The Spectator
Chapter 83 : No. 115. Thursday, July 12, 1711. Addison.'... Ut sit Mens sana in Corpore sano.&#

No. 115. Thursday, July 12, 1711. Addison.

'... Ut sit Mens sana in Corpore sano.'

Juv.

Bodily Labour is of two Kinds, either that which a Man submits to for his Livelihood, or that which he undergoes for his Pleasure. The latter of them generally changes the Name of Labour for that of Exercise, but differs only from ordinary Labour as it rises from another Motive.

A Country Life abounds in both these kinds of Labour, and for that Reason gives a Man a greater Stock of Health, and consequently a more perfect Enjoyment of himself, than any other Way of Life. I consider the Body as a System of Tubes and Glands, or to use a more Rustick Phrase, a Bundle of Pipes and Strainers, fitted to one another after so wonderful a Manner as to make a proper Engine for the Soul to work with. This Description does not only comprehend the Bowels, Bones, Tendons, Veins, Nerves and Arteries, but every Muscle and every Ligature, which is a Composition of Fibres, that are so many imperceptible Tubes or Pipes interwoven on all sides with invisible Glands or Strainers.

This general Idea of a Human Body, without considering it in its Niceties of Anatomy, lets us see how absolutely necessary Labour is for the right Preservation of it. There must be frequent Motions and Agitations, to mix, digest, and separate the Juices contained in it, as well as to clear and cleanse that Infinitude of Pipes and Strainers of which it is composed, and to give their solid Parts a more firm and lasting Tone. Labour or Exercise ferments the Humours, casts them into their proper Channels, throws off Redundancies, and helps Nature in those secret Distributions, without which the Body cannot subsist in its Vigour, nor the Soul act with Chearfulness.

I might here mention the Effects which this has upon all the Faculties of the Mind, by keeping the Understanding clear, the Imagination untroubled, and refining those Spirits that are necessary for the proper Exertion of our intellectual Faculties, during the present Laws of Union between Soul and Body. It is to a Neglect in this Particular that we must ascribe the Spleen, which is so frequent in Men of studious and sedentary Tempers, as well as the Vapours to which those of the other s.e.x are so often subject.

Had not Exercise been absolutely necessary for our Well-being, Nature would not have made the Body so proper for it, by giving such an Activity to the Limbs, and such a Pliancy to every Part as necessarily produce those Compressions, Extentions, Contortions, Dilatations, and all other kinds of [Motions [1]] that are necessary for the Preservation of such a System of Tubes and Glands as has been before mentioned. And that we might not want Inducements to engage us in such an Exercise of the Body as is proper for its Welfare, it is so ordered that nothing valuable can be procured without it. Not to mention Riches and Honour, even Food and Raiment are not to be come at without the Toil of the Hands and Sweat of the Brows. Providence furnishes Materials, but expects that we should work them up our selves. The Earth must be laboured before it gives its Encrease, and when it is forced into its several Products, how many Hands must they pa.s.s through before they are fit for Use? Manufactures, Trade, and Agriculture, naturally employ more than nineteen Parts of the Species in twenty; and as for those who are not obliged to Labour, by the Condition in which they are born, they are more miserable than the rest of Mankind, unless they indulge themselves in that voluntary Labour which goes by the Name of Exercise.

My Friend Sir ROGER has been an indefatigable Man in Business of this kind, and has hung several Parts of his House with the Trophies of his former Labours. The Walls of his great Hall are covered with the Horns of several kinds of Deer that he has killed in the Chace, which he thinks the most valuable Furniture of his House, as they afford him frequent Topicks of Discourse, and shew that he has not been Idle. At the lower End of the Hall, is a large Otter's Skin stuffed with Hay, which his Mother ordered to be hung up in that manner, and the Knight looks upon with great Satisfaction, because it seems he was but nine Years old when his Dog killed him. A little Room adjoining to the Hall is a kind of a.r.s.enal filled with Guns of several Sizes and Inventions, with which the Knight has made great Havock in the Woods, and destroyed many thousands of Pheasants, Partridges and Wood-c.o.c.ks. His Stable Doors are patched with Noses that belonged to Foxes of the Knight's own hunting down. Sir ROGER shewed me one of them that for Distinction sake has a Bra.s.s Nail struck through it, which cost him about fifteen Hours riding, carried him through half a dozen Counties, killed him a Brace of Geldings, and lost above half his Dogs. This the Knight looks upon as one of the greatest Exploits of his Life. The perverse Widow, whom I have given some Account of, was the Death of several Foxes; for Sir ROGER has told me that in the Course of his Amours he patched the Western Door of his Stable. Whenever the Widow was cruel, the Foxes were sure to pay for it. In proportion as his Pa.s.sion for the Widow abated and old Age came on, he left off Fox-hunting; but a Hare is not yet safe that Sits within ten Miles of his House.

There is no kind of Exercise which I would so recommend to my Readers of both s.e.xes as this of Riding, as there is none which so much conduces to Health, and is every way accommodated to the Body, according to the _Idea_ which I have given of it. Doctor _Sydenham_ is very lavish in its Praises; and if the _English_ Reader will see the Mechanical Effects of it describ'd at length, he may find them in a Book published not many Years since, under the t.i.tle of _Medicina Gymnastica_ [2]. For my own part, when I am in Town, for want of these Opportunities, I exercise myself an Hour every Morning upon a dumb Bell that is placed in a Corner of my Room, and pleases me the more because it does every thing I require of it in the most profound Silence. My Landlady and her Daughters are so well acquainted with my Hours of Exercise, that they never come into my Room to disturb me whilst I am ringing.

When I was some Years younger than I am at present, I used to employ myself in a more laborious Diversion, which I learned from a _Latin_ Treatise of Exercises that is written with great Erudition: [3] It is there called the _skiomachia_, or the fighting with a Man's own Shadow, and consists in the brandis.h.i.+ng of two short Sticks grasped in each Hand, and loaden with Plugs of Lead at either End. This opens the Chest, exercises the Limbs, and gives a Man all the Pleasure of Boxing, without the Blows. I could wish that several Learned Men would lay out that Time which they employ in Controversies and Disputes about nothing, in this Method of fighting with their own Shadows. It might conduce very much to evaporate the Spleen, which makes them uneasy to the Publick as well as to themselves.

To conclude, As I am a Compound of Soul and Body, I consider myself as obliged to a double Scheme of Duties; and I think I have not fulfilled the Business of the Day when I do not thus employ the one in Labour and Exercise, as well as the other in Study and Contemplation.

L.

[Footnote 1: Motion]

[Footnote 2: 'Medicina Gymnastica, or, a Treatise concerning the Power of Exercise'. By Francis Fuller, M.A.]

[Footnote 3: 'Artis Gymnasticae apud Antiquos ...' Libri VI. (Venice, 1569). By Hieronymus Mercurialis, who died at Forli, in 1606. He speaks of the shadow-fighting in Lib. iv. cap. 5, and Lib. v. cap. 2.]

No. 116. Friday, July 13, 1711. Budgell.

'... Vocat ingenti clamore Cith.o.e.ron, Taygetique canes ...'

Virg.

Those who have searched into human Nature observe that nothing so much shews the n.o.bleness of the Soul, as that its Felicity consists in Action. Every Man has such an active Principle in him, that he will find out something to employ himself upon in whatever Place or State of Life he is posted. I have heard of a Gentleman who was under close Confinement in the _Bastile_ seven Years; during which Time he amused himself in scattering a few small Pins about his Chamber, gathering them up again, and placing them in different Figures on the Arm of a great Chair. He often told his Friends afterwards, that unless he had found out this Piece of Exercise, he verily believed he should have lost his Senses.

After what has been said, I need not inform my Readers, that Sir ROGER, with whose Character I hope they are at present pretty well acquainted, has in his Youth gone through the whole Course of those rural Diversions which the Country abounds in; and which seem to be extreamly well suited to that laborious Industry a Man may observe here in a far greater Degree than in Towns and Cities. I have before hinted at some of my Friend's Exploits: He has in his youthful Days taken forty Coveys of Partridges in a Season; and tired many a Salmon with a Line consisting but of a single Hair. The constant Thanks and good Wishes of the Neighbourhood always attended him, on account of his remarkable Enmity towards Foxes; having destroyed more of those Vermin in one Year, than it was thought the whole Country could have produced. Indeed the Knight does not scruple to own among his most intimate Friends that in order to establish his Reputation this Way, he has secretly sent for great Numbers of them out of other Counties, which he used to turn loose about the Country by Night, that he might the better signalize himself in their Destruction the next Day. His Hunting-Horses were the finest and best managed in all these Parts: His Tenants are still full of the Praises of a grey Stone-horse that unhappily staked himself several Years since, and was buried with great Solemnity in the Orchard.

Sir _Roger_, being at present too old for Fox-hunting, to keep himself in Action, has disposed of his Beagles and got a Pack of _Stop-Hounds_.

What these want in Speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the Deepness of their Mouths and the Variety of their Notes, which are suited in such manner to each other, that the whole Cry makes up a compleat Consort. [1] He is so nice in this Particular that a Gentleman having made him a Present of a very fine Hound the other Day, the Knight returned it by the Servant with a great many Expressions of Civility; but desired him to tell his Master, that the Dog he had sent was indeed a most excellent _Base_, but that at present he only wanted a _Counter-Tenor_. Could I believe my Friend had ever read _Shakespear_, I should certainly conclude he had taken the Hint from _Theseus_ in the _Midsummer Night's Dream_. [2]

_My Hounds are bred out of the_ Spartan _Kind, So flu'd, so sanded; and their Heads are hung With Ears that sweep away the Morning Dew.

Crook-knee'd and dew-lap'd like_ Thessalian _Bulls; Slow in Pursuit, but match'd in Mouths like Bells, Each under each: A Cry more tuneable Was never hallowed to, nor chear'd with Horn._

Sir _Roger_ is so keen at this Sport, that he has been out almost every Day since I came down; and upon the Chaplain's offering to lend me his easy Pad, I was prevailed on Yesterday Morning to make one of the Company. I was extremely pleased, as we rid along, to observe the general Benevolence of all the Neighbourhood towards my Friend. The Farmers Sons thought themselves happy if they could open a Gate for the good old Knight as he pa.s.sed by; which he generally requited with a Nod or a Smile, and a kind Enquiry after their Fathers and Uncles.

After we had rid about a Mile from Home, we came upon a large Heath, and the Sports-men began to beat. They had done so for some time, when, as I was at a little Distance from the rest of the Company, I saw a Hare pop out from a small Furze-brake almost under my Horse's Feet. I marked the Way she took, which I endeavoured to make the Company sensible of by extending my Arm; but to no purpose, 'till Sir ROGER, who knows that none of my extraordinary Motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me _if Puss was gone that Way?_ Upon my answering _Yes_, he immediately called in the Dogs, and put them upon the Scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the Country-Fellows muttering to his Companion, _That 'twas a Wonder they had not lost all their Sport, for want of the silent Gentleman's crying STOLE AWAY._

This, with my Aversion to leaping Hedges, made me withdraw to a rising Ground, from whence I could have the Picture of the whole Chace, without the Fatigue of keeping in with the Hounds. The Hare immediately threw them above a Mile behind her; but I was pleased to find, that instead of running straight forwards, or in Hunter's Language, _Flying the Country_, as I was afraid she might have done, she wheel'd about, and described a sort of Circle round the Hill where I had taken my Station, in such manner as gave me a very distinct View of the Sport. I could see her first pa.s.s by, and the Dogs some time afterwards unravelling the whole Track she had made, and following her thro' all her Doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observing that Deference which the rest of the Pack paid to each particular Hound, according to the Character he had acquired amongst them: If they were at Fault, and an old Hound of Reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole Cry; while a raw Dog or one who was a noted _Liar_, might have yelped his Heart out, without being taken Notice of.

The Hare now, after having squatted two or three Times, and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the Place where she was at first started. The Dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly Knight, who rode upon a white Gelding, encompa.s.sed by his Tenants and Servants, and chearing his Hounds with all the Gaiety of Five and Twenty. One of the Sportsmen rode up to me, and told me, that he was sure the Chace was almost at an End, because the old Dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the Pack. The Fellow was in the right.

Our Hare took a large Field just under us, followed by the full Cry _in View_. I must confess the Brightness of the Weather, the Chearfulness of everything around me, the _Chiding_ of the Hounds, which was returned upon us in a double Eccho, from two neighbouring Hills, with the Hallowing of the Sportsmen, and the Sounding of the Horn, lifted my Spirits into a most lively Pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure it was _innocent_. If I was under any Concern, it was on the Account of the poor Hare, that was now quite spent, and almost within the Reach of her Enemies; when the Huntsman getting forward threw down his Pole before the Dogs. They were now within eight Yards of that Game which they had been pursuing for almost as many Hours; yet on the Signal before-mentioned they all made a sudden Stand, and tho' they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pa.s.s beyond the Pole. At the same time Sir ROGER rode forward, and alighting, took up the Hare in his Arms; which he soon delivered up to one of his Servants with an Order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his great Orchard; where it seems he has several of these Prisoners of War, who live together in a very comfortable Captivity. I was highly pleased to see the Discipline of the Pack, and the Good-nature of the Knight, who could not find in his heart to murther a Creature that had given him so much Diversion.

As we were returning home, I remembred that Monsieur _Paschal_ in his most excellent Discourse on _the Misery of Man_, tells us, That _all our Endeavours after Greatness proceed from nothing but a Desire of being surrounded by a Mult.i.tude of Persons and Affairs that may hinder us from looking into our selves, which is a View we cannot bear_. He afterwards goes on to shew that our Love of Sports comes from the same Reason, and is particularly severe upon HUNTING, _What_, says he, _unless it be to drown Thought, can make Men throw away so much Time and Pains upon a silly Animal, which they might buy cheaper in the Market_? The foregoing Reflection is certainly just, when a Man suffers his whole Mind to be drawn into his Sports, and altogether loses himself in the Woods; but does not affect those who propose a far more laudable End from this Exercise, I mean, _The Preservation of Health, and keeping all the Organs of the Soul in a Condition to execute her Orders_. Had that incomparable Person, whom I last quoted, been a little more indulgent to himself in this Point, the World might probably have enjoyed him much longer; whereas thro' too great an Application to his Studies in his Youth, he contracted that ill Habit of Body, which, after a tedious Sickness, carried him oft in the fortieth Year of his Age; [3] and the whole History we have of his Life till that Time, is but one continued Account of the behaviour of a n.o.ble Soul struggling under innumerable Pains and Distempers.

For my own part I intend to Hunt twice a Week during my Stay with Sir ROGER; and shall prescribe the moderate use of this Exercise to all my Country Friends, as the best kind of Physick for mending a bad Const.i.tution, and preserving a good one.

I cannot do this better, than in the following Lines out of Mr.

_Dryden_ [4].

_The first Physicians by Debauch were made; Excess began, and Sloth sustains the Trade.

By Chace our long-liv'd Fathers earn'd their Food; Toil strung the Nerves, and purify'd the Blood; But we their Sons, a pamper'd Race of Men, Are dwindled down to threescore Years and ten.

Better to hunt in Fields for Health unbought, Than fee the Doctor for a nauseous Draught.

The Wise for Cure on Exercise depend: G.o.d never made his Work for Man to mend._

[Footnote 1: As to dogs, the difference is great between a hunt now and a hunt in the 'Spectator's' time. Since the early years of the last century the modern foxhound has come into existence, while the beagle and the deep-flewed southern hare-hound, nearly resembling the bloodhound, with its sonorous note, has become almost extinct.

Absolutely extinct also is the old care to attune the voices of a pack.

Henry II, in his breeding of hounds, is said to have been careful not only that they should be fleet, but also 'well-tongued and consonous;'

the same care in Elizabeth's time is, in the pa.s.sage quoted by the 'Spectator', attributed by Shakespeare to Duke Theseus; and the paper itself shows that care was taken to match the voices of a pack in the reign also of Queen Anne. This has now been for some time absolutely disregarded. In many important respects the pattern harrier of the present day differs even from the harriers used at the beginning of the present century.]

[Footnote 2: Act IV. sc. 1.]