The Spectator
Chapter 146 : and so on, till there remained only the initial A. His word was taken, and this use of

and so on, till there remained only the initial A. His word was taken, and this use of the charm was popular even in the Spectators time. It is described by Defoe in his History of the Plague.]

[Footnote 4: The number Four was called Tetractys by the Pythagoreans, who accounted it the most powerful of numbers, because it was the foundation of them all, and as a square it signified solidity. They said it was at the source of Nature, four elements, four seasons, &c., to which later speculators added the four rivers of Paradise, four evangelists, and a.s.sociation of the number four with G.o.d, whose name was a mystical Tetra grammaton, Jod, He, Vau, He.]

[Footnote 5: Where it is explained that Adam meaning Man; Seth, placed; and Enosh, Misery: the mystic inference is that Man was placed in Misery.]

No. 222. Wednesday, November 14, 1711. Steele.

Cur alter fratrum cessare, et ludere, et ungi, Praeferat Herodis palmetis pinguibus

Hor.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

There is one thing I have often look'd for in your Papers, and have as often wondered to find my self disappointed; the rather, because I think it a Subject every way agreeable to your Design, and by being left unattempted by others, seems reserved as a proper Employment for you; I mean a Disquisition, from whence it proceeds, that Men of the brightest Parts, and most comprehensive Genius, compleatly furnished with Talents for any Province in humane Affairs; such as by their wise Lessons of Oeconomy to others have made it evident, that they have the justest Notions of Life and of true Sense in the Conduct of it--: from what unhappy contradictious Cause it proceeds, that Persons thus finished by Nature and by Art, should so often fail in the Management of that which they so well understand, and want the Address to make a right Application of their own Rules. This is certainly a prodigious Inconsistency in Behaviour, and makes much such a Figure in Morals as a monstrous Birth in Naturals, with this Difference only, which greatly aggravates the Wonder, that it happens much more frequently; and what a Blemish does it cast upon Wit and Learning in the general Account of the World? And in how disadvantageous a Light does it expose them to the busy Cla.s.s of Mankind, that there should be so many Instances of Persons who have so conducted their Lives in spite of these transcendent Advantages, as neither to be happy in themselves, nor useful to their Friends; when every Body sees it was entirely in their own Power to be eminent in both these Characters? For my part, I think there is no Reflection more astonis.h.i.+ng, than to consider one of these Gentlemen spending a fair Fortune, running in every Body's Debt without the least Apprehension of a future Reckoning, and at last leaving not only his own Children, but possibly those of other People, by his Means, in starving Circ.u.mstances; while a Fellow, whom one would scarce suspect to have a humane Soul, shall perhaps raise a vast Estate out of Nothing, and be the Founder of a Family capable of being very considerable in their Country, and doing many ill.u.s.trious Services to it. That this Observation is just, Experience has put beyond all Dispute. But though the Fact be so evident and glaring, yet the Causes of it are still in the Dark; which makes me persuade my self, that it would be no unacceptable Piece of Entertainment to the Town, to inquire into the hidden Sources of so unaccountable an Evil.

_I am, SIR, Your most Humble Servant_.

What this Correspondent wonders at, has been Matter of Admiration ever since there was any such thing as humane Life. _Horace_ reflects upon this Inconsistency very agreeably in the Character of _Tigellius_, whom he makes a mighty Pretender to Oeconomy, and tells you, you might one Day hear him speak the most philosophick Things imaginable concerning being contented with a little, and his Contempt of every thing but mere Necessaries, and in Half a Week after spend a thousand Pound. When he says this of him with Relation to Expence, he describes him as unequal to himself in every other Circ.u.mstance of Life. And indeed, if we consider lavish Men carefully, we shall find it always proceeds from a certain Incapacity of possessing themselves, and finding Enjoyment in their own Minds. Mr. _Dryden_ has expressed this very excellently in the Character of _Zimri_. [1]

A Man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all Mankind's Epitome.

Stiff in Opinion, always in the Wrong, Was every Thing by Starts, and Nothing long; But in the Course of one revolving Moon, Was Chymist, Fidler, Statesman, and Buffoon.

Then all for Women, Painting, Rhiming, Drinking, Besides ten thousand Freaks that died in thinking; Blest Madman, who could every Hour employ In something new to wish or to enjoy!

In squandering Wealth was his peculiar Art, Nothing went unrewarded but Desert.

This loose State of the Soul hurries the Extravagant from one Pursuit to another; and the Reason that his Expences are greater than anothers, is, that his Wants are also more numerous. But what makes so many go on in this Way to their Lives End, is, that they certainly do not know how contemptible they are in the Eyes of the rest of Mankind, or rather, that indeed they are not so contemptible as they deserve. _Tully_ says, it is the greatest of Wickedness to lessen your paternal Estate. And if a Man would thoroughly consider how much worse than Banishment it must be to his Child, to ride by the Estate which should have been his had it not been for his Fathers Injustice to him, he would be smitten with the Reflection more deeply than can be understood by any but one who is a Father. Sure there can be nothing more afflicting than to think it had been happier for his Son to have been born of any other Man living than himself.

It is not perhaps much thought of, but it is certainly a very important Lesson, to learn how to enjoy ordinary Life, and to be able to relish your Being without the Transport of some Pa.s.sion or Gratification of some Appet.i.te. For want of this Capacity, the World is filled with Whetters, Tipplers, Cutters, Sippers, and all the numerous Train of those who, for want of Thinking, are forced to be ever exercising their Feeling or Tasting. It would be hard on this Occasion to mention the harmless Smoakers of Tobacco and Takers of Snuff.

The slower Part of Mankind, whom my Correspondent wonders should get Estates, are the more immediately formed for that Pursuit: They can expect distant things without Impatience, because they are not carried out of their Way either by violent Pa.s.sion or keen Appet.i.te to any thing. To Men addicted to Delight[s], Business is an Interruption; to such as are cold to Delights, Business is an Entertainment. For which Reason it was said to one who commended a dull Man for his Application,

_No Thanks to him; if he had no Business, he would have nothing to do._

T.

[Footnote 1: i.e. The Duke of Buckingham, in Part I. of 'Absalom and Achitophel'.]

No. 223. Thursday, Nov. 15, 1711. Addison.

O suavis Anima! qualem te dicam bonam Antehac fuisse, tales c.u.m sint reliquiae!

Phaed.

When I reflect upon the various Fate of those Mult.i.tudes of Ancient Writers who flourished in _Greece_ and _Italy_, I consider Time as an Immense Ocean, in which many n.o.ble Authors are entirely swallowed up, many very much shattered and damaged, some quite disjointed and broken into pieces, while some have wholly escaped the Common Wreck; but the Number of the last is very small.

_Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto_.

Among the mutilated Poets of Antiquity, there is none whose Fragments are so beautiful as those of _Sappho_. They give us a Taste of her Way of Writing, which is perfectly conformable with that extraordinary Character we find of her, in the Remarks of those great Criticks who were conversant with her Works when they were entire. One may see by what is left of them, that she followed Nature in all her Thoughts, without descending to those little Points, Conceits, and Turns of Wit with which many of our modern Lyricks are so miserably infected. Her Soul seems to have been made up of Love and Poetry; She felt the Pa.s.sion in all its Warmth, and described it in all its Symptoms. She is called by ancient Authors the Tenth Muse; and by _Plutarch_ is compared to _Cacus_ the Son of _Vulcan_, who breathed out nothing but Flame. I do not know, by the Character that is given of her Works, whether it is not for the Benefit of Mankind that they are lost. They were filled with such bewitching Tenderness and Rapture, that it might have been dangerous to have given them a Reading.

An Inconstant Lover, called _Phaon_, occasioned great Calamities to this Poetical Lady. She fell desperately in Love with him, and took a Voyage into _Sicily_ in Pursuit of him, he having withdrawn himself thither on purpose to avoid her. It was in that Island, and on this Occasion, she is supposed to have made the Hymn to _Venus_, with a Translation of which I shall present my Reader. Her Hymn was ineffectual for the procuring that Happiness which she prayed for in it. _Phaon_ was still obdurate, and _Sappho_ so transported with the Violence of her Pa.s.sion, that she was resolved to get rid of it at any Price.

There was a Promontory in _Acarnania_ called _Leucrate_ [1] on the Top of which was a little Temple dedicated to Apollo. In this Temple it was usual for _despairing_ Lovers to make their Vows in secret, and afterwards to fling themselves from the Top of the Precipice into the Sea, where they were sometimes taken up alive. This Place was therefore called, _The Lovers Leap_; and whether or no the Fright they had been in, or the Resolution that could push them to so dreadful a Remedy, or the Bruises which they often received in their Fall, banished all the tender Sentiments of Love, and gave their Spirits another Turn; those who had taken this Leap were observed never to relapse into that Pa.s.sion. _Sappho_ tried the Cure, but perished in the Experiment.

After having given this short Account of _Sappho_ so far as it regards the following Ode, I shall subjoin the Translation of it as it was sent me by a Friend, whose admirable Pastorals and _Winter-Piece_ have been already so well received. [2] The Reader will find in it that Pathetick Simplicity which is so peculiar to him, and so suitable to the Ode he has here Translated. This Ode in the Greek (besides those Beauties observed by Madam _Dacier_) has several harmonious Turns in the Words, which are not lost in the _English_. I must farther add, that the Translation has preserved every Image and Sentiment of _Sappho_, notwithstanding it has all the Ease and Spirit of an Original. In a Word, if the Ladies have a mind to know the Manner of Writing practised by the so much celebrated _Sappho_, they may here see it in its genuine and natural Beauty, without any foreign or affected Ornaments.

An HYMN to VENUS.

I. _O_ Venus, _Beauty of the Skies, To whom a Thousand Temples rise, Gayly false in gentle Smiles, Full of Loves perplexing Wiles; O G.o.ddess! from my Heart remove The wasting Cares and Pains of Love_.

II. _If ever thou hast kindly heard A Song in soft Distress preferr'd, Propitious to my tuneful Vow, O gentle G.o.ddess! hear me now.

Descend, thou bright, immortal Guest, In all thy radiant Charms confest_.

III. _Thou once didst leave Almighty Jove, And all the Golden Roofs above: The Carr thy wanton Sparrows drew; Hovring in Air they lightly flew, As to my Bower they wing'd their Way: I saw their quivring Pinions play_.