and as the world is more apt to find fault than to commend, the boast will probably be censured, when the great action that occasioned it is forgotten.

Besides, this very desire of fame is looked on as a meanness and imperfection in the greatest character. A solid and substantial greatness of soul looks down, with a generous neglect, on the censures and applauses of the multitudo, and places a man beyond the little noise and strife of tongues. Accordingly we find in ourselves a secret awe and veneration for the charac

and illustrious course of virtue, without any
regard to our good or ill opinions of him,
to our reproaches or commendations. As
on the contrary it is usual for us, when we
would take off from the fame and reputa-
tion of an action, to ascribe it to vain-glory,
and a desire of fame in the actor.
is this common judgment and opinion of
mankind ill-founded: for certainly it de-
notes no great bravery of mind, to be work-
ed up to any noble action by so selfish a
motive, and to do that out of a desire of

Nor

to distinguish themselves from the rest of mankind? Providence for the most part sets us upon a level, and observes a kind of proportion in its dispensation towards us. If it renders us perfect in one accomplishment, it generally leaves us defective in another, and seems careful rather of preserving every person from being mean and deficient in his qualifications, than of making any single one eminent or extraordinary. Among those who are the most richly endowed by nature, and accomplished by their own industry, how few are there whose virtues are not obscured by the igno-ter of one who moves above us, in a regular rance, prejudice, or envy of their beholders! Some men cannot discern between a noble and a mean action. Others are apt to attribute them to some false end or intention; and others purposely misrepresent, or put a wrong interpretation on them. But the more to enforce this consideration, we may observe that those are generally most unsuccessful in their pursuit after fame, who are most desirous of obtaining it It is Sallust's remark upon Cato, that the less he coveted glory, the more he acquired it. * Men take an ill-natured pleasure in cross-fame, which we could not be prompted to ing our inclinations, and disappointing us in by a disinterested love to mankind, or by a what our hearts are most set upon. When generous passion for the glory of him who therefore, they have discovered the pas- made us. sionate desire of fame in the ambitious man, (as no temper of mind is more apt to show itself) they become sparing and reserved in their commendations, they envy him the satisfaction of an applause, and look on their praises rather as a kindness done to his person, than as a tribute paid to his merit. Others who are free from this natural perverseness of temper, grow weary in their praises of one who sets too great a value on them, lest they should raise him too high in his own imagination, and by consequence remove him to a greater distance from themselves.

But further, this desire of fame naturally betrays the ambitious man into such inde

Thus is fame a thing difficult to be obtained by all, but particularly by those who thirst after it, since most men have so much either of ill-nature, or of wariness, as not to gratify or soothe the vanity of the ambitious man; and since this very thirst after fame naturally betrays him into such indecencies as are a lessening to his reputation, and is itself looked upon as a weakness in the greatest characters.

In the next place, fame is easily lost, and as difficult to be preserved as it was at first to be acquired. But this I shall make_the subject of a following paper.

Φήμη γαρ τε κακη πέλεται κρυφη μεν αειραι
Ρεια μαλ, αργαλέη δε φέρειν.

C.

Hesiod.

cencies as are a lessening to his reputation. No. 256.] Monday, December 24, 1711. He is still afraid lest any of his actions should be thrown away in private, lest his deserts should be concealed from the notice of the world, or receive any disadvantage from the reports which others make of them. This often sets him on empty boasts and ostentations of himself, and betrays him into vain fantastical recitals of his own performances. His discourse generally leans one way, and whatever is the subject of it, tends obliquely either to the detracting from others, or to the extolling of himself. Vanity is the natural weakness of an ambitious man, which exposes him to the secret scorn and derision of those he converses with, and ruins the character he is so industrious to advance by it. For though his actions are never so glorious, they lose their lustre when they are drawn at large, and set to show by his own hand;

*Sal. Bel. Catil. c. 49.

Fame is an ill you may with ease obtain, A sad oppression to be borne with pain. THERE are many passions and tempers of mind which naturally dispose us to depress and vilify the merit of one rising in the esteem of mankind. All those who made their entrance into the world with the same advantages, and were once looked on as his equals, are apt to think the fame of his merits a reflection on their own deserts; and will therefore take care to reproach him with the scandal of some past action, or derogate from the worth of the present, that they may still keep him on The like the same level with themselves. kind of consideration often stirs up the envy of such as were once his superiors, who think it a detraction from their merit to see another get ground upon them, and over

take them in the pursuits of glory; and will | cate motives there are to detraction and therefore endeavour to sink his reputation, defamation, and how many malicious spies that they may the better preserve their own. are searching into the actions of a great Those who were once his equals envy and man, who is not, always, the best prepared defame him, because they now see him for so narrow an inspection. For we may their superior; and those who were once generally observe that our admiration of a his superiors, because they look upon him famous man lessens upon our nearer acas their equal. quaintance with him: and that we seldom hear the description of a celebrated person, without a catalogue of some notorious weak

have before observed, the same temper of mind which inclines us to a desire of fame, naturally betrays us into such slips and unwariness, as are not incident to men of a contrary disposition.

After all it must be confessed, that a noble and triumphant merit often breaks through and dissipates these little spots and sullies in its reputation; but if by a mistaken pursuit after fame, or through human infirmity, any false step be made in the more momentous concerns of life, the whole scheme of ambitious designs is broken and disappointed. The smaller stains and blemishes may die away and disappear, amidst the brightness that surrounds them; but a blot of a deeper nature casts a shade on all the other beauties, and darkens the whole character. How difficult therefore is it to preserve a great name, when he that has acquired it is so obnoxious to such little weaknesses and infirmities as are no small diminution to it when discovered; especially when they are so industriously proclaimed, and aggravated by such as were once his superiors, or equals; by such as would set to show their judgment, or their wit, and by such as are guilty, or innocent, of the same slips or misconducts in their own behaviour!

But farther, a man whose extraordinary reputation thus lifts him up to the notice and observation of mankind, draws a mul-nesses and infirmities. The reason may titude of eyes upon him, that will narrowly be, because any little slip is more conspiinspect every part of him, consider him cuous and observable in his conduct than in nicely in all views, and not be a little pleased, another's, as it is not of a piece with the when they have taken him in the worst rest of his character: or because it is imand most disadvantageous light. There possible for a man at the same time to be are many who find a pleasure in contradict- attentive to the more important part of his ing the common reports of fame, and in life, and to keep a watchful eye over all the spreading abroad the weaknesses of an ex- inconsiderable circumstances of his behaalted character. They publish their ill-viour and conversation; or because, as we natured discoveries with a secret pride, and applaud themselves for the singularity of their judgment, which has searched deeper than others, detected what the rest of the world have overlooked, and found a flaw in what the generality of mankind admires. Others there are who proclaim the errors and infirmities of a great man with an inward satisfaction and complacency, if they discover none of the like errors and infirmities in themselves; for while they are exposing another's weakness, they are tacitly aiming at their own commendations, who are not subject to the like infirmities, and are apt to be transported with a sccret kind of vanity, to see themselves superior in some respects to one of a sublime and celebrated reputation. Nay, it very often happens, that none are more industrious in publishing the blemishes of an extraordinary reputation, than such as lie open to the same censures in their own characters, as either hoping to excuse their own defects by the authority of so high an example, or to raise an imaginary applause to themselves, for resembling a person of an exalted reputation, though in the blameable parts of his character. If all these secret springs of detraction fail, yet very often a vain ostentation of wit sets a man on attacking an established name, and sacrificing it to the mirth and laughter of those about him. A satire or a libel on one of the common stamp never meets with that reception and approbation among its readers, as what is aimed at a person whose merit places him upon an eminence, and gives him a more conspicuous figure among men. Whether it be, that we think it shows greater art to expose and turn to ridicule a man whose character seems so improper a subject for it, or that we are pleased by some implicit kind of revenge, to see him taken down and humbled in his reputation, and in some measure reduced to our own rank, who had so far raised himself above us, in the reports and opinions of mankind.

Thus we see how many dark and intri

But were there none of these dispositions in others to censure a famous man, nor any such miscarriages in himself, yet would he meet with no small trouble in keeping up his reputation, in all its height and splendour. There must be always a noble train of actions to preserve his fame in life and motion. For when it is once at a stand, it naturally flags and languishes. Admiration is a very short-lived passion, that immediately decays upon growing familiar with its object, unless it be still fed with fresh discoveries, and kept alive by a new perpetual succession of miracles rising up to its view. And even the greatest actions of a celebrated person labour under this disadvantage, that however surprising and extraordinary they may be, they are no more than what are expected from him;

how will he be able to bear up under scandal and defamation? for the same temper of mind which makes him desire fame, makes him hate reproach. If he can be

but on the contrary, if they fall any thing below the opinion that is conceived of him, though they might raise the reputation of another, they are a diminution to his. One would think there should be some-transported with the extraordinary praises thing wonderfully pleasing in the possession of fame, that, notwithstanding all these mortifying considerations, can engage a man in so desperate a pursuit; and yet, if we consider the little happiness that attends a great character, and the multitude of disquietudes to which the desire of it subjects an ambitious mind, one would be still the more surprised to see so many restless candidates for glory.

of men, he will be as much dejected by their censures. How little therefore is the happiness of an ambitious man, who gives every one a dominion over it, who thus subjects himself to the good or ill speeches of others, and puts it in the power of every malicious tongue to throw him into a fit of melancholy, and destroy his natural rest and repose of mind; especially when we consider that the world is more apt to censure than applaud, and himself fuller of imperfections than virtues.

We may further observe, that such a man will be more grieved for the loss of fame, than he could have been pleased with the enjoyment of it. For though the presence of this imaginary good cannot make us happy, the absence of it may make us miserable; because in the enjoyment of an object we only find that share of pleasure which it is capable of giving us, but in the loss of it we do not proportion our grief to the real value it bears, but to the value our fancies and imaginations set upon it.

Ambition raises a secret tumult in the soul, it inflames the mind, and puts it into a violent hurry of thought. It is still reaching after an empty imaginary good, that has not in it the power to abate or satisfy it. Most other things we long for can allay the cravings of their proper sense, and for a while set the appetite at rest; but fame is a good so wholly foreign to our natures, that we have no faculty in the soul adapted to it, nor any organ in the body to relish it: an object of desire, placed out of the possibility of fruition. It may indeed fill the mind for a while with a giddy kind of pleasure, but it is such a pleasure as makes a man restless and uneasy under it; and which does not so much satisfy the present thirst, as it excites fresh desires, and sets the soul on new enterprises. For how few ambitious men are there, who have got as much fame as they desired, and whose thirst after it has not been as eager in the very height of their reputation, as it was before they became known and eminent among men! There is not any circumstance in Cæsar's character which gives me a greater idea of him, than a saying which Cicero tells us he frequently made use of in private conversation, That he was satisfied with his share of life and fame.' Se sutis vel ad naturam, vel ad gloriam vix-even by their praises. isse.' Many indeed have given over their pursuits after fame, but that has proceeded No. 257.] either from the disappointments they have met in it, or from their experience of the little pleasure which attends it, or from the better informations or natural coldness of old age; but seldom from a full satisfaction and acquiescence in their present enjoyments of it.

So inconsiderable is the satisfaction that fame brings along with it, and so great the disquietudes to which it makes us liable. The desire of it stirs up very uneasy motions in the mind, and is rather inflamed than satisfied by the presence of the thing desired. The enjoyment of it brings but very little pleasure, though the loss or want of it be very sensible and afflicting; and even this little happiness is so very precarious, that it wholly depends upon the will of others. We are not only tortured by the reproaches which are offered us, but are disappointed by the silence of men when it is unexpected; and humbled

C.

Tuesday, December 25, 1711.

Ουχ' εύδει Διος
Οφθαλμος· είγυς δ' εστι και παρων πόνω.

Incert. ex Stob.

No slumber seals the eye of Providence,
Present to every action we commence.

THAT I might not lose myself upon a subject of so great extent as that of fame, I Nor is fame only unsatisfying in itself, have treated it in a particular order and but the desire of it lays us open to many ac- method. I have first of all considered the cidental troubles which those are free from, reasons why Providence may have implantwho have not such a tender regard for it. ed in our minds such a principle of action. How often is the ambitious man cast down I have in the next place shown from many and disappointed, if he receives no praise considerations, first, that fame is a thing where he expected it? Nay, how often is difficult to be obtained, and easily lost; sehe mortified with the very praises he re-condly, that it brings the ambitious man ceives, if they do not rise so high as he very little happiness, but subjects him to thinks they ought; which they seldom do, much uneasiness and dissatisfaction. I shall unless increased by flattery, since few men in the last place show, that it hinders us have so good an opinion of us as we have from obtaining an end which we have of ourselves? But if the ambitious man can abilities to acquire, and which is accombe so much grieved even with praise itself,panied with fulness of satisfaction. I need

with which I acquit myself for this day, is written by one who proposes to improve our entertainments of dramatic poetry, and the other comes from three persons, who, as soon as named, will be thought capable of advancing the present state of music.

every grace it is capable of, and appears in | at present the reader shall have from my its full beauty and perfection. Thus we see correspondents. The first of the letters that none but the Supreme Being can esteem us according to our proper merits, since all others must judge of us from our outward actions; which can never give them a just estimate of us, since there are many perfections of a man which are not capable of appearing in actions; many which, allowing no natural incapacity of showing themselves, want an opportunity of doing it; or should they all meet with an opportunity of appearing by actions, yet those actions may be misinterpreted, and applied to wrong principles: or though they plainly discovered the principles from whence they proceeded, they could never show the degree, strength, and perfection of those principles.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am considerably obliged to you for your speedy publication of my last in yours of the 18th instant, and am in no small hopes of being settled in the post of Comptroller of the Cries. Of all the objections I have hearkened after in public coffee-houses, there is but one that seems to carry any weight with it, viz. That such a post would come too near the nature of a monopoly. Now, sir, because I would have And as the Supreme Being is the only all sorts of people made easy, and being proper judge of our perfections, so is he the willing to have more strings than one to my only fit rewarder of them. This is a con- bow: in case that of comptroller should fail sideration that comes home to our interest, me, I have since formed another project, as the other adapts itself to our ambition. which being grounded on the dividing of a And what could the most aspiring, or the present monopoly, I hope will give the most selfish man desire more, were he to public an equivalent to their full content, form the notion of a Being to whom he You know, sir, it is allowed, that the busiwould recommend himself, than such a ness of the stage is, as the Latin has it, knowledge as can discover the least ap- jucunda et idonea dicere vitæ. Now there pearance of perfection in him, and such a being but one dramatic theatre licensed for goodness as will proportion a reward to it? the delight and profit of this extensive meLet the ambitious man therefore turn all tropolis, I do humbly propose, for the conhis desire of fame this way; and that he venience of such of its inhabitants as are too may propose to himself a fame worthy of distant from Covent-garden, that another his ambition, let him consider, that if he theatre of ease may be erected in some employs his abilities to the best advantage, spacious part of the city; and that the directhe time will come when the Supreme Go- tion thereof may be made a franchise in fee vernor of the world, the great Judge of to me and my heirs for ever. And that the mankind, who sees every degree of perfec- town may have no jealousy of my ever comtion in others, and possesses all possible ing into a union with the set of actors now perfection in himself, shall proclaim his in being, I do further propose to constitute worth before men and angels, and pro- for my deputy my near kinsman and adnounce to him in the presence of the whole venturer, Kit Crotchet, whose long excreation that best and most significant of perience and improvements in those affairs applauses, 'Well done, thou good and faith-need no recommendation. It was obvious to ful servant, enter thou into thy master's joy.'

C.

every spectator, what a quite different foot the stage was upon during his government; and had he not been bolted out of his trapdoors, his garrison might have held out for

No. 258.] Wednesday, December 26, 1711. ever; he having by long pains and persever

Divide et impera.

Divide and rule.

PLEASURE and recreation of one kind or other are absolutely necessary to relieve cur minds and bodies from too constant attention and labour: where therefore public diversions are tolerated, it behoves persons of distinction, with their power and example, to preside over them in such a manner as to check any thing that tends to the corruption of manners, or which is too mean or trivial for the entertainment of reasonable creatures. As to the diversions of this kind in this town, we owe them to the arts of poetry and music. My own private opinion, with relation to such recreations, I have heretofore given with all the frankness imaginable; what concerns those arts

ance arrived at the art of making his army fight without pay or provisions. I must confess it is with a melancholy amazement, I see so wonderful a genius laid aside, and the late slaves of the stage now become its masters, dunces that will be sure to suppress all theatrical entertainments and activities that they are not able themselves to shine in!

'Every man that goes to a play is not obliged to have either wit or understanding; and I insist upon it, that all who go there should see something which may improve them in a way of which they are capable. In short, sir, I would have something done, as well as said, on the stage. A man may have an active body, though he has not a

* Christopher Rich.