see me till you have paid my bill."
The good old way among the gentry of England to maintain their pre-eminence over the lower rank, was by their bounty, munificence, and hospitality; and it is a very unhappy change, if at present, by themselves or their agents, the luxury of the gentry is supported by the credit of the trader. This is what my correspondent pretends to prove out of his own books, and those of his whole neighbourhood. He has the confidence to say, that there is a mug-house near Long Acre, where you may every evening hear an exact account of distresses of this kind. One complains, that such a lady's finery is the occasion that his own wife and daughter appear so long in the same gown: another, that all the furniture of her visiting apartment are no more hers, than the scenery of aplay are the proper goods of the actress. Nay, at the lower end of the same table, you may hear a butcher and poulterer say, that at their proper charge all that family has been maintained since they last came to town.
The free manner in which people of fashion are discoursed on at such meetings, is but a just reproach for their failures in this kind; but the melancholy relations of the great necessities tradesmen are driven to, who support their credit in spite of the faithless promises which are made them, and the abatement which they suffer when paid, by the extortion of upper servants, is what would stop the most thoughtless man in the career of his pleasures, if rightly represented to him.
If this matter be not very speedily amended, I shall think fit to print exact lists of all persons who are not at their own disposal, though above the age of twenty-one; and as the trader is made bankrupt for absence from his abode, so shall the gentleman for being at home, if, when Mr. Morphew calls, he cannot give him an exact account of what passes in his own family. After this fair warning, no one ought to think himself hardly dealt with, if I take upon me to pronounce him no longer master of his estate, wife, or family, than he continues to improve, cherish, and maintain them upon the basis of his own property, without incursions upon his neighbour in any of these particulars.
According to that excellent philosopher Epictetus, we are all but acting parts in a play; and it is not a distinction in itself to be high or low, but to become the parts we are to perform. I am by my office prompter on this occasion, and shall give those who are a little out in their parts such soft hints as may help them to proceed, without letting it be known to the audience they were out: but if they run quite out of character, they must be called off the stage, and receive parts more suitable to their genius.Servile complaisance shall degrade a man from his honour and quality, and haughtiness be yet more debased. Fortune shall no longer appropriate distinctions, but Nature direct us in the disposition both of respect and discountenance. As there are tempers made for command, and others for obedience; so there are men born for acquiring possessions, and others incapable of being other than mere lodgers in the houses of their ancestors, and have it not in their very composition to be proprietors of anything. These men are moved only by the mere effects of impulse: their goodwill and disesteem are to be regarded equally, for neither is the effect of their judgment. This loose temper is that which makes a man, what Sallust so well remarks to happen frequently in the same person, to be covetous of what is another's, and profuse of what is his own.[297]This sort of men is usually amiable to ordinary eyes; but in the sight of reason, nothing is laudable but what is guided by reason. The covetous prodigal is of all others the worst man in society: if he would but take time to look into himself, he would find his soul all over gashed with broken vows and promises, and his retrospect on his actions would not consist of reflections upon those good resolutions after mature thought, which are the true life of a reasonable creature, but the nauseous memory of imperfect pleasures, idle dreams, and occasional amusements. To follow such dissatisfying pursuits, is it possible to suffer the ignominy of being unjust? I remember in Tully's Epistle, in the recommendation of a man to an affair which had no manner of relation to money, it is said, "You may trust him, for he is a frugal man." It is certain, he who has not a regard to strict justice in the commerce of life, can be capable of no good action in any other kind; but he who lives below his income, lays up every moment of life armour against abase world, that will cover all his frailties while he is so fortified, and exaggerate them when he is naked and defenceless.
ADVERTISEMENT.
A stage-coach sets out exactly at six from Nando's Coffee-house[298]to Mr. Tiptoe's dancing school, and returns at eleven every evening, for 16d.
N.B. Dancing-shoes not exceeding four inches height in the heel, and periwigs not exceeding three feet in length, are carried in the coach-box gratis.