« PreviousContinue »
This and the like circumstances, which
- Cum proftrata fopore
, & mets fine pondere ludit.
PETRO ' no obligation, but from a base passion, which
it is mean to indulge, and which it would be While Neep oppresses the tir'd limbs, the mind glorious to overcome.
Plays without weight, and wantons unconfin’d. These fort of fellows are very numerous, and some have been conspicuously such, without HOUGH there are many authors, who 'fhame; nay, they have carried on the jest in the have written on dreams, they have gene.
very article of death, and, to the diminution rally considered them only as revelations of what
of the wealth and happiness of their families, has already happened in distant parts of the "in bar of those honourably near to them, have world, or as presages of what is to happen in fum r left immense wealth to their paramours. What ture periods of time.
is this but being a cully in the grave ! Sure this I shall consider this subject in another light, as « is being hen-pecked with a vengeance! But dreams may give us some idea of the great exa ( without dwelling upon these less frequent in- cellency of a human soul, and some intimation of
stances of eminent cullyism, what is there so its independeney on matter. r common as to hear a fellow curse his fate that In the first place, our dreams are great in• he cannot get rid of a passion to a jilt, and stances of that activity which is natural to the
quote a half line out of a miscellany poemt human soul, and which it is not in the power of
prove his weakness is natural? If they will go sleep to deaden or abate. When the man ap. « on thus, I have nothing to say to it: but then pears tired and worn out with the labours of tho
let them not pretend to be free all this while, and day, this active part in his composition is still laugh at us as poor marriet patients.
bufied and unwearied. When the organs of . I have known one'wench in this town carry kense want their due repose and necessary repa*
a haughty dominion over her lovers so well, rations, and the body is no longer able to keep r that he has at the same time been kept by 'a pace with that spiritual substance to which it is • sea captain in the Straits, a merchant in the united, the soul exerts herself in several faculties,
city, a country gentleman in Hampshire, and and continues in action until her partner is again • had all her correspondences managed by one qualified to bear her company. In this case • The kept for her own uses. This happy man dreams look like the relaxations and amusements • (as the phrase is) used to write very punctually, of the soul, when she is disncumbered of her
every post, letters for the mistress to trans; machine, her sports and recreations, when the • fcribe.' He would fit in his night-gown and has laid her charge asleep.
Nippers, and be as grave giving an account, In the second place, dreams are an instance of
only changing names, that there was nothing that agility and perfection which is natural to • in those idle reports they had heard of such a the faculties of the mind, when they are dife • scoundrel as one of the other lovers was; and engaged from the body. The soul is clogged and o how could he think the could condescend so 'retarded in her operations, when the acts in • low, after such a fine gentleman as each of conjunction with a companion that is so heavy o them? For the same epistle said the same thing and unwieldy in its motions. But in dreams it • to and of every one of them. And so Mr. is wonderful to observe with what sprightliness • Secretary and his lady went to bed with great and alacrity fe exerts herself
. . The dow of 6 order.
speech make unpremeditated harangues, or con "To be short, Mr. Spectator, we husbands verse readily in languages that they are but litMhall never make the figure we ought in the tle acquainted with. The grave abound in plea. imaginations of young men growing up in the fantries, the dull in repartees and points of wit.
world, except you can bring it about that a There is not a more painful action of the mind, « man of the town thall be as infamous a cha. than invention; yet in dreams it works with
racter as a woman of the town. But of all that case and activity that we are not sensible « that I have met in my time, commend me to when the faculty is employed. For instance, I • Betty Duall; the is the wife of a sailor, and believe every one, fome time or other, dreams : « the kept miftress of a man of quality; me that he is reading papers, books, or letters: in
dwells with the latter during the sea-faring which case the invention prompts fo readily, that r of the former. The husband asks no questions, the mind is imposed upon, and mistakes its own • sees his apartments furnished with riches not suggestions for the compositions of another. "his, when he comes into port, and the lover I shall, under this head, quote a passage out
is as joyful as a man arrived at his haven when of the Religio Medici, in which the ingenious • the other puts to sea. Betty is the most emi author gives an account of himself in his dream. i hently victorious of any of her sex, and ought ing and his waking thoughts.“ We are some6 to stand recorded the only woman of the age in
" what more than ourselves in our fleéps, and " which the lives, who has possessed at the same
" the number of the body seems to be but the 7 time time two abused, and two contented,
“ waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense, 6 but the liberty of reason; and our waking con“ ceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps. " At my nativity my ascendant was the watery " sign of Scorpio: I was born in the planetary “ hour of Saturn, and I think I have a piece of “ that loaden planet in me. I am no way faces " tious, nor disposed for the misth and galliarD dan
dize of company; yet in one dream I can com ” whilst they are wake are in one common pose a whole comedy, behold the action, ap " world; but that each of them, when he is prchend the jelts, and laugh myself awake at asleep, is in a world of his own. The wak the conceits thereof. Were my memory as faith- ing man is conversant in the world of nature ; ful as my reason is then fruitful, I would never when he Neeps he retires to a private world that study but in my dreams; and this time also would is particular to himself. There seems something
I choose for my devotions; but our grosser me. in this consideration that intimates to us a natu“ mories have tlien so little hold of our abstracted ral grandeur and perfection in the soul, which is “ understandings, that they forget the story, and rather to be admired than explained.
can only relate to our awakened souls a con. I must not omit that argument for the excel, “ fused and broken tale of that that has passed. lency of the foul, which I have seen quoted out
-Thus it is observed that men sometimes, up- of Tertullian, namely, its power of divining in
on the hour of their departure, do speak and drea.rs. That several such divinations have been “ reason above themselves; for then the soul made, none can question, who believes the holy “ beginning to be freed from the ligaments of writings, or who has but the leaft degree of a
the body, begins to reason like herself, and to common historical faith; there being innumer. " discourse in a train above mortality.”
able instances of this nature in several authors, We may likewise observe in the third place, both ancient and modern, sacred and profane, that the passions affect the mind with greater Whether fuch dark prelages, fuch visions of the strength when we are asleep, than when we are night proceed froin any lãtent power in the soul, awake. Joy and sorrow give us more vigorous during this her ftate of abstraction, or from any sensations of pain or pleasure at this time, than communication with the Supreme Being, or any other. Devotion likewise, as the excellent from any operation of subordinate spirits, has author above-mentioned has hinted, is in a very been a great difpute among the learned; the matparticular manner heightened and infamed, when ter of fact is, I think, incontestible, and has been it rises in the soul at a time that the body is thus looked upon-as fut's by the greatest writers, who laid at rest. Every man's experience will inform.have been never fufpected either of superstition him in this matter, though it is very probable, or enthusiasm. that this may happen differently in different con "I do not fuppose, that the soul in these in. ftitutions. I fall conclude this head with the stances is intirely loose and unfettered from the two following problems, which I Thall leave to body; it is sufficient, if she is not so far sunk the folution of iny reader. Supposing a man al- and immersed in matter, not intangled and per. ways happy in his dreams, and miserable in his plexed in her operations, with such'motions of waking thoughts, and that his life was equally blood and spirits, as when the actuates the madivided between them, whether would he be more chine in its waking hours. The corporeal union happy or miserable? Were a man a king in his is Nackened enough to give the mind more play. dreams, and a beggar awake, and dreamed as The soul seems gathered within herself, and reconsequentially, and in as continued unbroken covers that spring which is broke and weakened, schemes as he thinks when awake, whether he when the operates more in concert with the would be in reality a king or a beggar, or rather body. whether he would not be both ?
The speculations I have here made, if they are There is another circumstance, which methinks not arguments, they are at least strong intima. gives us a very high idea of the nature of the tions, not only of the excellency of a human foul, in regard to what passes in dreams: I mean foul, but of its independence on the body; and that innumerable multitude and variety of ideas if they do not prove, do at least confirm these which then arise in her. Were that active and
two great points, which are established by many watchful being only conscious of her own exift- other reasons that are altogether unanswerable. ence at such a time, what a painful solitude
0 would her hours of Neep be! Were the foul senfible of her being alone in her Neeping moments, after the same manner that he is sensible of it No 488. while awake, the time would hang very heavy
FRIDAY, Sept. 12. on her, as it often actually does when me dreams Quanti cmptæ ? parvo. Quanti erga? Eto afibus. that she is in such folitude.
HoR. Sat. 3. 1. 2. ver. 136, Semperque relinqui
What doth it cost? Not much, upon my word. Sola fibi, semper longam incomitata videtur
How much, pray? Why, Two-Pence. TwoIre viam
Creccb: VIRG. Æn. 4. ver. 465,
pence! O Lord! She seems alone
that many of my readers would be better To wander in her Neep through ways unknown, pleased to pay three half-pence for my paper, Guideless and dark.
Dryden. than two-pence. The ingenious T, W. tells me,
that I have deprived him of the best part of his But this observation I only make by the way. breakfast, for that since the rise of my paper, he What I would here remark, is that wonderful is forced every morning to drink his dish of cof. power in the soul; of producing her own com fee by itself, without the addition of the Speciapany on these occasions. She converses with tor, that used to better than lace it. Eugenumberless beings of her own creation, and is nius informs me very obligingly, that be never Iransported into ten thousand scenes of her own thought he should have disliked any passage in raising. She is herself the theatre, the actor, and my paper, but that of late there have been two the beholder. This puts me in mind of a say- words in every one of them, which he could ing which I am infinitely pleased with, and which heartily with left out, viz. Price Two-Pence. I Plutarch afcribes to Heraclitus, " That all men have a letter from a soap-boiler, who ccndoles
with me very affectionately, upon the necesity first and second volumes. : As he is a person
I fhall conclude this paper with an epigram
very much commended, I wonder that ters have drawn me up a very handsome re "it
has not yet had a place in any of your papers;
On the SPECTATOR..
By Mr. TATE.
-Aliufque & idem
Hor. Carm. Sæc. V. IO.
HEN first the Tatler to a mute was
turn'd, young Lady Lætitia, who sent me this account,
« Great Britain for her Censor's silence mourn'd; will acquaint me with his name, I will insert it at length in one of my papers, if he desires it.'
« Robb’d of his sprightly beams, she wept the I should be very glad to find out any expe
night, dient that might alleviate the expence which
“ 'Till the Spectator rose, and blaz’d as bright. this my paper brings to any of my readers ; and,
" So the first man the sun's first setting view'd, in order to it, must propose two points to their
"And sigh’d, till circling day his joys renew'd, consideration. First, that if they retrench any
« Yet doubtful how that second son to name, the smallest particular in their ordinary expence,
si Whether a bright successor, or the same. it will easily make up the half-penny a day which
“ So we; but now from this suspente are freed, we have now under consideration. Let a lady
“ Since all agree, who both with judgment sacrifice but a single, ribbon to her morning
read, studies, and it will be sufficient : let a family
6. 'Tis the same fun, and does himself suceed.” burn but a candle a-night less than their usual number, and they may take in the Spectator without detriment to their private affairs.
In the next place, if the readers will not go to N° 489. SATURDAY, Sep. 28. the price of buying my papers by retail, 'et them have patience, and they may buy them in the Baluççe 17O péya obiyog 'Sxe dvoko. ном. lump, without the burthen of a tax upon them. The inighty force of ocean's troubled food. My speculations, when they are sold single, like, cherries upon the stick, are delights for the rich and wealthy; after some time, they come to
'ŞIR, , are every ordi
the pleasures of have a certain favour at their first appearance, 'find among the three sources of those plea. from several accidental circumstances of times fures which you have discovered, that greate place, and person, which they may lose if they are nofs is one. This has suggested to me the not taken early; but in this case every reader is to reason why, of all objects that I have ever consider, whether it is not better for him to be í fern, there is none which affects my imagina. half a year behind-hand with the fashionable and ction so much as the sea or ocean. I cannot polite part of the world, than to train himfelf see the heavings of this prodigious bulk of beyond his circumstances. My bookseller has waters, even in a calm, without a, very pleanow about ten thousand of the third and fourth fing aftonilhment; but when it is worked up volumes, which he is ready to publish, having in a tempert fo that the horizon on every side already disposed of as large an edition both of thg is nothing but foaming billows and floating
mountains, it is impossible to describe the
II. agreeable horror that rises from such a prospect. « In foreign realms and lands remote, A troubled ocean, to a man who sails upon • Supported by thy care, it, is, I think, the biggest object that he can " Through burning climes I'paffed unhurts see in motion, and consequently gives his ima." ? 66 And breath'd in tainted air. gination one of the highest kinds of pleasure
III. that can arise from greatness. I must confess, « Thy mercy sweeten'd every foil, it is impossible for me to survey this world of “ Made ev'ry region please : fuid matter, without thinking on the hand 6. The hoary Alpine hills it warm’d, that first poured it out, and made a proper chan “ And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas. nel for its reception. Such an object naturally
IV. raises in my thoughts the idea of an Almighty “ Think, O my soul, devoutly think, Being, and convinces me of his existence as « How with affrighted eyes, much as a metaphysical demonstration. The “ Thou saw'st the wide extended deep imagination pronapts the understanding, and, 66 In all its horrors rise !
by the greatness of the sensible object, produces ' in it the idea of a Being who is neither circum.' " Confusion dwelt in ev'ry face, scribed by time nor space.
" And fear in ev'ry heart; As I have made several voyages upon the sea, “ When waves on waves, and gulphs on gulphs, 6. I have often been toffed into storms, and on that « O’ercame the pilot's art. occafion have frequently reflected on the def.
VI. 'criptions of them in ancient poets. I remem
" Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord, «ber Longinus highly recommends one in Homer, « Thy mercy set me free, • because the poet has ot amused himself with " Whilst in the confidence of pray's « little fancies upon the occasion, as authors of “ My soul took hold on thee. an inferior genius, whom he mentions, had
VII. • done, but because he has gathered together those " For though in dreadful whirls we hung « circumftances which are the most apt to terrify « High on the broken wave, " the imagination, and which really happen in « 'I knew thou wert not now to hear, • the raging of a tempeft. It is for the same rea “ Nor impotent to save. "fon, that I prefer the following description of
6 Obedient to thy will; " that go down to the sea in ships, that do busi
66 The sea that roar'd at thy command, “ ness in great waters: these see the works of “ At thy command was still. " the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For
IX. “ he commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, " In midst of dangers, fears and death, “ which lifteth up the waters thereof: they « Thy goodness I'll adore,
mount up to the heaven, they go down again “ And praise thee for thy mercies past, " to the depths, their soul is melted because of “ And humbly hope for more. " trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger.
X. « like a drunken man, and are at their wits end. « My life, if thou prefery's my life, “ Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, “ Thy sacrifice shall be ; " and he bringeth them out of their distresses. « And death, if death must be my doom, " He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves “ Shall join my soul to thee." " thereof are still. Then they are glad, because “ they be quiet, so he bringeth them unto their " defired haven." • By the way, how much more comfortable,
N° 490. MONDAY, SEPT. 22. as well as rational, is this system of the Pfal.
Domus & placens uxor. • mist, than the pagan scheme in Virgil, and other
Hor. Od. 14. 1. 2. ver. 21., • poets, where one deity is represented as raising
Thy house and pleasing wife. CREECH. à storm, and another as laying it? Were we • only to consider the sublime in this piece of HAVE very long entertained an ambition to poetry,
what can be nobler than the idea it • gives us of the Supreme Being thus raising a delightful name in nature. If it be not so in it's tumult among the elements, and recovering self, all the wife part of mankind from the be• them out of their confusion, thus troubling and ginning of the world to this day has consented in • becalming nature?
an error : but our unhappiness in England has • Great painters do not only give us landskips been, that a few loose men of genius for pleasure, of gardens, groves, and meadows, but very have turned it all to the gratification of ungovern¢ often employ their pencils upon sea-pieces : í ed desires, in despite of good fense, form, and • could with you would follow their example. order; when, in truth, any satisfaction beyond • If this small sketch may deserve a place among the boundaries of reasong is but a step towards mada
your works, I shall accompany it with a divine nefs and folly. But is the sense of joy and ac« Ode, made by a gentleman upon the conclufion complishment of defire no way to be indulged or 6 of his travels,
attained ? and have we appetites given us not to :
be at all gratified? Yes certainly: marriage is an I.
inftitution calculated for a constant fcene of deCOW are thy fervants blest, O Lord ! light as much as our being is capable of. Two How sure is their defence !
persons who have chosen each other out of all the (* Eternal wisdom is their guide,
species, with design to be each other's mutual " There help, Omnipotence,
comfort and entertainment, having in that action
her or his own sake, keep things from outrage and carriage which I shewed my friend Will,
bound themselves to be good humoured, affable, wife Cleopatra. Commentators say it was written discreet, forgiving, patient, and joyful, with res- the day after his wedding-night. When his fpoufe pect to each other's frailties and perfections, to was, retired to the bathing room in the heat of the end of their lives. The wiser of the two (and the day, he, it seems, came in upon her when it always happens one of them is such) will, for the was just going into the water. To her beauty
on we owe followwith the utmost fanctity. When this union is ing epigram, thus preserved (as I have often said) the most in- Honeycomb in French, who has translated it as different circumstance administers delight. Their follows, without understanding the original. I condition is an endless source of new gratifications, expect it will please the English better than the The married man can say, If I am unacceptable to Latin reader. all the world beside, there is one whom I entirely love, that will receive me with joy and transport, “ When my bright confort,now nor wife normaid, and think herself obliged to double her kindness" Alham'd and wanton, of embrace afraid, and caresses of me from the gloom with which the Flel to the streams, the streams my fair betray'd; sees me overcaft. I need not diffemble the forrow “. To my fond eyes she all transparent stood, of my heart to be agreeable there, that very sorrow
" She blush'd, I smild at the Night covering flood. quickens her affection.
« Thus thro' the glass the lovely lily glows, This passion towards each other, when once “ Thus thro' the ambient gem shines forth'the rose. well fixed, enters into the very conftitution, and
" I saw new charms, and plung'd to seize my store; the kindness flows as easily and silently as the blood " Kisses I snatch'd, the waves prevented more." in the veins. When this affection is enjoyed in the most sublime degree, unskilful eyes fee nothing
My friend would not allow that this luscious in it; but when it is subject to be changed, and account could be given of a wife, and therefore has an allay in it that may make it end in distaste, used the word confort; which he learnedly said, it is apt to break into rage, or overflow into fonds would serve for a mistress as well, and give a ness, before the rest of the world.
more gentlemanly turn to the epigram. But, Uxander and Viramira are amorous and young, under favour of him and all other such fine gen and have been married these two years ; yet do tlemen, I cannot be persuaded, but that the pal. they so much distinguish each other' in company, fion a bridegroom has for a virtuous young wothat in your conversation with the dear things you man, will, by little and little, grow into friendare still put to a sort of cross-purposes. Whenever ship, and then it is 'ascended to a higher pleasure you address yourself in ordinary discourse to Vira- than it was in its first fervour. Without this mira, the turns her head another way, and the happens, he is a very unfortunate man who has answer is made to the dear Uxander : if you tell entered into this state, and left the habitudes of a merry tale, the application is still directed to life he might have enjoyed with a faithful friend. her dear; and when the should commend you, she But when the wife proves capable of filling fays to him, as if he had spoke it, That is, my serious as well as joyous hours, the brings hap dear, so pretty-This puts me in mind of what piness unknown to friendship itself. Spenfer I have somewhere read in the admired memoirs speaks of each- kind of love with great justice, of the famous Cervantes, where, while honest and attributes the highest praise to friendship; Sancho Pança is putting some neceflary humble and indeed there is no disputing that point, but question concerning Rozinante, his supper, or his by making that friendship take place between lodging, the Knight of the sorrowful countenance two married persons. is ever improving the harmless lowly hints of his 'fquire to the poetical conceit, rapture, and fight, “ Hard is the doubt, and difficult to deem, in contemplation of the dear Dulcinea of his af
( When all three kinds of love together meet, fections.
« And do dispart the heart with pow'r extreme, On the other side, Dictamnus and Maria are
« Whether shall weigh the balance down; to wit, ever fquabbling, and you may observe them all the dear affection unto kindred sweet, the time they are in company, in a state of im
" Or raging fire of love to womankind, patience. As Uxander and Viramira wish you all
« Or zeal of friends combin'd by virtues meet : gone, that they may be at freedom for dalliance; “ But, of them all, the band of virtuous mind Dictamnus and Maria wait your absence, that they
“ Methinks the gentle heart should most assured may speak their harsh interpretations on each other's words and actions during the time you were with
« For natural affection soon doth cease, them. It is certain that the greater part of the evils at.
“ And quenched is with Cupid's greater flame; tending this condition of life, arises from fashion.
« But faithful friendship doth them both suppress, Prejudice in this case is turned the wrong way,
« And them with mastering discipline doth tame, and instead of expecting more happiness than we
« Through thoughts aspiring to eternal fame. fhall meet with in it, we are laughed into a pre
" For as the soul doth rule the earthly mass,
" And all the service of the body frame; poffeffion, that we shall be disappointed if we
" So love of soul doth love of body pass, hope for lasting satisfactions. With all persons who have made good sense the
“ No less than perfect gold surmounts the
66 meanest brass," rule of action, marriage is described as the state
T capable of the highest human felicity. Tully has epiftles full of affectionate pleasure, when he writes to his wife, or speaks of his children, But above all the hints of this kind I have met with in writers of ancient date, I am pleased with an epi. gram of Marcial, in honour of the beauty of his