last night in the hall these holy-days; when I lay down and was blinded, she pulled off her shoe, and hit me with the heel such a rap, as almost broke my head to pieces. Pray, sir, was this love or spite?' T.

make our present state agreeable, but often determine our happiness to all eternity. Where the choice is left to friends, the chief point under consideration is an estate; where the parties choose for themselves, their thoughts turn most upon the person. They have both their reasons. The first

No. 261.] Saturday, December 29, 1711. would procure many conveniences and plea

sures of life to the party whose interests they espouse; and at the same time may hope that the wealth of their friends will turn to their own credit and advantage. The others are preparing for themselves a perpetual feast. A good person does not only raise but continue love, and breeds a secret pleasure and complacency in the beholder, when the first heats of desire are extinguished. It puts the wife or husband in countenance, both among friends and strangers, and generally fills the family with a healthy and beautiful race of children.

Wedlock's an ill men eagerly embrace: My father, whom I mentioned in my first speculation, and whom I must always name with honour and gratitude, has very frequently talked to me upon the subject of marriage. I was in my younger years engaged partly by his advice, and partly by my own inclinations, in the courtship of a person who had a great deal of beauty, and did not at my first approaches seem to have any aversion to me; but as my natural taciturnity hindered me from showing myself to the best advantage, she by degrees began to look upon me as a very silly fellow, and being resolved to regard merit more than any thing else in the persons who made their applications to her, she married a captain of dragoons, who happened to be beating up for recruits in those parts. This unlucky accident has given me an Good-nature and evenness of temper will aversion to pretty fellows ever since, and give you an easy companion for life; virtue discouraged me from trying my fortune and good sense, an agreeable friend; love with the fair sex. The observations which and constancy, a good wife or husband. I made at this conjuncture, and the re- Where we meet one person with all these peated advices which I received at that accomplishments, we find a hundred withtime from the good old man above-men-out any one of them. The world, notwithtioned, have produced the following essay upon love and marriage.

The pleasantest part of a man's life is generally that which passes in courtship, provided his passion be sincere, and the party beloved, kind with discretion. Love, desire, hope, all the pleasing emotions of the soul rise in the pursuit.

I should prefer a woman that is agreeable in my own eye, and not deformed in that of the world, to a celebrated beauty. If you marry one remarkably beautiful, you must have a violent passion for her, or you have not the proper taste for her charms; and if you have such a passion for her, it is odds but it would be embittered with fears and jealousies.

standing, is more intent on trains and equipages, and all the showy parts of life: we love rather to dazzle the multitude than consult our proper interests; and as I have elsewhere observed, it is one of the most unaccountable passions of human nature, that we are at greater pains to appear easy and happy to others than really to make It is easier for an artfal man who is not ourselves so. Of all disparities, that in huin love, to persuade his mistress he has a mour makes the most unhappy marriages, passion for her, and to succeed in his pur-yet scarce enters into our thoughts at the suits, than for one who loves with the greatest violence. True love has ten thousand griefs, impatiences, and resentments, that render a man unamiable in the eyes of the person whose affection he solicits; besides that, it sinks his figure, gives him fears, apprehensions, and poorness of spirit, and often makes him appear ridiculous where he has a mind to recommend himself.

Those marriages generally abound most with love and constancy, that are preceded by long courtship. The passion should strike root, and gather strength before marriage be grafted on it. A long course of hopes and expectations fixes the idea in our minds, and habituates us to a fondness of the person beloved.

There is nothing of so great importance to us as the good qualities of one to whom we join ourselves for life; they do not only

contracting of them. Several that are in this respect unequally yoked, and uneasy for life with a person of a particular character, might have been pleased and happy with a person of a contrary one, notwithstanding they are both perhaps equally virtuous and laudable in their kind.

Before marriage we cannot be too inquisitive and discerning in the faults of the person beloved, nor after it too din-sighted and superficial. However perfect and accomplished the person appears to you at a distance, you will find many blemishes and imperfections in her humour, upon a more intimate acquaintance, which you never discovered or perhaps suspected. Here, therefore, discretion and good-nature are to show their strength; the first will hinder your thoughts from dwelling on what is disagreeable, the other will raise in you all the tenderness of compassion and humanity,

and by degrees soften those very imperfec-|ficed their good sense and virtue to their tions into beauties. fame and reputation. No man is so sunk Marriage enlarges the scene of our hap-in vice and ignorance but there are still piness and miseries. A marriage of love some hidden seeds of goodness and knowis pleasant; a marriage of interest easy; and ledge in him; which give him a relish of a marriage where both meet, happy. A such reflections and speculations as have happy marriage has in it all the pleasures an aptness to improve the mind, and make of friendship, all the enjoyments of sense the heart better. and reason; and, indeed, all the sweets of life. Nothing is a greater mark of a degenerate and vicious age, than the common ridicule which passes on this state of life. It is, indeed, only happy in those who can look down with scorn and neglect on the impieties of the times, and tread the paths of life together in a constant uniform course of virtue.

No. 263.1

THE SPECTATOR.

such authors as I could not name with honour. This I must confess to have been a piece of very great self-denial: for as the public relishes nothing better than the ridicule which turns upon a writer of any eminence, so there is nothing which a man that has but a very ordinary talent in ridicule may execute with greater ease. One might raise laughter for a quarter of a year together upon the works of a person who has published but a very few volumes. For which reason I am astonished, that those who have appeared against this paper have made so very little of it. The criticisms which I have hitherto published, have been made with an intention rather to discover beauties and excellences in the writers of my own time, than to publish any of their faults and imperfections. In the mean while I should take it for a very great favour from some of my underhand detractors, if they would break all measures with me, so far as to give me a pretence for examining their performances with an impartial eye: nor shall I look upon it as any breach of charity to criticise the author, so long as I keep clear of the person. In the mean while, until I am provoked to such hostilities, I shall from time to time endeavour to do justice to those who have distinguished themselves in the politer parts of learning, and to point out such beauties in their works as may have escaped the observation of others.

I am glad, that he whom I must have loved from duty,
inclination.
whatever he had been, is such a one as I can love from

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am the happy fa-
ther of a very towardly son, in whom I do
not only see my life, but also my manner of
life renewed. It would be extremely bene-
ficial to society, if you would frequently re-
sume subjects which serve to bind these sort
of relations faster, and endear the ties of
blood with those of good-will, protection,
observance, indulgence, and veneration. I
would, methinks, have this done after an
uncommon method, and do not think any
one, who is not capable of writing a good
play, fit to undertake a work wherein there
will necessarily occur so many secret in-
stincts, and biases of human nature which
would pass unobserved by common eyes. I
thank Heaven I have no outrageous offence
against my own excellent parents to answer
for; but when I am now and then alone,
and look back upon my past life, from my
earliest infancy to this time, there are many
faults which I committed that did not ap-
pear to me even until I myself became a
father. I had not until then a notion of the
yearnings of heart, which a man has when
he sees his child do a laudable thing, or the
sudden damp which seizes him when he
fears he will act something unworthy. It is
not to be imagined, what a remorse touched
me for a long train of childish negligences
of my mother, when I saw my wife the
other day look out of the window, and turn
as pale as ashes upon seeing my younger
boy sliding upon the ice. These slight in-
timations will give you to understand, that
there are numberlesss little crimes which
children take no notice of while they are
doing, which, upon reflection, when they
shall themselves become fathers, they will
look upon with the utmost sorrow and con-
trition, that they did not regard before those
whom they offended were to be no more
seen. How many thousand things do I re-
member which would have highly pleased
my father, and I omitted for no other rea-
son, but that I thought what he proposed
the effect of humour and old age, which I
am now convinced had reason and good
sense in it. I cannot now go into the par-
lour to him, and make his heart glad with
an account of a matter which was of no
consequence, but that I told it, and acted in
it. The good man and woman are long
since in their graves, who used to sit and
plot the welfare of us their children, while,
perhaps, we were sometimes laughing at
the old folks at another end of the house.
The truth of it is, were we merely to follow
nature in these great duties of life, though
we have a strong instinct towards the per-
forming of them, we should be on both sides
very deficient. Age is so unwelcome to the
generality of mankind, and growth towards
manhood so desirable to all, that resigna-
tion to decay is too difficult a task in the
father; and deference, amidst the impulse

No.263.] Tuesday, January 1, 1711-12.
Gratulor quod eum quem necesse erat diligere, qualis.
cunque esset, talem habemus ut libenter quoque diliga-
Trebonius apud Tull.

tion, and that grounded upon the principles of reason, not the impulses of instinct.

of gay desires, appears unreasonable to the son. There are so few who can grow old with a good grace, and yet fewer who can come 'It is from the common prejudices which slow enough into the world, that a father, men receive from their parents, that hatreds were he to be actuated by his desires, and are kept alive from one generation to ana son, were he to consult himself only, other; and when men act by instinct, hatreds could neither of them behave himself as he will descend when good offices are forgotought to the other. But when reason inter- ten. For the degeneracy of human life is poses against instinct, where it would carry such, that our anger is more easily transeither out of the interests of the other, there ferred to our children than our love. Love arises that happiest intercourse of good always gives something to the object it deoffices between those dearest relations of lights in, and anger spoils the person against numan life. The father, according to the whom it is moved of something laudable in opportunities which are offered to him, is him; from this degeneracy, therefore, and throwing down blessings on the son, and the a sort of self-love, we are more prone to son endeavouring to appear the worthy off-take up the ill-will of our parents, than to spring of such a father. It is after this follow them in their friendships. manner that Camillus and his first-born 'One would think there should need no dwell together. Camillus enjoys a pleasing more to make men keep up this sort of reand indolent old age, in which passion is lation with the utmost sanctity, than to exsubdued, and reason exalted. He waits the amine their own hearts. If every father day of his dissolution with a resignation remembered his own thoughts and inclinamixed with delight; and the son fears the tions when he was a son, and every son reaccession of his father's fortune with dif-membered what he expected from his fidence, lest he should not enjoy or become father, when he himself was in a state of it as well as his predecessor. Add to this, dependence, this one reflection would prethat the father knows he leaves a friend to serve men from being dissolute or rigid in the children of his friends, an easy landlord these several capacities. The power and to his tenants, and an agreeable companion subjection between them, when broken, to his acquaintance. He believes his son's make them more emphatically tyrants and behaviour will make him frequently re-rebels against each other, with greater membered, but never wanted. This commerce is so well cemented, that without the pomp of saying, "Son, be a friend to such a one when I am gone;" Camillus knows, being in his favour is direction enough to the grateful youth who is to succeed him, without the admonition of his mentioning it. 'DEAR FRANK,-If the pleasures, which These gentlemen are honoured in all their I have the grief to hear you pursue in town, neighbourhood; and the same effect which do not take up all your time, do not deny the court has on the manners of a kingdom, your mother so much of it as to read setheir characters have on all who live with-riously this letter. You said before Mr. in the influence of them.

'My son and I are not of fortune to communicate our good actions or intentions to so many as these gentlemen do; but I will be bold to say, my son has, by the applause and approbation which his behaviour towards me has gained him, occasioned that many an old man besides myself has rejoiced. Other men's children follow the example of mine, and I have the inexpressible happiness of overhearing our neighbours, as we ride by, point to their children, and say, with a voice of joy, "There they go.'

"You cannot, Mr. Spectator, pass your time better than in insinuating the delights which these relations well regarded bestow upon each other. Ordinary passages are no longer such, but mutual love gives an importance to the most indifferent things, and a merit to actions the most insignificant. When we look round the world and observe the many misunderstandings which are ⚫ created by the malice and insinuation of the meanest servants between people thus related, how necessary will it appear that it were inculcated that men would be upon their guard to support a constancy of affec

cruelty of heart, than the disruption of states and empires can possibly produce. I shall end this application to you with two letters which passed between a mother and son very lately, and are as follows:

Letacre, that an old woman might live very well in the country upon half my jointure, and that your father was a fond fool to give me a rent charge of eight hundred a year to the prejudice of his son. What Letacre said to you upon that occasion, you ought to have borne with more decency, as he was your father's well-beloved servant, than to have called him a country-put. In the first place, Frank, I must tell you, I will have my rent duly paid, for I will make up to your sisters for the partiality I was guilty of, in making your father do so much as he has done for you. I may, it seems, live upon half my jointure! I lived upon much less, Frank, when I carried you from place to place in these arms, and could neither eat, dress, or mind any thing for feeding and tending you, a weakly child, and shedding tears when the convulsions you were then troubled with returned upon you. By my care you outgrew them, to throw away the vigour of your youth in the arms of harlots, and deny your mother what is not yours to detain. Both your sisters are crying to see the passion which I smother; but if you please to go on thus like a gentle

man of the town, and forget all regards to old fellow shall wear this or that sort of cut yourself and family, I shall immediately in his clothes with great integrity, while all enter upon your estate for the arrear due to me, and without one tear more, contemn you for forgetting the fondness of your mother, as much as you have the example of your father. O Frank, do I live to omit writing myself, your affectionate mother,

'A. T.' 'MADAM,-I will come down to-morrow and pay the money on my knees. Pray write so no more. I will take care you never shall, for I will be for ever hereafter your most dutiful son, F. T.

the rest of the world are degenerated into buttons, pockets, and loops unknown to their ancestors. As insignificant as even this is, if it were searched to the bottom, you perhaps would find it not sincere, but that he is in the fashion in his heart, and holds out from mere obstinacy. But I am running from my intended purpose, which was to celebrate a certain particular manner of passing away life, in contradiction to no man, but with a resolution to contract. none of the exorbitant desires by which others are enslaved. The best way of sepa

'I will bring down new hoods for my rating a man's self from the world, is to sisters. Pray let all be forgotten.'

T.

give up the desire of being known to it. After a man has preserved his innocence, and performed all duties incumbent upon

"No. 264.] Wednesday, January 2, 1711-12. him, his time spent in his own way is what

-Secretum iter et fallentis semita vitæ.
Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xviii. 103.
ADAPTED.

makes his life differ from that of a slave. If they who affect show and pomp knew how many of their spectators derided their In public walks let who will shine or stray, trivial taste, they would be very much less I'll silent steal through life in my own way. elated, and have an inclination to examine IT has been from age to age an affectation the merit of all they have to do with: they to love the pleasure of solitude, among those would soon find out that there are many who cannot possibly be supposed qualified who make a figure below what their fortune for passing life in that manner. This people or merit entitles them to, out of mere choice, have taken up from reading the many agree- and an elegant desire of ease and disinable things which have been written on that cumbrance. It would look like romance to subject, for which we are beholden to ex- tell you in this age, of an old man who is cellent persons who delighted in being re- contented to pass for a humourist, and one tired, and abstracted from the pleasures who does not understand the figure he ought that enchant the generality of the world. to make in the world, while he lives in a This way of life, is recommended indeed lodging of ten shillings a week, with only with great beauty, and in such a manner as one servant; while he dresses himself acdisposes the reader for the time to a pleas-cording to the season in cloth or in stuff, ing forgetfulness, or negligence of the particular hurry of life in which he is engaged, together with a longing for that state which he is charmed with in description. But when we consider the world itself, and how few there are capable of a religious, learned, or philosophical solitude, we shall be apt to change a regard to that sort of solitude, for being a little singular in enjoying time after the way a man himself likes best in the world, without going so far as wholly to withdraw from it. I have often observed, there is not a man breathing who does not differ from all other men, as much • in the sentiments of his mind as the features of his face. The felicity is, when any one is so happy as to find out and follow what is the proper bent of his genius, and turn all his endeavours to exert himself according as that prompts him. Instead of this, which is an innocent method of enjoying a man's self, and turning out of the general tracks wherein you have crowds of rivals, there are those who pursue their own way out of a sourness and spirit of contradiction. These men do every thing which they are able to support, as if guilt and impunity could not go together. They choose a thing only because another dislikes it; and affect forsooth an inviolable constancy in matters of no manner of moment. Thus sometimes an

and has no one necessary attention to any thing but the bell which calls to prayers twice a-day: I say it would look like a fable to report that this gentleman gives away all' which is the overplus of a great fortune by secret methods to other men. If he has not the pomp of a numerous train, and of professors of service to him, he has every day he lives the conscience that the widow, the fatherless, the mourner, and the stranger bless his unseen hand in their prayers. This humourist gives up all the compliments which people of his own condition could make him, for the pleasure of helping the afflicted, supplying the needy, and befriending the neglected. This humourist keeps to himself much more than he wants, and gives a vast refuse of his superfluities to purchase heaven, and by freeing others from the temptations of worldly want, to. carry a retinue with him thither.

Of all men who affect living in a particular way, next to this admirable_character, I am the most enamoured of Irus, whose condition will not admit of such largesses, and who perhaps would not be capable of making them if it were. Irus, though he is now turned of fifty, has not appeared in the world in his real character since five-andtwenty, at which age he ran out a small patrimony, and spent some time after with