Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

There is not a more melancholy object than a man who has his head turned with a religious enthusiasm. A person that is crazed, though with pride or malice, is a sight very mortifying to human nature; but when the distemper arises from any indiscreet fervours of devotion, or too intense an application of the mind to its mistaken duties, it deserves our compassion in a more particular manner. We may however learn this lesson from it, that since devotion itself (which one would be apt to think could not be too warm) may disorder the mind, unless its heats are tempered with caution and prudence, we should be particularly careful to keep our reason as cool as possible, and to guard ourselves in all parts of life against the influence of passion, imagination, and constitution.

Devotion, when it does not lie under the check of reason, is very apt to degenerate into enthusiasm. When the mind finds herself very much inflamed with her devotions, she is too much inclined to think they are not of her own kindling, but blown up by something divine within her. If she indulges this thought too far, and humours the growing passion, she at last flings herself into imaginary raptures and ecstacies; and when once she fancies herself under the influence of a divine impulse, it is no wonder if she slights human ordinances, and refuses to comply with any established form of religion, as thinking herself directed by a much superior guide.

part of public devotions were performed with a mitre on his head, and a crosier in his hand. To this a brother Vandal, as wise as the others, adds an antic dress, which he conceived would allude very aptly to such and such mysteries, till by degrees the whole office was degenerated into an empty show.

Their successors see the vanity and inconvenience of these ceremonies; but instead of reforming, perhaps add others, which they think more significant, and which take possession in the same manner, and are never to be driven out after they have been once admitted. I have seen the pope officiate at St. Peter's, where, for two hours together, he was busied in putting on or off his different accoutrements, according to the different parts he was to act in them.

Nothing is so glorious in the eyes of mankind, and ornamental to human nature, setting aside the infinite advantages which arise from it, as a strong, steady, masculine piety; but enthusiasm and superstition are the weaknesses of human reason, that expose us to the scorn and derision of infidels, and sink us even below the beasts that perish.

Idolatry may be looked upon as another error arising from mistaken devotion; but because reflections on that subject would be of no use to an English reader, I shall not enlarge upon it.

As enthusiasm is a kind of excess in devotion, superstition is the excess, not only No. 202.] Monday, October 22, 1711.

of devotion, but of religion in general, according to an old heathen saying, quoted by Aulus Gellius, Religentem esse oportet, religiosum nefas;' A man should be religious, not superstitious.' For as the author tells us, Nigidius observed upon this passage, that the Latin words which terminate in osus generally imply vicious characters, and the having of any quality to an

excess.

An enthusiast in religion is like an obstinate clown, a superstitious man like an insipid courtier. Enthusiasm has something in it of madness, superstition of folly. Most of the sects that fall short of the church of England have in them strong tinctures of enthusiasm, as the Roman Catholic religion is one huge overgrown body of childish | and idle superstitions.

Sæpe decem vitiis instructior, odit et horret.

L.

Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xviii. 25. Tho' ten times worse themselves, you'll frequent view, Those who with keenest rage will censure you.-P.

THE other day as I passed along the street, I saw a sturdy 'prentice-boy disputing with a hackney-coachman; and in an instant, upon some word of provocation, throw off his hat and periwig, clench his fist, and strike the fellow a slap on the face; at the same time calling him a rascal, and telling him he was a gentleman's son. The young gentleman was, it seems, bound to a blacksmith; and the debate arose about payment for some work done about a coach, near which they fought. His master, during the combat, was full of his boy's praises; and as he called to him to play with his The Roman Catholic church seems ir-hand and foot, and throw in his head, he recoverably lost in this particular. If an absurd dress or behaviour be introduced in the world, it will soon be found out and discarded. On the contrary, a habit or ceremony, though never so ridiculous, which has taken sanctuary in the church, sticks in it for ever. A Gothic bishop, perhaps, thought it proper to repeat such a form in such particular shoes or slippers; another fancied it would be very decent if such a

Noctes Atticæ, lib. iv. cap. 9.

made all us who stood round him of his party, by declaring the boy had very good friends, and he could trust him with untold gold. As I am generally in the theory of mankind, I could not but make my reflections upon the sudden popularity which was raised about the lad; and perhaps with my friend Tacitus, fell into observations upon it, which were too great for the occasion: or ascribed this general favour to causes which had nothing to do towards it. But the young blacksmith's being a gentle

man was, methought, what created him | following letters and petition are made up good-will from his present equality with of proper sentiments on this occasion. the mob about him. Add to this, that he was not so much a gentleman, as not, at the same time that he called himself such, to use as rough methods for his defence as his antagonist. The advantage of his having good friends, as his master expressed it, was not lazily urged; but he showed himself superior to the coachman in the personal qualities of courage and activity, to confirm that of his being well allied, before his birth was of any service to him.

MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a servant to an old lady who is governed by one she calls her friend; who is so familiar an one, that she takes upon her to advise her without being called to it, and makes her uneasy with all about her. Pray, sir, be pleased to give us some remarks upon voluntary counsellors; and let these people know that to give any body advice, is to say to that person, "I am your betters." Pray, sir, If one might moralize from this silly as near as you can, describe that eternal story, a man would say, that whatever ad- flirt and disturber of families, Mrs. Tapervantages of fortune, birth, or any other ty, who is always visiting, and putting peogood, people possess above the rest of the ple in a way as they call it. If you can make world, they should show collateral emi-her stay at home one evening, you will be a nences besides those distinctions; or those general benefactor to all the ladies' women distinctions will avail only to keep up com- in town, and particularly to your loving mon decencies and ceremonies, and not to friend, SUSAN CIVIL.' preserve a real place of favour or esteem in the opinion and common sense of their fellow creatures.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a footman, and live with one of those men, each of whom

said to be one of the best humoured men in the world, but that he is passionate. Pray be pleased to inform them, that he who is passionate, and takes no care to command his hastiness, does more injury to his friends and servants in one half hour, than whole years can atone for. This master of mine, who is the best man alive in common fame, disobliges somebody every day he lives: and strikes me for the next thing I do, because he is out of humour at it. If these gentlemen knew that they do all the mischief that is ever done in conversation, they would reform; and I who have been a spectator of gentlemen at dinner for many years, have seen that indiscretion does ten times more mischief than ill-nature. But you will represent this better than your abused humble servant,

The folly of people's procedure, imagin-is ing that nothing more is necessary than property and superior circumstances to support them in distinction, appears in no way so much as in the domestic part of life. It is ordinary to feed their humours into unnatural excrescences, if I may so speak, and make their whole being a wayward and uneasy condition, for want of the obvious reflection, that all parts of human life is a commerce. It is not only paying wages, and giving commands, that constitutes a master of a family; but prudence, equal behaviour, with readiness to protect and cherish them, is what entitles a man to that character in their very hearts and sentiments. It is pleasant enough to observe, that men expect from their dependants, from their sole motive of fear, all the good effects which a liberal education, and affluent fortune, and every other advantage, cannot produce in themselves. A man will have his servant just, diligent, sober, and

chaste, for no other reasons but the terror of losing his master's favour, when all the laws divine and human cannot keep him whom he serves within bounds, with relation to any one of those virtues. But both in great and ordinary affairs, all superiority which is not founded on merit and virtue, is supported only by artifice and stratagem. Thus you see flatterers are the agents in families of humourists, and those who govern themselves by any thing but reason. Make-bates, distant relations, poor kinsmen, and indigent followers, are the fry which support the economy of an humoursome rich man. He is eternally whispered with intelligence of who are true or false to him in matters of no consequence, and he maintains twenty friends to defend him against the insinuations of one who would perhaps cheat him of an old coat.

I shall not enter into farther speculation upon this subject at present, but think the|

"THOMAS SMOKY.'

To the Spectator.

The humble Petition of JOHN STEWARD, ROBERT BUTLER, HARRY COOK, and ABIGAIL CHAMBERS, in behalf of themselves and their relations belonging to and dispersed in the several services of most of the great families within the cities of London and Westminster;

'Showeth,

'That in many of the families in which your petitioners live and are employed, the several heads of them are wholly unacquainted with what is business, and are very little judges when they are well or ill used by us your said petitioners.

That for want of such skill in their own affairs; and by indulgence of their own laziness and pride, they continually keep about them certain mischievous animals called spies.

"That whenever a spy is entertained, the peace of that house is from that moment banished.

That spies never give an account of

good services, but represent our mirth and freedom by the words wantonness and disorder.

That in all families where there are spies, there is a general jealousy and misunderstanding.

That the masters and mistresses of such houses live in continual suspicion of their ingenuous and true servants, and are given up to the management of those who are false and perfidious.

That such masters and mistresses who entertain spies, are no longer more than cyphers in their own families; and that we your petitioners are with great disdain obliged to pay all our respect, and expect all our maintenance from such spies.

Your petitioners therefore most hum-
bly pray, that you would represent the
premises to all persons of condition; and
your petitioners, as in duty bound, shall
for ever pray,' &c.
T.

No. 203.] Tuesday, October 23, 1711.
Phoebe pater, si das hujus mihi nominis usum
Nec falsa Clymene culpam sub imagine celat;
Pignora da, genitor-
Ovid. Met. ii. 38.

Illustrious parent! if I yet may claim
The name of son, O rescue me from shame;
My mother's truth confirm; all doubt remove,
By tender pledges of a father's love.

THERE is a loose tribe of men whom I have not yet taken notice of, that ramble into all the corners of this great city, in order to seduce such unfortunate females as fall into their walks. These abandoned profligates raise up issue in every quarter of the town, and very often, for a valuable consideration, father it upon the churchwarden. By this means there are several married men who have a little family in most of the parishes of London and Westminster, and several bachelors who are undone by a charge of children.

the genealogies of great families were often drawn up in the shape of trees, had taken a fancy to dispose of his own illegitimate issue in a figure of the same kind:

-Nec longum tempus et ingens Exiit ad cœlum ramis felicibus arbos, Miraturque novas frondes, et non sua poma. Virg. Georg. ii. 80. And in short space the laden boughs arise, With happy fruit advancing to the skies; The mother plant admires the leaves unknown Of alien trees, and apples not her own.-Dryden. The trunk of the tree was marked with his own name, Will Maple. Out of the side of it grew a large barren branch, inscribed Mary Maple, the name of his unhappy wife. The head was adorned with five huge boughs. On the bottom of the first was written in capital characters Kate Cole, who branched out into three sprigs, viz. William, Richard, and Rebecca. Sal Twiford gave birth to another bough, that shot up into Sarah, Tom, Will, and Frank. The third arm of the tree had only a single infant on it, with a space left for a second; the parent from whom it sprung being near her time when the author took this ingenious device into his head. The two other great boughs were very plentifully loaden with fruit of the same kind; besides which there were many ornamental branches that did not bear. In short, a more flourishing tree never came out of the herald's office.

What makes this generation of vermin so very prolific, is the indefatigable diligence with which they apply themselves to their business. A man does not undergo more watchings and fatigues in a campaign, than in the course of a vicious amour. As it is said of some men, that they make their business their pleasure, these sons of darkness may be said to make their pleasure their business. They might conquer their corrupt inclinations with half the pains they are at in gratifying them.

[ocr errors]

Nor is the invention of these men less to be admired than their industry and vigilance. There is a fragment of Apollodorus the comic poet (who was contemporary with Menander) which is full of humour, as follows: Thou mayest shut up thy doors,' says he, with bars and bolts. It will be impossible for the blacksmith to make them so fast, but a cat and a whoremaster will find a way through them.' In a word, there is no head so full of stratagems as that of a libidinous man.

When a man once gives himself this liberty of preying at large, and living upon the common, he finds so much game in a populous city, that it is surprising to consider the numbers which he sometimes propagates. We see many a young fellow who is scarce of age, that could lay his claim to the jus trium liberorum, or the privileges which were granted by the Roman laws, to all such as were fathers of three children. Nay, I have heard a rake, who was not quite five-and-twenty, declare himself the father of a seventh son, and very prudently determine to breed him up a physician. In short, the town is full of these young patriarchs, not to mention several battered beaux, who like heedless spendthrifts that squander away their estates before they are masters of them, have raised up their whole stock of chil-plant men.' Some countries punish this dren before marriage.

I must not here omit the particular whim of an impudent libertine, that had a little smattering of heraldry; and observing how

Were I to propose a punishment for this infamous race of propagators, it should be to send them, after the second or third offence, into our American colonies, in order to people those parts of her majesty's dominions where there is a want of inhabitants, and, in the phrase of Diogenes, to

crime with death; but I think such a banishment would be sufficient, and might turn this generative faculty to the advantage of the public.

In the mean time, until these gentlemen | tinual anxiety for my future fortune, and may be thus disposed of, I would earnestly under a great unhappiness in losing the exhort them to take care of those unfortu- sweet conversation and friendly advice of nate creatures whom they have brought my parents; so that I cannot look upon myinto the world by these indirect methods, self otherwise than as a monster, strangely and to give their spurious children such an sprung up in nature, which every one is education as may render them more virtu- ashamed to own. ous than their parents. This is the best atonement they can make for their own crimes, and indeed the only method that is left them to repair their past miscarriages. I would likewise desire them to consider, whether they are not bound in common humanity, as well as by all the obligations of religion and nature, to make some provision for those whom they have not only given life to, but entailed upon them, though very unreasonably, a degree of shame and disgrace. And here I cannot but take notice of those depraved notions which prevail among us, and which must have taken rise from our natural inclination to favour a vice to which we are so very prone, namely, that bastardy and cuckoldom should be looked upon as reproaches; and that the ignominy which is only due to lewdness No. 204.] Wednesday, October 24, 1711.

and falsehood, should fall in so unreasonable a manner upon the persons who are innocent.

I have been insensibly drawn into this discourse by the following letter, which is drawn up with such a spirit of sincerity, that I question not but the writer of it has represented his case in a true and genuine light.

'SIR,-I am one of those people who by the general opinion of the world are counted both infamous and unhappy.

'My father is a very eminent man in this kingdom, and one who bears considerable offices in it. I am his son, but my misfortune is, that I dare not call him father, nor he without shame own me as his issue, I being illegitimate, and therefore deprived of that endearing tenderness and unparalleled satisfaction which a good man finds in the love and conversation of a parent. Neither have I the opportunities to render him the duties of a son, he having always carried himself at so vast a distance, and with such superiority towards me, that by long use I have contracted a timorousness when before him, which hinders me from declaring my own necessities, and giving him to understand the inconveniences I undergo.

'I am thought to be a man of some natural parts, and by the continual reading what you have offered the world, become an admirer thereof, which has drawn me to make this confession; at the same time hoping, if any thing herein shall touch you with a sense of pity, you would then allow me the favour of your opinion thereupon; as also what part I, being unlawfully born, may claim of the man's affection who begot me, and how far in your opinion I am to be thought his son, or he acknowledged as my father. Your sentiments and advice herein will be a great consolation and satisfaction to, sir, your admirer, &c. C.

Urit grata protervitas,

Et vultus nimiu:n lubricus aspici.

'W. B.'

Hor. Lib. 1. Od. xix. 7.
Her face too dazzling for the sight,
Her winning coyness fires my soul,
I feel a strange delight.

I AM not at all displeased that I am become the courier of love, and that the distressed in that passion convey their complaints to each other by my means. The following letters have lately come to my hands, and shall have their place with great willingness. As to the reader's entertainment, he will, I hope, forgive the inserting such particulars as to him may perhaps seem frivolous, but are to the persons who wrote them of the highest consequence. I shall not trouble you with the prefaces, compliments, and apologies made to me before each epistle when it was desired to be inserted; but in general they tell me, that the persons to whom they are addressed have intimations, by phrases and allusions in them, from whence they

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

"The Portuguese word Saudades (here inaccurately

*The following is Mr. Chalmers's excellent definition It is my misfortune to have been neither of the meaning of this significant word. bred a scholar, a soldier, nor to any kind of written Sothades) signifies the most refined, most tenDusiness, which renders me entirely inca-der and ardent desires for something absent, accompa pable of making provision for myself with- nied with a solicitude and anxious regard, which canout his assistance; and this creates a con-Saudade, say the dictionaries, significa, Finissimo not be expressed by one word in any other language. tinual uneasiness in my mind, fearing I shall sentimiento del bien ansente, com desco de posseerlo. in time want bread; my father, if I may so Hence, the word Sandades comprehends every good call him, giving me but very faint assur- compliment that can be paid to another. So, if a perances of doing any thing for me.

'I have hitherto lived somewhat like a gentleman, and it would be very hard for me to labour for my living. I am in con

wish and Muitas Sausades is the highest wish and son is observed to be melancholy, and is asked 'What ails him? if he answers, Tenho Sausades, it is understood to mean, I am under the most refined torment for the absence of my love; or from being absent from my country,' &c."

am sure you should never have known but by inadvertency, what my eyes said was true. But it is too soon to confirm it with my hand, therefore shall not subscribe my name.'

'SIR,-There were other gentlemen under to take up that flippant creature's nearer, and I know no necessity you were fan, last night; but you shall never touch a stick of mine more, that's pos.

PHILLIS,'

To Colonel R―s in Spain.

lively image of the tender regard I have for | Since you have the secret at last, which I you. The Spectator's late letter from Statira gave me the hint to use the same method of explaining myself to you. I am not affronted at the design your late behaviour discovered you had in your addresses to me; but I impute it to the degeneracy of the age, rather than your particular fault. As I aim at nothing more than being yours, I am willing to be a stranger to your name, your fortune, or any figure which your wife might expect to make in the world, provided my commerce with you is not to be a guilty one. I resign gay dress, the pleasures of visits, equipage, plays, balls, and operas, for that one satisfaction of having you for ever mine. I am willing you shall industriously conceal the only cause of triumph which I can know in this life. I wish only to have it my duty, as well as my inclination, to study your happiness. If this has not the effect this letter seems to aim at, you are to understand that I had a mind to be rid of you, and took the readiest way to pall you with an offer of what you would never desist pursuing while you received ill usage. Be a true man; be my slave while you doubt me, and neglect me when you think I love you. I defy you to find out what is your present circumstance with me; but I know while I can keep this suspense, I am your admired, BELINDA.'

a

'Before this can reach the best of husbands and the fondest lover, those tender names will be of no more concern to me. The indisposition in which you, to obey the dictates of your honour and duty, left me, has increased upon me; and I am acquainted by my physicians I cannot live a week longer. At this time my spirits fail me; and it is the ardent love I have for you that carries me beyond my strength, and enables me to tell you, the most painful thing in the prospect of death is, that I must part with you. But let it be a comfort to you, that I have no guilt hangs upon me, no unrepented folly that retards me; but I pass away my last hours in reflection upon the happiness we have lived in together, and in sorrow that it is so soon to have an end. 'MADAM,-It is a strange state of mind This is a frailty which I hope is so far from man is in, when the very imperfections of a criminal, that methinks there is a kind of woman he loves turns into excellences and piety in being so unwilling to be separated advantages. I do assure you, I am very from a state which is the institution of heamuch afraid of venturing upon you. I now ven, and in which we have lived according like you in spite of my reason, and think it to its laws. As we know no more of the an ill circumstance to owe one's happiness next life, but that it will be an happy one to nothing but infatuation. I can see you why may we not please ourselves at least to the good, and miserable to the wicked, ogle all the young fellows who look at you, to alleviate the difficulty of resigning this and observe your eye wander after new conquests every moment you are in a pub-being, in imagining that we shall have a lic place; and yet there is such a beauty in sense of what passes below, and may possiall your looks and gestures, that I cannot bly be employed in guiding the steps of but admire you in the very act of endea- those with whom we walked with innovouring to gain the hearts of others. My cence when mortal? Why may not I hope condition is the same with that of the lover to go on in my usual work, and, though unin the Way of the World. I have studied known to you, be assistant in all the conGive me leave to say your faults so long, that they are become as flicts of your mind? familiar to me, and I like them as well as I to you, O best of men, that I cannot figure do my own. Look to it, madam, and con- to myself a greater happiness than in such sider whether you think this gay behaviour an employment. To be present at all the will appear to me as amiable when an hus-adventures to which human life is exposed, band, as it does now to me a lover. Things to administer slumber to thy eyelids in the are so far advanced, that we must proceed; agonies of a fever, to cover thy beloved and I hope you will lay to heart, that it will face in the day of battle, to go with thee a be becoming in me to appear still your guardian angel incapable of wound or pain, lover, but not in you to be still my mistress. where I have longed to attend thee when a Gaiety in the matrimonial life is graceful weak, a fearful woman: these, my dear, in one sex, but exceptionable in the other. are the thoughts with which I warm my As you improve these little hints, you will poor languid heart. But indeed I am not ascertain the happiness or uneasiness of, capable, under my present weakness, of madam, your most obedient, most humble bearing the strong agonies of mind I fall servant, into, when I form to myself the grief you will be in, upon your first hearing of my departure. I will not dwell upon this, because your kind and generous heart will be but the more afflicted, the more the person

T. D.'

'SIR,-When I sat at the window, and you at the other end of the room by my cousin, I saw you catch me looking at you.

« AnteriorContinuar »