directly to the throne of Apollo. I do not before: I breathed a purer æther in a sky know whether I should even now have had which was a continued azure, gilded with the resolution to have demanded entrance perpetual sunshine. The two summits of at either of these doors, had I not seen a the mountain rose on each side, and formed peasant-like man (followed by a numerous in the midst a most delicious vale, the habiand lovely train of youths of both sexes) tation of the Muses, and of such as had cominsist upon entrance for all whom he led posed works worthy of immortality. Apollo up. He put me in mind of the country was seated upon a throne of gold, and for clown who is painted in the map for lead- a canopy an aged laurel spread its boughs ing prince Eugene over the Alps. He had and its shade over his head. His bow and a bundle of papers in his hand; and pro- quiver lay at his feet. He held his harp in ducing several, that he said were given to his hand, whilst the Muses round about him by hands which he knew Apollo would him celebrated with hymns his victory over allow as passes: among which, methought the serpent Python, and sometimes sung I saw some of my own writing; the whole in softer notes the loves of Leucothoe and assembly was admitted, and gave by their Daphnis. Homer, Virgil, and Milton were presence a new beauty and pleasure to seated the next to them. Behind were a these happy mansions. I found the man great number of others; among whom I was did not pretend to enter himself, but served surprised to see some in the habit of Lapas a kind of forester in the lawns, to direct landers, who notwithstanding the uncouthpassengers, who by their own merit, or in-ness of their dress had lately obtained a structions, he procured for them, had vir- place on the mountain. I saw Pindar walktue enough to travel that way. I looked very ing alone, no one daring to accost him, until attentively upon this kind homely benefac- Cowley joined himself to him; but, growing tor; and forgive me, Mr. Spectator, if I weary of one who almost walked him out own to you I took him for yourself. We of breath, he left him for Horace and were no sooner entered, but we were Anacreon, with whom he seemed infinitely sprinkled three times with the water of the delighted. fountain of Aganippe, which had power to Å little farther I saw another group of deliver us from all harms, but only envy, figures: I made up to them, and found it which reached even to the end of our jour- was Socrates dictating to Xenophon, and ney. We had not proceeded far in the the spirit of Plato; but most of all, Musæus middle path, when we arrived at the sum- had the greatest audience about him. I mit of the hill, where there immediately was at too great a distance to hear what he appeared to us two figures, which extremely said, or to discover the faces of his hearers; engaged my attention: the one was a young only I thought I now perceived Virgil, who nymph in the prime of her youth and had joined them, and stood in a posture full beauty; she had wings on her shoulders of admiration at the harmony of his words. and feet, and was able to transport herself Lastly, at the very brink of the hill, I to the most distant regions in the smallest saw Boccalini sending despatches to the space of time. She was continually varying world below of what happened upon Parher dress, sometimes into the most natural nassus; but I perceived he did it without and becoming habits in the world, and at leave of the Muses, and by stealth, and was others into the most wild and freakish garb unwilling to have them revised by Apollo. that can be imagined. There stood by her I could now, from this height and serene a man full aged and of great gravity, who sky, behold the infinite cares and anxieties corrected her inconsistencies by show- with which mortals below sought out their ing them in his mirror, and still flung her way through the maze of life. I saw the affected and unbecoming ornaments down path of Virtue lie straight before them, the mountain, which fell in the plain below, whilst Interest, or some malicious demon, and were gathered up and wore with great still hurried them out of the way. I was satisfaction by those that inhabited it. The at once touched with pleasure at my own name of this nymph was Fancy, the daugh- happiness, and compassion at the sight of ter of Liberty, the most beautiful of all the their inextricable errors. Here the two mountain nymphs: the other was Judg- contending passions rose so high, that they ment, the offspring of Time, and the only were inconsistent with the sweet repose I child' he acknowledged to be his. A youth, enjoyed; and, awaking with a sudden start, who sat upon a throne just between them, the only consolation I could admit of for my was their genuine offspring; his name was loss, was the hopes that this relation of my Wit, and his seat was composed of the dream will not displease you.' T. works of the most celebrated authors. I could not but see with a secret joy, that, though the Greeks and Romans made the No. 515.] Tuesday, October 21, 1712. majority, yet our own countrymen were Pudet mc et miseret, qui harum mores cantabat mihi the next both in number and dignity. I was now at liberty to take a full prospect I am ashamed and grieved, that I neglected his adof that delightful region. I was inspired vice, who gave me the character of these creatures. with new vigour and life, and saw every “MR. SPECTATOR,-I am obliged to you thing in nobler and more pleasing views than for printing the account I lately sent you of Monuisse frustra Ter. Heaut. Act ii. Sc. 3. 1 a coquette who disturbed a sober congre-them; I say, I do honour to those who can gation in the city of London. That intelli- be coquettes, and are not such; but I desgence ended at her taking a coach, and pise all who would be so, and, in despair of bidding the driver go where he knew. I arriving at it themselves, hate and vilify could not leave her so, but dogged her, as all those who can. But be that as it will, hard as she drove, to Paul's church-yard, in answer to your desire of knowing my where there was a stop of coaches attend- history: one of my chief present pleasures ing company coming out of the cathedral. is in country-dances; and in obedience to This gave me an opportunity to hold up a me, as well as the pleasure of coming up to crown to her coachman, who gave me the me, with a good grace, showing themselves signal that he would hurry on and make no in their address to others in my presence, haste, as you know the way is when they and the like opportunities, they are all favour a chase. By his many kind blun- proficients that way; and I had the happiders, driving against other coaches, and ness of being the other night where we slipping off some of his tackle, I could made six couple, and every woman's partkeep up with him, and lodged my fine lady ner a professed lover of mine. The wildest in the parish of St. James's. As I guessed, imagination cannot form to itself, on any when I first saw her at church, her busi- occasion, higher delight than I acknowness is to win hearts, and throw them away, ledge myself to have been in all that evenregarding nothing but the triumph. I have ing. I chose out of my admirers a set of had the happiness, by tracing her through men who must love me, and gave them all with whom I heard she was acquainted, partners of such of my own sex who most to find one who was intimate with a friend envied me. of mine, and to be introduced to her notice. “My way is, when any man who is my I have made so good a use of my time, as admirer pretends to give himself airs of to procure from that intimate of hers one of merit, as at this time a certain gentleman her letters, which she writ to her when in you know did, to mortify him by favouring the country. This epistle of her own may in his presence the most insignificant creaserve to alarm the world against her in or- ture I can find. At this ball I was led into dinary life, as mine, I hope, did those who the company by pretty Mr. Fanfly, who shall behold her at church. The letter was you know, is the most obsequious, wellwritten last winter to the lady who gave it shaped, well-bred woman's man in the me; and I doubt not but you will find it the town. I at first entrance declared him my soul of a happy self-loving dame, that partner if I danced at all; which put the takes all the admiration she can meet with, whole assembly into a grin, as forming no and returns none of it in love to her ad- terrors from such a rival. But we had not mirers. been long in the room before I overheard the meritorious gentleman above-mentioned “Dear JENNY,—I am glad to find you say, with an oath, There is no raillery in are likely to be disposed of in marriage so the thing, she certainly loves the puppy.' much to your approbation as you tell me. My gentleman, when we were dancing, You say you are afraid only of me, for I took an occasion to be very soft in his ogling shall laugh at your spouse's airs. I beg of upon a lady he danced with, and whom he you not to fear it, for I am too nice a dis- knew of all women I loved most to outshine. cerner to laugh at any, but whom most The contest began who could plague the other people think fine fellows; so that other most. I, who do not care a farthing your dear may bring you hither as soon as for him, had no hard task to outvex him. his horses are in case enough to appear in I made Fanfly, with a very little encouragetown, and you will be very safe against any ment, cut capers coupee, and then sink raillery you may apprehend from me; for 1 with all the air and tenderness imaginable. am surrounded with coxcombs of my own When he performed this, I observed the making, who are all ridiculous in a manner gentleman you know of, fall into the same wherein your good man, I presume, cannot way, and imitate as well as he could the exert himself. As men who cannot raise despised Fanfly. I cannot well give you, their fortunes, and are uneasy under the in- who are so grave a country lady, the idea capacity of shining in courts, rail at ambi- of the joy we have when we see a stubborn tion; so do awkward and insipid women, heart breaking, or a man of sense turning who cannot warm the hearts, and charm fool for our sakes; but this happened to our the eyes of men, rail at affectation: but she friend, and I expect his attendance whenthat has the joy of seeing a man's heart ever I go to church, to court, to the play, leap into his eyes at beholding her, is in no or the park. This is a sacrifice due to us pain for want of esteem among the crew of women of genius, who have the eloquence that part of her own sex, who have no of beauty, an easy mien. I mean by an easy spirit but that of envy, and no language but mien, one which can be on occasion easily that of malice. I do not in this, I hope, ex- affected: for I must tell you, dear Jenny, I press myself insensible of the merit of Leo- hold one maxim, which is an uncommon dacia, who lowers her beauty to all but her one, to wit, That our greatest charms are husband, and never spreads her charms owing to affectation. It is to that our arms but to gladden him who has a right to can lodge so quietly just over our hips, and the fan can play without any force or mo- 1 of meekness and charity, but by ascribing tion but just of the wrist. It is to affectation such effects to the ambition and corruption we owe the pensive attention of Deidamia of those who are so audacious with souls at a tragedy, the scornful approbation of full of fury, to serve at the altars of the Dulcimara at a comedy, and the lowly God of Peace. aspect of Lanquicelsa at a sermon. The massacres to which the church of "To tell you the plain truth, I know no Rome has animated the ordinary people, pleasure but in being admired, and have are dreadful instances of the truth of this yet never failed of attaining the approba-observation; and whoever reads the history tion of the man whose regard I had a mind of the Irish rebellion, and the cruelties to. You see all the men who make a figure which ensued thereupon, will be sufficiently in the world (as wise a look as they are convinced to what rage poor ignorants may pleased to put upon the matter) are moved be worked up by those who profess holiness by the same vanity as I am. What is there and become incendiaries, and, under the in ambition, but to make other people's dispensation of grace, promote evils abhorwills depend upon yours. This indeed is rent to nature. not to be aimed at by one who has a genius The subject and catastrophe, which deno higher than to think of being a very serve so well to be remarked by the progood housewife in a country gentleman's testant world, will, I doubt not, be confamily. The care of poultry and pigs are sidered by the reverend and learned prelate great enemies to the countenance: the that preaches to-morrow before many of vacant look of a fine lady is not to be pre- the descendants of those who perished on served, if she admits any thing to take up that lamentable day, in a manner suitable her thoughts but her own dear person. But to the occasion, and worthy his own great I interrupt you too long from your cares, virtue and eloquence. and myself from my conquests. I am, I shall not dwell upon it any farther, but madam, your most humble servant." only transcribe out of a little tract, called her friend's answer to this epistle, who is a nowned hero, William III. who rescued Give me leave, Mr. Spectator, to add the Christian Hero," published in 1701, what I find there in honour of the revery discreet ingenious woman.' that nation from the repetition of the same “DEAR GATTY,—I take your raillery in disasters. His late majesty, of glorious very good part, and am obliged to you for memory, and the most Christian king, are the free air with which you speak of your considered at the conclusion of that treatise own gayeties. But this is but a barren as heads of the protestant and Romansuperficial pleasure; for, indeed, Gatty, we catholic world in the following manner. are made for man; and in serious sadness I •There were not ever, before the entrance must tell you, whether you yourself know of the Christian name into the world, men it or no, all these gallantries tend to no who have maintained a more renowned carother end but to be a wife and a mother as riage, than the two great rivals who posfast as you can. I am, madam, your most sess the full fame of the present age, and obedient servant.” T. will be the theme and examination of the future. They are exactly formed by nature for those ends to which heaven seems to have sent them amongst us. Both animated No. 516.] Wednesday, October 22, 1712. with a restless desire of glory, but pursue Immortale odium, et nunquam sanabile vulnus: it by different means, and with different Inde furor vulgo, quod numina vicinorum motives. To one it consists in an extensive Odit uturque locus; quum solos credit habendog undisputed empire over his subjects, to the Esse deos, quos ipse colat. other in their rational and voluntary obeJud. Sat. v. 34. dience. Ones happiness is founded in their A grudge, time out of mind, begun, And mutually bequeathed from sire to son: want of power, the others in their want of Religious spite and pious spleen bred first desire to oppose him. The one enjoys the The quarrel which so long the bigots nurst: summit of fortune with the luxury of a Each calls the other's god a senseless stock; Persian, the other with the moderation of a His own divine. Spartan. One is made to oppress, the other Of all the monstrous passions and opi- to relieve the oppressed. The one is satisnions which have crept into the world, fied with the pomp and ostentation of power there is none so wonderful as that those to prefer and debase his inferiors; the other who profess the common name of Chris- delighted only with the cause and foundatians, should pursue each other with rancour tion of it to cherish and protect them. To and hatred for difference in their way of following the example of their Saviour. It * Steele, who was never insensible to his own faults seems so natural that all who pursue the and follies, but who never had courage to correct them, steps of any leader should form themselves is said to have written this little tract, while plunged in all the dissipation of a soldier's life, to serve the prir. after his manner, that it is impossible to poses of a private manual, and to have published it unaccount for effects so different from what der the hope that it would compel him to something we might expect from those who profess fortunately for him, it failed of its effect, and served themselves followers of the highest pattern / but to make his errors the more conspicuous VOL. II. Tate, 36 one therefore religion is but a convenient template on Him "whose yoke is easy and disguise, to the other a vigorous motive of whose burden is light. action. With a tyranny begun on his own sub*For, without such ties of real and solid jects, and indignation that others draw their honour, there is no way of forming a mo- breath independent of his frown or smile, narch, but after the Machiavelian scheme, why should he not proceed to the seizure by which a prince must seem to have all of the world? And if nothing but the thirst virtues, but really be master of none; he is of sway were the motive of his actions, to be liberal, merciful, and just, only as why should treatises be other than mere they serve his interests; while, with the words, or solemn national compacts be any noble art of hypocrisy, empire would be to thing but a halt in the march of that army, be extended, and new conquests be made who are never to lay down their arms until by new devices, by which prompt address all men are reduced to the necessity of his creatures might insensibly give law in hanging their lives on his wayward will; the business of life, by leading men in the who might supinely, and at leisure, expiate entertainment of it. his own sins by other men's sufferings, while • Thus, when words and show are apt to he daily meditates new slaughter and conpass for the substantial things they are only quests? to express, there would need no more to 'For mere man, when giddy with unenslave a country but to adorn a court; for bridled power, is an insatiate idol, not to while every man's vanity makes him be- be appeased with myriads offered to his lieve himself capable of becoming luxury, pride, which may be puffed up by the aduenjoyments are a ready bait for sufferings, Iation of a base and prostrate world into an and the hopes of preferment invitations to opinion that he is something more than servitude; which slavery would be coloured human, by being something less: and, alas, with all the agreements, as they call it, what is there that mortal man will not beimaginable. The noblest arts and artists, lieve of himself, when complimented with the finest pens and most elegant minds, the attributes of God? He can then conjointly employed to set it off with the vari- ceive thoughts of a power as omnipresent ous embellishments of sumptuous entertain- as his. But, should there be such a foe ments, charming assemblies, and polished of mankind now upon earth, have our sins discourses, and those apostate abilities of so far provoked Heaven, that we are left men, the adored monarch might profusely utterly naked to his fury? Is there no power, and skilfully encourage, while they flatter no leader, no genius, that can conduct and his virtue, and gild his vice at so high a animate us to our death, or to our defence? rate, that he, without scorn of the one, or Yes; our great God never gave one to reign love of the other, would alternately and by his permission, but he gave to another occasionally use both; so that his bounty also to reign by his grace. should support him in his rapines, his mercy *All the circumstances of the illustrious in his cruelties. life of our prince seem to have conspired to . Nor is it to give things a more severe make him the check and bridle of tyranny; look, than is natural, to suppose such must for his mind has been strengthened and be the consequences of a prince's having no confirmed by one continued struggle, and other pursuit than that of his own glory; Heaven has educated him by adversity to for if we consider an infant born into the a quick sense of the distresses and miseries world, and beholding itself the mightiest of mankind, which he was born to redress. thing in it, itself the present admiration and In just scorn of the trivial glories and light future prospect of a fawning people, who ostentations of power, that glorious instruprofess themselves great or mean, accord- ment of Providence moves, like that, in a ing to the figure he is to make amongst steady, calm, and silent course, indepenthem, what fancy would not be debauched dent either of applause or calumny; which to believe they were but what they pro- renders him, if not in a political, yet in a fessed themselves-his mere creatures; and moral, a philosophic, an heroic, and a Chrisuse them as such by purchasing with their tian sense, an absolute monarch: who, salives a boundless renown, which he, for tisfied with this unchangeable, just, and want of a more just prospect, would place ample glory, must needs turn all his regards in the number of his slaves, and the extent from himself to the service of others; for of his territories? Such undoubtedly would he begins his enterprise with his own share be the tragical effects of a prince's living in the success of them; for integrity bears with no religion, which are not to be sur- in itself its reward, nor can that which passed but by his having a false one. depends not on event, ever know disap “If ambition were spirited with zeal, what pointment. would follow, but that his people should be .With the undoubted character of a gloconverted into an army, whose swords can rious captain, and (what he much more make right in power, and solve controversy values than the most splendid titles,) that in belief? And if men should be stiff-necked of a sincere and honest man, he is the hope to the doctrine of that visible church, let and stay of Europe, an universal good; not them be contented with an oar and a chain, to be engrossed by us only, for distant poin the midst of stripes and anguish, to con- | tentates implore his friendship, and injured Gloria empires court his assistance. He rules the wronged by a neighbouring gentleman; for world, not by an invasion of the people of you know, sir, my good master was always the earth, but the address of its princes; the poor man's friend. Upon his coming and, if that world should be again roused home, the first complaint he made was, from the repose which his prevailing arms that he had lost his roast-beef stomach, not had given it, why should we not hope that being able to touch a sirloin, which was there is an Almighty, by, whose influence served up according to custom; and you the terrible enemy that thinks himself pre- know he used to take great delight in it. pared for battle may find he is but ripe for From that time forward he grew worse and destruction?—and that there may be in the worse, but still kept a good heart to the womb of time great incidents, which may last. Indeed we were once in great hope make the catastrophe of a prosperous life of his recovery, upon a kind message that as unfortunate as the particular scenes of it was sent him from the widow lady whom were successful?—for there does not want he had made love to the forty last years of a skilful eye and resolute arm to observe his life; but this only proved a lightning and grasp the occasion. A prince, who before death. He has bequeathed to this from lady, as a token of his love, a great pearl -Fuit Illium et ingens necklace, and a couple of silver bracelets Virg. Æn. ii. 325. set with jewels, which belonged to my good Troy is no more, and Illium was a town. old lady' his mother. He has bequeathed Dryden. the fine white gelding that he used to ride T. a hunting upon to his chaplain, because he thought he would be kind to him; and has left you all his books. He has, moreover, No. 517.] Thursday, October 23, 1712. bequeathed to the chaplain a very pretty Heu pietas! heu prisca fides! tenement with good lands about it. It be Virg. Æn. vi. 878. ing a very cold day when he made his will, Mirror of ancient faith! he left for mourning to every man in the Undaunted worth! Inviolable truth!-Dryden. parish, a great frieze-coat, and to every WE last night received a piece of ill news woman a black riding-hood. It was a movat our club, which very sensibly afflicted ing sight to see him take leave of his poor I question not but my whilst we were not able to speak a word every one of us. servants, commending us all for our fidelity, readers themselves will be troubled at the for weeping. As we most of us are grown hearing of it. To keep them no longer in suspense, Sir Roger de Coverley is dead.gray-headed in our dear master's service, He departed this life at his house in the he has left us pensions and legacies, which we may live very comfortably, upon the country, after a few weeks sickness. Sir Andrew Freeport has a letter from one of remaining part of our days. He has behis correspondents in those parts, that in- queathed a great deal more in charity, forms him the old man caught a cold at the and it is peremptorily said in the parish, that which is not yet come to my knowledge, county-sessions, as he was very warmly he has left money to build a steeple to the promoting an address of his own penning, church; for he was heard to say some time in which he succeeded according to his wishes. But this particular comes from a Coverley church should have a steeple to ago, that, if he lived two years longer, whig justice of peace, who was always Sir it. The chaplain tells every body that he Roger's cnemy and antagonist . I have let- made a very good end, and never speaks ters both from the chaplain and captain of him without tears. He was buried, acSentry, which mention nothing of it, but are filled with many particulars to the ho-cording to his own directions, among the nour of the good old man. I have likewise family of the Coverleys, on the left hand of his father Sir Arthur. The coffin was a letter from the butler, who took so much carried by six of his tenants, and the pall care of me last summer when I was at the held up by six of the quorum. The whole knight's house. As my friend the butler parish followed the corpse with heavy mentions, in the simplicity of his heart, se, hearts and in their mourning suits; the men veral circumstances the others have passed in frieze, and the women in riding-hoods. over in silence, I shall give my reader a copy of his letter, without any alteration or taken possession of the Hall-house, and the Captain Sentry, my master's nephew, has diminution. whole estate. When my old master saw • HONOURED SIR,-Knowing that you him, a little before his death, he shook him was my old master's good friend, I could not by the hand, and wished him joy of the forbear sending you the melancholy news estate which was falling to him, desiring of his death, which has afflicted the whole him only to make a good use of it, and to country, as well as his poor servants, who pay the several legacies, and the gifts of loved him, I may say, better than we did charity, which he told him he had left as our lives. I am afraid he caught his death quit-rents upon the estate. The captain the last county-sessions, where he would go truly seems a courteous man, though he to see justice done to a poor widow woman, says but little. He makes much of those and her fatherless children, that had been I whom my master loved, and shows great |