« AnteriorContinuar »
figure in the most refined. I have been pre-fulates himself in all his proceedings by justice sent with him among men of the most delicate and equity, he finds a thousand occasions for taste a whole night, and have known him (for all the good-natured offices of generosity and he saw it was desired) keep the discourse to compassion. himself the most part of it, and maintain his A man is unfit for such a place of trust, whe good-humour with a countenance, in a lan-lis of a sour untractable nature, or has any guage so delightful, without offence to any other passion that makes him uneasy to those person or thing upon earth, still preserving the who approach him. Roughness of temper is distance his circuinstances obliged him to ; Japt to discountenance the timorous or modest. say, I have seen him do all this in such a The proud man discourages those from apcharming manner, that I am sure none of proaching him, who are of a mean condition, those I hint at will read this, without giving and who most want his assistance. The imhim some sorrow for their abundant mirth. patient man will not give himself time to be ipand one gush of tears for so many bursts of formed of the matter that lies before him. An laughter. I wish it were any honour to the officer, with one or more of these unbecoming pleasant creature's memory, that my eyes are qualities, is sometimes looked upon as a protoo much suffused to let me go on
T. per person to keep off impertinence and solici+ The following severe passage in this number of station from his superior ; but this is a kind of the Spectator in folio, apparently levelled at Dr. Rad- merit that can never atone for the injustice cliffe, was suppressed in all the subsequent editions : which may very often arise from it.
It is a felicily his friends may rejoico in, that he had There are two other vicious qualities, whicb his senses, and used them as he ought to do, in his last moments. It is remarkable that his judgment was in its render a man very unfit for such a place of calm perfection to the utmost article ; for when his wife (trust. The first of these is a dilatorv temper. out of her fondness, desired she might send for a certain which commits innumerable cruelties without Illiterate humourist (whom he had accompanied in aldesign. The maxim which several have laid thousund mirthful moments, and whose insplence makes fools think he assumes from conscious merit,) he answer-down for a man's conduct in ordinary life. ed, “Do what you please, but he won't come near me." should be inviolable with a man in office. Let poor Eastcourt's negligence about this inesenge con- Never to think of doing that to-morrow which vince the unwary of a triumphant einpiric's ignorance
I may be done to-day. A man who defers doand inhumanity.
ing what ought to be done, is guilty of injus.
tice so long as he defers it. The despatch of No. 469.] Thursday, August 28, 1712.
a good office is very often as beneficial to the Detrahere aliquid alteri, et hominem hominis incom
solicitor as the good office itself. In short, if a modo suum augere commodum, magis est contra naturam, man compared the inconveniences which an. quim mors, quam paupertas, quam dolor, qudin cætera other suffers by his delays, with the triling moquæ possunt aut corpori accidere, aut rebus externis. Itives and advantages which he himsel may
reap by them, he would never be guilty of a To detract any thing from another, and for one man to fault which very often does an irreparable premultiply his own conveniencies by the inconveniencies of judice to the person who depends upon him, another, is more against nature than death, than poverty,
hy: (and which might be remedied with little trou. than pain, and the other things which can befall the body
" ble to himself. or external circumstances.
But in the last place, there is no man so imI Am persuaded there are few men, of ge.proper to be employed in business, as he who nerous principles, who would seek after great is in any degree capable of corruption; and places, were it not rather to have an opportu- such a one is the man who, upon any pretence nity in their hands of obliging their particular whatsoever, receives more than what is the friends, or those whom they look upon as men stated and unquestioned fee of his office. Grat. of worth, than to procure wealth and honour ifications, tokens of thankfulness, despatch for themselves. To an honest mind, the best money, and the like specious terms, are the perquisites of a place are the advantages it pretences under which corruption very fregives a man of doing good.
quently shelters itself. An honest man will Those who are under the great officers of however look on all these methods as unjusti. state, and are the instruments by which they fiable, and will enjoy himself better in a modeact, have more frequent opportunities for the rate fortune, that is gained with honour and cxercise of compassion and benevolence, than reputation, than in an overgrown estate that is their superiors themselves. These men know cankered with the acquisitions of rapine and every little case that is to come before the exaction. Were all our offices discharged with great man, and, if they are possessed of honest such an inflexible integrity, we sbould not see minds, will consider poverty as a recommen- men in all ages, who grow up to exorbitant dation in the person who applies himself to wealth, with the abilities which are to be met them, and make the justice of his cause the with in an ordinary mechanic, I cannot but most powerful solicitor in his behalf. A man think that such a corruption proceeds chiefly of this temper, when he is in a post of busi- from men's employing the first that offer themness, becomes a blessing to the public. He selves, or those who have the character of patronises the orphan and the widow, assists shrewd worldly men, instead of searching out the friendless, and guides the ignorant. He such as have had a liberal education, and dave does not reject the person's pretensions, who been trained up in the studies of knowledge does not know how to explain them, or refuse and virtue. doing a good office for a man because he can. It has been observed, that men of learning not pay the fee of it. In short, though he reg- who take to business, discharge it genarally
with greater honesty than men of the world. edition, with the several various readings The chief reason for it I take to be as follows. which I find of it in former editions, and in anA man that has spent his youth in reading, cient manuscripts. Those who cannot relish the has been used to find virtue extolled, and vice various readings, will perhaps find their acstigmatized. A man that has passed his time count in the song, which never before appear. in the world, has often seeu vice triumphant, cd in print. and virtue discountenanced Extortion, ra
My love was fickle once and changing, pine and injustice, which are branded with in
Nor e'er would settle in my heart; famy in books, often give a man a figure in the
From beauty still to beauty ranging, world; while several qualities, which are cel
In ev'ry face I found a dart. ebrated in authors, as generosity, ingenuity,
'Twas first a charming shape enslav'd mo; and good-nature, impoverish and ruin him.
An eye then gave the fatal stroke: This cannot but have a proportionable effect Till by her wit Corinda say'd me,
And all my former fettere broke. on men whose tempers and principles are equaliy good and vicious.
But now a long and lasting anguisla
For Belvidora I endure; There would be at least this advantage in
Hourly I sigh, and hourly languish, employing men of learning and parts in busi
Nor hope to find the wonted cure. ness ; that their prosperity would sit more
For here the false unconstant lover, gracefully on them, and that we should not
After a thousand beauties ehown, see many worthless persons shot up into the
Docs new surprising charms discover, greatest figures of life.
And finds variety in one.'
Various Readings. No. 470.] Friday, August 29, 1712.
Stanza the first, verse the first. And change Turpe est difficiles habere nugas,
ing. 1 The and in some manuscripts is written Et stultus labor est ineptiarum.
thus, & ; but that in the Cotton library writes Nart. Epig. Ixxxvi. Lib. 2. 9.
it in three distinct letters.
Verse the second. Nor e'er would.) Aldus 'Tis folly only, and defect of sense, Turns trifles into things of consequence.
rends it erer would; but as this would hurt
the metre, we have restored it to the genuine I HAVE been very often disappointed of late reading, by observing that synæresis which years, when, upon examining the new edition had been neglected by ignorant transcribers. of a classic author, I have found above half the Ibid. In my heart.] Scaliger and others, volume taken up with various readings. When on my heart. I have expected to meet with a learned note Verse the fourth. I found a dart.] The upon a doubtful passage in a Latin poet, I Vatican manuscript for I reads it; but this have only been informed, that such or such an- must have been the hallucination of the trancient manuscripts for an et write an ac, or of scriber, who probably mistook the dash of the some other notable discovery of the like im- for a 'T. . portance. Indeed, when a different reading Stanza the second, verse the second. The gives us a different sense or a new elegance in fatal stroke. Scioppius, Salmasius, and many an author, the editor does very well in taking others, for the read a : but I have stuck to the notice of it; but when he only entertains us usual reading. with the several ways of spelling the same Verse the third. Till by her wit.) Some word, and gathers together the various blun- manuscripts have it his wit, others lour, others ders and mistakes of twenty or thirty different their wit.' But as I find Corinna to be the transcribers, they only take up the time of the name of a woman in other authors, I cannot learned renders, and puzzle the minds of the doubt but it should be her. ignorant. I have often fancied with myselfl Stanza the third, verse the first. Along how enraged an old Latin author would be, and lasting anguish. 7 The German manushould he see the several absurdities, in sense script reads a lasting passion, but the rhyme and grammar, which are imputed to him by will not admit it. some or other of these various readings. In Verse the second. For Belvidera I endure.] one he speaks nonsense; in another makes use Did not all the manuscripts reclaim, I should of a word that was never heard of; and in-change Belvidera into Pelvidera; Pelvis being deed there is scarce a solecism in writing which used by several of the ancient comic writers the best author is not guilty of, if we may be for a looking-glass, by which means the ety. at liberty to read him in the words of some mology of the word is very visible, and Pel. manuscript which the laborious editor has ridera will signif a lady who often looks in thought fit to examine in the prosecution of his ber glass ; as indeed she had very good reawork.
son, if she had all those beauties which our I question not but the ladies and pretty fel-poet here ascribes to her. lows will be very curious to understand what' Verse the third. Hourly I sigh and hourly it is that I have been hitherto talking of. 1 languish.) Some for the word hourly read shall therefore give them a notion of this prac-daily, and others nightly; the last bas great tice, by endeavouring to write after the man- authorities of its side. ner of several persons who make an eminent Verse the fourth. The wonted cure ) The figure in the republic of letters. To this end elder Stevens reads wanted cure.' we will suppose that the following song is an Stanza the fourth, verse the second. After old ode, which I present to the public in a new a thousand beauties.] In several copies we meet with a hundred beauties, by the usualling, were he not endowed with this passion. error of the transcribers, who probably omit- which gives him a taste of those good things ted a scypher, and had not taste enough to that may possibly coine into his possession. know that the word thousand was ten times a l. We should hope for every thing that is good.' greater compliment to the poet's mistress than says the old poet Linus, because there is noan hundred.
thing which may not be hoped for, and noVerse the fourth. And finds variety in one ] thing but what the gods are able to give us.' Most of the ancient manuscripts have it in two. Hope quickens all the still parts of inte, and Indeed so many of ihem concur in this last keeps the mind awake in her most remiss and reading, that I am very much in doubt whether indolent hours. It gives habitual serenity and it ought not to take place. There are but two good humour. It is a kind of vital heat in the reasons which incline me to the reading as I soul, that cheers and gladdens her, when she have published it: first, because the rhyme; does not attend to it. It makes pain easy, and, secondly, because the sense is preserved (and labour pleasant. by it. It might likewise proceed from the os. Beside these several advantages which rise citancy of transcribers, who, to despatch their from hope, there is another which is pone of work the sooner, used to write all numbers in the least, and that is, its great efficacy in precypher, and seeing the figure I followed by a serving us from setting too high a value o little dash of the pen, as is customary in old present enjoyments. The saying of Cæsar is manuscripts, they perhaps mistook the dash very well known. When he had given away for a second figure, and, by casting up both all his estate in gratuities among his friends. together, composed out of them the figure 2 one of them asked what he had left for him. But this I shall leave to the learned, without self; to which that great man replied, 'Hope.' determining any thing in a matter of so great His naturai maguanimity hindered him from uncertainty.
C. prizing what he was certainly possessed of,
and turned all his thoughts upon something No. 471.] salurday, August 30, 1712. more valuable that he had in view. I question 'Ey sazion PH TOUS Ocoke iz ov Bicou. Euripid. not but every reader will draw a moral from
this story, and apply it to himself without my The wise with hope support the pains of life.
direction. The time present seldom atfords sufficient The old story of Pandora's box (which maemployment to the mind of man. Objects of py of the learned believe was forined among pain or pleasure, love or admiration, do not the heathens upon the tradition of the fall of lie thick enough together in life to keep the man) shows us how deplorable a state they soul in constant action, and supply an iinme-thought the present life, without hope. To diate exercise to its faculties. In order, there- set forth the utmost condition of misery, they fore, to remedy this defect, that the mind may tell us, that our forefather, according to the not want business, but always have materiais pagau theology, had a great vessel presented for thinking, she is endowed with certain pow- him by Pandora. Upon his lifting up the lid ers, that can recall what is passed, and anti- of it, says the fable, there flew out all the cacipate what is to come.
lamities and distempers incident to men, That wonderful faculty, which we call the from which, till that time, they had been almemory, is perpetually looking back, when together exempt. Hope, who had been en. we have nothing present to entertain us. It closed in the cup with so much bad company, is like those repositories in several animals instead of flying off with the rest, stuck so that were filled with stores of their former close to the lid of it, that it was shut down food, on which they may ruminate when upon her. their present pasture fails.
1 I shall make but two reflections upon what As the memory relieves the mind in her va-11 have hitherto said. First, that no kind of cant moments, and prevents any chasms of life is so happy as that which is full of hope, thought by ideas of what is passed, we have especially when the hope is well grounded, other faculties that agitate and employ her and when the object of it is of an exalted for what is to come. These are the passions kind, and in its nature proper to make the of hope and fear.
person happy ho enjoys it. This proposiBy these two passions we reach forward in- tion must be very evident to those who consito futurity, and bring up to our present der how few are the present enjoyments of thoughts objects that lie hid in the remotest the most happy man, and how insufficient to depths of time. We suffer misery and enjoy give him an entire satisfaction and acquies. happiness, before they are in being; we can cence in them. set the sun and stars forward, or lose sight My next observation is this, that a religious of them by wandering into those retired life is that which most abounds in a wellparts of eternity, when the heavens and earth grounded hope, and such an one as is fixed on shall be no more. By the way, who can objects that are capable of making us entirely imagine that the existence of a creature is to happy. This hope in a religious man is much be circumscribed by time, whose thoughts are more sure and certain than the hope of any not? But I shall, in this paper, confine myself temporal blessing, as it is strengthened not to that particular passion which goes by the only by reason, but by faith. It has at the name of hope.
same time its eye perpetually fixed on that Our actual enjoyinents are so few and tran-Istate, which implies in the very notion of it sient, that man would be a very miserable be- the most full and complete bappiness.
I have before shown how the influence of one common distress. If all the rich who are hope in general sweetens life, and makes our lame of the gout, from a life of ease, pleasure, present condition supportable, if not pleas- and luxury, would help those few who have it ing; but a religious hope has still greater ad- without a previous life of pleasure, and add a vantages. It does not only bear up the mind few of such laborious men, who are become under her sufferings, but makes her rejoice in lame from unbappy blows, falls, or other acthem, as they may be the instruments of pro-cident of age or sickness; I say, would such curing her the great and ultimate end of all gouty persons administer to the uecessities of her hope.
men disabled like themselves, the consciousness Religious hope has likewise this advantage of such a behaviour would be the best julep, above any other kind of hope, that it is able cordial, and anodyne, in the feverish, faint, to revive the dying man, and to fill up his and tormenting vicissitudes of that miserable mind not only with secret comfort and re- distemper. The same may be said of all other, freshment, but sometimes with rapture and both bodily and intellectual evils. These transport. He triumphs in his agonies, whilst classes of charity would certainly bring down the soul springs forward with delight to the blessings upon an age and people ; and if great object which she has always had in men were not petrified with the love of this view, and leaves the body with an expecta- world, against all sense of the commerce tion of being reunited to her in a glorious and which ought to be among them, it would not joyful resurrection.
be an unreasonable bill for a poor man in the I shall conclude this essay with those em-lagony of pain, aggravated by 'want and povphatical expressions of a lively hope, which erty, to draw upon a sick alderman after this the psalmist made use of in the midst of those form: dangers and adversities which surrounded him ; for the following passage had its present 'MR. BASIL PLENTY, and personal, as well as its future and prophe
SIR. tic sense. I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right band I shall
| You have the gout and stone, with sixty not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, thousand p
a thousand pounds sterling; I have the gout and and my glory rejoiceth. My Aesh also shall
Wilstone, not worth one farthing; I shall pray for Test in hope. For thou wilt not leave my soul you, and desire you would pay the bearer twen. in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine holy one ty shillings, for value received from, to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the
Sir, your humble servant, path of life. In thy presence is fulness of joy,
· LAZARUS HOPEFUL' at thy right band there are pleasures for ever Cripplegate, August 29, 1712. more.'
The reader's own imagination will suggest No. 472.] Monday, September 1, 1712.
to him the reasonableness of such correspond
ences, and diversify them into a thousand - Voluptas Solanenque malio Virg. Æn. iii. 660.
forms ; but I shall close this as I began upon This only solace his hard fortune sende. Dryden.
the subject of blindness. The following let
ter seems to be written by a man of learnI RECEIVED some time ago a proposal, which ing, who is returned to his study, after a susbad a preface to it, wherein the author dispense of ability to do so. The benefit he recoursed at large of the innumerable objects of ports himself to have received, may well claim charity in a nation, and admonished the rich, the handsomest encomium he can give the who were afflicted with any distemper of body, operator. particularly to regard the poor in the same species of affliction, and confine their tender- 'MR. SPECTATOR, ness to them, since it is impossible to assist all “Ruminating lately on your admirable diswho are presented to thein. The proposer had courses on the pleasures of the Imagination, I been relieved from a malady in his eyes hy an began to consider to which of our senses we operation performed by Sir William Read, and, are obliged for the greatest and most important being a man of condition, had taken a resolu- share of those pleasures; and I soon concluded tion to maintain three poor blind men during that it was to the sight That is the sovereign their lives, in gratitude for that great blessing of the senses, and mother of all the arts and This misfortune is so very greataudunfrequent, sciences, that have refined the rudeness of the that one would think an establishment for all uncultivated mind to a politeness that distinthe poor under it might be easily accomplished, guishes the fine spirits from the barbarou goût with the addition of a very few others to those of the great vulgar and the small. The sight wealthy who are in the same calamity. How is the obliging benefactress that bestows on us ever, the thought of the proposer arose from a the most transporting sensations that we have very good motive; and the parcelling of our from the various and wonderful products of naselves out, as called to particular acts of bene- ture. To the sight we owe the amazing discoficence, would be a pretty cement of socicty veries of the height, magnitude, and motion and virtue. It is the ordinary foundation for of the planets, their several revolutions about men's holding a commerce with each other. Itheir commo
beat and motion, and becoming familiar, that they agree in the the sun. The sight travels yet further to the same sort of pleasure; and sure it may also fixed stars, and furnishes the understanding be some reason for amity, that they are under with solid reasons to prove, that each of them
is a sun, moving on its own axis, in the centre Revisit'st not theso oyes, that roll in vain
“ Seasons return, but not to me returns of the sight will not be stopped here, but make
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or mom, their progress through the immense expanse Or sight of vernal blooin, or sum ver's rose, to the Milky Way, and there divide the blended Or tlocks or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark fires of the galaxy into infinite aud diferent
Surround ine: froin the cheerful ways of met worlds, made up of distinct suns, and their
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair, peculiar equipages of planets. till. unable to Prescated with an universal blank pursue this track any further, it deputes the
Oi nature s works, to me expung'd and raz'd,
And wisdoin at one entrance quite shut out." imagination to so on to new discoveries. till it fill the unbounded space with endless worlds. Again, in Samson Agonistes ; · The sight informs the statuary's chisel with
But chief of all, power to give breath to lifeless brass and mar. O loss of sight of thee I most complain: ble, and the painter's pencil to swell the flat Blind among enemies! O worse than chains, canvas with moving figures actuated by imagi
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age!
Light the prime work of God, to me's extinct, nary souls. Music indeed may plead another
And all her various objects of delight original, since Jubal, by the different falls of Annullid his hammer on the anvil, discovered by the ear
---Still as a fool, the first rude music that pleased the antedilu In pow'r of others, never in my own, vian fathers; but then the sight has not only Scarce hall I seem to live, dead more than half : reduced those wilder sounds into artful order
O dark ! dark! dark! amid the blaze of 9001:
Irrocoverably dark, total eclipse, and harmony, but conveys that harmony to
Without all hopes of day." the most distant parts of the world without the help of sound. To the sight we owe not
• The enjoyment of sight then being so great only all the discoveries of philosophy, but alla blessing, and the loss of it so terrible an evil. the divine imagery of poetry that transports how excellent and valuable is the skill of the intelligent reader of Homer. Milton, and that artist wbich can restore the former, and Virgil.
redress the latter ! My frequent perusal of the As the sight has polished the world. so advertisements in the public newspapers (gen: does it supply us with the most grateful and leially the most agreeable entertainment they lasting pleasure. Let love, let friendship. pa- afford) has presented me with many and va. ternal affection, filial piety, and conjugal duty. rious benefits of this kind done to my coundeclare the joys the sight bestows on a meet trymen by that skillful artist, Dr. Grant, her ing after absence. But it would be endless to Imajesty's oculist extraordinary, whose happy enumerate all the pleasures and advantages of hand has brought and restored to sight several sight : every one that has it, every hour he hundreds in less than four years. Many have makes use of it. finds them. feels them. eniors received sight by his means who came blind them.
from their motber's womb, as in the famous inThus, as our greatest pleasures and know-stance of Jones of Newington. I myself have ledge are derived from the sight. so has Provi. been cured by him of a weakness in my eyes depce been more curious in the formation of next to blindness, and am ready to believe any its seat, the eye, than of the organs of the thing that is reported of his ability this way; other senses. That stupendous machine is and know that many, who could not purchase composed, in a wonderful manner, of muscles. This assistance with money, have enjoyed it membranes, and humours. Its motions are
from his charity. But a list of particulars admirably directed by the muscles; the per-1"
would swell my letter beyond its bounds : spicuity of the humours transmits the rays of
f what I have said being sufficient to comfort Tight; the rays are regularly refracted by their those who are in the like distress, since they ngure; the black lining of the sclerotes effec. may conceive hopes of being no longer misetually prevents their being confounded by re-rab!
re rable in this kind, while there is yet alive so flection. It is wonderful indeed to considerable an
able an oculist as Dr. Grant. how many objects the eye is fitted to take in
'I am the Spectator's at once, and successively in an instant, and
• humble servant, at the sanje time to make a judgment of their
PHILANTHROPUS.' position, figure, or colour. It watches against our dangers, guides our steps, and lets in all No 473.] Tuesday, September 2, 1712. the visible objects, whose beauty and variety instruct and delight.
Quid ? si quis vultu torvo ferus et pede nudo,
Exiguæque togæ simulet textore Catonem; The pleasures and advantages of sight be Virtutemne repræsentet, moresque Catonie! ing so great, the loss must be very grievous;
Hor. Ep. xix. Lib. 1. 12. of which Milton, from experience, gives the Suppose a man the coarsest gown should wear, most sensible idea, both in the third book of No shoes, his forehead rough, his look severe, his Paradise Lost, and in his Samson Agonis
And ape great Cato in his form and dress; tes.
Must he his virtuos and his mind express! Creech. * To light, in the former:
To the Spectator.
“SIR -Thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sov'reigu vital lamp; but thou
'I am now in the country, and employ most of my time in reading, or thinking upon what