minent among men? There is not any circum-action. I have in the next place shown from stance in Cæsar's character which gives me a many considerations, first, that fame is a thing greater idea of him, than a saying which Cicero difficult to be obtained, and easily to be lost; tells us he frequently made use of in private con- secondly, that it brings the ambitious man very versation, "That he was satisfied with his share little happiness, but subjects him to much unof life and fame." "Se satis vel ad naturam, vel ad easiness and dissatisfaction. I shall in the last gloriam vixisse." Many indeed have given over place show, that it hinders us from obtaining an their pursuits after fame, but that has proceeded end which we have abilities to acquire, and which either from the disappointments they have met in is accompanied by fullness of satisfaction. I need it, or from their experience of the little pleasure not tell my reader, that I mean by this end, that which attends it, or from the better informations happiness which is reserved for us in another or natural coldness of old age; but seldom from a world, which every one has abilities to procure, full satisfaction and acquiescence in their present and which will bring along with it "fullness of joy, enjoyments of it. and pleasures for evermore."

No. 257.] SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1711 secrets are concealed.

320

Let the ambitious man, therefore, turn all his virtues are only seen in affliction, and some in | prosperity; some in a private, and others in a desire of fame this way; and, that he may propose public capacity. But the great Sovereign of the to himself a fame worthy of his ambition, let him world beholds every perfection in its obscurity, consider, that if he employs his abilities to the and not only sees what we do, but what we would best advantage, the time will come when the do. He views our behavior in every concurrence Supreme Governor of the world, the great Judge of affairs, and sees us engaged in all the possi- of mankind, who sees every degree of perfection bilities of action. He discovers the martyr and in others, and possible perfection in himself, shall confessor without the trial of flames and tortures, proclaim his worth before men and angels, and and will hereafter entitle many to the reward of pronounce to him in the presence of the whole actions which they had never the opportunity of creation that best and most significant of applause, performing. Another reason why men cannot "Well done, thou good and faithful servant, enter form a right judgment of us is, because the same thou into thy Master's joy."-C. actions may be aimed at different ends, and arise from quite contrary principles. Actions are of so mixed a nature, and so full of circumstances, that as men pry into them more or less, or observe No. 258.] WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1711. some parts more than others, they take different hints, and put contrary interpretations on them; so that the same actions may represent a man as hypocritical and designing to one, which make him appear a saint or hero to another. He, there fore, who looks upon the soul through its outward actions, often sees it through a deceitful medium, which is apt to discolor and pervert the object; so that, on this account also, he is the only proper judge of our perfections, who does not guess at the sincerity of our intentions from the goodness of our actions but weighs the goodness of our actions by the sincerity of our intentions.

But further, it is impossible for outward actions
to represent the perfections of the soul, because
they can never show the strength of those prin-
ciples from whence they proceed. They are not
adequate expressions of our virtues, and can only
show us what habits are in the soul, without dis-
covering the degree and perfection of such habits.
They are at best but weak resemblances of our in-
tentions, faint and imperfect, that may acquaint
us with the general design, but can never express
the beauty and life of the original. But the great
Judge of all the earth knows every different state
and degree of human improvement, from those
weak stirrings and tendencies of the will which
have not yet formed themselves into regular pur-
poses and designs, to the last entire finishing and
consummation of a good habit. He beholds the
first imperfect rudiments of a virtue in the soul,
and keeps a watchful eye over it in all its pro-
gress, until it has received every grace it is ca-
pable of, and appears in its full beauty and per
fection. Thus we see, that none but the Supreme
Being can esteem us according to our proper
merits, since all others must judge of us from our
outward actions; which can never give them a just
estimate of us, since there are many perfections
of a man which are not capable of appearing in
actions; many which. allowing no natural inca-
pacity of showing themselves, want an opportuni-
ty of doing it; should they all meet with an oppor-
tunity of appearing by actions, yet those actions
maybe misinterpreted, and applied to wrong prin-
ciples: or, though they plainly discovered the
principles from whence they proceeded, they
could never show the degree, strength, and per-
fection of those principles.

And as the Supreme Being is the only proper
judge of our perfections, so he is the only fit re-
warder of them. This is a consideration that
comes home to our interest, as the other adapts
itself to our ambition. And what could the most
aspiring, or the most selfish man desire more, were
he to form the notion of a Being to whom he
would recommend himself, than such a knowledge
as can discover the least appearance of perfection
in him, and such a goodness as will proportion a
reward to it?

Divide et impera.

Divide and rule.

PLEASURE and recreation of one kind or other are absolutely necessary to relieve our minds and bodies from too constant attention and labor: where therefore public diversions are tolerated, it behooves persons of distinction, with their power and example, to preside over them in such a manner as to check anything that tends to the corrup tion of manners, or which is too mean or trivial for the entertainment of reasonable creatures. As to the diversions of this kind in this town, we owe them to the arts of poetry and music. My own private opinion, with relation to such recreahave heretofore given with all the franktions, ness imaginable; what concerns those arts at present the reader shall have from my correspondThe first of the letters with which I acquit ents. myself for this day, is written by one who proposes to improve our entertainments of dramatic poetry, and the other comes from three persons, who, as soon as named, will be thought capable of advancing the present state of music. "MR. SPECTAtor,

"I am considerably obliged to you for your speedy publication of my last in yours of the 18th instant, and am in no small hopes of being settled in the post of Comptroller of the Cries. Of all the objections I have hearkened after in public coffee-houses, there is but one that seems to carry any weight with it, viz: That such a post would come too near the nature of a monopoly. Now, Sir, because I would have all sorts of people made easy, and being willing to have more strings than one to my bow; in case that a comptroller should fail me, I have since formed another project, which being grounded on the dividing of a present monopoly, I hope will give the public an equivalent to their full content. You know, Sir, it is allowed, Now, there bethat the business of the stage is, as the Latin has it, jucunda et idonea dicere vitæ. ing but one dramatic theater licensed for the delight and profit of this extensive metropolis, I do humbly propose, for the convenience of such of its inhabitants as are too distant from Coventgarden, that another theater of ease may be erected in some spacious part of the city; and that the direction thereof may be made a franchise in fee to me and my heirs forever. And that the town may have no jealousy of my ever coming into a union with the set of actors now in being, I do further propose to constitute for my deputy my near kinsman and adventurer, Kit Crotchet,* whose long experience and improvements in those affairs need no recommendation. It was obvious to every spectator, what a quite different foot the stage was

Christopher Rich.

pon during his government; and had he not been bolted out of his trap-doors, his garrison might have held out forever; he having by long pains and perseverance arrived at the art of making his army fight without pay or provisions. I must confess it is with a melancholy amazement I see so wonderful a genius laid aside, and the late slaves of the stage now become its masters; dunces that will be sure to suppress all theatrical entertainments and activities that they are not able themselves to shine in!

entertainment as the Italian music grafted upon English poetry. For this end, Mr. Dieupart and: Mr. Haym, according to their several opportunities, promoted the introduction of Arsinoe, and did. it to the best advantage so great a novelty would. allow. It is not proper to trouble you with particulars of the just complaints we all of us have to make; but so it is, that without regard to our obliging pains, we are all equally set aside in the present opera. Our application, therefore, to you is only to insert the letter in your paper, that the Every man that goes to a play is not obliged town may know we have all three joined together to have either wit or understanding; and I insist to make entertainments of music for the future upon it, that all who go there should see some- at Mr. Clayton's house in York-buildings. What thing which may improve them in a way of which we promise ourselves, is to make a subscription they are capable. In short, Sir, I would have of two guineas, for eight times; and that the en something done, as well as said, on the stage. A tertainment, with the names of the authors of the man may have an active body, though he has not poetry, may be printed, to be sold in the house, a quick conception; for the imitation therefore of with an account of the several authors of the vosuch as are, as I may so speak, corporeal wits, or cal as well as the instrumental music for each nimble fellows, I would fain ask any of the pres-night; the money to be paid at the receipt of the ent mismanagers, why should not rope-dancers, tickets, at Mr. Charles Lillie's. It will, we hope, vaulters, tumblers, ladder-walkers, and posture- Sir, be easily allowed, that we are capable of unmasters appear again on our stage? After such a dertaking to exhibit, by our joint force and difrepresentation, a five-bar gate would be leaped ferent qualifications, all that can be done in muwith a better grace next time any of the audience sic; but lest you should think so dry a thing as went a hunting. Sir, these things cry aloud for an account of our proposal should be a matter unreformation, and fall properly under the province worthy of your paper, which generally contains. of Spectator-general; but how indeed should it something of public use, give us leave to say, be otherwise, while fellows (that for twenty years that favoring our design is no less than reviving together were never paid but as their master was an art which runs to ruin by the utmost barbarin the humor) now presume to pay others more ism under an affectation of knowledge. We aim than ever they had in their lives; and in con- at establishing some settled notion of what is tempt of the practice of persons of condition, music, at recovering from neglect and want very have the insolence to owe no tradesman a farthing many families who depend upon it, at making afl at the end of the week. Sir, all I propose is the foreigners who pretend to succeed in England to public good; for no one can imagine I shall ever learn the language of it as we ourselves have get a private shilling by it; therefore I hope you done, and not to be so insolent as to expect a will recommend this matter in one of your this whole nation, a refined and learned nation, should week's papers, and desire, when my house opens, submit to learn theirs. In a word, Mr. Spectator, you will accept the liberty of it for the trouble with all deference and humility, we hope to beyou have received from, have ourselves in this undertaking in such a manner, that all Englishmen, who have any skill in music may be furthered in it for their profit or diversion by what new things we shall produce;

Sir, your humble Servant,

"RALPH CROTCHET."

"P. S. I have assurances that the trunk-maker never pretending to surpass others, or asserting will declare for us."

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"We whose names are subscribed, think you the properest person to signify what we have to offer the town'in behalf of ourselves and the art which we profess, music. We conceive hopes of your favor from the speculations on the mistakes which the town run into with regard to their pleasure of this kind; and believing your method of judging is, that you consider music only valuable, as it is agreeable to, and heightens the purpose of poetry, we consent that it is not only the

that anything which is a science is not attainable by all men of all nations who have proper genius for it. We say, Sir, what we hope for, it is not expected will arrive to us by contemning others, but through the utmost diligence recommending ourselves. We are, Sir,

T

"Your most humble Servants,

"THOMAS CLAYTON,
"NICOLINO HAM,
"CHARLES DIEUPART.'

Quod decet honestum est, et quod honestum est decet.

TULL What is becoming is honorable, and what is honorable is becoming.

true way of relishing that pleasure, but also that No. 259] THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1711. without it a composure of music is the same thing as a poem, where all the rules of poetical numbers are observed, though the words have no sense or meaning; to say it shorter, mere musical sounds are in our art no other than nonsense verses are in poetry. Music, therefore, is to aggravate what is THERE are some things which cannot come un intended by poetry; it must always have some der certain rules, but which one would think passion or sentiment to express, or else violins, could not need them. Of this kind are outward voices, or any other organs of sound, afford an civilities and salutations. These, one would imentertainment very little above the rattles of chil- agine, might be regulated by every man's common dren. It was from this opinion of the matter, that sense, without the help of au instructor: but that when Mr. Clayton had finished his studies in which we call common sense suffers under that Italy, and brought over the opera ef Arsinoe, that word: for it sometimes implies no more than that Mr. Haym and Mr. Dieupart, who had the honor faculty which is common to all men, but someto be well known and received among the nobility times signifies right reason, and what all men and gentry, were zealously inclined to assist by should consent to. In this latter acceptation of their solicitations, in introducing so elegant an the phrase, it is no great vender people err so

322

much against it, since it is not every one who is
possessed of it, and there are fewer, who against
common rules and fashions, dare obey its dictates.
As to salutations, which I was about to talk of, I
observe, as I stroll about town, there are great
enormities committed with regard to this particu-
lar.
You shall sometimes see a man begin the
offer of a salutation, and observe a forbidding air,
or escaping eye, in the person he is going to
salute, and stop short in the poll of his neck.
This in the person who believed he could do it
with a good grace, and was refused the opportu-
nity, is justly resented with coldness the whole
ensuing season. Your great beauties, people in
much favor, or by any means or for any purpose
overflattered, are apt to practice this, which one
may call the preventing aspect, and throw their
attention another way, lest they should confer a
bow or a courtesy upon a person who might not
appear to deserve that dignity. Others you shall
find so obsequious, and so very courteous, as
there is no escaping their favors of this kind.
Of this sort may be a man who is in the fifth or
sixth degree of favor with a minister. This good
creature is resolved to show the world, that great
honors cannot at all change his manners; he is
the same civil person he ever was; he will ven-
ture his neck to bow out of a coach in full speed,
at once to show he is full of business, and yet not
so taken up as to forget his old friend. With a
man who is not so well-formed for courtship and
elegant behavior, such a gentleman as this seldom
finds his account in the return of his compliments;
but he will still go on, for he is in his own way,
and must not omit; let the neglect fall on your
side, or where it will, his business is still to be
well-bred to the end. I think I have read, in one
of our English comedies, a description of a fellow
that affected knowing everybody, and for want
of judgment in time and place, would bow and
smile in the face of a judge sitting in the court,
would sit in an opposite gallery and smile in the
minister's face as he came up into the pulpit, and
nod as if he alluded to some familiarities between
them in another place. But now I happen to
speak of salutation at church, I must take notice
that several of my correspondents have impor-
tuned me to consider that subject, and settle the
point of decorum in that particular.

I do not pretend to be the best courtier in the
world, but I often on public occasions thought
it a very great absurdity in the company (during
the royal presence) to exchange salutations from
all parts of the room, when certainly common
sense should suggest, that all regards at that time
should be engaged, and cannot be diverted to any
other object, without disrespect to the sovereign.
But as to the complaint of my correspondents, it
is not to be imagined what offense some of them
take at the custom of saluting in places of wor-
ship. I have a very angry letter from a lady, who
tells me of one of her acquaintance, who, out of
mere pride and a pretense to be rude, takes upon
her to return no civilities done to her in the time
of divine service, and is the most religious woman,
for no other reason than to appear a woman of the
best quality in the church. This absurd custom
had better be abolished than retained; if it were
but to prevent evils of no higher a nature than
this is; but I am informed of objections much
more considerable. A dissenter of rank and dis-
tinction was lately prevailed upon by a friend of
his to come to one of the greatest congregations
After the
of the church of England about town.
service was over, he declared he was very well
satisfied with the little ceremony which was used
toward God Almighty; but at the same time he

feared he should not be able to go through those
required toward one another: as to this point he
There have
was in a state of despair, and feared he was not
well-bred enough to be a convert.
been many scandals of this kind given to our
Protestant dissenters, from the outward pomp and
respect we take to ourselves in our religious assem-
blies. A Quaker who came one day into a church,
fixed his eye on an old lady with a carpet larger
than that from the pulpit before her, expecting
when she would hold forth. An anabaptist who
designs to come over himself, and all his family,
within a few months, is sensible they want breed-
ing enough for our congregations, and has sent
his two eldest daughters to learn to dance, that
they may not misbehave themselves in church. It
is worth considering whether, in regard to awk-
ward people with scrupulous consciences, a good
Christian of the best air in the world ought not
rather to deny herself the opportunity of showing
so many graces, than keep a bashful proselyte
without the pale of the church.-T.

No. 260.] FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1711.
Singula de nobis anni prædantur euntes.

HOR. 3 Ep. ü, 55.

Years following years steal something every day,
At last they steal us from ourselves away.-POPE.
MR. SPECTATOR,

"I AM now in the sixty-fifth year of my age, and
having been the greater part of my days a man of
pleasure, the decay of my faculties is a stagnation
of my life. But how is it, Sir, that my appetites
are increased upon me with the loss of power to
gratify them? I write this like a criminal, to
warn people to enter upon what reformation they
please to make in themselves in their youth, and
not expect they shall be capable of it from a fond
opinion some have often in their mouths, that if
we do not leave our desires, they will leave us. It
is far otherwise; I am now as vain in my dress,
and as flippant, if I see a pretty woman, as when
in my youth I stood upon a bench in the pit to
survey the whole circle of beauties. The folly is
so extravagant with me, and I went on with so
little check of my desires or resignation of them,
that I can assure you, I very often, merely to en-
tertain my own thoughts, sit with my spectacles
on, writing love-letters to the beauties that have
been long since in their graves. This is to warm
my heart with the faint memory of delights which
were once agreeable to me: but how much happier
would my life have been now, if I could have
looked back on any worthy action done for my
country? if I had laid out that which I profused
in luxury and wantonness, in acts of generosity
or charity? I have lived a bachelor to this day;
and instead of a numerous offspring, with which
in the regular ways of life I might possibly have
delighted myself, I have only to amuse myself
with the repetition of old stories and intrigues
which no one will believe I ever was concerned in.
I do not know whether you have ever treated of
it or not; but you cannot fall on a better subject,
than that of the art of growing old. In such a
lecture you must propose, that no one set his heart
upon what is transient; the beauty grows wrinkled
while we are yet gazing at her. The witty man
sinks into a humorist imperceptibly, for want of
reflecting that all things around him are in a flux,
and continually changing; thus he is in the space
as natural to them
of ten or fifteen years surrounded by a new set of
people, whose manners are
as his delights, method of thinking aud mode

R. SPECTATOR,

"Your Servant,

"T.B."

love with the house maid. We were all at hot"I am a footman in a great family, and am in cockles last night in the hall these holidays; when I lay down and was blinded, she pulled off her shoe, and hit me with the heel such a rap, as almost broke my head to pieces. Pray, Sir, was this love or spite?"-T.

of living, were formerly to him and his friends. my whole life, and she is always railing at me to But the mischief is, he looks upon the same those that she knows will tell me of it. Do not kind of error which he himself was guilty you think she is in love with me? or would you of with an eye of scorn, and with that sort of ill-have me break my mind yet, or not? will which men entertain against each other for different opinions. Thus a crazy constitution and an uneasy mind is fretted with vexatious passions for young men's doing foolishly what it is folly to do at all. Dear Sir, this is my present state of mind; I hate those I should laugh at, and envy those I contemn. The time of youth and vigorous manhood, passed the way in which I have disposed of it, is attended with these consequences; but to those who live and pass away life as they ought, all parts of it are equally pleasant; only the memory of good and worthy actions is a feast which must give a quicker relish to the soul than ever it could possibly taste in the highest enjoyments or No. 261.] SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1711. jollities of youth. As for me, if I sit down in my great chair and begin to ponder, the vagaries of a child are not more ridiculous than the circumstantes which are heaped up in my memory; fine gowns, country dances, ends of tunes, interrupted conversations, and midnight quarrels, are what must necessarily compose my soliloquy. I beg of you to print this, that some ladies of my acquaintance, and my years, may be persuaded to wear warm nightcaps this cold season; and that my old friend Jack Tawdry may buy him a cane, and not creep with the air of a strut. I must add to all this, that if it were not for one pleasure, which I thought a very mean one until of very late years, I should have no one great satisfaction left; but if I live to the tenth of March 1714, and all my securities are good, I shall be worth fifty thousand pounds.

"I am, Sir,

"Your most humble servant,
"JACK AFTERDAY."

MR. SPECTATOR,
"You will infinitely oblige a distressed lover,
if you will insert in your very next paper the fol-
lowing letter to my mistress. You must know, I
am not a person apt to despair, but she has got an
add humor of stopping short unaccountably, and
as she herself told a confidant of hers, she has cold
fits. These fits shall last her a month or six weeks
together; and as she falls into them without pro-
vocation, so it is to be hoped she will return from
them without the merit of new services. But life
and love will not admit of such intervals, there
fore pray let her be admonished as follows:

"MADAM,

"I love you, and honor you; therefore pray do not tell me of waiting until decencies, until forms, until humors, are consulted and gratified. If you have that happy constitution as to be indolent for ten weeks together, you should consider that all that while I burn in impatience and fevers; but still you say it will be time enough, though I and you too grow older while we are yet talking. Which do you think the most reasonable, that you should alter a state of indifference for happiness, and that to oblige me; or I live in torment, and that to lay no manner of obligation on you? While indulge your insensibility I am doing nothin if you favor my passion, you are bestowing bright desires, gay hopes, generous cares, noble re solutions and transporting raptures upon, "Madam,

Wedlock's an ill men eagerly embrace. My father, whom I mentioned in my first speculation, and whom I must always name with honor and gratitude, has very frequently talked to me upon the subject of marriage. I was in my younger years engaged partly by his advice and partly by my own inclinations, in the courtship of a person who had a great deal of beauty, and did not at my first approaches seem to have any aversion to me; but as my natural taciturnity hindered me from showing myself to the best advantage, she by degrees began to look upon me as a very silly fellow, and being resolved to regard merit more than anything else in the persons who made their applications to her, she married a captain of dragoous who happened to be beating up for recruits in those parts.

This unlucky accident has given me an aversion to pretty fellows ever since, and discouraged me from trying my fortune with the fair sex. The observations which I made at this conjuncture, and the repeated advices which I received at that time from the good old man above-mentioned, have produced the following essay upon love and marriage.

The pleasantest part of a man's life is generally that which passes in courtship, provided his pas sion be sincere, and the party beloved kind with discretion. Love, desire, hope, all the pleasing emotions of the soul rise in the pursuit.

It is easier for an artful man who is not in love, to persuade his mistress he has a passion for her, and to succeed in his pursuits, than for one who loves with the greatest violence. True love has ten thousand griefs, impatiencies, and resentments, that render a man unamiable in the eyes of the person whose affection he solicits; beside that it sinks his figure, gives him fears, apprehensions, and poorness of spirit, and often makes him appear ridiculous where he has a mind to recominend himself.

Those marriages generally abound most with love and constancy, that are preceded by a long courtship. The passion should strike root, and gather strength before marriage be grafted on it. A long course of hopes and expectations fixes the idea in our minds, and habituates us to a fondness of the person beloved.

There is nothing of so great importance to us, as the good qualities of one to whom we join ourselves for life; they do not make our present state agreeable, but often determine our happiness to all eternity. Where the choice is left to friends, the chief point under consideration is an estate; where the parties choose for themselves, their thoughts turn most upon the person. They have both their "Here is a gentlewoman lodges in the same reasons. The first would procure many convenihouse with ne, that I never did any injury to inences and pleasures of life to the party whose

"Your most devoted, humble Servant." "MR. SPECTATOR,