Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

There is no question but Milton had this cir- history of that fallen angel who was employeu in cumstance in his thoughts; because in the follow-the circumvention of our first parents.

ing book he describes the chariot of the Messiah
with living wheels, according to the plan in Eze-
kiel's vision:-

-Forth rushed with whirlwind sound
The chariot of paternal Deity.
Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn,
Itself instinct with spirit-

I question not but Bossu, and the two Daciers. who are for vindicating everything that is censured in Homer, by something parallel in holy writ, would have been very well pleased had they thought of confronting Vulcan's tripods with

Ezekiel's wheels.

Had I followed Monsieur Bossu's method in my first paper on Milton, I should have dated the action of Paradise Lost from the beginning of Raphael's speech in this book, as he supposes the action of the Eneid to begin in the second book of that poem. I could allege many reasons for my drawing the action of the Eneid rather from its immediate beginning in the first book, than from its remote beginning in the second: and show why I have considered the sacking of Troy as an episode, according to the common acceptation of that word. But as this would be a dry unentertaining piece of criticism, and perhaps unneces Raphael's descent to the earth, with the figure sary to those who have read my first papers, I Whichever of the noof his person, is represented in very lively colors. shall not enlarge upon it. Several of the French, Italian, and English poets, tions be true, the unity of Milton's action is prehave given a loose to their imaginations in the served according to either of them; whether we description of angels: but I do not remember to consider the fall of man in its immediate beginhave met with any so finely drawn, and so con- ning, as proceeding from the resolutions taken in formable to the notions which are given of them the infernal council, or in its more remote beginin Scripture, as this in Milton. After having setning, as proceeding from the first revolt, of the The occasion which Milton him forth in all his heavenly plumage, and repre- angels in heaven. sented him as alighted upon the earth, the poet concludes his description with a circumstance which is altogether new, and imagined with the greatest strength of fancy:

-Like Maia's son he stood,

And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance fill'd
The circuit wide-

Raphael's reception by the guardian angels, his passing through the wilderness of sweets, his distant appearance to Adam, have all the graces that poetry is capable of bestowing. The author afterward gives us a particular description of Eve in her domestic employments:

So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste
She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent,
What choice to choose for delicacy best,
What order, so contrived, as not to mix
Tastes not well join'd, inelegant, but bring
Taste after taste, upheld with kindliest change;
Bestirs her then," etc.

Though in this, and other parts of the same book, the subject is only the housewifery of our first parents, it is set off with so many pleasing images and strong expressions, as make it none of the least agreeable parts in this divine work.

The natural majesty of Adam, and, at the same time, his submissive behavior to the superior being who had vouchsafed to be his guest; the solemn "hail" which the angel bestows upon the mother of mankind, with the figure of Eve ministering at the table; are circumstances which de

serve to be admired.

Raphael's behavior is every way suitable to the dignity of his nature, and to that character of a sociable spirit with which the author has so judiciously introduced him. He had received instructions to converse with Adam, as one friend converses with another, and to warn him of the enemy, who was contriving his destruction: accordingly, he is represented as sitting down at table with Adam, and eating of the fruits of Paradise. The occasion naturally leads him to his discourse on the food of angels. After having thus entered into conversation with man upon more indifferent subjects, he warns him of his obedience, and makes a natural transition to the

[blocks in formation]

assigns for this revolt, as it is founded on hints in holy writ, and on the opinion of some great writers, so it was the most proper that the poet could have made use of.

The revolt in heaven is described with great force of imagination, and a fine variety of circumstances. The learned reader cannot but be pleased with the poet's imitation of Homer in the last of the following lines:

At length into the limits of the north
They came, and Satan took his royal seat
High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount
Kais'd on a mount, with pyramids and tow'rs
From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold,
The palace of great Lucifer (so call

That structure in the dialect of men
Interpreted)

Homer mentions persons and things, which, he tells us, in the language of the gods are called by different names from those they go by in the language of men. Milton has imitated him with his usual judgment in this particular place, wherein he has likewise the authority of Scripture to justify him. The part of Abdiel, who was the only spirit that in this infinite host of Angels preserved his allegiance to his Maker, exhibits to us a noble moral of religious singularity. The zeal of the seraphim breaks forth in a becoming warmth of sentiments and expressions, as the character which is given us of him denotes that generous scorn and intrepidity which attend heroic virtue. The author, doubtless, designed it as a pattern to those who live among mankind in their present state of degeneracy and corruption.

So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he;
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrified;
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal:
Nor number nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,
Long way thro' hostile scorn, which he sustain'd
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;

And, with retorted scorn, his back he turned
L. On those proud tow'rs to swift destruction doom'd.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

are the first person I ever could prevail upon my- female ancestors have been always famed for good self to lay it before. When I tell you I have a housewifery, one of whom is made immortal, by healthy, vigorous constitution, a plentiful estate, giving her name to an eye-water and two sorts of no inordinate desires, and am married to a virtuous puddings. I cannot undertake to recite all her lovely woman, who neither wants wit nor good medicinal preparations, as salves, sere-cloths, nature, and by whom I have a numerous offspring powders, confects, cordials, ratafia, persico, orangeto perpetuate my family, you will naturally con- flower, and cherry-brandy, together with innuclude me a happy man. But, notwithstanding merable sorts of simple waters. But there is these promising appearances, I am so far from it, nothing I lay so much to my heart as that dethat the prospect of being ruined and undone by testable catalogue of counterfeit wines, which dea sort of extravagance, which of late years is in a rive their names from the fruits, herbs or trees, of less degree crept into every fashionable family, whose juices they are chiefly compounded. They deprives me of all the comforts of life, and ren- are loathsome to the taste, and pernicious to the ders me the most anxious, miserable man on earth. health; and as they seldom survive the year, and My wife, who was the only child and darling care then are thrown away, under a false pretense of of an indulgent mother, employed her early years frugality, I may affirm they stand me in more in learning all those accomplishments we gene- than if I entertained all our visitors with the best rally understand by good-breeding and polite burgundy and champagne. Coffee, chocolate, and education. She sings, dances, plays on the lute green, imperial, peco, and bohea teas, seem to be and harpsichord, paints prettily, is a perfect mis- trifles; but when the proper appurtenances of the tress of the French tongue, and has made a con- tea-table are added, they swell the account higher siderable progress in Italian. She is beside ex- than one would imagine. I cannot conclude withcellently skilled in all domestic sciences, as pre-out doing her justice in one article, where her serving, pickling, pastry, making wines of fruits frugality is so remarkable, I must not deny her of our own growth, embroidering, and needle- the merit of it, and that is in relation to her childworks of every kind. Hitherto, you will be apt ren, who are all confined, both boys and girls, to to think there is very little cause of complaint; one large room in the remotest part of the house, but suspend your opinion till I have further ex- with bolts on the doors and bars to the windows, plained myself, and then, I make no question, you under the care and tuition of an old woman, who will come over to mine. You are not to imagine I had been dry-nurse to her grandmother. This is find fault that she possesses or takes delight in their residence all the year round; and, as they the exercises of those qualifications I just now are never allowed to appear, she prudently thinks mentioned; 'tis the immoderate fondness she has it needless to be at any expense in apparel or to them that I lament, and that what is only de- learning. Her eldest daughter to this day would signed for the innocent amusement and recreation have neither read nor wrote, if it had not been for of life is become the whole business and study of the butler, who being the son of a country attor hers. The six months we are in town (for the ney, has taught her such a hand as is generally year is equally divided between that and the used for engrossing bills in chancery. By this country), from almost break of day till noon, the time I have sufficiently tired your patience with whole morning is laid out in practicing with her my domestic grievances; which I hope you will several masters; and, to make up the losses oc- agree could not well be contained in a narrow casioned by her absence in summer, every day in compass, when you consider what a paradox I the week their attendance is required; and as they undertook to maintain in the beginning of my are all people eminent in their professions, their epistle, and which manifestly appears to be but skill and time must be recompensed accordingly. too melancholy a truth. And now I heartily wish So how far these aricles extend, I leave you to the relation I have given of my misfortunes may judge. Limning, one would think, is no expensive be of use and benefit to the public. By the exdiversion; but, as she manages the matter, 'tis a ample I have set before them, the truly virtuous very considerable addition to her disbursements; wives may learn to avoid these errors which have which you will easily believe, when you know so unhappily misled mine, and which are visibly, she paints fans for all her female acquaintance, these three-First, in mistaking the proper oband draws all her relations' pictures in miniature; jects of her esteem, and fixing her affections upon the first must be mounted by nobody but Colmar, such things as are only the trappings and decoraand the other set by nobody but Charles Mather. tions of her sex. Secondly, in not distinguishing What follows is still much worse than the former; what becomes the different stages of life. And, for, as I told you she is a great artist at her needle, lastly, the abuse and corruption of some excellent 'tis incredible what sums she expends in embroi- qualities, which, if circumscribed within just dery; for, beside what is appropriated to her bounds, would have been the blessing and prospersonal use, as mantuas, petticoats, stomachers, perity of her family; but by a vicious extreme, handkerchiefs, purses, pin-cushions, and working- are like to be the bane and destruction of it."--T. aprons, she keeps four French Protestants continually employed in making divers pieces of superfluous furniture, as quilts, toilets, hangings for closets, beds, window-curtains, easy chairs, and tabourets; nor have I any hopes of ever reclaiming her from this extravagance, while she obstinately persists in thinking it a notable piece of good housewifery, because they are made at home, and she has had some share in the performance. There would be no end of relating to you the par ticulars of the annual charge, in furnishing her store-room with a profusion of pickles and preserves; for she is not contented with having everything, unless it be done every way, in which she consults an hereditary book of receipts; for her

At the date of this paper a noted toyman in Fleet-street.

No. 328.*] MONDAY, MARCH 17, 1711-12.

Delectata illa urbanitate tam stulta.
PETRON. ARB.

Delighted with unaffected plainness.
THAT useful part of learning which consists in
emendations, knowledge of different readings, and

As many of our readers may be pleased to see, "in puris naturalibus," the original paper, in room of which the present number was very early substituted, and as this curiost ty may now be inoffensively gratified, it is here faithfully reprinted from the copy in folio, in its order, marked as at first, No. 328, only with the addition of an asterisk. It had the signature T at the bottom; but see the desire annexed to the short letter in the following note, both which made the concluding part of No. 330 in the original publication of theso papers in folio.

cookery. I do not think but that if you and I can
agree to marry, and lay our means together, I shal.
be made grand juryman ere two or three years come
about, and that will be a great credit to us. If I
could have got a messenger for sixpence, I would have
sent one on purpose, and some trifle or other for a
token of my love; but I hope there is nothing lost for
that neither. So, hoping you will take this letter in
good part, and answer it with what care and speea
you can, I rest and remain
Yours, if my own,

the like, is what in all ages persons extremely one who had been well trained up in the sewing and wise and learned have had in great veneration. For this reason I cannot but rejoice at the following epistle, which lets us into the true author of the letter to Mrs. Margaret Clark, part of which I did myself the honor to publish in a former paper. I must confess I do not naturally affect critical learning; but finding myself not so much regarded as I am apt to flatter myself I may deserve from some professed patrons of learning, I could not but do myself the justice to show I am not a stranger to such erudition as they smile upon, if I were duly encouraged. However, this is only to let the world see what I could do; and I shall not give my reader any more of this kind, if he will forgive the ostentation I show at present.

[blocks in formation]

"Upon reading your paper of yesterday, I took the pains to look out a copy I had formerly taken, and remembered to be very like your last letter: comparing them, I found they were the very same; and have, underwritten, sent you that part of it which you say was torn off. I hope you will in sert it, that posterity may know 'twas Gabriel Bullock that made love in that natural style of which you seem to be so fond. But, to let you see I have other manuscripts in the same way, I i have sent you inclosed three copies, faithfully taken by my own hand from the originals, which were written by a Yorkshire gentleman of a good estate to Madam Mary, and an uncle of hers, a knight very well known by the most ancient gentry in that and several other counties of Great Britain. I have exactly followed the form and spelling. I have been credibly informed that Mr. William Bullock, the famous comedian, is the descendant of this Gabriel, who begot Mr. William Bullock's greatgrandfather on the body of the above-mentioned Mrs. Margaret Clark. As neither Speed, nor Baker, nor Selden, take notice of it, I will not pretend to be positive; but desire that the letter may be reprinted, and what is here recovered may be in Italics.

"I am, Sir,

"Your daily Reader."

“To her I very much respect, Mrs. Marg. Clark." "Lovely, and oh that I could say loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray you let affection excuse presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy the sight of your sweet countenance and comely body sometimes when I had occasion to buy treacle or liquorish powder at the apothecary's shop, I am so enamored with you, that I can no more keep close my flaming desire to become your servant. And I am the more bold now to write to your sweet self, because I am now my own man, and may match where I please; for my father is taken away; and now I am come to my living, which is ten yard land and a house; and there is never a yard of land in our field but is as well worth ten pounds a year as a thief's worth a halter, and all my brothers and sisters are provided for: beside I have good household stuff, though I say it, both brass and pewter, linens and woolens; and though my house be thatched, yet if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of it slated. If you shall think well of this motion, I will wait upon you as soon as my new clothes are made, and hay-harvest is in. I could, though I say it have good matches in our town; but my mother (God's peace be with her) charged me on her death-bed to marry a gentlewoman,

*In some countries 20, in some 24, and in others 30 acres of land --Irgata Terræ

[ocr errors]

66

Sweeepston, 'MR. GABRIEL BULLOCK Leicestershire. "now my father is dead."

[ocr errors]

When the coal carts come, I shall send oftener; and may come in one of them myself."*

"For Sir William to go to london at westminster re-
member a parlement.
'SIR,

66

[ocr errors]

William, i hope that you are well. i write to let you know that i am in trouble about a lady your nease; and i do desire that you will be my friend; for when i did com to see her at your hall, i was mighty Abuesed. i would fain a see you at topecliff, and thay would not let me go to you; but desire that you will be our friends, for it is no dishonor neither for you nor she, for God did make us all. i wish that i might see yu, for they say that you are a good man; and many doth wounder at it, but madam norton is abuesed and ceated two i believe. i might a had many a lady, but I con have none but her with a good consons, for there is a God that know our hearts. if you and madam norton will come to York, there i shill meet you, if God be willing, and if you be pleased. so be not angterie till you know the trutes of things. "I give my to me lady, and

[ocr errors][merged small]

to Mr. Aysenby, and to madam norton, March the 19th, 1706.”

"This is for madam mary norton disforth Lady she went to York.

"Madam Mary.

Deare loving sweet lady, i

hope you are well. Do not go to london, for they will put you in the nunnery, and heed not Mrs Lucy what she saith to you, for she will ly and ceat you. go from to another place, and we will gate wed so with speed. mind what i write to you, for if they gate you to london they will keep you there; and so let us gate wed, and we will both go. SO if you go to london, you rueing yourself. so heed not what none of them saith to you: let us gate wed, and we shall lie to gader any time. i will do anything for you to my poore. i hope the devil will faile them all, for a hellish company there be. from their cursed trick and mischiefus ways good lord bless and deliver both you and me.

"I think to be at York the 24 day."

"This is for madam mary norton to go to london for a lady that belongs to dishforth.

"Madam Mary i hope you are well. i am soary that you went away from York, deare loving sweet lady, i writt to let you know that i do remain faith full; and if can let me know where i can meet you i will wed you, and I will do anything to my poor; for you are a good woman, and will be a loving Misteris. i am in troubel for you, so if you will come to york i will wed you. so with speed come, and I will have none but you. so, sweet

*See No. 324, and note, where this letter is given imper fectly, and supplied otherwise.

love, heed not what to say to me, and with speed come; heed not what none of them say to you; your Maid makes you believe ought.

"So deare love think of Mr. george Nillson with speed; i sent 2 or 3 letters before.

"I gave misteris elcock some nots, and thay put me in pruson all the night for me pains, and non new whear i was, and I did gat cold.

"But it is for mrs. Lucy to go a good way from home, for in york and round about she is known; to writ any more her deeds, the same will tell hor soul is black within, hor corkis stinks of hell. March 19th, 1706."*

66

No. 329.] TUESDAY, MARCH 18, 1711-12.
Ire tamen restat, Numa quo devenit et Ancus.
HOR. 1 Ep. vi, 27.
With Ancus, and with Numa, kings of Rome,
We must descend into the silent tomb.

My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me t'other night, that he had been reading my paper upon Westminster-abbey, in which, says he, there are a great many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same time, that he observed, I had promised another paper upon the tombs, and that he should be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had read history. I could not imagine at first how this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that he had been busy all last summer upon Baker's Chronicle, which he has quoted several times in his disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last coming to town. Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next morning, that we might go together to the abbey.

infection, and that he got together a quantity of it upon the first news of the sickness being at Dantzick: when of a sudden turning short to one of his servants, who stood behind him, he bid him call a hackney-coach, and take care it was an elderly man that drove it.

He then resumed his discourse upon Mrs. Truby's water, telling me that the widow Truby was one who did more good than all the doctors and apothecaries in the country; that she distilled every poppy that grew within five miles of her; that she distributed her water gratis among all sorts of people: to which the knight added, that she had a very great jointure, and that the whole country would fain have it a match between him and her; "and truly," says Sir Roger, if I had not been engaged, perhaps I could not have done better."

[ocr errors]

His discourse was broken off by his man's telling him he had called a coach. Upon our going to it, after having cast his eye upon the wheels, he asked the coachman if his axletree was good; upon the fellow's telling him he would warrant it, the knight turned to me, told me he looked like an honest man, and went in without further ceremony.

We had not gone far, when Sir Roger, popping out his head, called the coachman down from his box, and, upon presenting himself at the window, asked him if he smoked. As I was considering what this would end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good tobacconist's, and take in a roll of their best Virginia. Nothing material happened in the remaining part of our journey, till we were set down at the west end of the abbey.

As we went up the body of the church, the knight pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monuments, and cried out, "A brave man, I warrant him!" Passing afterward by Sir Cloudesly Shovel, he flung his hand that way, and cried,

I found the knight under the butler's hands, who always shaves him. He was no sooner dressed, than he called for a glass of the widow Sir Cloudesly Shovel! a very gallant man." Truby's water, which he told me he always drank As we stood before Busby's tomb, the knight before he went abroad. He recommended me a uttered himself again after the same manner: dram of it at the same time with so much hearti-"Dr. Busby! a great man! he whipped my ness, that I could not forbear drinking it. As soon as I had got it down, I found it very unpalatable; upon which the knight, observing that I had made several wry faces, told me that he knew I should not like it at first, but that it was the best thing in the world against the stone or gravel.

I could have wished indeed that he had acquainted me with the virtues of it sooner; but it was too late to complain, and I knew what he had done was out of good-will. Sir Roger told me further, that he looked upon it to be very good for a man while he stayed in town, to keep off

In a MS. written by Dr. Birch, now before the annotator, it is said, that an original number of the Spectator in folio was withdrawn at the time of its republication in volumes, injured by its appearance in print. It was, most probably,

on the remonstrance of a family who conceived themselves

this very paper.

The following short letter, with the desire annexed to it, re subjoined to No. 330 in the original publication of the Spectator in folio: as they evidently relate to this paper which was suppressed very soon after its original date, they are here reprinted for the first time.

"MR. SPECTATOR,

March 18, 1711-12.

"The ostentation you showed yesterday [March 17] would have been pardonable, had you provided better for the two extremities of your paper, and placed in the one the letter R, in the other,

grandfather; a very great man! I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead: a very great man!"

We were immediately conducted into the little chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger planting himself at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to everything he said, particularly to the account he gave us of the lord who had cut off the king of Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon his knees; and concluding them all to be great men, was conducted to the figure which represents that martyr to good housewifery who died by the prick of a needle. Upon our interpreter's telling us that she was a maid of honor to Queen Elizabeth, the knight was very inquisitive into her name and family; and, after having regarded her finger for some time, "I wonder," says he, "that Sir Richard Baker has said nothing of her in his Chronicle."

We were then conveyed to the two coronation chairs, where my old friend, after having heard that the stone under the most ancient of them, which was brought from Scotland, was called. Jacob's pillar, sat himself down in the chair, and,. looking like the figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter, what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever been in Scotland? The fellow, instead of returning him an answer, told him, that he hoped his honor would pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir Roger a little ruffled the reader is desired, in the paper of the 17th, to read R, upon being thus trepanned; but our guide not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon re

Nescio quid meditans nugarum et totus in illis.
A word to the wise.
"I am your humble Servant,

"T. TRASH." According to the emendation of the above correspondent,

for T.

covered ais good humor, and whispered in my a very luxuriant trade and credit to very narrow ear, that if Will Wimble were with us, and saw circumstances, in comparison to that of his former those chairs, it would go hard but he would get a tobacco stopper out of one or t'other of them. Sir Roger in the next place, laid his hand upon Edward the Third's sword, and leaning upon the pommel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black Prince: concluding, that in Sir Richard Baker's opinion, Edward the third was one of the greatest princes that ever sat upon the English throne.

We were then shown Edward the Confessor's tomb; upon which Sir Roger acquainted us, that he was the first who touched for the evil: and afterward Henry the Fourth's; upon which he shook his head, and told us there was fine reading in the casualties of that reign.

Our conductor then pointed to that monument where there is the figure of one of our English kings without a head; and upon giving us to know, that the head, which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away several years since; "Some whig, I'll warrant you," says Sir Roger; "you ought to lock up your kings better; they will carry off the body too, if you don't take care."

The glorious name of Henry the Fifth and Queen Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our knight observed with some surprise, had a great many kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen in the abbey.

For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the knight show such an honest passion for the glory of his country, and such a respectful gratitude to the memory of its princes.

I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good old friend, which flows out toward every one he converses with, made him very kind to our interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man for which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, telling him, that he should be very glad to see him at his lodgings in Norfolk buildings, and talk over these matters with him more at leisure.-L.

abundance. This took away the vigor of his mind, and all manner of attention to a fortune which he now thought desperate; insomuch that he died without a will, having before buried my mother, in the midst of his other misfortunes. I was sixteen years of age when I lost my father; and an estate of 2001. a-year came into my possession, without friend or guardian to instruct me in the management or enjoyment of it. The natural consequence of this was (though I wanted no director, and soon had fellows who found me out for a smart young gentleman, and led me into all the debaucheries of which I was capable), that my companions and I could not well be supplied without running into debt, which I did very frankly, till I was arrested, and conveyed, with a guard strong enough for the most despe rate assassin, to a bailiff's house, where I lay four days surrounded with very merry, but not very agreeable company. As soon as I had extricated myself from this shameful confinement, I reflected upon it with so much horror, that I deserted all my old acquaintance, and took chambers in an inn of court, with a resolution to study the law with all possible application. I trifled away a whole year in looking over a thousand intricacies, without a friend to apply to in any case of doubt; so that I only lived there among men as little children are sent to school before they are capable of improvement, only to be out of harm's way. In the midst of this state of suspense, not knowing how to dispose of myself, I was sought for by a relation of mine; who, upon observing a good inclination in me, used me with great familiarity, and carried me to his seat in the country. When I came there he introduced me to all the good company in the county; and the great obligation I have to him for this kind notice, and residence with him ever since, has made so strong an impression upon me, that he has an authority of a father over me, founded upon the love of a bro ther. I have a good study of books, a good stable of horses always at my command; and, though I am not now quite eighteen years of age, familiar converse on his part, and a strong inclination to

No. 330.] WEDNESDAY, MARCH 19, 1711-12. exert myself on mine, have had an effect upon me

Maxima debetur pueris reverentia

Juv., Sat. xiv, 48.

To youth the greatest reverence is due.

THE following letters, written by two very considerate correspondents, both under twenty years of age, are very good arguments of the necessity of taking into consideration the many incidents which affect the education of youth.

"SIR,

"I have long expected that. in the course of your observations upon the several parts of human life, you would one time or other fall upon a subject, which, since you have not, I take the liberty to recommend to you. What I mean is, the patronage of young modest men to such as are able to countenance, and introduce them into the world. For want of such assistances, a youth of merit languishes in obscurity or poverty when his circumstances are low, and runs into riot and excess when his fortunes are plentiful. I cannot make myself better understood, than by sending you a history of myself, which I shall desire you to insert in your paper, it being the only way I have of expressing my gratitude for the highest obligations imaginable.

"I am the son of a merchant of the city of London, who, by many losses, was reduced from

that makes me acceptable wherever I go. Thus, Mr. Spectator, by this gentleman's favor and patronage, it is my own fault if I am not wiser and richer every day I live. I speak this as well by subscribing the initial letters of my name to thank him, as to incite others to an imitation of his virtue. It would be a worthy work to show what great charities are to be done without expense, and how many noble actions are lost, out of inadvertency, in persons capable of performing them, if they were put in mind of it. If a gentleman of figure in a county would make his family a pattern for sobriety, good sense, and breeding, and would kindly endeavor to influence the education and growing prospects of the younger gentry about him, I am apt to believe it would save him a great deal of stale beer on a public occasion, and render him the leader of his country from their gratitude to him, instead of being a slave to their riots and tumults, in order to be made their representative. The same thing might be recommended to all who have made any progress in any parts of knowledge, or arrived at any degree in a profession: others may gain preferments and fortunes from their patrons; but I have, I hope, received from mine good habits and virtues. I repeat to you, Sir, my request to print this, in return for all the evil a helpless orphan shall ever escape and all the good he shall receive in this life

« PredošláPokračovať »