hero in the ninth book of Dryden's Virgil you to publish the following erratum: In I shall add two other letters on different subjects to fill up my paper. 'Mr. Spectator,—I am a country clergyman, and hope you will lead me your assistance in ridiculing some little indecencies which cannot so properly be exposed from the pulpit. A widow lady who straggled this summer from London into my parish for the benefit of the air, as she says, appears every Sunday at church with many fashionable extravagances, to the great astonishment of my congregation. But what gives us the most offence is her theatrical manner of singing the Psalms. She introduces above fifty Italian airs into the hundredth psalm; and whilst we begin "All people,” in the old solemn tune of our forefathers, she in a quite different key runs divisions on the vowels, and adorns them with the graces of Nicolini: if she meets with "eke" or "aye," which are frequent in the metre of Hopkins and Sternhold, we are certain to hear her quavering them half a minute after us, to some sprightly airs of the opera. I am very far from being an enemy to church music; but fear this abuse of it may make my parish ridiculous, who already look on the singing psalms as an entertainment, and not part of the devotion: besides, I am apprehensive that the infection may spread; for 'Squire Squeekum, who by his voice seems (if I may use the expression) to be cut out for an Italian singer, was last Sunday practising the same airs. 'I know the lady's principles, and that she will plead the toleration, which (as she fancies) allows her non-conformity in this particular; but I beg of you to acquaint her, that singing the Psalms in a different tune from the rest of the congregation, is a sort of schism not tolerated by that act. I am, sir, your very humble servant, R. S.' "MR. SPECTATOR,-In your paper upon temperance, you prescribe to us a rule of drinking, out of Sir William Temple, in the following words: "The first glass for myself, the second for my friends, the third for good-humour, and the fourth for mine enemies." Now, sir, you must know, that I have read this your Spectator, in a club whereof I am a member; when our president told us there was certainly an error in the print, and that the word glass should be bottle; and therefore has ordered me to inform you of this mistake, and to desire Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit, A Diis plura feret- -Hor. Lib. 3. Od. xvi. 21 They that do much themselves deny, Receive more blessings from the sky.-Creech. THERE is a call upon mankind to value and esteem those who set a moderate price upon their own merit; and self-denial is frequently attended with unexpected blessings, which in the end abundantly recompense such losses as the modest seem to suffer in the ordinary occurrences of life. The curious tell us, a determination in our favour or to our disadvantage is made upon our first appearance, even before they know any thing of our characters, but from the intimations men gather from our aspect. A man, they say, wears the picture of his mind in his countenance; and one man's eyes are spectacles to his, who looks at him to read his heart. But though that way of raising an opinion of those we behold in public is very fallacious, certain it is, that those, who by their words and actions take as much upon themselves, as they can but barely demand in the strict scrutiny of their deserts, will find their account lessen every day. A modest man preserves his charac ter, as a frugal man does his fortune; if either of them live to the height of either, one will find losses, the other errors, which he has not stock by him to make up. It were therefore a just rule, to keep your desires, your words, and actions, within the regard you observe your friends have for you, and never, if it were in a man's power, to take as much as he possibly might, either in preferment or reputation. My walks have lately been among the mercantile part of the world; and one gets phrases naturally from those with whom one converses. I say, then, he that in his air, his treatment of others, or an habitual arrogance to himself, gives himself credit for the least article of more wit, wisdom, goodness, or valour, than he can possibly produce if he is called upon, will find the world break in upon him, and consider him as one who has cheated them of all the esteem they had before allowed him. This brings a commission of bankruptcy upon him; and he that might have gone on to his life's end in a prosperous way, by aiming at more than he should, is no longer proprietor of what he really had before, but his pretensions fare as all things do which are torn instead of being divided. There is no one living would deny Cinna the applause of an agreeable and facetious wit; or could possibly pretend that there is not something inimitably unforced and diverting in his manner of delivering all his sentimens in his conversation, if he were | chantments by which all the world are beable to conceal the strong desire of applause which he betrays in every syllable he utters. But they who converse with him, see that all the civilities they could do to him, or the kind things they could say to him, would fall short of what he expects; and therefore, instead of showing him the esteem they have for his merit, their reflections turn only upon that they observe he has of it himself. witched) are to him uncommon benefits and new acquisitions. Health is not eaten up with care, nor pleasure interrupted by envy. It is not to him of any consequence what this man is famed for, or for what the other is prefered. He knows there is in such a place an uninterrupted walk; he can meet in such a company an agreeable conversation. He has no emulation, he is no man's rival, but every man's well-wisher; can look at a prosperous man, with a pleasure in reflecting that he hopes he is as his fortune (as far as prudence will allow) open to the unhappy and to the stranger. If you go among the women, and behold Gloriana trip into a room with that theatrical ostentation of her charms, Mir-happy as himself: and has his mind and tilla with that soft regularity in her motion, Chloe with such an indifferent familiarity, Corinna with such a fond approach, and Lucceius has learning, wit, humour, eloRoxana with such a demand of respect in quence, but no ambitious prospects to purthe great gravity of her entrance; you find sue with these advantages, therefore to the all the sex who understand themselves and ordinary world he is perhaps thought to act naturally, wait only for their absence, want spirit, but known among his friends to tell you that all these ladies would im- to have a mind of the most consummate pose themselves upon you; and each of greatness. He wants no man's admiration, is them carry in their behaviour a conscious- in no need of pomp. His clothes please him ness of so much more than they should if they are fashionable and warm; his compretend to, that they lose what would other-panions are agreeable if they are civil and wise be given them. well-natured. There is with him no occasion for superfiuity at meals, for jollity in company; in a word, for any thing extraordinary to administer delight to him. Want of prejudice, and command of appetite, are the companions which make his journey of life so easy, that he in all places meets with more wit, more good cheer, and more good humour, than is necessary to make him enjoy himself with pleasure and satisfaction. T. 1 remember the last time I saw Macbeth, I was wonderfully taken with the skill of the poet, in making the murderer form fears to himself from the moderation of the prince whose life he was going to take away. He says of the king: He bore his faculties so meekly;' and justly inferred from thence, that all divine and human power would join to avenge his death, who had made such an abstinent use of dominion. All that is in a man's power to do to advance his own pomp and glory, and forbears, is so much laid up against the day No. 207.] Saturday, October 27, 1711. of distress; and pity will always be his portion in adversity, who acted with gentleness in prosperity. The great officer who foregoes the advantages he might take to himself, and renounces all prudential regards to his own person in danger, has so far the merit of a volunteer; and all his honours and glories are unenvied, for sharing the common fate with the same frankness as they do, who have no such endearing circumstances to part with. But if there were no such considerations as the good effect which selfdenial has upon the sense of other men towards us, it is of all qualities the most desirable for the agreeable disposition in which it places our own minds. I cannot tell what better to say of it, than that it is the very contrary of ambition; and that modesty allays all those passions and inquietudes to which that vice exposes us. He that is moderate in his wishes from reason and choice, and not resigned from sourness, distaste, or disappointment, dou bles all the pleasures of his lui The air, the season, a sunshiny day, or a fair prospect, are instances of happiness, and that which he enjoys in common with all the world, (by his exemption from the en Omnibus in terris, quæ sunt a Gadibus usque Look round the habitable world, how few In my last Saturday's paper I laid down some thoughts upon devotion in general, and shall here show what were the notions of the most refined heathens on this subject, as they are represented in Plato's dialogue upon prayer, entitled Alcibiades the Second, which doubtless gave occasion to Juvenal's tenth satire, and to the second satire of Persius; as the last of these authors has almost transcribed the preceding dialogue, entitled Alcibiades the First, in his fourth satire. The speakers, in this dialogue upon prayer, are Socrates and Alcibiades; and the substance of it (when drawn together out of the intricacies and digressions) as follows Socrates meeting his pupil Alcibiades, as he was going to his devotions, and observ ing his eyes to be fixed upon the earth with great seriousness and attention, tells him, that he had reason to be thoughtful on that occasion, since, it was possible for a man to bring down evils upon himself by his own prayers, and that those things which the gods send him in answer to his petitions, might turn to his destruction. This, says he, may not only happen when a man prays for what he knows is mischievous in its own nature, as Oedipus implored the gods to sow dissention between his sons; but when he prays for what he believes would be for his good, and against what he believes would be to his detriment. This the philosopher shows must necessarily happen among us, since most men are blinded with ignorance, prejudice,, or passion, which hinder them from seeing such things as are really beneficial to them. For an instance, he asks Alcibiades, whether he would not be thoroughly pleased and satisfied if that god, to whom he was going to address himself, should promise to make him the sovereign of the whole earth! Alcibiades answers, that he should, doubtless, look upon such a promise as the greatest favour that could be bestowed upon him. Socrates then asked him, if after receiving this great favour he would be contented to lose his life? Or if he would receive it though he was sure he should make an ill use of it? To both which questions Alcibiades answers in the negative. Socrates then shows him, from the examples of others, how these might very probably be the effects of such a blessing. He then adds, that other reputed pieces of good-fortune, as that of having a son, or procuring the highest post in a government, are subject to the like fatal consequences; which nevertheless, says he, men ardently desire, and would not fail to pray for, if they thought their prayers might be effectual for the obtaining of them. Having established this great point, that, all the most apparent blessings in this life are obnoxious to such dreadful consequences, and that no man knows what in its event would prove to him a blessing or a curse, he teaches Alcibiades after what manner he ought to pray. In the first place, he recommends to him, as the model of his devotions, a short prayer which a Greek poet composed for the use of his friends, in the following words: O Jupiter, give us those things which are good for us, whether they are such things as we pray for, or such things as we do not pray for: and remove from us those things which are hurtful, though they are such things as we pray for.' In the second place, that his disciple may ask such things as are expedient for him, he shows him, that it is absolutely necessary to apply himself to the study of true wisdom, and to the knowledge of that which is his chief good, and the most suitable to the excellency of his nature. In the third and last place, he informs him that the best methods he could make use of to draw down blessings upon himself, and to render his prayers acceptable, would be to live in a constant practice of his duty towards the gods, and towards men. Under this head he very much recommends a form of prayer the Lacedemonians make use of, in which they petition the gods to give them all good things so long as they were virtuous.' Under this head, likewise, he gives a very remarkable account of an oracle to the following purpose: When the Athenians in the war with the Lacedemonians received many defeats both by sea and land, they sent a message to the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, to ask the reason why they who erected so many temples to the gods, and adorned them with such costly offerings; why they who had instituted so many festivals, and accompanied them with such pomps and ceremonies; in short, why they who had slain so many hecatombs at their altars, should be less successful than the Lacedemonians, who fell so short of them in these particulars? To this, says he, the oracle made the following reply: I am better pleased with the prayers of the Lacedemonians than with all the oblations of the Greeks.' As this prayer implied and encouraged virtue in those who made it; the philosopher proceeds to show how the most vicious man might be devout, so far as victims could make him, but that his offerings were regarded by the gods as bribes, and his petitions as blasphemies. He likewise quotes on this occasion two verses out of Homer, in which the poet says, that the scent of the Trojan sacrifices were carried up to heaven by the winds; but that it was not acceptable to the gods, who were displeased with Priam and all his people.' The conclusion of this dialogue is very remarkable. Socrates having deterred Alcibiades from the prayers and sacrifice which he was going to offer, by setting forth the above mentioned difficulties of performing that duty as he ought, adds these words: We must therefore wait until such time as we may learn how we ought to behave ourselves towards the gods, and towards men.'-'But when will that time come,' says Alcibiades, and who is it that will instruct us? for I would fain see this man, whoever he is.' It is one,' says Socrates, who takes care of you; but as Homer tells us, that Minerva removed the mist from Diomede's eyes that he might plainly discover both gods and men,† so the darkness that hangs upon your mind must be removed before you are able to discern what is good and what is evil.'—'Let him remove from my mind,' says Alcibiades, the darkness and what else he pleases, I am determined to refuse nothing he shall order me, whoever he is, so that I may become the better man by it.' The remaining part of this dialogue is very obscure: there | Being that his will may be done: which is is something in it that would make us think of the same force with that form which Socrates hinted at himself, when he spoke our Saviour used, when he prayed against of this divine teacher who was to come into the most painful and most ignominious of the world, did not he own that he himself deaths, Nevertheless not my will, but was in this respect as much at a loss, and thine be done." This comprehensive petiin as great distress as the rest of mankind. tion is the most humble, as well as the most Some learned men look upon this con- prudent, that can be offered up from the clusion as a prediction of our Saviour, or at creature to his Creator, as it supposes the least that Socrates, like the high priest,* Supreme Being wills nothing but what is prophesied unknowingly, and pointed at for our good, and that he knows better than that Divine Teacher who was to come into ourselves what is so. L. the world some ages after him. However that may be, we find that this great philosopher saw by the light of reason, that it No. 208:] Monday, October 29, 1711. was suitable to the goodness of the divine nature, to send a person into the world who should instruct mankind in the duties of religion, and, in particular, teach them how to pray. Veniunt spectentur ut ipsæ. Ovid. Ars Am. Lib. 1. 99. To be themselves a spectacle they come. I HAVE several letters of people of good sense who lament the depravity or poverty of taste the town is fallen into with relation to plays and public spectacles. A lady in particular observes, that there is such a levity in the minds of her own sex, that they seldom attend to any thing but impertinences. It is indeed prodigious to observe Whoever reads this abstract of Plato's discourse on prayer, will, I believe, naturally make this reflection, That the great founder of our religion, as well by his own example, as in the form of prayer which he taught his disciples, did not only keep up to those rules which the light of nature had suggested to this great philoso-how little notice is taken of the most exaltpher, but instructed his disciples in the ed parts of the best tragedies in Shaks whole extent of this duty, as well as of all peare; nay, it is not only visible that senothers. He directed them to the proper suality has devoured all greatness of soul, object of adoration, and taught them, ac- but the under-passion (as I may so call it) cording to the third rule above-mentioned, of a noble spirit, Pity, seems to be a stranger to apply themselves to him in their closets, to the generality of an audience. The minds without show or ostentation, and to worship of men are indeed very differently disposed; him in spirit and in truth.' As the Lacede- and the reliefs from care and attention are monians in their form of prayer implored of one sort in a great spirit, and of another the gods in general to give them all good in an ordinary one. The man of a great things so long as they were virtuous, we heart, and a serious complexion, is more ask in particular that our offences may be pleased with instances of generosity and forgiven, as we forgive those of others.' If pity, than the light and ludicrous spirit can we look into the second rule which Socrates possibly be with the highest strains of mirth has prescribed, namely, that we should and laughter. It is therefore a melancholy apply ourselves to the knowledge of such prospect when we see a numerous assemthings as are best for us, this too is explain-bly lost to all serious entertainments, and ed at large in the doctrines of the gospel, where we are taught in several instances to regard those things as curses, which appear as blessings in the eye of the world; and, on the contrary, to esteem those things as blessings, which to the generality of mankind appear as curses. Thus in the form which is prescribed to us, we only pray for that happiness which is our chief good, and the great end of our existence, when we petition the Supreme Being for the coming of his kingdom, being solicitous for no other temporal blessings but our daily sustenance. On the other side, we pray against nothing but sin, and against evil in general, leaving it with Omniscience to determine what is really such. If we look into the first of Socrates his rules of prayer, in which he recommends the above-mentioned form of the ancient poet, we find that form not only comprehended, but very much improved in the petition, wherein we pray to the Supreme * Caiaphas, John xi. 49. such incidents as should move one sort of concern, excite in them a quite contrary one. In the tragedy of Macbeth, the other night, when the lady who is conscious of the crime of murdering the king seems utterly astonished at the news, and makes an exclamation at it, instead of the indignation which is natural to the occasion, that expression is received with a loud laugh. They were as merry when a criminal was stabbed. It is certainly an occasion of rejoicing when the wicked are seized in their designs; but I think it is not such a triumph as is exerted by laughter. You may generally observe, that the appetites are sooner moved than the passions A sly expression which alludes to bawdry, puts a whole row into a pleasing smirk; when a good sentence that describes an inward sentiment of the soul, is received with the greatest coldness and indifference. A correspondent of mine, upon this subject, has divided the female part of the audience, and accounts for their pr possessions against • October 20. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I have been out of town, so did not meet with your paper, dated September the 28th, wherein you, to my heart's desire, expose that cursed vice of ensnaring poor young girls, and drawing them from their friends. I assure you without flattery it has saved a 'prentice of mine from ruin; and in token of gratitude, as well as for the benefit of my family, I have put it in a frame and glass, and hung it behind my counter. I shall take care to make my young ones read it every morning, to fortify them against such pernicious rascals. 1 know not whether what you writ was mat this reasor.able delight in the following manner: The prude,' says he, as she acts always in contradiction, so she is gravely sullen at a comedy, and extravagantly gay at a tragedy. The coquette is so much taken up with throwing her eyes around the audience, and considering the effect of them, that she cannot be expected to observe the actors but as they are her rivals, and take off the observation of the men from herself. Besides these species of women, there are the examples, or the first of the mode. These are to be supposed too well acquainted with what the actor was going to say to be moved at it. After these one might mention a certain flippant set ofter of fact, or your own invention; but this females who are mimics, and are wonderfully diverted with the conduct of all the people around them, and are spectators only of the audience. But what is of all the most to be lamented, is the loss of a party whom it would be worth preserving in their right senses upon all occasions, and these are those whom we may indifferently call the innocent, or the unaffected. You may sometimes see one of these sensibly touched with a well-wrought incident; but then she is immediately so impertinently observed by the men, and frowned at by some insensible superior of her own sex, that she is ashamed, and loses the enjoyment of the most laudable concern, pity. Thus the whole audience is afraid of letting fall a tear, and shun as a weakness the best and worthiest part of our sense. I will take my oath on, the first part is so exactly like what happened to my 'prentice, that had I read your paper then, 1 should have taken your method to have secured a villain. Go on and prosper. Your most obliged humble servant.' 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Without raillery, I desire you to insert this word for word in your next, as you value a lover's prayers. You see it is a hue and cry after a stray heart, (with the marks and blemishes underwritten;) which, whoever shall bring to you, shall receive satisfaction. Let me beg of you not to fail, as you remember the passion you had for her to whom you lately ended a paper: 'Noble, generous, great and good, 'SIR,-As you are one that doth not only pretend to reform, but affect it amongst people of any sense; makes me (who am one of the greatest of your admirers,) give you this trouble to desire you will settle the method of us females knowing when one another is in town: for they have now got a trick of never sending to their acquaintance when they first come; and if No. 209.] Tuesday, October 30, 1711. Γυναικος ουδε χρήμ' ανήρ ληίζεται 1. one does not visit them within the week which they stay at home, it is a mortal quarrel. Now, dear Mr. Spec, either command them to put it in the advertisement of your paper, which is generally read by our sex, or else order them to breathe their THERE are no authors I am more pleased saucy footmen (who are good for nothing with than those who show human nature in else,) by sending them to tell all their ac- a variety of views, and describe the several quaintance. If you think to print this, pray ages of the world in their different manners. put it into a better style as to the spelling A reader cannot be more rationally enterpart. The town is now filling every day, tained, than by comparing the virtues and and it cannot be deferred, because people vices of his own times with those which take advantage of one another by this prevailed in the times of his forefathers; means, and break off acquaintance, and and drawing a parallel in his mind between are rude. Therefore, pray put this in your his own private character and that of other paper as soon as you can possibly, to pre-persons, whether of his own age or of the vent any future miscarriages of this nature. I am, as I ever shall be, dear Spec, your most obedient humble servant, "MARY MEAŃWELL.’ Pray settle what is to be a proper notification of a person's being in town, and how hat differs according to people's quality.' ages that went before him. The contemplation of mankind under these changeable colours is apt to shame us out of any particular vice, or animate us to any particular virtue; to make us pleased or displeased with ourselves in the most proper points, and to clear our minds of prejudice and prepossession, and rectify that narrowness |