No. 340.] Monday, March 31, 1712. Quis novus hic nostris successit sedibus hospes ? What chief is this that visits us from far, racter. I have waited for his arrival in Holland, before I would let my correspondents know that I have not been so uncurious a Spectator as not to have seen prince Eugene.* It would be very difficult, as I said just now, to answer every expectation of those who have written to me on that head; nor is it possible I TAKE it to be the highest instance of a no- for me to find words to let one know what an ble mind, to bear great qualities without dis- artful glance there is in his countenance who covering in a man's behaviour and conscious- surprised Cremona; how daring he appears ness that he is superior to the rest of the world. who forced the trenches at Turin: but in geOr, to say it otherwise, it is the duty of a great neral I can say, that he who beholds him will person so to demean himself, as that, whatever easily expect from him any thing that is to be endowments he may have, he may appear imagined, or executed, by the wit or force of to value himself upon no qualities but such as man. The prince is of that stature which any man may arrive at. He ought to think makes a man most easily become all parts of exno man valuable but for his public spirit, jus-ercise; has height to be graceful on occasions of tice, and integrity; and all other endowments state and ceremony, and no less adapted for to be esteemed only as they contribute to the agility and despatch: his aspect is erect and exerting those virtues. Such a man, if he is composed; his eye lively and thoughtful, yet wise or valiant, knows it is of no consideration rather vigilant than sparkling; his action and to other men that he is so, but as he employs address the most easy imaginable, and his bethose high talents for their use and service. haviour in an assembly peculiarly graceful in He who affects the applauses and addresses of a certain art of mixing insensibly with the a multitude, or assumes to himself a pre-emi- rest, and becoming one of the company, innence upon any other consideration, must soon stead of receiving the courtship of it. The turn admiration into contempt. It is certain shape of his person, and composure of his that there can be no merit in any inan who is limbs, are remarkably exact and beautiful. not conscious of it; but the sense that it is There is in his looks something sublime, which valuable only according to the application of does not seem to arise from his quality or it, makes that superiority amiable, which would character, but the innate disposition of his otherwise be invidious. In this light it is con- mind. It is apparent that he suffers the presidered as a thing in which every man bears a sence of much company, instead of taking share. It annexes the ideas of dignity, pow- delight in it; and he appeared in public, er, and fame, in an agreeable and familiar while with us, rather to return good-will, or to him who is possessor of it; and satisfy curiosity, than to gratify any taste he all men who are strangers to him are natu- himself had of being popular. As his thoughts rally incited to indulge a curiosity in be- are never tumultuous in danger, they are as holding the person, behaviour, feature, and little discomposed on occasions of pomp and shape of him in whose character, perhaps, magnificence. A great soul is affected, in each man had formed something in common with himself. manner, either case, no further than in considering the properest methods to extricate itself from Whether such, or any other, are the causes, them. If this hero has the strong incentives all men have a yearning curiosity to behold a to uncommon enterprises that were remarkaman of heroic worth. I have had many letters ble in Alexander, he prosecutes and enjoys the from all parts of this kingdom, that request fame of them with the justness propriety, and I would give them an exact account of the good sense of Cæsar. It is easy to observe stature, the mien, the aspect of the prince in him a mind as capable of being entertainwho lately visited England, and has done such ed with contemplation as enterprise; a mind wonders for the liberty of Europe. It would ready for great exploits, but not impatient puzzle the most curious to form to himself the for occasions to exert itself. The prince has sort of man my several correspondents expect wisdom, and valour in as high perfection as to hear of by the action mentioned, when they man can enjoy it; which noble faculties, in desire a description of him. There is always conjunction, banish all vain-glory, ostentasomething that concerns themselves, and grow- tion, ambition, and all other vices which ing out of their own circumstances, in all their might intrude upon his mind, to make it uninquiries. A friend of mine in Wales beseech- equal. These habits and qualities of soul and es me to be very exact in my account of that body render this personage so extraordinary, wonderful man, who had marched an army and that he appears to have nothing in him but all its baggage over the Alps; and, if possible, what every man should have in him, the exerto learn whether the peasant who showed him tion of his very self, abstracted from the cirthe way, and is drawn in the map, be yet liv-cumstances in which fortune has placed him. ing. A gentleman from the university, who is Thus. were you to see prince Eugene, and deeply intent on the study of humanity, desires were told he was a private gentleman, you me to be as particular, if I had opportunity, would say he is a man of modesty and merit. in observing the whole interview between his Should you be told that was prince Eugene, highness and our late general. Thus do men's he would be diminished no otherwise, than fancies work according to their several educations and circumstances; but all pay a respect, mixed with admiration, to this illustrious cha-named Eugene after this prince. *He stood godfather to Steele's second son, who was that part of your distant admiration would at the same time thought a very good epiturn into a familiar good-will. This I thought fit to entertain my reader with, concerning an hero who never was equalled but by one man.* over whom also he has this advantage, that he has had an opportunity to manifest an esteem for him in his adversity. T. No. 341.] Tuesday, April 1, 1712. * logue: 'Hold! are you mad? you damn'd confounded dog, I am to rise and speak the epilogue.' 'This diverting manner was always practised by Mr. Dryden, who, if he was not the best writer of tragedies in his time, was allowed by every one to have the happiest turn for a prologue, or an epilogue. The epilogues to Cleomenes, Don Sebastian, The duke of Guise, Aurengzebe, and Love Triumphant, are all precedents of this nature. I might further justify this practice by that Dryden. excellent epilogue which was spoken, a few HAVING, to oblige my correspondent Physi- years since, after the tragedy of Phædra and bulus, printed his letter last Friday, in rela-Hippolytus;* with a great many others, in tion to the new epilogue, he cannot take it which the authors have endeavoured to make amiss if I now publish another, which I have the audience merry. If they have not all sucjust received from a gentleman who does not however shown that it was not for want of ceeded so well as the writer of this, they have agree with him in his sentiments upon that matter. SIR, good-will. I must further observe, that the gayety of it may be still the more proper, as it is at the 'I am amazed to find an epilogue attacked in end of a Freneh play; since every one knows your last Friday's paper, which has been so that nation, who are generally esteemed to generally applauded by the town, and receiv-have as polite a taste as any in Europe, always ed such honours as were never before given close their tragic entertainment, with what to any in an English theatre. they call a petite piece, which is purposely de 'The audience would not permit Mrs. Old-signed to raise mirth, and send away the audifield to go off the stage the first night till she enee well pleased. The same person who has had repeated it twice; the second night the supported the chief character in the tragedy noise of ancora was as loud as before, and she very often plays the principal part in the was obliged again to speak it twice; the third petite piece; so that I have myself seen, at night it was still called for a second time; and, Paris, Orestes and Lubin acted the same night in short, contrary to all other epilogues, which by the same man. times. are dropped after the third representation of Tragi-comedy, indeed, you have yourself the play, this has already been repeated nine in a former speculation, found fault with very justly, because it breaks the tide of the pas'I must own, I am the more surprised to sions while they are yet flowing; but this is find this censure in opposition to the whole nothing at all to the present case, where they town, in a paper which has hitherto been fa- have had already their full course. mous for the candour of its criticisms. As the new epilogue is written conformably 'I can by no means allow your melancholy to the practice of our best poets, so it is not correspondent, that the new epilogue is unnatu-such a one, which, as the duke of Buckingham ral because it is gay. If I had a mind to be says in his Rehearsal, might serve for any learned, I could tell him that the prologue and other play; but wholly rises out of the occurepilogue were real parts of the ancient trage-rences of the piece it was composed for. dy; but every one knows, that, on the British 'The only reason your mournful corresponstage, they are distinct performances by them-dent gives against this facetious epilogue, as selves, pieces entirely detached from the play, he calls it, is, that he has a mind to go home and no way essential to it. melancholy. I wish the gentleman may not The moment the play ends, Mrs. Oldfield is be more grave than wise. For my own part, no more Andromache but Mrs Oldfield; and I must confess, I think it very sufficient to have though the poet had left Andromache stone-the anguish of a fictitious piece remain upon dead upon the stage, as your ingenious corre- me while it is representing; but I love to be spondent phrases it, Mrs. Oldfield might still have spoken a merry epilogue. We have an instance of this in a tragedy where there is not only a death, but a martyrdom. St. Catherine was there personated by Nell Gwin; she lies stone-dead upon the stage, but upon those gentlemen's offering to remove her body, whose 'It is pleasant enough to hear this tragical business it is to carry off the slain in our Eng- genius complaining of the great mischief Anlish tragedies, she breaks out into that abrupt dromache had done him. beginning of what was a very ludicrous, but Why, she made him laugh. sent home to bed in a good humour. If Physibulus is, however, resolved to be inconsolable, and not to have his tears dried up, he need only continue his old custom, and, when he has had his half crown's worth of sorrow, slink out before the epilogue begins. ་ What was that? *The duke of Marlborough, who was disgraced about wrote a prologue to this play to ridicule the Italian * Mr. Edmund Neal, alias Smith, 8vo. 1707. Addison his time. operas. The epilogue was written by Prior. VOL. II. case, man's sufferings put me in mind of Harlequin's great deal of reflection. I cannot say but this who was tickled to death. He tells us arose very much from the circumstances of soon after, through a small mistake of sorrow my own life, who am a soldier, and expect for rage, that during the whole action he was every day to receive orders, which will oblige so very sorry, that he thinks he could have at- me to leave behind a wife that is very dear to tacked half a score of the fiercest Mohocks in me, and that very deservedly. She is at prethe excess of his grief. I cannot but look up- sent, I am sure, no way below your Asteria on it as an unhappy accident, that a man who for conjugal affection: but I see the behaviour is so bloody-minded in his affliction was di- of some women so little suited to the circumverted from this fit of outrageous melancholy. stances wherein my wife and I shall soon be, The valour of this gentleman in his distress that it is with a reluctance, I never knew before, brings to one's memory the Knight of the I am going to my duty. What puts me to presorrowful Countenance, who lays about him sent pain is, the example of a young lady, at such an unmerciful rate in an old romance. whose story you shall have as well as I can I shall readily grant him that his soul, as he give it you. Hortensius, an officer of good himself says, would have made a very ridi- rank in his majesty's service, happened, in a culous figure, had it quitted the body, and certain part of England, to be brought to a descended to the poetical shades, in such an country gentleman's house, where he was reencounter. ceived with that more than ordinary welcome As to his conceit of tacking a tragic head with which men of domestic lives entertain with a comic tail, in order to refresh the au- such few soldiers whom a military life, from dience, it is such a piece of jargon, that I do the varitey of adventures, has not rendered not know what to make of it. over-bearing, but humane, easy, and agreea'The elegant writer makes a very sudden ble. Hortentius staid here some time, and had transition from the playhouse to the church, easy access at all hours, as well as unavoidaand from thence to the gallows. ble conversation, at some parts of the day, 'As for what relates to the church, he is of with the beautiful Sylvana, the gentleman's opinion that these epilogues have given occa-daughter. People who live in cities are wonsion to those merry jigs from the organ-loft, derfully struck with every little country abode which have dissipated those good thoughts they see when they take the air; and it is naand dispositions he has found in himself, and tural to fancy they could live in every neat the rest of the pew, upon the singing of two cottage (by which they pass) much happier staves culled out by the judicious and diligent than in their present circumstances. The turclerk. bulent way of life which Hortensius was used He fetches his next thought from Tyburn; to, made him reflect with much satisfaction and seems very apprehensive lest there should on all the advantages of a sweet retreat one happen any innovations in the tragedies of day; and, among the rest, you will think it his friend Paul Lorrain. not improbable it might enter into his thought, In the mean time, sir, this gloomy writer. that such a woman as Sylvana would consumwho is so mightily scandalized at a gay epi-mate the happiness. The world is so debauchlogue after a serious play, speaking of the fate ed with mean considerations, that Hortensius of those unhappy wretches who are condemn- knew it would be received as an act of generoed to suffer an ignominious death by the jus-sity, if he asked for a woman of the highest tice of our laws, endeavours to make the reader merit, without further questions, of a parent merry on so improper an occasion, by who had nothing to add to her persona! qualithose poor burlesque expressions of tragical fications. The wedding was celebrated at her dramas and monthly performances. I am, Sir, with great respect, 'Your most obedient, most humble servant, 'PHILOMEDES.' X. father's house. When that was over, the generous husband did not proportion his provision for her to the circumstances of her fortune, but considered his wife as his darling, his pride, and his vanity; or, rather, that it was in the woman he had chosen that a man of sense could show pride or vanity with an excuse, and therefore adorned her with rich habits and valuable jewels. He did not, however, omit to admonish her, 'that he did his Justice consists in doing no injury to men: decency, in very utmost in this; that it was an ostentation giving them no offence. As regard to decency is a great rule of life in general, but more especially to be consulted by the female world, I cannot overlook the following letter, which describes an egregious offender. MR. SPECTATOR, I was this day looking over your papers, and reading, in that of December the 6th, with great delight, the amiable grief of Asteria for the absence of her husband, it threw me into a he could not be guilty of but to a woman he Jooking-glass, that the love he conceived for her lish of life, and falling into contempt of their constant retinue of the vainest young fellows No. 343.] Thursday, April 3, 1712. Now, Mr. Spectator, would it not be al I am, Sir, Errat, et illinc All things are but alter'd; nothing dies; WILL HONEYCOMB, who loves to show upon occasion all the little learning he has picked up, told us yesterday at the club, that he thought there might be a great deal said for the transmigration of souls; and that the eastern parts of the world believed in that doctrine to this day. Sir Paul Rycaut,' says he, 'gives us an account of several well-disposed 'Your most obedient humble servant.' Mahometans that purchase the freedom of any little bird they see confined to a cage, All strictness of behaviour is so unmercifully and think they merit as much by it as we laughed at in our age, that the other much should do here by ransoming any of our counworse extreme is the more common folly. trymen from their captivity at Algiers. Yon But let any woman consider, which of the must know,' says Will, the reason is, betwo offences an husband would the more easi- cause they consider every animal as a brother ly forgive, that of being less entertaining than or sister in disguise; and therefore think themshe could to please company, or raising the selves obliged to extend their charity to them, desires of the whole room to his disadvantage; though under such mean circumstances. They'll and she will easily be able to form her con- tell you,' says Will, that the soul of a man, duct. We have indeed carried women's cha- when he dies, immediately passes into the boracters too much into public life, and you dy of another man, or of some brute, which shall see them now-a-days affect a sort of he resembled in his humour, or his fortune. fame: but I cannot help venturing to disoblige when he was one of us.' them for their service, by telling them, that the As I was wondering what this profusion of utmost of a woman's character is contained in learning would end in, Will told us, that 'Jack domestic life; she is blameable or praisewor-Freelove, who was a fellow of whim, made thy according as her carriage affects the house love to one of those ladies who throw away all of her father or her husband. All she has to their fondness on parrots, monkeys, and lapdo in this world, is contained within the duties dogs. Upon going to pay her a visit one of a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mother. morning, he writ a very pretty epistle upon All these may be well performed, though a la- this hint. Jack,' says he, was conducted indy should not be found the very finest woman to the parlour, where he diverted himself for at an opera or an assembly. They are like some time with her favourite monkey, which wise consistent with a modest share of wit, a was chained in one of the windows; till at plain dress, and a modest air. But when the length observing a pen and ink lie by him, very brains of the sex are turned, and they he writ the following letter to his mistress place their ambition on circumstances, where- in the person of the monkey; and, upon her in to excel is no addition to what is truly com- not coming down so soon as he expected, mendable, where can this end, but as it fre- left it in the window, and went about his buquently does, in their placing all their indus-siness. try, pleasure, and ambition, on things which The lady soon after coming into the parwill naturally make the gratifications of life last, lour, and seeing her monkey look upon a paat best, no longer than youth and good for- per with great earnestness, took it up, and tune? When we consider the least ill conse- to this day is in some doubt,' says Will, quence, it can be no less than looking on their whether it was written by Jack or the monown condition, as years advance, with a disre-key.' ⚫ DADAM, As 'My soul then entered into a flying-fish, and in that state led a most melancholy life for the Not having the gift of speech, I have a space of six years. Several fishes of prey purlong time waited in vain for an opportunity of sued me when I was in the water; and if I making myself known to you; and having at betook myself to my wings, it was ten to one present the conveniencies of pen, ink, and but I had a flock of birds aiming at me. paper, by me, I gladly take the occasion of I was one day flying amidst a fleet of English giving you my history in writing, which I ships, I observed a huge sea-gull whetting his could not do by word of mouth. You must bill, and hovering just over my head: upon know, madam, that about a thousand years my dipping into the water to avoid him, I fell ago I was an Indian brachman, and versed in into the mouth of a monstrous shark, that swalall those mysterious secrets which your Euro-lowed me down in an instant. pean philosopher, called Pythagoras, is said to 'I was some years afterwards, to my great have learned from our fraternity. I had so surprise, an eminent banker in Lombard-street; ingratiated myself, by my great skill in the and, remembering how I had formerly suffered Occult sciences, with a dæmon whom I used for want of money, became so very sordid and to converse with, that he promised to grant avaricious, that the whole town cried shame me whatever I should ask of him. I desired of me. I was a miserable little old fellow to that my soul might never pass into the body look upon; for I had in a manner starved myof a brute creature; but this, he told me, was self, and was nothing but skin and bone when not in his power to grant me. I then begged I died. that, into whatever creature I should chance 'I was afterwards very much troubled and to transmigrate, I should still retain my me- amazed to find myself dwindled into an emmet. mory, and be conscious that I was the same I was heartily concerned to make so insigniperson who lived in different animals. This, ficant a figure, and did not know but some he told me, was within his power, and accord-time or other I might be reduced to a mite, if ingly promised, on the word of a dæmon, that I did not meud my manners. I therefore aphe would grant me what I desired. From that time forth I lived so very unblameably, that I was made president of a college of brachmans, an office which I discharged with great integrity until the day of my death. 'I was then shuffled into another human plied myself with great diligence to the offices that were allotted to me, and was generally looked upon as the notablest ant in the whole mole-hill. I was at last picked up, as I was groaning under a burden, by an unlucky cocksparrow, that lived in the neighbourhood, and body, and acted my part so well in it, that I had before made great depredations upon our became first minister to a prince who reigned commonwealth. upon the banks of the Ganges. I here lived 'I then bettered my condition a little, and in great honour for several years, but by de-lived a whole summer in the shape of a bee; grees lost all the innocence of the brach- but being tired with the painful and penurious man, being obliged to rifle and oppress the life I had undergone in my two last transmipeople to enrich my sovereign; till at length grations I fell into the other extreme, and became so odious, that my master, to re-turned drone. As I one day headed a parcover his credit with his subjects, shot me ty to plunder an hive, we through the heart with an arrow, as I was one so warmly by the swarm which defended day addressing myself to him at the head of his it, that we were most of us left dead upon the spot. army. were received Upon my next remove, I found myself in 'I might tell you of many other transmigrathe woods under the shape of a jackal, and tions which I went through: how I was a townsoon listed myself in the service of a lion. Irake, and afterwards did penance in a bay used to yelp near his den about midnight, gelding for ten years; as also how I was a which was his time of rousing and seeking af- tailor, a shrimp, and a tom-tit, In the last of ter prey. He always followed me in the rear, these my shapes, I was shot in the Christmas and when I had run down a fat buck, a wild holidays by a young jackanapes, who would goat, or an hare, after he had feasted very needs try his gun upon me. plentifully upon it himself, would now and then throw me a bone that was but half-picked, for my encouragement; but, upon my being unsuccessful in two or three chases, he gave me such a confounded gripe in his anger that died of it. I 'But I shall pass over these and several other stages of life, to remind you of the young beau who made love to you about six years since. You may remember, madam, how he masked, and danced, and sung, and played a thousand tricks to gain you; and how he was 'In my next transmigration, I was again set at last carried off by a cold that he got under upon two legs, and became an Indian tax-ga- your window one night in a serenade. I was therer; but having been guilty of great extra- that unfortunate young fellow to whom you vagancies, and being married to an expensive were then so cruel. Not long after my shiftjade of a wife, I ran so cursedly in debt, that ing that unlucky body, I found myself upon a I durst not show my head. I could no sooner hill in Ethiopia, where I lived in my present step out of my house but I was arrested by grotesque shape, till I was caught by a servant somebody or other that lay in wait for me. of the English factory, and sent over into As I ventured abroad one night in the dusk Great Britain. I need not inform you how I of the evening, I was taken up and hurried into came into your hands. You see, madam, this a dungeon, where I died a few months after. is not the first time that you have had me in a |