Among the Writers of Antiquity, there are none who instruct us more openly in the Manners of their respective Times in which they lived, than those who have employed themselves in Satyr, under what Dress soever it may appear; as there are no other Authors whose Province it is to enter so directly into the Ways of Men, and set their Miscarriages in so strong a Light.
_Simonides_,[1] a Poet famous in his Generation, is, I think, Author of the oldest Satyr that is now extant; and, as some say, of the first that was ever written. This Poet flourished about four hundred Years after the Siege of _Troy;_ and shews, by his way of Writing, the Simplicity, or rather Coa.r.s.eness, of the Age in which he lived. I have taken notice, in my Hundred and sixty first Speculation, that the Rule of observing what the _French_ call the _bienseance_, in an Allusion, has been found out of later Years; and that the Ancients, provided there was a Likeness in their Similitudes, did not much trouble themselves about the Decency of the Comparison. The Satyr or Iambicks of _Simonides_, with which I shall entertain my Readers in the present Paper, are a remarkable Instance of what I formerly advanced. The Subject of this Satyr is Woman. He describes the s.e.x in their several Characters, which he derives to them from a fanciful Supposition raised upon the Doctrine of Praeexistence. He tells us, That the G.o.ds formed the Souls of Women out of those Seeds and Principles which compose several Kinds of Animals and Elements; and that their Good or Bad Dispositions arise in them according as such and such Seeds and Principles predominate in their Const.i.tutions. I have translated the Author very faithfully, and if not Word for Word (which our Language would not bear) at least so as to comprehend every one of his Sentiments, without adding any thing of my own. I have already apologized for this Authors Want of Delicacy, and must further premise, That the following Satyr affects only some of the lower part of the s.e.x, and not those who have been refined by a Polite Education, which was not so common in the Age of this Poet.
_In the Beginning G.o.d made the Souls of Womankind out of different Materials, and in a separate State from their Bodies_.
_The Souls of one Kind of Women were formed out of those Ingredients which compose a Swine. A Woman of this Make is a s.l.u.t in her House and a Glutton at her Table. She is uncleanly in her Person, a Slattern in her Dress, and her Family is no better than a Dunghill_.
_A Second Sort of Female Soul was formed out of the same Materials that enter into the Composition of a Fox. Such an one is what we call a notable discerning Woman, who has an Insight into every thing, whether it be good or bad. In this Species of Females there are some Virtuous and some Vicious_.
_A Third Kind of Women were made up of Canine Particles. These are what we commonly call_ Scolds, _who imitate the Animals of which they were taken, that are always busy and barking, that snarl at every one who comes in their Way, and live in perpetual Clamour_.
_The Fourth Kind of Women were made out of the Earth. These are your Sluggards, who pa.s.s away their Time in Indolence and Ignorance, hover over the Fire a whole Winter, and apply themselves with Alacrity to no kind of Business but Eating_.
_The Fifth Species of Females were made out of the Sea. These are Women of variable uneven Tempers, sometimes all Storm and Tempest, sometimes all Calm and Sunshine. The Stranger who sees one of these in her Smiles and Smoothness would cry her up for a Miracle of good Humour; but on a sudden her Looks and her Words are changed, she is nothing but Fury and Outrage, Noise and Hurricane_.
_The Sixth Species were made up of the Ingredients which compose an a.s.s, or a Beast of Burden. These are naturally exceeding slothful, but, upon the Husbands exerting his Authority, will live upon hard Fare, and do every thing to please him. They are however far from being averse to Venereal Pleasure, and seldom refuse a Male Companion_.
_The Cat furnished Materials for a Seventh Species of Women, who are of a melancholy, froward, unamiable Nature, and so repugnant to the Offers of Love, that they fly in the Face of their Husband when he approaches them with conjugal Endearments. This Species of Women are likewise subject to little Thefts, Cheats and Pilferings_.
_The Mare with a flowing Mane, which was never broke to any servile Toil and Labour, composed an Eighth Species of Women. These are they who have little Regard for their Husbands, who pa.s.s away their Time in Dressing, Bathing, and Perfuming; who throw their Hair into the nicest Curls, and trick it up with the fairest Flowers and Garlands. A Woman of this Species is a very pretty Thing for a Stranger to look upon, but very detrimental to the Owner, unless it be a King or Prince who takes a Fancy to such a Toy_.
_The Ninth Species of Females were taken out of the Ape. These are such as are both ugly and ill-natured, who have nothing beautiful in themselves, and endeavour to detract from or ridicule every thing which appears so in others_.
_The Tenth and last Species of Women were made out of the Bee; and happy is the Man who gets such an one for his Wife. She is altogether faultless and unblameable; her Family flourishes and improves by her good Management. She loves her Husband, and is beloved by him. She brings him a Race of beautiful and virtuous Children. She distinguishes her self among her s.e.x. She is surrounded with Graces.
She never sits among the loose Tribe of Women, nor pa.s.ses away her Time with them in wanton Discourses. She is full of Virtue and Prudence, and is the best Wife that_ Jupiter _can bestow on Man_.
I shall conclude these Iambicks with the Motto of this Paper, which is a Fragment of the same Author: _A Man cannot possess any Thing that is better than a good Woman, nor any thing that is worse than a bad one_.
As the Poet has shewn a great Penetration in this Diversity of Female Characters, he has avoided the Fault which _Juvenal_ and Monsieur _Boileau_ are guilty of, the former in his sixth, and the other in his last Satyr, where they have endeavoured to expose the s.e.x in general, without doing Justice to the valuable Part of it. Such levelling Satyrs are of no Use to the World, and for this Reason I have often wondered how the _French_ Author above-mentioned, who was a Man of exquisite Judgment, and a Lover of Virtue, could think human Nature a proper Subject for Satyr in another of his celebrated Pieces, which is called _The Satyr upon Man_. What Vice or Frailty can a Discourse correct, which censures the whole Species alike, and endeavours to shew by some Superficial Strokes of Wit, that Brutes are the more excellent Creatures of the two? A Satyr should expose nothing but what is corrigible, and make a due Discrimination between those who are, and those who are not the proper Objects of it.
L.
[Footnote 1: Of the poems of Simonides, contemporary of AEschylus, only fragments remain. He died about 467 B.C.]
No. 210. Wednesday, Oct. 31, 1711. John Hughes.
Nescio quomodo inhaeret in mentibus quasi seculorum quoddam augurium futurorum; idque in maximis ingeniis altissimisque animis et exist.i.t maxime et apparet facillime.
Cic. Tusc. Quaest.
_To the_ SPECTATOR.
SIR,
I am fully persuaded that one of the best Springs of generous and worthy Actions, is the having generous and worthy Thoughts of our selves. Whoever has a mean Opinion of the Dignity of his Nature, will act in no higher a Rank than he has allotted himself in his own Estimation. If he considers his Being as circ.u.mscribed by the uncertain Term of a few Years, his Designs will be contracted into the same narrow Span he imagines is to bound his Existence. How can he exalt his Thoughts to any thing great and n.o.ble, who only believes that, after a short Turn on the Stage of this World, he is to sink into Oblivion, and to lose his Consciousness for ever?
For this Reason I am of Opinion, that so useful and elevated a Contemplation as that of the _Souls Immortality_ cannot be resumed too often. There is not a more improving Exercise to the human Mind, than to be frequently reviewing its own great Privileges and Endowments; nor a more effectual Means to awaken in us an Ambition raised above low Objects and little Pursuits, than to value our selves as Heirs of Eternity.
It is a very great Satisfaction to consider the best and wisest of Mankind in all Nations and Ages, a.s.serting, as with one Voice, this their Birthright, and to find it ratify"d by an express Revelation. At the same time if we turn our Thoughts inward upon our selves, we may meet with a kind of secret Sense concurring with the Proofs of our own Immortality.
You have, in my Opinion, raised a good presumptive Argument from the increasing Appet.i.te the Mind has to Knowledge, and to the extending its own Faculties, which cannot be accomplished, as the more restrained Perfection of lower Creatures may, in the Limits of a short Life. I think another probable Conjecture may be raised from our Appet.i.te to Duration it self, and from a Reflection on our Progress through the several Stages of it: _We are complaining_, as you observe in a former Speculation, _of the Shortness of Life, and yet are perpetually hurrying over the Parts of it, to arrive at certain little Settlements, or imaginary Points of Rest, which are dispersed up and down in it_.
Now let us consider what happens to us when we arrive at these _imaginary Points of Rest_: Do we stop our Motion, and sit down satisfied in the Settlement we have gain"d? or are we not removing the Boundary, and marking out new Points of Rest, to which we press forward with the like Eagerness, and which cease to be such as fast as we attain them? Our Case is like that of a Traveller upon the _Alps_, who should fancy that the Top of the next Hill must end his Journey, because it terminates his Prospect; but he no sooner arrives as it, than he sees new Ground and other Hills beyond it, and continues to travel on as before. [1]
This is so plainly every Man"s Condition in Life, that there is no one who has observed any thing, but may observe, that as fast as his Time wears away, his Appet.i.te to something future remains. The Use therefore I would make of it is this, That since Nature (as some love to express it) does nothing in vain, or, to speak properly, since the Author of our Being has planted no wandering Pa.s.sion in it, no Desire which has not its Object, Futurity is the proper Object of the Pa.s.sion so constantly exercis"d about it; and this Restlessness in the present, this a.s.signing our selves over to further Stages of Duration, this successive grasping at somewhat still to come, appears to me (whatever it may to others) as a kind of Instinct or natural Symptom which the Mind of Man has of its own Immortality.
I take it at the same time for granted, that the Immortality of the Soul is sufficiently established by other Arguments: And if so, this Appet.i.te, which otherwise would be very unaccountable and absurd, seems very reasonable, and adds Strength to the Conclusion. But I am amazed when I consider there are Creatures capable of Thought, who, in spite of every Argument, can form to themselves a sullen Satisfaction in thinking otherwise. There is something so pitifully mean in the inverted Ambition of that Man who can hope for Annihilation, and please himself to think that his whole Fabrick shall one Day crumble into Dust, and mix with the Ma.s.s of inanimate Beings, that it equally deserves our Admiration and Pity. The Mystery of such Mens Unbelief is not hard to be penetrated; and indeed amounts to nothing more than a sordid Hope that they shall not be immortal, because they dare not be so.
This brings me back to my first Observation, and gives me Occasion to say further, That as worthy Actions spring from worthy Thoughts, so worthy Thoughts are likewise the Consequence of worthy Actions: But the Wretch who has degraded himself below the Character of Immortality, is very willing to resign his Pretensions to it, and to subst.i.tute in its Room a dark negative Happiness in the Extinction of his Being.
The admirable _Shakespear_ has given us a strong Image of the unsupported Condition of such a Person in his last Minutes, in the second Part of King _Henry_ the Sixth, where Cardinal _Beaufort_, who had been concerned in the Murder of the good Duke _Humphrey_, is represented on his Death-bed. After some short confused Speeches which shew an Imagination disturbed with Guilt, just as he is expiring, King _Henry_ standing by him full of Compa.s.sion, says,
_Lord Cardinal! if thou thinkst on Heavens Bliss, Hold up thy Hand, make Signal of that Hope!
He dies, and makes no Sign_!--
The Despair which is here shewn, without a Word or Action on the Part of the dying Person, is beyond what could be painted by the most forcible Expressions whatever.
I shall not pursue this Thought further, but only add, That as Annihilation is not to be had with a Wish, so it is the most abject Thing in the World to wish it. What are Honour, Fame, Wealth, or Power when compared with the generous Expectation of a Being without End, and a Happiness adequate to that Being?
I shall trouble you no further; but with a certain Gravity which these Thoughts have given me, I reflect upon some Things People say of you, (as they will of Men who distinguish themselves) which I hope are not true; and wish you as good a Man as you are an Author.
_I am, SIR, Your most obedient humble Servant_, T. D.
Z.
[Footnote 1: