The ex to combat with criminals in a body, and to assault represents an empty rake, in one of his plays, as T This debate, which was held for the good of of windows, was not humour; and question not mankind, put me in mind of that which the Roman but several English readers will be as much startled triumvirate were formerly engaged in for their de to hear me affirm, that many of those raving instruction. Every man at first stood hard for his coherent pieces, which are often spread among us, friend, till they found that by this means they under odd chimerical titles, are rather the offshould spoil the proscription: and at length, mak- springs of a distempered brain than works of huing a sacrifice of all their acquaintance and rela- mour. tions, furnished out a very decent execution. It is indeed much easier to describe what is not Having thus taken my resolutions to march on humour, than what is; and very difficult to define boldly in the cause of virtue and good sense, and it otherwise than as Cowley has done wit, by neto annoy their adversaries in whatever degree gatives. Were I to give my own notions of it, I or rank of men they may be found; I shall be would deliver them after Plato's manner, in a deaf for the future to all the remonstrances that kind of allegory, and by supposing Humour to be a shall be made to me on this account. If Punch person, deduce to him all his qualifications, acgrows extravagant, I shall reprimand him very cording to the following genealogy. Truth was freely. If the stage becomes a nursery of folly the founder of the family, and the father of Good and impertinence, I shall not be afraid to animad- Sense. Good Sense was the father of Wit, who vert upon it. In short, if I meet with any thing married a lady of collateral line called Mirth, by in city, court, or country, that shocks modesty or whom he had issue Humour. Humour therefore good manners, I shall use my utmost endeavours being the youngest of this illustrious family, and to make an example of it. I must, however, in. descended from parents of such different dispositreat every particular person, who does me the tions, is very various and unequal in his temper; honour to be a reader of this paper, never to think sometimes you see him putting on grave looks and himself, or any one of his friends or enemies, aim- a solemn habit, sometimes airy in his behaviour ed at in what is said: for I promise him, never to and fantastic in his dress; insomuch that at difdraw a faulty character which does not fit at least ferent times he appears as serious as a judge, and a thousand people; or to publish a single paper, as jocular as a merry andrew. But as he has a that is not written in the spirit of benevolence, great deal of the mother in his constitution, whatand with a love to mankind. ever mode he is in, he never fails to make his company laugh. ADDISON. N° 35. TUESDAY, APRIL 10, 1711. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est. Nothing so foolish as the laugh of fools. C. But since there is an impostor abroad, who takes upon him the name of this young gentleman, and would willingly pass for him in the world; to the end that well-meaning persons may not be imposed upon by cheats, beats, I would desire my readers, when they meet with this pretender, to look into his parentage, and to examine him strictly, whether or Axong all kinds of writing there is none in which scended from Good Sense; if not, they may conno he be remotely allied to Truth, and lineally deauthors are more apt to miscarry than in works of clude him a counterfeit. They may likewise dishumour, as there are none in which they are more tinguish him by a loud and excessive laughter, in ambitious to excel. It is not an imagination that which he seldom gets his company to join with teems with monsters, an head that is filled with him. For as True Humour generally looks seriextravagant conceptions, which is capable of fur-ous, while every body laughs about him; False nishing the world with diversions of this nature; Humour is always laughing, whilst every body and yet, if we look into the productions of several about him looks serious. I shall only add, if he writers, who set up for men of humour, what wild has not in him a mixture of both parents, that is, irregular fancies, what unnatural distortions of if he would pass for the offspring of Wit without thought do we meet with? ? If they speak nonsense, Mirth, or Mirth without Wit, you may conclude they believe they are talking humour; and when him to be altogether spurious and a cheat. they have drawn together a scheme of absurd, in- The impostor of whom I am speaking, descends consistent ideas, they are not able to read it over originally from Falsehood, who was the mother of to themselves without laughing. These poor gen- Nonsense, who was brought to bed of a son called tlemen endeavour to gain themselves the reputa- Frenzy, who married one of the daughters of tion of wits and humourists, by such monstrous Folly, commonly known by the name of Laughconceits as almost qualify them for Bedlam; not ter, on whom he begot that monstrous infant of considering that humour should always lie under which I have here been speaking. I shall set down the check of reason, and that it requires the direcat length the genealogical table of False Humour, dan of the nicest judgment, by so much the more and, at the same time, place under it the genealogy : asit indulges itself in the most boundless freedoms. of True Humour, that the reader may at one view There is a kind of nature that is to be observed in behold their different pedigrees and relations. this sort of compositions, as well as in all other; and a certain regularity of thought which must discover the writer to be a man of sense, at the same : time that he appears altogether given up to caprice. For my part, when I read the delirious mirth of an unskilful author, I cannot be so barbarous as to divert myself with it, but am rather apt to pity the man, than laugh at any thing he writes. The deceased Mr. Shadwell, who had himself a great deal of the talent which I am treating of, G Falsehood. I might extend the allegory, by mentioning seve- portunity to part with every thing which does not ral of the children of False Humour, who are more contribute to the representation of human life; and in number than the sands of the sea, and might in shall make a free gift of all animated utensils to particular enumerate the many sons and daughters your projector. The hangings you formerly menwhich he has begot in this island. But as this tioned are run away; as are likewise a set of would be a very invidious task, I shall only observe in general, that False Humour differs from the True, as a monkey does from a man. First of all, He is exceedingly given to little apish tricks and buffooneries. Secondly, He so much delights in mimicry, that it is all one to him whether he exposes by it vice and folly, luxury and avarice; or, on the contrary, virtue and wisdom, pain and poverty. chairs, each of which was met upon two legs going through the Rose Tavern at two this morning. We hope, sir, you will give proper notice to the town that we are endeavouring at these regulations; and that we intend for the future to show no monsters, but men who are converted into such by their own industry and affectation. If you will please to be at the house to night, you will see me do my endeavour to show some unnatural appearances which are in vogue among the polite and well-bred. I am to present, in the character of a fine lady dancing, all the distortions which are frequently taken for graces in mien and gesture. This, sir, is a specimen of the method we shall take to expose the monsters which come within the notice of a regular theatre; and we desire nothing more gross may be admitted by you Spectators for the future. Fifunly, Being incapable of having any thing We have cashiered three companies of theatrical but mock representations, his ridicule is always guards, and design our kings shall for the future kings personal, and aimed at the vicious man, or the make love, and sit in council, without an army; and writer; not at the vice, or the writing. wait only your direction, whether you will have Thirdly, He is wonderfully unlucky, insomuch that he will bite the hand that feeds him, and endeavour to ridicule both friends and foes indifferently. For having but small talents he must be merry where he can, not where he should. Fourthly, Being entirely void of reason, he pursues no point either of morality or instruction, but is ludicrous only for the sake of being so. I have here only pointed at the whole species of them reinforce King Porus, or join the troops of false humourists; but as one of my principal de- Macedon. Mr. Penkethman resolves to consult his signs in this paper is to beat down that malignant pantheon of heathen gods in opposition to the oraspirit which discovers itself in the writings of the cle of Delphos, and doubts not but he shall turn the present age, I shall not scruple, for the future, to fortune of Porus, when he personates him. I am single out any of the small wits, that infest the world desired by the company to inform you, that they with such compositions as are ill-natured, immoral, submit to your censures; and shall have you in and absurd. This is the only exception which I greater veneration than Hercules was of old, if shall make to the general rule I have prescribed you can drive monsters from the theatre; and think myself, of attacking multitudes, since every ho- your merit will be as much greater than his, as to nest man ought to look upon himself as in a natu- convince is more than to conquer. ral state of war with the libeller and lampooner, and to annoy them wherever they fall in his way. This is but retaliating upon them, and treating them as they treat others. C. VIRG. Æn. iii. 583. Things the most out of nature we endure. I SHALL not put myself to any further pains for this day's entertainment, than barely to publish the let ters and titles of petitions from the playhouse, with the minutes I have made upon the latter for my conduct in relation to them. 'Drury Lane, April the 9th. 'SIE, 'I am, SIR, 'Your most obedient servant, 'T. D.' 'WHEN I acquaint you with the great and unexpected vicissitudes of my fortune, I doubt not but I shall obtain your pity and favour. I have for many years past been Thunderer to the playhouse; and have not only made as much noise out of the clouds as any predecessor of mine in the theatre that ever bore that character, but also have descended and spoke on the stage as the bold Thunder in The Rehearsal. When they got me down thus low, they thought fit to degrade me further, and make me a ghost. I was contented with this for these two last winters; but they carry their tyranny still further, and not satisfied that I am banished from above ground, they have given me to understand that I am wholly to depart their dominions, and taken from me even my subterraneous employment. Now, sir, what I desire of you is, that if your undertaker thinks fit to use fire-arms (as other authors have done) in the time * Uron reading the project which is set forth in one of your late papers, of making an alliance be- of Alexander, I may be a cannon against Porus, tween all the bulls, bears, elephants, and lions, or else provide for me in the burning of Persepowhich are separately exposed to public view in the lis, or what other method you shall think fit. cities of London and Westminster; together with the SALMONEUS OF COVENT-GARDEN.' other wonders, shows, and monsters, whereof you made respective mention in the said speculation; The petition of all the Devils of the playhouse we, the chief actors of this playhouse, met and in behalf of themselves and families, setting forth sat upon the said design. It is with great delight their expulsion from thence, with certificates of that we expect the execution of this work; and in their good life and conversation, and praying re order to contribute to it, we have given warning to lief. all our ghosts to get their livelihoods where they The merit of this petition referred to Mr. Chr. can, and not to appear among us after day-break of Rich, who made them devils. the 16th instant. We are resolved to take this op • See No. 31. See Tat. Nos, 42 and 99. Des e and sis to y me 235 gong g. We Le tow: sand etate hec d t The petition of the Grave-digger in Hamlet, toj certain lady, whom I shall here call by the name command the Pioneers in the expedition of Alex- of Leonora, and as it contained matters of conander. Granted. sequence, desired me to deliver it to her with my own hand. Accordingly I waited upon her ladyship pretty early in the morning, and was desired The petition of William Bullock, to be He-by her woman to walk into her lady's library, phestion to Penkethman the Great.f ADVERTISEMENT. till such time as she was in readiness to receive me. The very sound of a lady's library gave me a great curiosity to see it; and as it was some time before the lady came to me, I had an opportunity of turning over a great many of her books, which A widow gentlewoman, well born both by father were ranged together in a very beautiful order. At and wother's side, being the daughter of Thomas the end of the folios (which were finely bound and Prater, once an eminent practitioner in the law, and gilt) were great jars of china placed one above of Letitia Tattle, a family well known in all parts of another in a very noble piece of architecture.f this kingdom, having been reduced by misfortunes to The quartos were separated from the octavos by a wait on several great persons, and for some time to be a pile of smaller vessels, which rose in a delighful toncher at a boarding-school of young ladies, giveth pyramid. The octavos were bounded by teanotice to the public, that she hath lately taken a house dishes of all shapes, colours, and sizes, which were near Bloomsbury-square, commodiously situated next so disposed on a wooden frame, that they looked the fields, in a good air; where she teaches all sorts of like one continued pillar indented with the finest birds of the loquacious kinds, as parrots, starlings, strokes of sculpture, and stained with the greatest magpies, and others, to imitate human voices in greater variety of dyes. That part of the library which pe fiction than ever was yet practised. They are not was designed for the reception of plays and sily instructed to pronounce words distinctly, and in a pamphlets, and other loose papers, was enclosed proper tone and accent, but to speak the language with in a kind of square, consisting of one of the pretgreat purity and volubility of tongue, together with all tiest grotesque works that I ever saw, and made the fastaonable phrases and compliments now in use up of scaramouches, lious, monkies, mandarines, either at tea-tables, or visiting days. Those that have trees, shells, and a thousand other odd figures in good voices may be taught to sing the newest opera-airs, china ware. In the midst of the room was a little and if required, to speak either Italian or French, pay- japan table, with a quire of gilt paper upon it, ing something extraordinary above the common rates. and on the paper a silver snuff-box made in the They whose friends are not able to pay the full prices, shape of a little book. I found there were sevemay be taken as half boarders. She teaches such as ralother counterfeit books upon the upper shelves, are designed for the diversion of the public, and to act which were carved in wood, and served only to fill in enchanted woods on the theatres, by the great. As up the numbers like faggots in the muster of a whe has often observed with much concern how indecent regiment. I was wonderfully pleased with such a an education is usualy given these innocent creatures, mixed kind of furniture, as seemed very suitable which in some measure is owing to their being placed in both to the lady and the scholar, and did not know rooms next the street, where, to the great offence of at first whether I should fancy myself in a grotto, chave and tender ears, they learn ribaidry, obscene or in a library. nga, and immodest expressions, from passengers and Upon my looking into the books, I found there ille pespie, as also to cry fish and card-matches, with were some few which the lady had bought for her other üseless parts of learning to birds who have rich own use, but that most of them had been got tofriends, she has fitted up proper and neat apartments for gether, either because she had heard them praisthem in the back of her said house: where she suffers ed, or because she had seen the authors of them. ume to approach them but herself, and a servant maid Among several that I examined, I very well re who is deaf and dumb, and whom she provided on pur pose to prepare their food, and cleanse their cages; hav ing found by long experience how hard a thing it is for thase to keep silence who have the use of speech, and the dangers her scholars are exposed to, by the strong impressions that are made by harsh sounds, and vulgar Balecte. In short, if they are birds of any parts or capacity, she will undertake to render them so accomplished in the compass of a twelvemonth, that they shall be conversation for such ladies as love to choose their friends and companions out of this species. STEELE. R. Sour months ago, my friend Sir Roger, being in the country, enclosed a letter to me, directed to a See No. 44, and Tat. Nos. 7 and 188. *See Nos. 31 and 370, and Tat, Nos. 4, 7, 20, and 188. member these that follow : Nos. 92, 140, and 163, + See Tat. No. 23. A set of Elzevirs by the same hand. describes two lovers in a bower. The Ladies Calling. her sex, who employ themselves in diversions that Tales in Verse, by Mr. Durfey; bound in red are less reasonable, though more in fashion ? What leather, gilt on the back, and doubled down in several places. All the Classic Authors in wood. improvements would a woman have made, who is so susceptible of impressions from what she reads, had she been guided to such books as have a tendency to enlighten the understanding and rectify more use than to divert the imagination? But the manner of a lady's employing herself usefully in reading, shall be the subject of another paper, in which I design to recommend such particular books as may be proper for the improvement of the sex. And as this is a subject of a very nice nature, I shall desire my correspondents to give me their thoughts upon it. ADDISON. C. N° 38. FRIDAY, APRIL 13, 1711. -Cupias non placuisse nimis. MART. One would not please too much. I was taking a catalogue in my pocket-book of these, and several other authors, when Leonora entered, and upon my presenting her with a letter from the knight, told me, with an unspeakable grace, that she hoped Sir Roger was in good health: A LATE conversation which I fell into, gave me alth 1 answered Yes, for I hate long speeches, and an opportunity of observing a great deal of beauty after a bow or two retired. in a very handsome woman, and as much wit in an Leonora was formerly a celebrated beauty, and ingenious man, turned into deformity in the one, is still a very lovely woman. She has been a widow and absurdity in the other, by the mere force of for two or three years, and being unfortunate in affectation. The fair one had something in her her first marriage, has taken a resolution never to person upon which her thoughts were fixed, that venture upon a second. She has no children to she attempted to show to advantage in every look, take care of, and leaves the management of her word, and gesture. The gentleman was as diligent estate to my good friend Sir Roger. But as the to do justice to his fine parts, as the lady to her mind naturally sinks into a kind of lethargy, and beauteous form. You might see his imagination falls asleep, that is not agitated by some favourite on the stretch to find out something uncommon, pleasures and pursuits, Leonora has turned all the and what they call bright, to entertain her, while passion of her sex into a love of books and retire- she writhed herself into as many different postures ment. She converses chiefly with men (as she has to engage him. When she laughed, her lips were often said herself), but it is only in their writings; to sever at a greater distance than ordinary, to and admits of very few male visitants, except my show her teeth; her fan was to point to something friend Sir Roger, whom she hears with great plea- at a distance, that in the reach she might discover sure, and without scandal. As her reading has the roundness of her arm; then she is utterly mislain very much among romances, it has given her taken in what she saw, falfs back, smiles at her a very particular turn of thinking, and discovers own folly, and is so wholly discomposed, that her itself even in her house, her gardens, and her fur- tucker is to be adjusted, her bosom exposed, and niture. Sir Roger has entertained me an hour the whole woman put into new airs and graces. together with a description of her country seat, While she was doing all this, the gallant had time which is situated in a kind of wilderness, about an to think of something very pleasant to say next to hundred miles distant from London, and looks like her, or make some unkind observation on some a little enchanted palace. The rocks about her other lady, to feed her vanity. These unhappy are shaped into artificial grottos covered with effects of affectation naturally led me to look woodbines and jessamines. The woods are cut into that strange state of mind which so geneinto shady walks, twisted into bowers, and filled rally discolours the behaviour of most people we with cages of turtles. The springs are made to meet with. run among pebbles, and by that means taught to The learned Dr. Burnet, in his Theory of the murmur very agreeably. They are likewise col- Earth, takes occasion to observe, that every thought lected into a beautiful lake that is inhabited by is attended with consciousness and representativea couple of swans, and empties itself by a little ness; the mind has nothing presented to it but rivulet which runs through a green meadow, and what is immediately followed by a reflection of is known in the family by the name of The Purl- conscience, which tells you whether that which was ing Stream. The knight likewise tells me, that this so presented is graceful or unbecoming. This act lady preserves her game better than any of the of the mind discovers itself in the gesture, by a gentlemen in the country, not (says Sir Roger) that proper behaviour in those whose consciousness she sets so great a value upon her partridges and goes no further than to direct them in the just propheasants, as upon her larks and nightingales. gress of their present state or action: but betrays For she says that every bird which is killed in an interruption in every second thought, when her ground will spoil a concert, and that she shall the consciousness is employed in too fondly ap certainly miss him the next year. proving a man's own conceptions; which sort of When I think how oddly this lady is improved consciousness is what we call affectation. by learning, I look upon her with a mixture of As the love of praise is implanted in our bosoms admiration and pity. Amidst these innocent en-as a strong incentive to worthy actions, it is a very tertainments which she has formed to herself, how difficult task to get above a desire of it for things much more valuable does she appear than those of that should be wholly indifferent. Women, whose hearts are fixed upon the pleasure they have in the It might be borne even here, but it often ascends consciousness that they are the objects of love and the pulpit itself; and the declaimer, in that sacred admiration, are ever changing the air of their coun- place, is frequently so impertinently witty, speaks tenances, and altering the attitude of their bodies, of the last day itself with so many quaint phrases, to strike the hearts of their beholders with new that there is no man who understands raillery, but sense of their beauty. The dressing part of our must resolve to sin no more. Nay, you may behold sex, whose minds are the same with the sillier part him sometimes in prayer, for a proper delivery of of the other, are exactly in the like uneasy condi- the great truths he is to utter, humble himself with ig hese tion to be regarded for a well-tied cravat, an hat so very well-turned phrase, and mention his own of another cocked with an uncommon briskness, a very well unworthiness in a way so very becoming, that the such pr chosen coat, or other instances of merit, which they air of the pretty gentleman is preserved, under the mprare impatient to see unobserved. lowliness of the preacher. ject of This apparent affectation, arising from an ill- I shall end this with a short letter I writ the Sponder governed consciousness, is not so much to be won- other day to a very witty man, overrun with the 11. gave wha the t dered at in such loose and trivial minds as these: fault I am speaking of: C. but when we see it reign in characters of worth and distinction, it is what you cannot but lament, 'DEAR SIR, not without some indignation. It creeps into the 'I SPENT some time with you the other day, and heart of the wise man as well as that of the cox- must take the liberty of a friend to tell you of the comb. When you see a man of sense look about unsufferable affectation you are guilty of in all you for applause, and discover an itching inclination to say and do. When I gave you an hint of it, you be commended; lay traps for a little incense, even asked me whether a man is to be cold to what his from those whose opinion he values in nothing but friends think of him? No, but praise is not to be his own favour; who is safe against this weakness? the entertainment of every moment. He that hopes or who knows whether he is guilty of it or not? for it must be able to suspend the possession of it The best way to get clear of such a light fondness till proper periods of life, or death itself. If you for applause, is to take all possible care to throw would not rather be commended than be praiseoff the love of it upon occasions that are not in worthy, contemn little merits; and allow no man themselves laudable, but as it appears, we hope for to be so free with you, as to praise you to your no praise from them. Of this nature are all graces face. Your vanity by this means will want its in men's persons, dress, and bodily deportment, food. At the same time your passion for esteem which will naturally be winning and attractive if will be more fully gratified; men will praise you we think not of them, but lose their force in pro- in their actions; where you now receive one comportion to our endeavour to make them such. pliment you will then receive twenty civilities. When our consciousness turns upon the main de- Till then you will never have of either, further than, sign of life, and our thoughts are employed upon the chief purpose either in business or pleasure, we shall never betray an affectation, for we cannot be guilty of it: but when we give the passion for praise an unbridled liberty, our pleasure in little perfections robs us of what is due to us for great virtues and worthy qualities. How many excellent speeches and honest actions are lost, for want of being indifferent where we ought? Men are oppressed with regard to their way of speaking and acting, instead of having their thoughts bent upon what they should do or say; and by that means bury a capacity for great things, by their fear of faling in indifferent things. This, perhaps, cannot be called affectation; but it has some tincture of STEELE. 'SIR, Your humble servant, T. 4 at least so far as that their fear of erring in a As a perfect tragedy is the noblest production of thing of no consequence, argues they would be too human nature, so it is capable of giving the mind much pleased in performing it. one of the most delightful and most improving enIt is only from a thorough disregard to himself tertainments. A virtuous man (says Seneca) strugn such particulars, that a man can act with a gling with misfortunes, is such a spectacle as gods audable sufficiency: his heart is fixed upon one might look upon with pleasure; and such a pleapoint in view; and he commits no errors, because sure it is which one meets with in the representabe thinks nothing an error but what deviates from tion of a well-written tragedy. Diversions of this kind wear out of our thoughts every thing that is I that intention. The wild havoc affectation makes in that part of mean and little. They cherish and cultivate that the world which should be most polite, is visible humanity which is the ornament of our nature. wherever we turn our eyes: it pushes men not only They soften insolence, sooth affliction, and subdue into impertinences in conversation, but also in their the mind to the dispensations of Providence. premeditated speeches. At the bar it torments the It is no wonder, therefore, that in all the polite bench, whose business it is to cut off all super nations of the world, this part of the drama has fluities in what is spoken before it by the practi- met with public encouragement. tioner; as well as several little pieces of injustice The modern tragedy excels that of Greece and which arise from the law itself. I have seen it Rome in the intricacy and disposition of the fable; make a man run from the purpose before a judge, but, what a Christian writer would be ashamed to who was, when at the bar himself, so close and own, falls infinitely short of it in the moral part of logical a pleader, that with all the pomp of elo- the performance. quence in his power, he never spoke a word too much, Probably Lord Chancellor Cowper. This I may show more at large hereafter; and in the mean time, that I may contribute something towards the improvement of the English de, |