O.

No. 530. Friday, November 7, 1712. Addison.

'Sic visum Veneri; cui placet impares Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea Saevo mittere c.u.m joco.'

Hor.

It is very usual for those who have been severe upon Marriage, in some part or other of their Lives to enter into the Fraternity which they have ridiculed, and to see their Raillery return upon their own Heads. I scarce ever knew a Woman-hater that did not, sooner or later, pay for it. Marriage, which is a Blessing to another Man, falls upon such a one as a Judgment. Mr. _Congreve's Old Batchelor_ [1] is set forth to us with much Wit and Humour, as an Example of this kind. In short, those who have most distinguished themselves by railing at the s.e.x in general, very often make an honourable Amends, by chusing one of the most worthless Persons of it, for a Companion and Yoke-fellow. _Hymen_ takes his Revenge in kind, on those who turn his Mysteries into Ridicule.

My Friend _Will Honeycomb_, who was so unmercifully witty upon the Women, in a couple of Letters, which I lately communicated to the Publick, has given the Ladies ample Satisfaction by marrying a Farmer's Daughter; a piece of News which came to our Club by the last Post. The _Templer_ is very positive that he has married a Dairy-maid: But _Will_, in his Letter to me on this Occasion, sets the best Face upon the Matter that he can, and gives a more tollerable Account of his Spouse. I must confess I suspected something more than ordinary, when upon opening the Letter I found that _Will_ was fallen off from his former Gayety, having changed _Dear Spec_. which was his usual Salute at the Beginning of the Letter, into _My Worthy Friend_, and subscribed himself in the latter End of it at full length _William Honeycomb_. In short, the gay, the loud, the vain _Will Honeycomb_, who had made Love to every great Fortune that has appeared in Town for [above [2]] thirty Years together, and boasted of Favours from Ladies whom he had never seen, is at length wedded to a plain Country Girl.

His Letter gives us the Picture of a converted Rake. The sober Character of the Husband is dashed with the Man of the Town, and enlivened with those little Cant-phrases which have made my Friend _Will_ often thought very pretty Company. But let us hear what he says for himself.

_My Worthy Friend_,

I question not but you, and the rest of my Acquaintance, wonder that I, who have lived in the Smoak and Gallantries of the Town for thirty Years together, should all on a sudden grow fond of a Country Life.

Had not my Dog [of a [3]] Steward run away as he did, without making up his Accounts, I had still been immersed in Sin and Sea-Coal. But since my late forced Visit to my Estate, I am so pleased with it, that I am resolved to live and die upon it. I am every Day abroad among my Acres, and can scarce forbear filling my Letter with Breezes, Shades, Flowers, Meadows, and purling Streams. The Simplicity of Manners, which I have heard you so often speak of, and which appears here in Perfection, charms me wonderfully. As an Instance of it, I must acquaint you, and by your means the whole Club, that I have lately married one of my Tenants Daughters. She is born of honest Parents, and though she has no Portion, she has a great deal of Virtue. The natural Sweetness and Innocence of her Behaviour, the Freshness of her Complection, the unaffected Turn of her Shape and Person, shot me through and through every time I saw her, and did more Execution upon me in Grogram, than the greatest Beauty in Town or Court had ever done in Brocade. In short, she is such an one as promises me a good Heir to my Estate; and if by her means I cannot leave to my Children what are falsely called the Gifts of Birth; high t.i.tles and Alliances: I hope to convey to them the more real and valuable Gifts of Birth; strong Bodies, and Healthy Const.i.tutions. As for your fine Women, I need not tell thee that I know them. I have had my share in their Graces, but no more of that. It shall be my Business hereafter to live the Life of an honest Man, and to act as becomes the Master of a Family. I question not but I shall draw upon me the Raillery of the Town, and be treated to the Tune of the _Marriage-Hater match'd_; but I am prepared for it. I have been as witty upon others in my time. To tell thee truly, I saw such a Tribe of Fashionable young fluttering c.o.xcombs shot up, that I did not think my Post of an _homme de ruelle_ any longer tenable. I felt a certain Stiffness in my Limbs, which entirely destroyed that Jauntyness of Air I was once Master of. Besides, for I may now confess my Age to thee, I have been eight and forty above these Twelve Years. Since my Retirement into the Country will make a Vacancy in the Club, I could wish you would fill up my Place with my Friend _Tom Dapperwit_. He has an infinite deal of Fire, and knows the Town. For my own part, as I have said before, I shall endeavour to live hereafter suitable to a Man in my Station, as a prudent Head of a Family, a good Husband, a careful Father (when it shall so happen) and as

_Your most Sincere Friend, and Humble Servant_,

WILLIAM HONEYCOMB.

O.

[Footnote 1: Heartwell in the play of the _Old Batchelor_. Addison here continues the winding up of the _Spectator_ by finally disposing of another member of the club.]

[Footnote 2: [about]]

[Footnote 3: [the]]

No. 531. Sat.u.r.day, November 8. 1712. Addison.

'Qui mare et terras variisque mundum Temperat horis: Unde nil majus generatur ipso, Nec viget quicquam simile aut secundum.'

Hor.

Simonides being ask'd by _Dionysius_ the Tyrant what G.o.d was, desired a Day's time to consider of it before he made his Reply. When the Day was expired, he desired two Days; and afterwards, instead of returning his Answer, demanded still double the Time to consider of it. This great Poet and Philosopher, the more he contemplated the Nature of the Deity, found that he waded but the more out of his Depth; and that he lost himself in the Thought, instead of finding an End of it. [1]

If we consider the Idea which wise Men, by the Light of Reason, have framed of the Divine Being, it amounts to this: That he has in him all the Perfection of a Spiritual Nature; and since we have no Notion of any kind of spiritual Perfection but what we discover in our own Souls, we joyn Infinitude to each kind of these Perfections, and what is a Faculty in an human Soul becomes an Attribute in G.o.d. _We_ exist in Place and Time, the Divine Being fills the Immensity of s.p.a.ce with his Presence, and Inhabits Eternity. _We_ are possessed of a little Power and a little Knowledge, the Divine Being is Almighty and Omniscient. In short, by adding Infinity to any kind of Perfection we enjoy, and by joyning all these different kinds of Perfections in one Being, we form our Idea of the great Sovereign of Nature.

Though every one who thinks must have made this Observation, I shall produce Mr. _Locke's_ Authority to the same purpose, out of his Essay on Human Understanding.

'If we examine the _Idea_ we have of the incomprehensible Supreme Being, we shall find, that we come by it the same way; and that the complex _Ideas_ we have both of G.o.d and separate Spirits, are made up of the simple _Ideas_ we receive from _Reflection: v. g._ having from what we experiment in our selves, got the _Ideas_ of Existence and Duration, of Knowledge and Power, of Pleasure and Happiness, and of several other Qualities and Powers, which it is better to have, than to be without; when we would frame an _Idea_ the most suitable we can to the Supreme Being, we enlarge every one of these with our _Idea_ of Infinity; and so putting them together, make our Complex _Idea of G.o.d_.' [2]

It is not impossible that there may be many kinds of Spiritual Perfection, besides those which are lodged in an human Soul; but it is impossible that we should have Ideas of any kinds of Perfection, except those of which we have some small Rays and short imperfect Strokes in our selves. It would be therefore a very high Presumption to determine whether the Supream Being has not many more Attributes than those which enter into our Conceptions of him. This is certain, that if there be any kind of Spiritual Perfection which is not marked out in an human Soul, it belongs in its Fulness to the Divine Nature.

Several eminent Philosophers have imagined that the Soul, in her separate State, may have new Faculties springing up in her, which she is not capable of exerting during her present Union with the Body; and whether these Faculties may not correspond with other Attributes in the Divine Nature, and open to us hereafter new Matter of Wonder and Adoration, we are altogether ignorant. This, as I have said before, we ought to acquiesce in, that the Sovereign Being, the great Author of Nature, has in him all possible Perfection, as well in _Kind_ as in _Degree_; to speak according to our Methods of [conceiving. [3]] I shall only add under this Head, that when we have raised our Notion of this Infinite Being as high as it is possible for the Mind of Man to go, it will fall infinitely short of what He really is. _There is no end of his Greatness_: The most exalted Creature he has made, is only capable of adoring it, none but himself can comprehend it.

The Advice of the Son of _Sirach_ is very just and sublime in this Light.

'By his Word all things consist. We may speak much, and yet come short: wherefore in sum, he is all. How shall we be able to magnify him? For he is great above all his Works. The Lord is terrible and very great; and marvellous in his Power. When you glorify the Lord, exalt him as much as you can; for even yet will he far exceed. And when you exalt him, put forth all your strength, and be not weary; for you can never go far enough. Who hath seen him, that he might tell us?

And who can magnify him as he is? There are yet hid greater things than these be, for we have seen but a few of his Works.' [4]

I have here only considered the Supreme Being by the Light of Reason and Philosophy. If we would see him in all the Wonders of his Mercy we must have recourse to Revelation, which represents him to us, not only as infinitely Great and Glorious, but as infinitely Good and Just in his Dispensations towards Man. But as this is a Theory which falls under every one's Consideration, tho' indeed it can never be sufficiently considered, I shall here only take notice of that habitual Worship and Veneration which we ought to pay to this Almighty Being. We should often refresh our Minds with the Thought of him, and annihilate our selves before him, in the Contemplation of our own Worthlessness, and of his transcendent Excellency and Perfection. This would imprint in our Minds such a constant and uninterrupted Awe and Veneration as that which I am here recommending, and which is in reality a kind of incessant Prayer, and reasonable Humiliation of the Soul before him who made it.

This would effectually kill in us all the little Seeds of Pride, Vanity and Self-conceit, which are apt to shoot up in the Minds of such whose Thoughts turn more on those comparative Advantages which they enjoy over some of their Fellow-Creatures, than on that infinite Distance which is placed between them and the Supreme Model of all Perfection. It would likewise quicken our Desires and Endeavours of uniting our selves to him by all the Acts of Religion and Virtue.

Such an habitual Homage to the Supreme Being would, in a particular manner, banish from among us that prevailing Impiety of using his Name on the most trivial Occasions.

I find the following Pa.s.sage in an excellent Sermon, preached at the Funeral of a Gentleman who was an Honour to his Country, and a more diligent as well as successful Enquirer into the Works of Nature, than any other our Nation has ever produced. [5]

'He had the profoundest Veneration for the Great G.o.d of Heaven and Earth that I have ever observed in any Person. The very Name of G.o.d was never mentioned by him without a Pause and a visible Stop in his Discourse; in which, one that knew him most particularly above twenty Years, has told me, that he was so exact, that he does not remember to have observed him once to fail in it.'

Every one knows the Veneration which was paid by the _Jews_ to a Name so great, wonderful and holy. They would not let it enter even into their religious Discourses. What can we then think of those who make use of so tremendous a Name in the ordinary Expressions of their Anger, Mirth, and most impertinent Pa.s.sions? Of those who admit it into the most familiar Questions and a.s.sertions, ludicrous Phrases and Works of Humour? not to mention those who violate it by solemn Perjuries? It would be an Affront to Reason to endeavour to set forth the Horror and Prophaneness of such a Practice. The very mention of it exposes it sufficiently to those in whom the Light of Nature, not to say Religion, is not utterly extinguished.

O.