his renown do but thew their pain and impatience of its brightness, without throwing the least shade upon it. If the foundation of an high name be virtue and service, all that is offered against it is but rumour, which is too short-lived to stand up in competition with glory, which is everlasting. Reputation, which is the portion of every man who would live with the elegant and knowing part of mankind, is as stable as glory, if it be as well founded; and the common cause of human fociety is thought concerned when we hear a man of good behaviour calumniated: befides which, according to a prevailing custom amongst us, every man has his defence in his own arm: and reproach is foon checked, put out of countenance, and overtaken by disgrace. The most unhappy of all men, and the most exposed to the malignity and wantonness of the common voice, is the trader. Credit is undone in whispers. The tradesman's wound is received from one who is more private and more cruel than the ruffian with the lanthorn and dagger. The manner of repeating a man's name,-As; "Mr. Cash, Oh! do you leave your money at "his shop? Why, do you know Mr. Searoom? "He is indeed a general merchant." I say, I have seen, from the iteration of a man's name, hiding one thought of him, and explaining what you hide, by saying something to his advantage when you speak, a merchant hurt in his credit; and him who every day he lived, literally added to the value of his native country, undone by one who was only a burden and a blemish to it. Since every body who knows the world is senfible of this great evil, how careful ought to be in his language of a merchant? It may poffibly be in the power of a very shallow creature to lay the ruin of the best family in the most opulent city; and the more so, the more highly he deferves of his country; that is to say, the farther he places his wealth out of his hands, to draw home that of another climate. a man In this cafe an ill word may change plenty into want, and by a rash sentence a free and generous fortune may in a few days be reduced to beggary How little does a giddy prater imagine, that an idle phrafe to the disfavour of a merchant may be as pernicious in the consequence, as the forgery of a deed to bar an inheritance would be to a gentleman? Land stands where it did before a gentleman was calumniated, and the state of a great action is just as it was before calumny was offered to diminish it, there is time, place and occafion, expected to unravel all that is contrived against those characters; but the trader who is ready only for probable demands upon him, can have no armour against the inquifitive, the malicious, and the envious, who are prepared to fill the cry to his dishonour. Fire and fword are flow engines of destruction, in com. parison of the babbler in the cafe of the mer chant. For this reason I thought it an imitable piece of humanity of a gentleman of my acquaintance, who had great variety of affairs, and used to talk with warmth enough against gentlemen by whom he thought himself ill dealt with; but he would never let any thing be urged against a merchant, with whom he had any difference, except in a court of justice. He used to say, that to speak ill of a merchant, was to begin his fuit with judgment and execution. One cannot, I T HERE are but few men who are not ambitious of diftinguishing themselves in the nation or country where they live, and of growing confiderable among those with whom they converse. There is a kind of grandeur and respect, which the meanest and most infignificant part of mankind endeavour to procure in the little circle of their friends and acquaintance. The poorest mechanic, nay, the man who lives upon common alms, gets him his set of admirers, and delights in that fuperiority which he enjoys over those who are in some respects beneath him. This ambition, which is natural to the foul of man, might methinks receive a very happy turn; and, if it were rightly directed, contribute much to a person's advantage, as it generally does to his uneasiness and disquiet. as I shall therefore put together some thoughts on this subject, which I have not met with in other writers; and shall set them down as they have occurred to me, without being at the pains to connect or methodise them. All fuperiority and pre-eminence that one man can have over another, may be reduced to the notion of quality, which, confidered at large, is either that of fortune, body, or mind. The first is that which consists in birth, title, or riches; and is the most foreign to our natures, and what we can the least call our own of any of the three kinds of quality. In relation to the body, quality arises from health, strength, or beauty; which are nearer to us, and more a part of ourselves than the former. Quality, as it regards the mind, has its rise from knowledge or virtue; and is that which is more effsential to us, and more intimately united with us than either of the other two. The quality of fortune, though a man has less reason to value himself upon it than on that of the body or mind, is however the kind of quality which makes the most shining figure in the eye of the world. As virtue is the most reasonable and genuine fource of honour, we generally find in titles an intimation of some particular merit that should recommend men to the high stations which they poffefs. Holiness is ascribed to the pope; majesty to kings; serenity or mildness of temper to princes; excellence or perfection to ambassadors; grace to archbishops; honour to peers; worship or venerable behaviour to magistrates; and reverence, which is of the fame import as the former, to the inferior clergy. In the founders of great families, such attributes of honour are generally correspondent with the virtues of the person to whom they are applied; but in the descendents they are too often the marks rather of grandeur than of merit. The stamp stamp and denomination still continues, but the intrinfic value is frequently loft. The death-bed shews the emptiness of titles in a true light. A poor dispirited finner lies trembling under the apprehenfions of the state he is entering on; and is asked by a grave attendant how his holiness does? Another hears himself addressed to under the title of highness or excellency, who lies under fuch mean circumstances of mortality, as are the disgrace of human nature. Titles at fuch a time look rather like infults and mockery than respect. The truth of it is, honours are in this world under no regulation; true quality is neglected, virtue is oppressed, and vice triumphant. The last day will rectify this disorder, and affign to every one a station suitable to the dignity of his character; ranks will be then adjusted, and precedency fet right. Methinks we should have an ambition, if not to advance ourselves in another world, at least to preserve our post in it, and outshine our inferiors in virtue here, that they may not be put above us in a state which is to fettle the distinction for eternity. Men in scripture are called "strangers and fo" journers upon earth," and life a "pilgrimage," Several heathen, as well as christian authors, under the fame kind of metaphor, have represented the world as an inn, which was only designed to furnish us with accommodations in this our passage. It is therefore very absurd to think of setting up our rest before we come to our journey's end, and not rather to take care of the reception we shall there meet, than to fix our thoughts on the little conveniencies and advantages which we enjoy one above another in the way to it. Épictetus makes use of another kind of allufion, which is very beautiful, and wonderfully proper to incline us to be fatisfied with the post in which Providence has placed us. We are here, says he, as in a theatre, where every one has a part allotted to him. The great duty which lies upon a man is to act his part in perfection. We may indeed say, that our part does not fuit us, and that we could ast another better. But this, says the philosopher, is not our business. All that we are concerned in is to excel in the part which is given us. If it be an improper one, the fault is not in us, but in him who has cast our feveral parts, and is the great disposer of the drama. The part that was acted by this philofopher himself was but a very indifferent one, for he lived and died a flave. His motive to contentment in this particular, receives a very great enforcement from the above-mentioned confideration, if we remember that our parts in the other world will be new cast, and that mankind will be there ranged in different stations of fuperiority and pre-eminence, in proportion as they have here excelled one another in virtue, and performed in their several posts of life the duties which belong to them. great surprise which it will produce among those who are his fuperiors in this. Then shall the ' righteous man stand in great boldness before 'the face of fuch as have afflicted him, and 'made no account of his labours. When they 'see it, they shall be troubled with terrible fear, ' and shall be amazed at the strangeness of his 'salvation, so far beyond all that they looked 'for. And they repenting and groaning for an'guish of spirit, shall say within themselves; 'this was he whom we had fome time in derision, ' and a proverb of reproach. We fools account'ed his life madness, and his end to be without 'honour. How is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the 'faints!' If the reader would fee the description of a life that is passed away in vanity, and among the shadows of pomp and greatness, he may fee it very finely drawn in the fame place. In the mean time, since it is necessary in the present constitution of things, that order and distinction should be kept in the world, we should be happy, if those who enjoy the upper stations in it, would endeavour to furpass others in virtue, as much as in rank, and by their humanity and condescension make their fuperiority easy and accept able to those who are beneath them; and if, on the contrary, those who are in meaner posts of life, would confider how they may better their condition hereafter, and by a just deference and fubmiffion to their fuperiors, make them happy in those bleffings with which Providence thought fit to diftinguish them. C No 220. MONDAY, Nov. 12. Rumoresque ferit varios- Virg. Æn. 12. V. 228. A thousand rumours fpreads. ، W 1 SIR, HY will you apply to my father for my love? I cannot help it if he will give you my perfon; but I affure you it is not in 'his power, nor even in my own, to give you my heart. Dear Sir, do but consider the illconsequence of such a match; you are fifty'five, I twenty-one. You are a man of bufiness, and mightily conversant in arithmetic ' and making calculations; be pleased therefore ' to confider what proportion your spirits bear ' to mine, and when you have made a just efti'mate of the necessary decay on one fide, and the redundance on the other, you will act accordingly. This perhaps is such language as you may not expect from a young lady; but < my happiness is at stake, and I must talk plainly. I mortally hate you; and so, as you and 'my father agree, you may take me or leave me: but if you will be so good as never to see ' me more, you will for ever oblige, 'SIR, Your most humble servant, • Mr. Spectator, T HENRIETTA" HERE are fo many artifices and modes of false wit, and fuch a variety of humour discovers itself among its votaries, that it ⚫ would be impoffible to exhauft so fertile a There are many beautiful passages in the little apocryphal book, entitled, "The Wisdom of "Solomon," to set forth the vanity of honour, and the like temporal blessings which are in fo great repute among men, and to comfort those who have not the posseffion of them. It represents in very warm and noble terms this advance-subject, if you would think fit to refume it. ment of a good man in the other warld, and the The following instances may, if you think fit Nn2 be ⚫ be added by way of appendix to your discourses on that subject. That feat of poetical activity mentioned by Horace, of an author who could compose two • hundred verses while he stood upon one leg, has been imitated, as I have heard, by a modern writer; who priding himself on the hurry of his invention, thought it no small addition to his fame to have each piece minuted with, the exact number of hours or days it cost him in the composition. He could taste no praise until he had acquainted you in how fhort space of time he had deserved it; and was not fo much led to an oftentation of his art, as of his • dispatch. Accipe, li vis, Accipiam tabulas; detur nobis locus, bora, Cuftodes: videamus uter plus fcribere poffit. Hor. Sat. 4. lib. 1. ver. 14. Here's pen and ink, and time, and place; let's try, Who can write most, and fastest, you or I. CREECH. This was the whole of his ambition; and therefore I cannot but think the flights of this rapid author very proper to be opposed to those laborious nothings which you have obferved were the delight of the German wits, and in which they so happily got rid of fuch a • tedious quantity of their time. • I have known a gentleman of another turn of humour, who, despising the name of an author, never printed his works, but contradicted his talent, and by the help of a very fine diamond which he wore on his little finger, was ⚫ a confiderable poet upon glass. He had a very • good epigrammatic wit; and there was not a parlour or tavern-window where he visited or dined for some years, which did not receive • some sketches or memorials of it. It was his • misfortune at last to lose his genius and his ring to a sharper at play, and he has not attempted to make a verse since. But of all contractions or expedients for * wit, I admire that of an ingenious projector whose book I have seen. This virtuofo being ⚫ a mathematician, has, according to his taste, ⚫ thrown the art of poetry into a short problem, ⚫ and contrived tables by which any one with• out knowing a word of grammar or sense, may, to his great comfort, be able to compose, or rather to erect Latin verses. His tables are a ⚫ kind of poetical logarithms, which being divided into feveral squares, and all inscribed with fo many incoherent words, appear to the eye fomewhat like a fortune-telling screen. • What a joy must it be to the unlearned opera* tor to find that these words being carefully collected and writ down in order according to • the problem, start of themselves into hexameter ⚫ and pentameter verfes? A friend of mine, who ⚫ is a student in aftrology, meeting with this • book, performed the operation, by the rules there set down; he shewed his verses to the next of his acquaintance, who happened to understand Latin; and being informed they de< scribed a tempeft of wind, very luckily prefixed them, together with a tranflation, to an almanac he was just then printing, and was • fuppofed to have foretold the last great ftorm. I think the only improvement beyond this, would be that which the late duke of Buck ingham mentioned to a stupid pretender to poetry, as the project of a Dutch mechanic, 'viz. a mill to make verses. This being the most compendious method of all which have yet been proposed, may deserve the thoughts of ' our modern virtuosi who are employed in new discoveries for the public good: and it may be worth the while to confider, whether in an ifland where few are content without being thought wits, it will not be a common benefit, that wit as well as labour should be made cheap. I I am, Sir, Mr. Spectator, Your humble servant, &c. Often dine at a gentleman's house, where there are two young ladies, in themselves ، very agreeable, but very cold in their behaviour, because they understand me for a person that is to break my mind, as the phrase is, very fuddenly to one of them. But I take this way to 'acquaint them, that I am not in love with ei. ther of them, in hopes they will use me with that agreeable freedom and indifference which they do all the rest of the world, and not to ⚫ drink to one another only, but sometimes cast a kind look, with their service to, SIR, 'Mr. Spectator, I Your humble servant." Ama young gentleman, and take it for a piece of good-breeding to pull off my hat when I fee any thing peculiarly charming in ' any woman, whether I know her or not. I ' take care that there is nothing ludicrous or 'arch in my manner, as if I were to betray a woman into a falutation by way of jeft or hu mour; and except I am acquainted with her, I find the ever takes it for a rule, that she is to look upon this civility and homage I pay to her < supposed merit, as an impertinence or forwardness which she is to observe and neglect. I with, Sir, you would fettle the business of falu'tation; and please to inform me how I shall ' refift the fudden impulse I have to be civil to ' what gives an idea of merit; or tell these crea 'tures how to behave themselves in return to the esteem I have for them. My affairs are such, that your decision will be a favour to me, if it 'be only to fave the unneceffary expence of wearing out my hat so fast as I do at present. I am. • Sir, • Your's, 'D. T.' is what gives birth to the motto of a speculation, which I rather choose to take out of the poets than the profe-writers, as the former generally give a finer turn to a thought than the latter, and by couching it in few words, and in harmonious numbers, make it more portable to the memory. My reader is therefore fure to meet with at least one good line in every paper, and very often finds his imagination entertained by a hint that awakens in his memory fome beautiful passage of a classic author. It was a faying of an ancient philosopher, which I find some of our writers have ascribed to queen Elizabeth, who perhaps might have taken occafion to repeat it, "that a good face " is a letter of recommendation." It naturally makes the beholders inquisitive into the person who is the owner of it, and generally prepossesses them in his favour. A handsome motto has the same effect. Besides that it always gives a fupernumerary beauty to a paper, and is sometimes in a manner necessary when the writer is engaged in what may appear a paradox to vulgar minds, as it shews that he is supported by good authorities, and is not fingular in his opinion. I must confefs, the motto is of little use to an unlearned reader, for which reason I confider it only as " a word to the wife." But as for my unlearned friends, if they cannot relish the motto, I take care to make provision for them in the body of my paper. If they do not understand the fign that is hung out, they know very well by it, that they may meet with entertainment in the house; and I think I was never better pleased than with a plain man's compliment, who, upon his friend's telling him that he would like the Spectator much better if he understood the motto, replied, " that good wine needs no " bush." I have heard of a couple of preachers in a country town, who endeavoured which should outshine one another, and draw together the greatest congregation. One of them being well versed in the fathers, used to quote every now and then a Latin sentence to his illiterate hearers, who it seems found themselves so edified by it, that they flocked in greater numbers to this learned man than to his rival. The other finding his congregation mouldering every Sunday, and hearing at length what was the occafion of it, refolved to give his parish a little Latin in his turn: but being unacquainted with any of the fathers, he digested into his sermons the whole book of Qua Genus, adding however such explications to it as he thought might be for the benefit of his people. He afterwards entered upon As in præfenti, which he converted in the fame manner to the use of his parishoners. This in a very little time thickened his audience, filled his church, and routed his antagonist. The natural love to Latin, which is so prevalent in our common people, makes me think that my speculations fare never the worse among them from that little scrap which appears at the head of them; and what the more encourages me in the use of quotations in an unknown tongue, is, that I hear the ladies, whose approbation I value more than that of the whole learned world, declare themselves in a more particular manner pleased with my Greek mottos. Designing this day's work for a differtation upon the two extremities of my paper, and having already dispatched my motto, I shall, in the next place, discourse upon those single capital letters, which are placed at the end of it, and which have afforded great matter of speculation to the curious. I have heard various conjectures upon this subject. Some tell us that C is the mark of those papers that are written by the clergyman, though others ascribe them to the club in general: that the papers marked with R were written by my friend Sir Roger: that Lfignifies the lawyer, whom I have described in my second speculation; and that T stands for the trader or merchant: but the letter X, which is placed at the end of some few of my papers, is that which has puzzled the whole town, as they cannot think of any name which begins with that letter, except Xenophon and Xerxes, who can neither of them be supposed to have had any hand in these speculations. In answer to these inquisitive gentlemen, who have many of them made inquiries of me by letter, I must tell them the reply of an ancient philosopher, who carried something hidden under his cloke. A certain acquaintance defiring him to let him know what it was he covered fo carefully, " 1 cover it," says he, " on purpose that you should not know." I have made use of these obscure marks for the fame purpose. They are, perhaps, little amulets or charms to preserve the paper against the fascination and malice of evil eyes; for which reason I would not have my reader surprized, if hereafter he fees any of my papers marked with a Q, a Z, a Y, an &c. or with the word Abracadabra. I shall, however, so far explain myself to the reader, as to let him know that the letters C, L, and X, are cabalistical, and carry more in them than it is proper for the world to be acquainted with. Those who are versed in the philosophy of Pythagoras, and swear by the Tetrachtys, that is, the number four, will know very well that the number ten, which is fignified by the letter X, (and which has so much perplexed the town) has in it many particular powers, that it is called by platonic writers the complete number; that one, two, three and four put together make up the number ten; and that ten is all. But these are not mysteries for ordinary readers to be let into. A man must have spent many years in hard study before he can arrive at the knowledge of them. We had a rabbinical divine in England, who was chaplain to the earl of Essex in queen Eliza beth's time, that had an admirable head for fecrets of this nature. Upon his taking the doc tor of divinity's degree, he preached before the university of Cambridge upon the first verse of the first chapter of the first book of Chronicles, in which, says he, you have the three following words, Adam, Sheth, Enosh. He divided this short text into many parts, and by discovering several myfteries in each word, made a most learned and elaborate discourse. The name of this profound preacher was Dr. Alabaster, of whom the reader may find a more particular account in Dr. Fuller's book of English worthies. This instance will, I hope, convince my readers that there may be a great deal of fine writing in the capital letters which bring up • Mr. Spectator, T HERE is one thing I have often looked for in your papers, and have as often ' wondered to find myself disappointed; the ra'ther, because I think it a subject every way agreeable to your design, and by being left un' attempted by others, seems reserved as a proper • employment for you: I mean a disquisition, < from whence it proceeds, that men of the brightest parts, and most comprehenfive genius, completely furnished with talents for any • province in human affairs; such as by their wife lessons of economy to others have made it evident, that they have the justest notions of life, and of true sense in the conduct of it:-from • what unhappy contradictious cause it proceeds, that persons thus finished by nature and by art, • should so often fail in the management of that • which they so well understand, and want the • address to make a right application of their own rules. This is certainly a prodigious inconfiftency in behaviour, and makes much such a figure in morals as a monstrous birth in natu'rals, with this difference only, which greatly ' aggravates the wonder, that it happens much more frequently; and what a blemish does it • caft upon wit and learning in the general account of the world? and in how disadvantageous a light does it expose them to the busy class of mankind, that there should be so many < instances of persons who have so conducted ⚫ their lives in spite of these transcendent advantages, as neither to be happy in themselves, nor ' useful to their friends; when every body sees it ⚫ was intirely in their own power to be eminent in both these characters ? For my part, I think ⚫ there is no reflexion more aftonishing than to • confider one of these gentlemen spending a fair ' fortune, running in every body's debt without the least apprehenfion of a future reckoning, ⚫ and at last leaving not only his own children, ⚫ but poffibly those of other people, by his means, ⚫ in starving circumstances; while a fellow, whom one would scarce suspect to have a human foul, ⚫ thall perhaps raise a vast estate out of nothing, ⚫ and be the founder of a family capable of being ⚫ very confiderable in their country, and doing • many illustrious services to it. That this ob• servation is just, experience has put beyond all difpute. But though the fact be so evident and ⚫ glaring, yet the causes of it are ftill in the dark; • which makes me perfuade myself, that it would < be no unacceptable piece of entertainment to ' the town, to inquire into the hidden sources of • so unaccountable an evil. I'am, What this correspondent wonders at, has been matter of admiration ever since there was any such thing as human life. Horace reflects upon this inconsistency very agreeably in the character of Tigellius, whom he makes a mighty pretender to economy, and tells you, you might one day hear him speak the most philosophic things imaginable concerning being contented with a little, and his contempt of every thing but mere neceffaries, and in half a week after spend a thousand pound. When he says this of him with relation to expence, he describes him as unequal to himself in every other circumstance of life. And indeed, if we confider lavish men carefully, we shall find it always proceeds from a certain incapacity of poffefsfing themselves, and finding enjoyment in their own minds. Mr. Dryden has expressed this very excellently in the character of Zimri. "A man so various, that he seem'd to be " ing, "Besides ten thousand freaks that died in think- "Blest madman, who could every hour employ This loose state of the foul hurries the extravagant from one pursuit to another; and the reason that his expences are greater than another's, is, that his wants are also more numerous. But what makes so many go on in this way to their lives end, is, that they certainly do not know how contemptible they are in the eyes of the rest of mankind, or rather, that indeed they are not fo contemptible as they deserve. Tully says, it is the greatest of wickedness to lessen your paternal estate. And if a man would thoroughly confider how much worse than banishment it must be to his child, to ride by the estate which should have been his, had it not been for his father's injustice to him, he would be smitten with the reflexion more deeply than can be understood by any but one who is a father. Sure there can be nothing more afflicting, than to think it had been happier for his son to have been born of any other man living than himself. It is not perhaps much thought of, but it is certainly a very important lesson, to learn how to enjoy ordinary life, and to be able to relish your being without the transport of fome passion, or gratification of fome appetite. For want of this capacity, the world is filled with whetters, tipplers, cutters, sippers, and all the numerous train of those who, for want of thinking, are forced to be ever exercising their feeling or tasting. It would be hard on this occafion to mention the harmless smokers of tobacco and takers of snuff, The flower part of mankind, whom my correfpondent wondersshould get estates, are the more immediately formed for that purfuit: they can expect diftant things without impatience, because they are not carried out of their way either by violent • Your most humble Servant. passion orkeen appetite to any thing: To men addict. 'SIR, |