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things terrible; they raise a new creation of monsters, dragons, and giants; where the danger ends the hero ceases: when he has won an empire or gained his mistress, the rest of his story is not worth relating. My friend carried his discourse so far as to say, that it was for higher beings than men to join happiness and greatness in the same idea; but that in our condition we have no conception of superlative excellence, or heroism, but as it is surrounded with a shade of distress.

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ticularly performing the public service with
a due zeal and devotion; I am the more en-
couraged to lay before them by your means,
several expressions used by some of them
in their prayers before sermon, which I am
not well satisfied in. As their giving some
titles and epithets to great men, which are
indeed due to them in their several ranks
and stations, but not properly used, I think,
in our prayers. Is it not contradiction to
say, illustrious, right reverend, and right
honourable poor sinners? These distinc-
tions are suited only to cur state here, and
have no place in heaven; we see they are
omitted in the Liturgy: which, I think, the
clergy should take for their pattern in their
own forms of devotion. There is another
expression which I would not mention, but
that I have heard it several times before a
learned congregation, to bring in the last
petition of the prayer in these words, “O
set not the Lord be angry, and I will speak
but this once;" as if there was no difference
between Abraham's interceding for Sodom,
for which he had no warrant, as we can
find, and our asking those things which we
are required to pray for; they would there-
fore have much more reason to fear his
anger, if they did not make such petitions
to him. There is another pretty fancy:
when a young man has a mind to let us
know who gave him his scarf, he speaks a
parenthesis to the Almighty. "Bless, as I
am in duty bound to pray, the right ho-
nourable the countess;" is not that as much
as to say, "Bless her, for thou knowest I
am her chaplain?" Your humble servant,
T.
'J. O.'

It is certainly the proper education we should give ourselves to be prepared for the ill events and accidents we are to meet with: in a life sentenced to be a scene of sorrow; but instead of this expectation, we soften curselves with prospects of constant delight, and destroy in our minds the seeds of fortitude and virtue, which should support us in hours of anguish. The constant pursuit of pleasure has in it something insolent and improper for our being. There is a pretty sober liveliness in the ode of Horace to Delius, where he tells him, loud mirth, or immoderate sorrow, inequality of behaviour, either in prosperity er adversity, are alike ungraceful in man, that is born to die. Moderation in both circumstances is peculiar to generous minds. Men of that sort ever taste the gratifications of health, and all other advantages of life, as if they were liable to part with them, and when bereft of them, resign them with a greatness of mind which shows they know their value and duration. The contempt of pleasure is a certain preparatory for the contempt of pain. Without this the mind is, as it were, taken suddenly by an unforeseen event; but he that has always, during health and prosperity, been abstinent in No. 313.] Thursday, Feb, 28, 1711-12. his satisfactions, enjoys, in the worst of difficulties, the reflection, that his anguish is not aggravated with the comparison of past pleasures which upbraid his present condition. Tully tells us a story after Pompey, which gives us a good taste of the pleasant manner the men of wit and philosophy had in old times, of alleviating the distresses of life by the force of reason and philosophy. Pompey, when he came to Rhodes, had a curiosity to visit the famous philosopher Possidonius; but finding him in his sick bed, he bewailed the misfortune. that he should not hear a discourse from him: But you may,' answered Possidonius; and immediately entered into the point of stoical philosophy, which says, pain is not an evil. During the discourse, upon every puncture he felt from his distemper, he smiled and cried out, Pain, pain, be as impertinent and troublesome as you please, I shall never own that thou art an evil.'

'MR. SPECTATOR,-Having seen in several of your papers a concern for the honour of the clergy, and their doing every thing as becomes their character, and par

Exigite ut mores teneros seu pollice ducat
Ut si quis cera vultum facit–

Jur. Sat. vii. 237.

Bid him besides his daily pains employ,
To form the tender manners of the boy,
And work him, like a waxen babe, with art.
To perfect symmetry in evry part.—Ch. Dryden.

I SHALL give the following letter no other recommendation than by telling my

* In the original folio edition of this paper, there was

the following passage, after the above sentence.

Another expression which I take to be improper, is this, the whole race of mankind, when they pray for the race of mankind may be used for the present generation, though, I think, not very fitly the whole race

all men; for race signifies lineage or descent; and if

do not remember to have met with that expression, in their sense, any where but in the old version of Psalin xiv, which those men, I suppose, have but little este una for. And some, when they have prayed for all schools and nurseries of good learning and true religion, espe

takes in all from the beginning to the end of the world.

cially the two universities, add these words, Grant that from them, and all other places dedicated to thy wor ship and service, may come forth such persons,' &c. But what do they mean by all other places? It seems to me, that this is either a tautology, as being the same with all schools and nurseries before expressed, or else it the divine service, which cannot properly be intended runs too far; for there are several places dedicated to here.]

readers that it comes from the same hand with that of last Thursday.

SIR,-I send you according to my promise, some farther thoughts on the education of youth, in which I intend to discuss that famous question, "Whether the education at a public school, or under a private tutor, is to be preferred?"

As some of the greatest men in most ages have been of very different opinions in this matter, I shall give a short account of what I think may be best urged on both sides, and afterwards leave every person to determine for himself.

'One of the greatest writers our nation ever produced, observes, that a boy who forms parties, and makes himself popular in a school or a college would act the same part with equal ease in a senate or a privy council; and Mr. Osborne, speaking like a man versed in the ways of the world, affirms, that the well laying and carrying on a design to rob an orchard, trains up a youth insensibly to caution, secrecy, and circumspection, and fits him for matters of greater importance.

In short, a private education seems the most natural method for the forming of a virtuous man; a public education for making It is certain from Suetonius, that the a man of business. The first would furnish Romans thought the education of their chil-out a good subject for Plato's republic, the dren a business properly belonging to the latter a member of a community overrun parents themselves; and Plutarch, in the with artifice and corruption. life of Marcus Cato, tells us, that as soon as his son was capable of learning, Cato would suffer nobody to teach him but himself, though he had a servant named Chilo, who was an excellent grammarian, and who taught a great many other youths.

On the contrary, the Greeks seemed more inclined to public schools and seminaries.

'A private education promises, in the first place, virtue and good breeding; and a public school, manly assurance, and an early knowledge in the ways of the world.

'It must, however, be confessed, that a person at the head of a public school has sometimes so many boys under his direction, that it is impossible he should extend a due proportion of his care to each of them. This is, however, in reality, the fault of the age, in which we often see twenty parents, who, though each expects his son should be made a scholar, are not contented altogether to make it worth while for any man of a liberal education to take upon him the care of their instruction. "In our great schools, indeed, this fault has been of te years rectified, so that we have at present not only ingenious men for the chief masters, but such as have proper ushers and assistants under them. I must nevertheless own, that for want of the same encouragement in the country, we have many a promising genius spoiled and abused in those little seminaries.

'Mr. Locke, in his celebrated treatise of education, confesses, that there are inconveniences to be feared on both sides: "If," says he, "I keep my son at home, he is in danger of becoming my young master; if I send him abroad, it is scarce possible to keep him from the reigning contagion of rudeness and vice. He will perhaps be more innocent at home, but more ignorant 'I am the more inclined to this opinion, of the world, and more sheepish when he having myself experienced the usage of comes abroad." However, as this learned two rural masters, each of them very unfit author asserts, that virtue is much more for the trust they took upon them to disdifficult to be obtained than knowledge of charge. The first imposed much more the world, and that vice is a more stubborn, upon me than my parts, though none of as well as a more dangerous fault than the weakest, could endure; and used me sheepishness, he is altogether for a private barbarously for not performing impossibilieducation; and the more so, because he ties. The latter was of quite another temdoes not see why a youth, with right man-per; and a boy who would run upon his agement, might not attain the same assurance in his father's house as at a public school. To this end, he advises parents to accustom their sons to whatever strange faces come to the house: to take them with them when they visit their neighbours, and to engage them in conversation with men of parts and breeding.

errands, wash his coffee-pot, or ring the bell, might have as little conversation with any of the classics as he thought fit. I have known a lad at this place excused his exercise for assisting the cook-maid; and remember a neighbouring gentleman's son was among us five years, most of which time he employed in airing and watering It may be objected to this method, that our master's gray pad. I scorned to comconversation is not the only thing neces-pound for my faults by doing any of these sary; but that unless it be a conversation elegant offices, and was accordingly the with such as are in some measure their best scholar, and the worst used of any boy equals in parts and years, there can be no room for emulation, contention, and several of the most lively passions of the mind; which, without being sometimes moved, by these means, many possibly contract a dulness and insensibility.

in the school.

'I shall conclude this discourse with an advantage mentioned by Quintilian, as accompanying a public way of education, which I have not yet taken notice of; namely, that we very often contract such

friendships at school, as are a service to us | No. 314.] Friday, February 29, 1711-12. all the following parts of our lives.

I shall give you, under this head, a story very well known to several persons, and which you may depend upon as a real truth.

Every one, who is acquainted with Westminster-school, knows that there is a curtain which used to be drawn across the room to separate the upper school from the lower. A youth happened, by some mischance, to tear the above-mentioned curtain. The severity of the master* was too well known for the criminal to expect any pardon for such a fault; so that the boy, who was of a meek temper, was terrified to death at the thoughts of his appearance, when his friend who sat next to him bade him be of good cheer, for that he would take the fault on himself. He kept his word accordingly. As soon as they were grown up to be men, the civil war broke out, in which our two friends took opposite sides; one of them followed the parliament, the other the royal party.

As their tempers were different, the youth who had torn the curtain endeavoured to raise himself on the civil list, and the other who had borne the blame of it, on the military. The first succeeded so well that he was in a short time made a judge under the protector. The other was engaged in the unhappy enterprise of Penruddock+ and Groves in the West. I suppose, sir. I need not acquaint you with the event of that undertaking. Every one knows that the royal party was routed, and all the heads of them, among whom was the cur⚫tain champion, imprisoned at Exeter. It happened to be his friend's lot at that time to go to the western circuit. The trial of the rebels, as they were then called, was very short, and nothing now remained but to pass sentence on them; when the judge hearing the name of his old friend, and observing his face more attentively, which he had not seen for many years, asked him, if he was not formerly a Westminster scholar? By the answer, he was soon convinced that it was his former generous friend; and without saying any thing more at that time, made the best of his way to London, where, employing all his power and interest with the Protector, he saved his friend from the fate of his unhappy associates.

"The gentleman whose life was thus preserved by the gratitude of his school-fellow, was afterwards the father of a son, whom he lived to see promoted in the church, and who still deservedly fills one of the highest stations in it.'‡

Busby.

X.

+ John Penrudlock, the son of a gentleman of the same name in Wiltshire: his party was defeated by colonel Coke, who, notwithstanding his having promised

quarter, ordered Penruddock to be be beaded in 1063.

The gentleman alluded to was colonel Wake, father

to Dr. Wake, archbishop of Canterbury.

Tandem desine matrem

Tempestiva sequi viro. Her. Od. xxiii. Lib. 1. II.
Attend thy mother's heels no more,
Now grown mature for man, and ripe for joy.

Crench

'Feb. 7, 1711-12. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am a young man about eighteen years of age, and have been in love with a young woman of the same age about this half year. I go to see her six days in the week, but never could have the happiness of being with her alone. If any of her friends are at home, she will see me in their company; but if they be not in the way, she flies to her chamber. I can discover no signs of her aversion; but either a fear of falling into the toils of matrimony, or a childish timidity, deprives us of an interview apart, and drives us upon the difficulty of languishing out our lives in fruitless expectation. Now, Mr. Spectator, if you think us ripe for economy, persuade the dear creature, that to pine away into barrenness and deformity under a mother's shade, is not so honourable, nor does she appear so amiable, as she would in full bloom.'

[There is a great deal left out before he concludes.]

'Mr. Spectator, your humble servant,
BOB HARMLESS.'

If this gentleman be really no more than eighteen, I must do him the justice to say, he is the most knowing infant I have yet met with. He does not, I fear, yet understand, that all he thinks of is another wo man; therefore, until he has given a farther account of himself, the young lady is hereby directed to keep close to her mother.

THE SPECTATOR.

I cannot comply with the request in Mr. Trot's letter; but let it go just as it came to my hands, for being so familiar with the old gentleman, as rough as he is to him. Since Mr. Trot has an ambition to make him his father-in-law, he ought to treat him with more respect; besides his style to me might have been more distant than he has thought fit to afford me: moreover, his mistress shall continue in her confinement, until he has found cut which word in his letter is not rightly spelt.

MR. SPECTATOR,-I shall ever own myself your obliged humble servant, for the advice you gave me concerning my dancing; which, unluckily, came too late for, as I said, I would not leave off capering until I had your opinion of the matter. I was t cur famous assembly the day before I received your papers, and there was chserved by an old gentleman, who was informed I had a respect for his daughter. He told me I was an insignificant little fellow, and said, that for the future he would take care of his child: so that he did not doubt but tɔ

cross my amorous inclinations. The lady
is confined to her chamber, and, for my part,
I am ready to hang myself with the thoughts
that I have danced myself out of favour with
the father. I hope you will pardon the
trouble I give; but shall take it for a mighty
favour, if you will give me a little more of
your advice to put me in a right way to
cheat the old dragon, and obtain my mis-
tress. I am once more, sir, your obliged
humble servant,
JOHN TROT.'

"York, Feb. 23, 1711-12.

'Let me desire you to make what alterations you please, and insert this as soon as possible. Pardon mistakes by haste.'

I never do pardon mistakes by haste. THE SPECTATOR. 'Feb. 27, 1711-12. 'SIR,-Pray be so kind as to let me know what you esteem to be the chief qualification of a good poet, especially one who writes plays; and you will very much oblige, sir, your very humble servant,

To be a very well-bred man.

N. B.'

business of this claim in the audience, and let us know when we may cry, "Altro Volto," Anglice, "Again, Again," for the future. I am an Englishman, and expect some reason or other to be given me, and perhaps an ordinary one may serve; but I expect your answer. I am, sir, your most humble servant, TOBY RENTFREE."

'Nov. 29.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-You must give me leave, amongst the rest of your female corwhich has already given you many a sperespondents, to address you about an affair culation; and which, I know, I need not tell you has had a very happy influence over the adult part of our sex; but as many of us are either too old to learn, or too obstinate in the pursuit of the vanities which have been bred up with us from our infancy, and all of us quitting the stage whilst you are prompting us to act our part well; you ought, methinks, rather to turn your instructions for the benefit of that part of our sex who are yet in their native innocence, and ignorant of the vices and that variety of unhappiness that reign amongst us.

detect the mal-administration of governesses as successfully as you have exposed that of pedagogues; and rescue our sex from the prejudice and tyranny of education as well as that of your own, who, without your seasonable interposition, are like to improve upon the vices that are now in vogue.

THE SPECTATOR. I must tell you, Mr. Spectator, that it is 'MR. SPECTATOR,-You are to know as much a part of your office to oversee the that I am naturally brave, and love fight- education of the female part of the nation, ing as well as any man in England. This as well as the male; and to convince the gallant temper of mine makes me extreme-world you are not partial, pray proceed to ly delighted with battles on the stage. I give you this trouble to complain to you, that Nicolini refused to gratify me in that part of the opera for which Í have most taste. I observe it is become a custom, that whenever any gentlemen are particularly pleased with a song, at their crying out "Encore," or "Altro Volto," the performer is so obliging as to sing it over again. I was at the opera the last time Hydaspes was performed. At that part of it where the hero engages with the lion, the graceful manner with which he put that terrible monster to death gave me so great a pleasure, and at the same time so just a sense of that gentleman's intrepidity and conduct, that I could not forbear desiring a repetition of it, by crying out "Altro Volto," in a very audible voice; and my friends flatter me that I pronounced these words with a tolerable good accent, considering that was but the third opera I had ever seen in my life. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there was so little regard had to me, that the lion was carried off, and went to bed, without being killed any more that night. Now, sir, pray consider that I did not understand a word of what Mr. Nicolini said to this cruel creature; besides, I have no ear for music; so that, during the long dispute between them, the whole entertainment I had The Boarding School for young Gentlewas from my eyes. Why then have not I women, which was formerly kept on Mileas much right to have a graceful action re- End-Green, being laid down, there is now peated as another has a pleasing sound, one set up almost opposite to it, at the Two since he only hears, as I only see, and we Golden Balls, and much more convenient neither of us know that there is any rea-in every respect; where, besides the comsonable thing a-doing? Pray, sir, settle the mon instructions given to young gentle

I who know the dignity of your post as Spectator, and the authority a skilful eye ought to bear in the female world, could not forbear consulting you, and beg your advice in so critical a point, as is that of the education of young gentlewomen. Having already provided myself with a very convenient house in a good air, I am not without hope but that you will promote this generous design. I must further tell you, sir, that all who shall be committed to my conduct, besides the usual accomplishments of the needle, dancing, and the French tongue, shall not fail to be your constant readers. It is therefore my humble petition, that you will entertain the town on this important subject, and so far oblige a stranger as to raise a curiosity and inquiry in my behalf, by publishing the following advertisement. I am, sir, your constant admirer, M. W.'

ADVERTISEMENT.

women, they will be taught the whole art of | educated; and designs to proceed in the pastry and preserving, with whatever may said office after the same manner that render them accomplished. Those who visitants of colleges do in the two famous please to make trial of the vigilance and universities of this land. ability of the persons concerned, may inquire at the Two Golden Balls on MileEnd-Green, near Stepney, where they will

receive further satisfaction.

This is to give notice, that the Spectator has taken upon him to be visitant of all boarding-schools where young women are

All lovers who write to the Spectator, are desired to forbear one expression, which is in most of the letters to him, either out of laziness or want of invention, and is true of not above two thousand women in the whole world: viz. She has in her all that is valuable in woman.

T.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

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