"The fouls of one kind of women were form"ed out of thofe ingredients which compofe a << fwine. A woman of this make is a flut in "her house and a glutton at her table. She is "uncleanly in her perfon, a flattern in her drefs, "and her family is no better than a dunghill. "A fecond fort of female foul was formed out "of the fame materials that enter into the com"pofition of a fox. Such an one is what we call "a notable difcerning woman, who has an in"fight into every thing, whether it be good or "bad. In this fpecies of females there are fome "virtuous and fome vicious. + "A third kind of women were made up of ca"nine particles. Thefe are what we commonly call fcolds, who imitate the animals out of "which they were taken,, that are always bufy and barking, that fnarl at every one who comes in their way, and live in perpetual clamour. "The fourth kind of women were made out of the earth. Thefe are your fluggards, who pafs away their time in indolence and igno❝rance, hover over the fire a whole winter, and "apply themfelves with alacrity to no kind of "bufinefs but eating. "The fifth fpecies of females were made out "of the fea. Thefe are women of variable un" even tempers, fometimes all form and tempeft, "fometimes all calm and funfhine. The ftranger "who fees one of thefe in her fmiles and fimooth "nefs, would cry her up for a miracle of good "humour; but on a fudden her looks and words "are changed, he is nothing but fury and out"rage, noife and hurricane, "The fixth fpecies were made up of the in"gredients which compofe an afs, or a beaft of "burden, Thefe are naturally exceeding floth "ment. She loves her husband, and is beloved "by him. She brings him a race of beautiful "and virtuous children. She diftinguithes her"felf among her fex. She is furrounded with 66 graces. She never fits among the loofe tribe "of women, nor paffes away her time with them "in wanton difcourfes. She is full of virtue and "prudence, and is the best wife that Jupiter can "bestow on man. 23 ful, but upon the husband's exerting his authority, will live upon hard fare, and do every "thing to pleafe him. They are however far "from being averfe to venereal pleafure, and "feldom refufe a male companion. "The cat furnished materials for a feventh "fpecies of women, who are of a melancholy, "froward, unamiable nature, and fo repugnant "to the offers of love, that they fly in the face of "their husband when he approaches them with "conjugal endearments. This fpecies of women "are likewife fubject to little thefts, cheats,, and "pilferings. "The mare with a flowing mane, which was "never broke to any fervile toil and labour, coman of women. Thefe are "they who have little regard for their husbands, "who pafs away their time in dreffing, bathing, and perfuming; who throw their hair into "the niceft curls, and trick it up with the fairest "flowers and garlands. A woman of this fpe"cies is a very pretty thing for a stranger to look "upon, but very detrimental to the owner, un"lefs it be a king or prince who takes a fancy to fuch a toy. "The ninth fpecies of females were taken out of the ape. These are fuch as are both ugly and ill-natured, who have nothing beautiful in themselves, and endeavour to detract from "or ridicule every thing, which appears fo in ❝ others. "The tenth and laft fpecies of women were made out of the bee; and happy is the man who gets fuch an cne for his wife. She is al"together faultlefs and unblameable; her family «flourishes and improves by her good manage I fhall conclude thefe iambics with the motto of this paper, which is a fragment of the fame author: A man cannot poffefs any thing that "is better than a good woman, nor any thing that "is worfe than a bad one." As the poet has fhewn a great penetration in this diverfity of female characters, he has avoided the fault which Juvenal and Monfieur Boileau are guilty of, the former in his fixth, and the other in his last fatire, where they have endeavoured to expofe the fex in general, without doing justice to the valuable part of it. Such levelling fatires are of no use to the world, and for this reafon I have often wondered how the French author above-mentioned, who was a man of exquifite judgment, and a lover of virtue, could think human nature a proper fubje&t for fatire in another of his celebrated pieces, which is called "The "fatire upon man." What vice or frailty can a difcourfe correct, which cenfures the whole fpecies alike, and endeavours to fhew by fome fuperfcial strokes of wit, that brutes are the more excellent creatures of the two? A fatire fhould expofe nothing but what is corrigible, and make a due difcrimination between thofe who are, and those who are not the proper objects of it. L its own great privileges and endowments; nor a more effectual means to awaken in us an ambition raised above low objects and little purfuits, than to value ourselves as heirs of eternity. It is a very great fatisfaction to confider the best and wifeft of mankind in all nations and ages, afferting, as with one voice, this their birthright, and to find it ratified by an exprefs • revelation. At the fame time if we turn our thoughts inward upon ourfelves, we may meet with a kind of fecret fenfe concurring with the proofs of our own immortality. You have, in my opinion, raised a good prefumptive argument from the increafing appetite the mind has to knowledge, and to the extending its own faculties, which cannot be accomplifhed, as the more refrained perfection of 36 lower creatures may, in the limits of a fhort life. I think another probable conjecture may be raised from our appetite to duration itself, and from a reflexion on our progress thro' the ⚫ several stages of it! We are complaining," as you obferve in a former fpeculation, "of the fhortness of life, and yet are perpetually hur"rying over the parts of it to arrive at certain "little fettlements, or imaginary points of rest, "which are difperfed up and down in it." с 'Now let us confider what happens to us when we arrive at thefe "imaginary points of reft:" Do we stop our motion, and fit down fatisfied in the fettlement we have gained? or are we not removing the boundary, and marking out new points of reft, to which we prefs forward ' with the like eagernefs, and which cease to be fuch as fast as we attain them? Our cafe is like that of a traveller upon the Alps, who fhould 'fancy that the top of the next hill must end his journey, because it terminates his profpect; but he no fooner arrives at it than he fees new 'ground and other hills beyond it, and continues to travel on as before. This is fo plainly every man's condition in life, that there is no one who has obferved any thing, but may obferve, that as faft as his time < < wears away, his appetite to fomething future remains. The ufe therefore I would make of it is this, that fince nature, as fome love to ex' prefs it, does nothing in vain, or, to speak properly, fince the Author of our being has planted < no wandering paffion in it, no defire which has not its object, futurity is the proper object of Z the paffion fo conftantly exercifed about it; and this reftleffness in the prefent, this affigning ourselves over to farther ftages of duration, this 'fucceffive grafping at somewhat ftill to come, " appears to me, whatever it may to others, as a 'kind of inftin&t or natural symptom which the mind of man has of its own immortality. I take it at the fame time for granted, that the immortality of the foul is fufficiently established by other arguments: and if fo, this ap'petite, which otherwife would be very unaccountable and abfurd, feems very reafonable, and adds strength to the conclufion. But I am amazed when I confider there are creatures capable of thought, who, in spite of every argument, ean form to themfelves a fullen fatisfaction in thinking otherwife. There is fomething fo pitifully mean in the inverted ambition of that man who can hope for annihilation, and pleafe himself to think that his whole fabric. fhall one day crumble into duft, and mix with The defpair which is here fhewn, without a 'word or action on the part of the dying person, ' is beyond what could be painted by the most forcible expreffions whatever. I fhall not pursue this thought farther, but only add, that as annihilation is not to be had with a wish, fo it is the most abject thing in the world to wish it. What are honour, fame, 'wealth, or power, when compared with the ge" nerous expectation of a being without end, and a happiness adequate to that being? " me, " I fhall trouble you no farther; but with a certain gravity which there thoughts have given I reflect upon fome things people fay of you, as they will of men who diftinguish ther felves, which I hope are not true; and wish you as good a man as you are an author. I am, SIR, < Your most obedient humble fervant, No 211. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER I. Phædr. lib. 1. Prol. Let it be remember'd that we sport in fabled fto ries. H AVING lately tranflated the fragment of an old poet which defcribes womankind under feveral characters, and fuppofes, them to have drawn their different manners and difpofitions from thofe animals and elements out of which he tells us they were compounded; I had fome thoughts of giving the fex their revenge, by laying together in another paper the many vi cious characters which prevail in the male world, and fhewing the different ingredients that go to the making up of fuch different humours and conftitutions. Horace has a thought which is fome M m fomething akin to this, when, in order to excufe himf. If to his mitrefs, for an invective which he had written against her, and to account for that un easonable fury with which the heart of man is often tranfported, he tells us, that when Prometheus made his man of clay, in the kneading up of the heart, he feafened it with fome furious particies of the lion. But upon turning this plan to and fro in my thoughts, I obferved fo many unaccountable humours in man, that I did not know cut of what animals to fetch them. Male fouls are diversified with fo many characters, that the world has not variety of materials fufficient to furnish out their different tempers and inclinations. The creation, with all its animals and elements, would not be large enough to fupply their several extravagancies. C Inítead therefore of pursuing the thought of Simon'des, I shall obferve, that as he has expofed the vicious part of women from the doctrine of piz-existence, fome of the ancient philofophers have, in a manner, fatirized the vicious part of the human fpecies in general, from a notion of, the foul's poft-existence, if I may fo call it; and that as Simonides defcribes brutes entering into the compofition of women, others have reprefented human fouls as entering into brutes. This is commonly termed the doctrine of tranfmigration, which fuppofes that human fouls, upon their leaving the body, become the fouls of fuch kinds of brutes as they moft refemble in their manners; or to give an account of it as Mr. Dryden has defcribed it in his tranflation of Pythagoras his fpeech in the fifteenth book of Ovid, where that philofopher diffuades his hearers from eating flesh : "Thus all things are but alter'd, nothing dies, Plato in the vifion of Erus the Armenian, which I may poffibly make the fubject of a future fpeculation, records fome beautiful transmigrations; as that the foul of Orpheus, who was mufical, melancholy, and a woman-hater, entered into a fwan; the foul of Ajax, which was all wrath and fiercenefs, into a lion; the foul of Agamemnon, that was rapacious and imperial, into an eagle; and the foul of Therfites, who was a mimic and a buffoon, into a mon. key. Mr. Congreve, in a prologue to one of his comedies, has touched upon this doctrine with great humour. duced. My following correfpondents will fhew. what I there obferved, that the fpeculation of that day affects only the lower part of the sex. From my houfe in the Strand, October 30, 1711. that I am a bee. My fhop, or if you please to call it fo, my cell, is in that great hive of fe'males which goes by the name of "The NewExchange;" where I am daily employed in gathering together a little ftock of gain from the 'finest flowers about the town, I mean the ladies and the beaux. I have a numerous fwarm of children, to whom I give the best education I am able: but, Sir, it is my misfortune to be married to a drone, who lives upon what I get, ' without bringing any thing into the common ftock. Now, Sir, as on the one hand I take wafp, fo likewife I would not have him look care not to behave myself towards him like a upon me as an humble-bee; for which reason 'I do all I can to put him upon laying up pro'vifions for a bad day, and frequently reprefent 6 to him the fatal effects his floth and negligence ' 6 • Mr. Spectator, may bring upon us in our old age. I must beg that you will join with me in your good ad'vice upon this occafion, and you will for ever • oblige "Your humble fervant, PON reading your Tuesday's paper, I find in SIR, Piccadilly, October 31, 1711. I AM joined in wedlock for my fins to one of thofe fillies who are described in the old poet with that hard name you gave us the other C day. She has a flowing mane, and a skin as foft as filk: but, Sir, fhe paffes half her life at her glass, and almoft ruins me in ribbons. For my own part, I am a plain handicraft man, and in danger of breaking by her laziness and ex'penfiveness. Pray, mafter, tell me in your next paper, whether I may not expect of her fo much drudgery as to take care of her family, and to curry her hide in cafe of refufal. "Your loving friend, 'Barnaby Brittle,, SIR, Wapping, October 31. 1711. VER fince your Spectator of Tuesday laft my is pleased to call me his Oceana, because the foolith old poet that you have tranflated fays, that the fouls of fome women are made of foa-water. This, it feems, has encouraged my faucebox to be witty upon me. When I am angry, he cries pr'ythee my dear be calm; when I chide one of my fervants, pr'ythee child do not blufter. He had the impudence about an hour ago to tell me, that he was a fea-faring man, and must expect to divide his life between ftorm < < C and sunshine. When I beftir myself with any L Martha Tempest.' N° 212. Colla jugo, liber, liber fum, dic age Loofe thy neck from this ignoble chain, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2. Hor. Sat. 7. 1, 2. ver. 92. abroad, except fhe fometimes takes me with her in her coach to take the air, if it may be 'called fo, when we drive, as we generally do, with the glaffes up. I have over-heard my fervants lament my condition, but they dare not bring me meffages without her knowledge, be-. cause they doubt my refolution to ftand by them. In the midst of this infipid way of life, an old acquaintance of mine, Tom Meggot, 'who is a favourite with her, and allowed to vi'fit me in her company because he fings prettily, ' has roufed me to rebel, and conveyed his intelligence to me in the following manner. My wife is a great pretender to mufic, and very ignorant of it; but far gone in the Italian taste. Tom goes to Armstrong, the famous fine wri, ter of mufic, and defires him to put this fentence of Tully in the scale of an Italian air, and write it out for my spouse from him. "ille mihi liber cui mulier imperat? Cui leges C 6 "An imponit, præfcribit, jubet, vetat, quod videtur? "Qui nihil imperanti negare, nihil recufare au"det? Pofcit? dandum eft. Vocat?, venien"dum. Ejicit? abeundum. Minitatur? exti. "mifcendum. Does he live like a Gentleman "who is commanded by a woman? He to whom "The gives law, grants and denies what the "pleases? who can neither deny her any thing "The afks, or refufe to do any thing he com. "mands?" CREECH. • Mr. Spectator, I Never look upon my dear wife, but I think of the happiness Sir Roger de Coverley enjoys, · in having fuch, a friend as you to expofe in proper colours the cruelty and perverfenefs of his 'mistress. I have very often wished you vifited C in our family, and were acquainted with my To be short, my wife was extremely pleased with it; faid, the Italian was the only lan< guage for mufic; and admired how wonderfully tender the fentiment was, and how pretty the accent is of that language, with the reft that is faid by rote on that occafion. Mr. Meggot is fent for to fing this air, which he performs with mighty applaufe; and my wife is in ecftacy on the occafion, and glad to find, by my being fo much pleafed, that I was at laft come into the notion of the Italian; for, faid fhe, it grows upon one when one once comes to know a little of the language: and pray, Mr. Meggot 'fing again thofe notes, "Nihil imperanti ne · C " 6 << can in writing. You are to know then that I gare, nihil recufare.". You may believe I was < · < SIR, Your most obedient humble fervant, P. S. I hope I need not tell you that I defire this may be in your very next.' T: NO No 213. SATURDAY, Nov. 3. · Mens fibi confcia reƐti. A good intention. Virg. Æn. 1. ver. 608. T is the great art and fecret of Chriftianity, if I may use that phrafe, to manage our actions to the beft advantage, and direct them in fuch a manner, that every thing we do may turn to account at that great day, when every thing we have done will be fet before us. * In order to give this confideration its full weight, we may caft all our actions under the division of such as are in themselves either good, evil, or indifferent. If we divide our intentions after the fame manner, and confider them with regard to our actions, we may difcover the great art and fecret of religion which I have here mentioned. A good intention joined to a good action, give it its proper force and efficacy: joined to an evil action, extenuates its malignity, and in fome cafes may take it wholly away; and joined to an indifferent action turns it to a virtue, and makes it meritorious as far as human actions can be fo. In the next place, to confider in the fame manner the influence of an evil intention upon our actions. An evil intention perverts the beft of actions, and makes them in reality, what the fathers with a witty kind of zeal have termed the virtues of the heathen world, fo many fhining fins. It deftroys the innocence of an indifferent action, and gives an evil action all poffible blacknefs and horror, or in the emphatical language of facred writ, "makes fin exceeding fintul." If, in the laft place, we confider the nature of an indifferent intention, we shall find that it deftroys the merit of a good action; abates, but never takes away, the malignity of an evil action; and leaves an indifferent action in its natural ftate of indifference. It is therefore of unfpeakable advantage to poffefs our minds with an habitual good intention, and to aim all our thoughts, words and actions at fome laudable end, whether it be the glory of our Maker, the good of mankind, or the benefit of our own fouls. This is a fort of thrift or good husbandry in moral life, which does not throw away any fingle action, but makes every one go as far as it It multiplies the means of falvation, increafes the number of our virtues, and dimi nishes that of our vices. can. There is fomething very devout, though not folid, in Acofta's anfwer to Limborch, who objects to him the multiplicity of ceremonies in the Jewith religion, as wafhings, dreffes, meats, purgations, and the like. The reply which the Jew makes upon this occafion, is, to the belt of my remembrance, as follows: There are not duties enough (fays he) in the effential parts of the law for a zealous and active obedience. Time, place, and perfon are requifite, before you have an opportunity of putting a moral virtue into practice. We have therefore, fays he, enlarged the fphere of our duty, and made many things which are in themfelves indifferent, a part of our religion, that we may have more occafions of fhewing our love to God, and in all the circumftances of life be doing fomething to please him ' Monfieur St. Evremond has endeavoured to palliate the fuperfti ions of the Roman-catholic religion with the fame kind of apology, where' he pretends to confider the different spirit of the Papifts and the Calvinifts, as to the great points wherein they difagree. He tells us, that the former are actuated by love, and the other by fear; and that in their expreffions of duty and devotion towards the Supreme Being, the former feem particularly careful to do every thing which may poffibly please him, and the other to abftain from every thing which may poffibly displease him. But notwithstanding this plaufible reason with which both the Jew and the Roman-catholic would excufe their refpective fuperftitions, it is certain there is fomething in them very pernicious to mankind, and deftructive to religion; because the injunction of fuperfluous ceremonies makes fuch actions duties, as were before indifferent, and by that means renders religion more burthenfome and difficult than it is in its own rature, betrays many into fins of omiffion which they could not otherwife be guilty of, and fixes the minds of the vulgar to the fhadowy uneffen, tial points, inftead of the more weighty and more important matters of the law. This zealous and active obedience however takes place in the great point we are recommending; for if, instead of prefcribing to ourselves indifferent actions as duties; we apply a good intention to all our most indifferent actions, we make our very exiftence one continued act of obedience, we turn our diverfions and amufe ments to our eternal advantage, and are pleafing him, whom we are made to pleafe, in all the cir cumftances and occurrences of life. It is this excellent frame of mind, this holy officiousness, if I may be allowed to call it fuch, which is recommended to us by the Apoftle in that uncommon precept, wherein he directs us to propofe to ourfelves the glory of our Creator in all our most indifferent actions, whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do.' · A perfon therefore who is poffeffed with fuch an habitual good intention, as that which I have been here fpeaking of, enters upon no fingle circumftance of life, without confidering it as wellpleafing to the great author of his being, conformable to the dictates of reafon, fuitable to human nature in general, or to that particular ftation in which Providence has placed him. He lives in a perpetual fenfe of the Divine Prefence, regards himself as acting, in the whole courfe of his exiftence, under the obfervation and inspection of that Being, who is privy to all his motions, and all his thoughts, who knows his "down-fitting and his up-rifing, who is about "his path, and about his bed, and spieth out "all his ways." In a word, he remembers that the eye of his judge is always upon him, and in every action he reflects that he is doing what is commanded or allowed by him who will hereafter either reward or punish it. This was the character of thofe holy men of old, who in that beautiful phrafe of Scripture are faid to have "walked with God." When I employ myself upon a paper of morality, I generally confider how I may recommend the particular virtue whicli I treat of, by the precepts or examples of the ancient heathens; by that means, if poffible, to fhame those who have greater advantages of knowing |
