things terrible; they raise a new creation | ticularly performing the public service with of monsters, dragons, and giants; where a due zeal and devotion; I am the more enthe danger ends the hero ceases: when he couraged to lay before them by your means, has won an empire or gained his mistress, several expressions used by some of them the rest of his story is not worth relating. in their prayers before sermon, which I am My friend carried his discourse so far as to not well satisfied in. As their giving some say, that it was for higher beings than men titles and epithets to great men, which are to join happiness and greatness in the same indeed due to them in their several ranks idea; but that in our condition we have no and stations, but not properly used, I think, conception of superlative excellence, or he- in our prayers. Is it not contradiction to roism, but as it is surrounded with a shade say, illustrious, right reverend, and right of distress. honourable poor sinners? These distinc tions are suited only to our state here, and have no place in heaven; we see they are omitted 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 mention, but that I have heard it several times before a learned congregation, to bring in the last petition of the prayer in these words, "O let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak 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 therefore have much more reason to fear his anger, if they 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 to the Almighty. "Bless, as I am in duty bound to pray, the right honourable the countess;" is not that as much as to say, "Bless her, for thou knowest I am her chaplain?" Your humble servant, T. 'J. O.' It is certainly the proper education we should give ourselves 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 ourselves 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 sober liveliness in the ode of Horace to Delius, where he tells him, loud mirth, or immoderate sorrow, inequality of behaviour, either in prosperity 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 shows 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 No. 313.] his satisfactions, enjoys, in the worst of difficulties, the reflection, that his anguish is not aggravated with the comparison of past 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 distresses of life by the force of reason and philosophy. Pompey, when he came to Rhodes, had a curiosity to visit the famous philosopher Possidonius; but finding him in his sick bed, he bewailed the misfortune that he should not hear a discourse from him: But you may,' answered Possidonius; and immediately entered into the point of stoical philosophy, which says, 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 shall never own that thou art an evil.' 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Having seen in several of your papers a concern for the honour of the clergy, and their doing every thing as becomes their character, and par Thursday, Feb. 28, 1711-12. Exigite ut mores teneros seu pollice ducat Juv. Sat. vii. 237. Bid him besides his daily pains employ, I SHALL give the following letter no other recommendation than by telling my *In the original folio edition of this paper, there was the following passage, after the above sentence. [Another expression which I take to be improper, is this, the whole race of mankind,' when they pray for all men; for race signifies lineage or descent; and if the race of mankind may be used for the present gene. ration, (though, I think, not very fitly) the whole race takes in all from the beginning to the end of the world. I do not remember to have met with that expression, in their sense, any where but in the old version of Psalm xiv, which those men, I suppose, have but little esteem for. And some, when they have prayed for all schools and nurseries of good learning and true religion, especially the two universities, add these words, Grant that from them, and all other places dedicated to thy wor ship and service, may come forth such persons,' &c. But what do they mean by all other places? It seems to me, that this is either a tautology, as being the same with all schools and nurseries before expressed, or else it the divine service, which cannot properly be intended runs too far; for there are several places dedicated to here.] readers that it comes from the same hand | One of the greatest writers our nation with that of last Thursday, 'SIR,-I send you according to my promise, some farther thoughts on the education of youth, in which I intend to discuss that famous question, "Whether the education at a public school, or under a private tutor, is to be preferred?” 'As some of the greatest men in most ages have been of very different opinions in this matter, I shall give a short account of what I think may be best urged on both sides, and afterwards leave every person to determine for himself. 'It is certain from Suetonius, that the Romans thought the education of their children a business properly belonging to the parents themselves; and Plutarch, in the life of Marcus Cato, tells us, that as soon as his son was capable of learning, Cato would suffer nobody to teach him but himself, though he had a servant named Chilo, who was an excellent grammarian, and who taught a great many other youths. 'On the contrary, the Greeks seemed more inclined to public schools and seminaries. 'A private education promises, in the first place, virtue and good breeding; and a public school, manly assurance, and an early knowledge in the ways of the world. 'Mr. Locke, in his celebrated treatise of education, confesses, that there are inconveniences to be feared on both sides: "If," says he, "I keep my son at home, he is in danger of becoming my young master; if I send him abroad, it is scarce possible to keep him from the reigning contagion of rudeness and vice. He will perhaps be more innocent at home, but more ignorant of the world, and more sheepish when he comes abroad." However, as this learned author asserts, that virtue is much more difficult to be obtained 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 so, because he does not see why a youth, with right management, might not attain the same assurance in his father's house as at a public school. To this end, he advises parents to accustom their sons to whatever strange faces come to the house: to take them with them when they visit their neighbours, and to engage them in conversation with men of parts and breeding. ever produced, observes, that a boy who forms parties, and makes himself popular in a school or a college would act the same part with equal ease in a senate or a privy council; and Mr. Osborne, speaking like a man versed in the ways of the world, affirms, that the well laying and carrying on a design to rob an orchard, trains up a youth insensibly to caution, secrecy, and circumspection, and fits him for matters of greater importance. In short, a private education seems the most natural method for the forming of a virtuous man; a public education for making a man of business. The first would furnish out a good subject for Plato's republic, the latter a member of a community overrun with artifice and corruption. It must, however, be confessed, that a person at the head of a public school has sometimes so many boys under his direction, that it is impossible he should extend a due proportion of his care to each of them. This is, however, in reality, the fault of the age, in which we often see twenty parents, who, though each expects his son should be made a scholar, are not contented altogether to make it worth while for any man of a liberal education to take upon him the care of their instruction. In our great schools, indeed, this fault has been of te years rectified, so that we have at present not only ingenious men for the chief masters, but such as have proper ushers and assistants under them. I must nevertheless own, that for want of the same encouragement in the country, we have many a promising genius spoiled and abused in those little seminaries. 'I am the more inclined to this opinion, having myself 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, though none of the weakest, could endure; and used me barbarously for not performing impossibilities. The latter was of quite another temper; and a boy who would run upon his errands, wash his coffee-pot, or ring the bell, might have as little conversation with any of the classics as he thought fit. I have known a lad at this place excused his exercise for assisting 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 It may be objected to this method, that our master's gray pad. I scorned to comconversation is not the only thing neces-pound for my faults by doing any of these sary; but that unless it be a conversation elegant offices, and was accordingly the with such as are in some measure their best scholar, and the worst used of any boy equals in parts and years, there can be no in the school. room for emulation, contention, and several of the most lively passions of the mind; which, without being sometimes moved, by these means, many possibly contract a dulness and insensibility. 'I shall conclude this discourse with an advantage mentioned by Quintilian, as accompanying a public way of education, which I have not yet taken notice of; namely, that we very often contract such friendships at school, as are a service to us | No. 314.] Friday, February 29, 1711-12. 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 a 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 from the lower. A youth happened, by some mischance, to tear the above-mentioned curtain. The severity of the master* was too well known for the criminal to expect any pardon for such a fault; so that the boy, who was of a meek temper, was terrified to death at the thoughts of his appearance, when his friend who sat next to him bade him be of good cheer, for that he would take the fault on himself. He kept his word accordingly. As soon as they were grown up to be men, the civil war broke out, in which our two friends took opposite sides; one of them follc wed the parliament, the other the royal party. 'As their tempers were different, the youth who had torn the curtain endeavoured to raise himself on the civil list, and the other who had borne the blame of it, on the military. The first succeeded so well that he was in a short time made a judge under the protector. The other was engaged in the unhappy enterprise of Penruddock† and Groves in the West. I suppose, sir, I need not acquaint you with the event of that undertaking. Every one knows that the royal party was routed, and all the heads of them, among whom was the curtain champion, imprisoned at Exeter. It happened to be his friend's lot at that time to go to the western circuit. The trial of the rebels, as they were then called, was very short, and nothing now remained but to pass sentence on them; when the judge hearing the name of his old friend, and observing his face more attentively, which he had not seen for many years, asked him, if he was not formerly a Westminster scholar? By the answer, he was soon convinced that it was his former generous friend; and without saying any thing more at that time, made the best of his way to London, where, employing all his power and interest with the Protector, he saved his friend from the fate of his unhappy associates. "The gentleman whose life was thus preserved by the gratitude of his school-fellow, was afterwards the father of a son, whom he lived to see promoted in the church, and who still deservedly fills one of the highest stations in it.' X. Tandem desine matrem Tempestiva sequi viro. Hor. Od. xxiii. Lib. 1. 11 Creech. 'Feb. 7, 1711-12. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a young man about eighteen years of age, and have been in love with a young woman of the same age about this half year. I go to see her six days in the week, but never could have the happiness of being with her alone. If any of her friends are at home, she will see me in their company; but if they be not in the way, she flies to her chamber. I can discover no signs of her aversion; but either a fear of falling into the toils of matrimony, or a childish timidity, deprives us of an interview apart, and drives us upon the difficulty of languishing out our lives in fruitless expectation. Now, Mr. Spectator, if you think us ripe for economy, persuade the dear creature, that to pine away into barrenness and deformity under a mother's shade, is not so honourable, nor does she appear so amiable, as she would in full bloom.' [There is a great deal left out before he concludes.] 'Mr. Spectator, your humble servant, If this gentleman be really no more than eighteen, I must do him the justice to say, he is the most knowing infant I have yet met with. He does not, I fear, yet understand, that all he thinks of is another woman; therefore, until he has given a farther account of himself, the young lady is hereby directed to keep close to her mother. THE SPECTATOR. I cannot comply with the request in Mr Trot's letter; but let it go just as it came to my hands, for being so familiar with the old gentleman, as rough as he is to him. Since Mr. Trot has an ambition to make him his father-in-law, he ought to treat him with more respect; besides, his style to me might have been more distant than he has thought fit to afford me: moreover, his mistress shall continue in her confinement, until he has found out which word in his letter is not rightly spelt. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I shall ever own myself your obliged humble servant, for the advice you gave me concerning my dancing; which, unluckily, came too late: for, as I said, I would not leave off capering until I had your opinion of the matter. I was at our famous assembly the day before I received your papers, and there was observed by an old gentleman, who was informed I had a respect for his daughter. He told me I was an insignificant little fellow, and said, that for the future he would take care of his child; so that he did not doubt but to cross my amorous inclinations. The lady "York, Feb. 23, 1711-12. 'Let me desire you to make what alterations you please, and insert this as soon as possible. Pardon mistakes by haste.' I never do pardon mistakes by haste. THE SPECTATOR. Feb. 27, 1711-12. 'SIR,-Pray be so kind as to let me know what you esteem to be the chief qualification of a good poet, especially one who writes plays; and you will very much oblige, sir, your very humble servant, N. B.' To be a very well-bred man. THE SPECTATOR. business of this claim in the audience, and let us know when we may cry, "Altro Volto," Anglice, "Again, Again," for the future. I am an Englishman, and expect some reason or other to be given me, and perhaps an ordinary one may serve; Lut I expect your answer. I am, sir, your most humble servant, TOBY RENTFREE.' 'Nov. 29. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-You must give me leave, amongst the rest of your female corwhich has already given you many a sperespondents, to address you about an affair culation; and which, I know, I need not tell you has had a very happy influence over the adult part of our sex; but as many of us are either too old to learn, or too obstinate in the pursuit of the vanities which have been bred up with us from our infancy, and all of us quitting the stage whilst you are prompting us to act our part well; you ought, methinks, rather to turn your instructions for the benefit of that part of our sex who are yet in their native innocence, and ignorant of the vices and that variety of unhappiness that reign amongst us. I must tell you, Mr. Spectator, that it is as much a part of your office to oversee the education of the female part of the nation, as well as the male; and to convince the world you are not partial, pray proceed to detect the mal-administration of governesses as successfully as you have exposed that of pedagogues; and rescue our sex from the prejudice and tyranny of education as well as that of your own, who, without your seasonable interposition, are like to improve upon the vices that are now in vogue. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-You are to know that I am naturally brave, and love fighting as well as any man in England. This gallant temper of mine makes me extremely delighted with battles on the stage. I give you this trouble to complain to you, that Nicolini refused to gratify me in that part of the opera for which I have most taste. I observe it is become a custom, that whenever any gentlemen are particularly pleased with a song, at their crying out Encore,' or "Altro Volto," the per- I who know the dignity of your post as former is so obliging as to sing it over again. Spectator, and the authority a skilful eye I was at the opera the last time Hydaspes ought to bear in the female world, could was performed. At that part of it where not forbear consulting you, and beg your the hero engages with the lion, the graceful advice in so critical a point, as is that of the manner with which he put that terrible education of young gentlewomen. Having monster to death gave me so great a plea- already provided myself with a very consure, and at the same time so just a sense of venient house in a good air, I am not withthat gentleman's intrepidity and conduct, out hope but that you will promote this that I could not forbear desiring a repeti- generous design. I must further tell you, tion of it, by crying out "Altro Volto," in sir, that all who shall be committed to my a very audible voice; and my friends flatter conduct, besides the usual accomplishments me that I pronounced these words with a of the needle, dancing, and the French tolerable good accent, considering that was tongue, shall not fail to be your constant but the third opera I had ever seen in my readers. It is therefore my humble petilife. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there tion, that you will entertain the town on was so little regard had to me, that the this important subject, and so far oblige a lion was carried off, and went to bed, with-stranger as to raise a curiosity and inquiry out being killed any more that night. Now, in my behalf, by publishing the following sir, pray consider that I did not understand advertisement. I am, sir, your constant a word of what Mr. Nicolini said to this admirer, cruel creature; besides, I have no ear for music; so that, during the long dispute between them, the whole entertainment I had was from my eyes. Why then have not I as much right to have a graceful action repeated as another has a pleasing sound, since he only hears, as I only see, and we neither of us know that there is any reasonable thing a-doing? Pray, sir, settle the ADVERTISEMENT. M. W.' The Boarding School for young Gentle women, which was formerly kept on Mile End-Green, being laid down, there is now one set up almost opposite to it, at the Two Golden Balls, and much more convenient in every respect; where, besides the common instructions given to young gentle women, they will be taught the whole art of | educated; and designs to proceed in the pastry and preserving, with whatever may said office after the same manner that render them accomplished. Those who visitants of colleges do in the two famous please to make trial of the vigilance and universities of this land. ability of the persons concerned, may inquire at the Two Golden Balls on MileEnd-Green, near Stepney, where they will receive further satisfaction. This is to give notice, that the Spectator has taken upon him to be visitant of all boarding-schools where young women are All lovers who write to the Spectator, are desired to forbear one expression, which is in most of the letters to him, either out of laziness or want of invention, and is true of not above two thousand women in the whole world: viz. She has in her all that is valuable in woman.' T. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME, |