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molt enriches when it overflows": but Manilius haviour, instead of adorning himself like the rest, had too perfect a taste of the pleasure of doing put on that day a plain fuit of clothes, and dressed good, ever to let it be out of his power ; 'and all his servants in the most costly gay habits he for that reason he will have a juit economy, could procure; the event was, that the eyes of the and a fplendid frugality at home, the fountain whole court were fixed upon him, all the rest lookfrom whence those streams should Aow which he ed like his attendants, whilst he alone had the air disperses abroad. He looks with disdain on those of a person of quality and distinction. who propose their death, as the time when they Like 'Aristippus, whatever shape or condition are to begin their munificence; he will both fee. he appears in, it ftill fits free and caly upon him ; and enjoy (which he then does in the highest but in some part of his character, it is true, he degree) what he bestows himself ; he will be the differs from him; for as he is altogether equal to living executor of his own bounty, whilst they the largeness of his present circunstances, the recwho have the happiness to be within his care titude of his judgment has so far corrected the inand patronage, at once pray for the continuation clinations of his ambition, that he will not trouble of his lite, and their own good fortune. No himself with either the desires or pursuits of any one is out of the reach of his obligations; he thing beyond his present enjoyments. knows how, by proper and becoming methods, to A thousand obliging things flow from him upon raise himself to a level with those of the highest
' every occasion, and they are always lo juít and rank; and his good nature is a sufficient warrant natural, that it is impossible to think he was at against the want of those who are so unhappy as the least pains to look for them. One would think to be in the very loweft. One may say of him as it was the demon of good thoughts that discovered Pindar bids his inufe fay of Theron.
to him those treasures, which he must have blind
ed others from seeing, they lay so directly in their Swear, that Theron sure has swore,
way. Nothing can equal the pleasure is taken No one near him should be ppor.
in hearing him speak, but the satisfaction one reSwear, that none e'er had such a graceful heart, ceives in the civility and attention he pays to the Fortune's free gifts as freely to impart,
discourse of others. His looks are a filent recomWith an unenvious hand, and an unbounded mendation of what is good and praise-worthy, heart.
and a secret reproof of what is licentious and ex
travagant. He knows how to appear free and Never did Atticus succeed better in gaining open without danger or intrusion, and to be cauthe univerfal love and esteem of all men ; nor tious without seeming reserved. The gravity of steer with more success betwixt the extremnes of his conversation is always, enlivened with his wit two contending parties. It is his peculiar happi- and humour, and the gaiety of it is tempered with ness, that while he espouses neither with an in- something that is instructive, as well as barely temperate zeal, he is not only admired, but what is agreeable. Thus with him you are sure not to a more rare and unusual felicity, he is loved and be merry at the expence of your reason, nor fecaressed by both ; and I never yet faw any person rious with the loss of your good-humour ; but, of whatsoever age or sex, but was immediately by a happy mixture of his temper, 'they either go ftruck with the merit of Manilius. There are together, or perpetually succeed each other. In many who are acceptable' to some particular per- fine, his whole behaviour is equally distant from fons, whilft the rest of mankind look upon them constraint and negligence, and he commands your with coldness and indifference; but he is the first respect, while he gains your heart. whose entire good fortune it is ever to please and There is in his whole carriage such an engaging to be pleased, wherever he comes to be adınired, softness, that one cannot persuade one's self he is and wherever he is absent to be lamented. His ever actuated by those 'rougher passions, which, merit fares like the pictures of Raphael, which wherever they find place, seldom fail of thewing are either feen with admiration by all, or ai icast themselves in the outward demeanor of the perno one dare own he has no taste for a composition fons they belong to: but his conftitution is a just which has received so universal an applause. En- temperature between indolence on the one hand vy and malice find it against their interest and violence on the other. He is mild and gentle, to indulge ilander and obloquy.
It is as wherever his affairs will give him leave to follow hard for an enemy to detract from, as for a friend his own inclinations ; but yet never failing ko to add to his praise. An attempt upon his repu, exert himself with vigour and resolution in the tation is a fure lessening, of one's own; and service of his prince, his country, or his friend. Z there is but one way to injure him, which is to refuse his just commendations, and to be obftinately filent.
It is below him to catch the fight with any N°, 468. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27. care of dress ; his outward garb is but the 'emblem Erat bomo ingeniofus, acutus, acer, & qui plurimum of his mind. It is genteel, plain, and un'affected ; he knows that gold and embroidery can add no.
& salis baberet & fellis, nec candoris minus,
Plin. Epift, thing to the opinion which all have of his merit, and that he gives a lustré to the plainest dress, whilft He was an ingenious, pleasant fellow, and one, it is impoflible the richest thould communicate who had a great deal of wit and satire, with any thing to him. He is still the principal figure an equal Mare of good-humour, in the room; he first engages your eye, as if there were some point of light which thone stronger Y paper is in a kind a letter of news upon him than on any other perfon.
but it regards rather what passes in the He puts me in mind of a story of the famous world of conversation than that of business. I Buffy d'Amboise, who at an affembly at court,
am very sorry that I have at present a circumwhere every one appeared with the utmot mags Itance before me, which is of very great impornificence; relying upon his own superior bee tanse to all who have a relith for gaiety, wit,
mirth, or humour; I mean the death of poor to let him lead the way in conversation, and play Dick Eastcourt. I have been obliged to him for after his own manner; but fools who provoked, so many hours of jollity, that it is but a small him to mimicry, found he had the indignation to récompence, though all I can give him, to pass let it be at their expence, who called for it, and a moment or two in sadness for the loss of ro a he would thew the form of conceited heavy fel. greeable a man. Poor Eastcourt! the last time. lows as jeits to the company at their own reI saw him, we were plotting to thew the town quest, in revenge for interrupting him from his great capacity of acting in its full light, by being a companion to put on the character of a introducing him as dictating to a sec of young jefter. players, in what manner to speak this sentence, What was peculiarly excellent in this memo. and utter the other passion-He had so exqui- rahle companion, was that in the accounts he site a discerning of what was defective in any gave of persons and sentiments, he did not only ohject before him, that in an instant he could hit the figure of their faces, and manner of new you the ridiculous fide of what would pass their gestures, but he would in his narration fall for beautiful and just, even to men of no ill into their very way of thinking, and this when judgment, before he had pointed at the failure, he recounted passages, wherein men of the best He was no less skilful in the knowledge of beau- wit are concerned, as well as such wherein were ty; and, I dare say, there is no one who knew represented men of the lowest rank of underhim well, but can repeat more well-turned fanding. It is certainly as great an instance of compliments, as well as smart repartees of Mr., self-love to a weakness, to be impatient of being Eastcourt's, than of any other man in England. mimicked, as any can be imagined. There This was easily to be observed in his inimitable were none but the vain, the formal, the proud, faculty of telling a story, in which he would or those that were incapable of amending their throw in natural and unexpected incidents to faults, that dreaded him; to others he was in make his court to one part, and rally the other the highest degree pleasing; and I do not know part of the company; then he would vary the any satisfaction of any indifferent kind I ever usage he gave them, according as he saw them 'tasted so much, as having got over an impatience bear kind or sharp language. He had the knack of my seeing myself in the air he could put me to raise up a penjive temper, and mortify an when I have displeafed him. It is indeed to his impertinently gay one, with the most agreeable excellent talent this way, more than any philo. skill imaginable. There are a thousand things fophy I could read on the subject, that my perfon which croud into my memory, which make me is very little of my care; and it is indifferent to too much concerned to tell on about him. me, what is said of my shape, my air, my.manHamlet holding up the skull which the grave ner, my speech, or my address. It is to poor digger threw, to him, with an account that it Eastcourt I chiefly owe that I am arrived at the was the head of the king's jefter, falls into very happiness of thinking nothing a diminution to pleasing reflections, and cries out to his com me, but what argues a depravity of my will. panion.
It has as much surprised me as any thing in · Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, nature, to have it frequently said, that he was sa fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent not a good player : but that must be owing to a (fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thou, partiality for foriner actors in the parts in which
fand times : and now how abhorred in my he succeeded them, and judging by compari' imagination is it! my gorge rises at it. Here fon of what was liked before, rather than by the "hung those lips that I have kissed I know not nature of the thing. - When a man of his wit and " how oft. Where be your gibes now, your gam- smartness could put on an utter absence of com• bols, your songs, your falhes of merriment mon sense in his face, as he did in the character " that were wont to set the table on a roar of Bullfinch, in the Northern Lass, and an air ( Not one now to mock your own grinning? of insipid cunning and vivacity in the character
quite chop-fallen? Now get you to my lady's of Pounce, in The Tender Husband, it is folly • chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch to dispute his capacity and success, as he was an " thick, to this favour the must come. Make actor. • her laugh at that.'
Poor Eastcourt ! let the vain and proud be at It is an insolence natural to the wealthy, to rest, they will no more disturb their admiration affix, as much as in them lies, the character of of their dear felves, and thou art no longer to a man to his circumstances. Thus it is ordinary drudge in raising the mirth of stupids, who with them to praise faintly the good qualities of know nothing of thy merit, for thy maintethose below them, and say, it is very extraordia „nance. nary in such a man as he is, or the like, when It is natural for the generality of mankind to they are forced to acknowledge the value of him run into reflections upon morality, when dis. whose lowness upbraids their exaltation. It is turbers of the world are laid at rest, but to take to this humour only, that it is to be ascribed, no notice when they who can please and divert that a quick wit in conversation, a nice judg- are pulled from us : but for my part, I cannot ment upon any emergency that could arise, and, but think the loss of such talents as the man of a moft blameless inoffensive behaviour could not whom I am speaking was master of, a more raise this man above being received only upon melancholy instance of mortality than the dirthe foot of contributing to mirth and diver- solution of persons of never so high characters in fion. But he was as easy under that constraint, the world, whose pretensions were that they as a man of so excellent talents was capable, were noisy and mischievous. and since they would have it, that to divert was But I must grow more succinct, and as a his business, he did it with all the seeming alac- . Spectator, give an account of this extraordinary rity imaginable, though it ftung him to the man, who, in his way, never had an equal in heart that it was his business. Men of sense who any age before him, or in that wherein he lived., could taste his excellencies, were well satisfied I speak of him as a companion, and a man qua.
lified for conversation. His fortune exposed him him, who are of a mean condition, and who
T is guilty of injustice To long as he defers it, The
difpatch of a good office is very often as benefi
cial to che folicitor as the good office itself. In No. 469. THURSDAY, Avgust 28.' mort, if a man compared the inconveniencies
which another suffers by his delays, with the Detrabere aliquid altering & bominem hominis incom feif may reap by such a delay, he would never
trifling motives and advantages which he himmodo fuum augere commodum, magis efl contra mas be guilty of a fault which very often does an turam, quàm murs, quàm paupertas, quam dolor, irreparable prejudice to the person who depends quam çetera que poljunt aut corpori accidere, aut
upon him, and which might be remedied' with rebus externisa.
Tult, little trouble to himself. To detract from other men, and turn their dif But in the last place, there is no man so imadvantages to our own profit, is more contra- proper to be employed in business, as he who is ty to nature, than death, poverty, or grief, or in any degree capable of corruption; and such any thing which can affect our bodies, or ex an one is the man, who upon any pretence whatternal circumitances,
soever, receives more than what is the stated
and unquestioned fee of his office. GratificaAM perfuaded there are few men, of gene- tions, tokens of thankfulness, dispatch money,
rous principles, who would seek after great and the like fpecious terms, are the pretences places, were it not rather to have an opportu- under which corruption very frequently shelters nity in their hands of chliging their particular itself. An honest man will however look on all friends, or those whom they look upon as men these methods as unjustifiable, and will enjoy of worth, than to procure wealth and honour himself better in a moderate fortune that is før theinfelves. To an honest mind the best gained with honour and reputation, than in an pierquisites of place are the advantages it gives overgrown estate that is cankered with the aca man of doing good.
quisition of rapine and exaction. Were all our Those who are under the great officers of offices discharged with such an inflexible integia Aate, and are the instruments by which they ac, rity, we should not see men in all ages, who have more frequent opportunities for the exer- grow up to exorbitant wealth with the abilities Life of compassion and benevolence, than their which are to be met with in an ordinary me. fuperiors themselves. These men know every chanic. I cannot but think that such a corrupljule cafe that is to come before the great man, tion proceeds chiefly from mens employing the and if they are pofleffed with honeft minds, will first that offer themselves, or those who have consider poverty as a recommendation in the the character of threwd worldly men, inftead of
perfon who applies himself to them, and make searching out such as have had a liberal educa-
plain them, or refuse doing a good office for a been used to find virtue extolled, and vice stig-
books, often give a man a figure in the world, A man is unfit for fuch a place of trust, who white feyeral qualities which are celebrated in is of a four untractable nature, or has any other authors, as generosity, ingenuity and good na. paflion that makes him uneasy to thofe who ture, impoverith and ruin him. This cannot approach him.' Roughness of temper is apt tờ but have a proportionabe effect on men, whose difcountenance the timorous or modest. The temper's and principles are equally good and proud man discourages those from approaching yicious.
There would be at least this advantage in em. ( Hourly I figh and hourly languish, ploying men of learning and parts in business, • Nor hope to find the wonted cure, that their prosperity would fit more gracefully For here the false unconstant lover, on them, and that we should not see many
After a thousand beauties Thown, worthless persons thot up into the greatest figures • Does new surprising charms discover, of life.
Stanza the first, verse the first, And chang, Turpe est difficiles babere nugas,
. ing.'] The and in some manuscripts is written Et Julius labor eft ineptiarum.
thus, &, but that in the Cotton library writes MART. Epig. 86. 1. 2. v. 9.
it in three diftinct letters.
Verse the second, “Nor e'er would.') Aldus 'Tis folly only, and defect of sense,
reads it, ever would ;' but as this would hurt Turns trifles into things of consequence. the metre, we have restored it to the genuine
reading, by observing that Synæresis which had Have been very often disappointed of late been neglected by ignorant transcribers.
years, when upon examining the new edition Ibid. 'In my heart.”] Scaliger and others, of a classic author, I have found above half the ' on my heart.' volume taken up with various readings. When Verse the fourth, 'I found a dart.'] The I have expected to meet with a learned note Vatican manuscript for I reads it ; but this upon a doubtiul pallage in a Latin poet, I have must have been the hallucination of the tranonly been informed, that such or such ancient scriber, who probably mistook the dath of the manuscripts for an et write an ac, or of fome I for a T. other notable discovery of the like importance. Stanza the second, verse the second, "The faIndeed, when a different reading gives us a a tal stroke.'] Scioppius, Salmasius, and many different sense, or a new elegance in an author, others, for tbe reada; but I have stuck to the the editor does very well in 'taking notice of it; usual reading: but when he only entertains us with the several Verse the third, “Till by her wit.'] Some ways of spelling the same word, and gathers to manuscripts have it bis wit, others your, others gether the various blunders and mistakes of twenty tbcir wit. But as I find Corinna to be the name or thirty different transcribers, they only take up of a woman in other authors, I cannot doubt the time of the learned reader, and puzzles the but it should be ber. mind of the ignorant. I have often fancied with Stanza the third, verse the first, 'A long and myself how-enraged an old Latin author would be ' lasting anguish.') The German manuscript should he see the several absurdities in sense and reads, ' a lasting paffion;' but the rhyme will grammar, which are imputed to him by some or not admit it. other of these various readings. In one he - Verse the second, 'For Belvidera I endure.'] speaks nonsense; in another makes use of a Did not all the manuscripts reclaim, I should word that was never leard of: and indeed there change Belvidera into Pelvidera; Pelvis being is scarce a solecism in writing which the best used by several of the ancient comic writers for author is not guilty of, if we may be at liberty a looking-glass, by which means the etymology to read him in the words of some manuscript, of the word is very visible, and Pelvidera will "which the laborious editor has thought fit to ex- fignify a lady, who often looks in her glass ; as amine in the prosecution of his work.
indeed she had very good reason, if she had all I question not but the ladies and pretty fel- those beauties which our poet here ascribes ta. . lows will be very curious to understand what it her. is that I have been hitherto talking of; I shall Verse the third, Hourly I figh, and hourly therefore give them a notion of this practice, by languish.'] Some for the word bourly read endeavouring to write after the manner of several daily, and others nigbtly; the last has great au. persons who make an eminent figure in the re thorities of its fide. public of letters. To this end we will fuppose Verse the fourth, “The wonted cure.'] The that the following song is an old ode, which I elder Stevens reads wanted cure. present to the public in a new edition, with the Stanza the fourth, verse the second, "After several various readings which I find of it in a thousand beauties.') in several copies we former editions, and in ancient manuscripts. meet with, ' a hundred beauties,' by the usual Those who cannot relish the various readings, error of the transcribers, who probably omitted will perhaps find their account in the song, a cypher, and had not tafte enough to know which never before appeared in print.
that the word thousand was ten times a greater
compliment to the poet's miftress than an hun. • My love was fickle once and changing,
dred. « Nor e'ér would settle in my heart;
Verse the fourth, 'And finds variety in one.'] • From beauty still to beauty ranging,
Most of the ancient manuscripts have it, 'in • In ev'ry face I found a dart,
• two,' Indeed so many of them concur in the
- last reading, that I am very much in doubt whe• 'Twas first a charming face enslav'd me, ther it ought not to take place. There are but . An eye then gave the fatal stroke:
two reasons which incline me to the reading as "Till by her wit Corinna fav'd me,
I have published it ; first, because the rhyme; "And all my former fetters broke.
and, secondly, because the fense is preserved by
+ it. It might likewise proceed from the ofcitan• But now a long and lasting anguish
cy of transcribers, who, to dispatch their work “For Belvidere I endure:
the fooner, used to write all numbers in cyphers,
And seeing the figure i followed by a little dalh estate in gratuities among!t his friends, one of of the per, as is customary in old manuscripts, them asked what he had left for himself; to they perhaps mistook the dash for a second figure, which that great man replied, Hope. His naand by casting up both together, composed out tural magnanimity hindered him from prizing of them the figure 2. But this I Mall leave to what he was certainly poffeffed of, and turned the learned, without determining any thing in a all his thoughts upon something more valuable matter of fo great uncertainty.
-C that he had in view. I question not but
every reader will draw a moral from this story,
and apply it to himself without my direction. N. 471. SATURDAY, AUGUST 30.
The old story of Pandora's box, which many
of the learned believe was formed among the Ε, ελπίσιν χρή τες σοφές έχειν βιον.
heathens upon the tradition of the fall of man, EURIPID. shews us how deplorable a state they thought
the present life, without Hope. To set forth The wise with hope support the pains of life. the utmost condition or misery they tell us, that
HE time present seldom affords sufficient pur forefather, according to the Pagan theology,
employment to the mind of man. Objects had a great vesel presented him by Pandora : of pain or pleasure, love or admiration, do not upon his lifting up the lid of it, says the fable, lie thick enough together in life to keep the soul there few out all the calamities and distempers in constant action, and supply an immediate ex incident to men, from which, until that time, ercise to its faculties. In order, therefore, to they had been altogether exempt. Hope, who remedy this defect, that the mind may not want had been inclosed in the cup with so much bad business, but always have materials for thinking company, instead of Aying off with the rest, the is endowed with certain powers, that can
stuck so close to the lid of it, that it was shut recal what is passed, and anticipate what is to
down upon her.
I shall make but two reflections upon what I That wonderful faculty, which we call the have hitherto said. First, that no kind of life memory, is perpetually looking back, when we is fo happy as that which is full of hope, espehave nothing present to entertain us. It is like cially when the hope is well grounded, and when those repositories in several animals that are the object of it is of an exalted kind, and in its filled with stores of their former food, on which nature proper to make the person happy who enthey may ruminate when their present pasture joys it. This proposition must be very evident fails.
to those who confider how few are the present As the memory relieves the mind in her va. enjoyments of the most happy man, and how cant moments, and prevents any chasms of insufficient to give him an intire satisfaction and thought by ideas of what is paft, we have other acquiescence in them. faculties that agitate and employ her upon what My next observation is this, that a religious is to come. These are the passions of hope and life is that which most abounds in a well-groundfear,
ed hope, and such an one as is fixed on objects By these two passions we reach forward into that are capable of making us entirely happy. futurity, and bring up to our present thoughts This hope in a religious man is much more sure objects that lie hid in the remotest depths of and certain than the hope of any temporal blestime. We suffer misery, and enjoy happiness, fing, as it is strengthened not only by reason, before they are in being; we can set the fun and but by faith. It has at the same time it's eye stars forward, or lose light of them by wander- perpetually fixed on that state, which implies in ing into those retired parts of eternity, when the the very notion of it the most full and the moft "heavens and earth shall be no more.
complete happiness. By the way, who can imagine that the exift. I have before Mewn how the influence of hope ence of a creature is to be circumscribed by time, in general (weerens life, and makes our present whose thoughts are not? Bụt I Mall, in this pas condition supportable, if not pleafing; but a reper, confine myself to that particular paflion ligious hope has still greater advantages. It does which goes by the name of Hope.
not only bear up the mind under her sufferings, Our actual enjoyments are fo few, and tran- but makes her rejoice in them, as they may be fient, that man would be a very miserable being, the instruments of procuring her the great and were he not endowed with this passion, which ultimate end of all her hope. gives him a taste of those good things that may Religious hope has likewise this advantage apossibly come into his poffeffion. • We should bove any other kind of hope, that it is able to re
hope for every thing that is good,' says the vive the dying man, and to fill his mind not onold poet Linus, because there is nothing which ly with fecret comfort and refreshment, but may not be hoped for, and nothing but what Tometimes with rapture and transport. He tri
the Gods are able to give us. Hope quickens 'umphis in his agonits, whilst the foul springs all the Ntill parts of life, and keeps the mind forward with delight to the great obje& which awake in her most remiss and indolent hours. She has always had in 'view, and leaves the body It gives habitual serenity and good humour. It with an expectation of being re-united to her in is a kind of vital heat in the soul, that cheers and a glorious and joyful resurrection." gladdens her, when she does not attend to it. I Thall conclude this essay with those embleIt makes pain easy, and labour pleasant. matical expressions of a lively hope, which the
Besides there several advantages which rise psalmist made use of in the midst of those danfrom Hope, there is another which is none of gers and adversities which surrounded him ; fer the least, and that is, its great efficacy in prę. The following passage had its present and personal, serving us from setting too high a value on pre- as well as its future and prophetic renfe.'í fent enjoyments. The saying of Cæsar is very I have set the Lord always 'before me because well known. When he had given away all his she is at my right hand I Thall not be more.no