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Kitabı oku: «The Tatler (Vol 4)», sayfa 3

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No. 200. [Steele.
From Tuesday, July 18, to Thursday, July 20, 1710

From my own Apartment, July 19

Having devoted the greater part of my time to the service of the fair sex, I must ask pardon of my men correspondents if I postpone their commands, when I have any from the ladies which lie unanswered. That which follows is of importance:

"Sir,

"You can't think it strange if I, who know little of the world, apply to you for advice in the weighty affair of matrimony, since you yourself have often declared it to be of that consequence as to require the utmost deliberation. Without further preface, therefore, give me leave to tell you, that my father at his death left me a fortune sufficient to make me a match for any gentleman. My mother (for she is still alive) is very pressing with me to marry; and I am apt to think, to gratify her, I shall venture upon one of two gentlemen who at this time make their addresses to me. My request is, that you would direct me in my choice; which that you may the better do, I shall give you their characters; and to avoid confusion, desire you to call them by the names of Philander and Silvius. Philander is young, and has a good estate; Silvius is as young, and has a better. The former has had a liberal education, has seen the town, is retired from thence to his estate in the country, is a man of few words, and much given to books. The latter was brought up under his father's eye, who gave him just learning enough to enable him to keep his accounts; but made him withal very expert in country business, such as ploughing, sowing, buying, selling, and the like. They are both very sober men, neither of their persons is disagreeable, nor did I know which to prefer till I had heard them discourse; when the conversation of Philander so much prevailed, as to give him the advantage, with me, in all other respects. My mother pleads strongly for Silvius, and uses these arguments, that he not only has the larger estate at present, but by his good husbandry and management increases it daily; that his little knowledge in other affairs will make him easy and tractable; whereas (according to her) men of letters know too much to make good husbands. To part of this I imagine I answer effectually, by saying, Philander's estate is large enough; that they who think £2000 a year sufficient, make no difference between that and three. I easily believe him less conversant in those affairs, the knowledge of which she so much commends in Silvius; but I think them neither so necessary or becoming in a gentleman as the accomplishments of Philander. It is no great character of a man to say, he rides in his coach and six, and understands as much as he who follows his plough. Add to this, that the conversation of these sort of men seems so disagreeable to me, that though they may make good bailiffs, I can hardly be persuaded they can be good companions. It is possible I may seem to have odd notions, when I say I am not fond of a man only for being of (what is called) a thriving temper. To conclude, I own I am at a loss to conceive how good sense should make a man an ill husband, or conversing with books less complaisant.

"Cælia."

The resolution which this lady is going to take, she may very well say is founded on reason: for after the necessities of life are served, there is no manner of competition between a man of liberal education and an illiterate. Men are not altered by their circumstances, but as they give them opportunities of exerting what they are in themselves; and a powerful clown is a tyrant in the most ugly form he can possibly appear. There lies a seeming objection in the thoughtful manner of Philander: but let her consider which she shall oftener have occasion to wish, that Philander would speak, or Silvius hold his tongue.

The train of my discourse is prevented by the urgent haste of another correspondent:

July 14.

"Mr. Bickerstaff,

"This comes to you from one of those virgins of twenty-five years old and upwards, that you, like a patron of the distressed, promised to provide for;17 who makes it her humble request, that no occasional stories or subjects may (as they have for three or four of your last days) prevent your publishing the scheme you have communicated to Amanda, for every day and hour is of the greatest consequence to damsels of so advanced an age. Be quick then, if you intend to do any service for

"Your Admirer,
"Diana Forecast."

In this important affair, I have not neglected the proposals of others. Among them is the following sketch of a lottery for persons. The author of it has proposed very ample encouragement, not only to myself, but also to Charles Lillie and John Morphew. If the matter bears, I shall not be unjust to his merit: I only desire to enlarge his plan; for which purpose I lay it before the town, as well for the improvement as encouragement of it.

The Amicable Contribution for raising the Fortunes of Ten Young Ladies

"Imprimis, It is proposed to raise 100,000 crowns by way of lots, which will advance for each lady £2500, which sum, together with one of the ladies, the gentleman that shall be so happy as to draw a prize (provided they both like), will be entitled to, under such restrictions hereafter mentioned. And in case they do not like, then either party that refuses shall be entitled to £1000 only, and the remainder to him or her that shall be willing to marry, the man being first to declare his mind. But it is provided, that if both parties shall consent to have one another, the gentleman shall, before he receives the money thus raised, settle £1000 of the same in substantial hands (who shall be as trustees for the said ladies), and shall have the whole and sole disposal of it for her use only.

"Note.– Each party shall have three months' time to consider, after an interview had, which shall be within ten days after the lots are drawn.

"Note also.– The name and place of abode of the prize shall be placed on a proper ticket.

"Item.– They shall be ladies that have had a liberal education, between fifteen and twenty-three, all genteel, witty, and of unblamable characters.

"The money to be raised shall be kept in an iron box, and when there shall be 2000 subscriptions, which amounts to £500, it shall be taken out and put into a goldsmith's hands, and the note made payable to the proper lady, or her assigns (with a clause therein to hinder her from receiving it, till the fortunate person that draws her shall first sign the note), and so on till the whole sum is subscribed for: and as soon as 100,000 subscriptions are completed, and 200 crowns more to pay the charges, the lottery shall be drawn at a proper place, to be appointed a fortnight before the drawing."

Note.– Mr. Bickerstaff objects to the marriageable years here mentioned; and is of opinion, they should not commence till after twenty-three. But he appeals to the learned, both of Warwick Lane and Bishopsgate Street,18 on this subject.

No. 201. [Steele.
From Thursday, July 20, to Saturday, July 22, 1710

White's Chocolate-house, July 21

It has been often asserted in these papers, that the great source of our wrong pursuits is the impertinent manner with which we treat women, both in the common and important circumstances of life. In vain do we say, the whole sex would run into England, while the privileges which are allowed them do no way balance the inconveniences arising from those very immunities. Our women have very much indulged to them in the participation of our fortunes and our liberty; but the errors they commit in the use of either, are by no means so impartially considered as the false steps which are made by men. In the commerce of lovers, the man makes the address, assails, and betrays, and yet stands in the same degree of acceptance as he was in before he committed that treachery: the woman, for no other crime but believing one whom she thought loved her, is treated with shyness and indifference at the best, and commonly with reproach and scorn. He that is past the power of beauty may talk of this matter with the same unconcern as of any other subject: therefore I shall take upon me to consider the sex, as they live within rules, and as they transgress them. The ordinary class of the good or the ill have very little influence upon the actions of others; but the eminent in either kind are those who lead the world below them. The ill are employed in communicating scandal, infamy, and disease, like furies; the good distribute benevolence, friendship, and health, like angels. The ill are damped with pain and anguish at the sight of all that is laudable, lovely, or happy. The virtuous are touched with commiseration toward the guilty, the disagreeable, and the wretched. There are those who betray the innocent of their own sex, and solicit the lewd of ours. There are those who have abandoned the very memory, not only of innocence, but shame. There are those who never forgave, nor could ever bear being forgiven. There are also who visit the beds of the sick, lull the cares of the sorrowful, and double the joys of the joyful. Such is the destroying fiend, such the guardian angel, woman.

The way to have a greater number of the amiable part of womankind, and lessen the crowd of the other sort, is to contribute what we can to the success of well-grounded passions; and therefore I comply with the request of an enamoured man in inserting the following billet:

"Madam,

"Mr. Bickerstaff you always read, though me you will never hear. I am obliged therefore to his compassion for the opportunity of imploring yours. I sigh for the most accomplished of her sex. That is so just a distinction of her to whom I write, that the owning I think so is no distinction of me who write. Your good qualities are peculiar to you, my admiration in common with thousands. I shall be present when you read this, but fear every woman will take it for her character, sooner than she who deserves it."

If the next letter which presents itself should come from the mistress of this modest lover, and I make them break through the oppression of their passions, I shall expect gloves at their nuptials.

"Mr. Bickerstaff,

"You that are a philosopher know very well the make of the mind of woman, and can best instruct me in the conduct of an affair which highly concerns me. I never can admit my lover to speak to me of love, yet think him impertinent when he offers to talk of anything else. What shall I do with a man that always believes me? 'Tis a strange thing this distance in men of sense; why do not they always urge their fate? If we are sincere in our severity, you lose nothing by attempting. If we are hypocrites, you certainly succeed."

From my own Apartment, July 21

Before I withdraw from business for the night, it is my custom to receive all addresses to me, that others may go to rest as well as myself, at least as far as I can contribute to it. When I called to know if any would speak with me, I was informed that Mr. Mills,19 the player, desired to be admitted. He was so, and with much modesty acquainted me, as he did other people of note, that "Hamlet" was to be acted on Wednesday next for his benefit. I had long wanted to speak with this person, because I thought I could admonish him of many things which would tend to his improvement. In the general I observed to him, that though action was his business, the way to that action was not to study gesture, for the behaviour would follow the sentiments of the mind.

Action to the player, is what speech is to an orator. If the matter be well conceived, words will flow with ease; and if the actor is well possessed of the nature of his part, a proper action will necessarily follow. He informed me, that Wilks was to act Hamlet. I desired him, to request of him in my name, that he would wholly forget Mr. Betterton; for that he failed in no part of Othello, but where he had him in view. An actor's forming himself by the carriage of another, is like the trick among the widows, who lament their husbands as their neighbours did theirs, and not according to their own sentiments of the deceased.

There is a fault also in the audience which interrupts their satisfaction very much, that is, the figuring to themselves the actor in some part wherein they formerly particularly liked him, and not attending to the part he is at that time performing. Thus, whatever Wilks (who is the strictest follower of nature) is acting, the vulgar spectators turn their thoughts upon Sir Harry Wildair.

When I had indulged the loquacity of an old man for some time in such loose hints, I took my leave of Mr. Mills, and was told, Mr. Elliot20 of St. James's Coffee-house would speak with me. His business was to desire I would, as I am an astrologer, let him know beforehand who were to have the benefit tickets in the ensuing lottery; which knowledge he was of opinion he could turn to great account, as he was concerned in news.

I granted his request, upon an oath of secrecy, that he would only make his own use of it, and not let it be publicly known till after they were drawn. I had not done speaking, when he produced to me a plan which he had formed of keeping books, with the names of all such adventurers, and the numbers of their tickets, as should come to him, in order to give an hourly account21 of what tickets shall come up during the whole time of the lottery, the drawing of which is to begin on Wednesday next. I liked his method of disguising the secret I had told him, and pronounced him a thriving man who could so well watch the motion of things, and profit by a prevailing humour and impatience so aptly, as to make his honest industry agreeable to his customers, as it is to be the messenger of their good fortune.

Advertisement
From the Trumpet in Sheer Lane, July 20

Ordered, that for the improvement of the pleasures of society, a member of this house, one of the most wakeful of the soporific assembly beyond Smithfield Bars, and one of the order of story-tellers in Holborn, may meet and exchange stale matter, and report the same to their principals.

N.B.– No man is to tell above one story in the same evening; but has liberty to tell the same the night following.

Mr. Bickerstaff desires his love correspondents to vary the names they shall assume in their future letters, for that he is overstocked with Philanders.

No. 202. [Steele.
From Saturday, July 22, to Tuesday, July 25, 1710

 
– Est hic,
Est Ulubris, animus si te non deficit æquus.
 
Hor., 1 Ep. xi. 30.

From my own Apartment, July 24

This afternoon I went to visit a gentleman of my acquaintance at Mile End, and passing through Stepney Churchyard, I could not forbear entertaining myself with the inscriptions on the tombs and graves. Among others, I observed one with this notable memorial:

"Here lies the body of T.B."

This fantastical desire of being remembered only by the two first letters of a name, led me into the contemplation of the vanity and imperfect attainments of ambition in general. When I run back in my imagination all the men whom I have ever known and conversed with in my whole life, there are but very few who have not used their faculties in the pursuit of what it is impossible to acquire, or left the possession of what they might have been (at their setting out) masters, to search for it where it was out of their reach. In this thought it was not possible to forget the instance of Pyrrhus, who proposing to himself in discourse with a philosopher,22 one, and another, and another conquest, was asked, what he would do after all that? "Then," says the King, "we will make merry." He was well answered, "What hinders your doing that in the condition you are already?" The restless desire of exerting themselves above the common level of mankind is not to be resisted in some tempers; and minds of this make may be observed in every condition of life. Where such men do not make to themselves or meet with employment, the soil of their constitution runs into tares and weeds. An old friend of mine, who lost a major's post forty years ago, and quitted, has ever since studied maps, encampments, retreats, and countermarches, with no other design but to feed his spleen and ill-humour, and furnish himself with matter for arguing against all the successful actions of others. He that at his first setting out in the world was the gayest man in our regiment, ventured his life with alacrity, and enjoyed it with satisfaction, encouraged men below him, and was courted by men above him, has been ever since the most froward creature breathing. His warm complexion spends itself now only in a general spirit of contradiction; for which he watches all occasions, and is in his conversation still upon sentry, treats all men like enemies, with every other impertinence of a speculative warrior.

He that observes in himself this natural inquietude, should take all imaginable care to put his mind in some method of gratification, or he will soon find himself grow into the condition of this disappointed major. Instead of courting proper occasions to rise above others, he will be ever studious of pulling others down to him: it being the common refuge of disappointed ambition, to ease themselves by detraction. It would be no great argument against ambition, that there are such mortal things in the disappointment of it; but it certainly is a forcible exception, that there can be no solid happiness in the success of it. If we value popular praise, it is in the power of the meanest of the people to disturb us by calumny. If the fame of being happy, we cannot look into a village but we see crowds in actual possession of what we seek only the appearance. To this may be added, that there is I know not what malignity in the minds of ordinary men to oppose you in what they see you fond of; and it is a certain exception against a man's receiving applause, that he visibly courts it. However, this is not only the passion of great and undertaking spirits, but you see it in the lives of such as one would believe were far enough removed from the ways of ambition. The rural squires of this nation even eat and drink out of vanity. A vainglorious fox-hunter shall entertain half a county for the ostentation of his beef and beer, without the least affection for any of the crowd about him. He feeds them, because he thinks it a superiority over them that he does so: and they devour him, because they know he treats them out of insolence. This indeed is ambition in grotesque, but may figure to us the condition of politer men, whose only pursuit is glory. When the superior acts out of a principle of vanity, the dependant will be sure to allow it him; because he knows it destructive of the very applause which is courted by the man who favours him, and consequently makes him nearer himself.

But as every man living has more or less of this incentive, which makes men impatient of an inactive condition, and urges men to attempt what may tend to their reputation, it is absolutely necessary they should form to themselves an ambition which is in every man's power to gratify. This ambition would be independent, and would consist only in acting what to a man's own mind appears most great and laudable. It is a pursuit in the power of every man, and is only a regular prosecution of what he himself approves. It is what can be interrupted by no outward accidents, for no man can be robbed of his good intention. One of our society of the Trumpet therefore started last night a notion which I thought had reason in it. "It is, methinks," said he, "an unreasonable thing, that heroic virtue should (as it seems to be at present) be confined to a certain order of men, and be attainable by none but those whom fortune has elevated to the most conspicuous stations. I would have everything to be esteemed as heroic which is great and uncommon in the circumstances in the man who performs it." Thus there would be no virtue in human life which every one of the species would not have a pretence to arrive at, and an ardency to exert. Since Fortune is not in our power, let us be as little as possible in hers. Why should it be necessary that a man should be rich, to be generous? If we measured by the quality, and not the quantity, of things, the particulars which accompany an action are what should denominate it mean or great. The highest station of human life is to be attained by each man that pretends to it: for every man can be as valiant, as generous, as wise, and as merciful, as the faculties and opportunities which he has from Heaven and fortune will permit. He that can say to himself, I do as much good, and am as virtuous, as my most earnest endeavours will allow me, whatever is his station in the world, is to himself possessed of the highest honour. If ambition is not thus turned, it is no other than a continual succession of anxiety and vexation. But when it has this cast, it invigorates the mind, and the consciousness of its own worth is a reward which it is not in the power of envy, reproach, or detraction, to take from it. Thus the seat of solid honour is in a man's own bosom, and no one can want support who is in possession of an honest conscience, but he who would suffer the reproaches of it for other greatness.

P.S.– I was going on in my philosophy, when notice was brought me that there was a great crowd in my ante-chamber, who expected audience. When they were admitted, I found they all met at my lodgings; each coming upon the same errand, to know whether they were of the fortunate in the lottery, which is now ready to be drawn. I was much at a loss how to extricate myself from their importunity; but observing the assembly made up of both sexes, I signified to them, that in this case it would appear Fortune is not blind, for all the lots would fall upon the wisest and the fairest. This gave so general a satisfaction, that the room was soon emptied, and the company retired with the best air, and the most pleasing grace, I had anywhere observed. Mr. Elliot23 of St. James's Coffee-house now stood alone before me, and signified to me, he had now not only prepared his books, but had received a very great subscription already. His design was, to advertise his subscribers at their respective places of abode, within an hour after their number is drawn, whether it was a blank or benefit, if the adventurer lives within the bills of mortality; if he dwells in the country, by the next post. I encouraged the man in his industry, and told him, the ready path to good fortune was to believe there was no such thing.

17.See No. 195.
18.The College of Physicians met in Warwick Lane, and the Royal Society at Gresham College, in Bishopsgate Street.
19.John Mills, the elder, who died in 1736. Cibber says that Mills owed his advancement to Wilks, to whose friendship his qualities as an "honest, quiet, careful man, of as few faults as excellences, commended him." Mills' salary (see table printed in vol. ii. p. 164) was the same as Betterton's – £4 a week, and £1 for his wife.
20.On November 19, 1710, Swift and Steele met at the St. James's Coffee-house. "This evening," says Swift, "I christened our coffee-man Elliot's child, where the rogue had a most noble supper, and Steele and I sat among some scurvy company over a bowl of punch; so that I am come late home."
21.See No. 202, end.
22.Cineas the orator (see Plutarch's "Life of Pyrrhus").
23.See No. 201.
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Litres'teki yayın tarihi:
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