N° 17. TUESDAY, MARCH 31, 1713. ——-Minimumque libidine peccant.-Juv. Sat. vi. 134. If it were to beas brought upon people for ac- knowledging a veneration for the most sacred things, a man might say that the time we now are in* is set apart for humiliation; and all our actions should at present more particularly tend that way. I remember about thirty years ago an eminent divine, who was also most exactly well bred, told his congregation at White-hall, that if they did not vouchsafe to give their lives a new turn, they must certainly go to a place which he did not think fit to name in that courtly audience. It is with me as with that gentleman. I would, if possible, represent the errors of life, especially those arising from what we call gallantry, in such a manner as the people of pleasure may read me. In this case I must not be rough to gentlemen and ladies, but speak of sin as a gentleman. It might not perhaps be amiss, if, therefore, I should call my present precaution, A Criticism upon Fornication; and, by representing the unjust taste they have who affect that way of pleasure, bring a distaste upon it among all those who are judicious in their satisfactions. I will be bold then to lay it down for a rule, that he who follows this kind of gratification, gives up much greater delight in pursuing it, than he can possibly enjoy from it. As to the common women and the stews, there is no one but will allow this assertion at first sight; but if it will appear, that they who deal with those of the sex who are less profligate, descend to greater basenesses than if they frequented brothels, it should, methinks, bring this iniquity under some discountenance. The rake, who without sense of character or decency wallows and ranges in common houses, is guilty no farther than of prostituting himself, and exposing his health to diseases: but the man of gallantry cannot pursue his pleasures without treachery to some man he ought to love, and making despicable the woman he admires. To live in a conti * Viz. Lent. nual deceit; to reflect upon the dishonour you do some husband, father,or brother, who does not deserve this of, you, and whom you would destroy did you know they did the like towards you, are circumstances which pall the appetite, and give a man of any sense of honour very painful mortification. What more need be said against a gentleman's delight, than that he himself thinks himself a base man in pursuing it; when it is thoroughly considered he gives up his very being as a man of integrity who commences gallant? Let him or her who is guilty this way but weigh the matter a little, and the criminal will find that those whom they most esteemed are of a sudden become the most disagreeable companions; nay, their good qualities are grown odious and painful. It is said, people who have the plague have a delight in communicating the infection in like manner, the sense of shame, which is never wholly overcome, inclines the guilty this way to contribute to the destruction of others. And women are pleased to introduce more women into the same condition, though they can have no other satisfaction from it, than that the infamy is shared among greater numbers, which they flatter themselves eases the burden of each particular person. : It is a most melancholy consideration, that for momentary sensations of joy, obtained by stealth, men are forced into a constraint of all their words and actions in the general and ordinary occurrences of life. It is an impossibility in this case to be faithful to one person, without being false to all the rest of the world. The gay figures in which poetical men of loose morals have placed this kind of stealth are but feeble consolations, when a man is inclined to soliloquy or meditation upon his past life; flashes of wit can promote joy, but they cannot allay grief. Disease, sickness, and misfortune, are what all men living are liable to; it is therefore ridiculous and mad to pursue, instead of shunning, what must add to our anguish under disease, sickness, or misfortune. It is possible there may be those whose bloods are too warm to admit of those compunctions: if there are such, I am sure they are laying up store for them; but I have better hopes of those who have not yet erased the impressions and advantages of a good education and fortune; they may be assured, that whoever wholly give themselves up to lust, will soon find it the least fault they are guilty of. Irreconcilable hatred to those they have injured, mean shifts to cover their offences, envy and malice to the innocent, and a general sacrifice of all that is good-natured or praiseworthy when it interrupts them, will possess all their faculties, and make them utter strangers to the noble pleasures which flow from honour and virtue. Happy are they, who from the visitation of sickness, or any other accident, are awakened from a course which leads to an insensibility of the greatest enjoyments in human life. A French author, giving an account of a very agreeable man, in whose character he mingles good qualities and infirmities, rather than vices or virtues, tells the following story: "Our knight," says he, was pretty much addicted to the most fashionable of all faults. He had a loose rogue for a lackey, not a little in his favour, though he had no other name for him when he spoke of him but The rascal," or, to him, but Sirrah.' One morning when he was dressing, Sirrah,' says he, be sure you bring home this evening a pretty wench.' The fellow was a person of diligence and capacity, and had for some time addressed himself to a decayed old gentlewoman, who had a young maiden to her daughter, beauteous as an angel, not yet sixteen years of age. The mother's extreme poverty, and the insinuations of this artful lackey concerning the soft disposition and generosity of his master, made her consent to deliver up her daughter. But many were the entreaties and representations of the mother to gain her child's consent to an action, which she said she abhorred, at the same time she exhorted her to it; but child,' says she, can you see your mother die for hunger!' The virgin argued no longer, but bursting into tears, said she would go any where. The lackey conveyed her with great obsequiousness and secrecy to his master's lodging, and placed her in a commodious apartment till he came home. The knight, who knew his man never failed of bringing in his prey, indulged his genius at a banquet, and was in high humour at an entertainment with ladies, expecting to be received in the evening by one as agreeable as the best of them. When he came home his lackey met him with a saucy and joyful familiarity, crying out, She is as handsome as an angel' (for there is no other simile on these occasions); but the tender fool has wept till her eyes are swelled and bloated: for she is a maid and a gentlewoman.' With that he conducted his master to the room where she was, and retired. The knight, when he saw her bathed in tears, said in some surprise, Do not you know, young woman, why you are brought hither?" The unhappy maid fell on her knees, and with many interruptions of sighs and tears, said to him, I know, alas! too well why I am brought hither; my mother, to get bread for her and myself, has sent me to do what you pleased; but would it would please Heaven I could die, before I am added to the number of those miserable wretches who live without honour!? With this reflection she wept anew, and beat her bosom. The knight, stepping back from her, said, 'I am not so abandoned as to hurt your innocence against your will.' "The novelty of the accident surprised him into virtue ; and, covering the young maid with a cloak, he led her to a relation's house, to whose care he recommended her for that night. The next morning he sent for her mother, and asked her if her daughter was a maid? The mother assured him, that when she delivered her to his servant, she was a stranger to man. Are not you then,' replied the knight, a wicked woman to contrive the debauchery of your own child?' She held down her face with fear and shame, and in her confusion uttered some broken words concerning her poverty. Far be it,' said the gentleman, ' that you should relieve yourself from want by a much greater evil your daughter is a fine young creature; do you know of none that ever spoke of her for a wife?' The mother answered, There is an honest man in our neighbourhood that loves her, who has often said he would marry her with two hundred pounds.' The knight ordered his man to reckon out that sum, with an addition of fifty to buy the bride-clothes, and fifty more as a help to her mother." I appeal to all the gallants in the town, whether possessing all the beauties in Great Britain could give half the pleasure as this young gentleman had in the reflection of having relieved a miserable parent from guilt and po verty, an innocent virgin from public shame, and bestowing a virtuous wife upon an honest man? Though all men who are guilty this way have not fortunes or opportunities for making such atonements for their vices, yet all men may do what is certainly in their power at this good season.* For my part, I do not care how ridiculous the mention of it may be, provided I hear it has any good consequence upon the wretched, that I recommend the most abandoned and miserable of mankind to the charity of all in prosperous conditions under the same guilt with those wretches. The Lock Hospital in Kentstreet, Southwark, for men: that in Kingsland for women, is a receptacle for all sufferers mangled by this iniquity. Penitents should in their own hearts take upon them all the shame and sorrow they have escaped; and it would become them to make an oblation for their crimes, by charity to those upon whom vice appears in that utmost misery and deformity, which they themselves are free from by their better fortune, rather than greater innocence. It would quicken our compassion in this case, if we considered there may be objects there, who would now move horror and loathing, that we have once embraced with transport and as we are men of honour (for I must not speak as we are Christians) let us not desert our friends for the loss of their noses. N° 18. WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1, 1713. HE prospect of death is so gloomy and dismal, that TH if it were constantly before our eyes, it would embitter all the sweets of life. The gracious Author of our being hath therefore so formed us, that we are capable of many pleasing sensations and reflections, and meet with so many amusements and solicitudes, as divert our thoughts from dwelling upon an evil, which by reason of its seeming distance, makes but languid impressions upon the mind. But how distant soever the time of our death may be, since it * Viz. Lent. |