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<header>
<title>The Spectator</title>
  <number>no. 194</number>
  <date>1711-10-12</date>
  <author>Richard Steele</author>
  <quotation>Difficilli Bile Tumet Jecur.--- Hor.<link name="(*)" url="http://meta.montclair.edu/latintexts/horace/odes/Iliber13.xml"></link></quotation>
  <translation>Hor. I Ode xiii. 4.</translation>
  <translation>With jealous pangs my bosom swells.</translation>
  </header>
<text>
<paragraph>THE present Paper shall consist of two Letters,
which observe upon Faults that are easily cured both in Love and
Friendship. In the latter, as far as it meerly regards
Conversation, the Person who neglects visiting an agreeable Friend
is punished in the very Transgression; for a good Companion is not
found in every Room we go into. But the Case of Love is of a more
delicate Nature, and the Anxiety is inexpressible if every little
Instance of Kindness is not reciprocated. There are Things in this
Sort of Commerce which there are not Words to express, and a Man
may not possibly know how to represent, what yet may tear his Heart
into ten thousand Tortures, To be grave to a Man's Mirth,
unattentive to his Discourse, or to interrupt either with something
that argues a Disinclination to be entertained by him, has in it
something so disagreeable, that the utmost Steps , which may be
made in further Enmity cannot give greater Torment. The gay
<italic>Corinna,</italic> who sets up for an Indifference and becoming Heedlessness,
gives her Husband all the Torment imaginable out of meer Insolence,
with this peculiar Vanity, that she is to look as gay as a Maid in
the Character of a Wife. It is no Matter what is the Reason of a
Man's Grief, if it be heavy as it is. Her unhappy Man is convinced
that she means him no Dishonour, but pines to Death because she
will not have so much Deference to him as to avoid the Appearances
of it. The Author of the following Letter is perplexed with an
Injury that is in a Degree yet less criminal, and yet the Source of
the utmost Unhappiness.</paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>Mr.</italic> SPECTATOR,</paragraph>
<paragraph>I have read your Papers which relate to Jealousy, and desire your Advice in my Case, which
you will say is not common. I have a Wife, of whose Virtue I am not
in the least doubtful; yet I cannot be satisfied she loves me,
which gives me as great Uneasiness as being faulty the other Way
would do. I know not whether I am not yet more miserable than in
that Case, for she keeps Possession of my Heart, without the Return
of hers. I would desire your Observations upon that Temper in some
Women, who will nut condescend to convince their Husbands of their
Innocence or their Love, but are wholly negligent of what
Reflections the poor Men make upon their Conduct (so they cannot
call it Criminal,) when at the same time a little Tenderness of
Behaviour, or Regard to shew an Inclination to please them, would
make them Entirely at Ease. Do not such Women deserve all the
Misinterpretation which they neglect to avoid? Or are they not in
the actual Practice of Guilt, who care not whether they are thought
guilty or not? If my Wife does the most ordinary thing, as visiting
her Sister, or taking the Air with her Mother, it is always carried
with the Air of a Secret: Then she will sometimes tell a thing of
no Consequence, as if it was only Want of Memory made her conceal
it before; and this only to dally with my Anxiety. I have
complained to her of this Behaviour in the gentlest Terms
imaginable, and beseeched her not to use him, who desired only to
live with her like an indulgent Friend, as the most morose and
unsociable Husband in the World. It is no easy Matter to describe
our Circumstance, but it is miserable with this Aggravation, That
it might be easily mended, and yet no Remedy endeavoured. She reads
you, and there is a Phrase or two in this Letter which she will
know came from me. If we enter into an Explanation which may tend
to our future Quiet by your Means, you shall have our joint Thanks:
In the mean time I am (as much as I can in this ambiguous Condition
be anything)</paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>SIR,</italic></paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>Your humble Servant.</italic></paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>Mr.</italic> SPECTATOR,</paragraph>
<paragraph>Give me Leave to make you a Present of a Character not yet described in your
Papers, which is that of a Man who treats his Friend with the same
odd Variety which a Fantastical Female Tyrant practises towards her
Lover. I have for some time had a Friendship with one of these
Mercurial Persons: The Rogue I know loves me, yet takes Advantage
of my Fondness for him to use me as he pleases. We are by Turns the
best Friends and the greatest Strangers imaginable; Sometimes you
would think us inseparable; at other Times he Avoids me for a long
Time, yet neither he nor I know why. When we meet next by Chance,
he is amazed he has not seen me, is impatient for an Appointment
the same Evening: and when I expect he should have kept it, I have
known him slip away to another Place; where he has sat reading the
News, when there is no Post; smoaking his Pipe, which he seldom
cares for; and staring about him in Company with whom he has had
nothing to do, as if he wondered how he came there.</paragraph>
<paragraph>That I may state my Case to you the more fully, I shall transcribe some short
Minutes I have taken of him in my Almanack since last Spring; for
you must know there are certain Seasons of the Year, according to
which, I will not say our Friendship, but the Enjoyment of. it
rises or falls. In <italic>March</italic> and <italic>April</italic> he was as various as the
Weather; In <italic>May</italic> and part of <italic>June</italic> I found him the sprightliest
best-humoured Fellow in the World; In the Dog-Days he was much upon
the Indolent; In <italic>September</italic> very agreeable but very busy; and since
the Glass fell last to changeable, he has made three Appointments
with me, and broke them everyone. However I have good Hopes of him
this Winter, especially if you will lend me your Assistance to
reform him, which will be a great Ease and Pleasure to,</paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>October 9,</italic>  1711.</paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>SIR, Your most humble Servant.</italic></paragraph>
<paragraph>T.</paragraph>
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