Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

love with Eury bates. Hurt in the fall, but recov- | which are told out of malice he should expose, ered.

N. B. This was the second time of her leaping. Hesperus, a young man of Tarentum, in love with his master's daughter. Drowned, the boats not coming in soon enough to his relief.

Sappho, the Lesbian, in love with Phaon, arrived at the temple of Apollo habited like a bride, in garinents as white as snow. She wore a garland of myrtle on her head, and carried in her hand the little musical instrument of her own invention. After having sung a hymn to Apollo, she hung up her garland on one side of his altar, and her harp on the other. She then tucked up her vestments like a Spartan virgin, and amidst thousands of spectators, who were anxious for her safety and offered up vows for her deliverance, marched directly forward to the utmost summit of the promontory, where, after having repeated a stanza of her own verses, which we could not hear, she threw herself off the rock with such intrepidity as was never before observed in any who had attempted that dangerous leap. Many who were present related, that they saw her fall into the sea, from whence she never rose again; though there were others who affirmed that she never came to the bottom of her leap, but that she was changed into a swan as she fell, and that they saw her hovering in the air under that shape. But whether or no the whiteness and fluttering of her garments might not deceive those who looked upon her, or whether she might not really be metamorphosed into that musical and melancholy bird, is still a doubt among the Lesbians.

both for his own sake and that of the rest of mankind, because every man should rise against a common enemy; but the officious liar, many have argued, is to be excused, because it does some man good, and no man hurt. The man who made more than ordinary speed from a fight in which the Athenians were beaten, and told them they had obtained a complete victory, and put the whole city into the utmost joy and exultation, was checked by the magistrates for this falsehood. but excused himself by saying, "O Athenians! am I your enemy because I gave you two happy days?" This fellow did to a whole people what an acquaintance of mine does every day he lives, in some eminent degree, to particular persons. He is ever lying people into good humor, and as Plato said it was allowable in physicians to lie to their patients to keep up their spirits, I am half doubtful whether my friend's behavior is not as excusable. Bis manner is to express himself surprised at the cheerful countenance of a man whom he observes diffident of himself; and generally by that means makes his lie a truth. He will, as if he did not know anything of the circumstance, ask one whom he knows at variance with another, what is the meaning that Mr. Such-a-one, naming his adversary, does not applaud him with that heartiness which formerly he has heard him? "He said, indeed," continues he, "I would rather have that man for my friend than any man in England; but for an enemy" This melts the person he talks to, who expected nothing but downright raillery from that side. According as he sees his practice succeed, he goes to the opposite party, and tells him, he cannot imagine how little; You spoke with so much coldness of a gentleman who said more good of you, than, let me tell you, any man living deserves." The success of one of these incidents was that the next time one of the adversaries spied the other, he hems after him in the public street, and they must crack a bottle at the next tavern, that used to turn out of the other's way to avoid one another's eyeshot. He will tell one beauty she was commended by another, nay, he will say she gave the woman he speaks to the preference in a particular for which she herself is admired. The pleasantest confusion imaginable is made through the whole town by my friend's indirect offices. You shall have a visit returned after half a year's absence, and mutual railing at each other every day of that time. They meet with a thousand lamentations for so long a separation, each party naming herself for the greatest delinquent, if the other can possibly be so good as to forgive her, which she has no reason in the world, but from the knowledge of her goodness, to hope for. Very often a whole train of railers of each side tire their horses in setting matters right which they have said during the war between the parties; and a whole circle of acquaintance are put into a thousand pleasing passions and sentiments, instead of the pangs of anger, envy, detraction, and malice.

Alcæus, the famous lyric poet, who had for some time been passionately in love with Sappho, arrived at the promontory of Leucate that very even-it happens that some people know one another so ing in order to take the leap upon her account; but hearing that Sappho had been there before him, and that her body could be nowhere found, he very generously lamented her fa 1, and is said to have written his hundred and twenty-fifth ode upon that occasion.

[blocks in formation]

No. 234.] WEDNESDAY, NOV. 28, 1711. Vellem in amicitia sic erraremus.-IR. 1 Sat. iii, 41. I wish this error in your friendship reign'd.—CREECH. You very often hear people, after a story has been told with some entertaining circumstances, tell it over again with particulars that destroy the jest, but give light into the truth of the narration. This sort of veracity, though it is impertinent, has something amiable in it, because it proceeds from the love of truth, even in frivolous occasions. If such honest amendments do not promise an agreeable companion, they do a sincere friend; for which reason one should allow them so much of our time, if we fall into their company, as to set us right in matters that can do us no manner of harm, whether the facts be one way or the other. Lies which are told out of arrogance and ostentation, a man should detect in his own defense, because he should not be triumphed over. Lies

The worst evil I ever observed this man's falsehood occasion, has been, that he turned detraction into flattery. He is well skilled in the manners of the world, and by overlooking what men really are, he grounds his artifices upon what they have a mind to be. Upon this foundation, if two distant friends are brought together, and the cement seems to be weak, he never rests until he finds new appearances to take off all remains of illwill, and that by new misunderstandings they are thoroughly reconciled.

"S.B,

"To MR. SPECTATOR.

"Devonshire, Nov. 14, 1711.

No. 235.] THURSDAY, NOV. 29, 1711.
-Populares
Vicentem strepitus-

HOR., Ars. Poet., v 81. Awes the tumultuous noises of the pit.-ROSCOMMON. THERE is nothing which lies more within the province of a Spectator than public shows and diversions: and as among these there are none which can pretend to vie with those elegant entertainments that are exhibited in our theaters, I think it particularly incumbent on me to take notice of everything that is remarkable in such numerous and refined assemblies.

"There arrived in this neighborhood, two days Ago, one of your gay gentlemen of the town, who being attended at his entry with a servant of his wn, beside a countryman he had taken up for a guide, excited the curiosity of the village to learn whence and what he might be. The countryman (to whom they applied as most easy of access) knew little more than that the gentleman came from London to travel and see fashions, and was, as he heard say, a freethinker.* What religion | It is observed, that of late years there has been that might be, he could not tell and for his own a certain person in the upper gallery of the playpart, if they had not told him the man was a free-house, who, when he is pleased with anything that thinker, he should have guessed, by his way of is acted upon the stage, expresses his approbation talking, he was little better than a heathen; ex- by a loud knock upon the benches or the wainscot, cepting only that he had been a good gentleman which may be heard over the whole theater. This to him, and made him drunk twice in one day person is commonly known by the name of the over and above what they had bargained for. Trunk-maker in the upper gallery." Whether "I do not look upon the simplicity of this, and it be that the blow he gives on these occasions reseveral odd inquiries with which I shall not trou-sembles that which is often heard in the shops of ble you, to be wondered at, much less can I think such artisans, or that he was supposed to have been that our youths of fine wit, and enlarged under- a real trunk-maker, who, after the finishing of his standings, have any reason to laugh. There is no day's work, used to unbend his mind at these necessity that every 'squire in Great Britain should public diversions with his hammer in his hand, I know what the word freethinker stands for; but it cannot certainly tell. There are some, I know, were much to be wished, that they who value them- who have been foolish enough to imagine it is a selves upon that conceited title, were a little better spirit which haunts the upper gallery, and from instructed in what it ought to stand for; and that time to time makes those strange noises; and the they would not persuade themselves a man is really rather, because he is observed to be louder than and truly a freethinker, in any tolerable sense, ordinary every time the ghost of Hamlet appears. merely by virtue of his being an atheist, or an in- Others have reported, that it is a dumb man, who fidel of any other distinction. It may be doubted has chosen this way of uttering himself when he with good reason, whether there ever was in nature is transported with anything he sees or hears. a more abject, slavish, and bigoted generation than Others will have it to be the playhouse thunderer, the tribe of beaux-esprits, at present so prevailing that exerts himself after this manner in the upper in this island. Their pretension to be freethinkers, gallery, when he has nothing to do upon the roof. is no other than rakes have to be free-livers, and savages to be freemen; that is, they can think whatever they have a mind to, and give themselves up to whatever conceit the extravagancy of their inclination or their fancy, shall suggest; they can think as wildly as they talk and act, and will not endure that their wit should be controlled by such formal things as decency and common sense. Deduction, coherence, consistency, and all the rules of reason they accordingly disdain, as too precise and mechanical for men of a liberal education.

"This, as far as I could ever learn from their writings, or my own observation, is a true account of the British freethinker. Our visitant here, who gave occasion to this paper, has brought with him a new system of common sense, the particulars of which I am not yet acquainted with, but will lose no opportunity of informing myself whether it contain anything worth Mr. Spectator's notice. In the meantime, Sir, I cannot but think it would be for the good of mankind, if you would take this subject into your consideration, and convince the hopeful youth of our nation, that licentiousness is not freedom; or, if such a parodox will not be understood, that a prejudice toward atheism is not impartiality.

T.

"I am, Sir, your most humble Servant,
"PHILONOUS."

[blocks in formation]

But having made it my business to get the best information I could in a matter of this moment, I find that the trunk-maker, as he is commonly called, is a large black man whom nobody knows. He generally leans forward on a huge oaken plank with great attention to everything that passes upon the stage. He is never seen to smile; but upon hearing anything that pleases him, he takes up his staff with both hands, and lays it upon the next piece of timber that stands in his way with exceeding vehemence: after which, he composes himself in his former posture, till such time as something new sets him again at work.

It has been observed, his blow is so well-timed, that the most judicious critic could never except against it. As soon as any shining thought is expressed in the poet, or any uncommon grace appears in the actor, he smites the bench or wainscot. If the audience does not concur with him, he smites a second time; and if the audience is not yet awakened, looks around him with great wrath, and repeats the blow a third time, which never fails to produce the clap. He sometimes lets the audience begin the clap of themselves, and at the conclusion of their applause ratifies it with a single thwack.

He is of so great use to the playhouse, that it is said a former director of it, upon his not being able to pay his attendance by reason of sickness, kept one in pay to officiate for him until such time as he recovered; but the person so employed, though he laid about him with incredible violence, did it in such wrong places, that the audience soon found out that it was not their ol friend the trunkmaker.

It has been remarked, that he has not yet exerted himself with vigor this season. He sometimes. plies at the opera; and upon Nicolini's first ap

ity.-C.

appearance was said to have demolished three rightly qualified for this important office, that the benches in the fury of his applause. He has bro- trunk-maker may not be missed by our poster. ken half a dozen oaken planks upon Dogget, and seldom goes away from a tragedy of Shakspeare without leaving the wainscot extremely shattered.

The players do not only connive at his obstreperous approbation, but very cheerfully repair at their own cost whatever damages he makes. They once had a thought of erecting a kind of wooden anvil for his use, that should be made of a very sounding plank, in order to render his strokes more deep and mellow; but as this might not have been distinguished from the music of a kettle-drum, the project was laid aside.

[ocr errors]

No. 236.] FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1711.
-Dare jura maritis.

HOR., Ars. Poet., ver. 398.
With laws connubial tyrants to restrain.
MR. SPECTATOR,

[ocr errors]

You have not spoken in so direct a manuer upon the subject of marriage as that important case deserves. It would not be improper to observe upon the peculiarity in the youth of Great Britain of railing and laughing at that institution: and when they fall into it, from a profligate habit of mind, being insensible of the satisfaction in that way of life, and treating their wives with the most barbarous disrespect.

In the meanwhile, I cannot but take notice of the great use it is to an audience, that a person should thus preside over their heads like the director of a concert, in order to awaken their attention, and beat time to their applauses; or to raise my simile, I have sometimes fancied the trunk- "Particular circumstances, and cast of temper, maker in the upper gallery to be like Virgil's must teach a man the probability of mighty unruler of the winds, seated upon the top of a moun-easinesses in that state (for unquestionably some tain, who, when he struck his scepter upon the there are whose very dispositions are strangely side of it, roused a hurricane, and set the whole averse to conjugal friendship); but no one, I becavern in an uproar.† lieve, is by his own natural complexion prompted It is certain the trunk-maker has saved many a to tease and torment another for no reason but begood play, and brought many a graceful actor ing nearly allied to him. And can there be anyinto reputation, who would not otherwise have thing more base, or serve to sink a man so much been taken notice of. It is very visible, as the below his own distinguishing characteristic (I audience is not a little abashed, if they find them- mean reason), than by returning evil for good in selves betrayed into a clap, when their friend in so open a manner, as that of treating a helpless the upper gallery does not come into it, so the ac- creature with unkindness, who has had so good tors do not value themselves upon the clap, but an opinion of him as to believe what he said reregard it as a mere brutum fulmen, or empty noise, lating to one of the greatest concerns of life, by when it has not the sound of the oaken plant in delivering her happiness in this world to his care it. I know it has been given out by those who and protection? Must not that man be abandonare enemies to the trunk-maker, that he has some-ed even to all manner of humanity, who can detimes been bribed to be in the interest of a bad ceive a woman with appearances of affection and poet, or a vicious player; but this is a surmise kindness, for no other end but to torment her which has no foundation: his strokes are always with more ease and authority? Is anything more just, and his admonitions seasonable: he does not unlike a gentleman, than when his honor is endeal about his blows at random, but always hits gaged for the performing his promises, because nothe right nail upon the head. The inexpressible thing but that can oblige him to it, to become afterforce wherewith he lays them on, sufficiently ward false to his word, and be alone the occasion shows the evidence and strength of his convic- of misery to one whose happiness he but lately tion. His zeal for a good author is indeed outra- pretended was dearer to him than his own? geous, and breaks down every fence and partition, Ought such a one to be trusted in his common every board and plank, that stands within the affairs? or treated but as one whose honesty conexpression of his applause. sisted only in his incapacity of being otherwise?

As I do not care for terminating my thoughts "There is one cause of this usage no less abin barren speculations, or in reports of pure mat- surd than common, which takes place among the ter of fact, without drawing something from more unthinking men; and that is the desire to them for the advantage of my countrymen, I shall appear to their friends free and at liberty, and take the liberty to make an humble proposal, that without those trammels they have so much ridiwhenever the trunk-maker shall depart this life, culed. To avoid this they fly into the other exor whenever he shall have lost the spring of his treme, and grow tyrants that they may seem masarm by sickness, old age, infirmity, or the like, ters. Because an uncontrollable command of some able-bodied critic should be advanced to their own actions is a certain sign of entire dothis post, and have a competent salary settled minion, they wont so much as recede from the on him for life, to be furnished with bamboos for government even in one muscle of their faces. operas, crabtree cudjels for comedies, and oaken A kind look they believe would be fawning, and plants for tragedy, at the public expense. And a civil answer yielding the superiority. To this to the end that this place should be always dis- must we attribute an austerity they betray in eve posed of according to merit, I would have none ry action. What but this can put a man out of preferred to it, who has not given convincing humor in his wife's company, though he is so disproofs both of a sound judgment, and a strong tinguishingly pleasant everywhere else? The arm; and who could not, upon occasion, either bitterness of his replies, and the severity of his knock down an ox, or write a comment upon Ho- frowns to the tenderest of wives, clearly demonrace's Art of Poetry. In short, I would have him strate, that an ill-grounded fear of being thought a due composition of Hercules and Apollo, and so too submissive, is at the bottom of this, as I am willing to call it, affected moroseness; but if it be such, only put on to convince his acquaintance of his entire dominion, let him take care of the consequence, which will be certain and worse than the present evil; his seeming indifference will by degrees grow into real contempt, and it it doth

*Thomas Dogget, an excellent comic actor, who was for many years joint manager of the play-house with Wilkes and Colley Cibber, of whom the reader may find a particular account in Cibber's Apology for his own Life.

† Eneid, i, 85.

not wholly alienate the affections of his wife forever from him, make both him and her more miserable than if it really did so.

66

However inconsistent it may appear, to be thought a well-bred person has no small share in this clownish behavior. A discourse therefore relating to good breeding toward a loving and tender wife, would be of great use to this sort of gentlemen. Could you but once convince them, that to be civil at least is not beneath the character of a gentleman, nor even tender affection toward one who would make it reciprocal, betrays any softness or effeminacy that the most masculine disposition need be ashamed of; could you satisfy them of the generosity of voluntary civility, and the greatness of soul that is conspicuous in benevolence without immediate obligations; could you recommend to people's practice the saying of the gentleman quoted in one of your speculations, that he thought it incumbent upon him to make the inclinations of a woman of merit go along with her duty;' could you, I say, persuade these men of the beauty and reasonableness of this sort of behavior, I have so much charity, for some of them at least, to believe you would convince them of a thing they are only ashamed to allow. Beside, you would recommend that state in its truest, and consequently its most agreeable colors; and the gentlemen, who have for any time been such professed enemies to it, when occasion should serve, would return you their thanks for assisting their interest in prevailing over their prejudices. Marriage in general would by this means be a more easy and comfortable condition; the husband would be nowhere so well satisfied as in his own parlor, nor the wife so pleasant as A desire of bein the company of her husband. ing agreeable in the lover would be increased in the husband, and the mistress be more amiable by becoming the wife. Beside all which, I am apt to believe we should find the race of men grow wiser as their progenitors grew kinder, and the affection of their parents would be conspicuous in the wisdom of their children; in short, men would in general be much better humored than they are, did they not so frequently exercise the worst turns of their temper where they ought to exert the

best."

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"I am a woman who left the admiration of this whole town to throw myself (for love of wealth) into the arms of a fool. When I married him, I could have had any one of several men of sense who languished for me; but my case is just. I believed my superior understanding would form him into a tractable creature. But, alas! my spouse has cunning and suspicion, the inseparable companions of little minds; and every attempt I make to divert, by putting on an agreeable air, a sudden cheerfulness, or kind behavior, he looks upon as the first act toward an insurrection against his undeserved dominion over me. every one who is still to choose, and hopes to vern a fool, remember

[merged small][ocr errors]

"TRISTISSA."

Let

go

St. Martin's, Nov. 25. This is to complain of an evil practice which I think very well deserves a redress, though you have not as yet taken any notice of it; if you mention it in your paper, it may perhaps have a very good effect. What I mean is, the disturbance some people give to others at church, by their repetition of the prayers after the minister; and that not only in the prayers, but also in the absolution; and the commandments fare no better,

which are in a particular manner the priest's of-
fice: this I have known done in so audible a man-
ner, that sometimes their voices have been as loud
As little as you would think it, this is
as his.
frequently done by people seemingly devout.
This irreligious inadvertency is a thing extremely
offensive: but I do not recommend it as a thing I
give you liberty to ridicule, but hope it may be
amended by the bare mention.

T.

[ocr errors]

'Sir, your very humble Servant,

"T.S."

No. 237.] SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1711
Visu carentem magna pars veri latet.

SENECA, in Edip.
They that are dim of sight see truth by halves.
Ir is very reasonable to believe, that part of the
pleasure which happy minds shall enjoy in a fu-
ture state, will arise from an enlarged contempla-
tion of the Divine Wisdom in the government of
the world, and a discovering of the secret and
amazing steps of Providence, from the beginning
to the end of time. Nothing seems to be an en-
tertainment more adapted to the nature of man, if
we consider that curiosity is one of the strongest
and most lasting appetites implanted in us, and
that admiration is one of our most pleasing pas-
sions; and what a perpetual succession of enjoy.
ments will be afforded to both these, in a scene so
large and various as shall then be laid open to our
view in the society of superior spirits, who per-
haps will join with us in so delightful a prospect.

It is not impossible, on the contrary, that part of the punishment of such as are excluded from bliss, may consist not only in their being denied this privilege, but in having their appetites at the same time vastly increased without any satisfaction afforded to them. In these, the vain pursuit of knowledge shall, perhaps, add to their infelicity, and bewilder them into labyrinths of error, darkness, distraction, and uncertainty of every. thing but their own evil state. Milton has thus represented the fallen angels reasoning together in a kind of respite from their torments, and creating to themselves a new disquiet amidst their very amusements: he could not properly have described the sport of condemned spirits, without that cast of horror and melancholy he has so judiciously mingled with them!

Others apart sat on a hill retir'd,

In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high
Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,
Fix'd fate, freewill, foreknowledge absolute,

And found no end in wandering mazes lost.*
In our present condition, which is a middle
state, our minds are as it were checkered with
truth and falsehood: and as our faculties are nar-
row, and our views imperfect, it is impossible but
our curiosity must meet with many repulses. The
business of mankind in this life being rather to
act than to know, their portion of knowledge is
dealt to them accordingly.

From hence it is, that the reason of the inquisitive has so long been exercised with difficulties, in accounting for the promiscuous distribution of good and evil to the virtuous and the wicked in this world. From hence come all those pathetic complaints of so many tragical events which happen to the wise and the good; and of such surprising prosperity, which is often the lott of the guilty and the foolish; that reason is sometimes puzzled, and at a loss what to pronounce upon so mysterious a dispensation.

*Parad. Lost, b. ii, v. 557.
Spect., in folio, for reward, etc.

Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, which seem to reflect on the gods as the authors of injustice; and lays it down as a principle, that whatever is permitted to befall a Just man, whether poverty, sickness, or any of those things which seem to be evils, shall either in life or death conduce to his good. My reader will observe how agreeable this maxim is to what we find delivered by greater authority. Seneca has written a discourse purposely on this subject in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the Stoics, to show that adversity is not in itself an evil: and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, that "nothing would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction.' He compares prosperity to the indulgence of a fond mother to a child, which often proves his ruin; but the affection of the Divine Being to that of a wise father, who would have his sons exercised with labor, disappointments, and pain, that they may gather strength and improve their fortitude. On this occasion, the philosopher rises into that celebrated sentiment, that there is not on earth a spectacle more worthy the regard of a Creator intent on his works, than a brave man superior to his sufferings: to which he adds, that it must be a pleasure to Jupiter himself to look down from heaven, and see Cato amidst the ruins of his country preserving his integrity.

This thought will appear yet more reasonable, if we consider human life as a state of probation, and adversity as the post of honor in it, assigned often to the best and most select spirits.

But what I would chiefly insist on here is, that we are not at present in a proper situation to judge of the councils by which Providence acts, since but little arrives at our knowledge, and even that little we discern imperfectly; or according to the elegant figure in holy writ, "we see but in part, and as in a glass darkly."+ It is to be considered that Providence in its economy regards the whole system of time and things together, so that we cannot discover the beautiful connection between incidents which lie widely separate in time; and by losing so many links of the chain, our reasonings become broken and imperfect. Thus those parts of the moral world which have not an absolute, may yet have a relative beauty, in respect of some other parts concealed from us, but open to his eye before whom "past," "present," and "to come," are set together in one point of view: and those events, the permission of which seems now to accuse his goodness, may in the consummation of things both magnify his goodness, and exalt his wisdom. And this is enough to check our presumption, since it is in vain to apply our measures of regularity to matters of which we know neither the antecedents nor the consequents, the beginning nor the end.

I shall relieve my readers from this abstracted thought, by relating here a Jewish tradition concerning Moses, which seems to be a kind of parable, illustrating what I have last mentioned. That great prophet, it is said, was called up by a voice from heaven to the top of a mountain; where, in a conference with the Supreme Being, he was admitted to propose to him some questions concerning his administration of the universe. In the midst of this divine colloquy he was commanded to look down on the plain below. At the foot of the mountain there issued out a clear spring of water, at which a soldier alighted from his horse to drink. He was no sooner gone than a little boy

Vid. Senec. "De constantia sapientis, sive quod in sapi

entem non cadit injuria."

+1 Cor., xiii, 12

[ocr errors]

came to the same place, and finding a purse of gold which the soldier had dropped, took it up and went away with it. Immediately after this came an infirm old man, weary with age and tra veling, and having quenched his thirst sat down to rest himself by the side of the spring. The soldier, missing his purse, returns to search for it, and demanded it, of the old man, who affirms he had not seen it, and appeals to Heaven in witness of his innocence. The soldier, not believing his protestations, kills him. Moses fell on his face with horror and amazement, when the Divine voice thus prevented his expostulation: "Be not surprised, Moses, nor ask why the Judge of the whole earth has suffered this thing to come to pass. The child is the occasion that the blood of the old man is spilt; but know that the old man whom thou sawest was the murderer of that child's father."

[blocks in formation]

AMONG all the diseases of the mind, there is not one more epidemical or more pernicious than the love of flattery. For as where the juices of the body are prepared to receive the malignant influ ence, there the disease rages with most violence; so in this distemper of the mind, where there is ever a propensity and inclination to suck in the poison, it cannot be but that the whole order of reasonable action must be overturned; for, like music, it

-So softens and disarms the mind
That not one arrow can resistance find.

First, we flatter ourselves, and then the flattery of others is sure of success. It awakens our selflove within, a party which is ever ready to revolt from our better judgment, and join the enemy without. Hence it is, that the profusion of favors we so often see poured upon the parasite, are represented to us by our self-love, as justice done to the man who so agreeably reconciled us to ourselves. When we are overcome by such soft insinuations and ensnaring compliances, we gladly recompense the artifices that are made use of to blind our reason, and which triumph over the weaknesses of our temper and inclination.

But were every man persuaded from how mean and low a principle this passion is derived, there can be no doubt that the person who should attempt to gratify it, would then be as contemptible as he is now successful. It is the desire of some quality we are not possessed of, or inclination to be something we are not, which are the causes of our giving ourselves up to that man who bestows upon us the characters and qualities of others; which perhaps suit us as ill, and were as little designed for our wearing, as their clothes. Instead of going out of our own complexional nature into that of others, it were a better and more laudable industry to improve our own, and instead of a miserable copy become a good original; for there is no temper, no disposition, so rude and untractable, but may in its own peculiar cast and turn be brought to some agreeable use in conversation, or in the affairs of life. A person of a rougher deportment, and less tied up to the usual ceremonies of behavior, will, like Manly 1. the play, please

*Wycherley's comedy of the Plain Dealer.

« VorigeDoorgaan »