Chapter CVII: Act V: Scene I (1)

_CATO_ alone, &c.

'It must be so--_Plato_, thou reason'st well--
Else whence this pleasing Hope, this fond Desire,
This Longing after Immortality?
Or whence this secret Dread, and inward Horror,
Of falling into Nought? Why shrinks the Soul
Back on her self, and startles at Destruction?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis Heaven it self, that points out an Hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to Man.
Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful, Thought!

Through what Variety of untry'd Being,
Through what new Scenes and Changes must we pass!

The wide, th' unbounded Prospect, lyes before me;
But Shadows, Clouds, and Darkness rest upon it.
Here will I hold. If there's a Pow'r above us,
(And that there is all Nature cries aloud
Through all her Works) He must delight in Virtue;
And that which he delights in, must be happy.
But when! or where!--This World was made for _Cæsar._
I'm weary of Conjectures--This must end 'em.

Laying his Hand on his Sword._

Thus am I doubly arm'd: my Death and Life,
My Bane and Antidote are both before me.
This in a Moment brings me to an End;
But This informs me I shall never die.
The Soul, secur'd in her Existence, smiles
At the drawn Dagger, and defies its Point.
The Stars shall fade away, the Sun himself
Grow dim with Age, and Nature sink in Years;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal Youth,
Unhurt amidst the War of Elements,
The Wrecks of Matter and the Crush of Worlds.'

[Footnote 1: Nos. 565, 571, 580, and 590.]

[Footnote 2: By Mr., afterwards Dr., Bland, who became Provost of Eton and Dean of Durham.]

* * * * *

No. 629. Monday, December 6, 1714.

'Experiar quid concedatur in illos,
Quorum Flaminia tegitur cinis atque Latinâ.'

Juv.

Next to the People who want a Place, there are none to be pitied more than those who are solicited for one. A plain Answer, with a Denial in it, is looked upon as Pride, and a civil Answer as a Promise.

Nothing is more ridiculous than the Pretensions of People upon these Occasions. Every thing a Man hath suffered, whilst his Enemies were in play, was certainly brought about by the Malice of the opposite Party. A bad Cause would not have been lost, if such an one had not been upon the Bench; nor a profligate Youth disinherited, if he had not got drunk every Night by toasting an outed Ministry. I remember a Tory, who having been fined in a Court of Justice for a Prank that deserved the Pillory, desir'd upon the Merit of it to be made a Justice of Peace when his Friends came into Power; and shall never forget a Whig Criminal, who, upon being indicted for a Rape, told his Friends, _You see what a Man suffers for sticking to his Principles_.

The Truth of it is, the Sufferings of a Man in a Party are of a very doubtful Nature. When they are such as have promoted a good Cause, and fallen upon a Man undeservedly, they have a Right to be heard and recompensed beyond any other Pretensions. But when they rise out of Rashness or Indiscretion, and the Pursuit of such Measures as have rather ruined, than promoted the Interest they aim at, (which hath always been the Case of many great Sufferers) they only serve to recommend them to the Children of Violence or Folly.

I have by me a Bundle of Memorials presented by several Cavaliers upon the Restauration of K. _Charles_ II. which may serve as so many Instances, to our present Purpose.

Among several Persons and Pretensions recorded by my Author, he mentions one of a very great Estate, who, for having roasted an Ox whole, and distributed a Hogshead upon K. _Charles's_ Birth-day, desired to be provided for, as his Majesty in his great Wisdom shall think fit.

Another put in to be Prince _Henry's_, Governor, for having dared to drink his Health in the worst of Times.

A Third petitioned for a Colonel's Commission, for having Cursed _Oliver Cromwell_, the Day before his Death, on a publick Bowling-Green.

But the most whimsical Petition I have met with is that of _B. B._ Esq., who desir'd the Honour of Knighthood, for having Cuckolded Sir _T. W._ a notorious _Roundhead_.

There is likewise the Petition of one, who having let his Beard grow from the Martyrdom of K. _Charles_ the First, till the Restauration of K. _Charles_ the Second, desired, in Consideration thereof, to be made a Privy-Counsellor.

I must not omit a Memorial setting forth, that the Memorialist had, with great dispatch, carried a Letter from a certain Lord to a certain Lord, wherein, as it afterwards appeared, Measures were concerted for the Restauration, and without which he verily believes that happy Revolution had never been effected; who thereupon humbly prays to be made Post-Master-General.

A certain Gentleman, who seems to write with a great deal of Spirit, and uses the Words _Gallantry_ and _Gentleman-like_ very often in his Petition, begs that (in Consideration of his having worn his Hat for ten Years past in the Loyal Cavalier-Cock, to his great Danger and Detriment) he may be made a Captain of the Guards.

I shall close my Account of this Collection of Memorials, with the Copy of one Petition at length, which I recommend to my Reader as a very valuable Piece.

_The Petition of E. H. Esq., humbly Sheweth,_

'That your Petitioner's Father's Brother's Uncle, Colonel _W. H._ lost
the Third Finger of his Left Hand at _Edge-hill_ Fight.

'That your Petitioner, notwithstanding the Smallness of his Fortune,
(he being a younger Brother) always kept Hospitality, and drank
Confusion to the Roundheads in half a Score Bumpers every _Sunday_ in
the Year, as several honest Gentlemen (whose Names are underwritten)
are ready to testifie.

'That your Petitioner is remarkable in his Country for having dared to
treat Sir _P. P._ a cursed Sequestrator, and three Members of the
Assembly of Divines, with Brawn and Minced Pies upon _New Year's_ Day.

'That your said humble Petitioner hath been five times imprisoned in
five several County-Goals, for having been a Ring-leader in five
different Riots; into which his Zeal for the Royal Cause hurried him,
when men of greater Estates had not the Courage to rise.

'That he, the said _E. H._ hath had six Duels and four and twenty
Boxing-Matches in Defence of his Majesty's Title; and that he received
such a Blow upon the Head at a Bonfire in _Stratford_ upon _Avon_, as
he hath been never the better for from that Day to this.

'That your Petitioner hath been so far from improving his Fortune, in
the late damnable Times, that he verily believes, and hath good Reason
to imagine, that if he had been Master of an Estate, he had infallibly
been plundered and sequestred.

'Your Petitioner, in Consideration of his said Merits and Sufferings,
humbly requests that he may have the Place of Receiver of the Taxes,
Collector of the Customs, Clerk of the Peace, Deputy Lieutenant, or
whatsoever else he shall be thought qualified for.

_And your Petitioner shall ever Pray, &c._

* * * * *

No. 630. Wednesday, December 8, 1714.

'--Favete linguis--'

Hor.

Having no spare Time to write any thing of my own, or to correct what is sent me by others, I have thought fit to publish the following Letters.

_Oxford, November 22._

_SIR,_

'If you would be so kind to me, as to suspend that Satisfaction, which
the Learned World must receive in reading one of your Speculations, by
publishing this Endeavour, you will very much oblige and improve one,
who has the Boldness to hope, that he may be admitted into the number
of your Correspondents.

'I have often wondered to hear Men of good Sense and good Nature
profess a Dislike to Musick, when, at the same time, they do not
scruple to own, that it has the most agreeable and improving
Influences over their Minds: It seems to me an unhappy Contradiction,
that those Persons should have an Indifference for an Art, which
raises in them such a Variety of sublime Pleasures.

'However, though some few, by their own or the unreasonable Prejudices
of others, may be led into a Distaste for those Musical Societies
which are erected merely for Entertainment, yet sure I may venture to
say, that no one can have the least Reason for Disaffection to that
solemn kind of Melody which consists of the Praises of our Creator.

'You have, I presume, already prevented me in an Argument upon this
Occasion (which some Divines have successfully advanced upon a much
greater) that Musical Sacrifice and Adoration has claimed a Place in
the Laws and Customs of the most different Nations; As the _Grecians_
and _Romans_ of the Prophane, the _Jews_ and _Christians_ of the
Sacred World did as unanimously agree in this, as they disagreed in
all other Parts of their OEconomy.

'I know there are not wanting some who are of Opinion that the pompous
kind of Musick which is in Use in foreign Churches is the most
excellent, as it most affects our Senses. But I am swayed by my
Judgment to the Modesty which is observed in the musical Part of our
Devotions. Methinks there is something very laudable in the Custom of
a _Voluntary_ before the first Lesson; by this we are supposed to be
prepared for the Admission of those Divine Truths, which we are
shortly to receive. We are then to cast all worldly Regards from off
our Hearts, all Tumults within are then becalmed, and there should be
nothing near the Soul but Peace and Tranquility. So that in this short
Office of Praise, the Man is raised above himself, and is almost lost
already amidst the Joys of Futurity.

'I have heard some nice Observers frequently commend the Policy of our
Church in this Particular, that it leads us on by such easie and
regular Methods, that we are perfectly deceived into Piety. When the
Spirits begin to languish (as they too often do) with a constant
Series of Petitions, she takes care to allow them a pious Respite, and
relieves them with the Raptures of an Anthem. Nor can we doubt that
the sublimest Poetry, softened in the most moving Strains of Musick,
can ever fail of humbling or exalting the Soul to any Pitch of
Devotion. Who can hear the Terrors of the Lord of Hosts described in
the most expressive Melody, without being awed into a Veneration? or
who can hear the kind and endearing Attributes of a merciful Father,
and not be softened into Love towards him!

'As the rising and sinking of the Passions, the casting soft or noble
Hints into the Soul, is the natural Privilege of Musick in general, so
more particularly of that kind which is employed at the Altar. Those
Impressions which it leaves upon the Spirits are more deep and
lasting, as the Grounds from which it receives its Authority are
founded more upon Reason. It diffuses a Calmness all around us, it
makes us drop all those vain or immodest Thoughts which would be an
hindrance to us in the Performance of that great Duty of Thanksgiving,
[1] which, as we are informed by our Almighty Benefactor, is the most
acceptable Return which can be made for those infinite Stores of
Blessings which he daily condescends to pour down upon his Creatures.
When we make Use of this pathetical Method of addressing our selves to
him, we can scarce contain from Raptures! The Heart is warmed with a
Sublimity of Goodness. We are all Piety and all Love!

'How do the Blessed Spirits rejoice and wonder to behold unthinking
Man prostrating his Soul to his dread Sovereign in such a Warmth of
Piety as they themselves might not be ashamed of!

'I shall close these Reflections with a Passage taken out of the Third
Book of _Milton's Paradise Lost_, where those harmonious Beings are
thus nobly described.

'Then Crown'd again, their Gold'n Harps they took,
Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by their side
Like Quivers hung, and with Preamble sweet
Of Charming Symphony they introduce
The Sacred Song, and waken Raptures high;
No one exempt, no Voice but well could join
Melodious part, such Concord is in Heav'n'

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'The Town cannot be unacquainted, that in divers Parts of it there are
vociferous Setts of Men who are called _Rattling Clubs_; but what
shocks me most is, they have now the Front to invade the Church and
institute these Societies there, as a Clan of them have in late times
done, to such a degree of Insolence, as has given the Partition where
they reside in a Church near one of the City Gates, the Denomination
of the _Rattling Pew_. These gay Fellows, from humble Lay Professions,
set up for Criticks without any Tincture of Letters or Reading, and
have the Vanity to think they can lay hold of something from the
Parson, which may be formed into Ridicule.

'It is needless to observe, that the Gentlemen who every _Sunday_ have
the hard Province of Instructing these Wretches in a way they are in
no present Disposition to take, have a fixt Character for Learning and
Eloquence, not to be tainted by the weak Efforts of this Contemptible
Part of their Audiences. Whether the Pulpit is taken by these
Gentlemen, or any Strangers their Friends, the way of the Club is
this: If any Sentiments are delivered too Sublime for their
Conception; if any uncommon Topick is entered on, or one in use new
modified with the finest Judgment and Dexterity; or any controverted
Point be never so elegantly handled; In short whatever surpasses the
narrow Limits of their Theology, or is not suited to their Taste, they
are all immediately upon their Watch, fixing their Eyes upon each
other, with as much Warmth as our Gladiators of _Hockley in the Hole_,
and waiting like them for a Hit; if one touches, all take Fire, and
their Noddles instantly meet in the Centre of the Pew; then, as by
beat of Drum, with exact Discipline, they rear up into a full length
of Stature, and with odd Looks and Gesticulations confer together in
so loud and clamorous a manner, continued to the close of the
Discourse, and during the After-Psalm, as is not to be silenced but by
the Bells. Nor does this suffice them, without aiming to propagate
their Noise through all the Church, by Signals given to the adjoyning
Seats, where others designed for this Fraternity are sometimes placed
upon Tryal to receive them.

'The Folly as well as Rudeness of this Practice is in nothing more
conspicuous than this, that all that follows in the Sermon is lost;
for whenever our Sparks take alarm, they blaze out and grow so
Tumultuous that no After-Explanation can avail, it being impossible
for themselves or any near them to give an Account thereof. If any
thing really Novel is advanced, how averse soever it may be to their
way of thinking, to say nothing of Duty, Men of less Levity than these
would be led by a natural Curiosity to hear the whole.

'Laughter, where things Sacred are transacted, is far less pardonable
than Whining at a Conventicle; the last has at least a Semblance of
Grace, and where the Affectation is unseen may possibly imprint
wholesome Lessons on the Sincere; but the first has no Excuse,
breaking through all the Rules of Order and Decency, and manifesting a
Remissness of Mind in those important Matters, which require the
strictest Composure and Steadiness of Thought; A Proof of the greatest
Folly in the World.

'I shall not here enter upon the Veneration due to the Sanctity of the
Place, the Reverence owing to the Minister, or the Respect that so
great an Assembly as a whole Parish may justly claim. I shall only
tell them, that as the _Spanish_ Cobler, to reclaim a profligate Son,
bid him _have some regard to the Dignity of his Family_, so they as
Gentlemen (for we Citizens assume to be such one Day in a Week) are
bound for the future to Repent of, and Abstain from, the gross Abuses
here mentioned, whereof they have been Guilty in Contempt of Heaven
and Earth, and contrary to the Laws in this Case made and provided.

_I am, SIR,
Your very humble Servant_,
R. M.

[Footnote 1: A Proclamation appeared the day before this Paper, ordaining a Thanksgiving for King George's Accession to be observed on the 20th of January.]

* * * * *

No. 631. Friday, December 10, 1714.

'--Simplex Munditiis--'

Hor.

I had occasion to go a few Miles out of Town, some Days since, in a Stage-Coach, where I had for my Fellow-Tavellers a dirty Beau, and a pretty young Quaker-Woman. Having no Inclination to Talk much at that time, I placed my self backward, with a design to survey them, and pick a Speculation out of my two Companions. Their different Figures were sufficient of themselves to draw my Attention. The Gentleman was dressed in a Suit, the Ground whereof had been Black, as I perceived from some few Spaces, that had escaped the Powder, which was Incorporated with the greatest part of his Coat: His Perriwig, which cost no small Sum, [1] was after so slovenly a manner cast over his Shoulders, that it seemed not to have been combed since the Year 1712; his Linnen, which was not much concealed, was daubed with plain _Spanish_ from the Chin to the lowest Button, and the Diamond upon his Finger (which naturally dreaded the Water) put me in Mind how it sparkled amidst the Rubbish of the Mine, where it was first discovered. On the other hand, the pretty Quaker appeared in all the Elegance of Cleanliness. Not a Speck was to be found on her. A clear, clean oval Face, just edged about with little thin Plaits of the purest Cambrick, received great Advantages from the Shade of her black Hood; as did the Whiteness of her Arms from that sober-coloured Stuff, in which she had Cloathed her self. The Plainness of her Dress was very well suited to the Simplicity of her Phrases; all which put together, though they could not give me a great Opinion of her Religion, they did of her Innocence.

This Adventure occasioned my throwing together a few hints upon _Cleanliness_, which I shall consider as one of the _Half-Virtues_, as _Aristotle_ calls them, and shall recommend it under the three following Heads, As it is a Mark of Politeness; As it produces Love; and As it bears Analogy to Purity of Mind.

_First_, It is a Mark of Politeness. It is universally agreed upon, that no one, unadorn'd with this Virtue, can go into Company without giving a manifest Offence. The easier or higher any one's Fortune is, this Duty arises proportionably. The different Nations of the World are as much distinguished by their Cleanliness, as by their Arts and Sciences. The more any Country is civilized, the more they consult this part of Politeness. We need but compare our Ideas of a Female _Hottentot_ and an _English_ Beauty, to be satisfied of the Truth of what hath been advanced.

In the next Place, Cleanliness may be said to be the Foster-Mother of Love. Beauty indeed most commonly produces that Passion in the Mind, but Cleanliness preserves it. An indifferent Face and Person, kept in perpetual Neatness, had won many a Heart from a pretty Slattern. Age it self is not unamiable, while it is preserved clean and unsullied: Like a piece of Metal constantly kept smooth and bright, we look on it with more Pleasure than on a new Vessel that is canker'd with Rust.

I might observe farther, that as Cleanliness renders us agreeable to others, so it makes us easie to our selves; that it is an excellent Preservative of Health; and that several Vices, destructive both to Mind and Body, are inconsistent with the Habit of it. But these Reflections I shall leave to the Leisure of my Readers, and shall observe in the Third Place, that it bears a great Analogy with Purity of Mind, and naturally inspires refined Sentiments and Passions.

We find from Experience, that through the Prevalence of Custom, the most vicious Actions lose their Horror, by being made familiar to us. On the contrary, those who live in the Neighbourhood of good Examples, fly from the first Appearances of what is shocking. It fares with us much after the same Manner, as to our Ideas. Our Senses, which are the Inlets to all the Images conveyed to the Mind, can only transmit the Impression of such things as usually surround them. So that pure and unsullied Thoughts are naturally suggested to the Mind, by those Objects that perpetually encompass us, when they are beautiful and elegant in their kind.

In the East, where the Warmth of the Climate makes Cleanliness more immediately necessary than in colder Countries, it is made one Part of their Religion: The _Jewish_ Law, (and the _Mahometan_, which in some things copies after it) is filled with Bathings, Purifications, and other Rites of the like Nature. Though there is the above-named convenient Reason to be assigned for these Ceremonies, the chief Intention undoubtedly was to typifie inward Purity and Cleanness of Heart by those outward Washings. We read several Injunctions of this Kind in the Book of _Deuteronomy_, which confirm this Truth; and which are but ill accounted for by saying, as some do, that they were only instituted for Convenience in the Desart, which otherwise could not have been habitable for so many Years.

I shall conclude this Essay, with a Story which I have somewhere read in an Account of _Mahometan_ Superstitions.

A _Dervise_ of great Sanctity one Morning had the Misfortune as he took up a Chrystal Cup, which was consecrated to the Prophet, to let it fall upon the Ground, and dash it in Pieces. His Son coming in, some time after, he stretched out his Hands to bless him, as his manner was every Morning; but the Youth going out stumbled over the Threshold and broke his Arm. As the old Man wondered at these Events, a Caravan passed by in its way from _Mecca_. The _Dervise_ approached it to beg a Blessing; but as he stroaked one of the Holy Camels, he received a Kick from the Beast, that sorely bruised him. His Sorrow and Amazement increased upon him, till he recollected that through Hurry and Inadvertency he had that Morning come abroad without washing his Hands.

[Footnote 1: Duumvir's fair wig cost 40 guineas. _Tatler_, No. 54.]

* * * * *

No. 632. Monday, December 13, 1714.

'--Explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris--'

Virg.

The Love of Symmetry and Order, which is natural to the Mind of Man, betrays him sometimes into very whimsical Fancies. _This noble Principle_, says a _French_ Author, _loves to amuse it self on the most trifling Occasions. You may see a profound Philosopher_, says he, _walk for an Hour together in his Chamber, and industriously 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 it was _Gregorio Leti_ who had published as many Books as he was Years old; [1] which was a Rule he had laid down and punctually observed to the Year of his Death. It was, perhaps, 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. _Herodotus_ 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.

_Dublin, Nov_. 30, 1714.

_Mr._ SPECTATOR,

'You lately recommended 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 past
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 can't 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 _Grotto's_. I know a Lady who has a very
Beautiful one, composed by her self, 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, till 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 Servant_,
A.B.

To Mrs.--on her _Grotto_.

A_ Grotto _so compleat, with such Design,
What Hands, Calypso, cou'd have form'd but Thine?
Each chequer'd Pebble, and each shining Shell,
So well proportion'd, and dispos'd so well,
Surprizing Lustre from thy Thought receive,
Assuming Beauties more than Nature gave.
To Her their various Shapes, and glossy Hue,
Their curious Symmetry they owe to You.
Not fam'd_ Amphion's _Lute,--whose powerful Call
Made Willing Stones dance to the_ Theban _Wall,
In more harmonious Ranks cou'd make them fall.
Not Ev'ning Cloud a brighter Arch can show,
Nor richer Colours paint the heav'nly Bow.

Where can unpolished Nature boast a Piece,
In all her Mossie Cells exact as This?
At the gay parti-color'd Scene--we start,
For Chance too regular, too rude for Art,

Charmed 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' enthusiastick Muse believes are true,
Thinks the Spot sacred, and its Genius You.
Lost in wild Rapture, wou'd 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 in View,
Thro' ev'ry Maze thy Artful Hand pursue.

Oh were I equal to the bold Design,
Or cou'd I boast such happy Art as Thine!
That cou'd rude Shells in such sweet Order place,
Give common Objects such uncommon Grace!
Like them my well-chose Words in ev'ry Line,
As sweetly temper'd should as sweetly shine.
So just a Fancy shou'd my Numbers warm,
Like the gay Piece shou'd the Description charm.
Then with superior Strength my Voice I'd raise,
The echoing_ Grotto _shou'd approve my Lays,
Pleas'd to reflect the well-sung Founder's Praise.

[Footnote 1: His boast was that he had been the author of a book and father of a child for 20 years successively.]

* * * * *

No. 633. Wednesday, December 15, 1714. Z. Pearce.

'Omnia profecto, cum se à coelestibus rebus referet ad humanas,
excelsius magnificentiusque et dicet et sentiet.'

Cicer.

The following Discourse is printed, as it came to my Hands, without Variation.

_Cambridge, Dec. 12_.

'It was a very common Enquiry among the Ancients why the Number of
excellent Orators, under all the Encouragements the most flourishing
States could give them, fell so far short of the Number of those who
excelled in all other Sciences. A Friend of mine used merrily to apply
to this Case an Observation of _Herodotus_, who says, That the most
useful Animals are the most fruitful in their Generation; whereas the
Species of those Beasts that are fierce and mischievous to Mankind are
but scarcely continued. The Historian instances in a Hare, which
always either breeds or brings forth; and a Lioness, which brings
forth but once, and then loses all Power of Conception. But, leaving
my Friend to his Mirth, I am of 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
enjoy'd.

'The first great and substantial Difference is, that their
Common-Places, in which almost the whole Force of Amplification
consists, were drawn from the Profit or Honesty of the Action, as they
regarded only this present State of Duration. But Christianity, as it
exalts Morality to a greater Perfection, as it brings the
Consideration of another Life into the Question, as it proposes
Rewards and Punishments of a higher Nature, and a longer Continuance,
is more adapted to affect the Minds of the Audience, naturally
inclined to pursue what it imagines its greatest Interest and Concern.
If _Pericles_, as Historians report, could shake the firmest
Resolutions 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 meer moral Considerations could supply us with. But what I
now mention relates only to the Power 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 Revelation, the Eye of Reason has so wide a Prospect into Eternity,
the Notions of a Deity are so worthy and refined, and the Accounts we
have of a State of Happiness or Misery so clear and evident, that the
Contemplation of such Objects will give our Discourse a noble Vigour,
an invincible Force, beyond the Power of any human Consideration.
_Tully_ requires in his Perfect Orator some Skill in the Nature of
Heavenly Bodies, because, says he, his Mind will become more extensive
and unconfined; and when he descends to treat of human Affairs, he
will both think and write in a more exalted and magnificent Manner.
For the same Reason that excellent Master would have recommended the
Study of those great and glorious Mysteries which Revelation has
discovered to us; to which the noblest Parts of this System of the
World are as much inferiour, as the Creature is less excellent than
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
_Apelles_ painted _Antigonus_ with one Side only towards the
Spectator, that the Loss of his Eye might not cast a Blemish upon the
whole Piece; so these represented the Condition of Man in its fairest
View, and endeavoured to conceal what they thought was a Deformity to
human Nature. I have often observed, that whenever the abovementioned
Orator in his Philosophical Discourses is led by his Argument to the
Mention of Immortality, he seems like one awaked out of Sleep, rous'd
and alarm'd with the Dignity of the Subject, he 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 Persuasion of Immortality, though it should be proved to be
an erroneous one. But had he lived to see all that Christianity has
brought to Light, how would he have lavished out all the Force of
Eloquence in those noblest Contemplations which humane 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 Imagination have
hurried him on in the Pursuit of the Mysteries of the Incarnation? How
would he have enter'd, 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?

'This Advantage Christians have; and it was with no small Pleasure I
lately met with a Fragment of _Longinus_, which is preserv'd, as a
Testimony of that Critick's Judgment, at the Beginning of a Manuscript
of the New Testament in the _Vatican_ Library. After that Author has
number'd up the most celebrated Orators among the _Grecians_, he says,
_Add to these_ Paul _of_ Tarsus, _the Patron of an Opinion not yet
fully proved_. As a Heathen, he condemns the Christian Religion; and,
as an impartial Critick, he judges in Favour of the Promoter and
Preacher of it. To me it seems, that the latter Part of his Judgment
adds great Weight to his Opinion of St. _Paul's_ Abilities, since,
under all the Prejudice of Opinions directly opposite, he is
constrained to acknowledge the Merit of that Apostle. And, no doubt,
such as _Longinus_ describes St. _Paul_, such he appeared to the
Inhabitants of those Countries which he visited and blessed with those
Doctrines was divinely commissioned to preach. Sacred Story gives us,
in one Circumstance, a convincing Proof of his Eloquence, when the Men
of _Lystra_ called him _Mercury, because he was the chief Speaker_,
and would have paid Divine Worship to him, as to the God who invented
and presided over Eloquence. This one Account of our Apostle sets his
Character, consider'd as an Orator only, above all the celebrated
Relations of the Skill and Influence of _Demosthenes_ and his
Contemporaries. Their Power in Speaking was admired, but still it was
thought human: Their Eloquence warmed and ravished the Hearers, but
still it was thought the Voice of Man, not the Voice of God. What
Advantage then had St. _Paul_ above those of _Greece_, or _Rome_? I
confess I can ascribe this Excellence to nothing but the Power of the
Doctrines 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 born and flourished, he confines himself to strict
Argument only; but my Reader may remember what many Authors of the
best Credit have assured us, That all Attempts upon the Affections and
Strokes of Oratory 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 of that of
others, are truly Great, and may serve as full Examples to those
excellent Rules for the Sublime, which the best of Criticks has left
us. The Sum of all this Discourse is, That our Clergy have no farther
to look for an Example of the Perfection they may arrive at, than to
St. _Paul_'s Harangues; that when he, under the Want of several
Advantages of Nature (as he himself tells us) was heard, admired, and
made a Standard to succeeding Ages by the best Judge of a different
Persuasion in Religion, I say our Clergy may learn, That, however
instructive their Sermons are, they are capable of receiving a great
Addition; which St. _Paul_ has given them a noble Example of, and the
Christian Religion has furnished them with certain Means of attaining
to.'

* * * * *

No. 634. Friday, December 17, 1714.

[Greek: Ho elachístôn deómenos éggista theôn.]

Socrates apud Xen.

It was the common Boast of the Heathen Philosophers, that by the Efficacy of their several Doctrines, they made Humane Nature resemble the Divine. How much mistaken soever they might be in the several Means they proposed for this End, it must be owned that the Design was great and glorious. The finest Works of Invention and Imagination are of very little Weight, when put in the Balance with what refines and exalts the rational Mind. _Longinus_ excuses _Homer_ very handsomely, when he says the Poet made his Gods like Men, that he might make his Men appear like the Gods: But it must be allowed that several of the ancient Philosophers acted, as _Cicero_ wishes _Homer_ had done; they endeavoured rather to make 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 Humane 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 have few Wants; and that he should cherish so many Virtues in his Soul, as to have a perpetual Source of Pleasure in himself.

The Christian Religion requires, that, after having framed the best Idea, we are able, of the Divine Nature, it should be our next Care to conform our selves to it, as far as our Imperfections will permit. I might mention several Passages in the sacred Writings on this Head, to which I might add many Maxims and wise Sayings of Moral Authors among the _Greeks_ and _Romans_.

I shall only instance a remarkable Passage, to this Purpose, out of _Julian's Cæsars_. The 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 Aurelius_, 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, enquire, 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.

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 reasonable Creature ought to imitate. The young Man, in a Heathen Comedy, might 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 listen'd to, will make us deviate from Reason and Goodness, the only Things wherein we can imitate the Supreme Being. In the next Life we meet with nothing to excite our Inclinations that doth not deserve them. I shall therefore dismiss my Reader with this Maxim, viz. _Our Happiness in this World proceeds from the Suppression of our Desires, but in the next World from the Gratification of them_.

* * * * *

No. 635. Monday, December 20, 1714. Henry Grove.

'Sentio Te sedem Hominum ac Domum contemplarique si tibi parva (ut
est) ita videtur, hæc coelestia semper Spectato; illa humana
contemnito.'

Cicero Somn. Scip.

The following Essay comes from the ingenious Author of the Letter upon _Novelty_, printed in a late _Spectator_: The Notions are drawn from the _Platonick_ 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 Publick.

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 Tryal 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.

This Thought hath made some imagine, (what, it must be confest, is not impossible) that the unfathomed Space is ever teeming with new Births, the younger still inheriting a greater Perfection than the elder. But as this doth not fall within my present View, I shall content my self 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 higher an Order than Brutes; so the End for which he designed his reasonable Offspring is 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 the Survey 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, his Organs, in their present Structure, are rather fitted to serve the Necessities of a vile Body, than to minister to his Understanding; 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, tho' 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 groveling Multitude beneath, in a Moment, his Foot slides, and he tumbles down headlong into the Grave.

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 doth such a Genius as Sir _Isaac Newton_, from amidst the Darkness that involves human Understanding, break forth, and appear like one of another Species! The vast Machine, we inhabit, lyes 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 Globe, shall e'er 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 Apartments of the Creation, know how they are 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 Dependance 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 to a more exalted Station.

The 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 Suspence, 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 celestial Abode, shall stand possessed of 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 it self 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 sociable 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 method of Communication, we call Intellectual Vision, as somewhat Analogous to the Sense of Seeing, which is the Medium of our Acquaintance with this visible World. And in some such way can God make himself the Object of immediate Intuition to the Blessed; and as he can, 'tis not improbable that he will, always condescending, in the Circumstances of doing it, to the Weakness and Proportion of finite Minds. His Works but faintly reflect the Image of his Perfections, 'tis a Second-hand Knowledge: To have a just Idea of him, it may be necessary that we see him as he is. But what is that? 'Tis something, that never entered into the Heart of Man to conceive; yet what we can easily conceive, will be a Fountain of Unspeakable, of Everlasting Rapture. All created Glories will fade and die away in his Presence. Perhaps it will be my Happiness to compare the World with the fair Exemplar of it in the Divine Mind; perhaps, to view the original Plan of those wise Designs that have been executing in a long Succession of Ages. Thus employed in finding out his Works, and contemplating their Author! how shall I fall prostrate and adoring, my Body swallowed up in the Immensity of Matter, my Mind in the Infinitude of his Perfections.

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ADDITIONAL NOTES.

_To No. 123._