The Spectator Volume Ii Part 94

No. 344. Friday, April 4, 1712. Steele.

In solo vivendi causa palato est.

Juv.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I think it has not yet fallen into your Way to discourse on little Ambition, or the many whimsical Ways Men fall into, to distinguish themselves among their Acquaintance: Such Observations, well pursued, would make a pretty History of low Life. I my self am got into a great Reputation, which arose (as most extraordinary Occurrences in a Man's Life seem to do) from a mere Accident. I was some Days ago unfortunately engaged among a Set of Gentlemen, who esteem a Man according to the Quant.i.ty of Food he throws down at a Meal. Now I, who am ever for distinguis.h.i.+ng my self according to the Notions of Superiority which the rest of the Company entertain, ate so immoderately for their Applause, as had like to have cost me my Life.

What added to my Misfortune was, that having naturally a good Stomach, and having lived soberly for some time, my Body was as well prepared for this Contention as if it had been by Appointment. I had quickly vanquished every Glutton in Company but one, who was such a Prodigy in his Way, and withal so very merry during the whole Entertainment, that he insensibly betrayed me to continue his Compet.i.tor, which in a little time concluded in a compleat Victory over my Rival; after which, by Way of Insult, I ate a considerable Proportion beyond what the Spectators thought me obliged in Honour to do. The Effect however of this Engagement, has made me resolve never to eat more for Renown; and I have, pursuant to this Resolution, compounded three Wagers I had depending on the Strength of my Stomach; which happened very luckily, because it was stipulated in our Articles either to play or pay. How a Man of common Sense could be thus engaged, is hard to determine; but the Occasion of this, is to desire you to inform several Gluttons of my Acquaintance, who look on me with Envy, that they had best moderate their Ambition in time, lest Infamy or Death attend their Success. I forgot to tell you, Sir, with what unspeakable Pleasure I received the Acclamations and Applause of the whole Board, when I had almost eat my Antagonist into Convulsions: It was then that I returned his Mirth upon him with such success as he was hardly able to swallow, though prompted by a Desire of Fame, and a pa.s.sionate Fondness for Distinction: I had not endeavoured to excel so far, had not the Company been so loud in their Approbation of my Victory. I don't question but the same Thirst after Glory has often caused a Man to drink Quarts without taking Breath, and prompted Men to many other difficult Enterprizes; which if otherwise pursued, might turn very much to a Man's Advantage. This Ambition of mine was indeed extravagantly pursued; however I cant help observing, that you hardly ever see a Man commended for a good Stomach, but he immediately falls to eating more (tho he had before dined) as well to confirm the Person that commended him in his good Opinion of him, as to convince any other at the Table, who may have been unattentive enough not to have done Justice to his Character.

I am, Sir, Your most humble Servant, Epicure Mammon.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I have writ to you three or four times, to desire you would take notice of an impertinent Custom the Women, the fine Women, have lately fallen into, of taking Snuff. [1] This silly Trick is attended with such a Coquet Air in some Ladies, and such a sedate masculine one in others, that I cannot tell which most to complain of; but they are to me equally disagreeable. Mrs. Saunter is so impatient of being without it, that she takes it as often as she does Salt at Meals; and as she affects a wonderful Ease and Negligence in all her manner, an upper Lip mixed with Snuff and the Sauce, is what is presented to the Observation of all who have the honour to eat with her. The pretty Creature her Neice does all she can to be as disagreeable as her Aunt; and if she is not as offensive to the Eye, she is quite as much to the Ear, and makes up all she wants in a confident Air, by a nauseous Rattle of the Nose, when the Snuff is delivered, and the Fingers make the Stops and Closes on the Nostrils. This, perhaps, is not a very courtly Image in speaking of Ladies; that is very true: but where arises the Offence? Is it in those who commit, or those who observe it? As for my part, I have been so extremely disgusted with this filthy Physick hanging on the Lip, that the most agreeable Conversation, or Person, has not been able to make up for it. As to those who take it for no other end but to give themselves Occasion for pretty Action, or to fill up little Intervals of Discourse, I can bear with them; but then they must not use it when another is speaking, who ought to be heard with too much respect, to admit of offering at that time from Hand to Hand the Snuff-Box. But Flavilla is so far taken with her Behaviour in this kind, that she pulls out her Box (which is indeed full of good Brazile) in the middle of the Sermon; and to shew she has the Audacity of a well-bred Woman, she offers it the Men as well as the Women who sit near her: But since by this Time all the World knows she has a fine Hand, I am in hopes she may give her self no further Trouble in this matter. On Sunday was sennight, when they came about for the Offering, she gave her Charity with a very good Air, but at the same Time asked the Churchwarden if he would take a Pinch. Pray, Sir, think of these things in time, and you will oblige,

SIR,

Your most humble servant.

T.

[Footnote 1: Charles Lillie, the perfumer, from whose shop at the corner of Beaufort Buildings the original Spectators were distributed, left behind him a book of receipts and observations, The British Perfumer, Snuff Manufacturer, and Colourmans Guide, of which the MS. was sold with his business, but which remained unpublished until 1822. He opens his Part III. on Snuffs with an account of the Origin of Snuff-taking in England, the practice being one that had become fas.h.i.+onable in his day, and only about eight years before the appearance of the Spectator.

It dates from Sir George Rooke's expedition against Cadiz in 1702.

Before that time snuff-taking in England was confined to a few luxurious foreigners and English who had travelled abroad. They took their snuff with pipes of the size of quills out of small spring boxes. The pipes let out a very small quant.i.ty upon the back of the hand, and this was snuffed up the nostrils with the intention of producing a sneeze which, says Lillie, I need not say forms now no part of the design or rather fas.h.i.+on of snuff-taking; least of all in the ladies who took part in this method of snuffing defiance at the public enemy. When the fleet, after the failure of its enterprize against Cadiz, proceeded to cut off the French s.h.i.+ps in Vigobay, on the way it plundered Port St. Mary and adjacent places, where, among other merchandize, seizure was made of several thousand barrels and casks, each containing four tin canisters of snuffs of the best growth and finest Spanish manufacture. At Vigo, among the merchandize taken from the s.h.i.+pping there destroyed, were prodigious quant.i.ties of gross snuff, from the Havannah, in bales, bags, and scrows (untanned buffalo hides, used with the hairy-side inwards, for making packages), which were designed for manufacture in different parts of Spain. Altogether fifty tons of snuff were brought home as part of the prize of the officers and sailors of the fleet. Of the coa.r.s.e snuff, called Vigo snuff, the sailors, among whom it was shared, sold waggon-loads at Portsmouth, Plymouth, and Chatham, for not more than three-pence or four-pence a pound. The greater part of it was bought up by Spanish Jews, to their own very considerable profit. The fine snuffs taken at Port St. Mary, and divided among the officers, were sold by some of them at once for a small price, while others held their stocks and, as the snuff so taken became popular and gave a patriotic impulse to the introduction of a fas.h.i.+on which had hitherto been almost confined to foreigners, they got very high prices for it. This accounts for the fact that the ladies too had added the use of the perfumed snuff-box to their other fas.h.i.+onable accomplishments.]

No. 345. Sat.u.r.day, April 5, 1712. Addison.

Sanctius his animal, mentisque capacius altae Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in coetera posset, Natus h.o.m.o est.

Ov. Met.

The Accounts which Raphael gives of the Battel of Angels, and the Creation of the World, have in them those Qualifications which the Criticks judge requisite to an Episode. They are nearly related to the princ.i.p.al Action, and have a just Connexion with the Fable.

The eighth Book opens with a beautiful Description of the Impression which this Discourse of the Archangel made on our first Parent[s]. Adam afterwards, by a very natural Curiosity, enquires concerning the Motions of those Celestial Bodies which make the most glorious Appearance among the six days Works. The Poet here, with a great deal of Art, represents Eve as withdrawing from this part of their Conversation, to Amus.e.m.e.nts more suitable to her s.e.x. He well knew, that the Episode in this Book, which is filled with Adams Account of his Pa.s.sion and Esteem for Eve, would have been improper for her hearing, and has therefore devised very just and beautiful Reasons for her Retiring.

So spake our Sire, and by his Countenance seem'd Entring on studious Thoughts abstruse: which Eve Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight, With lowliness majestick, from her Seat, And Grace, that won who saw to wish her Stay, Rose; and went forth among her Fruits and Flowers To visit how they prosper'd, Bud and Bloom, Her Nursery: they at her coming sprung, And touch'd by her fair Tendance gladlier grew.

Yet went she not, as not with such Discourse Delighted, or not capable her Ear Of what was high: Such Pleasure she reserved, Adam relating, she sole Auditress; Her Husband the Relater she preferr'd Before the Angel, and of him to ask Chose rather: he, she knew, would intermix Grateful Digressions, and solve high Dispute With conjugal Caresses; from his Lip Not Words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now Such Pairs, in Love and mutual Honour join'd!

The Angels returning a doubtful Answer to Adams Enquiries, was not only proper for the Moral Reason which the Poet a.s.signs, but because it would have been highly absurd to have given the Sanction of an Archangel to any particular System of Philosophy. The chief Points in the Ptolemaick and Copernican Hypothesis are described with great Conciseness and Perspicuity, and at the same time dressed in very pleasing and poetical Images.

Adam, to detain the Angel, enters afterwards upon his own History, and relates to him the Circ.u.mstances in which he found himself upon his Creation; as also his Conversation with his Maker, and his first meeting with Eve. There is no part of the Poem more apt to raise the Attention of the Reader, than this Discourse of our great Ancestor; as nothing can be more surprizing and delightful to us, than to hear the Sentiments that arose in the first Man while he was yet new and fresh from the Hands of his Creator. The Poet has interwoven every thing which is delivered upon this Subject in Holy Writ with so many beautiful Imaginations of his own, that nothing can be conceived more just and natural than this whole Episode. As our Author knew this Subject could not but be agreeable to his Reader, he would not throw it into the Relation of the six days Works, but reserved it for a distinct Episode, that he might have an opportunity of expatiating upon it more at large.

Before I enter on this part of the Poem, I cannot but take notice of two s.h.i.+ning Pa.s.sages in the Dialogue between Adam and the Angel. The first is that wherein our Ancestor gives an Account of the pleasure he took in conversing with him, which contains a very n.o.ble Moral.

For while I sit with thee, I seem in Heavn, And sweeter thy Discourse is to my Ear Than Fruits of Palm-tree (pleasantest to Thirst And Hunger both from Labour) at the hour Of sweet Repast: they satiate, and soon fill, Tho pleasant; but thy Words with Grace divine Imbu'd, bring to their Sweetness no Satiety.

The other I shall mention, is that in which the Angel gives a Reason why he should be glad to hear the Story Adam was about to relate.

For I that day was absent, as befel, Bound on a Voyage uncouth and obscure; Far on Excursion towards the Gates of h.e.l.l, Squar'd in full Legion [such Command we had]

To see that none thence issued forth a Spy, Or Enemy; while G.o.d was in his Work, Lest he, incens'd at such Eruption bold, Destruction with Creation might have mix'd.

There is no question but our Poet drew the Image in what follows from that in Virgil's sixth Book, where aeneas and the Sibyl stand before the Adamantine Gates, which are there described as shut upon the Place of Torments, and listen to the Groans, the Clank of Chains, and the Noise of Iron Whips, that were heard in those Regions of Pain and Sorrow.

--Fast we found, fast shut The dismal Gates, and barricado'd strong; But long ere our Approaching heard within Noise, other than the Sound of Dance or Song, Torment, and loud Lament, and furious Rage.

Adam then proceeds to give an account of his Condition and Sentiments immediately after his Creation. How agreeably does he represent the Posture in which he found himself, the beautiful Landskip that surrounded him, and the Gladness of Heart which grew up in him on that occasion?

--As new waked from soundest Sleep, Soft on the flowry Herb I found me laid In balmy Sweat, which with his Beams the Sun Soon dried, and on the reaking Moisture fed.

Streight towards Heavn my wondring Eyes I turn'd, And gazed awhile the ample Sky, till rais'd By quick instinctive Motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavouring, and upright Stood on my Feet: About me round I saw Hill, Dale, and shady Woods, and sunny Plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring Streams; by these Creatures that liv'd, and mov'd, and walked, or flew, Birds on the Branches warbling; all things smil'd: With Fragrance, and with Joy my Heart o'erflow'd.

Adam is afterwards describ'd as surprized at his own Existence, and taking a Survey of himself, and of all the Works of Nature. He likewise is represented as discovering by the Light of Reason, that he and every thing about him must have been the Effect of some Being infinitely good and powerful, and that this Being had a right to his Wors.h.i.+p and Adoration. His first Address to the Sun, and to those Parts of the Creation which made the most distinguished Figure, is very natural and amusing to the Imagination.

--Thou Sun, said I, fair Light, And thou enlighten'd Earth, so fresh and gay, Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods and Plains, And ye that live and move, fair Creatures tell, Tell if you saw, how came I thus, how here?

His next Sentiment, when upon his first going to sleep he fancies himself losing his Existence, and falling away into nothing, can never be sufficiently admired. His Dream, in which he still preserves the Consciousness of his Existence, together with his removal into the Garden which was prepared for his Reception, are also Circ.u.mstances finely imagined, and grounded upon what is delivered in Sacred Story.

These and the like wonderful Incidents in this Part of the Work, have in them all the Beauties of Novelty, at the same time that they have all the Graces of Nature. They are such as none but a great Genius could have thought of, tho, upon the perusal of them, they seem to rise of themselves from the Subject of which he treats. In a word, tho they are natural, they are not obvious, which is the true Character of all fine Writing.

The Impression which the Interdiction of the Tree of Life left in the Mind of our first Parent, is describ'd with great Strength and Judgment; as the Image of the several Beasts and Birds pa.s.sing in review before him is very beautiful and lively.

--Each Bird and Beast behold Approaching two and two, these cowring low With Blandishment; each Bird stoop'd on his Wing: I nam'd them as they pa.s.s'd--

Adam, in the next place, describes a Conference which he held with his Maker upon the Subject of Solitude. The Poet here represents the supreme Being, as making an Essay of his own Work, and putting to the tryal that reasoning Faculty, with which he had endued his Creature. Adam urges, in this Divine Colloquy, the Impossibility of his being happy, tho he was the Inhabitant of Paradise, and Lord of the whole Creation, without the Conversation and Society of some rational Creature, who should partake those Blessings with him. This Dialogue, which is supported chiefly by the Beauty of the Thoughts, without other poetical Ornaments, is as fine a Part as any in the whole Poem: The more the Reader examines the Justness and Delicacy of its Sentiments, the more he will find himself pleased with it. The Poet has wonderfully preserved the Character of Majesty and Condescension in the Creator, and at the same time that of Humility and Adoration in the Creature, as particularly in the following Lines: