Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

treading, at every step, upon every other
board in the flooring. Every reader will
recollect several instances of this nature
without my assistance. I think
assistance. I think it was Gre-
gorio Leti, who had published as many
books as he was years old;* which was a
rule he had laid down and punctually ob-
served to the year of his death. It was,
përhaps, a thought of the like nature which
determined Homer himself to divide each
of his poems into as many books as there
are letters in the Greek alphabet. Hero-
dotus has in the same manner adapted his
books to the number of the muses, for
which reason many a learned man hath
wished there had been more than nine of
that sisterhood.

Several epic poets have religiously followed Virgil as to the number of his books: and even Milton is thought by many to have changed the number of his books from ten to twelve for no other reason; as Cowley tells us, it was his design, had he finished his Davideis, to have also imitated the Æneid in this particular. I believe every one will agree with me that a perfection of this nature hath no foundation in reason; and, with due respect to these great names, may be looked upon as something whimsical.

I mention these great examples in defence of my bookseller, who occasioned this eighth volume of Spectators, because, as he said, he thought seven a very odd number. On the other side, several grave reasons were urged on this important subJect; as in particular, that seven was the precise number of the wise men, and that the most beautiful constellation in the heavens was composed of seven stars. This he allowed to be true, but still insisted that seven was an odd number: suggesting at the same time, that if he were provided with a sufficient stock of leading papers, he should find friends ready enough to carry on the work. Having by this means got his vessel launched and set afloat, he hath committed the steerage of it, from time to time, to such as he thought capable of conducting it.

The close of this volume, which the town may now expect in a little time, may possibly ascribe each sheet to its proper author.

It were no hard task to continue this paper a considerable time longer by the help of large contributions sent from unknown hands.

I cannot give the town a better opinion of the Spectator's correspondents than by publishing the following letter, with a very fine copy of verses upon a subject perfectly

new.

*This voluminous writer boasted that he had been the author of a book and the father of a child for twenty years successively. Swift counted the number of steps ne had made from London to Chelsea. And it is said and demonstrated in the Parentalia, that bishop Wren walked round the earth while a prisoner in the tower of London.

[ocr errors]

'Dublin, Nov. 30, 1714.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-You lately recom mended to your female readers the good old custom of their grandmothers, who used to lay out a great part of their time in needle-work. I entirely agree with you in your sentiments, and think it would not be of less advantage to themselves and their posterity, than to the reputation of many of their good neighbours, if they passed many of those hours in this innocent entertainment which are lost at the tea-table. I would, however, humbly offer to your consideration the case of the poetical ladies, who, though they may be willing to take any advice given them by the Spectator, yet cannot so easily quit their pen and ink as you may imagine. Pray allow them, at least now and then, to indulge themselves in other amusements of fancy when they are tired with stooping to their tapestry. There is a very particular kind of work, which of late several ladies here in our kingdom are very fond of, which seems very well adapted to a poetical genius: it is the making of grottos. I know a lady who has a very beautiful one, composed by herself; nor is there one shell in it not stuck up by her own hands. I here send you a poem to the fair architect, which I would not offer to herself until I knew whether this method of a lady's passing her time were approved of by the British Spectator; which, with the poem, I submit to your censure, who am your constant reader, and humble serA. B.' vant,

[blocks in formation]

what hands, Calypso, could have form'd but thine?
"A grotto so complete, with such design,
Each chequer'd pebble, and each shining shell,
So well proportion'd, and dispos'd so well,
Surprising lustre from thy thought receive,
Assuming beauties more than nature give.
To her their various shapes and glossy hue,
Their curious symmetry they owe to you.
Made willing stones dance to the Theban wall,
Not fam'd Amphion's lute, whose powerful call
In more harmonious ranks could make them fall
Not evening cloud a brighter arch can show.
Nor richer colours paint the heavenly how

"Where can unpolish'd nature boast a piece
In all her mossy cells exact as this?
At the gay party-colour'd scene we start,
For chance too regular, too rude for art.

"Charm'd with the sight, my ravish'd breast is fir d
With hints like those which ancient bards inspir'd ;
All the feign'd tales by superstition told,
All the bright train of fabled nymphs of old,
Th' enthusiastic muse believes are true,
Thinks the spot sacred, and its genius you.
Lost in wild rapture would she fain disclose
How by degrees the pleasing wonder rose;
Industrious in a faithful verse to trace

The various beauties of the lovely place;
And, while she keeps the glowing work ir. view
Through every maze thy artful hand pursue.

"O, were I equal to the bold design,
That could rude shells in such sweet order place,
Give common objects such uncommon grace!
Like them, my well-chose words in every line
As sweetly temper'd should as sweetly shine.
So just a fancy should my numbers warm,
Like the gay piece should the description charm.
Then with superior strength my voice l'd raise,
The echoing grotto should approve my lays,
Pleas'd to reflect the well-sung founder's praise "

or could I boast such happy art as thine,

No. 633.] Wednesday, December 15, 1714. Omnia profecto, cum se a cœlestibus rebus referet ad humanas, excelsius magnificentiusque et dicet et sentiet.

Cicero.

The contemplation of celestial things will make a man both speak and think more sublimely and magnificently when he descends to human affairs.

THE following discourse is printed, as it came to my hands, without variation.

'Cambridge, Dec. 11.

powe. of moving the affections. There is another part of eloquence which is, indeed, its master-piece; I mean the marvellous or sublime. In this the Christian orator has the advantage beyond contradiction. Our ideas are so infinitely enlarged by revelapect into eternity, the notions of a Deity tion, the eye of reason has so wide a prosare so worthy and refined, and the accounts we have of a state of happiness or misery It was a very common inquiry among so clear and evident, that the contemplathe ancients, why the number of excellent tion of such objects will give our discourse orators, under all the encouragements the a noble vigour, an invincible force, beyond most flourishing states could give them, fell the power of any human consideration. so far short of the number of those who ex- Tully requires in his perfect orator some celled in all other sciences. A friend of mine skill in the nature of heavenly bodies; beused merrily to apply to this case an ob- cause, says he, his mind will become more servation of Herodotus, who says, that the extensive and unconfined; and when he most useful animals are the most fruitful in descends to treat of human affairs, he will their generation; whereas the species of both think and write in a more exalted and those beasts that are fierce and mischievous magnificent manner. For the same reason, to mankind are but scarcely continued. that excellent master would have recomThe historian instances in a hare, which mended the study of those great and gloalways either breeds or brings forth; and a rious mysteries which revelation has dislioness, which brings forth but once, and covered to us; to which the noblest parts then loses all power of conception. But of this system of the world are as much inleaving my friend to his mirth, I am offerior as the creature is less excellent than opinion that in these latter ages we have greater cause of complaint than the ancients had. And since that solemn festival is approaching,* which calls for all the power of oratory, and which affords as noble a subject for the pulpit as any revelation has taught us, the design of this paper shall be to show, that our moderns have greater advantages towards true and solid eloquence than any which the celebrated speakers of antiquity enjoyed.

its Creator. The wisest and most knowing among the heathens had very poor and imperfect notions of a future state. They had indeed some uncertain hopes, either received by tradition, or gathered by reason, that the existence of virtuous men would not be determined by the separation of soul and body; but they either disbelieved a future state of punishment and misery; or, upon the same account that The first great and substantial differ- only towards the spectator, that the loss of Appelles painted Antigonous with one side ence is, that their common-places, in which his eye might not cast a blemish upon the almost the whole force of amplification con- whole piece: so these represented the consists, were drawn from the profit or honesty dition of man in its fairest view, and enof the action, as they regarded only this pre-deavoured to conceal what they thought sent state of duration. But Christianity, as was a deformity to human nature. it exalts morality to a greater perfection, often observed, that whenever the above I have as it brings the consideration of another mentioned orator in his philosophical dislife into the question, as it proposes re- courses is led by his argument to the wards and punishments of a higher nature, mention of immortality, he seems like one and a longer continuance, is more adapted awakened out of sleep: roused and alarmto affect the minds of the audience, na-ed with the dignity of the subject, he turally inclined to pursue what it imagines its greatest interest and concern. If Pericles, as historians report, could shake the firmest resolution of his hearers, and set the passions of all Greece in a ferment, when the present welfare of his country, or the fear of hostile invasions, was the subject; what may be expected from that orator who warns his audience against those evils which have no remedy, when once undergone, either from prudence or time? As much greater as the evils in a future state are than these at present, so much are the motives to persuasion under Christianity greater than those which mere moral considerations could supply us with. But what I now mention relates only to the

[graphic]

* Christmas.

stretches his imagination to conceive something uncommon, and, with the greatness of his thoughts, casts, as it were, a glory round the sentence. Uncertain and unsettled as he was, he seems fired with the contemplation of it. And nothing but such a glorious prospect could have forced so great a lover of truth as he was, to declare his resolution never to part with his per suasion of immortality, though it should be proved to be an erroneous one. he lived to see all that Christianity has But had brought to light, how would he have lavished out all the force of eloquence in those roblest contemplations which human nature is capable of, the resurrection and the judgment that follows it! How had his breast glowed with pleasure, when the whole compass of futurity lay open and

exposed to his view! How would his ima- | credit have assured us, that all attempts gination have hurried him on in the pursuit upon the affections, and strokes of cratory, of the mysteries of the incarnation! How would he have entered with the force of lightning, into the affections of his hearers, and fixed their attention, in spite of all the opposition of corrupt nature, upon those glorious themes which his eloquence hath painted in such lively and lasting colours!

were expressly forbidden, by the laws of that country, in courts of judicature. His want of eloquence therefore here was the effect of his exact conformity to the laws; but his discourse on the resurrection to the Corinthians, his harangue before Agrippa upon his own conversion, and the necessity This advantage Christians have; and it of that of others, are truly great, and may was with no small pleasure I lately met serve as full examples to those excellent with a fragment of Longinus, which is pre- rules for the sublime, which the best of served as a testimony of that critic's judg-critics has left us. The sum of all this disment, at the beginning of a manuscript of course is, that our clergy have no farther to the New Testament in the Vatican library, look for an example of the perfection they After that author has numbered up the may arrive at, than to St. Paul's harangues; most celebrated orators among the Gre-that when he, under the want of several cians, he says, "add to these Paul of Tar-advantages of nature, as he himself tells us, sus, the patron of an opinion not yet fully was heard, admired, and made a standard proved. As a heathen, he condemns the to succeeding ages by the best judges of a Christian religion; and, as an impartial different persuasion in religion; I say, our critic, he judges in favour of the promoter clergy may learn that, however instructive and preacher of it. To me it seems that their sermons are, they are capable of rethe latter part of his judgment adds great ceiving a great addition: which St. Paul has weight to his opinion of St. Paul's abilities, given them a noble example of, and the since, under all the prejudice of opinions Christian religion has furnished them with directly opposite, he is constrained to ac- certain means of attaining to.' knowledge the merit of that apostle. And no doubt, such as Longinus describes St. Paul, such he appeared to the inhabitants No. 634.] Friday, December 17, 1714.

وو

Ο ελαχιστων δεόμενος έγγιστα Θεων.
Socrates apud Xen.

The fewer our wants, the nearer we resemble the gods.

of those countries which he visited and blessed with those doctrines he was divinely commissioned to preach. Sacred story gives us, in one circumstance, a convincing proof of his eloquence, when the men of Lystra IT was the common boast of the heathen called him Mercury, "because he was the philosophers, that by the efficacy of their chief speaker ;" and would have paid divine several doctrines, they made human nature worship to him, as to the god who invented resemble the divine. How much mistaken and presided over eloquence. This one ac-soever they might be in the several means count of our apostle sets his character, con- they proposed for this end, it must be sidered as an orator only, above all the owned that the design was great and gloricelebrated relations of the skill and influ- ous. The finest works of invention and ence of Demosthenes and his contempora- imagination are of very little weight when ries. Their power in speaking was admired, put in the balance with what refines and but still it was thought human: their elo- exalts the rational mind. Longinus excuses quence warmed and ravished the hearers, Homer very handsomely, when he says the but still it was thought the voice of man, poet made his gods like men, that he might not the voice of God. What advantage make his men appear like the gods. But it then had St. Paul above those of Greece or must be allowed that several of the ancient Rome? I confess I can ascribe this excel- philosophers acted as Cicero wishes Homer lence to nothing but the power of the doc-had done: they endeavoured rather to make trines he delivered, which may have still the same influence on the hearers; which have still the power, when preached by a skilful orator, to make us break out in the same expressions as the disciples who met our Saviour in their way to Emmaus made use of; "Did not our hearts burn within us when he talked to us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?" I may be thought bold in my judgment, by some, but I must affirm, that no one orator has left us so visible marks and footsteps of his eloquence as our apostle. It may perhaps be wondered at, that in his reasonings upon idolatry at Athens, where eloquence was Dorn and flourished, he confines himself to strict argument only; but my reader may remember what many authors of the best

men like gods, than gods like men.

According to this general maxim in philosophy, some of them have endeavoured to place men in such a state of pleasure, or indolence at least, as they vainly imagined the happiness of the Supreme Being to consist in. On the other hand, the most virtuous sect of philosophers have created a chimerical wise man, whom they made exempt from passion and pain, and thought it enough to pronounce him all-sufficient.

This last character, when divested of the glare of human philosophy that surrounds it, signifies no more than that a good and wise man should so arm himself with patience, as not to yield tamely to the violence of passion and pain; that he should learn so to suppress and contract his desires as to

nave few wants; and that he should cherish | son and goodness, the only things wherein so many virtues in his soul as to have a per- we can imitate the Supreme Being. In the petual source of pleasure in himself. next life we meet with nothing to excite The Christian religion requires that, after our inclinations that doth not deserve them. having framed the best idea we are able of I shall therefore dismiss my reader with the divine nature, it should be our next care this maxim, viz. Our happiness in this to conform ourselves to it as far as our im-world proceeds from the suppression of our perfections will permit. I might mention desires, but in the next world from the several passages in the sacred writings on gratification of them.' this head, to which I might add many maxims and wise sayings of moral authors among the Greeks and Romans.

No. 635.] Monday, December 20, 1714.

Sentio te sedem hominum ac domum contemplari; quæ si tibi parva (ut est) ita videtur, hæc cœlestia semper spectato; illa humana contemnito. Cicero Somn. Scip.

of men; which if it appears as little to you as it really I perceive you contemplate the seat and habitation is, fix your eyes perpetually upon heavenly objects, and

genious author of the letter upon novelty, THE following essay comes from the inprinted in a late Spectator:† the notions are drawn from the Platonic way of thinking; but, as they contribute to raise the mind, and may inspire noble sentiments of our own future grandeur and happiness, I think it well deserves to be presented to the public.

I shall only instance a remarkable passage, to this purpose, out of Julian's Cæsars.* That emperor having represented all the Roman emperors, with Alexander the Great, as passing in review before the gods, and striving for the superiority, lets them all drop, excepting Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Augustus Cæsar, Trajan, Marcus Au-despise earthly. relius, and Constantine. Each of these great heroes of antiquity lays in his claim for the upper place; and, in order to it, sets forth his actions after the most advantageous manner. But the gods, instead of being dazzled with the lustre of their actions, inquire by Mercury into the proper motive and governing principle that influenced them throughout the whole series of their lives and exploits., Alexander tells them, that his aim was to conquer; Julius Cæsar, that his was to gain the highest post in his country; Augustus, to govern well; Trajan, that his was the same as that of Alexander, namely, to conquer. The question, at length, was put to Marcus Aurelius, who replied, with great modesty, that it had always been his care to imitate the gods. This conduct seems to have gained him the most votes and best place in the whole assembly. Marcus Aurelius, being afterwards asked to explain himself, declares that, by imitating the gods, he endeavoured to imitate them in the use of his understanding, and of all other faculties; and in particular, that it was always his study to have as few wants as possible in himself, and to do all the good he could to others.

|

If the universe be the creature of an intelligent mind, this mind could have no immediate regard to himself in producing it. He needed not to make trial of his omnipotence to be informed what effects were within its reach; the world, as existing in his eternal idea, was then as beautiful as now it is drawn forth into being; and in the immense abyss of his essence are contained far brighter scenes than will be ever set forth to view; it being impossible that the great Author of nature should bound his own power by giving existence to a system of creatures so perfect that he cannot improve upon it by any other exertions of his almighty will. Between finite and infinite there is an unmeasured interval, not to be filled up in endless ages; for which reason, the most excellent of all God's works must be equally short of what his power is able to produce as the most imperfect, and may be exceeded with the same ease.

Among the many methods by which revealed religion has advanced morality, this is one, that it has given us a more just and perfect idea of that Being whom every rea- This thought hath made some imagine sonable creature ought to imitate. The (what it must be confessed is not imposyoung man, in a heathen comedy, might|sible,) that the unfathomed space is ever justify his lewdness by the example of Jupiter; as, indeed, there was scarce any crime that might not be countenanced by those notions of the deity which prevailed among the common people in the heathen world. Revealed religion sets forth a proper object for imitation, in that Being who is the pattern, as well as the source, of all spiritual perfection.

While we remain in this life, we are subject to innumerable temptations, which, if listened to, will make us deviate from rea

* Spanheim, Les Cesars de l'Empereur Julien, 4to, 1723

teeming with new births, the younger still inheriting greater perfection than the elder. But as this doth not fall within my present view, I shall content myself with taking notice, that the consideration now mentioned proves undeniably, that the ideal worlds in the divine understanding yield a prospect incomparably more ample, various, and delightful, than any created world can do: and that, therefore, as it is not to be supposed that God should make a world merely of inanimate matter, however diversified, or inhabited only by creatures of no

† No. 626.

globe, shall ere long shoot away with the swiftness of imagination, trace out the hidden springs of nature's operations, be able to keep pace with the heavenly bodies in the rapidity of their career, be a spectator of the long chain of events in the natural and moral worlds, visit the several apart

furnished and how inhabited, comprehend the order, and measure the magnitudes and distances of those orbs, which to us seem disposed without any regular design, and set all in the same circle; observe the dependence of the parts of each system, and (if our minds are big enough to grasp the theory) of the several systems upon one another, from whence results the harmony of the universe. In eternity, a great deal may be done of this kind. I find it of use to cherish this generous ambition; for, besides the secret refreshment it diffuses through my soul, it engages me in an endeavour to improve my faculties, as well as to exercise them conformably to the rank I now hold among reasonable beings, and the hope I have of being once advanced

higher an order than brutes, so the end for which he designed his reasonable offspring in the contemplation of his works, the enjoyment of himself, and in both to be happy; having, to this purpose, endowed them with correspondent faculties and desires. He can have no greater pleasure from a bare review of his works than from a sur-ments of the creation, know how they are vey of his own ideas; but we may be assured that he is well pleased in the satisfaction derived to beings capable of it, and for whose entertainment he hath erected this immense theatre. Is not this more than an intimation of our immortality? Man, who, when considered as on his probation for a happy existence hereafter, is the most remarkable instance of divine wisdom, if we cut him off from all relation to eternity, is the most wonderful and unaccountable composition in the whole creation. He hath capacities to lodge a much greater variety of knowledge than he will be ever master of, and an unsatisfied curiosity to tread the secret paths of nature and providence: but, with this, is organs, in their present structure, are rather fitted to serve the necessities of a vile body, than to minister to his under-to a more exalted station. standing; and, from the little spot to which he is chained, he can frame but wandering guesses concerning the innumerable worlds of light that encompass him; which, though in themselves of a prodigious bigness, do but just glimmer in the remote spaces of the heavens: and when, with a great deal of time and pains, he hath laboured a little way up the steep ascent of truth, and beholds with pity the grovelling multitude beneath, in a moment his foot slides, and he tumbles down headlong into the grave.

ihe other, and that the ultimate end of man, is the enjoyment of God, beyond which he cannot form a wish. Dim at best are the conceptions we have of the Supreme Being, who, as it were, keeps his creatures in suspense, neither discovering nor hiding himself; by which means, the libertine hath a handle to dispute his existence, while the most are content to speak him fair, but in their hearts prefer every trifling satisfaction to the favour of their Maker, and ridicule the good man for the singularity of his choice. Will there not a time come, when the free-thinker shall see his impious schemes overturned, and be made a convert to the truths he hates? when deluded mortals shall be convinced of the folly of their pursuits; and the few wise who followed the guidance of Heaven, and, scorning the blandishments of sense, and the sordid bribery of the world, aspired to a

Thinking on this, I am obliged to believe, in justice to the Creator of the world, that there is another state when man shall be better situated for contemplation, or rather have it in his power to remove from object to object, and from world to world; and be accommodated with senses, and other helps, for making the quickest and most amazing discoveries. How does such a genius as Sir Isaac Newton, from amidst the dark-celestial abode, shall stand possessed of ness that involves human understanding, break forth, and appear like one of another species! The vast machine we inhabit lies open to him; he seems not unacquainted with the general laws that govern it, and while with the transport of a philosopher he beholds and admires the glorious work, he is capable of paying at once a more devout and more rational homage to his Maker. But, alas! how narrow is the prospect even of such a mind! And how obscure to the compass that is taken in by the ken of an angel, or of a soul but newly escaped from its imprisonment in the body! For my part, I freely indulge my soul in the confidence of its future grandeur; it pleases me to think that I, who know so small a portion of the works of the Creator, and with slow and painful steps creep up and down on the surface of this VOL. II

55

their utmost wish in the vision of the Creator? Here the mind heaves a thought now and then towards him, and hath some transient glances of his presence: when in the instant it thinks itself to have the fastest hold, the object eludes its expectations, and it falls back tired and baffled to the ground. Doubtless there is some more perfect way of conversing with heavenly beings. Are not spirits capable of mutual intelligence, unless immersed in bodies, or by their intervention? Must superior natures depend on inferior for the main privilege of social beings, that of conversing with and knowing each other? What would they have done had matter never been created? I suppose, not have lived in eternal solitude. As incorporeal substances are of a nobler order, so, be sure, their manner of intercourse is answerably more expedite and intimate. This

« AnteriorContinuar »