Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Milton, as I have observed in a former pa-
per, had an eye to several of these forego-
ing instances in that beautiful description,
wherein he represents the archangel and
the evil spirit as addressing themselves for
the combat, but parted by the balance
which appeared in the heavens, and weigh-
ed the consequences of such a battle.

Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray,
Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign:
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd,
The pendulous round earth, with balanc'd air,
In counterpoise, now ponders all events,
Battles and realms; in these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight,
The latter quick upflew and kick'd the beam;
Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend:
"Satan. I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine,
Neither our own, but giv'n. What folly then
To boast what arms can do, since thine no more

Than heav'n permits; nor mine, though doubled now
To trample thee as mire! For proof look up,
And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, [weak,
Where thou art weigh'd and shown how light, how
If thou resist." The fiend look'd up, and knew
His mounted scale aloft; nor more but fled
Murm'ring, and with him fled the shades of night.'
These several amusing thoughts having
taken possession of my mind some time be-
fore I went to sleep, and mingling them-
selves with my ordinary ideas, raised in
my imagination a very odd kind of vision.
I was, methought, replaced in my study,
and seated in my elbow-chair, where I had
indulged the foregoing speculations with
my lamp burning by me as usual. Whilst
I was here meditating on several subjects of
morality, and considering the nature of
many virtues and vices, as materials for
those discourses with which I daily enter-
tain the public, I saw, methought a pair of
golden scales hanging by a chain of the
same metal, over the table that stood be-
fore me; when, on a sudden, there were
great heaps of weights thrown down on
each side of them. I found, upon examin-
ing these weights, they showed the value
of every thing that is in esteem among men.
I made an essay of them, by putting the
weight of wisdom in one scale, and that of
riches in another; upon which the latter, to
show its comparative lightness, immediate-
ly flew up and kicked the beam.

and many weights of the like nature, in one of them; and seeing a little glittering weight lie by me, I threw it accidentally into the other scale, when, to my great surprise, it proved so exact a counterpoise, that it kept the balance in an equilibrium. This little glittering weight was inscribed upon the edges of it with the word 'Vanity.' I found there were several other weights which were equally heavy, and exact counterpoises to one another; a few of them I tried, as Avarice and Poverty, Riches and Content, with some others.

There were likewise several weights that were of the same figure, and seemed to correspond with each other, but were entirely different when thrown into the scales; as Religion and Hypocrisy, Pedantry and Learning, Wit and Vivacity, Superstition and Devotion, Gravity and Wisdom, with many others.

I observed one particular weight lettered on both sides; and upon applying myself to the reading of it, I found on one side written, In the dialect of men,' and underneath it, Calamities:' on the other side was written, In the language of the gods,' and underneath Blessings.' I found the intrinsic value of this weight to be much greater than I imagined, for it overpowered Health, Wealth, Good-fortune, and many other weights, which were much more ponderous in my hand than the other.

There is a saying among the Scotch, that an ounce of mother-wit is worth a pound of clergy: I was sensible of the truth of this saying, when I saw the difference between the weight of Natural Parts and that of Learning. The observations which Į made upon these two weights opened to me a new field of discoveries; for notwithstanding the weight of Natural Parts was much heavier than that of Learning, I observed that it weighed a hundred times heavier than it did before, when I put Learning into the same scale with it. I made the same observation upon Faith and Morality; for, notwithstanding the latter outweighed the former separately, it received a thousand times more additional weight from its conjunction with the former, than what it had by itself. This odd phenomenon showed itself in other particulars, as in Wit and Judgment, Philosophy and Religion, Justice and Humanity, Zeal and Charity, depth of Sense and perspicuity of Style, with innumerable other particulars too long to be mentioned in this paper.

But, before I proceed, I must inform my reader, that these weights did not exert their natural gravity till they were laid in the golden balance, insomuch that I could not guess which was light or heavy whilst I held them in my hand. This I found by several instances; for upon my laying a weight in one of the scales, which was inscribed by the word 'Eternity,' though I As a dream seldom fails of dashing serithrew in that of Time, Prosperity, Afflic-ousness with impertinence, mirth with tion, Wealth, Poverty, Interest, Success, with many other weights, which in my hand seemed very ponderous, they were not able to stir the opposite balance; nor could they have prevailed, though assisted with the weight of the Sun, the Stars, and the Earth.

[blocks in formation]

gravity, methought I made several other experiments of a more ludicrous nature, by one of which I found that an English octavo was very often heavier than a French folio; and, by another, that an old Greek or Latin author weighed down a whole library of moderns. Seeing one of my Spectators lying by me, I laid it into one of the scales, and flung a two-penny piece into

the other. The reader will not inquire into the event, if he remembers the first trial which I have recorded in this paper. I afterwards threw both the sexes into the balance; but as it is not for my interest to disoblige either of them, I shall desire to be excused from telling the result of this experiment. Having an opportunity of this nature in my hands, I could not forbear throwing into one scale the principles of a Tory, and into the other those of a Whig; but, as I have all along declared this to be a neutral paper, I shall likewise desire to be silent under this head also, though upon examining one of the weights, I saw the word 'TEKEL' engraven on it in capital

letters.

ing of wisdom. Poverty turns our thoughts
too much upon the supplying of our wants,
and riches, upon enjoying our superfluities;
and, as Cowley has said in another case,
"It is hard for a man to keep a steady eye
upon truth, who is always in a battle or a
triumph.'

If we regard poverty and wealth, as they are apt to produce virtues or vices in the mind of man, one may observe that there is a set of each of these growing out of poverty, quite different from that which rises out of wealth. Humility and patience, industry and temperance, are very often the good qualities of a poor man. Humanity, and good-nature, magnanimity and a sense of honour, are as often the qualifiI made many other experiments; and cations of the rich. On the contrary, pothough I have not room for them all in this verty is apt to betray a man into envy, day's speculation, I may perhaps reserve riches into arrogance; poverty is too often them for another. I shall only add, that upon attended with fraud, vicious compliance, my awaking, I was sorry to find my golden repining, murmur and discontent. Riches scales vanished; but resolved for the future expose a man to pride and luxury, a foolto learn this lesson from them, not to de-ish elation of heart, and too great a fondIspise or value any thing for their appear-ness for the present world. In short, the ances, but to regulate my esteem and passions towards them according to their real and intrinsic value.

No. 464.] Friday, August 22, 1712.

Auream quisquis mediocritatem
Diligit, tutus caret obsoleti
Sordibus tecti, caret invidenda

Sobrius aula.

C.

Hor. Od. x. Lib. 2. 5.

The golden mean, as she's too nice to dwell
Among the ruins of a filthy cell,

So is her modesty withal as great,

To balk the envy of a princely seat.-Norris. I AM wonderfully pleased when I meet with any passage in an old Greek or Latin author that is not blown upon, and which I have never met with in a quotation. Of this kind is a beautiful saying in Theognis: 'Vice is covered by wealth, and virtue by poverty; or to give it in the verbal translation, Among men there are some who have their vices concealed by wealth, and others who have their virtues concealed by poverty.' Every man's observation will supply him with instances of rich men, who have several faults and defects that are overlooked, if not entirely hidden, by means of their riches; and I think, we cannot find a more natural description of a poor man, whose merits are lost in his poverty, than that in the words of the wise man: 'There was a little city, and few men within it; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it. Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he, by his wisdom, delivered the city; yet no man remembered that same poor man. Then, said I, wisdom is better than strength; nevertheless, the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.'

The middle condition seems to be the most advantageously situated for the gain

middle condition is most eligible to the man who would improve himself in virtue; as I have before shown it is the most advantageous for the gaining of knowledge. It was upon this consideration that Agur founded his prayer, which, for the wisdom of it, is recorded in holy writ. Two things have I required of thee; deny me them not before I die. Remove far from me vanity and lies, give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.'

I shall fill the remaining part of my paper with a very pretty allegory, which is wrought into a play by Aristophanes the Greek comedian. It seems originally designed as a satire upon the rich, though, in some parts of it, it is like the foregoing discourse, a kind of comparison between wealth and poverty.

Chremylus, who was an old and a good man, and withal exceeding poor, being desirous to leave some riches to his son, consults the oracle of Apollo upon the subject. The oracle bids him follow the first man he should see upon his going out of the temple. The person he chanced to see was to appearance an old sordid blind man, but, upon his following him from place to place, he at last found, by his own confession, that he was Plutus the god of riches, and that he was just come out of the house of a miser: Plutus farther told him, that when he was a boy, he used to declare, that as soon as he came to age he would distribute wealth to none but virtuous and just men; upon which Jupiter considering the pernicious consequences of such a resolution, took his sight away from him, and left him to stroll about the world in the blind condition wherein Chremylus beheld him. With much ado Chremylus prevailed upon him to go to his

house, where he met an old woman in a HAVING endeavoured in my last Saturtattered raiment, who had been his guest day's paper to show the great excellency for many years, and whose name was Po- of faith, I shall here consider what are the verty. The old woman refusing to turn out proper means of strengthening and confirmso easily as he would have her, he threat-ing it in the mind of man. Those who deened to banish her, not only from his own light in reading books of controversy which house, but out of all Greece, if she made are written on both sides of the question on any more words upon the matter. Poverty points of faith, do very seldom arrive at a on this occasion pleads her cause very fixed and settled habit of it. They are one notably, and represents to her old landlord, day entirely convinced of its important that should she be driven out of the coun- truths, and the next meet with sometry, all their trades, arts, and sciences, thing that shakes and disturbs them. The would be driven out with her; and that, if doubt which was laid revives again, and every one was rich, they would never be shows itself in new difficulties, and that supplied with those pomps, ornaments, and generally for this reason, because the mind, conveniences of life which made riches de- which is perpetually tost in controversies sirable. She likewise represented to him and disputes, is apt to forget the reasons the several advantages which she bestowed which had once set it at rest, and to be upon her votaries in regard to their shape, disquieted with any former perplexity, their health, and their activity, by pre- when it appears in a new shape, or is startserving them from gouts, dropsies, un-ed by a different hand. As nothing is more wieldiness, and intemperance. But what- laudable than an inquiry after truth, so noever she had to say for herself, she was at thing is more irrational than to pass away last forced to troop off. Chremylus imme- our whole lives, without determining ourdiately considered how he might restore selves, one way or other, in those points Plutus to his sight; and, in order to it, con- which are of the last importance to us. veyed him to the temple of Esculapius, There are indeed many things from which who was famous for cures and miracles of we may withhold our assent; but in cases this nature. By this means the deity re- by which we are to regulate our lives, it is covered his eyes, and began to make a the greatest absurdity to be wavering and right use of them, by enriching every one unsettled, without closing with that side that was distinguished by piety towards the which appears the most safe and the most gods and justice towards men: and at the probable. The first rule, therefore, which same time by taking away his gifts from I shall lay down is this; that when by readthe impious and undeserving. This pro- ing or discourse we find ourselves thoduces several merry incidents, till in the roughly convinced of the truth of any artilast act Mercury descends with great com-cle, and of the reasonableness of our belief plaints from the gods, that since the good in it, we should never after suffer ourselves men were grown rich, they had received to call it in question. We may perhaps forno sacrifices; which is confirmed by a priest get the arguments which occasioned our of Jupiter, who enters with a remonstrance, conviction, but we ought to remember the that since the late innovation he was re-strength they had with us, and therefore duced to a starving condition, and could not still to retain the conviction which they live upon his office. Chremylus, who in once produced. This is no more than what the beginning of the play was religious in we do in every common art or science; nor his poverty, concludes it with a proposal, is it possible to act otherwise, considering which was relished by all the good men the weakness and limitation of our intellecwho had now grown rich as well as himself, tual faculties. It was thus that Latimer, that they should carry Plutus in a solemn one of the glorious army of martyrs, who procession to the temple, and install him in introduced the reformation in England, bethe place of Jupiter. This allegory in-haved himself in that great conference structed the Athenians in two points: first as it vindicted the conduct of Providence in its ordinary distributions of wealth; and, in the next place, as it showed the great tendency of riches to corrupt the morals of those who possessed them.

C.

No. 465.] Saturday, August 23, 1712.

Qua ratione queas traducere leniter ævum;
Ne te semper inops agitet vexetque cupido;
Ne pavor et rerum mediocriter utilium spes.
Hor. Ep. xviii. Lib. 1. 97.

How you may glide with gentle ease
Adown the current of your days;
Nor vex'd by mean and low desires,
Nor warm'd by wild ambitious fires;

By hope alarm'd, depress'd by fear,

For things but little worth your care.—Francis.

which was managed between the most learned among the protestants and papists in the reign of Queen Mary. This venerable old man, knowing his abilities were impaired by age, and that it was impossible for him to recollect all those reasons which had directed him in the choice of his religion, left his companions, who were in the full possession of their parts and learning, to baffle and confound their antagonists by the force of reason. As for himself, he only repeated to his adversaries the articles in which he firmly believed, and in the profession of which he was determined to die. It is in this manner that the mathematician proceeds upon propositions which he has once demonstrated: and though the demonstration may have slipped out of his me

mory, he builds upon the truth, because rally grow in the mind of every reasonable he knows it was demonstrated. This rule man, who sees the impressions of divine is absolutely necessary for weaker minds, power and wisdom in every object on which and in some measure for men of the great-he casts his eye. The Supreme Being has est abilities; but to these last I would pro- made the best arguments for his own expose, in the second place, that they should istence, in the formation of the heavens lay up in their memories, and always keep and the earth; and these are arguments by them in readiness, those arguments which a man of sense cannot forbear atwhich appear to them of the greatest tending to, who is out of the noise and hurry strength, and which cannot be got over by of human affairs. Aristotle says, that all the doubts and cavils of infidelity. should a man live under ground, and there converse with the works of art and mechanism, and should afterward be brought up into the open day, and see the several glories of the heaven and earth, he would immediately pronounce them the works of such a being as we define God to be. The psalmist has very beautiful strokes of poetry to this purpose, in that exalted strain: "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handy work. One day telleth another; and one night certifieth another. There is neither speech nor language; but their voices are heard among them. Their sound is gone out into all lands; and their words into the ends of the world.' As such a bold and sublime manner of thinking furnishes very noble matter for an ode, the reader may see it wrought into the following one.

But, in the third place, there is nothing which strengthens faith more than morality. Faith and morality naturally produce each other. A man is quickly convinced of the truth of religion, who finds it is not against his interest that it should be true. The pleasure he receives at present, and the happiness which he promises himself from it hereafter, will both dispose him very powerfully to give credit to it, according to the ordinary observation, that we are easy to believe what we wish.' It is very certain, that a man of sound reason cannot forbear closing with religion upon an impartial examination of it; but at the same time it is certain, that faith is kept alive in us, and gathers strength from practice more than from speculation.

There is still another method, which is more persuasive than any of the former; and that is an habitual adoration of the Supreme Being, as well in constant acts of mental worship, as in outward forms. The devout man does not only believe, but feels there is a deity. He has actual sensations of him; his experience concurs with his reason; he sees him more and more in all his intercourses with him, and even in this life almost loses his faith in conviction.

The last method which I shall mention for the giving life to a man's faith, is frequent retirement from the world, accompanied with religious meditation. When a man thinks of any thing in the darkness of the night, whatever deep impressions it may make in his mind, they are apt to vanish as soon as the day breaks upon him. The light and noise of the day, which are perpetually soliciting his senses, and calling off his attention, wear out of his mind the thoughts that imprinted themselves in it, with so much strength, during the silence and darkness of the night. A man

I.

"The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim:

Th' unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty hand.

II.

"Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the list'ning earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

III.

"What though, in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine."

finds the same difference as to himself in a No. 466.] Monday, August 25, 1712.

-Vera incessu patuit dea.-Virg. Æn. i. 409. And by her graceful walk the queen of love is known Dryden.

crowd and in a solitude: the mind is stunned and dazzled amidst that variety of objects which press upon her in a great city. She cannot apply herself to the consideration of those things which are of the utmost WHEN Æneas, the hero of Virgil, is lost concern to her. The cares or pleasures of in the wood, and a perfect stranger in the the world strike in with every thought, and place on which he is landed, he is accosted a multitude of vicious examples give a kind by a lady in a habit for the chase. She inof justification to our folly. In our retire-quires of him, whether he has seen pass by ments, every thing disposes us to be serious. In courts and cities we are entertained with the works of men; in the country with those of God. One is the province of art, the other of nature. Faith and devotion natu

that way any young woman dressed as she was? whether she were following the sport in the wood, or any other way employed, according to the custom of huntresses? The hero answers with the respect due to the

beautiful appearance she made; tells her, woman, whom I entertained to take care he saw no such person as she inquired for; of her, to be very watchful in her care and but intimates that he knows her to be one attendance about her. I am a man of busiof the deities, and desires she would con- ness, and obliged to be much abroad. The duct a stranger. Her form, from her first neighbours have told me, that in my abappearance, manifested she was more than sence our maid has let in the spruce sermortal; but, though she was certainly a vants in the neighbourhood to junketings, goddess, the poet does not make her known while my girl played and romped even in to be the goddess of beauty till she moved. the street. To tell you the plain truth, I All the charms of an agreeable person are catched her once, at eleven years old, at then in their highest exertion, every limb chuck-farthing among the boys. This put and feature appears with its respective me upon new thoughts about my child, and grace. It is from this observation that II determined to place her at a boardingcannot help being so passionate an admirer school; and at the same time gave a very as I am of good dancing. As all art is an discreet young gentlewoman her mainteimitation of nature, this is an imitation of nance at the same place and rate, to be her nature in its highest excellence, and at a companion. I took little notice of my girl time when she is most agreeable. The from time to time, but saw her now and business of dancing is to display beauty; and then in good health, out of harm's way, and for that reason all distortions and mimick- was satisfied. But, by much importunity, I ries, as such, are what raise aversion in- was lately prevailed with to go to one of stead of pleasure; but things that are in their balls. I cannot express to you the themselves excellent, are ever attended anxiety my silly heart was in, when I saw with imposture and false imitation. Thus, my romp, now fifteen, taken out: I never as in poetry there are labouring fools who felt the pangs of a father upon me so write anagrams and acrosticks, there are strongly in my whole life before; and I pretenders in dancing, who think merely could not have suffered more had my whole to do what others cannot, is to excel. Such fortune been at stake. My girl came on creatures should be rewarded like him who with the most becoming modesty I had ever has acquired a knack of throwing a grain seen, and casting a respectful eye, as if she of corn through the eye of a needle, with a feared me more than all the audience, I bushel to keep his hand in use. The gave a nod, which I think gave her all the dancers on our stage are very faulty in this spirit she assumed upon it: but she rose kind; and what they mean by writhing properly to that dignity of aspect. My themselves into such postures, as it would romp, now the most graceful person of her be a pain for any of the spectators to stand sex, assumed a majesty which commanded in, and yet hope to please those spectators, the highest respect; and when she turned is unintelligible. Mr. Prince has a genius, to me, and saw my face in rapture, she fell if he were encouraged, would prompt him into the prettiest smile, and I saw in all her to better things. In all the dances he in-motions that she exulted in her father's vents, you see he keeps close to the cha- satisfaction. You, Mr. Spectator, will, betracters he represents. He does not hope to ter than I can tell you, imagine to yourself please by making his performers move in all the different beauties and changes of à manner in which no one else ever did but aspect in an accomplished young woman by motions proper to the characters he re-setting forth all her beauties with a design presents. He gives to clowns and lubbards clumsy graces: that is, he makes them practise what they would think graces; and I have seen dances of his, which might give hints that would be useful to a comic writer. These performances have pleased the taste of such as have not reflection enough to know their excellence, because they are in nature; and the distorted motions of others have offended those who could not form reasons to themselves for their displeasure, from their being a contradiction to nature.

to please no one so much as her father. My girl's lover can never know half the satisfaction that I did in her that day. I could not possibly have imagined that so great improvement could have been wrought by an art that I always held in itself ridiculous and contemptible. There is, I am convinced, no method like this, to give young women a sense of their own value and dignity: and I am sure there can be none so expeditious to communicate that value to others. As for the flippant insipidly gay, and wantonly forward, whom you behold among dancers, that carriage is more to be attributed to the perverse genius of the performers, than imputed to the art itself. For my part, my child has danced herself into my esteem; and I have as great an honour for her as ever I had for her mother, from whom she derived those latent good quali'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a widower with ties which appeared in her countenance but one daughter: she was by nature much when she was dancing; for my girl, though inclined to be a romp; and I had no way ofI say it myself, showed in one quarter of an educating her, but commanding a young | hour the innate principles of a modest vir

When one considers the inexpressible advantage there is in arriving at some excellence in this art, it is monstrous to behold it so much neglected. The following letter has in it something very natural on this subject.

« AnteriorContinuar »