son, word prerogative. That part of your law which is reserved in yourself, for the readier service and good of the public, slight men are eternally buzzing in our ears, to cover their own follies and miscarriages. It would be an addition to the high favour you have done me, if you would let Eucrate send me word how often, and in what cases, you allow a constable to insist upon the prerogative. From the highest to the lowest officer in your dominions, something of their own carriage they would exempt from examination, under the shelter of the word prerogative. I would fain, most noble Pharamond, see one of your officers assert your prerogative by good and gracious actions. When is it used to help the afflicted, to rescue the innocent, to comfort the stranger? Uncommon methods, apparently undertaken to attain worthy ends, would never make power invidious. You see, sir, I talk to you with the freedom your noble nature approves in all whom you admit to your conversation. Eucrate, of your majesty's bed-chamber) a | tell you, sir, this is the reason that we in letter which invites me to court. I under- the country hear so often repeated the stand this great honour to be done me out of respect and inclination to me, rather than regard to our own service; for which reason I beg leave to lay before your majesty my reasons for declining to depart 1 from home; and will not doubt but, as your motive in desiring my attendance was to make me a happier man, when you think that will not be effected by my remove, you will permit me to stay where I am. Those who have an ambition to appear in courts, have either an opinion that their persons or their talents are particularly formed for the service or ornament of that place! or else are hurried by downright desire of gain, or what they call honour, to take upon themselves whatever the generosity of their master can give them opportunities to grasp at. But your goodness shall not be thus imposed upon by me: I will therefore confess to you, that frequent solitude, and long conversation with such who know no arts which polish life, have made me the plainest creature in your dominions. Those less capacities of moving with a good grace, bearing a ready affability to all around me, and acting with ease before many, have quite left me. I am come to that, with regard to my perthat I consider it only as a machine I am obliged to take care of, in order to enjoy my soul in its faculties with alacrity; well remembering that this habitation of clay will in a few years be a meaner piece of earth than any utensil about my house. When this is, as it really is, the most frequent reflection I have, you will easily imagine how well I should become a drawing-room: add to this, what shall a man without desires do about the generous Pharamond? Monsieur Eucrate has hinted to me, that you have thoughts of distinguishing me with titles. As for myself, in the temper of my present mind, appellations of honour would but embarrass discourse, and new behaviour towards me perplex me in every habitude of life. I am also to acknowledge to you, that my children of whom your majesty condescended to inquire, are all of them mean, both in their persons and genius. The estate my eldest son is heir to, is more than he can enjoy with a good grace. My self-love will not carry me so far as to impose upon mankind the advancement of persons (merely for their being related to me) into high distinctions, who ought for their own sakes, as well as that of the public, to affect obscurity. I wish, my generous prince, as it is in your power to give honours and offices, it were also to give talents suitable to them: were it so, the noble Pharamond would reward the zeal of my youth with abilities to do him service in my age. But, to return to your majesty's letter, I humbly conceive that all distinctions are useful to men, only as they are to act in public; and it would be a romantic madness for a man to be lord in his closet. Nothing can be honourable to a man apart from the world, but reflection upon worthy actions; and he that places honour in a consciousness of well doing will have but little relish for any outward homage that is paid him, since what gives him distinction to himself, cannot come within the observation of his beholders. Thus all the words of lordship, honour, and grace, are only repetitions to a man that the king has ordered him to be called so; but no evidences that there is any thing in himself, that would give the man, who applies to him, those ideas, without the creation of his master. 'I have, most noble Pharamond, all honours and all titles in your approbation: I triumph in them as they are in your gift, I refuse them as they are to give me the observation of others. Indulge me, my noble master, in this chastity of renown; let me know myself in the favour of Pharamond; and look down upon the applause of the people. I am, in all duty and loyalty, your majesty's most obedient subject and servant, JEAN CHEZLUY.' 'SIR,-I need not tell with what disadvantages men of low fortunes and great modesty come into the world; what wrong measures their diffidence of themselves, and fear of offending, often oblige them to take; and what a pity it is that their greatest virtues and qualities, that should soonest recommend them, are the main obstacles in the way of their preferment. Those who accept of favour without This, sir, is my case; I was bred at a merit, support themselves in it at the ex-country-school, where I learned Latin and pense of your majesty. Give me leave to Greek. The misfortunes of my family. VOL. II. 30 forced me up to town, where a profession | between Count Rechteren and Monsieur of the politer sort has protected me against Mesnager, which employs the wise heads infamy and want. I am now clerk to a of so many nations, and holds all the affairs lawyer, and, in times of vacancy and re- of Europe in suspense. cess from business, have made myself master of Italian and French; and though the progress I have made in my business has gained me reputation enough for one of my standing, yet my mind suggests to me every day, that it is not upon that foundation I am to build my fortune. 6 Upon my going into a coffee-house yesterday, and lending an ear to the next table, which was encompassed with a circle of inferior politicians, one of them, after having read over the news very attentively, broke out into the following remarks: 'Í am afraid,' says he, 'this unhappy rupture The person I have my present depen-between the footmen at Utrecht will retard dence upon has in his nature, as well as in his power, to advance me, by recommending me to a gentleman that is going beyond sea, in a public employment. I know the printing this letter would point me out to those I want confidence to speak to, and I hope it is not in your power to refuse making any body happy. Yours, &c. 'September 9, 1712. 'T. M. D.' the peace of Christendom. I wish the pope may not be at the bottom of it. His holiness has a very good hand in fomenting a division, as the poor Swiss cantons have lately experienced to their cost. If Monsieur What-d'ye-call-him's domestics will not come to an accommodation, I do not know how the quarrel can be ended but by a religious war. "Why, truly,' says a wiseacre that sat by him, were I as the king of France, I would scorn to take part with the footmen of either side; here's all the business of Eu No. 481.] Thursday, September 11, 1712. rope stands still, because Monsieur Mesna | ger's man has had his head broke. If Count Rectrum had given them a pot of ale after it, all would have been well, without any of this bustle; but they say he's a warm man, and does not care to be made mouths at. Upon this, one that had held his tongue hitherto began to exert himself; declaring, that he was very well pleased the plenipotentiaries of our Christian princes took this matter into their serious consideration; for that lackeys were never so saucy and pragmatical as they are now-a-days, and that he should be glad to see them taken down in the treaty of peace, if it might be done without prejudice to the public affairs. It is sometimes pleasant enough to consider the different notions which different persons have of the same thing. If men of low condition very often set a value on things which are not prized by those who are in a higher station of life, there are many things these esteem which are in no value among persons of an inferior rank. Common people are, in particular, very much astonished when they hear of those One who sat at the other end of the table, solemn contests and debates, which are and seemed to be in the interests of the made among the great upon the punctilios French king, told them, that they did not of a public ceremony; and wonder to hear take the matter right, for that his mest that any business of consequence should Christian majesty did not resent this matter be retarded by those little circumstances, because it was an injury done to Monsieur which they represent to themselves as Mesnager's footmen; 'fer,' says he, what trifling and insignificant. I am mightily are Monsieur Mesnager's footmen to him? pleased with a porter's decision in one of but because it was done to his subjects. Mr. Southern's plays, which is founded Now,' says he, let me tell you, it would upon that fine distress of a virtuous wo-look very odd for a subject of France to man's marrying a second husband, while have a bloody nose, and his sovereign not her first was yet living. The first husband, to take notice of it. He is obliged in howho was supposed to have been dead, re-nour to defend his people against hostilities; turning to his house, after a long absence, raises a noble perplexity for the tragic part of the play. In the meanwhile the nurse and the porter conferring upon the difficulties that would ensue in such a case, honest Samson thinks the matter may be easily decided, and solves it very judiciously by the old proverb, that if his first master be still living, the man must have his mare again.' There is nothing in my time which has so much surprised and confounded the greatest part of my honest countrymen, as the present controversy and if the Dutch will be so insolent to a crowned head, as in any wise to cuff or kick those who are under his protection, I think he is in the right to call them to an account for it.' This distinction set the controversy upon a new foot, and seemed to be very well approved by most that heard it, until a little warm fellow, who had declared himself a friend to the house of Austria, fell most unmercifully upon his Gallic majesty, *Count Rechteren. as encouraging his subjects to make mouths | the name of a club, who, he tells me, meet at their betters, and afterwards screening them from the punishment that was due to their insolence. To which he added, that the French nation was so addicted to grimace, that, if there was not a stop put to it at the general congress, there would be no walking the streets for them in a time of peace, especially if they continued masters of the West Indies. The little man proceeded with a great deal of warmth, declaring that, if the allies were of his mind, he would oblige the French king to burn his galleys, and tolerate the protestant religion in his dominions, before he would sheath his sword. He concluded with calling Monsieur Mesnager an insignificant prig. as often as their wives will give them leave, and stay together till they are sent for home. He informs me that my paper has administered great consolation to their whole club, and desires me to give some farther account of Socrates, and to acquaint them in whose reign he lived, whether he was a citizen or a courtier, whether he buried Xantippe, with many other particulars: for that by his sayings, he appears to have been a very wise man, and a good Christian. Another who writes himself Benjamin Bamboo, tells me that, being coupled with a shrew, he had endeavoured to tame her by such lawful means as those which I mentioned in my last Tuesday's paper, and that in his wrath he had often gone farther The dispute was now growing very warm, than Bracton always allows in those cases: and one does not know where it would have but that for the future he was resolved to ended, had not a young man of about one-bear it like a man of temper and learning, and-twenty, who seems to have been brought and consider her only as one who lives in up with an eye to the law, taken the debate his house to teach him philosophy. Tom into his hand, and given it as his opinion, | that neither Count Rechteren nor Monsieur Mesnager had behaved themselves right in this affair. Count Rechteren,' says he, should have made affidavit that his servant had been affronted, and then Monsieur Mesnager would have done him justice, by taking away their liveries from them, or some other way that he might have thought the most proper; for, let me tell you, if a man makes a mouth at me, I am not to knock the teeth out of it for his pains. Then again, as for Monsieur Mesnager, upon his servant's being beaten, why he might have had his action of assault and battery. But as the case now stands, if you will have my opinion, I think they ought to bring it to referees.' Dapperwit says that he agrees with me in that whole discourse, excepting only the last sentence, where I affirm the married state to be either a heaven or a hell. Tom has been at the charge of a penny upon this occasion to tell me, that by his experience it is neither one nor the other, but rather that middle kind of state, commonly known by the name of purgatory. The fair-sex have likewise obliged me with their reflections upon the same discourse. A lady, who calls herself Euterpe, and seems a woman of letters, asks me whether I am for establishing the Salic law in every family, and why it is not fit that a woman who has discretion and learning should sit at the helm, when the husband is weak and illiterate? Another, of a quite I heard a great deal more of this confer- contrary character, subscribes herself Xanence, but I must confess with little edifica-tippe, and tells me that she follows the tion, for all I could learn at last from these honest gentlemen was, that the matter in debate was of too high a nature for such heads as theirs, or mine, to comprehend. O. No. 482.] Friday, September 12, 1712. WHEN I have published any single paper that falls in with the popular taste, and pleases more than ordinary, it always brings me in a great return of letters. My Tuesday's discourse, wherein I gave several admonitions to the fraternity of the henpecked, has already produced me very many correspondents; the reason I cannot guess, unless it be, that such a discourse is of general use, and every married man's money. An honest tradesman, who dates his letter from Cheapside, sends me thanks in example of her namesake; for being married to a bookish man, who has no knowledge of the world, she is forced to take their affairs into her own hands, and to spirit him up now and then, that he may not grow musty, and unfit for conversation. After this abridgment of some letters which are come to my hands upon this occasion, I shall publish one of them at large. 'MR. SPECTATOR,—You have given us a lively picture of that kind of husband who comes under the denomination of the hen-pecked; but I do not remember that you have ever touched upon one that is quite of the different character, and who, in several places of England, goes by the name of a cot-queen.' I have the misfortune to be joined for life with one of this character, who in reality is more a woman than I am. He was bred up under the tuition of a tender mother, till she had made him as good a housewife as herself. He could preserve apricots, and make jellies, before he had been two years out of the nursery. He was never suffered to go tural depravity of temper it is not in the power, even of religion itself, to preserve the character of the person who is possessed with it from appearing highly absurd and ridiculous. An old maiden gentlewoman, whom I shall conceal under the name of Nemesis, is the greatest discoverer of judgments that I have met with. She can tell you what sin it was that set such a man's house on fire, or blew down his barns. Talk to her of an abroad, for fear of catching cold; when he should have been hunting down a buck, he was by his mother's side learning how to season it, or put it in crust; and making paper boats with his sisters, at an age when other young gentlemen are crossing the seas, or travelling into foreign countries. He has the whitest hand you ever saw in your life, and raises paste better than any woman in England. These qualifications make him a sad husband. He is perpetually in the kitchen, and has a thou-unfortunate young lady that lost her beauty sand squabbles with the cook-maid. He is by the small-pox, she fetches a deep sigh, better acquainted with the milk-score than and tells you, that when she had a fine face his steward's accounts. I fret to death she was always looking on it in her glass. when I hear him find fault with a dish that Tell her of a piece of good fortune that has is not dressed to his liking, and instructing befallen one of her acquaintance, and she his friends that dine with him in the best wishes it may prosper with her, but her pickle for a walnut, or sauce for a haunch mother used one of her nieces very barbaof venison. With all this he is a very good-rously. Her usual remarks turn upon pecnatured husband, and never fell out with ple who had great estates, but never enme in his life but once, upon the over-joyed them by reason of some flaw in their roasting of a dish of wild fowl. At the same own or their father's behaviour. She can time I must own, I would rather he was a give you the reason why such a one died man of a rough temper, and would treat me childless; why such a one was cut off in the harshly sometimes, than of such an effemi-flower of his youth; why such a one was nate busy nature, in a province that does not belong to him. Since you have given us the character of a wife who wears the breeches, pray say somewhat of a husband that wears the petticoat. Why should not a female character be as ridiculous in a man, as a male character in one of our sex? I am, &c. O. Never presume to make a god appear, unhappy in her marriage; why one broke his leg on such a particular spot of ground; and why another was killed with a backsword, rather than with any other kind of weapon. She has a crime for every misfortune that can befall any of her acquaintance; and when she hears of a robbery that has been made, or a murder that has been committed, enlarges more on the guilt of the suffering person, than on that of the thief, or assassin. In short, she is so good a Christian, that whatever happens to herself is a trial, and whatever happens to her neighbours is a judgment. The very description of this folly, in ordinary life, is sufficient to expose it: but, WE cannot be guilty of a greater act of when it appears in a pomp and dignity of uncharitableness than to interpret the af- style, it is very apt to amuse and terrify the flictions which befall our neighbours as mind of the reader. Herodotus and Plupunishments and judgments. It aggravates tarch very often apply their judgments as the evil to him who suffers, when he looks impertinently as the old woman I have beupon himself as the mark of divine ven- fore mentioned, though their manner of regeance, and abates the compassion of those lating them makes the folly itself appear towards him who regard him in so dread- venerable. Indeed most historians, as well ful a light. This humour, of turning every Christian as pagan, have fallen into this misfortune into a judgment, proceeds from idle superstition, and spoken of ill success, wrong notions of religion, which in its own unforeseen disasters, and terrible events, as nature produces good-will towards men, if they had been let into the secrets of Proviand puts the mildest construction upon dence, and made acquainted with that prievery accident that befalls them. In this vate conduct by which the world is governed. case, therefore, it is not religion that sours One would think several of our own histoa man's temper, but it is his temper that rians in particular had many revelations of sours his religion. People of gloomy, un- this kind made to them. Our old English cheerful imaginations, or of envious malig- monks seldom let any of their kings depart nant tempers, whatever kind of life they in peace, who had endeavoured to diminish are engaged in, will discover their natural the power of wealth of which the ecclesiastincture of mind in all their thoughts, tics were in those times possessed. words, and actions. As the finest vines liam the Conqueror's race generally found have often the taste of the soil, so even the their judgments in the New Forest where most religious thoughts often draw some- their father had pulled down churches and thing that is particular from the constitu- monasteries. In short, read one of the tion of the mind in which they arise. When chronicles written by an author of this folly or superstition strike in with this na- | frame of mind, and you would think you Wil were reading a history of the kings of Israel and Judah, where the historians were actually inspired, and where, by a particular scheme of Providence, the kings were distinguished by judgments, or blessings, according as they promoted idolatry or the worship of the true God. If we could look into the effects of every thing, we might be allowed to pronounce boldly upon blessings and judgments; but for a man to give his opinion of what he sees but in part, and in its beginnings, is an unjustifiable piece of rashness and folly. The story of Biton and Clitobus, which was in great reputation among the heathens, (for we see it quoted by all the ancient authors, both Greek and Latin, who have written upon the immortality of the soul,) may teach us a caution in this matter.. These two brothers, being the sons of a lady who was priestess to Juno, drew their mother's chariot to temple at the time of a great solemnity, the persons being absent who, by their office, were to have drawn her chariot on that occasion. The mother was so transported with this instance of filial duty, that she petitioned her goddess to bestow upon them the greatest gift that could be given to men; upon which they were both cast into a deep sleep, and the next morning found dead in the temple. This was such an event, as would have been construed into a judgment, had it happened to the two brothers after an act of disobedience, and would doubtless have been represented as such by any ancient historian who had given us an account of it. O. I cannot but look upon this manner of judging upon misfortunes, not only to be very uncharitable in regard to the person on whom they fall, but very presumptuous in regard to him who is supposed to inflict them. It is a strong argument for a state of retribution hereafter, that in this world virtuous persons are very often unfortunate, and vicious persons prosperous; which is wholly repugnant to the nature of a Being who appears infinitely wise and good in all his works, unless we may suppose that such a promiscuous and undistinguished distribution of good and evil, which was necessary for carrying on the designs of Providence in this life, will be rectified, and made amends for, in another. We are not therefore to expect that fire should fall from heaven in the ordinary course of Providence; nor, when we see triumphant guilt or depressed virtue in particular persons, that Omnipotence will make bare his holy arm in the defence of one, or punishment of the other. It is sufficient that there is a day set apart for the hearing and requiting of both, according to their respective No. 434.] Monday, September 15, 1712. merits. Neque cuiquam tam statim clarum ingenium est, ut possit emergere; nisi illi materia, occasio, fautor etiam, lustrious instantaneously, unless it fortunately meets Nor has any one so bright a genius as to become il The folly of ascribing temporal judgments to any particular crimes, may appear from several considerations. I shall only mention two: First, that, generally speaking, there is no calamity or affliction, which is supposed to have happened as a judgment to a vicious man, which does not 'MR SPECTATOR,-OF all the young felsometimes happen to men of approved re- lows who are in their progress through any ligion and virtue. When Diagoras the profession, none seem to have so good a atheist was on board one of the Athenian title to the protection of the men of emiships, there arose a very violent tempest: nence in it as the modest man, not so much upon which the mariners told him, that it because his modesty is a certain indication was a just judgment upon them for having of his merit, as because it is a certain obtaken so impious a man on board. Diagoras stacle to the producing of it. Now, as of begged them to look upon the rest of the ships all professions, this virtue is thought to be that were in the same distress, and asked more particularly unnecessary in that of them whether or no Diagoras was on board the law than in any other, I shall only apevery vessel in the fleet. We are all in-ply myself to the relief of such who follow volved in the same calamities, and subject this profession with this disadvantage. to the same accidents: and when we see any one of the species under any particular oppression, we should look upon it as arising from the common lot of human nature, rather than from the guilt of the person who suffers. Another consideration, that may check our presumption in putting such a construction upon a misfortune, is this, that it is impossible for us to know what are calamities and what are blessings. How many accidents have passed for misfortunes, which have turned to the welfare and prosperity of the persons to whose lot they have fallen! How many disappointments have, in their consequences, saved a man from ruin! What aggravates the matter is, that those persons who, the better to prepare themselves for this study, have made some progress in others, have, by addicting themselves to letters, increased their natural modesty, and consequently heightened the obstruction to this sort of preferment; so that every one of these may emphatically be said to be such a one as "laboureth and taketh pains, and is still the more behind.” It may be a matter worth discussing, then, why that which made a youth so amiable to the ancients, should make him appear so ridiculous to the moderns? and why, in our days, there should be neglect, and even oppression of young beginners, instead of |