X.
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No. 326. Friday, March 14, 1712. Steele.
Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum Tristes exubiæ, munierant satis Nocturnis ab adulteris; Si non--
Hor.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
Your Correspondents Letter relating to Fortune-Hunters, and your subsequent Discourse upon it, have given me Encouragement to send you a State of my Case, by which you will see, that the Matter complained of is a common Grievance both to City and Country.
I am a Country Gentleman of between five and six thousand a Year. It is my Misfortune to have a very fine Park and an only Daughter; upon which account I have been so plagu'd with Deer-Stealers and Fops, that for these four Years past I have scarce enjoy'd a Moments Rest. I look upon my self to be in a State of War, and am forc'd to keep as constant watch in my Seat, as a Governour would do that commanded a Town on the Frontier of an Enemy's Country. I have indeed pretty well secur'd my Park, having for this purpose provided my self of four Keepers, who are Left-handed, and handle a Quarter-Staff beyond any other Fellow in the Country. And for the Guard of my House, besides a Band of Pensioner-Matrons and an old Maiden Relation, whom I keep on constant Duty, I have Blunderbusses always charged, and Fox-Gins planted in private Places about my Garden, of which I have given frequent Notice in the Neighbourhood; yet so it is, that in spite of all my Care, I shall every now and then have a saucy Rascal ride by reconnoitring (as I think you call it) under my Windows, as sprucely drest as if he were going to a Ball. I am aware of this way of attacking a Mistress on Horseback, having heard that it is a common Practice in Spain; and have therefore taken care to remove my Daughter from the Road-side of the House, and to lodge her next the Garden. But to cut short my Story; what can a Man do after all? I durst not stand for Member of Parliament last Election, for fear of some ill Consequence from my being off of my Post. What I would therefore desire of you, is, to promote a Project I have set on foot; and upon which I have writ to some of my Friends; and that is, that care may be taken to secure our Daughters by Law, as well as our Deer; and that some honest Gentleman of a publick Spirit, would move for Leave to bring in a Bill For the better preserving of the Female Game. I am, SIR, Your humble Servant.
Mile-End-Green, March 6, 1711-12.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
Here is a young Man walks by our Door every Day about the Dusk of the Evening. He looks up at my Window, as if to see me; and if I steal towards it to peep at him, he turns another way, and looks frightened at finding what he was looking for. The Air is very cold; and pray let him know that if he knocks at the Door, he will be carry'd to the Parlour Fire; and I will come down soon after, and give him an Opportunity to break his Mind. I am, SIR, Your humble Servant, Mary Comfitt.
If I observe he cannot speak, Ill give him time to recover himself, and ask him how he does.
Dear SIR, I beg you to print this without Delay, and by the first Opportunity give us the natural Causes of Longing in Women; or put me out of Fear that my Wife will one time or other be delivered of something as monstrous as any thing that has yet appeared to the World; for they say the Child is to bear a Resemblance of what was desir'd by the Mother. I have been marry'd upwards of six Years, have had four Children, and my Wife is now big with the fifth. The Expences she has put me to in procuring what she has longed for during her Pregnancy with them, would not only have handsomely defray'd the Charges of the Month, but of their Education too; her Fancy being so exorbitant for the first Year or two, as not to confine it self to the usual Objects of Eatables and Drinkables, but running out after Equipage and Furniture, and the like Extravagancies. To trouble you only with a few of them: When she was with Child of Tom, my eldest Son, she came home one day just fainting, and told me she had been visiting a Relation, whose Husband had made her a Present of a Chariot and a stately pair of Horses; and that she was positive she could not breathe a Week longer, unless she took the Air in the Fellow to it of her own within that time: This, rather than lose an Heir, I readily comply'd with. Then the Furniture of her best Room must be instantly changed, or she should mark the Child with some of the frightful Figures in the old-fashion'd Tapestry. Well, the Upholsterer was called, and her Longing sav'd that bout. When she went with Molly, she had fix'd her Mind upon a new Set of Plate, and as much China as would have furnished an India Shop: These also I chearfully granted, for fear of being Father to an Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose upon every Concession; and had she gone on, I had been ruined: But by good Fortune, with her third, which was Peggy, the Height of her Imagination came down to the Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought her once even upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily preferred to those of her Vanity; and sometimes a Partridge or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear or the Pestle of a Lark, were chearfully purchased; nay, I could be contented tho I were to feed her with green Pease in April, or Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending twill make the Child's Skin white; and nothing will serve her but I must bear her Company, to prevent its having a Shade of my Brown: In this however I have ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as we were coming to Town, she saw a parcel of Crows so heartily at Break-fast upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that she had an invincible Desire to partake with them, and (to my infinite Surprize) begged the Coachman to cut her off a Slice as if twere for himself, which the Fellow did; and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such an Appetite, that she seemed rather to devour than eat it. What her next Sally will be, I cannot guess: but in the mean time my Request to you is, that if there be any way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily afford us your Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of Pin-Money, and I think in every Settlement there ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father should be answerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I shall impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter and am SIR, Your most Obliged, and most Faithful Humble Servant, T.B.
Let me know whether you think the next Child will love Horses as much as Molly does China-Ware.
T.
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No. 327. Saturday, March 15, 1712. Addison.
Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.
Virg.
We were told in the foregoing Book how the evil Spirit practised upon Eve as she lay asleep, in order to inspire her with Thoughts of Vanity, Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that arise in it, founds upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first Part of the fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking finds Eve still asleep, with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he regards her, is describ'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd to a Lovers Ear.
His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve With Tresses discompos'd, and glowing Cheek, As through unquiet Rest: he on his side Leaning half-rais'd, with Looks of cordial Love Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes, Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake My Fairest, my Espous'd, my latest found, Heavns last best Gift, my ever new Delight! Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove, What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed, How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee Sits on the Bloom, extracting liquid Sweets.
Such whispering wak'd her, but with startled Eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake:
O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose, My Glory, my Perfection! glad I see Thy Face, and Morn return'd----
I cannot but take notice that Milton, in the Conferences between Adam and Eve, had his Eye very frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the Age of Solomon. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and come away; for lo the Winter is past, the Rain is over and gone, the Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come, and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair-one and come away.
Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early to the Vineyards, let us see if the Vine flourish, whether the tender Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth.
His preferring the Garden of Eden, to that
--Where the Sapient King Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse,
shews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his mind.
Eves Dream is full of those high Conceits engendring Pride, which, we are told, the Devil endeavour'd to instill into her. Of this kind is that Part of it where she fancies herself awaken'd by Adam in the following beautiful Lines.
Why sleepst thou Eve? now is the pleasant Time, The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields To the night-warbling Bird, that now awake Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song; now reigns Full orb'd the Moon, and with more [pleasing [1]] Light Shadowy sets off the Face of things: In vain, If none regard. Heavn wakes with all his Eyes, Whom to behold but thee, Natures Desire, In whose sight all things joy, with Ravishment, Attracted by thy Beauty still to gaze!
An injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk thro the whole Work in such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the Courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be heard by Eve in her State of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho the Catastrophe of the Poem is finely presag'd on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which follows in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho the Vision it self is founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, conformable to his superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this occasion.
So chear'd he his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd, But silently a gentle Tear let fall From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair; Two other precious Drops, that ready stood Each in their chrystal Sluice, he ere they fell Kiss'd, as the gracious Sign of sweet Remorse And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.
The Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of one of those Psalms, where, in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the Psalmist calls not only upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of Gods Works, and awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen the various Dispensations of Providence, nor consequently could be acquainted with those many Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness of that Resolution with which it concludes.
Having already mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet [gives [2]] of Raphael. His Departure from before the Throne, and the Flight through the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As Milton every where fills his Poem with Circumstances that are marvellous and astonishing, he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it opened of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through it.
Till at the Gate Of Heavn arriv'd, the Gate self-open'd wide, On golden Hinges turning, as by Work Divine, the Sovereign Architect had framed.
The Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th Iliad, as that in particular, where speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon occasion, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner. Scaliger has rallied Homer very severely upon this Point, as M. Dacier has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether in this particular of Homer the Marvellous does not lose sight of the Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of Milton's Gates is not so extraordinary as this of the Tripodes, so I am persuaded he would not have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims, whom they accompanied.
There is no question but Milton had this Circumstance in his Thoughts, because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the Messiah with living Wheels, according to the Plan in Ezekiel's Vision.
--Forth rush'd with Whirlwind sound The Chariot of paternal Deity Flashing thick flames?, Wheel within Wheel undrawn, Itself instinct with Spirit--
I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers, who are for vindicating every thing that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in Holy Writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting Vulcan's Tripodes with Ezekiel's Wheels.
Raphael's Descent to the Earth, with the Figure of his Person, is represented in very lively Colours. Several of the French, Italian and English Poets have given a Loose to their Imaginations in the Description of Angels: But I do not remember to have met with any so finely drawn, and so conformable to the Notions which are given of them in Scripture, as this in Milton. After having set him forth in all his Heavenly Plumage, and represented him as alighting upon the Earth, the Poet concludes his Description with a Circumstance, which is altogether new, and imagined with the greatest Strength of Fancy.
--Like Maia's Son he stood, And shook his Plumes, that Heavnly Fragrance fill'd The Circuit wide.--
Raphael's Reception by the Guardian Angels; his passing through the Wilderness of Sweets; his distant Appearance to Adam, have all the Graces that Poetry is capable of bestowing. The Author afterwards gives us a particular Description of Eve in her Domestick Employments
So saying, with dispatchful Looks in haste She turns, on hospitable Thoughts intent, What Choice to chuse for Delicacy best, What order, so contrived, as not to mix Tastes, not well join'd, inelegant, but bring Taste after Taste; upheld with kindliest Change; Bestirs her then, &c.--
Though in this, and other Parts of the same Book, the Subject is only the Housewifry of our first Parent, it is set off with so many pleasing Images and strong Expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable Parts in this Divine Work.
The natural Majesty of Adam, and at the same time his submissive Behaviour to the Superior Being, who had vouchsafed to be his Guest; the solemn Hail which the Angel bestows upon the Mother of Mankind, with the Figure of Eve ministring at the Table, are Circumstances which deserve to be admired.
Raphael's Behaviour is every way suitable to the Dignity of his Nature, and to that Character of a sociable Spirit, with which the Author has so judiciously introduced him. He had received Instructions to converse with Adam, as one Friend converses with another, and to warn him of the Enemy, who was contriving his Destruction: Accordingly he is represented as sitting down at Table with Adam, and eating of the Fruits of Paradise. The Occasion naturally leads him to his Discourse on the Food of Angels. After having thus entered into Conversation with Man upon more indifferent Subjects, he warns him of his Obedience, and makes natural Transition to the History of that fallen Angel, who was employ'd in the Circumvention of our first Parents.
Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's Method in my first Paper of Milton, I should have dated the Action of Paradise Lost from the Beginning of Raphael's Speech in this Book, as he supposes the Action of the Æneid to begin in the second Book of that Poem. I could allege many Reasons for my drawing the Action of the Æneid rather from its immediate Beginning in the first Book, than from its remote Beginning in the second; and shew why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an Episode, according to the common Acceptation of that Word. But as this would be a dry unentertaining Piece of Criticism, and perhaps unnecessary to those who have read my first Paper, I shall not enlarge upon it. Whichever of the Notions be true, the Unity of Milton's Action is preserved according to either of them; whether we consider the Fall of Man in its immediate Beginning, as proceeding from the Resolutions taken in the infernal Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceeding from the first Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. The Occasion which Milton assigns for this Revolt, as it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the Opinion of some great Writers, so it was the most proper that the Poet could have made use of.
The Revolt in Heaven is described with great Force of Imagination and a fine Variety of Circumstances. The learned Reader cannot but be pleased with the Poets Imitation of Homer in the last of the following Lines.
At length into the Limits of the North They came, and Satan took his Royal Seat High on a Hill, far blazing, as a Mount Rais'd on a Mount, with Pyramids and Towrs From Diamond Quarries hewn, and Rocks of Gold, The Palace of great Lucifer, (so call That Structure in the Dialect of Men Interpreted)--
Homer mentions Persons and Things, which he tells us in the Language of the Gods are call'd by different Names from those they go by in the Language of Men. Milton has imitated him with his usual Judgment in this
## particular Place, wherein he has likewise the Authority of Scripture to
justifie him. The Part of Abdiel, who was the only Spirit that in this infinite Host of Angels preserved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The Zeal of the Seraphim breaks forth in a becoming Warmth of Sentiments and Expressions, as the Character which is given us of him denotes that generous Scorn and Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. The Author doubtless designed it as a Pattern to those who live among Mankind in their present State of Degeneracy and Corruption.
So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he; Among innumerable false, unmov'd, Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd; His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal: Nor Number, nor Example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant Mind, Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd, Long way through [hostile] Scorn, which he sustain'd Superior, nor of Violence fear'd ought; And, with retorted Scorn, his Back he turn'd On those proud Towrs to swift Destruction doom'd.