sentiments in his conversation, if he were | chantments by which all the world are beable to conceal the strong desire of applause which he betrays in every syllable he utters. But they who converse with him, see that all the civilities they could do to him, or the kind things they could say to him, would fall short of what he expects; and therefore, instead of showing him the esteem they have for his merit, their reflections turn only upon that they observe he has of it himself.

witched) are to him uncommon benefits and new acquisitions. Health is not eaten up with care, nor pleasure interrupted by envy. It is not to him of any consequence what this man is famed for, or for what the other is prefered. He knows there is in such a place an uninterrupted walk; he can meet in such a company an agreeable conversation. He has no emulation, he is no man's rival, but every man's well-wisher; can look at a prosperous man, with a pleasure in reflecting that he hopes he is as happy as himself: and has his mind and his fortune (as far as prudence will allow) open to the unhappy and to the stranger.

If you go among the women, and behold Gloriana trip into a room with that theatrical ostentation of her charms, Mirtilla with that soft regularity in her motion, Chloe with such an indifferent familiarity, Corinna with such a fond approach, and Lucceius has learning, wit, humour, eloRoxana with such a demand of respect in quence, but no ambitious prospects to purthe great gravity of her entrance; you find sue with these advantages, therefore to the all the sex who understand themselves and ordinary world he is perhaps thought to act naturally, wait only for their absence, want spirit, but known among his friends to tell you that all these ladies would im- to have a mind of the most consummate pose themselves upon you; and each of greatness. He wants no man's admiration, is them carry in their behaviour a conscious-in no need of pomp. His clothes please him ness of so much more than they should if they are fashionable and warm; his compretend to, that they lose what would other-panions are agreeable if they are civil and wise be given them.

well-natured. There is with him no occasion for superfluity at meals, for jollity in company; in a word, for any thing extraordinary to administer delight to him. Want of prejudice, and command of appetite, are the companions which make his journey of life so easy, that he in all places meets with more wit, more good cheer, and more good humour, than is necessary to make him enjoy himself with pleasure and satisfaction.

I remember the last time I saw Macbeth, I was wonderfully taken with the skill of the poet, in making the murderer form fears to himself from the moderation of the prince whose life he was going to take away. He says of the king: He bore his faculties so meekly;' and justly inferred from thence, that all divine and human power would join to avenge his death, who had made such an abstinent use of dominion. All that is in a man's power to do to advance his own pomp and glory, and forbears, is so much laid up against the day No. 207.] Saturday, October 27, 1711. of distress; and pity will always be his portion in adversity, who acted with gentleness in prosperity.

The great officer who foregoes the advantages he might take to himself, and renounces all prudential regards to his own person in danger, has so far the merit of a volunteer; and all his honours and glories are unenvied, for sharing the common fate with the same frankness as they do, who have no such endearing circumstances to part with. But if there were no such considerations as the good effect which selfdenial has upon the sense of other men towards us, it is of all qualities the most desirable for the agreeable disposition in which it places our own minds. I cannot tell what better to say of it, than that it is the very contrary of ambition; and that modesty allays all those passions and inquietudes to which that vice exposes us. He that is moderate in his wishes from reason and choice, and not resigned from sourness, distaste, or disappointment, doubles all the pleasures of his life. The air, the season, a sunshiny day, or a fair prospect, are instances of happiness, and that which he enjoys in common with all the world, (by his exemption from the en

T.

Omnibus in terris, quæ sunt a Gadibus usque
Auroram et Gangem, pauci dignoscere possunt
Vera bona, atque illis multum diversa, remota
Erroris nebula-
Juv. Sat. x. 1.

Look round the habitable world, how few
Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue?
How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice,
Prompts the fond wish, or lifts the suppliant voice?
Dryd. Johnson, &c.

In my last Saturday's paper I laid down some thoughts upon devotion in general, and shall here show what were the notions of the most refined heathens on this subject, as they are represented in Plato's dialogue upon prayer, entitled Alcibiades the Second, which doubtless gave occasion to Juvenal's tenth satire, and to the second satire of Persius; as the last of these authors has almost transcribed the preceding dialogue, entitled Alcibiades the First, in his fourth satire.

The speakers, in this dialogue upon prayer, are Socrates and Alcibiades; and the substance of it (when drawn together out of the intricacies and digressions) as follows

Socrates meeting his pupil Alcibiades, as he was going to his devotions, and observing his eyes to be fixed upon the earth with

part of this dialogue is very obscure: there | Being that his will may be done: which is is something in it that would make us think of the same force with that form which Socrates hinted at himself, when he spoke our Saviour used, when he prayed against of this divine teacher who was to come into the world, did not he own that he himself was in this respect as much at a loss, and in as great distress as the rest of mankind. Some learned men look upon this conclusion as a prediction of our Saviour, or at least that Socrates, like the high priest,* prophesied unknowingly, and pointed at that Divine Teacher who was to come into the world some ages after him. However that may be, we find that this great philo

the most painful and most ignominious of deaths, Nevertheless not my will, but thine be done.' This comprehensive petition is the most humble, as well as the most prudent, that can be offered up from the creature to his Creator, as it supposes the Supreme Being wills nothing but what is for our good, and that he knows better than ourselves what is so. L.

sopher saw by the light of reason, that it No. 208.] Monday, October 29, 1711.

was suitable to the goodness of the divine nature, to send a person into the world who should instruct mankind in the duties of religion, and, in particular, teach them how to pray.

-Veniunt spectentur ut ipsæ.

Ovid. Ars Am. Lib. 1. 99.

To be themselves a spectacle they come. I HAVE several letters of people of good Whoever reads this abstract of Plato's sense who lament the depravity or poverty discourse on prayer, will, I believe, na- of taste the town is fallen into with relation turally make this reflection, That the to plays and public spectacles. A lady in great founder of our religion, as well by particular observes, that there is such a his own example, as in the form of prayer levity in the minds of her own sex, that which he taught his disciples, did not only they seldom attend to any thing but imperkeep up to those rules which the light of tinences. It is indeed prodigious to observe nature had suggested to this great philoso- how little notice is taken of the most exaltpher, but instructed his disciples in the ed parts of the best tragedies in Shakswhole extent of this duty, as well as of all peare; nay, it is not only visible that senothers. He directed them to the proper suality has devoured all greatness of soul, object of adoration, and taught them, ac- but the under-passion (as I may so call it) cording to the third rule above-mentioned, of a noble spirit, Pity, seems to be a stranger to apply themselves to him in their closets, to the generality of an audience. The minds without show or ostentation, and to worship of men are indeed very differently disposed; him in spirit and in truth.' As the Lacede- and the reliefs from care and attention are monians in their form of prayer implored of one sort in a great spirit, and of another the gods in general to give them all good in an ordinary one. The man of a great things so long as they were virtuous, we heart, and a serious complexion, is more ask in particular that our offences may be pleased with instances of generosity and forgiven, as we forgive those of others." If pity, than the light and ludicrous spirit can we look into the second rule which Socrates possibly be with the highest strains of mirth has prescribed, namely, that we should and laughter. It is therefore a melancholy apply ourselves to the knowledge of such prospect when we see a numerous assemthings as are best for us, this too is explain-bly lost to all serious entertainments, and ed at large in the doctrines of the gospel, where we are taught in several instances to regard those things as curses, which appear as blessings in the eye of the world; and, on the contrary, to esteem those things as blessings, which to the generality of mankind appear as curses. Thus in the form which is prescribed to us, we only pray for that happiness which is our chief good, and the great end of our existence, when we petition the Supreme Being for the coming of his kingdom, being solicitous for no other temporal blessings but our daily sustenance. On the other side, we pray against nothing but sin, and against evil in general, leaving it with Omniscience to determine what is really such. If we look into the first of Socrates his rules of prayer, in which he recommends the above-mentioned form of the ancient poet, we find that form not only comprehended, but very much improved in the petition, wherein we pray to the Supreme

such incidents as should move one sort of concern, excite in them a quite contrary one. In the tragedy of Macbeth, the other night, when the lady who is conscious of the crime of murdering the king seems utterly astonished at the news, and makes an exclamation at it, instead of the indignation which is natural to the occasion, that expression is received with a loud laugh. They were as merry when a criminal was stabbed. It is certainly an occasion of rejoicing when the wicked are seized in their designs; but I think it is not such a triumph as is exerted by laughter.

You may generally observe, that the appetites are sooner moved than the passions. A sly expression which alludes to bawdry, puts a whole row into a pleasing smirk; when a good sentence that describes an inward sentiment of the soul, is received with the greatest coldness and indifference. A correspondent of mine, upon this subject, has divided the female part of the audience, and accounts for their prepossessions against

'October 20.

this reasonable delight in the following manner: The prude,' says he, as she acts 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I have been out of always in contradiction, so she is gravely town, so did not meet with your paper, sullen at a comedy, and extravagantly gay dated September the 28th, wherein you, to at a tragedy. The coquette is so much my heart's desire, expose that cursed vice taken up with throwing her eyes around of ensnaring poor young girls, and drawing the audience, and considering the effect of them from their friends. I assure you withthem, that she cannot be expected to ob- out flattery it has saved a 'prentice of mine serve the actors but as they are her rivals, from ruin; and in token of gratitude, as well and take off the observation of the men as for the benefit of my family, I have put from herself. Besides these species of wo- it in a frame and glass, and hung it behind men, there are the examples, or the first my counter. I shall take care to make my of the mode. These are to be supposed too young ones read it every morning, to fortify well acquainted with what the actor was them against such pernicious rascals. 1 going to say to be moved at it. After these know not whether what you writ was matone might mention a certain flippant set of ter of fact, or your own invention; but this females who are mimics, and are wonder-I will take my oath on, the first part is so fully diverted with the conduct of all the people around them, and are spectators only of the audience. But what is of all the most to be lamented, is the loss of a party whom it would be worth preserving in their right senses upon all occasions, and these are those whom we may indifferently call the 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Without raillery, I innocent, or the unaffected. You may some- desire you to insert this word for word in times see one of these sensibly touched with your next, as you value a lover's prayers. a well-wrought incident; but then she is You see it is a hue and cry after a stray immediately so impertinently observed by heart, (with the marks and blemishes unthe men, and frowned at by some insensible derwritten;) which, whoever shall bring to superior of her own sex, that she is asham-you, shall receive satisfaction. Let me beg ed, and loses the enjoyment of the most of you not to fail, as you remember the laudable concern, pity. Thus the whole passion you had for her to whom you lately audience is afraid of letting fall a tear, and ended a paper: shun as a weakness the best and worthiest part of our sense.

'SIR,-As you are one that doth not only pretend to reform, but affect it amongst people of any sense; makes me (who am one of the greatest of your admirers,) give you this trouble to desire you will settle the method of us females knowing when one another is in town: for they have now got a trick of never sending to their ac

exactly like what happened to my 'prentice, that had I read your paper then, 1 should have taken your method to have secured a villain. Go on and prosper. Your most obliged humble servant.'

'Noble, generous, great and good,
But never to be understood;
Fickle as the wind, still changing,
After every female ranging,
Panting, trembling, sighing, dying,
But addicted much to lying:
When the Syren songs repeats,
Equal measure still it beats;

Whoe'er shall wear it, it will smart her,
And whoe'er takes it, takes a tartar.'

quaintance when they first come; and if No. 209.] Tuesday, October 30, 1711.

Γυναικος ουδε χρημ' ανης ληίζεται
Εσθλής αμεινον, ουδε ριγιον κακης.—Simonides.
Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife;
A bad, the bitterest curse of human life.

T.

one does not visit them within the week which they stay at home, it is a mortal quarrel. Now, dear Mr. Spec, either command them to put it in the advertisement of your paper, which is generally read by our sex, or else order them to breathe their THERE are no authors I am more pleased saucy footmen (who are good for nothing with than those who show human nature in else,) by sending them to tell all their ac- a variety of views, and describe the several quaintance. If you think to print this, pray ages of the world in their different manners. put it into a better style as to the spelling A reader cannot be more rationally enterpart. The town is now filling every day, tained, than by comparing the virtues and and it cannot be deferred, because people vices of his own times with those which take advantage of one another by this prevailed in the times of his forefathers; means, and break off acquaintance, and and drawing a parallel in his mind between are rude. Therefore, pray put this in your his own private character and that of other paper as soon as you can possibly, to pre-persons, whether of his own age or of the vent any future miscarriages of this nature. I am, as I ever shall be, dear Spec, your

most obedient humble servant,

'MARY MEANWELL.'

'Pray settle what is to be a proper notification of a person's being in town, and how that differs according to people's quality.'

ages that went before him. The contemplation of mankind under these changeable colours is apt to shame us out of any particular vice, or animate us to any particular virtue; to make us pleased or displeased with ourselves in the most proper points, and to clear our minds of prejudice and prepossession, and rectify that narrowness

of temper which inclines us to think amiss of those who differ from us.

The souls of one kind of women were formed out of those ingredients which compose a swine. A woman of this make is a slut in her house and a glutton at her table. She is uncleanly in her person, a slattern in her dress, and her family is no better than a dung-hill.

'A second sort of female soul was formed

If we look into the manners of the most remote ages of the world, we discover human nature in her simplicity; and the more we come downward towards our own times, may observe her hiding herself in artifices and refinements, polished insensibly out of her original plainness, and at length en-out of the same materials that enter into tirely lost under form and ceremony, and (what we call) good-breeding. Read the accounts of men and women as they are given us by the most ancient writers, both sacred and profane, and you would think you were reading the history of another species.

Among the writers of antiquity there are none who instruct us more openly in the manners of their respective times in which they lived, than those who have employed themselves in satire, under what dress soever it may appear; as there are no other authors whose province it is to enter so directly into the ways of men, and set their miscarriages in so strong a light.

the composition of a fox. Such a one is what we call a notable discerning woman, who has an insight into every thing whether it be good or bad. In this species of females there are some virtuous and some

vicious.

'A third kind of women were made up of canine particles. These are what we commonly call scolds, who imitate the animals out of which they were taken, that are always busy and barking, that snarl at every one who comes in their way, and live in perpetual clamour.

The fourth kind of women were made out of the earth. These are your sluggards, who pass away their time in indolence and ignorance, hover over the fire a whole winter, and apply themselves with alacrity to no kind of business but eating.

The fifth species of females were made out of the sea. These are women of variable uneven tempers, sometimes all storm and tempest, sometimes all calm and sunshine. The stranger who sees one of these in her smiles and smoothness would cry her up for a miracle of good humour; but on a sudden her looks and words are changed; she is nothing but fury and outrage, noise and hurricane.

Simonides, a poet famous in his generation, is, I think, author of the oldest satire that is now extant; and, as some say, of the first that was ever written. This poet flourished about four hundred years after the siege of Troy; and shows, by his way of writing, the simplicity, or rather coarseness, of the age in which he lived. I have taken notice in my hundred and sixty-first speculation, that the rule of observing what the French call the Bienseance in an allusion, has been found out of later years; and that the ancients, provided there was a likeness in their similitudes, did not much trouble themselves about the decency of "The sixth species were made up of the the comparison. The satire or iambics of ingredients which compose an ass, or a Simonides, with which I shall entertain my beast of burden. These are naturally exreaders in the present paper, are a re-ceeding slothful, but upon the husband's markable instance of what I formerly advanced. The subject of this satire is woman. He describes the sex in their several characters, which he derives to them from a fanciful supposition raised upon the doctrine of pre-existence. He tells us that the gods formed the souls of women out of those seeds and principles which compose several kinds of animals and elements; and that their good or bad dispositions arise in them according as such and such seeds and principles predominate in their constitutions. I have translated the author very faithfully, and if not word for word, (which our language would not bear,) at least so as to comprehend every one of his sentiments, without adding any thing of my

own.

I have already apologised for this author's want of delicacy, and must further premise, that the following satire affects only some of the lower part of the sex, and not those who have been refined by a polite education, which was not so comnion in the age of this poet.

In the beginning God made the souls of womankind out of different materials, and in a separate state from their bodies.

exerting his authority, will live upon hard fare, and do every thing to please him. They are, however, far from being averse to venereal pleasure, and seldom refuse a male companion.

'The cat furnished materials for a seventh species of women, who are of a melancholy, froward, unamiable nature, and so repugnant to the offers of love, that they fly in the face of their husband when he approaches them with conjugal endearments. species of women are likewise subject to little thefts, cheats, and pilferings.

This

'The mare with a flowing mane, which was never broke to any servile toil and labour, composed an eighth species of women. These are they who have little regard for their husbands, who pass away their time in dressing, bathing, and perfuming; who throw their hair into the nicest curls, and trick it up with the fairest flowers and garlands. A woman of this species is a very pretty thing for a stranger to look upon, but very detrimental to the owner, unless it be a king or a prince who takes a fancy to such a toy.

The ninth species of females were taken