At velut exhausta redivivus pullulet arca Jud. Sat. vi. 361. cannot any offer more worthy a generous, learning which is given is generally more mind. Would you do a handsome thing edifying to them, than that which is sold without return; do it for an infant that is to others. Thus do they become more exnot sensible of the obligation. Would you alted in goodness, by being depressed in do it for public gond; do it for one who will fortune, and their poverty is, in reality, be an honest artificer. Would you do it their preferment.' T. for the sake of heaven; give it to one who shall be instructed in the worship of Him for whose sake you give it. It is, methinks, No. 295.] Thursday, February 7, 1711-12. a most laudable institution this, if it were Prodiga non sentit pereuntem fæmina censum: of no other expectation than that of producing a race of good and useful servants, Nummus, et e pleno semper tollatur acervo, who will have more than a liberal, a reli- Non unquam reputat, quanti sibi guadia constant. gious education. What would not a man do in common prudence to lay out in pur But womankind, that never knows a mean, Down to the dregs their sinking fortunes drain: chase of one about him, who would add to Hourly they give, and spend, and waste, and wear, all his orders he gave, the weight of the And think no pleasure can be bought too dear. commandments, to enforce an obedience to Dryden. them? for one who would consider his mas- • Mr. SPECTATOR,-I am turned of my ter as his father, his friend, and benefactor, great climacteric, and am naturally a man upon easy terms, and in expectation of no of a meek temper. About a dozen years other return but moderate wages and gentle ago, I was married, for my sins, to a young usage? It is the common vice of children woman of a good family, and of a high to run too much among the servants; from spirit ; but could not bring her to close with such as are educated in these places they me, before I had entered into a treaty with would see nothing but lowliness in the ser- her longer than that of the grand alliance. vant, which would not be disingenuous in Among other articles, it was therein stiputhe child. All the ill offices and defamatory lated, that she should have 4001. a year for whispers, which take their birth from do- pin-money, which I obliged myself to pay mestics, would be prevented, if this charity quarterly into the hands of one, who acted could be made universal: and a good man as her plenipotentiary in that affair. I have might have a knowledge of the whole life ever since religiously observed my part in of the person he designs to take into his this solemn agreement. Now sir, so it is, house for his own service, or that of his that the lady has had several children since family or children, long before they were I married her; to which, if I should credit admitted. This would create endearing our malicious neighbours, her pin-money dependencies: and the obligation would has not a little contributed. The educahave a paternal air in the master, who tion of these my children, who, contrary would be relieved from much care and to my expectation, are born to me every anxiety by the gratitude and diligence of year, straitens me so much, that I have an humble friend attending him as his ser- begged their mother to free me from the vant. I fall into this discourse from a letter obligation of the above-mentioned pin-mosent to me, to give me notice that fifty boys ney, that it may go towards making a prowould be clothed, and take their seats (at vision for her family. This proposal makes the charge of some generous benefactors) in her noble blood swell in her veins, insoSt. Bride's church, on Sunday next. I wish much, that finding me a little tardy in my I could promise to myself any thing which last quarter's payment, she threatens me my correspondent seems to expect from a every day to arrest me; and proceeds so publication of it in this paper; for there can far as to tell me, that if I do not do her be nothing added to what so many excel-justice, I shall die in a jail. To this she lent and learned men have said on this oc- adds, when her passion will let her argue casion. But that there may be something calmly, that she has several play-debts on here which would move a generous mind, her hand, which must be discharged very like that of him who wrote to me, I shall suddenly, and that she cannot lose her motranscribe a handsome paragraph of Dr. ney as becomes a woman of her fashion, if Snape's sermon on these charities, which she makes me any abatement in this artimy correspondent enclosed with his letter. cle. I hope, sir, you will take an occasion The wise Providence has amply com- from hence to give your opinion upon a pensated the disadvantages of the poor and subject which you have not yet touched, indigent, in wanting many of the conve- and inform us if there are any precedents niences of this life, by a more abundant for this usage, among our ancestors : or provision for their happiness in the next whether you find any mention of pin-money Had they been higher born, or more richly in Grotius, Puffendorf, or any other of the endowed, they would have wanted this civilians. manner of education, of which those only “I am ever the humblest of your admirers, enjoy the benefit who are low enough to "JOSIAH FRIBBLE, Esq.' submit to it; where they have such advantages without money, and without price, as As there is no man living who is a more the rich cannot purchase with it. The professed advocate for the fair sex than myself, so there is none that would be more | (in the phrase of a homely proverb,) of unwilling to invade any of their ancient being 'penny wise and pound foolish. rights and privileges; but as the doctrine It is observed of over-cautious generals, of pin-money is of late date, unknown to that they never engage in a battle withour great grandmothers, and not yet re- out securing a retreat, in case the event ceived by many of our modern ladies, I should not answer their expectations; on think it is for the interest of both sexes to the other hand, the greatest conquerors keep it from spreading. have burnt their ships, or broke down the Mr. Fribble may not, perhaps, be much bridges behind them, as being determined mistaken where he intimates, that the sup- either to succeed or die in the engagement. plying a man's wife with pin-money, is fur- In the same manner I should very much nishing her with arms against himself, and suspect a woman who takes such precauin a manner becoming accessary to his own tions for her retreat, and contrives methods dishonour. We may indeed, generally ob- how she may live happily, without the afserve, that in proportion as a woman is fection of one to whom she joins herself for more or less beautiful, and her husband life. Separate purses between man and advanced in years, she stands in need of a wife are, in my opinion, as unnatural as segreater or less number of pins, and upon a parate beds. Á marriage cannot be happy, treaty of marriage, rises or falls in her de- where the pleasures, inclinations, and inmands accordingly. It must likewise be terests of both parties are not the same. owned, that high quality in a mistress does There is no greater incitement to love in very much inflame this article in the mar- the mind of man, than the sense of a perriage reckoning. son's depending upon him for her ease and But where the age and circumstances of happiness; as a woman uses all her enboth parties are pretty much upon a level, deavours to please the person whom she I cannot but think the insisting upon pin- looks upon as her honour, her comfort, and money is very extraordinary; and yet we her support. find several matches broken off upon this For this reason I am not very much survery head. What would a foreigner, or prised at the behaviour of a rough country one who is a stranger to this practice think'squire, who, being not a little shocked of a lover that forsakes his mistress, be- at the proceeding of a young widow that cause he is not willing to keep her in pins? would not recede from her demands of pinBut what would he think of the mistress, money, was so cnraged at her mercenary should he be informed that she asks five or temper, that he told her in great wrath, six hundred pounds a year for this use? As much as she thought him her slave, Should a man unacquainted with our cus- he would show all the world he did not toms be told the sums which are allowed in care a pin for her.' Upon which he flew Great Britain, under the title of pin-money, out of the room, and never saw her more. what a prodigious consumption of pins Socrates in Plato's Alcibiades says, he would he think there was in this island. was informed by one who had travelled • A pin a day,' says our frugal proverb, is through Persia, that as he passed over a a groat a year: so that, according to this great tract of land, and inquired what the calculation, my friend Fribble's wife must name of the place was, they told him it every year make use of eight million six was the Queen's Girdle: to which he adds, hundred and forty thousand new pins. that another wide field which lay by it, I am not ignorant that our British ladies was called the Queen's Veil: and that in allege they comprehend under this general the same manner there was a large portion term, several other conveniences of life: I of ground set aside for every part of her could therefore wish for the honour of my majesty's dress. These lands might not country women, that they had rather call it be improperly called the Queen of Persia's needle-money, which might have implied pin-money, something of good housewifery, and not I remember my friend Sir Roger, who, I have given the malicious world occasion to dare say, never read this passage in Plato, think, that dress and trifles have always the told me some time since, that upon his uppermost place in a woman's thoughts. courting the perverse widow (of whom I I know several of my fair readers urge, have given an account in former papers) in defence of this practice, that it is but a he had disposed of a hundred acres in a necessary provision they make for them- diamond ring, which he would have preselves, in case their husband proves a sented her with, had she thought fit to churl, or a miser; so that they consider accept it: and that upon her wedding-day, this allowance as a kind of alimony, which she should have carried on her head fifty they may lay their claim to, without ac- of the tallest oaks upon his estate. He tually separating from their husbands. But further informed me, that he would have with submission, I think a woman who will given her a coal-pit to keep her in clean give up herself to a man in marriage, where linen, that he would have allowed her the there is the least room for such an appre- profits of a wind-mill for her fans, and have hension, and trust her person to one whom presented her once in three years, with the she will not rely on for the common neces- shearing of his sheep for her under pettisaries of life, may very properly be accused |coats. To which the knight always adds, that though he did not care for fine clothes the same opinion of me. I must own I love himself, there should not have been a woman to look at them all, one for being wellin the country better dressed than my lady dressed, a second for his fine eye, and one Coverley. Sir Roger, perhaps may in this, particular one, because he is the least man as well as in many other of his devices, ap- I ever saw; but there is something so easy pear something odd and singular; but if the and pleasant in the manner of my little man, humour of pin-money prevails, I think it that I observe he is a favourite of all his acwould be very proper for every gentleman quaintance. I could go on to tell you of of an estate, to mark out so many acres of many others, that I believe think I have it under the title of “The Pins. L. encouraged them from my window: but pray let me have your opinion of the use of the window, in the apartment of a beautiful No. 296.] Friday, February 8, 1711-12. lady; and how often she may look out at -Nugis adhere pondus. the same man, without being supposed to Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xix. 42 have a mind to jump out to him. Your's, Add weight to trifles. •AURÉLIA CARELESS.' *DEAR SPEC,-Having lately conversed Twice. much with the fair sex on the subject of your •Mr. SPECTATOR,—I have for some time speculations (which since their appearance made love to a lady, who received it with in public, have been the chief exercise of all the kind returns I ought to expect; but the female loquacious faculty) I found the without any provocation, that I know of, fair ones possessed with a dissatisfaction at she has of late shunned me with the utmost your prefixing Greek mottos to the frontis- abhorrence, insomuch that she went out of pieces of your papers; and, as a man of church last Sunday in the midst of divine gallantry, I thought it a duty incumbent on service, upon my coming into the same me to impart it to you, in hopes of a re- pew. Pray, sir, what must I do in this formation, which is only to be effected by business? Your servant, a restoration of the Latin to the usual dig • EUPHUES.' nity in your papers, which, of late, the Let her alone ten days. Greek, to the great displeasure of your female readers, has usurped; for though the •York, Jan. 20, 1711-12. Latin has the recommendation of being as MR. SPECTATOR, -We have in this unintelligible to them as the Greek, yet town a sort of people who pretend to wit, being written of the same character with and write lampoons; I have lately been the their mother tongue, by the assistance of a subject of one of them. The scribbler had spelling-book it is legible; which quality the not genius enough in verse to turn my age, Greek wants: and since the introduction of as indeed I am an old maid, into raillery, operas into this nation, the ladies are so for affecting a youthier turn than is concharmed with sounds abstracted from their sistent with my time of day; and therefore ideas, that they adore and honour the sound he makes the title of his madrigal, The of Latin, as it is old Italian. I am a soli- character of Mrs. Judith Lovebane, born citor for the fair sex, and therefore think in the year 1680. What I desire of you is, myself in that character more likely to be that you disallow that a coxcomb, who preprevalent in this request, than if I should tends to write verse, should put the most subscribe myself by my proper name. malicious thing he can say in prose. This J. M. I humbly conceive will disable our country 'I desire you may insert this in one of wits, who indeed take a great deal of pains your speculations, to show my zeal for re to say any thing in rhyme, though they say moving the dissatisfaction of the fair sex, ill. Sir, your humble servant, •SUSANNA LOVEBANE.' and restoring you to their favour.' "MR. SPECTATOR,–We are several of “SIR,-I was some time since in company with a young officer, who entertained us, gentleman and ladies, who board in the same house, and after dinner one of our comus with the conquest he had made over a female neighbour of his; when a gentleman Stands up, and reads your paper to us all . pany (an agreeable man enough otherwise) who stood by, as I suppose, envying the cap- We are the civilest people in the world to tain's good fortune, asked him what reason he had to believe the lady admired him? this way of desiring our reader, when he is one another, and therefore I am forced to “Why," says he, “my lodgings are oppo- doing this office, not to stand afore the fire. site to her's, and she is continually at her This will be a general good to our family, window, either at work, reading, taking this cold weather. He will, I know, take snuff, or putting herself in some toying it to be our common request when he comes posture on purpose to draw. my eyes that to these words, “Pray, sir, sit down;" which The , and you will particumade me reflect on some of my own actions; for you must know, sir, I am often larly oblige your daily reader, at a window which fronts the apartments •CHARITY FROST.' of several gentlemen, who I doubt not have SIR, -I am a great lover of dancing, it very way." velut si Hor. Sat. vi. Lib. 1. 66. but cannot perform so well as some others; I have taken some pains in a former paper however, by my out-of-the-way capers, to show, that this kind of implex fable, and some original grimaces, I do not fail wherein the event is unhappy, is more apt to divert the company, particularly the to affect an audience than that of the ladies, who laugh immoderately all the first kind; notwithstanding many excellent time. Some, who pretend to be my friends pieces among the ancients, as well as most tell me that they do it in derision, and would of those which have been written of late advise me to leave it off, withal that I make years in our own country are raised upon myself ridiculous. I do not know what to contrary plans. I must however own, that do in this affair, but I am resolved not to I think this kind of fable, which is the most give over upon any account, until I have the perfect in tragedy, is not so proper for a opinion of the Spectator. Your humble heroic poem. servant, JOHN TROTT.' Milton seems to have been sensible of this If Mr. Trott is not awkward out of time, fore endeavoured to cure it by several ex imperfection in his fable, and has therehe has a right to dance, let who will laugh; pedients; particularly by the mortifica, but if he has no ear he will interrupt others: tion which the great adversary of mankind and I am of opinion he should sit still. meets with upon his return to the assembly Given under my hand this fifth of Febru- of infernal spirits, as it is described in a ary, 1711-12 THE SPECTATOR. beautiful passage of the third book; and T. likewise by the vision wherein Adam, at the close of the poem, sees his offspring, triumphing over his great enemy, and himNo. 297.] Saturday, February 9, 1711-12. self restored to a happier paradise than that from which he fell." Egregio inspersos reprendas corpore nævos. There is another objection against Mil ton's fable, which is indeed almost the As perfect beauties somewhere have a mole.-Creech. same with the former, though placed in a different light, namely—That the hero in AFTER what I have said in my last Sa- the Paradise Lost is unsuccessful, and by no turday's paper, I shall enter on the subject means a match for his enemies. This gave of this without further preface, and remark occasion to Mr. Dryden's reflection, that the several defects which appear in the the devil was in reality Milton's hero. I fable, the characters, the sentiments, and think I have obviated this objection in my the language of Milton's Paradise Lost; not first paper. The Paradise Lost is an epic, doubting but the reader will pardon me, if or a narrative poem, and he that looks for I allege at the same time whatever may be a hero in it, searches for that which Milsaid for the extenuation of such defects. ton never intended; but if he will needs fix The first imperfection which I shall ob- the name of a hero upon any person in it, serve in the fable is, that the event of it is it is certainly the Messiah who is the hero, unhappy: both in the principal action, and in the The fable of every poem is, according to chief episodes. Paganism could not furnish Aristotle's division, either simple or implex. out a real action for a fable greater than It is called simple when there is no change that of the Iliad or Æneid, and therefore a of fortune in it; implex, when the fortune heathen could not form a higher notion of of the chief actor changes from bad to good, a poem than one of that kind, which they or from good to bad. The implex fable is call a heroic. Whether Milton's is not of thought the most perfect: I suppose, be- a sublimer nature I will not presume to cause it is more proper to stir up the pas- determine: it is sufficient that I show there sions of the reader, and to surprise him with is in the Paradise Lost all the greatness of a greater variety of accidents. plan, regularity of design, and masterly The implex fable is therefore of two beauties which we discover in Homer and kinds: in the first, the chief actor makes Virgil. his way through a long series of dangers I must in the next place observe, that and difficulties, until he arrives at honour Milton has interwoven in the texture of his and prosperity, as we see in the stories of fable some particulars which do not seem Ulysses and Æneas; in the second, the chief to have probability enough for an epic actor in the poem falls from some eminent poem, particularly in the actions which he pitch of honour and prosperity, into misery ascribes to Sin and Death, and the picture and disgrace. Thus we see Adam and Eve which he draws of the Limbo of Vanity,' sinking from a state of innocence and hap- with other passages in the second book. piness, into the most abject condition of sin Such allegories rather savour of the spirit and sorrow. of Spencer and Ariosto, than of Homer The most taking tragedies among the an- and Virgil. cients, were built on this last sort of implex In the structure of his poem he has likefable, particularly the tragedy of Edipus, wise admitted too many digressions. It is which proceeds upon a story, if we may be- finely observed by Aristotle, that the aulieve Aristotle, the most proper for tragedy thor of a heroic poem should seldom speak that could be invented by the wit of man. himself, but throw as much of his work as he can into the mouths of those who are his , of the angels eating, and several other pasprincipal actors. Aristotle_has given no sages in his poem, are liable to the same reason for this precept: but I presume it is exception, though I must confess there is because the mind of the reader is more so great a beauty in these very digressions, awed and elevated, when he hears Æneas that I would not wish them out of his poem. or Achilles speak, than when Virgil or I have in a former paper spoken of the Homer talk in their own persons. Besides characters of Milton's Paradise Lost, and that assuming the character of an eminent declared my opinion, as to the allegorical man is apt to fire the imagination, and raise persons who were introduced in it. the ideas of the author. Tully tells us, If we look into the sentiments, I think mentioning his dialogue of old age, in which they are sometimes defective under the Cato is the chief speaker, that upon a re- following heads; first, as there are several view of it he was agreeably imposed upon, of them too much pointed, and some that and fancied that it was Cato, and not he degenerate even into puns. Of this last himself, who uttered his thoughts on that kind I am afraid is that in the first book, subject. where, speaking of the pygmies, he calls If the reader would be at the pains to see them, how the story of the Iliad and the Æneid The small infantry is delivered by those persons who act in it, Warr'd on by cranes. he will be surprised to find how little either of these poems proceeds from the authors. Another blemish that appears in some of Milton has, in the general disposition of his thoughts, is his frequent allusion to his fable, very finely observed this great heathen fables, which are not certainly of rule; insomuch that there is scarce a tenth a piece with the divine subject of which he part of it which comes from the poet; the treats. I do not find fault with these allurest is spoken either by Adam or Eve, or by sions where the poet himself represents some good or evil spirit who is engaged them as fabulous, as he does in some either in their destruction or defence. places, but where he mentions them as From what has been here observed it ap-truths and matters of fact. The limits of pears, that digressions are by no means to my paper will not give me leave to be parbe allowed of in an epic poem. If the poet, ticular in instances of this kind; the reader even in the ordinary course of his narra- will easily remark them in his perusal of tion, should speak as little as possible, he the poem. should certainly never let his narration A third fault in his sentiments is an unsleep for the sake of any reflections of his necessary ostentation of learning, which own. I have often observed, with a secret likewise occurs very frequently. It is ceradmiration, that the longest reflection in the tain that both Homer and Virgil were Æneid is in that passage of the tenth book, masters of all the learning of their times, Where Turnus is represented as dressing but it shows itself in their works after an himself in the spoils of Pallas, whom he indirect and concealed manner. Milton had slain. Virgil here lets his fable stand seems ambitious of letting us know, by his still, for the sake of the following remark. excursions on free-will and predestination, • How is the mind of man ignorant of fu- and his many glances upon history, astronoturity, and unable to bear prosperous for- my, geography, and the like, as well as by tune with moderation! The time will come the terms and phrases he sometimes makes when Turnus shall wish that he had left use of, that he was acquainted with the the body of Pallas untouched, and curse whole circle of arts and sciences. the day on which he dressed himself in If in the last place we consider the lanthese spoils.'. As the great event of the guage of this great poet, we must allow Æneid, and the death of Turnus, whom what I have hinted in a former paper, that Æneas slew because he saw him adorned it is often too much laboured, and somewith the spoils of Pallas, turns upon this times obscured by old words, transposiincident, Virgil went out of his way to tions, and foreign idioms. Seneca's objecmake this reflection upon it, without which tion to the style of a great author, :Riget so small a circumstance might possibly ejus oratio, nihil in ea placidum, nihil lene,' have slipped out of his reader's memory. is what many critics make to Milton. As Lucan, who was an injudicious poet, lets I cannot wholly refute it, so I have already drop his story very frequently for the sake apologized for it in another paper: to which of his unnecessary digressions, or his diver- I may further add, that Milton's sentiments ticula, as Scaliger calls them. If he gives and ideas were so wonderfully sublime, that it us an account of the prodigies which pre-would have been impossible for him to have ceded the civil war, he declaims upon the represented them in their full strength and occasion, and shows how much happier it beauty, without having recourse to these would be for man, if he did not feel his evil foreign assistances. Our language sunk fortune before it comes to pass; and suffer under him, and was unequal to that greatnot only by its real weight, but by the ap-ness of soul which furnished him with such prehension of it. Milton's complaint for glorious conceptions. his blindness, his panegyric on marriage, his A second fault in his language is, that he reflections on Adam and Eve's going naked, often affects a kind of jngle in his words, |