Page images
PDF
EPUB

where, with all the simplicity natural to that
part of our island, one shepherd bids the other
good-morrow in an unusual and elegant manner.

Diggon Davey, I hid hur God-day;
Or Diggon hur is, or I mis-say.

Diggon answers,

Hur was hur while it was day light:
But now hur is a most wretched wight, &c.

No. 41.]

Tuesday, April 28, 1713.

E'en churches are no sanctuaries now.

Epiloguc to Cato,

THE following letter has so much truth and reason in it, that I believe every man of sense and honour in England, will have a just indignation against the person who could commit so great a violence, as that of which my correspondent complains.

I

To the Author of the Guardian.

But the most beautiful example of this kind that I ever met with, is a very valuable piece which I chanced to find among some old manu'SIR,I claim a place in your paper for what scripts, entitled, A Pastoral Ballad; which I think, for its nature and simplicity, may (not. now write to you, from the declaration which withstanding the modesty of the title) be allow-you made at your first appearance, and the very ed a perfect pastoral. It is composed in the So- title you assume to yourself. mersetshire dialect, and the names such as are proper to the country people. It may be observed, as a farther beauty of this pastoral, the words Nymph, Dryad, Naiad, Faun, Cupid, or Satyr, are not once mentioned through the whole. I shall make no apology for inserting some few lines of this excellent piece. Cicily breaks thus into the subject, as she is going a milking:

Cicily. Rager go vetch tha kee,* or else tha zun
Will quite be go, beuore c'have half a don.
Roger. Thou should'st not ax ma tweece, but I've a be
To dreave our bull to bull tha parson's kee.

It is to be observed that this whole dialogue is formed upon the passion of jealousy; and his mentioning the parson's kine naturally revives the jealousy of the shepherdess Cicily, which she expresses as follows:

If the circumstance which I am going to mention is overlooked by one who calls himself Guardian, I am sure honour and integrity, innocence and virtue, are not the objects of his care.--The Examiner ends his discourse of Friday, the twenty-fourth instant, with these words:

"No sooner was D-* among the whigs, and confirmed past retrieving, but lady Char-tet is taken knotting in St. James's chapel during divine service, in the immediate presence both of God and her majesty, who were affronted together, that the family might appear to be entirely come over. I spare the beauty for the sake of her birth; but certainly there was no occasion for so public a proof, that her fingers are more dexterous in tying a knot, than her father's brains in perplexing the government."

It is apparent that the person here intended is by her birth a lady, and daughter of an earl of Great Britain; and the treatment this author When in yond vield you kiss'd tha parson's maid; is pleased to give her, he makes no scruple to

Cicily. Ah Rager, Rager, chez was zore avraid

Is this the love that once to me you zed bread? When from tha wake thou brought'st me gingerRoger. Cicily thou charg'st me false-I'll zwear to thee, Tha parson's maid is still a maid for me.

In which answer of his are expressed at once that 'spirit of religion,' and that innocence of the golden age,' so necessary to be observed by all writers of pastoral.

At the conclusion of this piece the author reconciles the lovers, and ends the eclogue the most simply in the world:

So Rager parted vor to vetch tha kee,
And vor her bucket in went Cicily.

I am loth to show my fondness for antiquity so
far as to prefer this ancient British author to
our present English writers of pastoral; but I
cannot avoid making this obvious remark, that
both Spenser and Philips have hit into the same
road with this old west country bard of ours.

After all that hath been said I hope none can think it any injustice to Mr. Pope, that I forbore to mention him as a pastoral writer; since upon the whole he is of the same class with Moschus and Bion, whom we have excluded that rank; and of whose eclogues, as well as some of Virgil's, it may be said, that according to the description we have given of this sort of poetry, they are by no means pastorals, but something

better.'

*That is, kine or cows.

own she is exposed to by being his daughter. Since he has assumed a licence to talk of this nobleman in print to his disadvantage, I hope his lordship will pardon me, that out of the interest which I, and all true Englishmen have in his character, I take the liberty to defend him.

[ocr errors]

'I am willing on this occasion, to allow the claim and pretension to merit to be such, as the same author describes in his preceding paper. By active merit (says the Examiner of the twenty-first) I understand, not only the power and ability to serve, but the actual exercise of any one or more virtues, for promoting the good of one's country, and a long and steady course of real endeavours to appear useful in a government; or where a person eminently qualified for public affairs, distinguishes himself in some critical juncture, and at the expense of his ease and fortune, or with the hazard of his person, exposes himself to the malice of a designing fac. tion, by thwarting their wicked purposes, and contributing to the safety, repose, and welfare of a people."

Let us examine the conduct of this noble earl by this description. Upon the late glorious revolution, when it was in debate in what manner the people of England should express their gratitude to their deliverer, this lord, from the utmost tenderness and loyalty to his unhappy

[blocks in formation]

discourse of religion? This is indeed " to lay at. us and make every blow fell to the ground."

There is no party concerned in this circumstance; but every man that hopes for a virtuous woman to his wife, that would defend his child, or protect his mistress, ought to receive this insolence as done to himself. "In the immediate presence of God and her majesty, that the family might appear to be entirely come over," says the fawning miscreant.--It is very visible which of those powers (that he has put together) he is the more fearful of offending. But he mistakes his way in making his court to a pious sovereign, by naming her with the Deity, in order to find protection for insulting a virtuous woman, who comes to call upon him in the royal chapel.

prince, and apprehensive of the danger of so great a change, voted against king William's accession to the throne. However, his following services sufficiently testified the truth of that his memorable expression, "Though he could not make a king, he could obey him." The whole course and tenour of his life ever since has been visibly animated, by a steady and constant zeal for the monarchy and episcopacy of these realms. He has been ever reviled by all who are cold to the interests of our established religion, or dissenters from it, as a favourer of persecution, and a bigot to the church, against the civil rights of his fellow-subjects. Thus it stood with him at the trial of doctor Sacheverell, when this noble earl had a very great share in obtaining the gentle sentence which the house of lords pronounced on that occasion. But, indeed, I have not heard that any of his lordship's dependents join-less valuable and dear than honour and reputaed saint Harry in the pilgrimage which "that meek man" took afterwards round England, followed by drum, trumpet, and acclamations, to "visit the churches."-Civil prudence made it, perhaps, necessary to throw the public affairs in to sach hands as had no pretensions to popular-him trample on the ashes of the dead; but all ity in either party, but from the distribution of the queen's favours.

During such, and other later transactions, (which are too fresh to need being recounted) the earl of Nottingham has had the misfortune to differ with the lords who have the honour to be employed in the administration; but even among these incidents he has highly distinguished himself in procuring an act of parliament, to prevent that those who dissent from the church should serve in the state.

I hope these are great and critical junctures wherein this gentleman has shown himself a patriot and lover of the church in as eminent manner, as any other of his fellow-subjects. "He has at all times, and in all seasons, shown the same steady abhorrence to all innovations." But it is from this behaviour, that he has deserved so ill of the Examiner, as to be termed a "late convert" to those whom he calls factious, and introduced in his profane dialogue of April the sixth, with a servant and a mad woman. think I have, according to the Examiner's own description of merit, shown how little this noble. man deserves such treatment. I shall now appeal to all the world, to consider whether the outrage committed against the young lady had not been cruel and insufferable, towards the daughter of the highest offender.

I

The utmost malice and invention could go no farther than to forge a story of her having inadvertently done an indifferent action in a sacred place. Of what temper can this man be made, that could have no sense of the pangs he must give a young lady to be barely mentioned in a public paper, much more to be named in a libellous manner, as having offended God and

man.

[ocr errors]

If life be (as it ought to be with people of their character, whom the Examiner attacks)

tion, in that proportion is the Examiner worse than an assassin; we have stood by and tamely heard him aggravate the disgraces of the brave and the unfortunate, we have seen him double the anguish of the unhappy man, we have seen

this has concerned greater life, and could touch only public characters, they did but remotely affect our private and domestic interests; but when due regard is not had to the honour of women, all human society is assaulted. The highest person in the world is of that sex, and has the utmost sensibility of an outrage committed against it. She, who was the best wife that ever prince was blessed with, will, though she sits on a throne, jealously regard the honour of a young lady who has not entered into that condition..

'Lady Char-te's quality will make it impossible that this cruel usage can escape her majesty's notice; and it is the business of every honest man to trace the offender, and expose him to the indignation of his sovereign.'

[blocks in formation]

TOM LIZARD told us a story the other day, of some persons which our family know very well, with so much humour and life, that it caused a great deal of mirth at the tea-table. His brother Will, the templar, was highly delighted with it, and the next day being with soine of his inns-of-court acquaintance, resolved (whether out of the benevolence, or the pride of his heart, I will not determine) to entertain them with what he called 'a pleasant humour enough.' I was in great pain for him when I heard him begin, and was not at all surprised to find the company very little moved by it. Will blushed, looked round the room, and with a forced laugh, Faith, gentlemen,' said he, I do not know what makes you look so grave; it was an ad

But the wretch, as dull as he is wicked, felt it strike on his imagination, that knotting and perplexing would make a quaint sting at the end of his paper, and had no compunction, though he introduced his witticism at the ex-mirable story when I heard it.' pense of a young lady's quiet, and (as far as in him lies) her honour. Does he thus finish his

When I came home I fell into a profound contemplation upon story-telling, and as I have

nothing so much at heart as the good of my [the hearer, if it be chosen aptly for the story. country, I resolved to lay down some precautions upon this subject:

Thus, I remember Tom Lizard, after having made his sisters merry with an account of a I have often thought that a story-teller is formal old man's way of complimenting, owned born, as well as a poet. It is, I think, certain, very frankly, that his story would not have been that some men have such a peculiar cast of worth one farthing, if he had made the hat of mind, that they see things in another light than him whom he represented one inch narrower. men of grave dispositions. Men of a lively Besides the marking distinct characters, and imagination, and a mirthful temper, will repre- selecting pertinent circumstances, it is likewise sent things to their hearers in the same manner necessary to leave off in time, and end smartly. as they themselves were affected with them; So that there is a kind of drama in the forming and whereas serious spirits might perhaps have of a story, and the manner of conducting and been disgusted at the sight of some odd occur-pointing it, is the same as in an epigram. It is rences in life; yet the very same occurrences a miserable thing, after one hath raised the exshall please them in a well-told story, where pectation of the company by humourous chathe disagreeable parts of the images are con-racters, and a pretty conceit, to pursue the cealed, and those only which are pleasing ex- matter too far. There is no retreating, and how hibited to the fancy. Story-telling is therefore poor it is for a story-teller to end his relation by not an art, but what we call a knack;' it doth saying, 'that's all!' not so much subsist upon wit as upon humour; As the choosing of pertinent circumstances and I will add, that it is not perfect without is the life of a story, and that wherein humour proper gesticulations of the body, which natu- principally consists; so the collectors of imperrally attend such merry emotions of the mind. tinent particulars are the very bane and opiates I know very well, that a certain gravity of of conversation. Old men are great transgrescountenance sets some stories off to advantage, sors this way. Poor Ned Poppy,-he's gonewhere the hearer is to be surprised in the end; was a very honest man, but was so excessively but this is by no means a general rule; for it is tedious over his pipe, that he was not to be enfrequently convenient to aid and assist by cheer- dured. He knew so exactly what they had for ful looks, and whimsical agitations. I will go dinner; when such a thing happened; in what yet further, and affirm that the success of a story ditch his bay stone-horse had his sprain at that very often depends upon the make of the body, time, and how his man John,-no! 'twas Wiland formation of the features, of him who re- liam, started a hare in the common field; that lates it. I have been of this opinion ever since he never got to the end of his tale. Then he I criticised upon the chin of Dick Dewlap. I was extremely particular in marriages and very often had the weakness to repine at the inter-marriages, and cousins twice or thrice prosperity of his conceits, which made him pass removed; and whether such a thing happened for a wit with the widow at the coffee-house, and at the latter end of July, or the beginning of the ordinary mechanics that frequent it; nor August. He had a marvellous tendency likecould I myself forbear laughing at them most wise to digressions; insomuch that if a consiheartily, though upon examination I thought derable person was mentioned in his story, he most of them very flat and insipid. I found after would straightway launch out into an episode some time, that the merit of his wit was found-of him; and again, if in that person's story ho ed upon the shaking of a fat paunch, and the tossing up of a pair of rosy joles. Poor Dick had a fit of sickness, which robbed him of his fat and his fame at once; and it was full three months before he regained his reputation, which rose in proportion to his floridity. He is now very jolly and ingenious, and hath a good constitution for wit.

Those who are thus adorned with the gifts of nature, are apt to show their parts with too much ostentation: I would therefore advise all the professors of this art never to tell stories but as they seem to grow out of the subject matter of the conversation, or as they serve to illustrate or enliven it. Stories that are very common are generally irksome; but may be aptly introduced, provided they be only hinted at, and mentioned by way of allusion. Those that are altogether new should never be ushered in without a short and pertinent character of the chief persons concerned; because, by that means, you make the company acquainted with them; and it is a certain rule, that slight and trivial accounts of those who are familiar to us, administer more mirth, than the brightest points of wit in unknown characters. A little circumstance in the complexion or dress of the man you are talking of sets his image before

had occasion to remember a third man, he broke off, and gave us his history, and so on. He always put me in mind of what sir William Temple informs us of the tale-tellers in the north of Ireland, who are hired to tell stories of giants and enchanters to lull people asleep. These historians are obliged, by their bargain, to go on without stopping; so that after the patient hath, by this benefit, enjoyed a long nap, he is sure to find the operator proceeding in his work. Ned procured the like effect in me the last time I was with him. As he was in the third hour of his story, and very thankful that his memory did not fail him, I fairly nodded in the elbow chair. He was much af. fronted at this, till I told him, 'Old friend, you have your infirmity, and I have mine.'

But of all evils in story-telling, the humour. of telling tales, one after another, in great numbers, is the least supportable. Sir Harry Pandolf and his son gave my lady Lizard great offence in this particular. Sir Harry hath what they call a string of stories, which he tells over every Christmas. When our family visits there, we are constantly, after supper, entertained with the Glastonbury Thorn. When we have wondered at that a little, Ay, but, father,' saith the son, let us have the Spirit in the Wood.' After

[ocr errors]

that hath been laughed at, 'Ay, but father,' | difficult virtue to forbear going into a family, cries the booby again, tell us how you served though she was in love with the heir of it, for the robber. Alack-a-day,' saith sir Harry, no other reason but because her happiness was with a smile, and rubbing his forehead, 'I have inconsistent with the tranquillity of the whole almost forgot that; but 'tis a pleasant conceit, house, to which she should be allied. I say, I to be sure. Accordingly he tells that and think it a more generous virtue in Lucia to twenty more in the same independent order, conquer her love from this motive, than in and without the least variation, at this day, as Marcia to suspend hers in the present circumhe hath done to my knowledge, ever since the stances of her father and her country: but pray revolution. I must not forget a very odd com- be here to settle these matters. I am, your pliment that sir Harry always makes my lady most obliged and obedient humble servant, when he dines here. After dinner he strokes 'MARY LIZARD.' his belly, and says with a feigned concern in his countenance, Madam, I have lost by you to-day.' How so, sir Harry?' replies my lady; 'Madam,' says he, 'I have lost an excellent stomach.' At this, his son and heir laughs immoderately, and winks upon Mrs. Annabella. This is the thirty-third time that sir Harry hath been thus arch, and I can bear it no longer.

[ocr errors]

As the telling of stories is a great help and life to conversation, I always encourage them, if they are pertinent and innocent; in opposition to those gloomy mortals, who disdain every thing but matter of fact. Those grave fellows are my aversion, who sift every thing with the utmost nicety, and find the malignity of a lie in a piece of humour, pushed a little beyond exact truth. I likewise have a poor opinion of those who have got a trick of keeping a steady countenance, that cock their hats, and look glum when a pleasant thing is said, and ask, 'Well! and what then?' Men of wit and parts should treat one another with benevolence: and I will lay it down as a maxim, that if you seem to have a good opinion of another man's wit, he will allow you to have judgment.

[blocks in formation]

I made all the haste imaginable to the family, where I found Tom with the play in his hand, and the whole company with a sublime cheerfulness in their countenance, all ready to speak to me at once: and before I could draw my chair, my lady herself repeated,

'Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
The tincture of a skin that I admire;
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
The virtuous Marcia towers above her sex:
True, she is fair; (oh! how divinely fair!)
But still the lovely maid improves her charms
With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,
And sanctity of manners.

I was going to speak, when Mrs. Cornelia stood up, and with the most gentle accent and

sweetest tone of voice succeeded her mother:

So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains
Of rushing torrents and descending rains,
Works itself clear, and as it runs refines,
Till by degrees the floating mirror shines,
Reflects each flower that on the border grows,
And a new heaven in its fair bosom shows.

I thought now they would have given me time to draw a chair; but the Sparkler took hold of me, and I heard her with the utmost delight pursue her admiration of Lucia in the words of Portius:

Athwart the terrors that thy vow Has planted round thee, thou appear'st more fair, More amiable, and risest in thy charms, Loveliest of women! Heaven is in thy soul, Beauty and virtue shine for ever round thee, Bright'ning each other; thou art all divine! When the ladies had done speaking, I took the liberty to take my place; while Tom, who, like a just courtier, thinks the interest of his prince and country the same, dwelt upon these

lines:

I HAD for some days observed something in agitation, which was carried by smiles and whispers between my lady Lizard and her daughters, with a professed declaration that Mr. Ironside should not, be in the secret. I would not trespass upon the integrity of the Sparkler so much as to solicit her to break her word even in a trifle; but I take it for an instance of her kindness to me, that as soon as she was at liberty, she was impatient to let me know it, and this morning sent me the follow-time, it went to my heart that Annabella, for ing billet:

'SIR,-My brother Tom waited upon us all last night to Cato; we sat in the first seats in the box of the eighteen-penny gallery. You must come hither this morning, for we shall be full of debates about the characters. I was for Marcia last night, but find that partiality was owing to the awe I was under in her father's presence; but this morning Lucia is my woYou will tell me whether I am right or no when I see you; but I think it is a more

man.

Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights,
The generous plan of power deliver'd down
From age to age, by your renown'd forefathers,
(So dearly bought, the price of so much blood.)
O let it never perish in your hands!
But piously transmit it to your children.
Though I would not take notice of it at that

whom I have long had some apprehensions,
said nothing on this occasion, but indulged her-
self in the sneer of a little mind, to see the rest
so much affected. Mrs. Betty also, who knows
forsooth more than us all, overlooked the whole
drama, but acknowledged the dresses of Syphax
and Juba were very prettily imagined. The
love of virtue, which has been so warmly roused
by this admirable piece in all parts of the
theatre, is an unanswerable instance of how
great force the stage might be towards the im-
provement of the world, were it regarded and

of body and mind, in the neighbourhood of so much contention as is carried on among the students of Littleton. The following letter gives us some light into the manners and maxims of these philosophers.

To the Guardian.

tune have been lamented in all ages, those per'SIR,-As the depredations of time and forsons who have resisted and disputed the tyranny of either of these, have employed the sublimest these deceased heroes have had their places juspeculations of the writers in all languages. As diciously assigned them already in the temple of fame, I would immortalize some persons now alive, who to me are greater objects of envy,

encouraged as much as it ought. There is no medium in this case, for the advantages of action, and the representation of vice and virtue in an agreeable or odious manner before our eyes, are so irresistibly prevalent, that the theatre ought to be shut up, or carefully governed, in any nation that values the promotion of virtue or guard of innocence among its people. Speeches or sermons will ever suffer, in some degree, from the characters of those that make them; and mankind are so unwilling to reflect on what makes for their own mortification, that they are ever cavilling against the lives of those who speak in the cause of goodness, to keep them selves in countenance, and continue in beloved infirmities. But in the case of the stage, envy and detraction are baffled, and none are offended, but all insensibly won by personated charac-both as their bravery is exercised with the ut ters, which they neither look upon as their and as they are substantially happy on this side most tranquillity and pleasure to themselves, rivals, or superiors; every man that has any the grave, in opposition to all the Greek and degree of what is laudable in a theatrical cha-Latin scraps to the contrary. racter, is secretly pleased, and encouraged in the prosecution of that virtue without fancying any man about him has more of it. To this

purpose I fell a talking at the tea-table, when
my lady Lizard, with a look of some severity
towards Annabella and Mrs. Betty, was pleased
to say, that it must be from some trifling pre-
possession of mind that any one could be un-
moved with the characters of this tragedy; nor
do I yet understand to what circumstance in the
family her ladyship alluded, when she made all
the company look serious, and rehearsed, with
a tone more exalted, those words of the heroine,
In spite of all the virtues we can boast,
The woman that deliberates is lost.

inroads from the spleen, as I affirm all evil to As therefore I am naturally subject to cruel come from the cast, as I am the weather-glass

of every company I come into, I sometimes,
according to Shakspeare,

Sit like my grandsire cut in alabaster,
Sleep whilst I wake, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish.

I would furnish out a table of merry fame, in envious admiration of those jovial blades, who disappoint the strokes of age and fortune with the same gayety of soul, as when through youth or affluence they were in their prime for fancy, frolic, and achievement. There are, you may observe, in all public walks, persons who by a singular shabbiness of their attire, make a very Whereas Bat Pigeon in the Strand, hair-cutter ridiculous appearance in the opinion of the men to the family of the Lizards, has attained to and appear in such a state of distress and tribuof dress. They are very sullen and involved, great proficience in his art, Mr. Ironside advises lation as to be thought inconsolable. They aro all persons of fine heads, in order to have justice generally of that complexion which was in fadone them, to repair to that industrious me-shion during the pleasurable reign of Charles

chanic.

ADVERTISEMENT.

N. B. Mr. Pigeon has orders to talk with, and examine into the parts and characters of young persons, before he thins the covering near the seat of the brain.

No. 44.]

Friday, May 1, 1713.

Hac iter Elysium nobis. Virg. En. vi. 512.

This path conducts us to th' Elysian fields.

the Second. Some of them, indeed, are of a lighter brown, whose fortunes fell with that of such as take themselves, and the world usually king James. Now these, who are the jest of takes, to be in prosperity, are the very persons whose happiness, were it understood, would be looked upon with burning envy. I fell into the discovery of them in the following manner : One day last summer, being particularly under the dominion of the spleen, I resolved to sooth my melancholy in the company of such, whose appearance promised a full return of any comI HAVE frequently observed in the walks be.plaints I could possibly utter. Living near longing to all the inns of court, a set of old fel. lows who appear to be humourists, and wrapped up in themselves; but have long been at a loss when I have seen them smile, and name my name as I passed by, and say, Old Ironside wears well. I am a mere boy to some of them who frequent Gray's-inn, but am not a little pleased to find they are even with the world, and return upon it its neglect towards them, which is all the defence we old fellows have against the petulancy of young people. I am very glad to observe that these sages of this peripatetic sect study tranquillity and indolence

Gray's-inn walk, I went thither in search of the persons above described, and found some of them seated upon a bench, where, as Milton sings,

the unpierced shade Imbrowned their noontide bower.

'I squeezed in among them, and they did not only receive my moanings with singular hu. manity, but gave me all possible encouragement to enlarge them. If the blackness of my spleen raised any imaginary distemper of body, some one of them immediately sympathized with me. If I spoke of any disappointment in my fortune

« PreviousContinue »