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No. 203.]

THE SPECTATOR.

good services, but represent our mirth and the genealogies of great families were often freedom by the words wantonness and dis-drawn up in the shape of trees, had taken a fancy to dispose of his own illegitimate issue in a figure of the same kind:

order.

That in all families where there are spies, there is a general jealousy and misunderstanding.

"That the masters and mistresses of such houses live in continual suspicion of their ingenuous and true servants, and are given up to the management of those who are false and perfidious.

-Nec longum tempus et ingens Exiit ad cœlum ramis felicibus arbos, Miraturque novas frondes, et non sua poma. Virg. Georg. ii. 80. And in short space the laden boughs arise, With happy fruit advancing to the skies; The mother plant admires the leaves unknown Of alien trees, and apples not her own.-Dryden. The trunk of the tree was marked with "That such masters and mistresses who entertain spies, are no longer more than cyphers in their own families; and that we his own name, Will Maple. Out of the your petitioners are with great disdain side of it grew a large barren branch, inhappy wife. The head was adorned with obliged to pay all our respect, and expect scribed Mary Maple, the name of his unall our maintenance from such spies. "Your petitioners therefore most hum-five huge boughs. On the bottom of the bly pray, that you would represent the premises to all persons of condition; and your petitioners, as in duty bound, shall T. for ever pray,' &c.

No. 203.] Tuesday, October 23, 1711.
Phoebe pater, si das hujus mihi nominis usum
Nec falsa Clymene culpam sub imagine celat;
Ovid. Met. ii. 38.
Pignora da, genitor-

Illustrious parent! if I yet may claim
The name of son, O rescue me from shame;
My mother's truth confirm; all doubt remove,
By tender pledges of a father's love.

THERE is a loose tribe of men whom I have not yet taken notice of, that ramble into all the corners of this great city, in order to seduce such unfortunate females as fall into their walks. These abandoned profligates raise up issue in every quarter of the town and very often, for a valuable consideration, father it upon the churchwarden. By this means there are several married men who have a little family in most of the parishes of London and Westminster, and several bachelors who are undone by a charge of children.

first was written in capital characters Kate
Cole, who branched out into three sprigs,
Twiford gave
birth to another bough, that
viz. William, Richard, and Rebecca. Sal
shot up into Sarah, Tom, Will, and Frank.
The third arm of the tree had only a single
infant on it, with a space left for a second;
the parent from whom it sprung being near
her time when the author took this inge-
nious device into his head. The two other
great boughs were very plentifully loaden
with fruit of the same kind; besides which
there were many ornamental branches that
did not bear. In short, a more flourishing
tree never came out of the herald's office.

What makes this generation of vermin
so very prolific, is the indefatigable dili-
A man does not undergo
gence with which they apply themselves
to their business.
more watchings and fatigues in a cam-
paign, than in the course of a vicious amour.
As it is said of some men, that they make
their business their pleasure, these sons of
darkness may be said to make their plea-
sure their business. They might conquer
their corrupt inclinations with half the
pains they are.at in gratifying them.

Nor is the invention of these men less to
be admired than their industry and vigi-
lance. There is a fragment of Apollodorus
the comic poet (who was contemporary
with Menander) which is full of humour,
as follows: Thou mayest shut up thy
doors,' says he, with bars and bolts. It
will be impossible for the blacksmith to
make them so fast, but a cat and a whore-
master will find a way through them.' In
a word, there is no head so full of strata-
gems as that of a libidinous man.

When a man once gives himself this liberty of preying at large, and living upon the common, he finds so much game in a populous city, that it is surprising to consider the numbers which he sometimes propagates. We see many a young fellow who is scarce of age, that could lay his claim to the jus trium liberorum, or the privileges which were granted by the Roman laws, to all such as were fathers of three children. Nay, I have heard a rake, who was not quite five-and-twenty, declare himself the father of a seventh son, and very prudently determine to breed him up a physician. In short, the town is full of these young patriarchs, not to mention several battered beaux, who like heedless spendthrifts that squander away their estates before they are masters of them, have raised up their whole stock of chil-plant men.' Some countries punish this dren before marriage.

I must not here omit the particular whim of an impudent libertine, that had a little smattering of heraldry; and observing how

Were I to propose a punishment for this infamous race of propagators, it should be to send them, after the second or third offence, into our American colonies, in order to people those parts of her majesty's dominions where there is a want of inhabitants, and, in the phrase of Diogenes, to

crime with death; but I think such a banishment would be sufficient, and might turn this generative faculty to the advantage of the public.

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In the mean time, until these gentlemen | tinual anxiety for my future fortune, and may be thus disposed of, I would earnestly under a great unhappiness in losing the exhort them to take care of those unfortu-sweet conversation and friendly advice of nate creatures whom they have brought my parents; so that I cannot look upon myinto the world by these indirect methods, self otherwise than as a monster, strangely and to give their spurious children such an sprung up in nature, which every one is education as may render them more virtu- ashamed to own. ous than their parents. This is the best atonement they can make for their own crimes, and indeed the only method that is left them to repair their past miscarriages. I would likewise desire them to consider, whether they are not bound in common humanity, as well as by all the obligations of religion and nature, to make some provision for those whom they have not only given life to, but entailed upon them, though very unreasonably, a degree of shame and disgrace. And here I cannot but take notice of those depraved notions which prevail among us, and which must have taken rise from our natural inclination to favour a vice to which we are so very prone, namely, that bastardy and cuckoldom should be looked upon as reproaches; and that the ignominy which is only due to lewdness and falsehood, should fall in so unreasonable a manner upon the persons who are innocent.

I have been insensibly drawn into this discourse by the following letter, which is drawn up with such a spirit of sincerity, that I question not but the writer of it has represented his case in a true and genuine light.

'SIR,-I am one of those people who by the general opinion of the world are counted both infamous and unhappy.

My father is a very eminent man in this kingdom, and one who bears considerable offices in it. I am his son, but my misfortune is, that I dare not call him father, nor he without shame own me as his issue, I being illegitimate, and therefore deprived of that endearing tenderness and unparalleled satisfaction which a good man finds in the love and conversation of a parent. Neither have I the opportunities to render him the duties of a son, he having always carried himself at so vast a distance, and with such superiority towards me, that by long use I have contracted a timorousness when before him, which hinders me from declaring my own necessities, and giving him to understand the inconveniences I undergo.

'I am thought to be a man of some natural parts, and by the continual reading what you have offered the world, become an admirer thereof, which has drawn me to make this confession; at the same time hoping, if any thing herein shall touch you with a sense of pity, you would then allow me the favour of your opinion thereupon; as also what part Í, being unlawfully born, may claim of the man's affection who begot me, and how far in your opinion I am to be thought his son, or he acknowledged as my father. Your sentiments and advice herein will be a great consolation and satisfaction to, sir, your admirer, &c. C.

'W. B.'

No. 204.] Wednesday, October 24, 1711.
Urit grata protervitas,

Et vultus nimium lubricus aspici.
Hor. Lib. 1. Od. xix. 7.

Her face too dazzling for the sight,
Her winning coyness fires my soul,

I feel a strange delight.

I AM not at all displeased that I am become the courier of love, and that the distressed in that passion convey their complaints to each other by my means. The following letters have lately come to my hands, and shall have their place with great willingness. As to the reader's entertainment, he will, I hope, forgive the inserting such particulars as to him may perhaps seem frivolous, but are to the persons who wrote them of the highest consequence. I shall not trouble you with the prefaces, compliments, and apologies made to me before each epistle when it was desired to be inserted; but in general they tell me, that the persons to whom they are addressed have intimations, by phrases and allusions in them, from whence they came.

To the Sahades.

The word, by which I address you, gives you, who understand Portuguese,* a

*The following is Mr. Chalmers's excellent definition of the meaning of this significant word.

It is my misfortune to have been neither bred a scholar, a soldier, nor to any kind of written Sothades) signifies the most refined, most ten"The Portuguese word Saudades (here inaccurately ousiness, which renders me entirely inca-der and ardent desires for something absent, accompapable of making provision for myself with- nied with a solicitude and anxious regard, which canout his assistance; and this creates a con-Saudade,' say the dictionaries, significa, Finissimo not be expressed by one word in any other language. tinual uneasiness in my mind, fearing I shall sentimiento del bier ansente, com desco de posseerlo. in time want bread; my father, if I may so Hence, the word Saudades comprehends every good call him, giving me but very faint assur- compliment that can be paid to another. So, if a perances of doing any thing for me. son is observed to be melancholy, and is asked What ails him? if he answers, Tenho Sausades, it is underfor the absence of my love; or from being absent from my country,' &c."

I have hitherto lived somewhat like a gentleman, and it would be very hard for me to labour for my living. I am in con

wish and Muitas Sausades is the highest wish and

stood to mean, I am under the most refined torment

No. 204.]

THE SPECTATOR.

lively image of the tender regard I have for you. The Spectator's late letter from Statira gave me the hint to use the same method of explaining myself to you. I am not affronted at the design your late behaviour discovered you had in your addresses to me; but I impute it to the degeneracy of the age, rather than your particular fault. As I aim at nothing more than being yours, I am willing to be a stranger to your name, your fortune, or any figure which your wife might expect to make in the world, provided my commerce with you is not to be a guilty one. I resign gay dress, the pleasures of visits, equipage, plays, balls, and operas, for that one satisfaction of having you for ever mine. I am willing you shall industriously conceal the only cause of triumph which I can know in this life. I wish only to have it my duty, as well as my inclination, to study your happiness. If this has not the effect this letter seems to aim at, you are to understand that I had a mind to be rid of you, and took the readiest way to pall you with an offer of what you would never desist pursuing while you received ill usage. Be a true man; be my slave while you doubt me, and neglect me when you think I love you. I defy you to find out what is your present circumstance with me; but I know while I can keep this suspense, BELINDA.' I am your admired,

'MADAM,-It is a strange state of mind a man is in, when the very imperfections of a woman he loves turns into excellences and advantages. I do assure you, I am very much afraid of venturing upon you. I now like you in spite of my reason, and think it an ill circumstance to owe one's happiness to nothing but infatuation. I can see you ogle all the young fellows who look at you, and observe your eye wander after new conquests every moment you are in a public place; and yet there is such a beauty in all your looks and gestures, that I cannot but admire you in the very act of endeavouring to gain the hearts of others. My condition is the same with that of the lover in the Way of the World. I have studied your faults so long, that they are become as familiar to me, and I like them as well as I do my own. Look to it, madam, and consider whether you think this gay behaviour will appear to me as amiable when an husband, as it does now to me a lover. Things are so far advanced, that we must proceed; and I hope you will lay to heart, that it will be becoming in me to appear still your lover, but not in you to be still my mistress. Gaiety in the matrimonial life is graceful in one sex, but exceptionable in the other. As you improve these little hints, you will ascertain the happiness or uneasiness of, madam, your most obedient, most humble

Since you have the secret at last, which I
am sure you should never have known but
by inadvertency, what my eyes said was
true. But it is too soon to confirm it with
my hand, therefore shall not subscribe my
name.'

'SIR,-There were other gentlemen
nearer, and I know no necessity you were
under to take up that flippant creature's
fan, last night; but you shall never touch a
stick of mine more, that's pos.
PHILLIS,'

"To Colonel Rs in Spain.

'Before this can reach the best of husbands and the fondest lover, those tender names will be of no more concern to me. The indisposition in which you, to obey the dictates of your honour and duty, left me, has increased upon me; and I am acquainted by my physicians I cannot live a week longer. At this time my spirits fail me; and it is the ardent love I have for you that carries me beyond my strength, and enables me to tell you, the most painful thing in the prospect of death is, that I must part with you. But let it be a comfort to you, that I have no guilt hangs upon me, no unrepented folly that retards me; but I pass away my last hours in reflection upon the happiness we have lived in together, and in sorrow that it is so soon to have an end.

This is a frailty which I hope is so far from criminal, that methinks there is a kind of piety in being so unwilling to be separated from a state which is the institution of heaven, and in which we have lived according to its laws. As we know no more of the next life, but that it will be an happy one to the good, and miserable to the wicked, why may we not please ourselves at least to alleviate the difficulty of resigning this being, in imagining that we shall have a sense of what passes below, and may possibly be employed in guiding the steps of those with whom we walked with innocence when mortal? Why may not I hope to go on in my usual work, and, though unknown to you, be assistant in all the conflicts of your mind? Give me leave to say to you, O best of men, that I cannot figure to myself a greater happiness than in such an employment. To be present at all the adventures to which human life is exposed, to administer slumber to thy eyelids in the agonies of a fever, to cover thy beloved face in the day of battle, to go with thee a guardian angel incapable of wound or pain, where I have longed to attend thee when a weak, a fearful woman: these, my dear, are the thoughts with which I warm my poor languid heart. But indeed I am not capable, under my present weakness, of bearing the strong agonies of mind I fall into, when I form to myself the grief you will be in, upon your first hearing of my departure. I will not dwell upon this, because your kind and generous heart will be but the more afflicted, the more the person

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iday, October 26, 1711.

ue sibi plura negaverit,

eret

L.

Hor. Lib. 3. Od. xvi. 21.

much themselves deny,
blessings from the sky.-Creech.
call upon mankind to value
hose who set a moderate price
own merit; and self-denial is
ttended with unexpected bless-
in the end abundantly recom-
losses as the modest seem to
de ordinary occurrences of life.
is tell us, a determination in our
to our disadvantage is made upon
appearance, even before they
thing of our characters, but from
ations men gather from our aspect.
they say, wears the picture of his

his countenance; and one man's e spectacles to his, who looks at him I his heart. But though that way of 5 an opinion of those we behold in c is very fallacious, certain it is, that

who by their words and actions take uch upon themselves, as they can but ely demand in the strict scrutiny of their serts, will find their account lessen every y. A modest man preserves his characr, as a frugal man does his fortune; if ither of them live to the height of either, one will find losses, the other errors, which he has not stock by him to make up. It were therefore a just rule, to keep your desires, your words, and actions, within the regard you observe your friends have for y you, and never, if it were in a man's power, to take as much as he possibly might, on) either in preferment or reputation. My walks have lately been among the mercantile part of the world; and one gets phrases naturally from those with whom one conI say, then, he that in his air, his treatment of others, or an habitual arrogance to himself, gives himself credit for the least article of more wit, wisdom, goodness, or valour, than he can possibly produce if he is called upon, will find the world break in upon him, and consider him as one who has cheated them of all the esteem they had before allowed him. This brings a commission of bankruptcy upon him; and he that might have gone on to his life's end in a prosperous way, by aiming at more than he should, is no longer proprietor of what he really had before, but his pretensions fare as all things do which are torn instead of being divided.

that

as she

in this int her, ent tune is a sort

I am,

R. S.'

paper upon us a rule of Temple, in first glass for iends, the third fourth for mine must know, that ectator, in a club ; when our presirtainly an error in word glass should has ordered me to take, and to desire

verses.

There is no one living would deny Cinna the applause of an agreeable and facetious wit; or could possibly pretend that there is not something inimitably unforced and diverting in his manner of delivering all his

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