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confined only in one place and made the property good man, asked his friends about him, with a of a fingle perfon?
peevishness that is natural to a sick perfon, where If writings are thus durable, and may pafs they had picked up such a blockhead? And whefrom age to age throughout the whole course of ther they thought him a proper person to attend time, how careful should an author be of com. one in his condition? The curate finding that mitting any thing to print that may corrupt po- the author did not expect to be dealt with as a sterity, and poison the minds of men with vice real and fincere penitent, but as a penitent of and error ? Writers of great talents, who employ importance, after a fhort admonition withdrew; their parts in propagating immorality, and foa not questioning but he fhould be again sent for foning vicious sentiments with wit and humour, if the fickness grew desperate. The author howare to be looked upon as the pests of society, ever recovered, and has fmce written two or and the enemies of mankind: they leave books three cther tracts with the same fpirit, and very rehind them, as it is said of those wlio die in luckily for his poor soul with the same success. distempers which breed an ill-will towards their
с own fpecies, to scatter infection and destroy thcir poftcrity. They act the counterparts of a Confucius or a Socrates; and seem to have been sent N° 167. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11. into the world to deprave human nature, and fink it into the condition of brutality.
Fuit baud ignobilis argis, I have seen some Roman-catholic authers, who Qui se credebat miros audire tragados, tell 15 that vicious writers continue in purgatory In vacuo lætus feffor plausorque tbcatro; so long as the influence of their writings con Catera qui vite servarat munia recto tinues upon pofterity: for purgatory, say they, More; bonus sinè vicinus, amabilis hofpes, is nothing elie but a cleansing us of our fins, Comis in uxorem ; pDet qui ignofcere fervis, which cannot be said to be done away, so long Et figno lafo non in anire lagene : as they continue to operate and corrupt man- Poljet qui rupem & puteum vitare patentem, lind. The vicious author, say they, fins after Hic ubi cognatorum opibus curisque refeétus death, and so long as he continues to fin, so long Expulit elleboro morbum bilemque meraco, must he expect to be punized. Though the Et redit ad fefe; pol me occidiffis, amici, Roman-catholic nction of purgatory be indeed Non fervaftis, ait ; cui fic extorta voluptas, very ridiculous, one cannot but think that if the Et demptus per vim mentis gratifimus error. foul after death has any knowledge ef what passes
HOR. Ep. 2. 1. 2. V. 128, in this world, that of an immoral wiiter would
IMITATED. reciive much raore regret froin the sense of corrupting, than fatisfaction from the thought of There lived in Primo Georgii, they record, picasing his surviving admirers.
A worthy member, no small fool, a lord; To take off from the severity of this specula- Who, though the house was up, delighted fate, tion, I Mall conclude this paper with a fory of Heard, noted, answer'd, as in full debate; an atheistical author, who at a time when he lay in all but this, a man of sober life, dangerously sick, and had desired the affifiance Fond of his friend, and civil to his wife; of a neighbouring curate, confessed to him with Not quite a madman, though a pasty fell, great contrition, that nothing sat more heavy at
And much too wise to walk into a well. his heart than the senfe of his having seduced the him the damn'd doctor and his friends immurd; age by lis writings, and that their evil influence They bled, they cupp’d, they purg’d, in short was likely to continue even after his death. The
they cur'd; curate upon farther examination, finding the Whereat the gentleman began to starem
for penitent in the utin st agonies of despair, and My friends ? he cry'd: pox
your care! being himself a man of learning, told him, that That from a patriot of diftinguish'd note, he hoped his case v'as not so desperate as he Have bied and purg'd me to a simple vote. apprehended, since he found that he was so very fenuble of his fault, and so sincerely repented of HE unhappy force of an imagination, unit. The penitent still urged the evil tendency of his book to subvert all religion, and the little ment, was the subject of a former speculation. ground of hope there could be for one whose My reader may remember that he has seen in one writings would continue to do mischief when of my papers a complaint of an unfortunate genhis body was laid in alhes. The curate, finding tleman, who was unable to contain himself, when no otlicr way to comfort him, told him, that he any ordinary matter was laid before him, from did well in being amicted for the evil deign with adding a few circumstances to enliven plain narwhich he published his book; but that he ought rative. That correspondent was a person of tou to be very than'stul that there was no danger of warm a complexion to be satisfied with things its doing any hurt: that his cause was so very merely as they stood in nature, and therefore bad, and bis argumeüts so weak, that he did formed incidents which should have happened to not apprehend any ill ettoets of it: in short, that have pleased him in the story, The fame unhe might rett satisfied his book could do no more governed fancy which puihed that correspondent m.ischief after his death, than it had done whilst on, in spite of himself, to relate public and no. he was living. To which he added, for his far- torious falfoods, makes the author of the fol. ther satisfaction, that he did not believe any be- lowing letter do the same in private; one is a lides his particular friends and acquaintance had prating, the other a filent liar. ever been at the pains of reading it, or that any There is little pursued in the errors of either body after his death would ever inquire after it. of these worthies, but mere present amusement : The dying man bad ftill so much the frailty of but the folly of him who lets his fancy place him an author in him, as to be cut to the licart with in citant scenes untroubled and uninterrupted, thufe confclations; and without answering the is very much preferable to that of him who is
ever forcing a belief, and defending his untruths fame moment I have been pulled by the Neeve, with new inventions. Lut I Mall hasten to let
my crown has fallen from my head. The ill this liar in soliloquy, who calls himself a Castle consequence of these reveries is inconceivably Builder, describe himself with the same unre great, seeing the loss of imaginary poitenlions servedness as formerly appeared in my correspon- ' makes impressions of real woe. Besides, had dent abovementioned. If a man were to be re @conomy is visible and apparent in builders of rious on this subject, he might give very grave ' invisible mansions. My tenants advertisements admonitions to those who are following any of ruins and dilapidations often cast a damp thing in this life, on which they think to place on my spirits, even in the instant when the sun, their hearts, and tell them that they are really ' in all its splendor, giids my eastern palaces. Castle-Builders. Fame, glory, wealth, honour • Add to this the pensive drudgery in building, have in the prospect pleasing illusions; but they ' and constant grasping aerial trowels, distracts who come to possess any of them will find they and thatters the mind, and the fond builder of are ingredients towards happiness, to be regarded ( Babels is often cursed with an incoherent di. only in the second place; and that when they'versity and confufion of thoughts. I do not are valued in the first degree they are as dis know to whom I can more properly apply myappointing as any of the phantoms in the fol self for relief from this fantastical evil, than to lowing letter.
yourself; whom I earnestly implore to accom
modate me with a method how to settle my "Mr. Spe Etator,
Sept, 6. 1711. head and cool my brain-pan. A differtation on AM a fellow of a very odd frame of mind, Castle-building may not only be serviceable to
as you will find by the sequel; and think myself, but all architects, who display their skill < myself fool enough to deserve a place in your in the thin element. Such a favour would
paper. I am unhappily far gone in building, . oblige me to make my next soliloquy not con' and am one of that species of men who are tain the praises of my dear felf but of the Spe• properly denominated Castle - builders, who tators who Thall, by complying with this, make i scorn to be beholden to the earth for a founda• tion, or dig in the bowels of it for materials; T
* His obliged, humble servant, < but erect their structures in the most unstable
« Vitruvius.' of elements, the air, fancy alone laying the line,
marking the extent, and shaping the model. It
palaces and stately porticos have grown under
Hor. Ep. 1. 1. 2. V. 128.
POPE, • I have grasped imaginary sceptres, and delivered ¢ uncontroulable edicts, from a throne to which Twould be arrogance to neglect the appli
conquered nations yielded obeifance. I have cation of my correspondents so far, as not « made I know not how many inroads into sometimes to insert their animadversions 'upon • France, and ravaged the very heart of that king. my paper; that of this day shall be therefore • dom; I have dined in the Louvre, and drank wholly composed of the hints which they have • champagne at Versailles ; and I would have you fent me. • take notice, I am not only able to vanquish a " people already cowed and accustomed to flight,
(Mr. Spectator, • but I could, Almonzor-like, drive the British
Send you this to congratulate your late • general from the field, were I less a protestant, choice of a subject, for treating on which ( or had ever been affronted by the confederates. you deserve public thanks; I mean that on • There is no art or profession, whose most cele those licensed tyrants the school-masters. 12 • brated masters I have not eclipsed. Wherever you can disarm them of their rods, you will " I have afforded my falutary presence, fevers I certainly have your old age reverenced by all • have ceased to burn, and agues to shake the hus the young gentlemen of Great-Britain who are
man fabric. When an eloquent fit has been ( now between seven and seventeen years. You upon me, an apt gesture and proper cadence may boast that the incomparably wise Quintia has arimated each sentence, and gazing crowds lian and you are of one mind in this particular. have found their passions worked up into rage, « Si cui eft,” says he, “ mens tam illiberalis ut or foothed into a calm. I am fhort, and not « objurgatione non corrigatur, is etiam ad pla..
yery well made; yet upon sight of a fine woman, gas, ut peffima quæque mancipia durabitur:' • I have stretched into a proper stature, and killed i. e. “ If any child be of lo disingenuous a nau
with a good air and mein. These are the gay “ ture, as not to stand corrected by reproof, he,
phantoms that dance before my waking eyes “ like the very worst of slaves, will be hardened • and compose my day-dreams. I should be the « even against blows themselves.” And after
most contented happy man alive, were the chi (wards, “ Pudet dicere in quæ probra nefandi • merical happiness which springs from the paint. “ homines ifto cædendi jure abutantur:” i e.
ings of fancy less fleeting and transitory. But " I blush to say how shamefully those wicked alas! it is with grief of mind I tell you, the “ men abuse the power of correction.”
least breath of wind has often demolished my " I was bred myself, Sir, in a very great school, ( magnificent edifices, swept away my groves,
r of which the master was a Weishman, but " and left no more trace of them than if they had certainly descended from a Spanish family, as
never been. My exchequer has funk and va plainly appeared from his temper as well as nished by a rap on my door, the falutation of a
( his name.
I leave you to judge what a sort of s friend has cost me a whole continent, and in the a: school-mafter a Welshinan ingrafted on a
paniand would make. So very dreadful had ' and are so full of themselves as to give distura he made himself to me, that although it is 'bance to all that are about them. Soinetimes • above twenty years fince I felt his heavy hand, you have a set of whisperers who lay their heads
yet ftill once a month at least I dream of him, together in order to sacrifice every body within • 10 strong an impression did he make on my their observation; sometimes a set of laughers, (mind. It is a fign lie has fully terrified ine ' that keep up an infipid mirth in their own corvaking, who still continues to haunt me seep ner, and by their noise and gestures Thew thcy
have no' respect for the rest of the eompany. may say without vanity, that the You frequently meet with these fets at the "bugners of the school was what I did without opera, the play, the water-works, and other « prest dificulty; and I was not remarkably un public mectings, where their whole business is
lucky; and yet such was the master's severity, to draw off the attention of the spectators from " that once a month, or oftener, I suffered as the entertainment, and to fix it upon them. 6 much as would have satisfied the law of the selves; and it is to be observed that the imperland for a Petty Larceny.
• tinence is ever loudest, when the set happens Many a white and tender hand, which the "to be made up of three or four females who fond mother had passionately kissed a thousand ' have got what you call a woman's man among cand a thousand times, have I seen whipped un«til it was covered with blood : perhaps for "I am at a loss to know from whom people rfmiling, or for gcing a yard and half out of a of fortune should Icarn this behaviour, unless
gate, or for writing an () for an A, or an A for it be from the footmen who keep their places
an 0 : these were our great faults! Many a at a new play, and are often seen passing away • brave and noble spirit has been there broken! their time in fets at all-fours in the face of a ( others have run from thence and were never full house, and with a perfect disregard to the * heard of afterwards. It is a worthy attempt to people of quality sitting on each side of them. 6 undertake the cause of distressed youth: and it . For preserving therefore the decency of pub• is a noble piece of knight-errantry to enter the lic assemblies, methinks it would be bút rea
lifts against so many armed pedagogues. It is sonable that those who disturb others mould
pity but we had a set of men, polite in their pay at least a double price for their places; or « behaviour and method of teaching, who should (rather women of birth and distinction thould be
be put into a condition of being above fiatter 'informed, that a levity of behaviour in the eyes
ing or ftaring the parents of those they instruct. of people of understanding degrades them below « We might then poflibiy fee learning become a • their meanest attendants; and gentlemen Mhould
pleasure, and children delighting themselves in know that a fine coat is a livery, when the pero that which now they abhor for coming upon son who wears it discovers no higher sense than « such hard terms to them, what would be still ( that of a footman. I am, a greater happiness arising from the care of
Sir, your most humble servant,' < such instructors, would be, that we should have no more pedants, nor any bred to learning who
Bedfordshire, Sept. 1, 1711. « had not genius for it. I am, with the utmost
* Mr. Spectator, < fincerity,
AM one of those whom every body calls
a poacher, and sometimes go out to course
with a brace of grey hounds, a mastiff, and a Richmond, Sept. 5th, 1711. • spaniel or two; and when I am weary with < Mr. Spectator,
- coursing, and have killed hares enough, go to AM a boy of fourteen years of age, and have an alehouse to refresh myself. I beg the favour
for this last year been under the tuition of a of you, as you set up for a reformer, to send us « doctor of divinity, who has taken the school of ( word how many dogs you will allow us to go (this piace under his care. From the gentle with, how many full-pots of ale to drink,
man's great tenderness to me and friendship to and how many hares to kill in a day, and you
my father, I am very happy in learning my book will do a great piece of service to all the sports(with pleasure. We never leave off our diver men: be quick then, for the time of courfing fions any farther than to falute him at hours of
is come on, play when he pleases to look on.
It is impor
« Yours in haste, « lible for any of us to love our own parents bet- T
* Ifaac Hedgeditcb;' ter than we do him. He never gives any of us
an harsh word; and we think it the statest N° 169. THURSDAY, SEPT. 13. < punishment in the world when he will not « speak to any of us. My brother and I are both Sic vita erat: facilè omnes perferre ac pati
together inditing this letter : he is a year older Cum quibus erat cunque unà, bis Sefe dedere, • than I am, but is now ready to break his heart Eorum obsequi ftudiis : advor sus nemini ; " that the doctor lias not taken any nutice of him Nunquam præponens se aliis : Ita facillimè « those three days. If you please to print this he Sine invidia invenias laudem.will fec it, and, we hope, taking it for my bro
Ter. Andr. Act, 1. Sc. í. ther's earnest desire to be restored to his favour, His manner of life was this: to bear with every « he will again fmile upon him.
body's humours; to comply with the inclinaYour most obedient servant, T."S.'
tions and pursuits of those he conversed with; Mr. Spectator,
to contradict nobody; never to assume a supe. OÜ have represented several sorts of im
riority over others. This is the ready way to procced, and describe fome of them in sets.
gain applause, without exciting envy.
It • often happens in public affemblies, that a party AN is subject to innumerable pains and
sorrows, by the very condition of humanencies are of an equal pitch, act in concert, nity, and yet, as if nature had not fown evils
"Your mof affe&ionate humble fervant. I
enough in life, we are continually adding grief could not have entered into the imagination to grief, and aggravating the common calamity of a writer, who had not a foul filled with great by our cruel treatment of one another. Every ideas, and a general benevolence to mankind. man's natural weight of afflictions is still made In that celebrated passage of Saluft, where Cælar more heavy by the envy, malice, treachery, and Cato are placed in such beautiful, but oppo. or injustice of his neighbout. At the same time site lights; Cæsar's character is chiefly made up of that the storm beats upon the whole species, we good-nature, as it thewed itself in all its forms are falling foul upon one another.
towards his friends or his enemies, his servants Half the misery of human life might be ex or dependents, the guilty or the distressed. As tinguished, would men allievate the general curse for Cato's character, it is rather awful than amithey lie under, by mutual offices of compassion, able. Justice seems most agreeable to the nature benevolence, and humanity. There is nothing of God, and mercy to that of man. A Being therefore which we ought more to encourage in who has nothing to pardon in himself, may reourselves and others, than that disposition of ward every man according to his works; but he mind which in our language goes under the title whose very best actions must be seen with grains of good-nature, and which I Mall choose for the of allowance, cannot be too mild, moderate, subject of this day's speculation.
and forgiving. For this reason, among all the Good-nature is more agreeable in conversation monstrous characters in human nature, there is than wit, and gives a certain air to the counte none so odious, nor indeed so exquisitely ridinance which is more amiable than beauty. It culous, as that of a rigid fevere temper in a Thews virtue in the faireft light, takes off in some worthless man. measure from the deformity of vice, and makes This part of good-nature, however, which even folly and impertinence supportable. consists in the pardoning and overlooking of
There is no fociety or conversation to be kept faults, is to be exercised only in doing ourselves up in the world without good-nature, or fome- justice, and that too in the ordinary commerce thing which must bear its appearance, and and occurrences of life; for in the public admifupply its place. For this reason mankind have nistrations of justice, mercy to one may be cruelbeen forced to invent a kind of artificial hu- ty to others. manity, which is what we express by the word It is grown almost into a maxim, that goodgood-breeding. For if we examine thoroughly natured men are not always men of the most
the idea of what we call so, we mall find it wit. This observation, in my opinion, has no • to be nothing else but an imitation and mimic foundation in nature. The greatest wits I have
cry of good-nature, or in other terms, affabi conversed with are men eminent for their hulity, complaisance and easiness of temper re manity. I take therefore this remark to have duced into an art.
been occasioned by two reasons. First, because These exterior shows and appearances of hu- ill. nature among ordinary observers passes for manity render a man wonderfully popular and wit. A spiteful saying gratifies so many little beloved when they are founded upon a real pasions in those who hear it, that it generally good-nature; but without it are like hypocrisy meets with a good reception. The laugh rises in religion, or a bare form of holiness, which upon it, and the man who utters it, is Tooked when it is discovered, makes a man more de- upon as a shrewd satirist. This may be one rea.. testable than professed impiety.
son, why a great many pleasant companies apGood-nature is generally born with us; health, pear so surprisingly dull, when they have enprosperity and kind treatment froin the world deavoured to be merry in print; the public beare great cherishers of it where they find it; ing more just than private clubs or assemblies, but nothing is capable of forcing it up, where in distinguishing between wliat is wit and what it does not grow of itself. It is one of the is ill-nature. bleflings of a happy conftitution, which edu Another reason why the good-natured man cation may improve but not produce.
may sometimes bring his wit in question, is, Xenophon in the life of his imaginary prince, perhaps, because he is apt to be moved with whom he describes as a pattern for real ones, compaffion for those misfortunes or infirmities, is always celebrating the philanthropy or good- which another would turn into ridicule, and by nature of his hero, which he tells us he brought that means gain the reputation of a wit. The into the world with him, and gives many re ill-natured man, though bui of equal parts, gives markable instances of it in his childhood, as himself a larger field to expatiate in; le exposes well as in all the several parts of his life, Nay, those failings in human nature which the other on his death-bed, he describes him as being would cast a veil over, laughs at vices which the pleased, that while his soul returned to him other either excuses or conceals, gives utterance who made it, his body should incorporate with to reflections which the other stiftes, falls indifthe great mother of all things, and by that ferently upon friends or enemies, exposes the means become beneficial to mankind.
For person who has obliged him, and, in Nort, sticks which : cafon, he gives his sons a politive order at nothing that may establish his character of a not to enshrine it in gold or silver, but to lay wit. It is no wonder thercfore he succeeds in it it in the earth as soon as the lise was gone better than the man of huinanity, as a person cut of it.
who makes use of indirea methods is more likely An instance of such an overflowing of hu to grow rich than the fair trader, manity, such an exuberant love to mankind
The End of the SECOND VOLUME,