C.

[Footnote 1: A reference to the Spectator's voyage to Grand Cairo mentioned in No. 1.]

[Footnote 2: "these Fruits, in their present State, as well as our"]

[Footnote 3: that]

* * * * *

No. 70. Monday, May 21, 1711. Addison.

'Interdum vulgus rectum videt.'

Hor.

When I travelled, I took a particular Delight in hearing the Songs and Fables that are come from Father to Son, and are most in Vogue among the common People of the Countries through which I passed; for it is impossible that any thing should be universally tasted and approved by a Multitude, tho' they are only the Rabble of a Nation, which hath not in it some peculiar Aptness to please and gratify the Mind of Man. Human Nature is the same in all reasonable Creatures; and whatever falls in with it, will meet with Admirers amongst Readers of all Qualities and Conditions. _Molière_, as we are told by Monsieur _Boileau_, used to read all his Comedies to [an [1]] old Woman [who [2]] was his Housekeeper, as she sat with him at her Work by the Chimney-Corner; and could foretel the Success of his Play in the Theatre, from the Reception it met at his Fire-side: For he tells us the Audience always followed the old Woman, and never failed to laugh in the same Place. [3]

I know nothing which more shews the essential and inherent Perfection of Simplicity of Thought, above that which I call the Gothick Manner in Writing, than this, that the first pleases all Kinds of Palates, and the latter only such as have formed to themselves a wrong artificial Taste upon little fanciful Authors and Writers of Epigram. _Homer_, _Virgil_, or _Milton_, so far as the Language of their Poems is understood, will please a Reader of plain common Sense, who would neither relish nor comprehend an Epigram of _Martial_, or a Poem of _Cowley_: So, on the contrary, an ordinary Song or Ballad that is the Delight of the common People, cannot fail to please all such Readers as are not unqualified for the Entertainment by their Affectation or Ignorance; and the Reason is plain, because the same Paintings of Nature which recommend it to the most ordinary Reader, will appear Beautiful to the most refined.

The old Song of _Chevey Chase_ is the favourite Ballad of the common People of _England_; and _Ben Johnson_ used to say he had rather have been the Author of it than of all his Works. Sir _Philip Sidney_ in his 'Discourse of Poetry' [4] speaks of it in the following Words;

_I never heard the old Song of_ Piercy _and_ Douglas, _that I found not my Heart more moved than with a Trumpet; and yet it is sung by some blind Crowder with no rougher Voice than rude Stile; which being so evil apparelled in the Dust and Cobweb of that uncivil Age, what would it work trimmed in the gorgeous Eloquence of_ Pindar?

For my own part I am so professed an Admirer of this antiquated Song, that I shall give my Reader a Critick upon it, without any further Apology for so doing.

The greatest Modern Criticks have laid it down as a Rule, that an Heroick Poem should be founded upon some important Precept of Morality, adapted to the Constitution of the Country in which the Poet writes. _Homer_ and _Virgil_ have formed their Plans in this View. As _Greece_ was a Collection of many Governments, who suffered very much among themselves, and gave the _Persian_ Emperor, who was their common Enemy, many Advantages over them by their mutual Jealousies and Animosities, _Homer_, in order to establish among them an Union, which was so necessary for their Safety, grounds his Poem upon the Discords of the several _Grecian_ Princes who were engaged in a Confederacy against an _Asiatick_ Prince, and the several Advantages which the Enemy gained by such their Discords. At the Time the Poem we are now treating of was written, the Dissentions of the Barons, who were then so many petty Princes, ran very high, whether they quarrelled among themselves, or with their Neighbours, and produced unspeakable Calamities to the Country: [5] The Poet, to deter Men from such unnatural Contentions, describes a bloody Battle and dreadful Scene of Death, occasioned by the mutual Feuds which reigned in the Families of an _English_ and _Scotch_ Nobleman: That he designed this for the Instruction of his Poem, we may learn from his four last Lines, in which, after the Example of the modern Tragedians, he draws from it a Precept for the Benefit of his Readers.

_God save the King, and bless the Land In Plenty, Joy, and Peace; And grant henceforth that foul Debate 'Twixt Noblemen may cease._

The next Point observed by the greatest Heroic Poets, hath been to celebrate Persons and Actions which do Honour to their Country: Thus _Virgil's_ Hero was the Founder of _Rome_, _Homer's_ a Prince of _Greece_; and for this Reason _Valerius Flaccus_ and _Statius_, who were both _Romans_, might be justly derided for having chosen the Expedition of the _Golden Fleece_, and the _Wars of Thebes_ for the Subjects of their Epic Writings.

The Poet before us has not only found out an Hero in his own Country, but raises the Reputation of it by several beautiful Incidents. The _English_ are the first [who [6]] take the Field, and the last [who [7]] quit it. The _English_ bring only Fifteen hundred to the Battle, the _Scotch_ Two thousand. The _English_ keep the Field with Fifty three: The _Scotch_ retire with Fifty five: All the rest on each side being slain in Battle. But the most remarkable Circumstance of this kind, is the different Manner in which the _Scotch_ and _English_ Kings [receive [8]] the News of this Fight, and of the great Men's Deaths who commanded in it.

_This News was brought to_ Edinburgh, _Where_ Scotland's _King did reign, That brave Earl_ Douglas _suddenly Was with an Arrow slain.

O heavy News, King James did say,_ Scotland _can Witness be, I have not any Captain more Of such Account as he.

Like Tydings to King_ Henry _came Within as short a Space, That_ Piercy _of_ Northumberland _Was slain in_ Chevy-Chase.

_Now God be with him, said our King, Sith 'twill no better be, I trust I have within my Realm Five hundred as good as he.

Yet shall not_ Scot _nor_ Scotland _say But I will Vengeance take, And be revenged on them all For brave Lord_ Piercy's _Sake.

This Vow full well the King performed After on_ Humble-down, _In one Day fifty Knights were slain, With Lords of great Renown.

And of the rest of small Account Did many Thousands dye,_ &c.

At the same time that our Poet shews a laudable Partiality to his Countrymen, he represents the _Scots_ after a Manner not unbecoming so bold and brave a People.

_Earl Douglas on a milk-white Steed, Most like a Baron bold, Rode foremost of the Company Whose Armour shone like Gold_.

His Sentiments and Actions are every Way suitable to an Hero. One of us two, says he, must dye: I am an Earl as well as your self, so that you can have no Pretence for refusing the Combat: However, says he, 'tis Pity, and indeed would be a Sin, that so many innocent Men should perish for our sakes, rather let you and I end our Quarrel [in single Fight. [9]]

_Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall dye; I know thee well, an Earl thou art, Lord Piercy, so am I.

But trust me_, Piercy, _Pity it were, And great Offence, to kill Any of these our harmless Men, For they have done no Ill.

Let thou and I the Battle try, And set our Men aside; Accurst be he, Lord_ Piercy _said, By whom this is deny'd_.

When these brave Men had distinguished themselves in the Battle and a single Combat with each other, in the Midst of a generous Parly, full of heroic Sentiments, the _Scotch_ Earl falls; and with his dying Words encourages his Men to revenge his Death, representing to them, as the most bitter Circumstance of it, that his Rival saw him fall.

_With that there came an Arrow keen Out of an_ English _Bow, Which struck Earl_ Douglas _to the Heart A deep and deadly Blow.

Who never spoke more Words than these, Fight on, my merry Men all, For why, my Life is at an End, Lord_ Piercy sees _my Fall.

_Merry Men_, in the Language of those Times, is no more than a cheerful Word for Companions and Fellow-Soldiers. A Passage in the Eleventh Book of _Virgil's Æneid_ is very much to be admired, where _Camilla_ in her last Agonies instead of weeping over the Wound she had received, as one might have expected from a Warrior of her Sex, considers only (like the Hero of whom we are now speaking) how the Battle should be continued after her Death.

_Tum sic exspirans_, &c.

_A gathering Mist overclouds her chearful Eyes; And from her Cheeks the rosie Colour flies. Then turns to her, whom, of her Female Train, She trusted most, and thus she speaks with Pain. Acca, 'tis past! He swims before my Sight, Inexorable Death; and claims his Right. Bear my last Words to Turnus, fly with Speed, And bid him timely to my Charge succeed; Repel the Trojans, and the Town relieve: Farewel_ ...

_Turnus_ did not die in so heroic a Manner; tho' our Poet seems to have had his Eye upon _Turnus's_ Speech in the last Verse,

_Lord Piercy sees my Fall. ... Vicisti, et victum tendere palmas Ausonii videre_ ...

Earl _Piercy's_ Lamentation over his Enemy is generous, beautiful, and passionate; I must only caution the Reader not to let the Simplicity of the Stile, which one may well pardon in so old a Poet, prejudice him against the Greatness of the Thought.

_Then leaving Life, Earl Piercy took The dead Man by the Hand, And said, Earl Douglas, for thy Life Would I had lost my Land.

O Christ! my very heart doth bleed With Sorrow for thy Sake; For sure a more renowned Knight Mischance did never take_.

That beautiful Line, _Taking the dead Man by the Hand_, will put the Reader in mind of _Æneas's_ Behaviour towards _Lausus_, whom he himself had slain as he came to the Rescue of his aged Father.

_At vero ut vultum vidit morientis, et ora, Ora modis Anchisiades, pallentia miris; Ingemuit, miserans graviter, dextramque tetendit, &c.

The pious Prince beheld young Lausus dead; He grieved, he wept; then grasped his Hand, and said, Poor hapless Youth! What Praises can be paid To worth so great ..._

I shall take another Opportunity to consider the other Part of this old Song.

[Footnote 1: a little]

[Footnote 2: that]

[Footnote 3: Besides the old woman, Moliere is said to have relied on the children of the Comedians, read his pieces to them, and corrected passages at which they did not show themselves to be amused.]

[Footnote 4: 'Defence of Poesy'.]

[Footnote 5: The author of Chevy Chase was not contemporary with the dissensions of the Barons, even if the ballad of the 'Hunting of the Cheviot' was a celebration of the Battle of Otterbourne, fought in 1388, some 30 miles from Newcastle. The battle of Chevy Chase, between the Percy and the Douglas, was fought in Teviotdale, and the ballad which moved Philip Sidney's heart was written in the fifteenth century. It may have referred to a Battle of Pepperden, fought near the Cheviot Hills, between the Earl of Northumberland and Earl William Douglas of Angus, in 1436. The ballad quoted by Addison is not that of which Sidney spoke, but a version of it, written after Sidney's death, and after the best plays of Shakespeare had been written.]

[Footnote 6: that]

[Footnote 7: that]

[Footnote 8: received]

[Footnote 9: by a single Combat.]

* * * * *

No. 71. Tuesday, May 22, 1711. Steele.

'... Scribere jussit Amor.'

Ovid.

The entire Conquest of our Passions is so difficult a Work, that they who despair of it should think of a less difficult Task, and only attempt to Regulate them. But there is a third thing which may contribute not only to the Ease, but also to the Pleasure of our Life; and that is refining our Passions to a greater Elegance, than we receive them from Nature. When the Passion is Love, this Work is performed in innocent, though rude and uncultivated Minds, by the mere Force and Dignity of the Object. There are Forms which naturally create Respect in the Beholders, and at once Inflame and Chastise the Imagination. Such an Impression as this gives an immediate Ambition to deserve, in order to please. This Cause and Effect are beautifully described by Mr. _Dryden_ in the Fable of _Cymon_ and _Iphigenia_. After he has represented _Cymon_ so stupid, that

_He Whistled as he went, for want of Thought_,

he makes him fall into the following Scene, and shews its Influence upon him so excellently, that it appears as Natural as Wonderful.

_It happen'd on a Summer's Holiday, That to the Greenwood-shade he took his Way; His Quarter-staff, which he cou'd ne'er forsake, Hung half before, and half behind his Back. He trudg'd along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of Thought.

By Chance conducted, or by Thirst constrain'd, The deep recesses of the Grove he gain'd; Where in a Plain, defended by the Wood, Crept thro' the matted Grass a Crystal Flood, By which an Alabaster Fountain stood: And on the Margin of the Fount was laid, (Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid, Like_ Dian, _and her Nymphs, when, tir'd with Sport, To rest by cool_ Eurotas _they resort: The Dame herself the Goddess well expressed, Not more distinguished by her Purple Vest, Than by the charming Features of her Face, And even in Slumber a superior Grace: Her comely Limbs composed with decent Care, Her Body shaded with a slight Cymarr; Her Bosom to the View was only bare_:[1]

...

_The fanning Wind upon her Bosom blows, To meet the fanning Wind the Bosom rose; The fanning Wind and purling Streams continue her Repose.

The Fool of Nature stood with stupid Eyes And gaping Mouth, that testify'd Surprize, Fix'd on her Face, nor could remove his Sight, New as he was to Love, and Novice in Delight: Long mute he stood, and leaning on his Staff, His Wonder witness'd with an Idiot Laugh; Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering Sense First found his want of Words, and fear'd Offence: Doubted for what he was he should be known, By his Clown-Accent, and his Country Tone_.

But lest this fine Description should be excepted against, as the Creation of that great Master, Mr. _Dryden_, and not an Account of what has really ever happened in the World; I shall give you, _verbatim_, the Epistle of an enamoured Footman in the Country to his Mistress. [2] Their Sirnames shall not be inserted, because their Passion demands a greater Respect than is due to their Quality. _James_ is Servant in a great Family, and Elizabeth waits upon the Daughter of one as numerous, some Miles off of her Lover. _James_, before he beheld _Betty_, was vain of his Strength, a rough Wrestler, and quarrelsome Cudgel-Player; _Betty_ a Publick Dancer at Maypoles, a Romp at Stool-Ball: He always following idle Women, she playing among the Peasants: He a Country Bully, she a Country Coquet. But Love has made her constantly in her Mistress's Chamber, where the young Lady gratifies a secret Passion of her own, by making _Betty_ talk of _James_; and _James_ is become a constant Waiter near his Master's Apartment, in reading, as well as he can, Romances. I cannot learn who _Molly_ is, who it seems walked Ten Mile to carry the angry Message, which gave Occasion to what follows.

To _ELIZABETH_ ...

_My Dear Betty_, May 14, 1711.

Remember your bleeding Lover, who lies bleeding at the ... _Where two beginning Paps were scarcely spy'd, For yet their Places were but signify'd_.

Wounds _Cupid_ made with the Arrows he borrowed at the Eyes of _Venus_, which is your sweet Person.

Nay more, with the Token you sent me for my Love and Service offered to your sweet Person; which was your base Respects to my ill Conditions; when alas! there is no ill Conditions in me, but quite contrary; all Love and Purity, especially to your sweet Person; but all this I take as a Jest.

But the sad and dismal News which _Molly_ brought me, struck me to the Heart, which was, it seems, and is your ill Conditions for my Love and Respects to you.

For she told me, if I came Forty times to you, you would not speak with me, which Words I am sure is a great Grief to me.

Now, my Dear, if I may not be permitted to your sweet Company, and to have the Happiness of speaking with your sweet Person, I beg the Favour of you to accept of this my secret Mind and Thoughts, which hath so long lodged in my Breast; the which if you do not accept, I believe will go nigh to break my Heart.

For indeed, my Dear, I Love you above all the Beauties I ever saw in all my Life.

The young Gentleman, and my Masters Daughter, the _Londoner_ that is come down to marry her, sat in the Arbour most part of last Night. Oh! dear _Betty_, must the Nightingales sing to those who marry for Mony, and not to us true Lovers! Oh my dear _Betty_, that we could meet this Night where we used to do in the Wood!

Now, my Dear, if I may not have the Blessing of kissing your sweet Lips, I beg I may have the Happiness of kissing your fair Hand, with a few Lines from your dear self, presented by whom you please or think fit. I believe, if Time would permit me, I could write all Day; but the Time being short, and Paper little, no more from your never-failing Lover till Death, James ...

Poor James! Since his Time and Paper were so short; I, that have more than I can use well of both, will put the Sentiments of his kind Letter (the Stile of which seems to be confused with Scraps he had got in hearing and reading what he did not understand) into what he meant to express.

Dear Creature, Can you then neglect him who has forgot all his Recreations and Enjoyments, to pine away his Life in thinking of you?

When I do so, you appear more amiable to me than _Venus_ does in the most beautiful Description that ever was made of her. All this Kindness you return with an Accusation, that I do not love you: But the contrary is so manifest, that I cannot think you in earnest. But the Certainty given me in your Message by _Molly_, that you do not love me, is what robs me of all Comfort. She says you will not see me: If you can have so much Cruelty, at least write to me, that I may kiss the Impression made by your fair Hand. I love you above all things, and, in my Condition, what you look upon with Indifference is to me the most exquisite Pleasure or Pain. Our young Lady, and a fine Gentleman from _London_, who are to marry for mercenary Ends, walk about our Gardens, and hear the Voice of Evening Nightingales, as if for Fashion-sake they courted those Solitudes, because they have heard Lovers do so. Oh _Betty!_ could I hear these Rivulets murmur, and Birds sing while you stood near me, how little sensible should I be that we are both Servants, that there is anything on Earth above us. Oh! I could write to you as long as I love you, till Death it self.

_JAMES_.

_N. B._ By the Words _Ill-Conditions_, James means in a Woman _Coquetry_, in a Man _Inconstancy_.

R.

[Footnote 1: The next couplet Steele omits:]

[Footnote 2: James Hirst, a servant to the Hon. Edward Wortley (who was familiar with Steele, and a close friend of Addison's), by mistake gave to his master, with a parcel of letters, one that he had himself written to his sweetheart. Mr. Wortley opened it, read it, and would not return it.

'No, James,' he said, 'you shall be a great man. This letter must appear in the Spectator.'

And so it did. The end of the love story is that Betty died when on the point of marriage to James, who, out of love to her, married her sister.]

* * * * *

No. 72. Wednesday, May 23, 1711. Addison.

'... Genus immortale manet, multosque per annos Stat fortuna Domus, et avi numerantur avorum.'

Virg.

Having already given my Reader an Account of several extraordinary Clubs both ancient and modern, I did not design to have troubled him with any more Narratives of this Nature; but I have lately received Information of a Club which I can call neither ancient nor modern, that I dare say will be no less surprising to my Reader than it was to my self; for which Reason I shall communicate it to the Publick as one of the greatest Curiosities in its kind.

A Friend of mine complaining of a Tradesman who is related to him, after having represented him as a very idle worthless Fellow, who neglected his Family, and spent most of his Time over a Bottle, told me, to conclude his Character, that he was a Member of the _Everlasting Club_. So very odd a Title raised my Curiosity to enquire into the Nature of a Club that had such a sounding Name; upon which my Friend gave me the following Account.

The Everlasting Club consists of a hundred Members, who divide the whole twenty four Hours among them in such a Manner, that the Club sits Day and Night from one end of the Year to [another [1]], no Party presuming to rise till they are relieved by those who are in course to succeed them. By this means a Member of the Everlasting Club never wants Company; for tho' he is not upon Duty himself, he is sure to find some [who [2]] are; so that if he be disposed to take a Whet, a Nooning, an Evening's Draught, or a Bottle after Midnight, he goes to the Club and finds a Knot of Friends to his Mind.

It is a Maxim in this Club That the Steward never dies; for as they succeed one another by way of Rotation, no Man is to quit the great Elbow-chair [which [2]] stands at the upper End of the Table, 'till his Successor is in a Readiness to fill it; insomuch that there has not been a _Sede vacante_ in the Memory of Man.

This Club was instituted towards the End (or, as some of them say, about the Middle) of the Civil Wars, and continued without Interruption till the Time of the _Great Fire_, [3] which burnt them out and dispersed them for several Weeks. The Steward at that time maintained his Post till he had like to have been blown up with a neighbouring-House, (which was demolished in order to stop the Fire;) and would not leave the Chair at last, till he had emptied all the Bottles upon the Table, and received repeated Directions from the Club to withdraw himself. This Steward is frequently talked of in the Club, and looked upon by every Member of it as a greater Man, than the famous Captain [mentioned in my Lord _Clarendon_, [who [2]] was burnt in his Ship because he would not quit it without Orders. It is said that towards the close of 1700, being the great Year of Jubilee, the Club had it under Consideration whether they should break up or continue their Session; but after many Speeches and Debates it was at length agreed to sit out the other Century. This Resolution passed in a general Club _Nemine Contradicente_.

Having given this short Account of the Institution and Continuation of the Everlasting Club, I should here endeavour to say something of the Manners and Characters of its several Members, which I shall do according to the best Lights I have received in this Matter.

It appears by their Books in general, that, since their first Institution, they have smoked fifty Tun of Tobacco; drank thirty thousand Butts of Ale, One thousand Hogsheads of Red Port, Two hundred Barrels of Brandy, and a Kilderkin of small Beer. There has been likewise a great Consumption of Cards. It is also said, that they observe the law in _Ben. Johnson's_ Club, which orders the Fire to be always kept in (_focus perennis esto_) as well for the Convenience of lighting their Pipes, as to cure the Dampness of the Club-Room. They have an old Woman in the nature of a Vestal, whose Business it is to cherish and perpetuate the Fire [which [2]] burns from Generation to Generation, and has seen the Glass-house Fires in and out above an Hundred Times.

The Everlasting Club treats all other Clubs with an Eye of Contempt, and talks even of the Kit-Cat and October as of a couple of Upstarts. Their ordinary Discourse (as much as I have been able to learn of it) turns altogether upon such Adventures as have passed in their own Assembly; of Members who have taken the Glass in their Turns for a Week together, without stirring out of their Club; of others [who [2]] have smoaked an Hundred Pipes at a Sitting; of others [who [2]] have not missed their Morning's Draught for Twenty Years together: Sometimes they speak in Raptures of a Run of Ale in King Charles's Reign; and sometimes reflect with Astonishment upon Games at Whisk, [which [2]] have been miraculously recovered by Members of the Society, when in all human Probability the Case was desperate.

They delight in several old Catches, which they sing at all Hours to encourage one another to moisten their Clay, and grow immortal by drinking; with many other edifying Exhortations of the like Nature.

There are four general Clubs held in a Year, at which Times they fill up Vacancies, appoint Waiters, confirm the old Fire-Maker or elect a new one, settle Contributions for Coals, Pipes, Tobacco, and other Necessaries.

The Senior Member has out-lived the whole Club twice over, and has been drunk with the Grandfathers of some of the present sitting Members.