The Spectator Volume Ii Part 73

Feb. 27, 1711-12.

SIR,

Pray be so kind as to let me know what you esteem to be the chief Qualification of a good Poet, especially of one who writes Plays; and you will very much oblige,

SIR, Your very humble Servant, N. B.

To be a very well-bred Man. The SPECTATOR.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

You are to know that I am naturally Brave, and love Fighting as well as any Man in England. This gallant Temper of mine makes me extremely delighted with Battles on the Stage. I give you this Trouble to complain to you, that Nicolini refused to gratifie me in that Part of the Opera for which I have most Taste. I observe its become a Custom, that whenever any Gentlemen are particularly pleased with a Song, at their crying out Encore or Altro Volto, the Performer is so obliging as to sing it over again. I was at the Opera the last time Hydaspes was performed. At that Part of it where the Heroe engages with the Lion, the graceful Manner with which he put that terrible Monster to Death gave me so great a Pleasure, and at the same time so just a Sense of that Gentleman's Intrepidity and Conduct, that I could not forbear desiring a Repet.i.tion of it, by crying out Altro Volto in a very audible Voice; and my Friends flatter me, that I p.r.o.nounced those Words with a tolerable good Accent, considering that was but the third Opera I had ever seen in my Life. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there was so little Regard had to me, that the Lion was carried off, and went to Bed, without being killed any more that Night. Now, Sir, pray consider that I did not understand a Word of what Mr. Nicolini said to this cruel Creature; besides, I have no Ear for Musick; so that during the long Dispute between em, the whole Entertainment I had was from my Eye; Why then have not I as much Right to have a graceful Action repeated as another has a pleasing Sound, since he only hears as I only see, and we neither of us know that there is any reasonable thing a doing? Pray, Sir, settle the Business of this Claim in the Audience, and let us know when we may cry Altro Volto, Anglice, again, again, for the Future. I am an Englishman, and expect some Reason or other to be given me, and perhaps an ordinary one may serve; but I expect your Answer.

I am, SIR, Your most humble Servant, Toby Rentfree.

Nov. 29.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

You must give me Leave, amongst the rest of your Female Correspondents, to address you about an Affair which has already given you many a Speculation; and which, I know, I need not tell you have had a very happy Influence over the adult Part of our s.e.x: But as many of us are either too old to learn, or too obstinate in the Pursuit of the Vanities which have been bred up with us from our Infancy, and all of us quitting the Stage whilst you are prompting us to act our Part well; you ought, methinks, rather to turn your Instructions for the Benefit of that Part of our s.e.x, who are yet in their native Innocence, and ignorant of the Vices and that Variety of Unhappinesses that reign amongst us.

I must tell you, Mr. SPECTATOR, that it is as much a Part of your Office to oversee the Education of the female Part of the Nation, as well as of the Male; and to convince the World you are not partial, pray proceed to detect the Male Administration of Governesses as successfully as you have exposed that of Pedagogues; and rescue our s.e.x from the Prejudice and Tyranny of Education as well as that of your own, who without your seasonable Interposition are like to improve upon the Vices that are now in vogue.

I who know the Dignity of your Post, as SPECTATOR, and the Authority a skilful Eye ought to bear in the Female World, could not forbear consulting you, and beg your Advice in so critical a Point, as is that of the Education of young Gentlewomen. Having already provided myself with a very convenient House in a good Air, I'm not without Hope but that you will promote this generous Design. I must farther tell you, Sir, that all who shall be committed to my Conduct, beside the usual Accomplishments of the Needle, Dancing, and the French Tongue, shall not fail to be your constant Readers. It is therefore my humble Pet.i.tion, that you will entertain the Town on this important Subject, and so far oblige a Stranger, as to raise a Curiosity and Enquiry in my Behalf, by publis.h.i.+ng the following Advertis.e.m.e.nt.

I am, SIR, Your constant Admirer, M. W.

T.

ADVERTIs.e.m.e.nT.

The Boarding-School for young Gentlewomen, which was formerly kept on Mile-End-Green, being laid down, there is now one set up almost opposite to it at the two Golden-b.a.l.l.s, and much more convenient in every Respect; where, beside the common Instructions given to young Gentlewomen, they will be taught the whole Art of Paistrey and Preserving, with whatever may render them accomplished. Those who please to make Tryal of the Vigilance and Ability of the Persons concerned may enquire at the two Golden-b.a.l.l.s on Mile-End-Green near Stepney, where they will receive further Satisfaction.

This is to give Notice, that the SPECTATOR has taken upon him to be Visitant of all Boarding-Schools, where young Women are educated; and designs to proceed in the said Office after the same Manner that the Visitants of Colleges do in the two famous Universities of this Land.

All Lovers who write to the SPECTATOR, are desired to forbear one Expression which is in most of the Letters to him, either out of Laziness, or want of Invention, and is true of not above two thousand Women in the whole World; viz. She has in her all that is valuable in Woman.

No. 315 Sat.u.r.day, March 1, 1712. Addison.

Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus Inciderit.

Hor.

Horace advises a Poet to consider thoroughly the Nature and Force of his Genius. [1] Milton seems to have known perfectly well, wherein his Strength lay, and has therefore chosen a Subject entirely conformable to those Talents, of which he was Master. As his Genius was wonderfully turned to the Sublime, his Subject is the n.o.blest that could have entered into the Thoughts of Man. Every thing that is truly great and astonis.h.i.+ng, has a place in it. The whole System of the intellectual World; the Chaos, and the Creation; Heaven, Earth and h.e.l.l; enter into the Const.i.tution of his Poem.

Having in the First and Second Books represented the Infernal World with all its Horrors, the Thread of his Fable naturally leads him into the opposite Regions of Bliss and Glory.

If Milton's Majesty forsakes him any where, it is in those Parts of his Poem, where the Divine Persons are introduced as Speakers. One may, I think, observe that the Author proceeds with a kind of Fear and Trembling, whilst he describes the Sentiments of the Almighty. He dares not give his Imagination its full Play, but chuses to confine himself to such Thoughts as are drawn from the Books of the most Orthodox Divines, and to such Expressions as may be met with in Scripture. The Beauties, therefore, which we are to look for in these Speeches, are not of a Poetical Nature, nor so proper to fill the Mind with Sentiments of Grandeur, as with Thoughts of Devotion. The Pa.s.sions, which they are designed to raise, are a Divine Love and Religious Fear. The Particular Beauty of the Speeches in the Third Book, consists in that Shortness and Perspicuity of Style, in which the Poet has couched the greatest Mysteries of Christianity, and drawn together, in a regular Scheme, the whole Dispensation of Providence, with respect to Man. He has represented all the abstruse Doctrines of Predestination, Free-Will and Grace, as also the great Points of Incarnation and Redemption, (which naturally grow up in a Poem that treats of the Fall of Man) with great Energy of Expression, and in a clearer and stronger Light than I ever met with in any other Writer. As these Points are dry in themselves to the generality of Readers, the concise and clear manner in which he has treated them, is very much to be admired, as is likewise that particular Art which he has made use of in the interspersing of all those Graces of Poetry, which the Subject was capable of receiving.

The Survey of the whole Creation, and of every thing that is transacted in it, is a Prospect worthy of Omniscience; and as much above that, in which Virgil has drawn his Jupiter, as the Christian Idea of the Supreme Being is more Rational and Sublime than that of the Heathens. The particular Objects on which he is described to have cast his Eye, are represented in the most beautiful and lively Manner.

Now had th' Almighty Father from above, (From the pure Empyrean where he sits High thron'd above all height) bent down his Eye, His own Works and their Works at once to view.

About him all the Sanct.i.ties of Heavn Stood thick as Stars, and from his Sight received Beat.i.tude past uttrance: On his right The radiant Image of his Glory sat, His only Son. On earth he first beheld Our two first Parents, yet the only two Of Mankind, in the happy garden plac'd, Reaping immortal fruits of Joy and Love; Uninterrupted Joy, unrival'd Love In blissful Solitude. He then surveyed h.e.l.l and the Gulph between, and Satan there Coasting the Wall of Heaven on this side Night, In the dun air sublime; and ready now To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feel On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd Firm land imbosom'd without firmament; Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air.

Him G.o.d beholding from his prospect high, Wherein past, present, future he beholds, Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake.

Satan's Approach to the Confines of the Creation, is finely imaged in the beginning of the Speech, which immediately follows. The Effects of this Speech in the blessed Spirits, and in the Divine Person to whom it was addressed, cannot but fill the Mind of the Reader with a secret Pleasure and Complacency.

Thus while G.o.d spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd All Heavn, and in the blessed Spirits elect Sense of new Joy ineffable diffus'd.

Beyond compare the Son of G.o.d was seen Most glorious, in him all his Father shone Substantially expressed, and in his face Divine Compa.s.sion visibly appeared, Love without end, and without measure Grace.

I need not point out the Beauty of that Circ.u.mstance, wherein the whole Host of Angels are represented as standing Mute; nor shew how proper the Occasion was to produce such a Silence in Heaven. The Close of this Divine Colloquy, with the Hymn of Angels that follows upon it, are so wonderfully Beautiful and Poetical, that I should not forbear inserting the whole Pa.s.sage, if the Bounds of my Paper would give me leave.

No sooner had th' Almighty ceas'd, but all The mult.i.tudes of Angels with a shout (Loud as from numbers without number, sweet As from blest Voices) uttring Joy, Heavn rung With Jubilee, and loud Hosannas fill'd Th' eternal regions; &c. &c.--

Satan's Walk upon the Outside of the Universe, which, at a Distance, appeared to him of a globular Form, but, upon his nearer Approach, looked like an unbounded Plain, is natural and n.o.ble: As his Roaming upon the Frontiers of the Creation between that Ma.s.s of Matter, which was wrought into a World, and that shapeless unformed Heap of Materials, which still lay in Chaos and Confusion, strikes the Imagination with something astonis.h.i.+ngly great and wild. I have before spoken of the Limbo of Vanity, which the Poet places upon this outermost Surface of the Universe, and shall here explain my self more at large on that, and other Parts of the Poem, which are of the same Shadowy Nature.

Aristotle observes[1], that the Fable of an Epic Poem should abound in Circ.u.mstances that are both credible and astonis.h.i.+ng; or as the French Criticks chuse to phrase it, the Fable should be filled with the Probable and the Marvellous. This Rule is as fine and just as any in Aristotle's whole Art of Poetry.

If the Fable is only Probable, it differs nothing from a true History; if it is only Marvellous, it is no better than a Romance. The great Secret therefore of Heroic Poetry is to relate such Circ.u.mstances, as may produce in the Reader at the same time both Belief and Astonishment.