Wales, which is named Penmainmaure, and you humour is far from making a man unhappy, though must also know, it is no great journey on foot from it may subject him to raillery; for he generally me; but the road is stony and bad for shoes. Now, falls in with a person who seems to be born for him, there is upon the forehead of this mountain a very which is your talkative fellow. It is so ordered, high rock (like a parish steeple), that cometh a that there is a secret bent, as natural as the meeting huge deal over the sea; so when I am in my me- of different sexes, in these two characters, to sup lancholies, and I do throw myself from it, I do de-ply each other's wants. I had the honour the other sire my fery good friend to tell me in his Spictatur, day to sit in a public room, and saw an inquisitive if I shall be cure of my griefous lofes; for there is man look with an air of satisfaction upon the apthe sea clear as glass, and as creen as a leek. proach of one of these talkers. The man of ready Then likewise if I be drown and preak my neck, if utterance sat down by him, and rubbing his head, Mrs. Gwinifrid will not lofe me afterward. Pray leaning on his arm, and making an uneasy countebe speedy in your answers, for I am in crete haste, nance, he began: "There is no manner of news and it is my tesires to do my pusiness without loss to-day. I cannot tell what is the matter with me, of time. I remain with cordial affections, your ever but I slept very ill last night; whether I caught lofing friend, cold or no, I know not, but I fancy I do not wear shoes thick enough for the weather, and I have coughed all this week. It must be so, for the cuscold water, prevents any injury from the season tom of washing my head winter and summer with entering that way; so it must come in at my feet; but I take no notice of it: as it comes so it goes. Most of our evils proceed from too much tenderness; and our faces are naturally as little able to resist the cold as other parts. The Indian answered very well to an European, who asked him how he could go naked; I am all face.""

“DAVYTH AP SHENKYN.

"P. S. My law-suits have brought me to London, but I have lost my causes; and so have made my resolutions to go down and leap before the frosts begin; for I am apt to take colds."

Ridicule, perhaps, is a better expedient against love than sober advice, and I am of opinion that Hudibras and Don Quixote may be as effectual to cure the extravagances of this passion, as any of the old philosophers, I shall therefore publish very speedily the translation of a little Greek manuscript, I observed this discourse was as welcome to my which is sent me by a learned friend. It appears general inquirer as any other of more consequence to have been a piece of those records which were could have been; but somebody calling our talker kept in the little temple of Apollo, that stood upon to another part of the room, the inquirer told the the promontory of Leucate. The reader will find it next man who sat by him, that Mr. Such-a-one, to be a summary account of several persons who who was just gone from him, used to wash his head tried the lover's leap, and of the success they found in cold water every morning; and so repeated almost in it. As there seem to be in it some anachronisms, verbatim all that had been said to him. The truth and deviations from the ancient orthography, I am is, the inquisitive are the funnels of conversation; not wholly satisfied myself that it is authentic, and they do not take in any thing for their own use, not rather the production of one of those Grecian but merely to pass it to another. They are the sophisters, who have imposed upon the world seve-channels through which all the good and evil that ral spurious works of this nature. I speak this by is spoken in town are conveyed. Such as are way of precaution, because I know there are several writers of uncommon erudition, who would not fail to expose my ignorance, if they caught me tripping in a matter of so great moment.-C.

No. 228.] WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1711.
Percunctatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est.
HOR. 1 Ep. xviii. 69.

Th' inquisitive will blab: from such refrain:
Their leaky ears no secret can retain.-SHARD.
THERE is a creature who has all the organs of
speech, a tolerably good capacity for conceiving
what is said to it, together with a pretty proper be-
haviour in all the occurrences of common life; but
naturally very vacant of thought in itself, and there-
fore forced to apply itself to foreign assistances.
Of this make is that man who is very inquisitive.
You may often observe, that though he speaks as
good sense as any man upon any thing with which
he is well acquainted, he cannot trust to the range
of his own fancy to entertain himself upon that
foundation, but goes on still to new inquiries. Thus,
though you know he is fit for the most polite con-
versation, you shall see him very well contented to
sit by a jockey, giving an account of the many re-
volations in his horse's health, what potion he made
him take, how that agreed with him, how afterward
be came to his stomach and his exercise, or any the
like impertinence; and be as well pleased as if you
talked to him on the most important truths. This

offended at them, or think they suffer by their behaviour, may themselves mend that inconvenience, for they are not a malicious people, and if you will supply them, you may contradict any thing they have said before by their own mouths. A further account of a thing is one of the gratefullest goods that can arrive to them; and it is seldom that they are more particular than to say, "The town will have it, or I have it from a good hand;" so that there is room for the town to know the matter more particularly, and for a better hand to contradict what was said by a good one.

I have not known this humour more ridiculous than in a father, who has been earnestly solicitous to have an account how his son has passed his leisure hours; if it be in a way thoroughly insignificant, there cannot be a greater joy than an inquirer discovers in seeing him follow so hopefully his own steps. But this humour among men is most pleasant when they are saying something which is not wholly proper for a third person to hear, and yet is in itself indifferent. The other day there came in a well-dressed young fellow, and two gentlemen of this species immediately fell a whispering his pedigree. I could overhear by breaks," She was his aunt;" then an answer, "Aye, she was, of the mother's side;" then again, in a little lower voice, "His father wore generally a darker wig;" answer, " Not much, but this gentleman wears higher heels to his shoes."

As the inquisitive, in my opinion, are such merely from a vacancy in their own imaginations, there is

nothing, methinks, so dangerous as to communicate you, since as you are silent yourself, you are most secrets to them; for the same temper of inquiry open to the insults of the noisy. makes them as impertinently communicative; but no man, though he converses with them, need put himself in their power, for they will be contented with matters of less moment as well. When there is fuel enough, no matter what it is.Thus the ends of sentences in the newspapers, as "This - wants confirmation,”,"-" This occasions many speculations," and "Time will discover the event," are read by them, and considered not as mere expletives.

so peculiar to the Sapphic ode. I cannot ima- different from those which Sappho here describes in gine for what reason Madam Dacier has told us, a lover sitting by his mistress. The story of Antiothat this ode of Sappho is preserved entire in Lon-chus is so well known, that I need not add the sequel ginus, since it is manifest to any one who looks of it, which has no relation to my present subject.-C. into that anthor's quotation of it, that there must

servile manner of education now in use, have given amusements, we could hope to see the early dawnbirth to an ambition, which, unless you discounte-ings of their imagination daily brighten into sense, nance it, will, I doubt, engage me in a very difficult, their innocence improve into virtue, and their unthough not ungrateful adventure. I am about to un- experienced good nature directed to a generous dertake, for the sake of the British youth, to instruct love of their country. ** I am," &e. them in such a manner, that the most dangerous page in Virgil or Homer may be read by them with much pleasure, and with perfect safety to their persons.

writers.

T.

No. 231.]. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1711.
O pudor! O pietas !MART. viii. 78.

O modesty! O piety!

LOOKING over the letters which I have lately received from my correspondents, I met with the following one, which is written with such a spirit of politeness, that I could not but be very much pleased with it myself, and question not but it will be as acceptable to the reader.

"MR. SPECTATOR,

"You, who are no stranger to public assemblies, cannot but have observed the awe they often strike on such as are obliged to exert any talent before them. This is a sort of elegant distress, to which ingenuous minds are the most liable, and may therefore deserve some remarks in your paper. Many a brave fellow, who has put his enemy to flight in the field, has been in the utmost disorder upon making a speech before a body of his friends at home. One would think there was some kind of fascination in the eyes of a large circle of people, when darting all together upon one person. I have seen a new actor in a tragedy so bound up by it as to be scarce able to speak or move, and have expected he would have died above three acts before the dagger or cup of poison were brought in. It would not be amiss, if such a one were at first introduced as a ghost or statue, until he recovered his spirits, and grew fit for some living part.

"Could I prevail so far as to be honoured with the protection of some few of them (for I am not hero enough to rescue many), my design is to retire with them to an agreeable solitude, though within the neighbourhood of a city, for the convenience of their being instructed in music, dancing, drawing, designing, or any other such accomplishments, which it is conceived may make as proper diversions for them, and almost as pleasant, as the little sordid games which dirty school-boys are so much delighted with. It may easily be imagined, how such a pretty society, conversing with none beneath themselves, and sometimes admitted, as perhaps not unentertaining parties, among better company, commended and caressed for their little performances, and turned by such conversations to a certain gallantry of soul, might be brought early acquainted with some of the most polite English This having given them some tolerable taste of books, they would make themselves masters of the Latin tongue by methods far easier than those in Lilly, with as little difficulty or reluctance as young ladies learn to speak French, or to sing Italian operas. When they had advanced thus far it would be time to form their taste something more exactly. One that had any true relish for fine writing, might with great pleasure both to himself and them, run over together with them the best Roman historians, poets, and orators, and point out their more remarkable beauties; give them a short scheme of chronology, a little view of geography, medals, astronomy, or what else might best feed the busy inquisitive humour so natural to that age. Such of them as had the least spark of genius, when it was once awakened by the shining thoughts and great sentiments of those admired writers, could not, I believe, be easily withheld from attempting that more difficult sister language, whose exalted beauties they would have heard so often celebrated as the pride and wonder of the whole learned world. In the mean while, it would be requisite to exercise their style in writing any little pieces that ask more of fancy than of judgment: and that frequently in their native language; which every one methinks should be most concerned to cultivate, especially letters, in which a gentleman must have so frequent occasions to distinguish himself. A set of genteel good-natured youths fallen into such a manner of life, would form almost a little academy, and doubtless prove no such contemptible companions, as might not often tempt a wiser man to mingle himself in their diversions, and draw them into such erious sports as might prove nothing less instructing than the gravest lessous. I doubt not but it might be made some of their favourite plays, to contend which of them should recite a beautiful part of a poem or oration most gracefully, or sometimes to join in acting a scene in Terence, Sophocles, or our own Shakspeare. The cause of Milo might again be pleaded before more favourable judges, Cæsar a second time be taught to tremble, and another race of Athenians be afresh enraged at the Mrs. Barbier. See a curious account of this lady, in Sir ambition of another Philip. Amidst these noble John Hawkins's History of Music, vol. v. p. 156.

"As this sudden desertion of one's self shows a diffidence, which is not displeasing, it implies at the same time the greatest respect to an audience that can be. It is a sort of mute eloquence, which pleads for their favour much better than words could do; and we find their generosity naturally moved to support those who are in so much perplexity to entertain them. I was extremely pleased with a late instance of this kind at the opera of Almahide, in the encouragement given to a young singer," whose more than ordinary concern on her first appearance, recommended her no less than her agreeable voice and just performance. Mere bashfulness without merit is awkward; and merit without modesty insolent. But modest merit has a double claim to acceptance, and generally meets with as many patrons as beholders.

"I am," &c.

It is impossible that a person should exert himself to advantage in an assembly, whether it be his part either to sing or speak, who lies under too great oppressions of modesty. I remember, upon talking with a friend of mine concerning the force of pronunciation, our discourse led us into the enumeration of the several organs of speech which an orator ought to have in perfection, as the tongue, the teeth, the lips, the nose, the palate, and the wind-pipe: Upon which, says my friend, "You have omitted

the most material organ of them all, and that is the forehead." god,

But notwithstanding an excess of modesty obstructs the tongue and renders it unfit for its offices, a due proportion of it is thought so requisite to an orator, that rhetoricians have recommended it to their disciples as a particular in their art. Cicero tells us that he never liked an orator who did not appear in some little confusion at the beginning of his speech, and confesses that he himself never entered upou an oration without trembling and concern. It is indeed a kind of deference which is due to a great assembly, and seldom fails to raise a benevolence in the audience towards the person who speaks. My correspondent has taken notice that the bravest men often appear timorous on these oc casions, as indeed we may observe, that there is generally no creature more impudent than a coward: -Lingua melior, sed frigida bello

Dextera

VIRG. Æn. xi. 338.

-Bold at the council-board;

But cautious in the field he shunn'd the sword.

DRYDEN.

Seneca thought modesty so great a check to vice, that he prescribes to us the practice of it in secret, and advises us to raise it in onrselves upon imaginary occasions, when such as are real do not offer themselves; for this is the meaning of his precept, That when we are by ourselves, and in our greatest solitudes, we should fancy that Cato stands before us and sees every thing we do. In short, if you banish modesty out of the world, she carries away with her half the virtue that is in it.

After these reflections on modesty, as it is a virtue; I must observe, that there is a vicious modesty which justly deserves to be ridiculed, and which those persons very often discover who value themselves most upon a well-bred confidence. This happens when a man is ashamed to act up to his reason, and would not upon any consideration be surprised at the practice of those duties, for the performance of which he was sent into the world. Many an impudent libertine would blush to be caught in a serious discourse, and would scarce be able to show his head after having disclosed a religious thought. Decency of behaviour, all outward show of virtue, and abhorrence of vice, are carefully avoided by this set of shame-faced people, as what would disparage their gaiety of temper, and infallibly bring them to dishonour. This is such a poorness of spirit, such a despicable cowardice, such a degene. rate abject state of mind, as one would think human A just and reasonable modesty does not only re-nature incapable of, did we not meet with frequent commend eloquence, but sets off every great talent instances of it in ordinary conversation. which a man can be possessed of. It heightens all the virtues which it accompanies; like the shades in paintings, it raises and rounds every figure, and makes the colours more beautiful, though not so glaring as they would be without it.

A bold tongue and a feeble arm are the qualifications of Drances in Virgil; as Homer, to express a man both timorous and saucy, makes use of a kind of point, which is very rarely to be met with in his writings, namely, that he had the eyes of a dog, but the heart of a deer.*

... Modesty is not only an ornament, but also a guard to virtue. It is a kind of quick and delicate feeling in the soul which makes her shrink and withdraw herself from every thing that has danger in it. It is such an exquisite sensibility, as warns her to shun the first appearance of every thing which is hurtful.

I cannot at present recollect either the place or time of what I am going to mention; but I have read somewhere in the history of ancient Greece, that the women of the country were seized with an unaccountable melancholy, which disposed several of them to make away with themselves. The senate, after having tried many expedients to prevent this self-murder, which was so frequent among them, published an edict, that if any woman whatever should lay violent hands upon herself, her corpse should be exposed naked in the street, and dragged about the city in the most public manner. This ediet immediately put a stop to the practice which was before so common. We may see in this instance the strength of female modesty which was able to overcome even the violence of madness and despair, -The fear of shame in the fair sex was in those days more prevalent than that of death.

-If modesty has so great an influence over our actions, and is in many cases so impregnable a fence cdo virtue; what can more undermine morality than that politeness which reigns among the unthinking part of mankind, and treats as unfashionable the most ingenuous part of our behaviour; which recommends impudence as good-breeding, and keeps a man always in countenance, not because he is innocent, but because he is shameless?

Iliad, 1, 225.

There is another kind of vicious modesty which makes a man ashamed of his person, his birth, his profession, his poverty, or the like misfortunes, which it was not in his choice to prevent, and is not in his power to rectify. If a man appears ridiculous by any of the afore-mentioned circumstances, he becomes much more so by being out of countenance for them. They should rather give him occasion to exert a noble spirit, and to palliate those imperfections which are not in his power, by those perfections which are; or to use a very witty allusion of an eminent author, he should imitate Cæsar, who, because his head was bald, covered that de fect with laurels.-C.

No. 232.] MONDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 1711.
Nihil largiundo gloriam adeptus est.-SALLUST, Bel Cat.
By bestowing nothing he acquired glory.

My wise and good friend, Sir Andrew Freeport, divides himself almost equally between the town and the country. His time in town is given up to the public, and the management of his private fortune; and after every three or four days spent in this manner, he retires for as many to his seat within a few miles of the town, to the enjoyment of himself, his family, and his friend. Thus business and pleasure, or rather, in Sir Andrew, labour and rest, recommend each other. They take their turns with so quick a vicissitude, that neither becomes a habit, or takes possession of the whole man; nor is it possible he should be surfeited with either. I often see him at our club in good humour, and yet sometimes too with an air of care in his looks; but in his country retreat he is always unbent, and such a companion as I could desire; and therefore I seldom fail to make one with him when he is pleased to invite me.

The other day, as soon as we were got into his chariot, two or three beggars on each side ng