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VIRG. Æn. iv. 285.

With him. Who but himself ever left a throne to learn to sit in it with more grace? Who ever thought

No. 140.) FRIDAY, AUGUST 10, 1711. Limself mean in absolute power, till he had learned

Animum curis nupc huc, nunc dividit illuc. Lo use it?

If we consider this wonderful person, it is per- This way and that the anxious mind is torn. plexity to know where to begin his encomium.

When I acquaint my reader that I have many Others may in a metaphorical or philosophic sense other letters not yet acknowledged, I believe he will be said to command themselves, but this emperor is owu what I have a mind he should believe, that I also literally under his own command. How gene- bave no small charge upon me, but am a person of rous and how good was his entering his own name as a private man in the army be raised, that none in it employ the present hour only in reading petitions in

some consequence in this world. I shall therefore might expect to outrun the steps with which he him the order as follows self advanced! By such measures this godlike prince learned to conquer, learned to use his conquests.

“MR. SPECTATOR, How terrible has he appeared in battle, how gentle “ I have lost so much time already, that I desire, in victory! Shall then the base arts of the French- upon the receipt hereof, you will sit down immeman be held polite, and the bonest labours of the diately and give me your answer. And I would know Russian barbarous ? No; barbarity is the ignorance of you whether a pretender of mine really loves me. of true honour, or placing anything instead of it. As well as I can, I will describe bis manders. When The unjust prince is ignoble and barbarous, the good he sees me he is always talking of constancy, but prince only renowned and glorious.

vouchsafes to visit me but once a fortnight, and then Though men may impose upon themselves what is always in haste to be gone. When I am sick, I they please by their corrupt imaginations, truth will hear he says he is mightily concerned, but neither ever keep its station: and as glory is nothing else comes nor sends, because, as he tells his acquaintance but the shadow of virtue, it will certainly disappear with a sigh, he does not care to let me know all the at the departure of virtue. But how carefully ought power I have over him, and how impossible it is for the true notions of it to be preserved, and how in- him to live without me. When he leaves the town, dustrious should we be to encourage any impulses he writes once in six weeks, desires to hear from me, towards it! The Westminster school-boy that said complains of the torment of absence, speaks of flames, the other day he could not sleep or play for the colours tortures, languishings, and ecstasies. He has the in the hall, é ought to be free from receiving a blow cant of an impatient lover, but keeps the pace of a for ever.

lukewarm one. You know I must not go faster than But let us consider what is truly glorious according he does, and to move at this rate is as tedious as to the anthor I have to-day quoted in the front of counting a great clock. But you are to know he is my paper.

rich, and my mother says, as he is slow he is sure; The perfection of glory, says Tully, consists in he will love me long, if he love me little; but I apthese three particulars : " That the people love us; peal to you whether he loves at all. Your neglected that they have confidence in us; that being affected humble servant,

“ Lydia NOYELL. with a certain admiration towards us, they think we “ All these fellows who have money are extremely deserve honour.” This was spoken of greatness in saucy and cold; pray, Sir, tell them of it.” the commonwealth. But if one were to form a consummate glory under our constitution, one must add

“ MR. SPECTATOR, to the above mentioned felicities a certain necessary

“I have been delighted with nothing more through inexistence, and disrelish of all the rest, without the the whole course of your writings, than the substanprince's favour. He should, methinks, have riches, tial account you lately gave of wit, and I could wish power, honour, command, glory; but riches, power, you would take some other opportunity to express honour, command, and glory, should have no charms, further the corrupt taste the age is run into ; which but as accompanied with the affection of his prince. I am chiefly apt to attribute to the prevalency of a He should

, methinks, be popular because a favourite, few popular authors, whose merit in some respects and & favourite because popular. Were it not to has given a sanction to their faults in others. Thus make the character too imaginary, I would give him the imitators of Milton seem to place all the excelSovereignty over some foreign territory, and make lency of that sort of writing either in the

uncouth him esteem that an empty addition without the kind or antique words, or something else which was highly regards of his own prince. One may merely have vicious, though pardonable in that great man. an idea of a man thus composed and circumstan- The admirers of what we call point, or turn, look tiated, and if he were so made for power without an upon it as the particular happiness to which Cowley, incapacityf of giving jealousy, he would be also Ovid, and others, owe their reputation, and therefore glorious without possibility of receiving disgrace. endeavour to imitate them only in such instances. This humility and this importance must make his What is just, proper, and natural, does not seem to glory immortal.

be the question with them, but by what means a These thoughts are apt to draw me beyond the quaint antithesis may be brought about, how one swal length of this paper ; but if I could suppose be the consequence of a forced allusion. Now,

word be made to look two ways, and what will sach rhapsodies could outlive the common fate of ordinary things, I would say these sketches and faint though such authors appear to me to resemble those images of glory were drawn in August, 1711, when who make themselves fine, instead of being wellJohn, Duke of Marlborough, made that memorable dressed, or graceful: yet the mischief is, that these march wherein he took the French lines without beauties in them, which I call blemishes, are thought Woodshed-T.

to proceed from luxuriance of fancy and overflowing

of good sense. In one word, they have the characThe colours taken at Blenheim, in 1704, were fixed up in ter of being too witty; but if you would acquaint Westminster-hall, after having been carried in procession teagh the city. The sense seems to require " without a capacity," but all

• So Philips in his Cyder is careful to mispell the words ho copies read as here.

"urchat, sovran," after Muton, &c.

« SIR,

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the world they are not witty at all, you would, ment of our sex will, I hope, in your own opinica, among others, oblige, Sir,

sufficiently excuse me from making any apology for “ Your most benevolent reader, the impertinence of this letter. The great desire I

“R. D.” have to embellish my mind with some of those graces

which you say are so becoming, and which you as“I am a young woman, and reckoned pretty; sert reading helps us to, bas made me uneasy until therefore

you will pardon me that I trouble you to I am put in a capacity of attaining them. This, decide a wager between me and a cousin of mine, Sir, I shall never think myself in, until you shall be who is always contradicting one because he under- pleased to recommend some author or authors to my stands Latin: pray, Sir, is Dimple spelt with a perusal. single or double p? I am, Sir,

“ I thought indeed, when I first cast my eye on “ Your very humble servant, Leonora's letter, that I should have had no occasion

“ BETTY SAUNTER." for requesting it of you ; but to my very great conPray, Sir, direct thus, “To the kind Querist,' cern, I found on the perusal of that Spectator, I and leave it at Mr. Lillie's, for I do not care to be was entirely disappointed, and am as much at a loss known in the thing at all. I am, Sir, again, your how to make use of my time for that end as ever. humble servant.'

Pray, Sir, oblige me at least with one scene, as you “ MR. SPECTATOR,

were pleased to entertain Leonora with your pro“ I must needs tell you there are several of your but also those of several others of my acquaintance,

logue. I write to you not only my own sentiments, papers I do not much like. You are often so nice who are as little pleased with the ordinary manner there is no enduring you, and so learned there is no of spending one's time as myself: and if a fervent understanding you. What have you to do with our desire after knowledge, and a great sense of our prepetticoats? Your humble servant,


sent ignorance, may be thought a good presage and

earnest of improvement, you may look upon your “ MR. SPECTATOR,

time you shall bestow in answering this request not “ Last night, as I was walking in the Park, I met thrown away to no purpose. And I cannot but add a couple of friends. Proythee, Jack,' says one of that, unless you have a particular and more than orthem, let us go and drink a glass of wine, for I dinary regard for Leonora, I have a better title to ain fit for nothing else. This put me upon reflecting your favour than she : since I do not content myself on the many miscarriages which happen in conver- with a tea-table reading of your papers, but it is my sations over wine, when men go to the bottle to re-entertainment very often when alone in my closet. move such humours as it only stirs up and awakens. To shew I am capable of improvement, and hate This I could not attribute more to any thing than to Aattery, I acknowledge I do not like some of your the humour of putting company upon others which papers; but even there I am readier to call in quesmen do not like themselves. Pray, Sir, declare in tion my own shallow understanding than Mr. Specyour papers, that he who is a troublesome companion tator's profound judgment. to himself, will not be an agreeable one to others. “I am, Sir, your already (and in hopes of being Let people reason themselves into good humour be more your) obliged servant, fore they impose themselves upon their friends.

“ PARTHENIA.” Pray, Sir, be as eloquent as you can upon this subject, and do human life so much good, as to argue rious an air, that I cannot but think it incumbent

This last letter is written with so urgent and sepowerfully, that it is not every one that can swallow who is fit to drink a glass of wine.

upon me to comply with her commands, which I “ Your most humble servant."

shall do very suddenly.-T.

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« SIR,

“I this morning cast my eye upon your paper No. 141.] SATURDAY, AUGUST 11, 1711. concerning the expense of time. You are very

Migravit ab aure voluptas obliging to the women, especially those who are not

Omnis.—Hor. 1 Ep. ii. 187. young and past gallantry, by touching so gently upon gaming : therefore I hope you do not think it

Taste, that eternal wanderer, that flies

From head to ears, and now from ears to eyes.-Porz. wrong to employ a little leisure time in that diversion; but I should be glad to hear you say some- In the present emptiness of the town, I have ser. thing upon the behaviour of some of the female eral applications from the lower part of the players, gamesters.

to admit suffering to pass for acting. They in very " I have observed ladies, who in all other respects obliging terms desire me to let a fall on the ground, are gentle, good-humoured, and the very pinks of a stumble, or a good slap on the back, be reckoned good breeding; who, as soon as the ombre-table is a jest. These gambols I shall tolerate for a season, called for, and sit down to their business, are im- because I hope the evil cannot continue longer than mediately transmigrated into the veriests wasps in until the people of condition and taste return to nature,

town. The method, some time ago, was to enter" You must know I keep my temper, and win tain that part of the audience who have no faculty their money; but am out of countenance to take it, above that of eye-sight with rope-dancers and tum it makes them so very uneasy. Be pleased, dear blers; which was a way discreet enough, because it Sir, to instruct them to lose with a better grace, and prevented confusion and distinguished such as could you will oblige, Yours,

show all the postures which the body is capable of,

RACHEL Basto." from those who were to represent all the passions to “ MR. SPECTATOR,

which the mind is subject. But though this was “Your kindness to Leonora in one of your papers, prudently settled, corporeal and intellectual acters has given me encouragement to do myself

the ho- ought to be kept at a still wider distance than to ap nour of writing to you. The great regard you have pear on the same stage at all; for which reason 1 so often expressed for the instruction and improve-I must propose some methods for the improvement

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Within that circle none durst walk but be.

the bear garden, by dismissing all bodily actors to it is extremely foreign from the affair of comedy that quarter.

Subjects of this kind, which are in themselves disa In cases of greater momect, where men appear in greeable, can at no time become entertaining, but by public, the consequence and importance of the thing passing through an imagination like Shakspeare's ta can bear them out. And though a pleader or form them; for which reason Mr. Dryden would not preacher is hoarse or awkward, the weight of his allow even Beaumont and Fletcher capable of imimatter commands respect and attention; but in tating him. theatrical speaking, if the performer is not exactly

But Shakspeare's magic could not copied be: proper and graceful, he is utterly ridiculous. In cases where there is little else expected but the

" I should not, however, have troubled you with pleasure of the ears and eyes, the least diminu- these remarks, if there were not something else in tion of that pleasure is the highest offence. In this comedy, which wants to be exercised more than acting, barely to perform the part is not commend the witches: I mean the freedom of some passages, able, but to be the least out is contemptible. To which I should have overlooked if I had not observed avoid these difficulties and delicacies, I am informed, that those jests can raise the loudest mirth, thoughe that while I was out of town, the actors have flown they are painful to right sense, and an outrage upon in the air, and played such pranks, and run such modesty. bazards, that none but the servants of the fire-office,

“We must attribute such liberties to the taste of tilers, and masons, could have been able to perform that age: but indeed by such representations a poet the like. The author of the following letter, it sacrifices the best part of his audience to the worst; seems, has been of the audience at one of these en- and, as one would think, neglects the boxes, to write tertainments, and has accordingly complained to me to the orange-wenches. upoa it: but I think he has been to the utmost de

“I must not conclude till I have taken notice of gree severe against what is exceptionable in the play the moral with which this comedy ends. The two he mentions, without dwelling so much as he might young ladies having given a notable example of outhave done on the author's most excellent talent of witting those who had a right in the disposal of them, humour. The pleasant pictures he has drawn of and marrying without the consent of parents-one of life should bave been more kindly mentioned, at the the injured parties, who is easily reconciled, winds same time that he banishes his witches, who are too

up all with this remark, dall devils to be attacked with so niuch warmth.

Design whate'er we will, “MR. SPECTATOR,

There is a fate which over-rules us still." “ Upon a report that Moll White had followed you to town, and was to act a part in the Lancashire

“We are to suppose that the gallants are men of Witches, I went last week to see that play. It was merit, but if they had been rakes, the excuse might my fortune to sit next to a country justice of the have served as well

. Hans Carvel's wife was of the peace, a neighbour (as he said) of Sir Roger's, who same principle, but has expressed it with a delicacy pretended to show her to us in one of the dances, which shows she is not serious in her excuse, but in There was witchcraft enough in the entertainment a sort of humorous philosophy turns off the thought almost to incline me to believe him; Ben Jonsont

of her guilt, and says, was almost lamed: young Bullockt narrowly saved

That if weak women go astray. his neck: the audience was astonished; and an old

Their stars are more in fault than they. acquaintance of mine, a person of worth, whom I “ This no doubt is a full reparation, and dismisses would have bowed to in the pit, at two yards dis- the audience with very edifying impressions. tance, did not know me.

“These things fall under a province you have “ If you were what the country people reported partly pursued already, and therefore demands your you—a white witch–I could have wished you had animadversion, for the regulating so noble an enter. been there to have exercised that rabble of broom- tainment as that of the stage. It were to be wished sticks with which we were haunted for above three that all who write for it hereafter would raise their hours. I could have allowed them to set Clod in the genius, by the ambition of pleasing people of the tree to have scared the sportsmen, plagued the best understanding; and leave others to show justice, and employed honest l'eague with his holy nothing of the human species but risibility, to seek water. This was the proper use of them in comedy, their diversion at the bear-gardens, or some other if the author had stopped here; but I cannot con- privileged place, where reason and good manners ceive what relation the sacrifice of the black lamb, have no right to disturb them. “I am, &c.” and the ceremonies of their worship to the devil,

August 8, 1711.”

T. have to the business of mirth and humour.

“The gentleman who writ this play, and has drawn some ebaracters in it very justly, appears to

No. 142.) MONDAY, AUGUST 13, 1711. have been misled in his witchcraft by an unwary fol- Irrupta tenet copulakrewing the inimitable Shakspeare. The incantations

Whom love's unbroken bond unites. in Macbeth have a solemnity admirably adapted to the necasion of that tragedy, and fill the mind with

The following being genuine, and the images of a mutable horror; besides that the witches are a

a worthy passion, I am willing to give the old lady's part ok the story itself, as we find it very particularly admonition to myself

, and the representation of her related in Hector Boetius, from whom he seems to own happiness, a place in my writings. bare taken it. This therefore is a proper machine


August 9, 1711. where the business is dark, horrid, and bloody; but " I am now in the sixty-seventh year of my age, Alkading to Shadwell's comedy of the Lancashire Witches, do not strike at the root of the greatest evil in life,

and read you with approbation; but methinks you which had been lately acted several times, and was advertised which is the false notion of gallantry in love. It is, for the very night in which this Spectator is dated. + The names of two actors then upon the stage. D. Gereot incidents in the play of the Lancashire Witches.

The concluding distach or Shadwell's play. SPECTATOR-Nos. 21 & 22.


- Hor. 1 Od. xiii. 12.

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and has long been, upon a very ill foot; but I who guage to ladies ; but you have a mind elevated above have been a wife forty years, and was bred up in a the giddy notions of a sex enspared by flattery, and way that has made me ever since very happy, see misled by a false and short adoration into a solid through the folly of it. In a word, Sir, when 1 and lung contempt. Beauty, my fairest creature, was a young woman, all who avoided the vices of the palls in the possession, but I love also your mind age were very carefully educated, and all fantastical your soul is as dear to me as my own, and if the objects were turned ont of our sight. The tapes- advantages of a liberal education, some knowledge, try-hangings, with the great and venerable simpli- and as much contempt of the world, joined with the city of the Scripture stories, had better effects than endeavours towards a life of strict virtue and relinow the loves of Venus and Adonis, or Bacchus and gion, can qualify me to raise new ideas in a breast Ariadne, in your fine present prints. The gentleman so well disposed as yours is, our days will pass away I am married to made love to me in rapture, but it with joy; and old age, instead of introducing melanwas the rapture of a Christian and a man of honour, choly prospects of decay, give us hope of eternal not of a romantic hero or a whining coxcomb. This youth in a better life. I have but few minutes from put our life upon a right basis. To give you an idea the duty of my employment to write in, and without of our regard one to another, I enclose to you seve time to read over what I have writ; therefore beral of his letters, writ forty years ago, when my seech you to pardon the first bints of my mind, whieb lover; and one writ the other day, after so many I have expressed in so little order. years cohabitation. “ Your servant,

“I am, dearest creature, “ ANDROMACHE." “ Your most obedient, most devoted servant." “Madam,

August 7, 1671. “ The two next were written after the day for our

marriage was fixed :“ If my vigilance, and ten thousand wishes for your welfare and repose, could have any force, you

• Madam,

September 25th, 1671. last night slept in security, and had every good an- " It is the hardest thing in the world to be in love, gel in your attendance. To have my thoughts ever and yet attend business. As for me, all that speak fixed on you, to live in constant fear of every acci- to me find me out, and I must lock myself up, or dent to which human life is liable, and to send up other people will do it for me. A gentleman asked my hourly prayers to avert them from you; I say, me this morning, What news from Holland ?' and Madam, thus to think, and thus to suffer, is what I I answered, "She is exquisitely handsome.? Anodo for her who is in pain at my approach, and calls ther desired to know when I had been last at Windall my tender sorrow impertinence. You are now sor; I replied, “She designs to go with me. Prythee, before my eyes, my eyes that are ready to flow with allow me at least to kiss your hand before the ap. tenderness, but cannot give relief to my gushing pointed day, that my mind may be in some composheart, that dictates what I am now saying, and yearns Methinks I could write a volume to you, but to tell you all its achings. How art thou, oh my all the lan ge on earth would fail in saying how soul, stolen from thyself? how is all my attention much, and with what disinterested passion, broken! my books are blank paper, and my friends

“I am ever yours. intruders. I have no hope of quiet but from your pity. To grant it would make more for your tri


September 30, 1671, umph. To give pain is the tyranny, to make happy

seven in the morning. the true empire of beauty. If you would consider “ Next to the influence of heaven, I am to thank aright, you would find an agreeable change in dis. you that I see the returning day with pleasure. To missing the attendance of a slave, to receive the pass my evenings in so sweet a conversation, and complaisance of a companion. I bear the former have the esteem of a woman of your merit, bas in in hopes of the latter condition. As I live in chains it a particularity of happiness no more to be exwithout murmuring at the power which inflicts them, pressed than returned. But I am, my lovely creature, 80 I could enjoy freedom without forgetting the contented to be on the obliged side, and to employ mercy that gave it.

all my days in new endeavours to convince you and I am, Madam,

all the world of the sense I have of your condescen“ Your most devoted, most obedient servant.” sion in choosing, * Though I made him no declarations in his favour,

“ Madam, your most faithful, you see he had hopes of me when he writ this in the

most obedient humble servant."* month following :

“ He was, when he writ the following letter, as “Madam

September 3, 1671. agreeable and pleasant a man as any in England :“ Before the light this morning dawned upon the


October 20, 1671. earth I awaked, and lay in expectation of its return, " I beg pardon that my paper is not finer, but I not that it could give any new sense of joy to me, am forced to write from a coffee-house where I am but as I hoped it would bless you with its cheerful attending about business. There is a dirty crowd of face, after a quiet which I wished you last night. If busy faces all around me talking of money, while all my prayers are heard, the day appeared with all the my ambition, all my wealth, is love: love, which influence of a merciful Creator upon your person animates my heart, sweetens my humour, enlarges and actions. Let others, my lovely charmer, talk my soul, and affects every action of my life. It is of a blind being that disposes their hearts; I con- to my lovely charmer I owe that many noble ideas temn their low images of love. I have not a thought are continually affixed to my words and actions : it which relates to you, that I cannot with confidence is the natural effect of that generous passion to crebeseech the All-seeing Power to bless me in. May ate in the admirers some similitude of the object be direct you in all your steps, and reward your in- admired; thus, my dear, am I every day to improve pocence, your sanctity of manners, your prudent from so sweet a companion. Look up, my fair one, yoath, and becoming piety, with the continuance of his grace and protection. This is an unusual lan

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Richard Steele.

to that heaven which made thee such, and join with served) they who resolve to be merry, seldom are me to implore its influence on our tender innocent so; it will be much more unlikely for us to be wellhours, and beseech the author of love to bless the pleased, if they are admitted who are always comrites be bas ordained, and mingle with our happiness plaining they are sad. Whatever we do, we should a just sense of our transient condition, and a resig- keep up the cheerfulness of our spirits, and never nation to his will, which only can regulate our minds let them sink below an inclination at least to be well to a steady endeavour to please him and each other. pleased. The way to this, is to keep our bodies in

“ I am, for ever, your faithful servant.” exercise, our minds at ease. That insipid state “I will not trouble you with more letters at this wherein neither are in vigour, is not to be accounted time, but if you saw the poor withered hand which any part of our portion of being. When we are in sends you these minutes, I am sure you would smile the satisfaction of some innocent pleasure, or purto think that there is one who is so gallant as to suit of some laudable design, we are in the possession speak of it still as so welcome a present, after forty of life, of human life. Fortune will give us disapyears' possession of the woman whom he writes to.

pointments enough, and nature is attended with in

firmities enough, without our adding to the unhappy “ Madau,

June 23, 1711. side of our account by our spleen or ill-humour. I heartily beg your pardon for my omission to Poor Cottilus, among so many real evils, a chroniwrite yesterday. It was no failure of my tender cal distemper and a narrow fortune, is never heard regard for you; but having been very much per

to complain. That equal spirit of his, which any plexed in my thoughts on the subject of my last, man may have, that, like him, will conquer pride, made me determine to suspend speaking of it until vanity, and affectation, and follow nature, is not to I came myself. But, my lovely creature, know it is be broken, because it has no points to contend for. not in the power of age, or misfortune, or any other To be anxious for nothing but what nature demands accident which hangs over human life, to take from as necessary, if it is not the way to an estate, is the me the pleasing esteem I have for you, or the me- way to what men aim at by getting an estate. This mory of the bright figure you appeared in, when you temper will preserve health in the body, as well as gave your hand and heart to,

tranquillity in the mind. Cottilus sees the world in Madam, your most grateful husband,

a hurry, with the same scorn that a sober person T. and obedient servant."*+

sees a man drunk. Had he been contented with what he ought to have been, how could, says he, such

a one have met with such a disappointment? If anNo. 143.) TUESDAY, AUGUST 14, 1711. other had valued his mistress for what he ought to Non est vivere, sed valere, vita.-MARTIAL, Epig. lxx. 6.

have loved her, he had not been in her power. If For life is only life, when blest with health.

her virtue had had a part of his passion, her levity It is an unreasonable thing some men expect of had been his cure; she could not then have been their acquaintance. They are ever complaining that

false and amiable at the same time. they are out of order, or displeased, or they know let us endeavour at such a temper as may be our

Since we cannot promise ourselves constant health, not how, and are so far from setting that be a reason for retiring to their own homes, that they make it best support in the decay of it. Uranius nas arrived their argument for coming into company. What has at that composure of soul, and wrought himself up any body to do with accounts of a man's being indis- to such a neglect of every thing with which the geposed, but his physician ? If a man laments in com

nerality of mankind is enchanted, that nothing but pany, where the rest are in humour enough to enjoy those too he will tell his intimate friends he has a

acute pains can give him disturbance, and against themselves, he should not take it ill if a servant is ordered to present him with a porringer of caudle or

secret which gives him present ease.

Uranius is so to bed. That part of life which we ordinarily un- looks upon pain but as a quickening of his

pace to a posset-drink, by way of admonition that he go home thoroughly persuaded of another life, and endea

vours so sincerely to secure an interest in it, that he derstand by the word conversation, is an indulgence to the sociable part of our make; and should incline home, where he shall be better provided for than in us to bring our proportion of good-will or good-hu-| his present apartment. Instead of the melancholy mour among the friends we meet with, and not to will tell you that he has forgot he is mortal, nor will

views which others are apt to give themselves, he trouble them with relations which must of necessity he think of himself as such. He thinks at the time oblige them to a real or feigned affliction. Cares, of his birth he entered into an eternal being; and distresses, diseases, uneasinesses, and dislikes of our ow, are by no means to be obtruded upon our the short article of death he will not allow an interfriends

. If we would consider how little of this vi- ruption of life ; since that moment is not of half the cissitude of motion and rest, which we call life

, is duration as his ordinary sleep: Thus is his being spent with satisfaction, we should be more tender of one uniform and consistent series of cheerful diver. our friends than to bring them little sorrows

which sions and moderate cares, without fear or hope of fudo not belong to them. There is no real life but turity. Health to him is more than pleasure to cheerful life; therefore valetudinarians should be another man, and sickness less affecting to him than sworn, before they enter into company, not to say a

indisposition is to others. word of themselves until the meeting breaks up. It

I must confess, if one does not regard life after is not here pretended that we should be always sit. this manner, none but idiots can pass it away with ting with chaplets of flowers round our heads, or be any tolerable patience. Take a fine lady who is of crowned with roses in order to make our entertain a delicate frame, and you may observe, from the ment agreeable to us; but if (as it is usually ob-hour she rises

, a certain weariness of all that passes about her. I know more than one who is much too

nice to be quite alive. They are sick of such strange The letters in this No. 142, are all gemuine, written origin: frightful people they meet; one is so awkward, and alty by Steele, and actually sent, with but little variation, to M. Scurlock, afterward Lady Steele. See Steele's Letters, another so disagreeable, that it looks like a penance Telip Il et seq. cr. 8vo. 1781, 2 vols.

to breathe the same air with them. You see this is

• Richard Steele.

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