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was for higher Beings than Men to join Happiness and Greatness in the same Idea; but that in our Condition we have no Conception of superlative Excellence, or He. roism, but as it is surrounded with a Shade of Distress.
IT is certainly the proper Education we should give our selves, to be prepared for the ill Events and Accidents we are to meet with in a Life sentenced to be a Scene of Sorrow: But instead of this Expectation, we soften our selves with Prospects of constant Delight, and destroy in our Minds the Seeds of Fortitude and Virtue, which should support us in Hours of Anguish. The constant Pursuit of Pleasure has in it something insolent and improper for our Being. There is a pretty fober Liveliness in the Ode of Horace to Delius, where he tells him, loud Mirth, or immoderate Sorrow, Inequality of Behaviour either in Profperity or Adversity, are alike ungraceful in Man that is born to die. Moderation in both Circumstances is peculiar to generous Minds: Men of that Sort ever taste the Gratifications of Health, and all other Advantages of Life, as if they were liable to part with them, and when bereft of them, resign them with a greatness of Mind which thews they know their Value and Duration. The Contempt of Pleasure is a certain Preparatory for the Contempt of Pain: Without this the Mind is as it were taken suddenly by an unforeseen Event ; but he that has always, during Health and Prosperity, been abstinent in his Satisfactions, enjoys, in the worst of Difficulties, the Refection, that his Anguish is not aggravated with the Comparison of paft Pleasures which upbraid his present Condition. Tully tells us a Story after Pompey, which gives us a good Taste of the pleasant Manner the Men of Wit and Philosophy had in old Times of alleviating the Dif. treffes of Life by the Force of Reason and Philosophy. Pompey when he came to Rhodes, had a Curiosity to vifit the famous Philosopher Posidonius; but finding him in his fick Bed, he bewailed the Misfortune that he thould not hear a Discourse from him : But you may, answered Posidonius; and immediately entered into the point of Stoical Philosophy, which fáys Pain is not an Evil. During the Discourse, upon every Puncture he felt from his Distemper, he smiled and cried out, Pain, Pain, be as impertinent and troublesome as you please, I lhall never own that thou art an Evil.
Mr. SPECTATOR, "U AVING seen in several of your Papers, a Con601 cern for the Honour of the Clergy, and their • doing every thing as becomes their Character, and par. ticularly performing the Publick Service with a due Žeal • and Devotion; I am the more encouraged to lay before
them, by your Means, several Expressions used by some
of them in their Prayers before Sermon, which I am • not well satisfied in : As their giving some Titles and E
. pithets to great Men, which are indeed due to them in • their several Ranks and Stations, but not properly used, • I think, in our Prayers. Is it not Contradiction to say, • Illustrious, Right Reverend, and Right Honourable poor 'Sinners? These Distinctions are suited only to our State • here, and have no place in Heaven: We see they are ou ' mitted in the Liturgy; which I think the Clergy should ( take for their Pattern in their own Forms of Devotion. • There is another Expression which I would not men: • tion, but that I have heard it several times before a learn• ed Congregation, to bring in the last Petition of the Pray• er in these Words, O let not the Lord be angry and I will • sprak but this once; as if there was no Difference between • Abraham's interceding for Sodom, for which he had no · Warrant as we can find, and our asking those Things which we are required to pray for; they would there
fore have much more Reason to fear his Anger if they I did not make such Petitions to him. There is another • pretty Fancy: When a young Man has a mind to let us « know who gave him his Scarf, he speaks a Parenthesis a to the Almighty, Bless, as I am in Duty bound to pray, o the right honourable the Countess ; is not that as much o as to say, Bless her, for thou knowelt I am her Chap
Thursday, February 28.
Exigite at mores teneros ceu pollice ducat,
Í Shall give the following Letter no other Recommen|dation, than by telling my Readers that it comes from
the same Hand with that of last Thursday.
SIR, "s Send you, according to my Promise, fome farther "I Thoughts on the Education of Youth, in which " I intend to discuss that famous Question, Whether the E. • ducation at a publick School, or under a private Tutor, • is to be preferr'd?
'AS some of the greatest Men in most Ages have been • of very different Opinions in this Matter, I shall give "a fhort Account of what I think may be best urged on • both fides, and afterwards leave every Person to de• termine for himself. · •IT is certain from Suetonius, that the Romans thought o the Education of their Children a business properly be. • longing to the Parents themselves ; and Plutarch, in the · Life of Marcus Cato, tells us, that as soon as his Son was s capable of Learning, Cato would suffer no Body to teach • him but himself, tho' he had a Servant named Ghilo, who ' was an excellent Grammarian, and who taught a great « many other Youths.
•ON the contrary, the Greeks seemed more inclined • to Publick Schools and Seminaries.
A private Education promises in the first place Virtue * and Good-Breeding; a publick School Manly Assurance, • and an early Knowledge in the Ways of the World.
Mr. Locke in his celebrated Treatise of Education, con• fesses that there are Inconveniencies to be feared on both ' fides; If, says he, I keep my Son at home, he is in dan.
ger of becoming my young Master; If I send him Abread, it is scarce poffible to keep him from the reigning Contagion
• of Rudeness and Vice. He vill perhaps be more innocent • at Home, but more ignorant of the World, and more
Jeepish when he comes Abroad. However as this learned • Author asserts, That Virtue is much more difficult to
be attained than Knowledge of the World ; and that. • Vice is a more stubborn, as well as a more dangerous .. Fault than Sheepishness, he is altogether for a private « Education; and the more fo, because he does not see ' why a Youth, with right Management might not at• tain the fame Assurance in his Father's House, as at a i publick School. To this end he advises Parents to ac• Custom their Sons to what ever strange Faces come to 6 the House ; to take them with them when they visit • their Neighbours, and to engage them in Conversation * with Men of Parts and Breeding,
IT may be objected to this Method, that Conversa« tion is not the only thing necessary, but that unless it s be a Conversation with such as are in some measure their • Equals in Parts and Years, there can be no room for EI mulation, Contention, and several of the most lively Pas.
sions of the Mind; which without being sometimes ' moved by these means, may possibly contract a Dulness 6 and insensibility.
"ONE of the greatest Writers our Nation ever pro• duced obferves, That a Boy who forms Parties, and 6. makes himself Popular in a School or a College, would « act the same Part with equal ease in a Senate or a Pri« vy Council; and Mr. Osburn speaking like a Man verfed
in the ways of the World, affirms, that the well laying • and carrying ca of a design to rob an Orchard, trains • up a Youth infenfibly to Caution, Secrecy and Circum.. & spection, and fits him for Matters of greater Importance.
II N short, a private Education seems the most natural • Method for the forming of a virtuous Man ; a Publick • Education for making a Man of Business. The first * would furnish out a good Subject for Plato's Republick, s the latter a Member for a Community over-run with. • Artifice and Corruption.
• IT muft however be confessed, that a Person at the • head of a publick School has sometimes so many Boys
under his Direction, that it is impoffible he should extend 6 a due proportion of his Care to each of them. This is
• however in reality, the Fault of the Age, in which we
often feetwenty Parents, who, tho’each expects his Son • should be made a Scholar, are not contented all together « to make it worth while for any Man of a liberal Edus • cation to take upon him the care of their Instruction.
"IN our great Schools indeed this Fault has been of • late Years rectified, so that we have at present not only • Ingenious Men for the chief Masters, but such as have
proper Ushers and Affiftants under them ; I must never• theless own, that for want of the fame Encouragement ' in the Country, we have many a promising Genius • spoiled and abused in those little Seminaries,
i I am the more inclined to this Opinion, having my • self experienced the Usage of two Rural Masters, each • of them very unfit for the Trust they took upon them • to discharge. The first imposed much more upon me • than my Parts, tho' none of the weakeit, could endure; • and used me barbarously for not performing Impoffibi• lities. The latter was of quite another Temper; and a • Boy, who would run upon his Errands, wash his Cof • fee-pot, or ring the Bell, might have as little Conver• fation with any of the Clafficks as he thought fit. I have. • known a Lad of this place excused his Exercise for as• fisting the Cook Maid ; and remember a neighbouring • Gentleman's Son was among us five Years, most of • which time he employed in airing and watering our • Master's grey Pad. I scorned to Compound for my • Faults, by doing any of these Elegant Offices, and was • accordingly the best Scholar, and the worst used of any • Boy in the School.
Í shall conclude this Discourse with an Advantage r mentioned by Quintilian, as accompanying a Publick « way of Education, which I have not yet taken notice o of; namely, That we very often contract such Friend. • ships at School, as are a Service to us all the following • Parts of our Lives..
« I shall give you, under this Head, a Story very well • known to several Persons, and which you may depend • upon as real Truth.
• EVERY one, who is acquainted with Westminster• School, knows that there is a Curtain which used to be drawn across the Room, to separate the upper School