The
Female Spectator.

Book XIX.

As we are desirous of preventing all
Suspicion of any Partiality in us
to one Correspondent more than
another, we established it as a
Rule at our first setting out, that
whatever we found proper to have a Place in
these Essays, should be inserted in the Order in
which it was received.

This Method, which we have all along punctually
observed, we flatter ourselves will excuse
us to the Authors of many excellent Pieces,
which have lately been communicated to us for
the Service of the Public, that we give the Preference
to that of Eumenes, as being the first
that came to Hand.

Vol. IV. A Neither A1v 4

Neither is it possible for any one to be deceived
in this Point, were we capable of attempting
it, because the Dates of the Epistles themselves
would rise up against us.

Thus much we thought it necessary to say,
because we are told some Whispers, of an Accusation
of this Nature, have been spread Abroad,
to the Prejudice of that Character of Sincerity
we are determined never to forfeit.

“To the Female Spectator. Madam, Ihave so little Pretentions to the Title of
an Author, that the Vanity which is imputed
to them would be insufferably ridiculous
in me:――I am therefore so far from being
any way disgusted at your omitting some Part
of my former Epistle, that I should have readily
excused your curtailing much more if you
had found it proper. But how much soever I may be satisfied as
to this Point, I cannot acknowledge myself so
in another, and more material one.――I hoped
to have found the Female Spectator would
have improved on the few Hints I had given
her, and exerted the Talent she is so perfect a
Mistress of, in setting before the Eyes of my
worthy Fellow-Citizens of London, what best
becomes both their Interest and Reputation in
the World. ‘The A2r 5 The little you have said, notwithstanding,
convinces me of the true Esteem and Good-
will you bear to a Body of People, who, if
they are not at present the Envy of their
Neighbours, it is wholly owing to themselves,
and at the same Time makes me fear you said
no more, only because you find too much Reason
to apprehend, that they are so far sunk in
Luxury, and an unhappy Infatuation, as to be
ranked among the Number of the Incorrigibles. But, Madam, to do Justice to them, as well
as to the Force of even that short, though pathetic
Remonstrance, you were pleased to make,
I must beg Leave to acquaint you, that there
is more than one Family, to my Knowledge,
who have had Sense enough to be awakened
by it from their long Lethargy, and to perceive
the Precipice they were about unwarily to
plunge into. Many more, I am apt to flatter myself,
will be ashamed of their past Conduct; and
as I can assure you what you have said has been
in general well received, it is more than barely
possible a much greater Success will crown
your Labours in the End, than even you yourself,
with all your Spectatorial Capacity, can
foresee, or perhaps are fearful of being too
sanguine in the Expectation of. Time has brought greater Wonders to Perfection
than this; and would you vouchsafe ‘sometimes A2v 6
sometimes to mingle in your Lucubrations
some Admonitions for so desirable a Purpose,
I do not doubt but you will one Day see the
good Effects of it. In the mean Time I think it highly fit I
should comply with your Request, and accordingly
send you enclosed some farther Account
of the Topsy Turvy Island, as I faithfully transcribed
it from that Book of Voyages mentioned
in my last. If it will afford any agreeable Reflections
to your Society, or Entertainment to your Readers,
I shall think myself happy in the Power
of contributing to what I so sincerely wish, being,
with the greatest Respect, Madam,
Yours, and your fair Associates,
Most humble and most devoted Servant, Eumenes. Austin-Fryars,
1745-09-12Sept.12, 1745.”

The following Piece is the Transcript our
ingenious Correspondent has obliged us with;
which, it is easy to see, is composed of several
select Parts of the History, such as I suppose
he found would be most pleasing, or most proper
to be inserted in a Work of this Nature.

“The Topsy Turvy Island is so little known ‘in A3r 7
in these Parts of the World, that the Adventures
I am about to relate would seem dark
and intricate, if not fabulous to my Readers,
if I did not first give them some Idea of the
Nature of the Place in which they were transacted.
I shall therefore present them with a general
and succinct Account of such Things as came
within the Reach of my Observation, and leave
those which I confess myself to have been unable
to fathom, to be supplied by Imagination;
premising only thus much, that I will not impose
on the Understanding of any one, by pretending
to discover more than in effect I was
able to do. As to the Geography it matters not, for
I believe few will be ambitious of taking a
Voyage thither; therefore consequently would
be of no manner of Service: Besides, indeed,
I must confess myself utterly incapable of relating
in what Degree of Latitude this remote
Country lies, arriving there by very extraordinary
Means, and in which the Compass was
entirely useless; so I shall only say, it is situated
on a Branch of that wide Ocean which
divides America from the rest of the Globe,
and passing by the Elbow, if I may so call it,
of the Pacific Sea, runs through the Heart of
that great Continent, which we, not having yet
been able to explore, call by no other Name
than that of Terra Incognita. ‘It A3v 8 It would, doubtless, be easy for me to supply
this Deficiency by Invention, and pretend
to have said the Island is North of such a
Place, and South of such a Place, being in no
Danger of being confuted by any present or
future Columbus; but I was bred in a Detestation
of all Deceit, and tho’ I am yet arrived,
after ten Years Travels, at no higher Post than
a Midshipman, could not answer to my own
Soul the Meanness of a Lye in any Shape, or
to answer any End:—I therefore flatter myself,
that the Discoveries I have been able to make
will more than attone for the Want of those,
which, with all my Endeavours, I found it impossible
to attain. As to the Climate it is exceeding healthy,
and those not only of the Inhabitants, but
also Strangers who happen to come there, and
value Life enough to take a proper Care of
it, may live to an extreme old Age:――Nor
did Heaven ever bless a Spot of Earth with a
greater Plenty of every thing necessary for the
Support of Nature: The Meadows are covered
with the finest Cattle I ever saw, and
abound with the most excellent Pasturage for
their Nourishment:—Their Fields seldom fail
to crown the Toil of the laborious Husbandman
with a full Crop:—Rivers which may vie
with the most celebrated ones in Europe, and
afford a vast Variety of delicious Fish:—Their
Fruits are also exquisite, and the Juice of some
of them make a Wine not inferior to the best ‘Burgundy, B1r 9
Burgundy, or Frontiniac; and the Kernels of
others yield an Oil, at least equal to that of
Lucca:――Then they have such a Glut of all
kinds of Poultry, both wild and tame, that
though it is of a more delicate Relish than any
I ever tasted in these Parts of the World,
the excessive Cheapness renders it Food only
for the common People. Their Seasons are little different from
ours, excepting that the Days are considerably
longer, and what is very strange, less sultry,
even in the Meridian of the Sun, than we feel
in its Decline:—The Air is wholly free from
all Storms and Corruscations, and whenever
any Fog arises, it is always in the Night, and
consequently of but small Annoyance. As to their Form of Government, they
tell you, it is Republican; nor indeed, have
they any King, Matters of State being transacted
by a certain Number of Men, whom
they chuse among themselves, and pay an implicit
Obedience to, during the Time prefixed
for their Rule, which is nine Years, at the Expiration
of which they resign their Authority,
and others are called in. This they call a State of perfect Freedom,
yet it is, in effect, the worst of Slavery; and no
Man has the Command of his own Property
any more than under those Governments Vol. IV. B ‘which B1v 10
which are looked upon as most despotic. The
Reason of it is this: The Island, though governed by its own
Laws, is a kind of an Appendix to a great Monarch
on the Continent, by whom it had formerly
been conquered: This Prince, though
he flatters them with a Shew of Liberty, has
it always in his Power to enforce or sooth
them into Compliance with whatever he desires;
and should these pretended Rulers in
the least offer to oppose his Will, he would
come down with Fire and Sword, and lay the
whole Country waste: So that their Condition
is infinitely worse, than if it had been even under
the worst Princes of their own. But there is little Occasion to expatiate on
this Fate, because every one knows the unhappy
Situation of a Country, which, from
being perfectly independent, is reduced to be
no more than a Province to another. The present Race of the Topsy Turvyans
are, however, too indolent to reflect on their
Misfortunes, and being by degrees subjected to
the Yoke, seem quite contented under it: They
see, without repining, the richest of their Produce
carried every Year to the Continent; all
the Beauties of their Fields and Gardens ransacked,
what for so many Months they have
been cultivating, born away before their Eyes,
yet are content with the Gleanings of what scattered‘tered B2r 11
Remnants they can pick up for their own
Use. I am sensible this will scarce gain Credit in
England, yet it is no more than a Truth my
own Eyes have been witness of. As to their Laws, nothing can be better calculated
for the Happiness and well ordering
of Society; but the Execution of them is entirely
out of Use, and they hang up, like the
Skin of an Allegator in an Apothecary’s Shop,
rather for Shew than Service: Their Customs,
Manners, and Behaviour are so much the Reverse
of what they were some Ages past, that
one would think it impossible the Topsy Turvyans
I saw should ever be descended from
Persons capable of framing so excellent a Constitution,
and Statutes for supporting it. Certain it is, notwithstanding, that they
were once a wise and gallant People; but
Avarice on the one Hand, and Luxury on the
other, have poisoned and enervated all their
nobler Passions, and rendered them, both in
public and private Life, no less deserving of
Contempt than formerly they were of Veneration
and Esteem. The Island, though no more than an hundred
and fifty Miles in Length, and not quite
forty in Breadth, contains two Cities and several
very populous Towns: There is also an B2 University, B2v 12
University, or rather an Academy; but how
much those who are educated there, at least
those of them who are too great to submit to
Rules, profit by their Studies, the Reader may
guess, by what I have said in another Place of
their Conduct and Behaviour. The Youth, however, pride themselves
very much on their Return from thence, and
look down with a kind of Scorn on those who
have not been allowed this seeming Advantage. As it will doubtless be expected I should say
something of their Towns and Cities, I shall
give as exact an Account of these also as possible:
—Their Streets are, generally speaking,
very narrow, and the Buildings irregular, except
in the Capital, where somewhat more Care
and Skill seems to have been employed. It is very plain, that Architecture is a Science
these Islanders were never practised in;
for the Palaces of their greatest Men, and even
those of the Theodo’s, or High Priests, are extremely
rude and barbarous, though adorned,
after their Manner, with precious Stones and
Gold. I must observe, that Gold is not coined
here, as in other Countries, into Money, nor
will any that is so pass among them; but it is
used in Furniture, and bought with a kind of
mixed Metal, which we have nothing in Europe,‘rope, B3r 13
nor any where else in the known World,
that ever I heard of, that in the least resembles
it. Their Temples are very little ornamented,
and less frequented; they are also for the
most part low-roofed, and quite overlooked
by the Palace of the Chief Theodo of that
District, who always lives near, and by his capacious
Hall seems to be superior to the Diety
he pretends to serve. The Houses of the Nobility, and great
Officers of State, are not wanting in Richness,
whatever Deficiencies there may be in Elegance;
but those of the inferior Gentry and
Mechanics shew, by their Decay and wretched
Appearance, the Hardships and miserable
Condition their Owners labour under. I have said there were good Laws; but
what will appear very strange, throughout the
whole Island there is not one Court of Judicature,
all Affairs relating to Meum and Tuum
being decided by the Persons at the Helm; so
that it often happens that the younger Branches
of a Family inherit, and the elder are turned
out to starve, according as Interest and Favour
directs. But as Gaming is the chief Business, as well
as Amusement of the Topsy-Turvyans, large
Halls are erected for that Purpose, not only ‘in B3v 14
in every Quarter of the Capital, but also in
every Town, and even little Village. The Doors of these Halls being kept continually
open, both Night and Day, it is
amazing to see what Numbers of People are
always crowding in to pay their Adorations
to the Goddess Fortune, whose Image is placed
at the upper End under a magnificent Canopy.
—All Ages, all Degrees, all Sects, unite in
this universal Worship:――All Reserve,—all
Pride of Birth,_――all Difference in Opinion is
here entirely laid aside:—The Prince and the
Pedlar,—the Lady that keeps the Chariot, and
the Drab that trowls the Wheelbarrow,—the
Prude and the avowed Prostitute,—the Ecclesiastic
and the Ballad-singer are on equal
Foot:――Nothing but Gain, dear Gain is regarded,
and the Lord has as little Remorse for
winning from the Cobler all he is Master of in
the whole World, though the Wretch hangs
himself the next Morning for the Loss, as he
would for having got the same Sum, from
him who could best spare it in the Company:
But Ruin and Destruction are with them more
Matters of Mirth and Derision than Pity or
Relief. These are all the Edifices of Note that I
remember, except the Theatre, which indeed
is tolerable as to the Building, were it intended
for another Use, but ridiculous for that to
which it is put:――If originally erected for a B4r 15
a Play-house, as they told me it was, never
sure was so great a Blunderer as the Architect;
for the Stage being round in the Manner of a
a Cock-Pit, those of the Audience, who sit in
one half of the Circle, can only see the Actors
Backs. I must own, indeed, that according to the
Performances exhibited there, this is little to be
regarded, for the Person who has the Management
of this very grand Affair, as it is accounted,
perceiving the Audiences begin to slacken,
and at length become so thin, that there was
seldom sufficient to defray the Expence, in
Compliance with the fantastic Humour of the
Age, and bring more Company, introduced a
new kind of Entertainment; which was to
bring twenty or thirty Asses on the Stage, dressed
in Ribbands, and hung round with Bells. This, like all other Novelties in so capricious
a Nation, afforded infinite Satisfaction;
and when the poor Creatures, unused to such
harnessing, happened to bray, or to knock their
Heads one against the other, as they often
did, the whole House ecchoed with Acclamations,
as if some elegant Piece of Wit had been
performed. Btut this Mode of Diversion was but of a
short Continuance; for the Actors, jealous of
these new Brothers, and fearing they should
lose their Salaries if the Animal Creation got ‘the B4v 16
the better of the Rational one, in the Approbation
of the Town, set themselves about contriving
how they should supplant them, which
they effected by the following Method. They procured the Skins of several Sorts of
Creatures, such as Bears, Bulls, Babboons, Dogs,
and Dragons, and having transformed themselves
into the Shape, acted the Manners, of these
Animals so much to the Life, that they soon
found their Labour had not been in vain:――
Much greater Applause was given to them in
their Brute Characters than they ever had received
in those of Heroes and fine Gentlemen;
perhaps too with good Reason, but of that I
do not pretend to be positive. They still, however, at least at my leaving
them they did so, continue to act Pieces or Interludes,
which they divide into two Classes,
and call either the ‘Terrible’ or the ‘Merry’, meaning
I suppose what we do by Tragedy annd Comedy;
but I think that Distinction might very
well be laid aside in the Topsy Turvy Drama,
being equally preposterous, out of Nature, and
far from either Wit or Humour in the one, or
Truth, Justice, or Propriety in the other. This indeed must be acknowledged, that
their Drama is a true Picture of the Times,
and so far justifiable; but how degenerate,
how depraved must be the Taste of these ‘wretched C1r 17
wretched Islanders, to be pleased with seeing
themselves in such a Mirror. Military Discipline is much practised
among them:—Encampments and Reviews
are frequent, and they make as good a Shew
as any Nation in the World:—Better dress’d
Soldiers I never saw, but as to their Prowess I
dare not answer;――as far as I could learn, it
had not of many Years been put to any great
Tryals, for though there were five Declarations
of War against so many different Powers
during the Space of eight Months, they were
no sooner made than Overtures of Peace succeeded,
and all the mighty Preparations for
War ceased and gave way to Dancing, and
all kinds of Revels. This might be good Policy, did it serve
to render them formidable to their Neighbours;
—but, alas, all is no more than a Bounce;――
they menace loud――they bluster for a while,
then meanly sue, and often purchase a Peace
at a dear Rate. It is almost impossible to enumerate the many
Treaties, the Alliances, the Leagues Offensive
and Defensive, they entered into during
the three Years I was so unfortunate as to be
among them;—I say unfortunate, because,
though this Island abounds with every thing a
Man can with any Shadow of Reason desire, Vol. IV. C ‘yet C1v 18
yet are there such perpetual Alarms, that no
one, who wishes a settled State of Life, can be
easy under:—They are always threatning, yet
always in Apprehensions of something worse
happening to themselves than is in their Power
to inflict on others, and frequently reminded
me of that Passage in Holy Writ,
‘The Wicked shall fear, where no Fear is.’ But what is more amazing, if possible, than
all the rest is, that they are always under the
most Terrors where there is the least Probability
of Danger; guarding that Place in the
strongest Manner which is most distant from
the Enemy, and leaving that which is most
likely to be attack’d, wholly defenceless. To add to this, they are certainly the most
officious busy People in the World;—they cannot
be easy without having some Hand, or
being thought to have, in all the Transactions
of the neighbouring Nations:—At one Time
you would imagine they were endeavouring
to bring about an universal Place; at another
that they were stirring up all who listen
to them to War.—This meddling Humour frequently
embroils them in Quarrels with those it
is most their Interest to be well with, and also
involves them in Wars for the Concerns of
others, while their own are totally neglected. ‘But C2r 19 But as they are never long in the same
Mind, one Campaign is sufficient to make them
as sick of War as before it they were of Peace;
and indeed if any of their Inclinations may be
said to be guided by Reason, this is, because
their Arms are generally very unsuccessful.――
Experience, however, does not make them
wise enough to avoid engaging a-fresh, as soon
as any Opportunity presents itself; and they
would long ago have been all cut to Pieces,
and their Island reduced to an Heap of Ashes,
had they not bought off the impending Ruin
with those Treasures the Frugality of their industrious
Ancestors had left them; and which
at my coming away I found were pretty near
being wholly exhausted: So that perhaps while
I am writing this Account of their Conduct,
it may have brought that Destruction on them
with which they have long since been threatned,
and it must be confessed, they but too
justly merit. Yet notwithstanding this acting in the
general against all Rules of common Sense, I
found some few among them who had a greater
Share of Reason:—These saw the approaching
Miseries of their Country with streaming
Eyes, and Hearts overwhelmed with Anguish;
――they fail’d not to admonish, to reprove,
and to oppose with all their Might every destructive
Measure; but all they could do was
ineffectual:—Their Advice was only laugh’d
at, and their Persons treated with Contempt. C2 ‘As C2v 20 As these Men were the only conversable Set
of Mortals I found in the whole Island, I past
my Time chiefly with them, and by that
Means became acquainted with many Things
I could not otherwise have known. Speaking one Day of the strange Irregularity,
and capricious Contradictions in Conduct
practised by the Topsy-Turvyans, one of
those I just mentioned, pretended to account
for it by the following little Piece of History,
which, whether fabulous or true, may be an
Entertainment to the Reader. ‘Our Island’, said he, ‘was formerly governed
by Vice-Roys, who being vested with an
unlimited Authority by the Crown, we were
happy or miserable according to the Disposition
of this Delegate of Power:—All our Appeals
and Complaints to the Continent were disregarded,
so that we frequently suffered great
Impositions.――At last, being persecuted by
one, who excell’d in Cruelty and every kind
of Wickedness all his Predecessors, the People
united in a Combination against him;—his
Palace was plucked to the Ground, and himself
with all his Family destroyed:_—Others after
him, attempting the same Things, were treated
in the same Manner, so that for some Time
none dar’d to exceed the Bounds a good Magistrate
ought to observe; and we enjoyed a perfect
Freedom and Tranquility for many Years.
—O! had it but continued, how happy a Na‘tion C3r 21
had we been! But alas! the Golden Days
of the Topsy-Turvyans past away, and a sad
Change came on.――O! Æra fatal to our
Glory, Interest, Virtue, Liberty, all that is
worth a brave Man’s Care, when the detested
Hiamack was sent over to be our Vice-Roy:—
Ruin, Perdition, Horror, Madness, was then
let loose among us, and everlasting Shame with
every Curse that Thought can form is now entail’d
upon us.’ Here the good old Man was obliged to
pause, and give a loose to that Torrent of Tears
which this sad Remembrance extorted from
him; and I took the Opportunity of asking,
wherefore, if Hiamack behaved so ill, the People
did not, as before, exert themselves to the
Ruin of their Oppressor? To which Question,
as soon as he had a little recovered himself, he
replied. ‘Madack,’ said he, (which is the Appellation
they give to all Strangers for whom they have
any Esteem, and come the nearest to ‘my
Lord’ in English of any Title I know of,) ‘Hiamack
was too subtle to discover himself;――he
appeared at his first coming among us to be
all Courtesy and Gentleness; and as he was
the greatest Magician perhaps that the World
ever knew, he made Use of his diabolical Art
to betray us into what he easily foresaw we
were not to be forced.’ ‘Under C3v 22 ‘Under the Pretence of his great Love and
Respect for the People, he ordered Banquets
to be prepared one Day in a great Plain,
to which he invited all Degrees, not excepting
the very meanest of the Rabble:—This seeming
Hospitality and Humility charm’d the whole
Island;—all crowded to partake of it, and to
bless the new Vice-Roy.――Thousands were
served at once, and they withdrawn, fresh
thousands came, till all had swallowed down
the worse than poison’d Viands:—All but a few
who being either out of the Island at that
Time, or were detained by Sickness or other
Causes from this Feast, among which happy
Number were my Ancestors and some
others.’ ‘For, O my dear Madack,’ pursued he, ‘the
curst Magician, by some infernal Recipe, had
given to this Food an infatuating Quality of
so dire and mischievous a Nature, that not
only those who eat of it, but all the Posterity
which should descend from their Loins, from
Generation to Generation, and from Age to
Age, should be deprived of all Power of judging
for themselves; of distinguishing between
what is their Interest, and what is not; and in
fine, from that Time forward become dead to
all Sense of what they were, or what they
ought to be.’ It is impossible to express the Agony this
poor honest Topsy-Turvyan fell into, in concludingcluding C4r 23
his Narrative; which, but for the Pity
I could not help feeling for him, would have
made me laugh heartily.—I could never have
expected such a Reason for the Vices, Caprices,
and Follies I had seen among these People,
and to hear it accounted for in the Manner
I now did, appear’d to me little less ridiculous
than the Behaviour he ascribed to so
out-of-the-way a Cause. I believe he perceived by my Countenance
what my Thoughts were on this Occasion, and
therefore added many Observations to assert
the Truth of what he had been saying.――All
the others also of the ancient Topsy-Turvyans,
as they called themselves, aver’d the same, and
I found it a Tradition, which was the more
established, as it seemed impossible a whole
People should degenerate and become so directly
the opposite of what they had been, if
some supernatural Agency had not been employ’d
to work the Change. That there are Drugs, which, without the
Help of Magic, will work upon the Brain, and
so stupify the Senses, that they have no Power
to operate; there was an Instance not many
Years past in England, of a Nobleman who
had a Potion given him by his Lady, which
render’d him for many Years incapable of
transacting any kind of Business, and it is
thought the Ideotism would have lasted as long ‘as C4v 24
as Life, had not Providence in a Manner almost
miraculously restored him to his Reason. ’Tis probable, therefore, that this Hiamack
might know the Nature of so pernicious
a Recipe, and apply it to the unfortunate Topsy-Turvyans;
but then I cannot think the Infatuation
could be of such Force as to reach
the Intellects of those who should be begot
afterwards; I rather think, as it had an Effect
to corrupt the Manners of the Fathers, the
Sons as they grew followed that Example;
their Posterity still did the same, and by this
Means the Curse which they imagined entail’d
by Necromancy, became confin’d from Generation
to Generation. But to relate Matters, not refine upon them,
is I take it the only Business of an Historian,
so I shall leave it to the Reader to judge as he
thinks most reasonable of the Cause of this
Degeneracy of a once brave and nice People. As to the Navigation of the Topsy-Turvyans,
it is no less comical than the rest, though
they boast much of it:――They have indeed a
great Number of Vessels, which are perpetually
swimming up and down in the Pacific
Ocean as the Tide directs, for they have neither
Sails nor Ballast:――It is utterly impossible
to give any Description of them that would be
intelligible to an European Reader, being built
after a Form which there is nothing like in the whole D1r 25
whole World:—It must be owned there is
somewhat of Majesty and Dread in their Appearance;
—they are large and very high,
and ornamented on the Top with a prodigious
Number of Streamers, red, yellow, blue, and
white, which are fixed on Poles on above another,
and fall down, like Curls of a Perriwig,
to the Surface of the Vessel, the Sides of
which are full of long Iron Spikes, a little like
Javelins, the Points directed outwards:――
These are the Weapons by which, in Fight,
they think to annoy their Enemies; but I
never saw them tried that Way, and fancy they
would be able to do little Execution. As they know nothing of the Compass, and
never travel out of their own Sphere, when
they would have these Vessels move to any
particular Part, they guide them with a Sort of
Paddles, thirty, forty, or sometimes fifty Topsy
Turvyans on a Side in one Bottom. It is thus that they convey themselves to the
Continent, whenever they have any Business to
go there, either to carry the Produce of their
own Island, or fetch what foreign Commodities
they may have occasion for. When they are not employed in these more
necessary Avocations, they often form a kind
of a Figure, dance on the Waters, making
first a Circle, then passing between each other,
which they do with incredible Swiftness, by the Vol. IV. D ‘Help D1v 26
Help of their Paddles, the Vessels being extremely
light, and that Sea never disturbed
either with Storms from Above, or any interior
Emotion of its own.”

This is all Eumenes has thought to give us
of that remote Country, and, it must be acknowledged,
is sufficient to satisfy the Curiosity of any
one who is not desirous of taking a Voyage
thither; as I believe few will, who have this
Idea of their Manners and Customs.

There are some Things so infinitely diverting
in the Description, that we found it utterly
impossible to forbear laughing, though at the
same time were filled with the greatest Compassion
for a People so lost and so undone by their
own Indolence and Luxury; for I am altogether
of the same Mind with the Writer of the
Account, that it scarcely happened by any supernatural
Means.

When a Nation devotes itself to such Studies
and Amusements as can no way contribute to the
Glory or Interest of their Country, or to their
own particular Reputation, they will infallibly
become by degrees divested of all Sense of Virtue,
and, like the Topsy Turvyans, grow the
Slaves of Vice and Folly.

I believe the World could never yet produce
one Instance where true Spirit subsisted
after Honour was no more:—The one, indeed, is D2r 27
is the natural Consequence of the other; for a
brave and honest Mind will be ever firm, constant,
and unshaken; it will dare all the Menaces
of unwarrantable Power, and despise all
undermining Artifices;—equally Proof against
Force or Flattery: But, when once Vice gets
Possession of the Soul, it becomes mean and abject;
it has no longer any Will, any Inclination
of its own; the ready Tool of every soothing
Offer, and lowly submissive to every Command
that shall be given.

It behoves, therefore, every Individual of
every Country in the World, whatever may be
told them, or how much seeming Cause soever
they may have to flatter themselves with an Assurance
of Freedom, not to neglect searching,
with the most enquiring and impartial Eye, into
all that passes; to examine into the most hidden
Motives; and, disdaining to be guided by Appearances
and fair Pretences, judge for themselves,
and boldly declare their Approbation or
Disapprobation of what is doing.

This alone is true Liberty; for where Freedom
of judging or speaking is a Crime, all
other Indulgencies are but so many downy Linings,
which at first may make the Yoke of Slavery
seem soft and easy to be borne, which will
wear away, when worn for any Length of Time,
and then the rugged galling Load be felt with
double Weight.

I D2v 28

I do not at all wonder that a People, who
have no Ideas of the Christian Religion, or
indeed of any other that is consistent with Reason,
and are equally Strangers to every thing
civilized and polite, should be so ready to ascribe
all extraordinary Revolutions to Art Magic; since,
even here in England, it was common, a very few
Years since, to imagine Storms, Shipwrecks, and
almost all Manner of ill Accidents, were occasioned
by the Force of wicked Spells: And the
old Romans, who valued themselves so much on
their Understanding, as to look on all other Nations
as barbarous and savage, were so addicted
to this Opinion, that they imputed every thing
that befel from the greatest, down to the most
minute Events, to the Power of Charms. As
witness Virgil: “Pale Phœbe, drawn by Spells from Heav’n descends,
And Circe chang’d by Charms Ulysses’ Friends, Spells break the Ground and penetrate the Brake, And in the winding Cavern splits the Snake; Spells fire the frozen Veins.――”
And again, “By his dread Art the Negromancer boasts, To call from forth their Caverns stalking
Ghosts, And from the Roots to tear the standing Corn, Which whirl’d aloft to distant Fields is born, Such is the Strength of Spells.――”

Our own Poets also, it is plain, have upheld
the same Tenet: Shakespear in all his Plays is full D3r 29
full of it, not even this Historical ones exempt.
The great Revolution in Scotland he ascribes to
the Promise made by the Witches to Macbeth;
and likewise brings that great, though wicked
Man to shew an entire Dependance on them,
and to consult them in every thing, as we see by
his earnest adjuring them to speak to him. “If you can look into the Seeds of Time, And see which Grain will grow, and which will
not, I conjure you, by that which you profess, To answer me. Tho’ you untie the Winds, and let them fight Against the Churches; though the yesty Waves Confound and swallow Navigation up; Tho’ Castles topple on their Warder’s Heads; Tho’ Palaces and Pyramids do slope Their Heads to their Foundations, Even till Destructions sicken; answer me.”

Dryden too, of much later Ages, was no
less possessed of these Ideas, and in a great many
of his Dramatic Pieces, as well as other Writings,
shews himself very fond of giving Abundance
of Power to Witches and Sorcerers. See
what he says in his Tragedy of Tyranic Love. “Him have I seen (on Ister’s Banks he stood, Where last we wintered) bind the Headlong
Flood In sudden Ice, and where most swift it flows, In Chrystal Nets, the wond’ring Fishes close; Then, D3v 30 Then, with a Moment’s Thaw the Streams enlarge,
And from the Masks the twinkling Guests discharge.
In a deep Vale, or near some ruin’d Wall, He would the Ghosts of slaughter’d Soldiers
call; Who slow, to mangled Bodies did repair, And loth to enter shiver’d in the Air; These his dread Wand did to short Life compel, And forc’d the Fate of Battles to foretel. In a lone Tent, all hung with Black, I saw Where in a Square he did a Circle draw: Four Angles made by that Circumference, Bore holy Words inscrib’d of mystic Sense: When first a hollow Wind began to blow, The Sky grew black, and belly’d down more low. Around the Field did nimble Light’nings play, Which offer’d us by Fits, then snatch’d the Day. ’Midst this was heard the shrill and tender Cry Of well-pleas’d Ghosts, that in the Storm did
fly; Danc’d to and fro, and skim’d along the Ground, Till to the Magic Circle they were bound.”

In fine, the Poets of all Ages, but the present,
by their Writings have greatly contributed to
the Continuance of that Superstition, which
Priests in the more dark and uninformed Times
for their own Interest began.

These Kingdoms are, however, now entirely
freed from their former Errors on this Side; the Ex- D4r 31
Example of the great World have put a Stop to
all such Follies in their Inferiors, which testifies
the Influence they have. If they do not therefore
endeavour to give as great a Check to Propensities
of a yet more dangerous Nature, the
Faults of all those beneath them, may, but with
too much Justice, be laid to their Charge.

Let then those of both Sexes, who shine in
the higher Sphere of Life, become Models of
Virtue to the rest; and I dare answer, that in
this imitating Age there will be few fond enough
of Vice to be out of the Fashion.

For, in fine, as I have already taken Notice, it
is being wicked that renders us weak, and liable
to fall into any Infatuation whatever; and when
once perverted in our Principles and Understanding,
what but Ruin must ensue!

But I fear growing too grave for the Generality
of my Readers, and shall therefore close
this Subject with the Words of the Poet. “Quem vult Deus perdere prius diementat.”

We must not, however, forget to render
Eumenes our most grateful Acknowledgments
for the Favour he has conferred upon us; nor to
assure him, that some Time before the Conclusion
of these Lucubrations, we shall comply with
what he seems to expect from us, as far as is in the
Power of our Capacities; nothing being more dear D4v 32
dear to us than the Honour and Interest of the
City of London, and nothing consequently more
afflicting to us, than when we find Reason to believe
any Numbers of it act in a Manner different
from what might be expected from them.

But I doubt not by this Time the Town is
sufficiently impatient for what our learned Correspondent
Philo Naturæ has thought fit to convey
to them by the Female Spectator; and it
would be the utmost Injustice to delay the Satisfaction
of a Curiosity so truly laudable, for any
thing we might have to offer of our own.

Without then any farther Prelude, we shall
give his Sentiments in the exact Words we received
them.

“To the Female Spectator. Madam, The obliging Care you were so good to
take, in so early inserting the former
Epistle, I did myself the Honour to send you,
makes me vain enough to imagine a second
will find a no less favourable Reception. According to my Promise, therefore, I
now venture to renew the Subject I before recommended,
as the most pleasing as well as
useful Amusement the Mind can be employed
in; and which will always afford Matter to
speak, to think, and write upon; since in all ‘Seasons E1r 33
Seasons of the Year, and in all Places whether
Abroad or at Home, we shall always find
something new if we attend to it, which will
consequently furnish us with new Ideas. The Earth, the Air, the Water, and even
the common Fire we burn upon our Hearths,
will, in a thinking Mind, produce abundant
Theme for Speculation. I know not, Madam, if it were in your
Time or not, but I remember, when I was a
a Boy, the good Ladies were accustomed about
this Season of the Year, to be extremely busy
in drying and preserving certain Herbs and
Fruits, and distilling others, according to the
Nature of the Plants, and the Uses they were
intended for, which I found every Woman of
Condition then plumed herself very much on
a perfect Understanding in. Wonderful Cures have I seen performed
by the Help of Simples prepared in a proper
Manner by these good Housewifes; and many
an elegant Desert served up in the midst of
Winter, without the Help of a Confectioner:
But such Avocations in these politer Days, are
beneath the Attention of a fine Lady, and Heaven
forbid that, old as I am, I should render
myself so obnoxious to the most charming Part
of the Creation, as to advise them to return to
that old-fashioned Way of spending Time. Vol. IV. E But E1v 34 But, methinks, it should not be disagreeable
to them to enquire a little into the Nature
of those Herbs, which are commonly
made Use of either in Food or Medicine.—
The cooling Plantaine, the cardiac Angelica,
the restoring Comfrey, the purifying Cresses
and Tresoil, and the Health-giving Sage, merit
some Care to be taken of them, much more
than any foreign Drugs whatever, which only
serve to swell the Apothecary’s Bill: For the
Reputation of the true Physician is owing
merely to Simples, which are at last called in
to rectify the Disorders which more expensive
Prescriptions perhaps may have occasioned. I would not by this be understood to perswade
the Ladies to turn Physicians; they
may amuse themselves with considering the
Nature and Use of those Plants, which grow
every Day before their Eyes the whole Year
round, without entering into any laborious Study
about them. By observing the Product of the Earth, one
may see, that God has made nothing in vain;
for even those very Weeds which we imagine
shoot up spontaneously, and whose Uses either
in Food or Physic, if they really are indued
with any, are not yet discovered by us, serve,
however, for Nourishment and Shelter to many
Animals, to whom the human System is
very much indebted. They afford also a pleasing
Variety to the Eye, as they grow up and ‘mingle E2r 35
mingle with the more valuable Plants, and
sometimes extract Juices from the Earth, which
would be prejudicial to those Things the Gardener
makes it most his Care to cultivate. And now I have touched upon this Head,
I cannot leave it without taking some Notice
of a Weed which grows in such Plenty, and
scatters Seed in such abundance, that there is
hardly a Possibility of eradicating it totally
from any Ground it once has taken Possession
of. Yet does not Nature, among all that Profusion
of Blessings she bestows, present us with
any one Simple of such universal Benefit in medicinal
Prescriptions, since there is scarce any
Disease in which it does not help, and is in most
a Specific. Nobody, who has the least Understanding
in Physic, but will know I mean the Nettle:
Since there are many excellent Herbs whose Virtues
must be allowed for the Cure of particular
Disorders; yet it is generally the Case, that
what relieves in one, shall be prejudicial to another.
Whereas the Nettle, if taken in Time,
prevents those Ailments to which the human
System is most incident, and even after a too
long Neglect of it, gives a certain Ease in what
it is intended, without the least ill Consequence
to any other Complaint with which
the Patient may happen to be afflicted. E2 ‘ E2v 36 Of this Plant, for I cannot bring myself to
affront it so far as to call it a Weed, there are two
known Sorts, the one has the Name of Dead
Nettle or Archangel, the other is the Stinging
Nettle, to which latter the Preference undoubtedly
is due, as of more general Service, tho’
the other is a sovereign Remedy in many Cases. I have often thought the Qualities of the
Stinging Nettle might be justly enough compared
to those of good Advice proceeding from
an honest Heart, but delivered in Terms
which, at first, seem to have too much Asperity
in them, and at first is not well relished,
but when reflected on maturely, the Merits of
it will have their due Weight, and excite Gratitude
and Love. A little Time, therefore, given to Consideration
of these, which are by a vulgar Eye
looked upon as the most insignificant Works
of Nature, could not fail leading us to Contemplations
of a more elevated Kind, and be
one great Step towards rendering our Ideas
sublime, refined, and pure, and fit to travel
through the immense Wonders of those starry
Heavens, which we behold with so much Admiration.
I cannot, Madam, but greatly lament that
Interruption which deprived you and your fair
Friends of a farther Prosecution of those Enquiries
you were about to make of the Planetary‘tary 37 E3r
Worlds.—There, is indeed a Theme for
the noblest Speculations.――There, may the
most extensive Genius be absorbed and swallowed
up in a seraphic Contemplation.—How
must the Soul be dissolved in humble Gratitude,
and in Astonishment at the Power and
Wisdom of that Almighty and Incomprehensible
Being, who not only formed those glorious
Orbs, but preserves them in such an exact
Order, that none of them shall transgress their
Limits, or become prejudicial to the others. I must confess myself to be intirely of that
Gentleman’s Opinion, who supposes all the
Planets to be so many habitable Worlds; and
that short, but plain Reason he gives of it, of
their being all illumined may, I think, convince
any one who is not resolved to adhere to
no Tenets but his own. Had you past more Time, than I perceive
you did, or at least renewed your Visit to the
Telescope, when Saturn could be seen with the
greatest Advantage, you would plainly have
discovered that Ring or Circle with which he
is encompassed, to be of a much greater Brightness
than the Moon at Full appears to us, near
as she is to the Earth. But I cannot help dissenting from your ingenious
Friend in one Particular, which is, that
the Distance of this Planet would involve it
in a most horrible Darkness for near half the ‘Year; E3v 38
Year; and this Reason I give for contradicting
what I know very well is not only his
own, but also a received Opinion with most
People. The farther this vast Planet is removed
from our Sun, the nearer by Consequence he
must be placed to some other; for I think it
has been agreed on by the most judicious Enquirers
into the Heavens, that the fixed Stars,
as we call them, are in reality so many Suns,
which give Light to Planets of their own, and
to whom that of ours appears as they do to
us, no more than a fixed Star, whose Twinkle
is scarce perceivable. Saturn, therefore, having this Advantage
above all other Planets of our System,
instead of being that dark, gloomy World we
have all along believed him, must be the most
enlightened of any.—Since one half of the
Year he has our Sun, as all the Rules of Astronomy
confess, and the other half is played
upon by another Sun, which to us is scarce
perceptible;――this, together with his own
gorgeous Circle of Moons, must give him in
a manner perpetual Day. This Opinion of Plurality of Worlds seems
to me so far from being inconsistent with the
Principles of Religion, that it very much enlarges
our Ideas of the Almighty Wisdom;
and I cannot think but the Philosophers of ‘former E4r 39
former Ages, who imagined the Creation terminated
with what they were able to discern,
had very confined Notions of the great Author
of Nature, and also an adequate Share of Vanity
to flatter themselves, that all those great
Orbs, which roll above our Heads, were made
only to delight the Eye of Man. But every Age producing new Discoveries
by the continual Improvement of that
most useful Invention the Telescope, have made
these later Times more wise; I mean those of
us who do not wilfully shut our Eyes to keep
the Truth from gaining Entrance, and are afraid
of being convinced. Among the Number of these, I once was
acquainted with an Ecclesiastic, a very good
Man, but of a moderate Understanding: Talking
one Day upon this Topic, he said, that
to maintain there were any more Worlds than
this we live in, was prophane and irreligious,
and directly opposite to the Christian Faith;
‘for’, cried he, ‘if Christ died for us alone, what
must become of all the Souls in those other
Worlds you talk of?’ To which I answered, though not without
a Smile, which I found myself unable to
restrain, and made, I could perceive, the good
Clergyman entertain yet a worse Opinion of
my Piety than he had before, that it was possible
those Worlds might not have had Adams, ‘who E4v 40
who had sinned like our Forefather, and consequently
could not stand in need of the same
extraordinary Manner of Redemption. This put him out of all Patience, and his
Zeal carried him such Lengths in the Arguments
he made Use of, as nothing but a perfect
Acquaintance with the Integrity of his
Heart, could have made me pardon, or indeed
have borne with any Temper. It is very strange, methinks, that People
should be so fond of lugging Religion into
Disputes where it has no Kind of Concern.—
Whether these Worlds have any Occasion for
a Saviour, or by what sort of Creatures they
are inhabited, is not the Question;—the Matter
is, that it is reasonable to suppose, that they
are inhabited by some Sort or other, either of
a superior or inferior Nature to us, and also
that every one of them is different from the
other. Nature delights in Variety; every Element
abounds with Species of a different Kind.
A thousand, and ten thousand Sorts of Birds
wing the Regions of the Air.――The Waters
produce as great a Number of different Kinds
of finny Inhabitants.—The Earth of Reptiles,
Insects, and Beasts; and even Men, when born
in different Climates, differ in Colour, Shape,
and Manners from each other, almost as much
as from the Brutes. ‘Ridiculous, F1r 41 Ridiculous, therefore, would it be for us
to imagine, the People of these foreign Worlds
are like any thing we have ever seen, or can
possibly have any Notion of:――God is
infinite in all, and we may plainly see that no
two of his Works have a perfect Resemblance
with each other. To be too inquisitive, however, into Things
in which we have no Concern, and which,
with the utmost Labour, assisted by the greatest
Learning and strongest Capacity, we can never
be able to penetrate, is doubtless both a Sin
and a Folly:――Heaven has given us sufficient
Matter for Contemplation in the World
we live in, and we ought not to pry into the
Secrets of those hid from us; but still the Opposers
of the Belief of a Plurality of Worlds
are not to infer from thence that we should refuse
giving Credit to so reasonable a Tenet:—
We may sure allow that there are such Worlds,
without wasting our Time in vain Conjectures
by whom peopled, or what Employments are
in Fashion there. Should any one be presuming enough to
pretend, that all the Wonders of the Universe
had been shewn to him by Revelation, the Imposition
would immediately discover itself to
be such, since no Human Invention, how prolific
soever, would be able to form any Ideas,
much less to bring them into Description, of
the thousandth or ten thousandth Part of that Vol. IV. F ‘immense F1v 42
immense Number of Worlds, whose Suns even
we discover the Glimmers of through our Tellescopes:
――What then lie farther buried in
the Bosom of Infinity!—Incomprehensible!
—Unfathomable, as the Almighty Former! We are, therefore, in no Danger of having
our Understanding beguiled by any pretended
Prophet on that Score; and to go about to deceive
ourselves, by the Formation of imaginary
Systems, would be an Infatuation, even
greater than any the present Age is guilty of. But the Goodness of Heaven has put
enough within our Reach to compensate for
the Want of what is beyond it; and if we
neglect, and think beneath our Notice those
Things God has given us a Capacity to comprehend,
it is a Fault, I think, equal to that of
endeavouring to explore what he has thought
fit to conceal from us. ‘Take Care’, says the Marquis de St. Clou,
in one of his Epistles to his Son, ‘that you do
not lose the present Opportunities allowed you
for Knowledge, in idly waiting for those which
may never happen to be presented to you.’ You, Madam, and those Ladies who are
your Associates, are highly to be commended,
that in a Season which presented you no more
agreeable Objects to employ your Speculations,
you chose, rather than be inactive, to observe ‘the F2r 43
the Progress of the Growth of Snails, which,
indeed, to a great many in the World, who
fancy themselves very discerning too, appears
too contemptible to merit any Portion of Regard.
Methinks, I see you busying your fair
Fingers in sorting and sprinkling fine Clods of
Earth, that your Nursery might be protected
by them from the too severe Approaches of
the Air:――I hear the Charge you give, that
no one might disturb the Bed you had so carefully
prepared for them:—With Pleasure I
conceive the Assiduity with which you ran
every Morning to examine if your Commands
had been punctually obeyed, and how the little
Animals throve under your Direction.—
Let our polite Ladies and Gentlemen laugh at
this Amusement, I admire it, and wish it may
find many Imitators. I am also of your Opinion, that a Snail, if
strictly examined, is not without its Beauties,
especially that Sort of them which feed chiefly
on Flowers; nothing being more certain,
than that they owe great Part of their Tincture
from the Colour of what they eat; as we
may see by those who live in Cellars, and on
old Walls, which have a dirty muddy Hue,
conformable to the Places they inhabit, and
from which they draw their Sustenance. But I cannot pass over this Subject withoutF2 ‘out F2v 44
acquainting you with an Experiment made
by a certain Virtuoso, a Friend of mine, on
one of these Creatures:—Having observed
that their Colour was in a great measure owing
to their Food, he put one of them in a Box,
and took Care to supply it every Day with fresh
Flowers, of the most beautiful Kind the Garden
would produce; but keeping it in a Room,
where it had not the Benefit of the open Air,
the Animal improved but little in its Beauty:
He was at length sensible of the Deficiency,
and carried it Abroad when the Sun shone out
in the greatest Brightness, and let it glide at
Pleasure, over the Greens, the Fruits, and
Flowers, still following and keeping it in his
Eye:――This Pains did he take for several
Weeks together, and had the Satisfaction to
observe his Labour was not wholly lost:――
The Creature did really grow more clear and
transparent, and also seemed stronger, and more
lively, if the Motion of a Snail can properly
be called so. It came also into his Head to make a second
Experiment, which was this:—He had
observed, that several Snails had a kind of
Swellings or Inequality in their Shells, and
some had them cased in many Places like
other little Shells growing out of the former:
He took one of these, and making a small
Puncture in it, without hurting the Body of
the Snail, he presently found a Froth rise from
it, which in a small Time became a Consistence, and F3r 45
and hardened so as to seem of a Piece with
the main Shell:――He then broke off some
Part of the Contour, by which the Animal
appeared as it were half naked, but Nature
had provided her with a Store within herself
to repair her Mansion, and the same viscous
Juice, which he had seen fill up the Puncture,
now rose and transpired from every Pore,
which thickening by degrees, became like the
rest of the Shell, and rendered it as large and
as circular as before:—He perceived also a little
Ridge between the new and old Parts, exactly
resembling such as were in that Part
which had not been broke; from whence he
concluded, that the Shell was not entirely
formed at first, or had any thing in itself which
could increase its Dimensions; but that the
Power was wholly lodged in the Body of the
Snail, which, as it increased in Strength and
Bulk, threw out that Fluid which formed so
many different Contours as there were Ridges;
and that this also was the Cause of that Variety
of Colours which we often see in the
same Shell, but always ranged between these
Ridges, or Piecings, as one may call them, the
one never interfering with the other. But you will, perhaps, say, that the Gentleman
tle I have been speaking of, as well as
myself who relate these Experiments, might
both of us have employed our Time better:
If you do, Madam, I shall readily agree to your
Opinion, because we ought not to be so assiduousduous F3v 46
in gratifying a meer Curiosity, as to
neglect those Researches which might be of
real Utility. These Things, indeed, are Amusements
perfectly innocent, and if of no great Service
to the World, or to ourselves, are far from
being any Prejudice to either:—It were to be
wished that others of a more dangerous Nature
were exchanged for them. As I have already taken Notice, a Mind
eager to enquire into the minutest Works of
Nature, will be insensibly led to a Contemplation
on the greatest; and in all we shall
find sufficient for our Astonishment, and the
exciting in us such Ideas of the great Author
of Nature, as cannot fail to fill us with the
highest Sense of the Infinity of his Goodness
to all his Creatures, and to us in particular, to
whom alone, of all sublunary Beings, he has
given the Power of Reason and Reflection. The meanest Creature, therefore, that the
Air, the Earth, or Sea, or any Part of this
great World affords, is not beneath our Consideration.
We can no where cast our Eyes without
beholding something to admire; and tho’
to dwell too long on any one would be an Injury
to the rest, yet none should be passed by
without some Portion of our Notice. What I mean is, that I would have every ‘Gentleman F4r 47
Gentleman and Lady, who have Leisure to
gratify their Curiosity, and at the same time
improve their Understanding, to take, as it
were, a superficial View of the whole Creation,
as far as lies in their Power, or they have Opportunities
for; and though they are not enabled
to give a particular Account of the Structure
of any one Part, they will, notwithstanding,
have very just Notions of the whole; and
also be convinced, by the little they can
make familiar to their Observation, what Wonders
lie beyond the reach of it. The vast, the indeed infinite Variety which
a Study of this kind presents us with, should,
methinks, stand in need of no other Recommendation:
com—How do we run madding
after Novelties, which are so far from giving
us either Profit or Improvement, that they
ruin our Fortunes, and corrupt our Morals and
Understanding, while Natural Philosophy,
every Day, every Season, and in every Place,
affords us fresh Subjects to entertain and to
instruct. All Capacities, all Degrees, all Ages may in
proportion be delighted, and made better by it. It is as Massenger, a very good Poet of his
Time, elegantly expresses it. ‘An universal Good, To Princes dearer than the Crowns they wear, Yet to the meanest Peasant not deny’d. ‘Nature, F4v 48 Nature, impartial, opens all her Stores To all alike;—who not partakes the Blessing Robs his own Soul.――’ But I am in very great Hopes, that as the
Female Spectator has led the Way, a great
many, not only of her own, but our Sex likewise,
will follow her in these so beneficial Enquiries.
I was about to conclude this tedious Epistle,
but cannot do it till I have added a Word or
two concerning Caterpillars:――I fancy, Madam,
among the various Sorts you mentioned,
you never happened to take Notice of one,
pretty remarkable in its Kind, and is, in my
Opinion, the most perfect Emblem of gaudy
Slavery the whole Brute Creation presents us
with. The Caterpillar I mean, Madam, is of a
dark Olive Colour, has two golden Lists
down its Back, and is in many Places sprinkled
with little Specks of the same gorgeous Hue:
――It would, indeed, be by much the most
beautiful of the whole Species (not excepting
those you mention with the Amber Heads)
were it not, that on its Neck Nature has placed
a high Ridge exactly resembling a Yoke:――
Of what Service this is to the Insect I never
could find out, nor could my speculative
Friend inform me; but to those who look upon
it, it appears a heavy Burthen, which impedes ‘their G1r 49
their Motion, and often stops them when in
Pursuit of any Advantage, so that it answers
the Comparison I just now thought on, of a
People gay, glittering in all the outward Shew
of Magnificence, but, in effect, Slaves, and
Beasts tramelled with a Load, which all the
World besides themselves behold with Pity
and Contempt. The next Excursion you make into the
Country, I beg you will bestow a little Examination
into these Insects: To a Lady of
your way of Thinking I imagine it will afford
Matter for Reflections that may be useful to
the Public, to see how these poor Creatures,
after toiling and labouring to reach some favourite
Bough, are obstructed by what they
carry on their own Necks, and liable to be
thrown down by every little Twig that hangs
cowring from above. As all the Decrees of Providence are wise
and good, in relation even to the meanest
Animal, we must suppose that these have not
a Sense of the Miseries entailed upon them,
otherwise it would seem as they were created
only to be wretched. What a Degree of Instinct they have is
not, however, in our Power to comprehend;
but as they are ordained by Nature to wear this
Mark of Servitude, and never knew a State of
Liberty, nor did, by any Inadvertency or Folly Vol. IV. G ‘of G1v 50
of their own, consent to put it on, it is not to be
doubted but that they are entirely easy under it. But I shall leave this Point to be discussed
by the Female Spectator, when she has given
herself the Trouble to consider it, and am,
with the greatest good Wishes for the Success
of your Endeavours, Madam,
Your most humble Servant,
and Admirer, Philo-Naturæ. Inner-Temple,
1745-09-15Sept. 15. P. S. I remember, Madam, your Seventeenth
Book gave us some Expectation of a
Letter from that worthy Gentleman, from
whose Turret you had the Pleasure of beholding
the Planetary Regions: Not only myself,
but a great many of your Readers to my Knowledge,
are impatient for it, and I doubt not,
but according to your Promise, you will favour
us with it, as soon as it comes to Hand.”

Though the ingenious Author of this Letter
can write nothing amiss, and every thing he
has said demands the most grateful Acknowledgments,
yet our Society are, above all, charmed
with the convincing Defence he has made of an
Opinion some Zealots and Enthusiasts so much
cry down, and endeavour to explode as unchristianstian G2r 51
and fabulous: I mean that of Plurality of
Worlds, which I never yet could hear any one
good Reason to condemn.

To make it, indeed, one of the Articles of
our Faith would be a Fault, because we have no
Assurance given us of it, either in sacred Writ,
or by Tradition; but in a Matter of meer Indifference
to Salvation, I think our Understanding
may have Liberty to direct our Judgment, without
any Danger of becoming too presuming.

It is sufficient certainly to content the Pride
of Man, that all Things in this World were
created for his Use; and it seems to be the extremest
Arrogance, as well as Vanity, to imagine,
that so many Orbs, vastly larger than this
we inhabit, should be formed only to delight the
Wantonness of Sight, in looking at them in a
clear Starry Night, and are in reality of no other
Benefit to us.

But supposing it were even so, and that the
Almighty Former of the wide Universe should
have really ordained all that the Eye can reach
entirely for our Pleasure, the Inventions of Art
have presented us with Objects which Nature
had concealed:—We see, by the Help of Glasses,
a Multitude of Massy Globes of Light, which,
by their Remoteness, are not discernable by the
naked Eye, and could not, consequently, be intended
for our Speculation:—These then were
not created either to light, to warm, or to chear G2 us G2v 52
us with their Lustre, since they are not to be
felt or seen by us without the Pains of examining
them through Tellescopes, and then so faintly
as to be but just distinguishable.

All that can justly be objected against any
Arguments made Use of to prove the Reasonableness
of the Belief of a Plurality of Worlds,
is, that to us who live in this, it is of no Manner
of Concern, since there is not a Possibility of
our travelling to them, or of ever becoming acquainted
with the Inhabitants.

I have, indeed, heard some People foolish
enough to maintain, that there will come a Time,
in which the Ingenuity of Man shall invent
Machines to carry him through the Air with the
same Ease as we now pass the Seas; which, they
cry, seemed doubtless as impracticable at first as
this does at present.

But those who talked in this Manner affect
to forget who was the first Navigator:――That
God himself directed Noah how to build the
Ark, which was to save the Remnant of the Creation,
and also how to steer it, so as not to be
swallowed up by those Waters which laid waste
every thing beside:――It cannot, nor ought not
be denied, that the same Almighty Power could
not, if he pleased, instruct us in the Art of flying
through the Air, by some Vehicle proper for our
Conveyance; but then we are to consider, that
he never works by supernatural Means, but when G3r 53
when some extraordinary Exigence requires it, and
without some Cause therefore, at least adequate
to that of the Deluge, we are not to expect such
Miracles.

Could the Regions of Air, indeed, afford any
Shelter from that all-devouring Fire which, we
are told, shall consume the Earth, there might
be some little Shadow of a Hope, that the Race
of Man might be preserved a second Time by
Means no less surprizing than the first: But of
what Advantage would it be for us to fly, even
though we had the Wings of an Eagle, or could
soar with the King of Birds, at a Time, when
the Heavens themselves, at least what we call so,
shall be shrivelled up like a Parchment, when
the Sun, and Moon, and Stars shall be dissolved,
and all become one general Conflagration!

But granting even all their wild Imaginations
can suggest:――Supposing that some Carriage
could really be found out to bear us through the
Air from Kingdom to Kingdom, or to whatever
Place we pleased of the Globe, we still should be
able to discover as little of any other World as
we do now standing upon the Earth.

Every Orb has its own impenetrable Atmosphere;
—a Boundary which nothing that is mortal
can overleap or pass through; and whether,
even when we have thrown off this Clog of Flesh,
the Soul will receive any Gratification of its enquiringquiring G3v 54
Nature in this Point, lies only in the
Power of him who gave it to determine.

Here Reason is of no farther Use, it is
wholly lost in the Abyss of Eternity, as the Poet
truly says, “Can Finite measure what is infinite? Reason, alas! is blind even to itself: Yet Man, vain Man, would with this shortlin’d
Plummet, Fathom the vast Abyss of Heav’nly Wisdom.”

Pleased as I am, therefore, in the Contemplation
of innumerable Worlds, all created by
one omnipotent omnipresent Power, and consistent
with those Notions we have, or ought to have
of the Deity, as I think the Belief of them to
be, I dare not presume to put it in my Creed:
Whether there are, or are not any other habitable
Spheres is, I confess, not material; nor
do I entertain the less Regard for those who may
happen to differ from me in this Opinion: I only
say, that to indulge it, gives an innate Satisfaction;
and, I think, enlarges those Ideas it becomes
every one to encourage.

I shall, however, urge the Topic no farther,
but as to an Examination into the Nature of
those Things which are in the Compass of our
Comprehension, and of which we daily receive
the Benefit, I think no one can be excused who
neglects an Opportunity of making it.

This G4r 55

This is, in effect, the most useful Branch of
that Study which the worthy Philo-Naturæ,
both in his former Letter, as well as this, so strenuously
recommends to all Degrees of People
in Proportion to their Circumstances and Avocations;
for it is not to be supposed that either
he, or any who wishes the Good of Mankind,
would advise a Person to pass that Time in inspecting
the Root of a Vegetable, or the Organs
of an Insect, which should be employed in getting
Bread for his Family.

Such Speculations, it is certain, best befit
those of the great World, or at least such as
have Fortunes independent on Business, who
have a Sufficiency of Leisure, and will hardly find
a more beneficial Way of filling up their vacant
Moments.

Yet, though these happy few have it in their
Power to make a greater Progress in learning
the Beauties of Nature, there are scarce any who
may not find some little Time, if they would be
perswaded to lay hold of it, in tracing the Outlines,
as one may call them, of her Perfections:
_―― The meanest Artificer allows himself some
Holidays in the Year;—he walks the Fields,
perhaps has a little Garden himself, and in the
smallest Spot of Earth may find enough to afford
him some Degree of Improvement and
Pleasure.

The Country Dame need not neglect her Dairy, G4v 56
Dairy, yet be acquainted with the Properties of
those Simples which grow about her very Door:
――The Beasts themselves instruct us in the
Virtues of many Vegetables, by their making
Choice of the most proper in any Disease, to
which their Kind is incident; and Hipocrates
himself owed the Discovery of the wonderful
Effects of an Elk’s Hoof, by perceiving that
Creature, when sick, always held his Foot for a
long Time close to his Ear.

As most of our worst Disorders spring originally
from the Head, this great Phliilosopher and
Physician presently imagined, that the Foot of this
Animal might not only be of Service in any Obstruction
of the capillary Vessels, but also in others,
which in fact are occasioned by the same Cause;
and as he knew it could not be of any Prejudice
to the Persons on whom he made the Experiment,
tried it with a Success, which all succeeding Ages
have had Reason to bless him for.

Many other great and valuable Secrets have
been found out by an Observation of the Animal
Creation:—For Example; the Virtues of the
Plantain might, perhaps, have to this Day been
unknown to us, had we not seen the Toad,
when bloated and almost bursting with its own
Venom, crawl to that healing Plant, and immediately
regain Ease and recover Vigour.

But these are Reflections which the gay Part
of my Sex, whether old or young, will tell me are H1r 57
are not worth their Notice: If they find themselves
any way disordered, they have their Physicians
to apply to; and have no Occasion to
trouble themselves with any thing relating to
Medicine.

This I readily grant to be true, as to the
higher Class; but for the more inferior Part of
Womankind, I think the World will allow that
it would be no Diminution to them to know a
little of these Matters.

But, however incongruous it may be with the
Character of a fine Lady to busy herself about
Vegetables, used either in the Kitchen or Distillery,
it cannot be so to have a little Concern for
those that so much gratify her Smell and Sight;
――those which she wears in her own Bosom,
and in her Hair, and are her most becoming Ornaments,
even amidst the Blaze of Jewels, and
the glowing Gold of the richest and best fancied
Brocade or Embroidery.

Flowers, and those aromatic Greens with
which our Gardens are covered, may be justly
called the Regale that Nature presents us with;
and sure, of all those innumerable Pleasures she
bestows upon us, none can be said to be more
exquisite.

The Jonquil, the Rose, the Jessamin, the
Orange-Flower, the Auricula, and a thousand
others, ravish two of our Senses with their Vol. IV. H Beauty, H1v 58
Beauty, and the Fragrancy of their Odour.――
Scarce any Person so stupid as not to be charm’d
with them.—They are, I think, the universal
Taste;――we not only see them in Gardens, but
preserved in Pots and China Basons in Ladies
Chambers; and, when deprived of the Originals
by the cold Blasts of Winter, we have them copied
in Painting, in Japanning, and in Embroidery.

How then can we forbear visiting our Green-
Houses sometimes, and observing the Production,
the gradual Growth, and the Preservation
of those Plants and Flowers, which afford
us so much Pleasure!

Why should our Gardeners be wiser than
ourselves?――Why should we put it in their
Power to deceive us, and not be able to detect
either their Negligence or Want of Skill in the
cultivating a Produce we are so proud of, when
brought to Perfection?

What can be more beautiful than an Assemblage
of various Flowers, all growing on the
same Tree; and, while we delight our Eyes
with beholding it, would not our Pleasure be
still more elegant in knowing how it comes to
pass?

Would it not furnish agreeable Matter for
Conversation, both to inform those less knowing
than ourselves, and to be able to argue with those H2r 59
those as pretend to greater Skill, on the wonderful
Progress of the distinct Sap which feeds
every different Flower, proceeding from so
many Arms of the same Stem?

Among all the Occupations of Gardening,
there is none so astonishing as Grafting; and we
never can too much admire the Force of that
Genial Juice, which, in a small Sprig taken off
one Tree and grafted into another, still retains
its primitive Nature; and even tho’ twenty
various Kinds should be inoculated in the same
Manner, all of them would preserve their native
Purity without the least Confusion, or blending
with each other:――So that the Flowers, sent
forth by these grafted Scions, no way differ in
Colour, Scent, or Figure, from those of their
own Species, which grow naturally from one
Stem.

Methinks it is a most becoming Amusement,
to Persons of my Sex, to sit by while the
Gardener is performing so curious an Operation,
nor in the least beneath the Dignity of the greatest
Lady to assist his Work:――It requires the
utmost Gentleness and Delicacy to cut the little
Scion exactly to tally with the Cleft made in the
Bark of that Stock in which it is intended to be
grafted; and also afterwards to close and swathe
up the Trunk, that no chilling Air or Rain may
penetrate, and prevent the Union of the one
with the other, till an outer Bark shall grow over
and cement them.

H2 I know H2v 60

I know that there are a great many People
who have an Aversion to grafting Scions of
different Natures, such as the Apple and the
Plumb, the Medlar and the Grape, or the Rose
and the Tulip, the Carnation and the Lilly, on
the same Tree:――They cry it is an Absurdity,
—something of a monstrous Appearance, instead
of a pleasing Wonder; and that every different
Fruit and Flower looks most agreeable, when
supplied from its own Root, as ordained by Nature;
any Innovation, or Breaking-in upon, of
which, are of all things to be avoided.

But these Objections seem to me as proceeding
only from a sour cinical Disposition: The
Trial how far Art may be reconciled with Nature,
is, in my Opinion, perfectly harmless;
affords an innocent Amusement; sharpens Invention;
and, as to its offending the Eye instead
of pleasing it, one may as well say that a Nosegay,
or a Bough-Pot, does so, which are always
composed of as many different Flowers as the
Season will permit.

I wonder People, who talk in this manner,
do not condemn Nature herself for bestowing
on the Orange-Tree Fruit in its Maturity, quite
green, and even in Blossom, all at the same
Time; or explode the Plant, and turn it out of
their Collections and Gardens, as an Absurdity
and a monstrous Appearance.

Or rather, why do these Enemies to Art, in this H3r 61
this Point, allow of it in others? Why do they
form so many Parterres, Arcades, Trees cut in
such Variety of Figures, and Shrubs rounded in
such a manner by the Gardener’s Scissars, as not
to seem they ever had been the Productions of
Nature?—Why do they not suffer every thing
to grow in that Luxuriancy and Wildness as we
see in Forrests, and uncultivated Desarts?――
The Order and Regularity of a Garden seems,
methinks, not to be correspondent with their
Notions.――Away with all Terrasses, Cascades,
Palisades, Bowers, and those other Arrangements,
which make the Difference between the
Ground possessed by a Nobleman and that of a
Peasant:――Let every thing grow as the Soil
and Air directs, and savage Simplicity be the
only Beauties of a Rural Scene.

But, supposing we put all this out of the
Question, and confine our Speculations intirely
to what is merely natural, we shall then never
want a vast Sufficiency to entertain us:――The
Circulation of that Fluid in Vegetables, which,
with a regular and uninterrupted Motion, like
the Blood in our own Veins, fills every little
Twig with Spiral Vigour, if considered with
the least Attention, must excite in us a pleasing
Astonishment.

To behold the Progress of a Flower from its
Infant Bud, then gradually increasing, and at
last opening its long-hid Beauties to our View,
and charming us at the same Time with its refresh- H3v 62
refreshing Odour, is certainly well worthy our
Observation.

But the Senses, methinks, ought not to ingross
so glorious a Benefit: The Mind should
certainly come in for a much greater Part, and
explore those Wonders in them, which cannot
fail of ravishing all its Faculties.

Every Tree of the Forrest, and Herbage
of the Field, as well as those nobler Plants
which gain Admission into our Gardens, are all
crown’d with Flowers, more or less beautiful.
These Flowers produce a Seed which perpetuate
the Species.—Some Seeds are inclosed in Fruits,
others in Chives, which, when the Flower is
withered, and in a manner dying, scatter themselves
into the Earth, and the next Year revive
again in Plants.

To content ourselves with tasting the Relish
of those luscious Fruits, which, from Month to
Month, are successively presented to us;――to
smell the Fragrancy of some Flowers, and to
look upon the variegated Beauty of others, is
beneath the Dignity of a rational Being. If we
go no farther than this, the Birds of the Air,
the Beasts of the Field, and even every creeping
Insect, enjoys the Charms of Nature in as
great Perfection as we do.

Perhaps too, even the meanest Reptile may
out-rival us in this Point; for, I think, it is agreed H4r 63
agreed on by the Learned, that the Animal
Creation in general have a quicker and more
poignant Sensation than is bestowed upon us.

It is in our Reason, and the Power of contemplating
on the Blessings we receive, that the
chief Happiness of possessing them consists.

It is that, more than his outward Form, which
distinguishes Man from the rest of sublunary
Beings: It is that which crowns him Lord of
all; and if he wilfully degrades himself, and puts
himself on a Level with his Subjects, he is unworthy
of the Honour conferred upon his Species,
and ungrateful to the Divine Bestower.

Can it be supposed that the Almighty Wisdom
gave such a Profusion of Varieties merely
to feast the Senses of Mankind!――Senses, which
all the different Religions in the known World,
the Mahometan not excepted, agree to teach us
that we ought not to indulge to an Excess:—
No, certainly;—no one who permits himself
but a Moment’s Consideration, will venture to
affirm it.――They were, without all Question,
destined for a much nobler and exalted Purpose,
to convey Instruction through the Canal of Pleasure;
――to inspire us with the highest Ideas
Human Nature is capable of conceiving, of that
Divine Bounty to which we are indebted for
them; to harmonize the Soul, and at the same
Time to enable it to pour forth a due Tribute of
Praise and Adoration.

How H4v 64

How strangely incongruous is it, then, with
Reason, or even with Common Sense, to imagine,
that all those vast Bodies we see glitter in
the Firmament, and even those we do not see,
are made wholly to serve us, yet think nothing
of those about us, the Benefits of which we
receive every Moment, and of which we have
the sole Sovereignty; since we alone enjoy the
Whole of what all other Creatures share but
their different Parts.

Man, if he surveys and reflects as he ought
to do, on the innumerable Advantages, Conveniencies,
and Pleasures, which, wherever he steps
or casts his Eyes, incessantly surround him, has
sufficient in this World to gratify his Pride,
without arrogantly pretending a Right over those
he knows nothing of.

Of this we are certain, that the Good Things
of this World are given us for our Use and Contemplation,
and to us alone, as alone capable of
enjoying them truly.

But I shall now take my Leave of this Subject,
which having carried me somewhat beyond
my Intentions, I find it impossible to present the
Ladies with the Mirror for true Beauty till next
Month, when they may be certain of its being
inserted; with also some other very agreeable
Pieces lately come to hand, calculated for general
Service, but more particularly for those of
my own Sex.

End of the Nineteenth Book.

The
Female Spectator.

Book XX.

Our Sex are, for the greatest Part,
so very fond of seeing their own
Pictures, that I am afraid many of
them will hbe disobliged with the
Female Spectator for having till
now withheld from them the Mirror for True
Beauty, which Philocletes was so good as to prepare
for them.

But, notwithstanding Curiosity is a Passion
impatient for Gratification, I would advise my
Sex to moderate it as much as they can, and take
the Warning Philocletes himself gives in his
Letter, which served as a Cover to the Present
he makes them, and is equally worthy the Attention
of all who wish to find an agreeable RepresentationVol. IV. I presentation I1v 66
of themselves, in a Glass, which has
nothing of the Properties of those they have been
accustomed to look in.

“To the Female Spectator. Madam, Ishall make no manner of Apology
for troubling you with the inclosed, because
it is evident by all those Writings with which
you have obliged the Public, that you have the
Honour and Welfare of your Sex too much
at Heart to be offended with any thing that can
possibly tend to their Profit, Pleasure, or Emolument.
To lend, therefore, what helping Hand I
can to so laudable an Endeavour, I take the
Liberty to present them, by your Canal, with
A Mirror for true Beauty, which to those who
are really possessed of so inestimable a Blessing,
cannot but afford an adequate Satisfaction. But, as I would be sorry to give Pain to
any, even of those least deserving Respect, I
would have all who are conscious of any secret
Blemish, beware how they look into it, lest, instead
of meeting with an agreeable Object,
they should see something which should make
them start back with Horror and Amazement. It is not a Set of fine turned Features, a
Complexion for Whiteness out-dazling the ‘new I2r 67
new fallen Snow, or Cheeks of a more
beautiful Tincture than the Damask Rose:—
It is not the Coral Lip, or Eyes that equal
the Stars in Brightness, that can assure the curious
Fair she will find herself in this Mirror
such as she appears in others. All these, and every other unspeakable
Grace on which the Sex most pride themselves,
are insufficient to compleat the true Beauty,
which it is absolutely necessary to be possessed
of, in order to find here such a Reflection as
those who consult it would desire. Nothing is in fact true Beauty, but what
is universally allowed to be such;――what is
every Man’s Taste, and enforces Love and Admiration
from all who behold it:――Now
Beauty, taken in the common Acceptation of
the Word, never can be so, because there are
almost as many different Opinions concerning
the Requisites for that Character, as there are
different Fancies to be charmed by it. Our famous ‘English Pindar’, than whom no
Man that ever lived was a greater Admirer of
it, discovers, however, with the most admirable
Propriety and Justice, the Impossibility of fixing
a Standard for deciding what is, and what
is not Beauty. ‘Beauty I2v 68 ‘Beauty, thou wild fanatic Ape, Which dost in every Country change thy Shape; Here black, there brown, here tawney and
there white: Who hast no certain What nor Where, But variest still, and dost thyself declare Inconstant, as thy She-Professors are.’ Dryden also has two excellent Lines to
the same Purpose, in his Poem of Palamon
and Arcite. ‘The Cause of Love can never be assign’d, ’Tis in no Face but in the Lover’s Mind.’ They must therefore be possessed of that
kind of Beauty which hits every Inclination,
who can view themselves in this Mirror with
any Satisfaction. Yet let not those least flattered by the
World be afraid of looking into it, perhaps
they will find Charms they have never before
considered the Value of; and though they
will not be vain on the Discovery, an innate
Pleasure, which no Words can represent, will
be the Consequence of it. Let not then Small Pox, Sickness, Old
Age, or any other of those Infirmities the Sex
stand in so much fear of, deter any one from
seeing her Resemblance in the Mirror I now
set before them; for I am very well assured, ‘that I3r 69
that those who expect to find the fewest Perfections
in themselves, will, on looking seriously
into it, confess the Picture truly amiable; and
be easily reconciled to Nature, for having bestowed
on them Graces, infinitely superior to
any she may have happened to deny them, be
the Deficiency ever so glaring, or may have
rendered them never so contemptible in the
Eyes of the ill-judging. My Mirror has also this peculiar Property:
—It is not like other Glasses daubed on one
Side with Quicksilver, but clear, transparent
as Innocence and Truth:――It not only shews
the Person who looks into it herself, such as
she is in reality; but displays impartially every
Charm or Imperfection to those who stand on
the other Side, and even at a very great Distance
from her. Even in an Age when the Fair Sex seem to
study nothing so much as to destroy that true
Beauty they received from the Hands of their
all beneficent Creator, I hope there will be
found among the Number of your Readers
some who may fearless appear before this all
betraying Glass:――At least I might depend
upon it, could I but as easily assure myself,
that what the Female Spectator has taken the
Pains to remonstrate to them, had had its due
Weight. But be that as it may, it is the Duty of all ‘those I3v 70
those who wish well to the most lovely Part of
the Creation, to neglect nothing that may add
to their Charms. It is on this Occasion, Madam, I am
proud to enter into your Labours, and am,
with the most unfeigned Respect, and Veneration,
ne Yours, and your worthy Companions,
Very much devoted,
and faithful Servant, Philocletes. 1745-09-16Sept.16, 1745.
Cavendish-square. A Mirror for True Beauty. Most humbly presented to those, who, on due
Examination of themselves, think proper to
look into it, by their Most humble Servant,
and sincere Admirer, Philocletes. Approach, ye charming few!――
ye happy! Select whose interior Beauty
shines through your outward Form, adding
new Graces to what Nature gave; approach
and see your lovely Portraitures faithfully
displayed:――Behold Perfections in yourselves‘selves K1r 71
which is not in the Power of the
Painter’s Art to copy, nor the most passionate
and eloquent of your Lovers to describe. And first, ye spotless Virgins, who having
never known a married State, are equally ignorant
of all tumultuous Desires, all Impatience
for entering into it:—You, who consider
the Difference of Sexes no farther than to take
Care to behave in such a Manner, as not to
encourage any Presumption in the one, or
provoke the Malice of the other:—You, who
despise the gay Fopperies of the Times, and
find it sufficient to appear once at each Place
of present Resort, to be able to shun them all
for ever after:――You, who never knew a
Thought, which to avow would call a Blush
into your Cheeks:――You, who free from
Pride, Affectation, Vanity and Ill-nature, divide
your Hours between Acts of Duty and
innocent Recreation,—fearless draw near, and
behold the angelic Sweetness that dwells on
every Feature;――see how the unblemished
Mind shines through the Eyes, diffusing Chearfulness
to all around, and making a kind of
Heaven wherever you come. Next in true Beauty, ye chaste Wives
draw near!—You, whose pure Hearts never
entertained one wandering Wish:—You, whose
Inclinations, in all Respects in Life, have still
gone Hand in Hand, if not prevented the
Will of him on whom Heaven has bestowed Vol. IV. K ‘you: K1v 72
you:――You, to whom all Mankind, besides
him you have sworn to love, are but so many
Pictures:――You, whose Oeconomy and prudential
Care enables you to appear so as to
make your Fortune seem double to what it is,
yet whose Hospitality renders all easy who
come near you:—You, who know how to
repay the Endearments of the most tender
Husband with ample Interest; and you, in
whom the greatest Provocations of an ill and
cruel one cannot excite even the most distant
Thought of injuring his Interest, Honour, or
Reputation:――You, who either by your
Wisdom, and reserved Behaviour, have avoided
every thing that can be called Temptation;
or by your firm Adherence to Virtue, have
known how to testify a decent Abhorrence of
them, in all Circumstances and in all Events:
――Ye, glorious Patterns of Connubial Fidelity,
may approach and view the awful Dignity
that sits enthroned upon your Brows,
and sheds a Lustre over all your Persons, at
once commanding Love from all good Men,
and Admiration even from the worst. Last, but not least in Fame, ye venerable
Tribe of widowed Matrons! You, who have
past with Honour your two first Stages of Life,
and support the third with a becoming Fortitude
and Patience, behold in me your graceful
Aspects:—You, over whose unvariable Affection
Death has no Power:—You, in whose
faithful Hearts your Husband still survives: ‘You K2r 73
You, who continue wedded to the Memory
of your first Love, and fly all second Offers,
though accompanied with Titles, Wealth, and
every gilded Prospect, so enchanting to the less
constant of your Sex:—You, whose happy
Offspring feel not a Father’s Loss in the rich
Blessings of maternal Care and doubled Tenderness:
—You, whose Example, and whose
sage Advice preserves the Innocent, and reclaims
the Guilty:—You, whose candid Praises give
new Strength to Virtue, and whose mild Reproofs
make Vice abhorrent of itself:――You,
who know how to temper Gravity with Chearfulness,
and to dress all, even the strictest Duties
of a Woman and a Christian in the Garb
of Pleasure:—You, who answer the Character
the wisest of Men gives of a virtuous Woman,
‘That her own Works shall praise her in the Gates:’
That Praise will not only be yours, but you will
see yourselves in this Mirror, and be seen by
others through it with Charms which will well
compensate for those which either you have
been denied by Nature, or which Time may
have deprived you of: There will be something
an unspeakable Majesty, whether you look, or
speak, or move, creating Esteem in every
Beholder’s Heart; and you, and those of the
preceding Classes, will appear such as our admirable
Milton describes the Mother of Mankind,
while in her State of Innocence: ‘Grace was in all her Steps, Heav’n in her Eyes! In all her Motions Dignity and Love.’ K2 ‘These K2v 74 These are the true Beauties which alone
can see themselves with any Pleasure; for as
for those who have forsaken Wisdom and followed
Folly, who have devoted themselves to
midnight Masquerades, immoderate Gaming,
forgot the Duties of their Sex and Place, and
are in any respect the Reverse of such as I
have described, they must not be angry with
the Mirror, if it presents them with Deformities
they little expected:――If, instead of
blooming Graces, and an attractive Air in
their Complexion and Features, they find
Wrinkles which no Cosmetick or Italian
Fucus can fill up:—Dimness and sinking in
the Eyes, Contortions in the whole Face, such
as no studied Arts can rectify, or bring back to
their primitive Harmony:—Let, therefore,
those fly hence, lest the too terrifying Representation
should drive them into Frenzy; at
least let them take this Caution, to approach
with Fearfulness, and by Degrees: Even that
may serve to render their Blemishes less
hideous than they would seem on a Surprize,
and as they grow more sensible of themselves,
those Blemishes would doubtless, if not quite
wear of, become not so conspicuous as before.”

We think ourselves obliged, in the Name of
the whole Sex, to thank Philocletes, for the
amiable Pictures he has given us of what is true
Beauty in Womankind, through the three materialrial K3r 75
Circumstances in Life, and in which, indeed,
all the others also are included.

For this Reason it is utterly impossible to add
any thing on a Subject, which in the most brief
and concise Manner he has given the fullest Idea
of, and which to expatiate upon, would be not
only needless, but instead of giving any Lustre,
would rather serve to take from that it has received
from his more masterly Genius, and render
it more languid, and consequently less effectual.

But, methinks, I hear some of our modish
fine Ladies cry out,—“What does the Man mean?
—Does he think the Qualifications he sets down
would get any of us one more Lover in our Train?
—Would they not rather render us the Jest of all
the pretty Fellows in Town?”—Others again, of
a yet somewhat more serious Disposition, will
say, “That if a Woman must answer in every Point
to the Character he gives of true Beauty, there
would be no such Thing to be found among the
Sex.”

As to the first, it would be altogether in vain
to make them any Answer, since it would doubtless
be treated with the same Contempt as the
Mirror itself; but as to the others, I would beg
them to reflect, that it is in the Power of every
Woman to be possessed of that true Beauty which
Philocletes has delineated, and it is only the Libertine
Part of the other Sex who ought to make
a Question of it.

It K3v 76

It is true, that all have not an equal Share of
the Perfections of the Mind, any more than of
the Body, but all may endeavour to improve
those they have; and that very Attempt would
make them appear not altogether deformed,
even in Philocletes’s Mirror.

But I have already, in a former Spectator,
taken Notice, that if we took but half the Care
of embellishing our intellectual Part as we do
of setting off our Persons, both would appear to
much more Advantage.

Whether any Remonstrances of mine, or
others who are Well-wishers to the Sex, have
been able to work the Effect they aimed at, is uncertain;
we ought not, however, to give over,
because a Moment may bring about what whole
Ages in vain have toiled for; and sometimes a
slight Word, which perhaps when spoken was unheeded,
has afterwards recoiled upon the Memory,
and made an Impression on the Mind beyond
what the most elaborate Treatises had done.

While therefore I am convinced within myself,
that what I am doing is not only intended,
but also may possibly make any of my Readers
either better or wiser, I shall easily absolve myself
for being less entertaining than many of them
may desire or expect from me.

It has, notwithstanding, been hitherto the
Care of the Female Spectator to mingle Pleasure with K4r 77
with Instruction, and we are far from discontinuing
the same Measures, though it must be
confessed we have of late pursued Subjects of a
more serious Nature, than those with which we
at first set out.

But I trust we shall easily be forgiven even
by the gayest and most volatile, as Variety is always
agreeable to them, especially as we have now
by us some Letters, which I am pretty sure will
be esteemed of the amusing kind, and with
which we shall lard, as it were, our more grave
Speculations, as often as the Order in which we
receive them will permit.

The next, which at present demands our Attention,
is a Piece, which, we dare depend upon,
will be equally agreeable to the Gay and Serious,
as it is of a like Concern to both, and done in a
Manner which cannot but please all of a polite
Taste.

“To the ingenious Authors of the Female
Spectator. Ladies, As it is not probable that any new Thing,
especially such as are allowed worthy
of reading, should escape the Examination of
the Female Spectator, I take it for granted, you
are perfectly acquainted with a celebrated Piece,
first published about two Years since, and is
entitled, The Pleasures of Imagination:――The ‘Subject K4v 78
Subject is so copious, and the ingenious Author
has treated of it in so philosophical a
Manner, that I have been in continual Expectation
of seeing something from you upon it. But as you have not thought fit to make
mention of it in any of those Essays you have
hitherto published, I beg Leave to offer you
some few Thoughts of my own, not on the
Poem itself, but on the Matter it contains,
which you are at Liberty either to publish or
suppress, as you shall find most expedient. Imagination is, indeed, one of the great
Prerogatives of Man; and I know not whether
there is any other Thing which so much distinguishes
him Lord of the whole Creation. It is this Assemblage or Association of
Ideas which convinces us we have a Soul, and
that that Soul is also of divine and immortal
Existence, by its partaking in a lower Degree
of the Nature of Omniscience; for to what
else can be ascribed, that Ability we find in ourselves
of seeing what is beyond the Reach of
the Senses? We not only have the Power of contemplating
all in Nature, that is, all we can discern
of Nature, but of soaring with the Wings of
Fancy or Imagination to the intellectual World,
and of conversing, as it were, with Beings of ‘a L1r 79
a superior Order, and which meer Flesh and
Blood could never attain to any Notion of. The enquiring Mind is ever searching, ever
prying, ever impatient for Objects new, wonderful,
and amiable; and what the Senses cannot
penetrate, nor even Reason fathom, Imagination
flatters us with presenting:――By this
the poorest, and most abject in Condition may
enjoy the Grandeur and Felicity of the most
opulent;――the ill-treated Lover be in full
Possession of the Charms he languishes for, and
the Captive in his Dungeon enjoy all the Sweets
of Liberty.――What, in effect, cannot the
Mind attain, when, conscious of its Power, it
preserves a Harmony within itself, and disdains
to be affected with any thing relating to Sensation!
O wondrous Gift! O favourite Blessing of
all-beneficent Heaven, never to be too much
prized; never to be too much acknowledged
by the grateful, by the enlivened Heart! Yet may this excelling Benefit, like every
other Good, be perverted; and instead of the
Happiness it was intended to confer upon Mankind,
involve us in the very worst of Miseries. Let us, therefore, remember, that those
Ideas, which may be said to compose Imagination,
have equally the Means of giving Pain
as Pleasure:――That there are no Misfortunes,Vol. IV. L ‘tunes, L1v 80
no Evils which can come in any Degree
of Competition with those Horrors the Mind
is capable of presenting:—It frequently, not
only shews us adverse Fortune in its worst
Form, but also images out Woes which never
had a Being, even so far as to drive too many
of us into Frenzy and Desperation. How then is this to be avoided, will the Libertine
demand?—The Question is easily answered,
by accustoming ourselves to reflect,
and contemplate only on such Things as are
worthy the Attention of a Rational Creature. For when we set our Hearts on the Pursuit
of any thing beneath the Dignity of our
Species, or give way to vain Passions and inordinate
Desires, though a sanguine Constitution
may enable us to form Ideas of the Gratification
of them, perhaps even more pleasing
than the very Enjoyment might prove; yet
are we in Danger every Moment of a sad Reverse:
――That same Power of Imagination,
which filled us so lately with Raptures, may
give us adequate Horrors in Turn:――This
is a Certainty which Numbers have experienc’d,
and I believe Nobody will deny. When we delight in, and bend our Attention
to the Wonders of the Creation, and the
beautiful Produce of Nature, then indeed may
Contemplation be ravished, even to an Extasy; ‘the L2r 81
the Mind will be elated with the Blessings it
finds every where bestowed upon it, and become
all dissolved in Joy and humble Gratitude. Would Man consider as he ought the
mighty Privileges of his Nature, how, half Divine,
he was not formed to be engrossed by low
and sensual Objects; but has Faculties, which,
if rightly applied, enable him to partake the
Fellowship of Angels, and to converse even with
God himself; how much would he despise
all the gaudy Trifles, which by their painted
Shew attempt to lure him from his real Good,
and with fictitious Prospects of high Felicity
betray him into Depths of Woe. Hence it follows, that Imagination, as it is
capable of affording us the most exquisite Satisfaction
the Soul can know, while it is link’d
to Clay, so it inflicts on us the bitterest of Sorrows,
and the most poignant Annguish. If we do not early harmonize our Minds,
and accustom ourselves to the Contemplation of
the moral Virtues, to subdue our Passions, and
give Reason an Opportunity to exert itself,
we shall naturally be led astray by the Senses
to Aims, in which Imagination will at most afford
us but a short-lived Satisfaction. To well regulate our Thoughts was doubtless
the Purpose of the ingenious Author of the
Poem I mentioned, and which gave Occasion L2 to L2v 82
to my troubling you with this Epistle:――I am
infinitely charmed with that agreeable Episode
which so beautifully describes Virtue always
attended with Pleasure, and shews how Man,
when he forsakes the One, is sure of being abandoned
by the Other. But with all due Deference to this Gentleman’s
Judgment, I think he has not sufficiently
painted out the Horrors which Imagination
presents, when we are deprived of the Society
of these two amiable Companions:—Such a
Representation would not, indeed, have come
properly in under the Title he has given his
Poem; but if, instead of The Pleasures of Imagination,
which includes but one Part of the
Question, he had called it The Force of Imagination,
he would then have had full room to
exert the great Talent he has proved himself
Master of, in shewing us the Whole of that
extensive Faculty. I am loth to think he suffered himself to be
deterred from doing what would have rendered
his Work so compleat, by any Apprehensions
of rendering it too serious for some of his
Readers; I rather believe that he intends a second
Part, in which all the Distractions which
a disturbed Imagination can inflict will be delineated
in their proper Colours. In the mean Time, Ladies, I should think it
well worthy the Pen of a Female Spectator to ‘lay L3r 83
lay down some Rules, by which the unwary
Mind might be prevented from falling into
any Dangers of the Kind I have mentioned. In my Opinion, one of the first is never to
be too much attached to any one Thing in
Life, or even to Life itself. To banish all kind of Arrogance from the
Heart, and to fix a Resolution of submitting
chearfuly to what Fate ordains, will also greatly
contribute to render our Imaginations pleasing. But above all Things to avoid Anxiety for
the Knowledge of future Events:――’Tis
scarce possible, but that though the Ideas we
at first may form of them may be agreeable,
and others of a different Nature will succeed, or at
least crowd in among them, to the Confusion
of our Peace. These Maxims, difficult as they may seem,
may with a great deal of Ease be put in Practice,
by a Mind which begins to make the Essay,
before any vehement Passion gets Possession
of it, or ill Habits have corrupted it. The Advice which you, Ladies, have already
given may go a great Way towards accomplishing
a Work so much to be wished:
To keep ourselves always employed in some
praise-worthy, or at least innocent Studies, will
doubtless prevent, in a great measure, all pestilent‘lent L3v 84
Fancies from getting any Entrance into
the Brain. But as no Business, no Avocation whatever
will bar the Intrusion of some Sorts of Passion,
we are not to let any one Desire get the better
of us, but to check in their very Infancy all
Emotions, whether of Pleasure in the Imagination
of succeeding, or of Pain in that of a
Disappointment:――Both are alike pernicious,
because the One is almost always the certain
Consequence of the Other. Even Friendship, the noblest, purest, and
most exalted Passion of the Soul, ought also to
have its Bounds:――To speak in the Language
of Divinity, whenever we love the
Creature more than the Creator, we may expect
some heavy Affliction to fall on us, either
wounding us in our own Persons, or in that of
the Object of our too violent Affection: But
setting aside the Precepts of Religion, those of
common Reason and Experience will inform
us, that Imagination will be very busy in presenting
us with Ideas disturbing to our Peace,
whenever we are absent from the Person who
so much engrosses our Cares. We should therefore endeavour so to regulate
all our Affections and Inclinations, even
though of the most laudable Kind, that the
over Assiduity for the Performance of one Duty
shall not occasion us to neglect the others, as ‘is L4r 85
is too frequently the Case with the very best
of People; for Devotion itself may become a
Fault, when carried to a Pitch of Superstition or
Enthusiasm. In fine, whoever gives too great a Loose to
Imagination, will be in danger of feeling its
Horrors as well as Pleasures; and though nothing
affords a Satisfaction equal to that of
Contemplation on worthy Objects, yet when
indulged to an Excess becomes the very reverse,
and fills us with Apprehensions of Disasters
which are without Existence. I should, notwithstanding, be sorry, that
what I have said should deprive any one of the
Pleasures of Imagination:――Let us, in the
Name of God, enjoy them in as full a Manner
as the beneficent Author intended; but let
not the Power he has given us be abused, or
prostituted to Ends unworthy of it:――Let
us confine our Contemplations to such Objects
as the Poem before me directs; let us study
Natural and Moral Philosophy, we shall find
enough in them to entertain and charm the
most extensive Mind, and, if we descend no
lower, can never feel the Woes of Imagination.
All I have offered is only to warn those
who are addicted to Solitude and much Thinking,
how they suffer Fancy to fix itself too intensely
on such Things as can be of no Advantage‘vantage L4v 86
to them, but to have always in Mind
the Petition Dr. Young makes to Heaven in
the first Book of his excellent Poem, entitled
The Complaint, or Night Thoughts, on Life,
Death, and Immortality: The Words are
these: ‘Teach my best Reason Reason, to my Will Teach Rectitude.’ It is certain, that while uncorrupted Reason
guides the Will we shall have no Imaginations
but such as are serene and pleasing: We shall
make the true Use of that Divine Gift which
Heaven has left entirely to our own Management,
and by that Permission, as well as by
the Gift itself, renders us little inferior to the
Angels. But I fear being too tedious;――if the
inserting this, or any Hints taken from it, will
be of the least Service to you, or to your Readers,
you may be assured it will afford one
pleasing Topic for Imagination to him, who
is, with all possible Regard, Ladies,
Your most faithful,
and most humble Servant. Acasto. Oxford,
1745-09-20Sept. 20, 1745.” I M1r 87

I believe the greatest Admirers of Mr. Akinside’s
Poem, will not be offended at any thing
Acasto has offered in relation to it:—It is,
without doubt, an excellent Performance, truly
poetic, elegant, full of noble Sentiments, and
highly conducive to the End he proposes by it;
to harmonize the Mind, and awaken it to a just
Sense of the immense Obligations conferred on it
by the Deity.

Yet I cannot but say, that it would have been
of more general Service, had these Miseries, which
the Powers of Imagination are capable of afflicting,
been delineated, with the same Energy and
Spirit as the Pleasures which arise from it.

The Reason is obvious, and needs no Explanation;
since none but Minds refined and delicate
are qualified to relish the One, but all may
feel the Other in a more or less Degree.

A Person of weak Intellects, in attempting
to soar too high a Flight, not seldom shares the
Fate of Icarus, and, instead of the Wonders he
is endeavouring to explore, falls at once into an
irrecoverable Depth of Confusion and Perplexity.

Whence is Madness,――whence is Despair,
with all its Train of nameless Horrors, but from
the Ideas which Imagination forms!

When Imagination is invigorated by any inordinate
Passion or Desire, as Acasto most justly Vol. IV. M observes, 88 M1v
serves, to what frightful Extravagancies may we
not be transported?――Deeds, which in fact we
shudder at, we then make no scruple to commit
in Fancy;—indulge the guilty Wish, and satiate in
Theory, Love and Revenge, till new Ideas rise
in the tormented Brain, and Disappointment
glares us in the Face;――then, doubly cursed,
we are in that State of Mind which Milton so
well describes of our first Parents, after their Loss
of Innocence: “They sat them down to weep, not only Tears Rain’d at their Eyes, but worse, high Winds within Began to rise; high Passions, Anger, Hate, Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore Their inward State of Mind, calm Region once, And full of Peace, now toss’d and turbulent; For Understanding rul’d not, and the Will Heard not her Love, both in Subjection now To sensual Appetite, who from beneath, Usurping over sovereign Reason, claim’d Superior Sway.”

But however destructive the Powers of Imagination
may be to some Minds, by being perverted,
or too far exerted, the Poet in representing the
Pleasures flowing from them, if rightly applied,
cannot be condemned, because, according to my
Judgment, he confines those Pleasures entirely to
the Contemplation of the Deity, and the all wonderful,
beauteous, and diversified Charms of Nature,
and the laudable Imitation of every thing
she presents that is great, lovely, or novel, which, as M2r 89
as he truly says, are the three Qualities which
chiefly strike upon the Mind, and give Imagination
Leave to play.

That beautiful Allegory in his second Book,
where he iuntroduces the Genius of the Human
Specie, as chiding the narrow Conceptions of his
Sons, and their unjust repining at Providence for
particular Woes, gives us an instructive Lesson
of Fortitude, Humility, and Resignation to the
Divine Will, which conducts every Individual
for the Good of the Whole.

His Quotation from Plato in the Marginal
Notes on this Passage is also admirably adapted,
and serves not only as an Explanation of his
Meaning in the Poem, but very much enforces
it; insomuch, as it were to be wished, many
who call themselves Christians would consider seriously
of what this Heathen Philosopher has said,
and they would then know better how to form
both their Sentiments and Practice more agreeable
to the Dignity of their Nature, setting aside
their Profession, than they now seem to do.

Philosophy is indeed our great Resource,
when under the Apprehensions, or real enduring
Ills; and when we have ravaged all that has been
urged in the voluminous Tracts of Religious Selfdenial
and patient Suffering, thither we must come
at last; as Lucretius, though in many Things
blameable, in this ought to be regarded: Mr.
Dryden, who certainly has done him Justice, has, M2 in M2v 90
in more than one of his Works, taken Notice of
some Lines from that great Author, which I think
it will not be improper here to transcribe, as
some of my Readers may possibly not have met
with them, and ought to be well considered by
every one. “Oh! if the foolish Race of Man, who find A Weight of Cares still pressing on their Mind, Could find as well the Cause of this Unrest, And all this Burthen lodg’d within the Breast; Sure they would change their Course; nor live
as now, Uncertain what to wish, or what to vow. Uneasy both in Country, and in Town, They search a Place to lay their Fardel down: One restless in his Palace, walks abroad, And vainly thinks to leave behind the Load; But strait returns: For he’s as restless there, And finds there’s no Relief in open Air. Another to his Villa would retire, And spurs as hard as if it were on Fire: No sooner enter’d at his Country Door, But he begins to stretch, and yawn, and
snore; Or seeks the City, which he left before. Thus every Man o’erworks his weary Will, To shun himself, and to shake off his Ill: The shaking Fit returns, and hangs upon him
still. No Prospect of Repose,—no Hope of Ease, The Wretch is ignorant of his own Disease; Which M3r 91 Which known, would all his fruitless Trouble spare; For he would know the World not worth his
Care. Then would he search more deeply for the Cause; And study Nature well, and Nature’s Laws.”

Whoever indeed does this will find the
Powers of Imagination pleasing to him; but
whoever neglects it, will have always something,
either real or ideal to torment him.

Every one knows, that it is the Property of
a strong and lively Imagination, to magnify all
that is within its reach, which is not only all
that is in Nature, but even beyond Nature:—
It contents not itself with enhancing the Woes it
finds, but creates new ones, and such as are even
morally impossible should ever come to pass.

It also very frequently happens, that in endeavouring
to avoid an imaginary Ill, we run into a
real one;—and so strong has this Self-deception
sometimes been, that all the Remonstrances made
by our Friends, or by our own Reason, have proved
ineffectual to erase an Impression imprinted on
our Minds meerly by some sudden Fancy.

I once heard of a Man, who having dreamt
his House was on fire, could not be perswaded
after he was awake but that it was so:—He was
certain he smelt Smoke, and the Fright depriving
him of all Consideration, he threw open his
Doors, and cried out for Help:――The Neighboursbours M3v 92
were instantly alarmed;――his House full
of People, and among the Crowd, a Number of
those Wretches, who watch for an Opportunity
of profiting themselves in such Calamities, under
the Pretence of assisting the Person in Distress.

Every Room was carefully examined, and he
was at last convinced, that Imagination had imposed
on his Understanding:—There was no
Fire, nor the least Appearance of any; but, poor
unhappy Man, while he was busy in searching
one Chamber, the Plunderers still stript the
others, till they had left nothing for the Flames
to destroy, if there really had been any:――
All was carried off in the Confusion, none knew
by whom, and he was left without a Bed to lie
upon, or the least Conveniency whatever.

On perceiving his Misfortune, the same Force
of Imagination, which had first occasioned, now
represented it in more shocking Colours than it
indeed deserved, because it seems he had a competent
Estate in Land, which could neither be
burned or stole away, and afforded more than a
Sufficiency for his Support.

He thought, however, of nothing but perishing
for Want, and all the Terrors of such a Condition
at once assailing him, entirely unhinged
Reason and Reflection, and hurried by the black
Idea, he threw himself Headlong out of a Window,
two Stories from the Street, where his Brains
were dashed upon the Pavement.

Sad M4r 93

Sad Instance what the Force of a perverted
Imagination can perform! If the Story be true,
which, though I will not pretend to affirm, must
own, I can find nothing in it that is in the least
incompatible with Probability.

The Histories of former Times present us
with a Cloud of Testimonies, that not only
private Men, but whole Nations have been so infatuated
by Ideas of their own Formation, that
they have run with the utmost Zeal and Precipitation,
nay courted the very greatest of Mischiefs,
on no other Motive than to be free from even
the bare Apprehensions of the smallest and most
inconsiderable, were they in reality to arrive.

Let the Ring-Leaders of the Populace but
once be fired with a strong Imagination of any
thing, be it never so opposite to Reason, Truth,
or Justice, the whole Rabble catch immediately
the Infection, join in full Cry, abetting with their
whole Force the Madness. As the Poet says, “Almighty Crowd! Thou shorten’st all Dispute, Power is thy Essence, Wit thy Attribute; Nor Faith, nor Reason make thee at a Stay, Thou leap’st o’er all eternal Truths in thy Pindaric
Way. Yet popular Applause, the noisy Praise Of giddy Crowds, is changeable as Winds; Still vehement, often without a Cause: Servant to Chance, and blowing in the Tide Of M4v 94 Of swol’n Success, but veering with its Ebb, It leaves the Channel dry.”

But supposing that no Inconvenience, no
Distaster befalls us, besides the Horrors we sustain,
by figuring to ourselves Misfortunes, sure
they of themselves might be sufficient to deter
any reasonable Person from giving way to them.

To be plain, I would, methinks, not have
Contemplation confounded with the Powers of
Imagination, the latter of which borders too
much in Fancy and Fiction, whereas the other
is under the Government of Reason, and is guided
by Truth.

The learned Author, whose Poem gave Occasion
both for the Letter from Acasto, and our
Remarks upon it, is very copious in his Praises
on Imagination, as it refines the sublime and
polite Arts of Poetry, Musick, and Sculpture:
There is no Question to be made but in Imitation,
it is not only a Help but an Inspirer; but
then we ought to observe, that every Science
seeks to delight, not terrify the Mind.—When
the famous Apelles attempted to draw the Picture
of a Wretch expiring on the Rack, that
Imagination, which he had been accustomed to
exert in his more delightful Representations, stood
him in no stead in this:—Often he essayed, but
essayed in vain; till enraged at the Disappointment,
he threw his Pallat at the Picture, Part of
which, daubed as it was with various Colours, glancing N1r 95
glancing on the Face of the Man he had been
drawing, gave an Agony to the Features which
his own Fancy was too composed to give him
any just Idea of.

Let Imagination, however, be allowed to
contribute greatly to the Works of Imitation;
where it can possibly have no prejudicial Effect
on the intense Mind, when once the Work is
compleated, still it will be found dangerous where
no such Avocation demands it, because it being
so active a Quality, it must have some Employment
of one kind of other; and if great Care be
not taken to provide such for it as is conducive
to Happiness, there is more than a Possibility it
will find such for itself as leads to Misery and Disquiet.

The Marquis du Park, in his excellent Treatise
entitled, Rules for the well regulating the
Mind, gives us among many others this Maxim.

“Whenever a Recess from Business, or the
active Pleasures of the World invites you to
indulge Reflection and Meditation, chuse for
their Object only such Things as may either
improve or delight:—Endeavour, as much as
possible, to avoid all Destraction of Ideas,—
all wandering and confused Images; for on
the being able to preserve a clear, unmixed,
and chearful Imagination, depends, in a great
measure, the Conduct of your future Actions.” Vol. IV. N Ima- N1v 96

Imagination, says another great Author,
is the Fountain Head, from which all the
Movements of Life are derived:—Imagination is
the Source of Contemplation,—Contemplation produces
Design, and Design breaks forth in Action;
so that if the first is vitiated and corrupt, all the
others will naturally be impure.

Too much, indeed, cannot be said to warn
People of the Dangers of giving way to any
gloomy discontented Thoughts; for, if in the
least indulged, they will infallibly grow upon the
Mind, and form at last the most frightful and
horrible Ideas.

The Female Spectator, therefore, is obliged to
join with Acasto in wishing, that the same kind
Hand, which has so elegantly painted out to us
the Pleasures resulting from Imagination, had
also given a Picture of the Pains to which we
may be subjected, in case the Powers of that extensive
Quality are not restrained within due
Bounds, and under the Guidance of right Reason.

But should that Gentleman either not think
fit to treat upon the Subject, or be hindered from
obliging the World by his other more profitable
Avocation, Mira, our worthy President, informs
us, that a Friend of hers, who wants no Capacity
for such an Undertaking, is now writing a Poem
on that Subject, which she assures us there is no
room to doubt will be very touching, as the Au- N2r 97
Author himself has felt, in a very severe Manner,
the Anguish he attempts to describe.

If nothing of that kind, which his Modesty
may make him think better than his own, appears
in Print, before he has concluded his Poem, we
flatter ourselves we shall have the Pleasure to
communicate it to the World in one of our future
Lucubrations.

But our Correspondents I am afraid by this
Time begin to think themselves neglected: I
must, therefore, according to my usual Custom,
go on with the several Letters I have been favoured
with, at least those of them which are
not improper to be inserted in a Work of this
Nature, I mean such as to our Judgment appears
so:――If at any Time we should happen to be
mistaken, I trust the Public will forgive it, as a
Fault not proceeding from Design; and which,
on a candid Remonstrance from any of our judicious
Readers, we should endeavour to rectify
by a future and more exact Circumspection.

The following is a Complaint, grounded indeed
on too common a Foundation, and in which
melancholy Truth it is not to be doubted, but a
great many of our Sex have sufficient Cause to
join in Consort with the fair Author, though they
have submitted to their Fate in Silence, perhaps
to the Ruin of their own future Peace.

N2 To N2v 98 “To the Female Spectator. Madam, The good Advice you have given our
Sex, and the Tenderness you have always
expressed for our well doing in the World,
emboldens me to become one of your Correspondents,
though, Heaven knows, little qualified
to write to a Person of so polite a Taste,
much less to appear in Print. The Matter, however, will, I hope, excuse
the Manner in which I express myself both to
you and to the World; and as I have no
other View in publishing my unfortunate Story,
but to prevent others from being subjected to
the same Fate, and giving you an Opportunity
to expatiate on a Cruelty too much practised,
and too little condemned by the Generality
of People, I cannot, I think, be blamed,
with any Shew of Justice, for so doing. Without any farther Apology then, Madam,
permit me to acquaint you, I am the only
Daughter of a Person, who, by his own Industry,
and great Success in Trade, has accumulated
a very large Fortune; my Mother
dying when I was very young, he made up
up that Loss to me by an extraordinary Care
both of my Person and Education; the latter
of which was indeed beyond what is ordinarily
allowed by Persons of his Station to their Children,‘dren, N3r 99
especially Daughters; but as I was his
all, and he declared against a second Marriage,
therefore was to inherit whatever he should die
possessed of, he told every body that he would
bring me up so as not to let me be a Disgrace
to my Fortune. In this Resolution he persevered, till I arrived
at the Age of Fifteen, or thereabouts,
when I first began to perceive an Alteration:
—Though Wealth continued to flow in upon
him, and no Disappointments happened in any
of his Undertakings, he grew extremely parsimonious,
and at last quite covetous:――He
retrenched the Number of his Servants, the
Dishes on his Table, and even denied himself a
Bottle of Wine in an Evening, a Thing he was
wont to say he could not live without. Amidst this new Oeconomy it is not to be
doubted but that I had my Share:――My
usual Stipend for Pocket Money was lessened,
had new Cloaths but seldom, and of a cheaper
Sort than formerly, and was now never suffered
to go to a Play, Opera, or any other public
Diversion; not that he disliked them on any
other Account than the Expence, but every
Thing that exceeded the common Necessaries
of Life he now looked upon as so many Extravagancies.
This, Madam, you may perhaps imagine
was a very great Mortification to me, and it would N3v 100
would, indeed, have been so, had I not been
taken up at that Time, as it happened, with
Thoughts which left me no room to consider
on any thing beside. The Son of a Leicestershire Gentleman,
who, whenever he came to Town, lodged at
our House, found something in me that he
thought worthy of the most serious Attachment,
and I, for my Part, had never seen any Man
before him whose Idea was capable of giving
me either Pain or Pleasure in the least Degree. In fine, having a mutual Affection for each
other, it was easy for him to prevail on me to
permit him to acquaint both our Parents
with it:――The Supposition of my being a
great Fortune made his listen with a very favourable
Ear to the Proposal, and mine had no
Objection to make, as the young Gentleman
was Heir to a very good Estate, and had withall
a fair Character from all that knew him. That Love which before we had kept a
Secret from all the World, was now avowed to
all our Friends and Acquaintance; and none
among them but thought the Union between
us, which was soon expected, would be extremely
agreeable on all Accounts. For us, we thought of nothing, but indulging
the gayest Hopes of future Felicity, and
had not the least Notion of any Disappointmentment N4r 101
in an Affair which was so well approved
of by those who had the Disposal of us. But, alas! we soon found we had but deceived
ourselves, and that the enchanting Prospect
before our Eyes was no more than an Illusion,
which only served to make the coming
Misfortune less easy to be borne:—The material
Point to make us happy was yet wanting,
though we had never once considered it:――
Our own Wishes, our Ambition centered only
in the Possession of each other, and we looked
no farther. As we had conversed together some Time, the
Father of my Lover thought it proper to ask
mine what Portion he intended to bestow on
me, that he might order his Lawyer to draw
up Articles, and make a suitable Settlement on
me. To this my Father answered, that there
was no need of being at that Trouble; that as
I was to have all he had after his Decease, he
did not think of parting with any Sum of Money
by way of Portion before, which he might
have occasion for in Trade, and the other could
not want, having so good an Estate. How much the Gentleman was surprized at
so unexpected a Reply, I leave you to guess:—
They had, it seems, a long Debate upon it however;
but the one thinking it unreasonable his
Son should marry on such Terms, and the
other being determined not to bestow any Money‘ney N4v 102
with me, they broke off the whole Affair,
both mutually exclaiming against the Injustice
of the other. My Lover was now forbid by his Father,
ever to see or write to me any more, and I was
told I ought to despise him, for all the Passion
he pretended to have for me, was only for the
Portion he expected to receive with me. I own to you, Madam, that at first this gave
some Alarm to my Pride, but the dear injured
Youth soon convinced me of his Fidelity, and
disinterested Tenderness he felt for me, by making
use of all the Arguments in his Power
to prevail on me to be married in private; and
when he found I would by no Means consent
to that, offered to lead me publicly to the Altar,
though he should by so doing incur the
eternal Displeasure of his Father, and be deprived
of all he was born to possess. This Proposal seemed more extravagant than
the other, and young as I was, and as much
as I loved, and still do love, I could not think
of gratifying that Love at the Expence of
rendering myself, and the Person so dear to
me, unhappy in every Circumstance in Life
perhaps for ever:――I obliged him, therefore,
to be content with seeing me at a Friend’s
House where we sometimes meet by Stealth,
till Heaven should be pleased to make some Alteration‘teration O1r 103
in our Fate, by turning one, or both
our Parents Hearts. A solemn Promise past, however, between
us, never to listen with an assenting Ear to
any Offers of Marriage that might be made
to either, but preserve, through all Temptations
whatever, both Heart and Hand for
one another. This is now near three Years since, in which
Time several very advantageous Matches have
been proposed to him, all which he has rejected
with a Firmness, which well testifies both
his Honour and his Love. But now, dear Female Spectator, comes the
severest and most shocking Part of my Misfortune:
—It was not enough for my cruel Father
to tear me from the only Man I ever did,
or ever can love:—It was not enough that he
reproached me in the most bitter Terms for
not joining with him in railing against a Person,
who, my Soul knew, merited the most
exalted Praises:—It was not enough to withdraw
all that Fatherly Affection he was accustomed
to treat me with, and for these long
three Years treat me rather as an Alien than
a Child:—All this, I say, was not sufficient,
without entailing a Misery upon me, which
but with my Life I never can be eased of. In a word, Madam, he has provided a Vol. IV O ‘Husband O1v 104
Husband for me, to whom, if I consent not
to be a Wife, am to be turned out of Doors;
without the least present Support, or Hopes of
any even at his Death:—That instead of the
Blessings of a Father, I must receive only
Curses both living and dying: My Heart shudders
while I am writing this, at the dreadful
Remembrance of what he has said to me on
this Occasion; and at the Impossibility there
seems of my any way avoiding doing what
will render me not only wretched to a Degree
beyond what any Words can represent, but
equally wicked by becoming perfidious and ungrateful
to the dear and worthy Object of my
first Vows. Several of our Relations perceiving my
Aversion to this hateful Match, have used their
utmost Interest with my Father not to force
my Inclinations; but he continues inflexible,
and their Sollicitations rather serve to make him
hasten my Misfortune than to ward it off; because
as he says he will not be teized on a Subject
he is determined to persist in. The grand Motive is, that the Person to
whom my ill Stars have rendered me amiable,
desires no Money with me, and has it besides
greatly in his Power to be serviceable to my
Father in his way of Business. These are the merits for which he is preferred:
――These make him in the Eyes of
an avaritious Parent appear a suitable Match; ‘though O2r 105
though to give his Character impartially, and
without any of the Reasons I have for an Aversion,
the most indifferent and disinterested
Person must allow, that his Form is very ungraceful,
that he has the Misfortune of being
lame in one Arm, that his Countenance is sour,
and that he is almost three Times my Age:—
I say nothing of his Humour, because I am not
sufficiently acquainted with it to be a Judge;
but the World does not seem to think very favourably
of it. I do not mention this, Madam, as having
any Sway over my Mind, for were he, instead
of the most disagreeable, the most lovely Man
Heaven ever formed, I should detest him
equally, if attempting to invade that Constancy
I have promised to my first Love. Yet, Wretch that I am, I am upon the
Point of doing what the most false and perfidious
of my Sex could but do:—and in that
Light shall I appear to all who know the Professions
of eternal Love I have made to him
whom I am now about to render miserable for
ever.――My Wedding Cloaths are making,
(wou’d to God it were my winding Sheet) and
I must, in a few Days, be forced into a Bridal
Bed by far more dreadful to me than the Grave. The only Ease under this heavy Affliction I
can enjoy is, in the Hope my Story will influence
you to say something in your perswasive O2 ‘Manner O2v 106
Manner that may have its due Weight with
other Parents, (for I despair of mine being
moved, even with an Angel’s Eloquence:)
Unhappy as I am, I wish not to have any
Sharer in the same Fate, though I am afraid
too many have and will: That the Number
may decrease, however, is the sincere Prayer of, Good Madam,
Your most unfortunate Servant, Monyma. Cheapside,
1745-10-02October2, 1745. P. S. Next Thursday is the Day appointed
for my Doom, if it be possible for me to survive
till then:――Think of me with Compassion,
’tis all can now be done for me.”

Hearts the least sensible of the Woes of
others cannot but be touched with the most tender
Commiseration for Monyma’s Condition,
nor can any reasonable Person seriously reflect on
the Conduct of her Father in this Affair without
passing the severest Censure on it.

Unaccountable is it, as well as unnatural,
that Parents, who in general are fond of their
Children while they are very young, can afterwards
resolve to make them for ever miserable,
only to gratify some sordid Interest of their own.

Most indeed of those who thus force the Inclinationsclinations O3r 107
of their Children, being past all Sense
of the softer Passions themselves, think they
are acting for their Good, while they oblige them
to sacrifice Love to Ambition; but the Father of
this young Lady carry’d his Avarice to a much
higher than one shall ordinarily hear of:――It
seemed not to be so much what the World calls
Interest, for her Sake, as for his own Selfishness
in keeping his Money, that he forced her from a
Man so dear to her, and compelled her to give
herself to another equally hateful.

Detestable Propensity, to what does it
transport us?—Every noble, generous, or humane
Sentiment is dead within us, when once it takes
Possession of the Soul:――Nay, we seem even
abandoned by common Sense, and act not only
in direct Opposition to our Pretences, but likewise
run counter to what we think or desire within
ourselves.

We throw away our Estates, in the vain
Hopes of doubling them:—We forfeit our Honesty
with the View of acquiring Honour:—We
descend to the most contemptible and mean Actions
in the Expectation of becoming great:—In
a word, a Person whose Soul is devoted to Avarice
or false Ambition, is guilty of all manner of
Inconsistencies, and while intending to pursue
good Fortune, blindly pushes away the Goddess
he adores.

There is besides in this Passion, above all others, O3v 108
others, an Obstinancy that so far hardens the
Heart, as to render it impenetrable to all the Assaults
of Nature, as well as inflexible to the Remonstrances
of Reason and Religion.

Justly does our excellent Dryden, in his Play
Amphitrion, make Jupiter say, “――When I made This Gold, I made a greater God than Jove, And gave my own Omnipotence away.”

And the more humorous, though not less
witty Poet, speaking of Gold, tells us, that “Money is still the common Scale Of Things by Measure, Weight, and Tale: Even in th’ Affairs of Church and State, It’s both the Balance, and the Weight. ’Tis Beauty too still in the Flow’r, That buds and blossoms at fourscore: ’Tis Virtue, Wit, and Worth, and all That Men divine and sacred call; For what’s the Worth of any thing, But so much Money as ’twill bring.”

If it were possible for a generous Mind to be
diverted with the Depravities of Human Nature,
how would it make one laugh to see a
Wretch hug himself for his Cunning and perfect
Knowledge of the World, as he imagines, while
perhaps he is the Dupe of those who extol his good O4r 109
good Sense, and a Prey even to the very worst of
Sharpers!

There is not, in fine, a more high Road to
Beggary than Avarice, yet will not the Fate of
Thousands warn others from falling into the same
Snare.――They see a few have had the good
Luck to amass great Sums, and every one fancies
himself capable of managing so as to have the
same Accession.

Wretched Stupidity! Where to one that
succeeds, a thousand are undone.

But to return to the unhappy Monyma.
The Female Spectator sincerely wishes her Case
had been sooner communicated: All Remonstrances
on the one Side, or Advice on the
other, would now come too late, if her Fate was
really decided at the Time she mentions in her
Letter.

Otherwise there is no one Member of our
Club, not even Euphrosine herself, who is the
most perfect Pattern of an implicit Obedience I
ever knew, but is of Opinion, that Monyma, circumstanced
as she was, and under a former Engagement,
might have refused entering into a second
without incurring any just Censure from the
World.

We should not have advised so far indeed as
for her to marry her young Lover; for that would O4v 110
would have been to have flown directly in the
Face of Paternal Authority, and a Breach of Duty
which no Exigence could have rendered excuseable;
but we think, at the same time, that she
might easily have been absolved for persisting in
her Refusal of the other.

By debarring herself from pursuing her Inclination
she would sufficiently have discharged all
that Filial Duty demanded from her; and by continuing
resolute, to suffer any thing rather than
yield herself to one for whom she could have no
Inclination, she would have given a shining Testimony
of Love and Constancy to him who
seems so well to deserve it from her:—Whereas,
by acting in the Manner she has done, she has
not only involved herself, but the Object of her
Affection, in Miseries, which, in all Probability,
will be as lasting as their Lives.

I know very well it may be said, by some over
discreet Persons, that she had no other Course to
take, and doubtless she was of that Opinion herself,
that if her Father had made good his Menace,
and turned her out of Doors, she must
have been exposed to Insults, Reproaches, and
all the Ills that Poverty brings with it.—But I
can scarce think her Condition would have been
so desperate, even had her Father in reality abandoned
her; she has doubtless Relations and
Friends, some of whom certainly have taken
Pity of a young Creature that stood in need of
their Assistance, by no other Crime than her strict Adherence P1r 111
Adherence to Love and Honour; or if, as indeed
there are not many Instances of natural Affection
in this Iron-hearted Age, all Hopes of
this Kind had failed, that Education she confesses
to have had, might certainly have furnished her
with some Means or other of Support.

Neither can we believe, without being uncharitable,
that her Father would not in Time
have relented, at least so far as to take her home
again, if not been brought to consent to the
Terms required of him for her more perfect
Happiness.

But when the indissoluble Union of Marriage
is once formed, how disagreeable soever it may
be at first, it is the Business and the Duty of
each, thus joined, to render themselves, and Partner
for Life, as easy as possible:—All After-Reflections,
――all Struggles, serve only to render
the Misfortune more grievous, and add new
Weights to a Load already but too galling.

We therefore hope Monyma’s good Sense
will enable her to endeavour a Forgetfulness of
every thing that may occasion a Melancholly in
herself, or a Dissatisfaction to her Husband:――
Virtue, Religion, Reputation, Reason, and Interest
all concur to exact it from her; and in fulfilling
their Dictates, she can only expect to find
any true Ease or Consolation.

Vol. IV. P And P1v 112

And this is all we have it in our Power to
offer on her Account.

We shall now present our Readers with a
Piece, which we may justly say is very curious,
since we have received it from one of the best
Judges the present Age affords; though, perhaps,
to avoid the many Compliments might be
made him on the Occasion, he conceals himself
from the Public under a feigned Name.

“To the Female Spectator. Madam, This brings you a Piece of Antiquity,
which, I believe, you will think worthy
a Place in your agreeable Miscellany of beneficial
and entertaining Topics:――It can indeed
be called no other than a Fragment, but
supposed to be wrote by the famous Ovid in
his Banishment:――It certainly has a good
deal of the Stile of that tender Poet, and in the
Original discovers the utmost Purity of the
Latin, as spoken at that Time, which, perhaps,
was the most flourishing Æra for polite Literature
the World has ever yet known. I dare answer you will not think it has lost
much by the Translation, when I shall tell you
it was put into English by Doctor Atterbury,
late Lord Bishop of Rochester, as a certain noble‘ble P2r 113
Earl, from whom I received it, did me the
Honour to assure me. I am, Madam,
With the greatest Respect,
Your very humble,
And most obedient Servant, Antiquarius. 1745-10-29October 29, 1745.
Giles’s Coffee-house,”

Here follow the Papers this obliging Correspondent
has favoured us with, and for which he
has our most grateful Acknowledgments.

“Augustus Cæsar, to Livia Drusilla. Epistle the First. Wonder not, O too lovely Wife of
Tiberius! at receiving an Epistle from
Augustus:—A Power superior to my own, constrains
me to implore from you that Pity and
Protection for which so many Millions are indebted
to me.—The present Situation of my
Heart deprives me of all my former Dignity: I
no longer glory in being Master of the World,
unless I could boast at the same time of being
the Master of your Heart.—I have seen you
most adorable Livia, and if you either know
yourself, or have in the least considered the P2 ‘Con- P2v 114
Confusion of my Looks in that dear fatal Interview,
there is no need to tell you that I
love;—love, with a Passion worthy of your
Charms, and of the Breast that harbours it:—A
Passion such as Livia only can inspire,—Augustus
only feel.—The Inventor of the Brazen
BullOpen note a1-rota Perillus, who was “the Inventor of the Brazen Bull”,
was the first enclosed in it, by Order of Phalaris, a Sicilian
Tyrant. justly experienced those Tortures his
cruel Wit prepared for others; but I, in instituting
an EntertainmentOpen note a2-rota Stage Plays, of which, according to Heylin and other
Authors, he was the first Institutor. which should at once
please and instruct my People, found a Destiny
Open note a3-rota The first Time Augustus saw Livia was at the
Theatre. no less severe than his. It is in your Bosom alone to reverse the Sentence
past on me by that God whose Laws
perhaps I have hitherto too much contemned,
and render me as happy as I now am the contrary.
Think, therefore, think, divinest Livia!
that sometnhing is due to my Sufferings, and
yet much more to my Character, and you will
then do all you can for your Lover, and your
Emperor, Augustus Cæsar. Livia P3r 115 Livia Drusilla, to Augustus Cæsar,
her Lord and Emperor. Epistle the Second. You command me, O mighty Cæsar!
to receive without Surprize the Honour
of your Epistle:――How impossible is it for
me to obey you:—I would fain perswade myself,
that the Race from which I sprung,――
the Innocence of all my Actions,—my Husband’s
Character and Services, and my own
yet unsullied Fame, had set me above these
Pleasantries practised on Women of a different
Stamp; and the Duty I owe my Emperor,
forbids me to believe the little Beauty
Heaven has bestowed upon me capable of making
any serious Impression on a Heart, where
Glory and ScribroniaOpen note a4-rota The Wife of Augustus. claim the sole Dominion.
—When I go about, therefore, to reconcile
this Declaration, either with your Character or
mine, I am equally at a Loss; and the more
I consider what you are, or what I am, the more
I become confounded:—O then, most sacred
Sir, have Pity on my Weakness, and cease to
perplex, with vain Ideas, a Mind, which has
hitherto found its Felicity in Content, and
wishes no more than to preserve a due Medium
between the two Extremes of Ambition, and a
too abject Humility. Livia Drusilla. Augustus P3v 116 Augustus Cæsar, to Livia Drusilla. Epistle the Third. Is it then possible that you, whom it most
concerns, should be blind to the Symptoms
of a Passion, which all my Care cannot conceal
from the Observation of my whole Court:
—Marcellus,— Aggrippa,— Mecænas,— Drusus,
all see their Emperor is not what he was;――
Can Livia alone want Penetration?—No, no,
fair Hypocrite! those Eyes that pierced my
Soul must look through it at the same Time:
You are not less sensible of the Havock made
by your Charms, than I am of the Force of
them; and but counterfeit an Ignorance of
those Ills you are determined not to pity:—
I flattered myself, however, that you would
have made some Difference between me and
other Men, and have answered with the same
Plainness and Sincerity I wrote.――Remember,
Livia, that I am Augustus, and in that
Name have a Right to expect Obedience from
even you; and if I lay aside the Auuthority of
my Place, the Requests I make, ought, notwithstanding,
to have all the Force of Commands:
I shall, however, exact no more from you than
the Confession of a Truth, which you cannot
but be assured of, not only from a Consciousness
of your own Charms, but from the Professions
of him, who would ill become the Dignity
he wears, could he be capable of Deceit; ‘and P4r 117
and in the next Place, that you will seriously
examine your own Heart, and let me know
what Recompence you think is owing to the
Sentiments you have inspired in mine. Augustus Cæsar. Livia Drusilla, to Augustus Cæsar,
her Lord and Emperor. Epistle the Fourth. Since then my Emperor insists I should
look upon myself as something worthy
his Regard, I dare no longer presume to doubt
the Honour he confers upon me; and it is,
perhaps, not the least among the many Wonders
of his Power, that it obliges me to break
through all those Rules of Modesty and Humility
I have hitherto observed, and not only
acknowledge, that I think on the Consideration
he vouchsafes to have for me, as the supremest
Glory a Mortal can receive, but likewise,
that I feel a Pleasure in the Conviction,
which no Words are able to express:――Yes,
mighty Cæsar, as the Belief of your Affection
spreads itself through my Imagination, my
whole Soul enlarges to entertain the rapturous
Idea:――That Beauty, which before I thought
but meanly of, is now conspicuous to myself,
and I bless Nature for those Charms which are
happy enough to please the Master of the
World:――Does then my Imperial Lord demand‘mand P4v 118
what Recompence is due to me for so
immense a Condescension?――Sure there can
be nothing I either ought or would refuse!――
Shall not the Love and Duty owing from every
Subject be ever paid by me, accompanied with
a Warmth and Zeal proportioned to the Vastness
of my Obligation?――Shall I ever bend
my Knees, or lift my Eyes to Heaven, without
invoking every God for endless Blessings on
your Life and Reign?――Shall not my Hopes,
my Fears, my Wishes, my Devotions, be all
centered in Augustus?――Will not that sacred
Name be ever in my Lips, and dwell within
my Heart?――These, indeed, are but small
Demonstrations of that Gratitude which swells
my Bosom; but, alas! they are all Fate puts
it in my Power to give, and therefore will, I
hope, be acceptable from Livia Drusilla. Augustus Cæsar, to Livia Drusilla. Epistle the Fifth. When I compare the former Part of
your Epistle with the latter, I find an
Inconsistency between them, which I am wholly
at a Loss to reconcile, and is far from that
Plainness and Sincerity I both desired and expected
from Livia.—If to be beloved by me
affords you any real Pleasure, would you be so
selfish as to engross it all, and leave me nothing but Q1r 119
but the Pains of an ever-longing, ever-hopeless
Passion?—And do you call it Gratitude to turn
me over to other Hands for that Recompence
I ought to receive from your own?—What
Occasion have you, O beautiful Livia! to
trouble the Gods with Petitions for me, when
they have consigned to you the sole Power of
making me happy?—No, sweet Evader, no;
such Orizons would be a Mockery both of
Heaven and me:—I ask no more than what
you can bestow; and if, as you say, you neither
ought or can refuse me any thing, why are
my Joys immediately after bounded to the
Half of what I aim to obtain,—and that too,
I fear, but in Imagination only: For had I that
Influence in your Soul you seem to flatter me
with, sure I am it would work too powerfully
on the lovely Body to leave me long unblest:
In fine, my Livia, the Passion I have for you
is not of that airy Nature to be fed with Shadows:
――I must possess you all; for if you
know your Emperor, you also know it is not
with imperfect Conquests he is accustomed to
content himself. Augustus Cæsar. Vol. IV. Q Livia Q1v 120 Livia Drusilla, to Augustus Cæsar,
her Lord and Emperor. Epistle the Sixth. Why, O cruel Cæsar! if it may
be permitted me to refuse my Emperor,
why do you take delight in reducing
your Slave to a Dilemma, from which she
sees no way to extricate herself!—Augustus
was not wont to tax his Subjects beyond their
Power:—O wherefore does he from Livia
alone demand Impossibilities?—My Soul and
all its Faculties are wholly devoted to my
Emperor; what else remains of me is the Property
of another:—Am I not the Wife of
Tiberius?—Can I call back the Time that
made me his?—Or will that Breath return,
with which I swore inviolable Love, inviolable
Duty!—Are not my Vows register’d in
the Lap of Juno?—Open note a5-rota The Goddess of Marriage. And does not the sacred
TabullaOpen note a6-rota A Scroll of Parchment in which all Marriages of
Note were recorded. bear witness of them?—O
well does my Lord and Emperor know,
that there is nothing left for me to bestow,
and all I can do is to lament in secret my Incapacity
of receiving an Honour, which would
otherwise have rendered me the most happy,
as well as most envyed of my Sex. Livia Drusilla. Augustus Q2r 121 Augustus Cæsar, to Livia Drusilla. Epistle the Seventh. Tis well, fair Creature, ’tis well:――The
Fire of Cæsar then is to be combated by
the Frost of Livia:—You are resolved to hold
yourself with all the Weapons your icy Virtue
can supply you with.—But do you not remember,
that the God under whose Banners I am
listed, is invincible?—You have indeed subdued
Augustus, but cannot the Deity which animates
him.—Cease, therefore, so unequal a War, and
be convinced that to yield in this Cause will
be your greatest Glory.—The Proconsul of
Gallia is indeed your Husband, but he is sensible
of what is owing to his Emperor, and
if you reflect seriously on what Cæsar is, you will
confess he has the Power to dispense with Forms. Mæcenas, who is the Bearer of this,
will tell you more than Time now permits
me to write, and has my Commands not to
leave you till you have assured him you will
favour, with your Presence, an Open note a7-rota History informs us, this was the most splendid one was
ever seen:――There were a thousand Barges, gilt, illuminated
with Lamps, and magnificently adorned with
Streamers, on which were many curious Devices, representing
the Power of Love and Beauty:—All the great
Persons at that Time in Rome were present at it, the Feast
lasted the whole Night,—Musick playing all the while,
from the Banks of the River. Entertainmentment Q2v 122
I have prepared on the Tiber, in Honour
of the Day that gave you to the World,
for a Blessing to all Beholders Eyes, but
most to Augustus Cæsar.”

This it seems was the whole of what the noble
Earl put into the Hands of Antiquarius, or
at least all he has obliged us with:—The World
is too well acquainted with the History of those
illustrious Lovers for us to add any thing on the
Subject; neither is there any Occasion for giving
our Opinion on the Elegance and Spirit of the
Letters:—All our Readers of Taste must be
charmed with the Love and Dignity which those
of Augustus testify, and confess that those of
Livia are perfectly agreeable to the Character of
that Lady, artful and polite.

It is not to be doubted, but that many of our
Readers would have been glad to have had a
farther Continuance of the Correspondence between
two Persons, who make so considerable a
Figure in the Roman History, and to have seen
by what Arts Livia, after being the Mistress of
Augustus, prevailed on him to repudiate Scribonia,
to whom he had been married several Years,
and not only to seat her on the Imperial Throne,
but also, perceiving he was not likely to have
any Children by her, to adopt the young Tiberius,rius, Q3r 123
a Son she had by her Husband, to be his
Successor, in Prejudice of his own and more worthy
Kindred,.

Others, on the contrary, may think it better
I had suppressed the whole Piece:—They
will say, perhaps, that when an unwarrantable
Aim happens to be crowned with Success, the
whole Event ought rather to be concealed than
published, lest it should give Encouragement to
others to attempt the like, and that above all
Things the Female Spectator, who sets up for a
Regulator of her Sex’s Conduct, should not have
exhibited a Character so fortunately vicious as
was that of this Roman Empress.

There are Men (will they say) who may pretend
as violent a Passion as Augustus, without
feeling it, or having any Share of his Sincerity;
and it is not to be contradicted, but that there are
Women who may imagine their Charms of no
less Force to retain a Heart they are desirous of
engaging, than those of Livia could possibly be:
—And then, will they cry, how little Likelihood
is there that any Considerations, when prompted
either by Love or Ambition, will deter them
from taking the same Steps she did?

I heartily wish, indeed, that the Vanity
which, I confess, is but too inherent to our Sex,
did not give some Countenance to an Objection
of this Nature; for though one should tell a young Q3v 124
young Lady never so often, that her favoured
Lover had not all the real Tenderness, Esteem
for her, and Constancy of Augustus, or that her
own Beauty, Wit, and Capacity in every Point
fell short of what Livia was possessed of, it
would be scarce possible to convince her of a
Truth so displeasing to those two favourite and
indulged Passions of the Soul.

History, however, must not be silenced,
because Matters of Fact, which ought not to be
imitated, are therein related; nor should the
elegant Part of Mankind be deprived of so agreeable
an Entertainment as the Writings of the Ancients
afford, because some of them have introduced
Characters we could wish had never been
in the World.

A Woman, whose Heart is truly guarded by
Virtue and Religion, will never suffer a vicious
Example to have any Influence over her; and
she who thrusts from her those divine Assistants,
need not be told there was a Livia, that prospered
and grew great by yielding to an unlawful
Flame.

When these are once gone, a small Temptation,
alas! suffices; as our inimitable Shakespear
truly says, “――As Virtue never will be mov’d, Tho’ Lewdness court it in the shape of Heav’n; So Q4r 125 So Lust, tho’ to a radiant Angel join’d, Will fly the Charms of a celestial Bed, And prey on Garbage.”

It would be a happy Thing if there were no
Presidents of a much later Date than those of Augustus
and Livia, to justify the Frailties of both
Sexes:――Theirs, I hope, will be of no ill Consequence
to the present Age; and as the Virtues
of the old Romans are pretty much exploded
on the Account of their being old-fashioned,
their Vices sure will be rejected for the same, if
no other, Reason.

Among our Letters we find one from a former
Correspondent, on the present Hurry of the
Times; but as impatient as he seems for some
Notice to be taken of it, we must beg to be excused
till the Order of the Date becomes conformable
to our Rules; and then, notwithstanding
the Aversion we have for meddling with Politics,
he may depend on their being inserted, with
also some Remarks of our own on what he has
advanced.

Lindamira too may expect the same
Indulgence, though I know not whether, all
Things considered, her Letter merits that Proof
of our Complaisance; but we shall always submit
private Pique to public Service.

There- Q4v 126

Therefore, as the Matter which has employed
her Pen may be of Use to some, as doubtless
some there are under the same Circumstances,
though I hope not many, her Sentiments on the
Occasion shall not fail of having a Place at a
convenient Time: As for the Accusations she has
been pleased to throw out against the Female
Spectator, it is our Business to answer them as
well as we can, and leave the Decision to that
awful Tribunal the Public.

End of the Twentieth Book.