whose system of divinity and spiritual mecha-|sions in general, they will not allow a wise nics obtains very much among the better part man so much as to pity the afflictions of aof our under-graduates) whether a general in- nother, 'If thou seest thy friend in trouble,' termarriage, enjoined by parliament, between says Epictetus, ' thou mayest put on a look of this sisterhood of the olive-beauties and the sorrow, and condole with him, but take care fraternity of the people called quakers, would that thy sorrow be not real.' The more rigid not be a very serviceable expedient, and abate of this sect would not comply so far as to that overflow of light which shines within them show even such an outward appearance of so powerfully, that it dazzles their eyes, and grief; but, when one told them of any caladances them into a thousand vagaries of error mity that had befallen even the nearest of and enthusiasm. These reflections may im- their acquaintance, would immediately reply, part some light towards a discovery of the What is that to me?' If you aggravated the origin of punning among us, and the founda- circumstance of the affliction, and showed how tion of its prevailing so long in this famous bo- one misfortune was followed by another, the dy. It is notorious, from the instance under answer was still, All this may be true, and consideration, that it must be owing chiefly to what is it to me?' the use of brown jugs, muddy belch, and the fumes of a certain memorable place of rendez-passion does not only refine and civilize huFor my own part, I am of opinion, comvous with us at meals, known by the name of Staincoat Hole: for the atmosphere of the pleasing and agreeable than what can be met man nature, but has something in it more kitchen, like the tail of a comet, predominates with in such an indolent happiness, such an least about the fire, but resides behind, and indifference to mankind, as that in which the fills the fragrant receptacle above mentioned. Stoics placed their wisdom. As love is the Besides, it is further observable, that the delicate spirits among us, who declare against but love softened by a degree of sorrow. most delightful passion, pity is nothing else these nauseous proceedings, sip tea, and put short, it is a kind of pleasing anguish, as well up for critic and amour, profess likewise an equal abhorrence for punning, the ancient in-together, and blends them in the same comas generous sympathy, that knits mankind nocent diversion of this society. After all, sir. though it may appear something absurd that I seem to approach you with the air of an Those who have laid down rules for rhetoric advocate for punning, (you who have justified or poetry, advise the writer to work himself your censures of the practice in a set disserta-up, if possible, to the pitch of sorrow which tion upon that subject)* yet I am confident he endeavours to produce in others. There you will think it abundantly atoned for by ob- are none therefore who stir up pity so much serving, that this bumbler exercise may be as as those who indite their own sufferings. instrumental in diverting us from any innovat-Grief has a natural eloquence belonging to it, ing schemes and hypotheses in wit, as dwelling and breaks out in more moving sentiments upon honest orthodox logic would be in secnr-than can be supplied by the finest imaginaing us from heresy in religion. Had Mr. tion. Nature on this occasion dictates a thouWn'st researches been confined within the sand passionate things which cannot be supbounds of Ramus or Crackenthorp, that learn-plied by art. mon lot. ed news-monger might have acquiesced in: It is for this reason that the short speeches what the holy oracles pronounced upon the or sentences which we often meet with in hisdeluge like other Christians; and had the tories make a deeper impression on the mind surprising Mr. Ly been content with the of the reader than the most laboured strokes employment of refining upon Shakspeare's in a well-written tragedy. Truth and matter points and quibbles (for which he must be of fact sets the person actually before us in allowed to have a superlative genius), and the one, whom fiction places at a greater disnow and then penning a catch or a ditty, tance from us in the other. I do not rememinstead of inditing odes and sonnets, the gen-ber to have seen any ancient or modern story tlemen of the bon gout in the pit would never more affecting than a letter of Ann of Bologne, have been put to all that grimace in damn-wife to king Henry the Eighth, and mother ing the frippery of state, the poverty and to queen Elizabeth, which is still extant in languor of thought, the unnatural wit, and in- the Cotton library, as written by her own artificial structure of his dramas. hand. 'I am, Sir, Your very humble servant, Shakspeare himself could not have made her talk in a strain so suitable to her condition and character. One sees in it the expostulation of a slighted lover, the resentment of an injured woman, an the sorrows of an imprisoned queen. I need not acquaint my readers that this princess was then under prosecution for disloyalty to the king's bed, and that she was afterwards publicly beheaded uppon the same account; though this prosecution was believed by many to proceed, as she herpas-self intimates, rather from the king's love to Jane Seymour, than from any actual crime in Ann of Bologne. Ovid, Met. xiii. 225. Queen Ann Boleyn's last letter to King Henry. you and myself must shortly appear, and in SIR, whose judgment I doubt not (whatsoever Cotton Lib. Your grace's displeasure, and the world may think of me) mine innocence Otho C. 10. my imprisonment, are things shall be openly known, and sufficiently clearso strange unto me, as what to write, or what ed. to excuse, I am altogether ignorant. Whereas My last and only request shall be, that myyou send unto me, (willing me to confess a self may only bear the burden of your grace's truth, and to obtain your favour) by such an displeasure, and that it may not touch the inone, whom you know to be mine ancient pro-nocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who fessed enemy, I no sooner received this mes-(as I understand) are likewise in straight imsage by him, than I rightly conceived your prisonment for my sake. If ever I have found meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a favour in your sight, if ever the name of Ann truth indeed may procure my safety, I shall Boleyn hath been pleasing in your ears, then with all willingness and duty perform your let me obtain this request, and I will so leave to trouble your grace any farther, with mine command. 'But let not your grace ever imagine, that earnest prayers to the Trinity, to have your your poor wife will ever be brought to acknow-grace in his good keeping, and to direct you ledge a fault, where not so much as a thought in all your actions. From my doleful prison thereof preceded. And to speak a truth, ne- in the Tower, this sixth of May; 'Your most loyal L. ' and ever faithful wife, Insanire pares certa ratione modoque. Hor. Sat. iii. Lib. 2. 272. Creech. ver prince had a wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Ann Boleyn: with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your grace's pleasure had been No. 398.] Friday, June 6, 1712. so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as I now find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation! than your grace's fancy, the least alteration I knew was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy CYNTHIO and Flavia are persons of distincto some other object. You have chosen me tion in this town, who have been lovers these from a low estate to be your queen and com- ten months last past, and writ to each other panion, far beyond my desert or desire. If for gallantry sake under those feigned names; then you found me worthy of such honour, Mr. Such-a-one and Mrs. Such-a-one not begood your grace, let not any light fancy, or ing capable of raising the soul out of the orbad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your dinary tracts and passages of life, up to that princely favour from me; neither let that stain, elevation which makes the life of the enamourthat unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart to-ed so much superior to that of the rest of the wards your good grace, ever cast so foul a world. But ever since the beauteous Cecilla blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant has made such a figure as she now does in the princess your daughter. Try me, good king, circle of charming women, Cynthio has been but let me have a lawful trial, and let not my secretly one of her adorers. Cecilia has been sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; the finest woman in the town these three yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truth months, and so long Cynthio has acted the shall fear no open shame then shall you see part of a lover very awkwardly in the preeither mine innocence cleared, your suspicion sence of Flavia. Flavia has been too blind and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and towards him, and has too sincere an heart of Islander of the world stopped, or my guilt her own to observe a thousand things which openly declared. So that, whatsoever God or would have discovered this change of mind to you may determine of me, your grace may be any one less engaged than she was. Cynthio freed from an open censure; and mine of was musing yesterday in the piazza in Cofence being so lawfully proved, your grace is vent-gerden, and was saying to himself that at liberty, both before God and man, not on- he was a very ill man to go on visiting and ly to execute worthy punishment on me as an professing love to Flavia, when his heart was unlawful wife, but to follow your affection, al- enthralled to another. It is an infirmity that ready settled on that party, for whose sake II am not constant to Flavia; but it would be am now as I am, whose name I could some still a greater crime, since I cannot continue good while since have pointed unto your to love her, to profess that I do. To marry a grace not being ignorant of my suspicion therein. woman with the coldness that usually indeed comes on after marriage, is ruining one's self 'But if you have already determined of me, with one's eyes open; besides, it is really doand that not only my death, but an infamous ing her an injury. This last consideration forslander must bring you the enjoying of your sooth, of injuring her in persisting, made him desired happiness; then I desire of God, that resolve to break off upon the first favourable he will pardon your great sin therein, and opportunity of making her angry. When he likewise mine enemies, the instruments there- was in this thought, he saw Robin the porter, of; and that he will not call you to a strict ac-who waits at Will's coffee-house, passing by. count for your unprincely and cruel usage of Robin, you must know, is the best man in the me, at his general judgment seat, where both town for carrying a billet; the fellow has a VOL. II. 15 thin body, swift step, demure looks, sufficient | chamber since I writ to you, and have reco- ness. Robin came back in an instant, and Cynthio Half an hour six minutes after three, 'MADAM, It is certain I went by your lodgings with a gentlewoman to whom I have the honour to Robin therefore Cynthio now thought fit to make use of, and gave him orders to wait before Flavia's door, and if she called him to her, and asked whether it was Cynthio who passed by, he should at first be loth to own it was, but upon importunity confess it. There needed not much search into that part of the town to find a well-dressed hussey fit for the As soon as he purpose Cynthio designed her. believed Robin was posted, he drove by Fla-be known; she is indeed my relation, and a But your starting via's lodgings in a hackney-coach and a wo- pretty sort of a woman. man in it. Robin was at the door talking with manner of writing, and owning you have not done me the honour so much as to open my Flavia's maid, and Cynthio pulled up the glass letter, has in it something very unaccounta as surprised, and hid his associate. The report of this circumstance soon flew up stairs, and Robin could not deny but the gentlemen favoured* his master; yet if it was he, he was sure the lady was but his cousin, whom he had seen ask for him; adding, that he believed she was a poor relation; because they made her wait one morning till he was awake. Flavia immediately writ the following epistle, which Robin brought to Will's. As soon as Robin arrived with this, Flavia answered: DEAR CYNTHIO, ble, and alarms one that has had thoughts 'CYNTHIO.' Robin ran back and brought for answer: to 'FLAVIA.' Is it come to this? You never loved me, and the creature you were with is the properest person for your associate. I despise you, * I have walked a turn or two in my anti-and hope I shall soon hate you as a villain to Resemblent. 'The credulous 'FLAVIA. E I No. 399.] Saturday, June 7, 1712. tion of human nature, and is the standing example, as well as the great guide and instruc tor, of those who receive his doctrines. Though these two heads cannot be too much insisted upon, I shall but just mention them, since they have been handled by many great and eminent writers. I would therefore propose the following methods to the consideration of such as would find out their secret faults, and make a true estimate of themselves. In the first place, let them consider well what are the characters which they bear among their enemies. Our friends very often flatter us, as much as our own hearts. They either do not see our faults, or conceal them from us, or soften them by their representations, after such a manner that we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. An adver sary, on the contrary, makes a stricter search into us, discovers every flaw and imperfec. tion in our tempers; and though his malice may set them in too strong a light, it has ge Ut nemo in sese tentat descendere!--Per. Sat. iv. 23. nerally some ground for what it advances. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues, an enemy None, none descends into himself to find inflames his crimes. A wise man should give The secret imperfections of his mind. Dryden. a just attention to both of them, so far as they HYPOCRISY at the fashionable end of the may tend to the improvement of one, and the town is very different from hypocrisy in the diminution of the other. Plutarch has written city. The modish hypocrite endeavours to an essay on the benefits which a man may reappear more vicious than he really is, the ceive from his enemies, and, among the good other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, former is afraid of every thing that has the that by the reproaches which it casts upon us show of religion in it, and would be thought we see the worst side of ourselves, and open engaged in many criminal gallantries and our eyes to several blemishes and defects in amours which he is not guilty of. The lat-our lives and conversations, which we should ter assumes a face of sanctity, and covers a not have observed without the help of such multitude of vices under a seeming religious ill-natured monitors. deportment. In order likewise to come at a true know. But there is another kind of hypocrisy, ledge of ourselves, we should consider on the which differs from both these, and which other hand how far we may deserve the praises intend to make the subject of this paper: I and approbations which the world bestow upon mean that hypocrisy, by which a man does us; whether the actions they celebrate proceed not only deceive the world, but very often from laudable and worthy motives; and how imposes on himself; that hypocrisy which far we are really possessed of the virtues conceals his own heart from him, and makes which gain us applause among those with him believe he is more virtuous than he whom we converse. Such a reflection is abreally is, and either not attend to his vices, solutely necessary, if we consider how apt we or mistake even his vices for virtues. It is this fatal hypocrisy, and self-deceit. which is taken notice of in those words. 'Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from world. secret faults." are either to value or condemn ourselves by the opinions of others, and to sacrifice the report of our own hearts to the judgment of the In the next place, that we may not deceive If the open professors of impiety deserve ourselves in a point of so much importance we the utmost application and endeavours of mo- should not lay too great a stress on any supral writers to recover them from vice and posed virtues we possess that are of a doubtful folly, how much more may those lay a claim nature: and such we may esteem all those in to their care and compassion, who are walk- which multitudes of men dissent from us, who ing in the paths of death, while they fancy are as good and wise as ourselves. We should themselves engaged in a course of virtue! I always act with great cautiousness and circum. shall endeavour there fore to lay down some spection in points where it is not impossible rules for the discovery of those vices that that we may be deceived. Intemperate zeal, lurk in the secret corners of the soul, and to bigotry, and persecution for any party or opinshow my reader those methods by which he ion, how praise-worthy soever they may ap may arrive at a true and impartial knowledge pear to weak men of our own principles, proof himself. The usual means prescribed for duce infinite calamities among mankind, and this purpose are, to examine ourselves by the are highly criminal in their own nature: and rules which are laid down for our direction in yet how many persons eminent for piety suffer sacred writ, and to compare our lives with the such monstrous and absurd principles of action life of that person who acted up to the perfecto take root in their minds under the colour of 'Her galley down the silver Cidnos row'd: Rus virtues! For my own part, I must own I never to the modesty of a woman's manners. There is nothing of greater importance to us than thus diligently to sift our thoughts, and examine all these dark recesses of the mind, if we would establish our souls in such a solid and substantial virtue, as will turn to account in that great day when it must stand the test of infinite wisdom and justice. The tackling silk, the streamers way'd with gold: A darting glory seem'd to blaze abroad, Here the imagination is warmed with all the I shall conclude this essay with observing that the two kinds of bypocrisy I have here spoken of, namely, that of deceiving the world, and that of imposing on ourselves, are touched with wonderful beauty in the hundred thirtyninth psalm. The folly of the first kind of hypocrisy is there set forth by reflections on God's omniscience and omnipresence, which Desire is corrected when there is a tenderness are celebrated in as noble strains of poetry as or admiration expressed which partakes the any other I ever met with either sacred or pro- brutal in it, which disgraces humanity, and passion. Licentious language has something fane. The other kind of hypocrisy, whereby leaves us in the condi ion of the savages in the a man deceives himself, is intimated in the two last verses, where the psalmist addresses field. But it may be asked, To what good use himself to the great Searcher of hearts in that can tend a discourse of this kind at all? It is emphatical petition. Try me, O God! and to alarm chaste cars against such as have, seek the ground of my heart; prove me, and what is above called, the prevailing gentle examine my thoughts. Look well if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' No. 400.] Monday, June 9, 1712. - L. Latet anguis in herbâ.-Virg. Ecl. iii. 93. There's a snake in the grass.-English Proverb. art.' Masters of that talent are capable of clothing their thoughts in so soft a dress, and something so distant from the secret purpose of their heart, that the imagination of the unguarded is touched with a fondness, which grows too insensibly to be resisted. Much care and concern for the lady's welfare, to seem afraid lest she should be annoyed by the very air which surrounds her, and this uttered raIr should, methinks, preserve modesty and ther with kind looks, and expressed by an inits interests in the world, that the transgression terjection, an 'ah,' or an oh,' at some little of it always creates offence; and the very pur-hazard in moving or making a step, than in poses of wantonness are defeated by a carriage any direct profession of love, are the methods which has in it so much boldness, as to intimate of skilful admirers. They are honest arts when that fear and reluctance are quite extinguished their purpose is such, but infamous when misin an object which would be otherwise desira-applied. It is certain that many a young woble. It was said of a wit of the last age, 'Sedley has that prevailing gentle art man in this town has had her heart irreco- * Dryden's All for Love, act iii. sc. i. |