N° 110. FRIDAY, JULY 6. Horror ubique animos, fimul ipfa filentia terrent. As I was walking in this folitude, where the dusk of the evening confpired with so many other occafions of terror, I observed a cow grazing not far from me, which an imagination Virg. Æn. 2. v. 755. that was apt to startle might easily have conAll things are full of horror and affright, strued into a black horse without an head; and And dreadful ev'n the filence of the night. I dare say the poor footman loft his wits upon fome such trivial occafion. A DRYDEN. T a little distance from Sir Roger's house, among the ruins of an old abbey, there is a long'walk of aged elms; which are shot up so very high, that when one passes under them, the rooks and crows that rest upon the tops of them seem to be cawing in another region. I am very much delighted with this fort of noise, which I confider as a kind of natural prayer to that Being who supplies the wants of his whole creation, and who, in the beautiful language of the Pfalms, "feedeth the young ravens that call " upon him." I like this retirement the better, because of an ill report it lies under of being haunted; for which reason, as I have been told in the family, no living creature ever walks in it befides the chaplain. My good friend the butler defired me with a very grave face not to venture myself in it after fun-fet, for that one of the footmen had been almost frighted out of his wits by a spirit that appeared to him in the shape of a black horfe without an head; to which he added, that about a month ago one of the maids coming home late that way with a pail of milk upon her head, heard fuch a rustling among the busnes that she let it fall. I was taking a walk in this place last night between the hours of nine and ten, and could not but fancy it one of the most proper scenes in the world for a ghost to appear in. The ruins of the abbey are scattered up and down on every fide, and half covered with ivy and elder busnes, and the harbours of feveral folitary birds which feldom make their appearance until the dusk of the evening. The place was formerly a church-yard, and has still several marks in it of graves and burying-places. There is such an echo among the old ruins and vaults, that if you tamp but a little louder than ordinary, you hear the found repeated. At the fame time the walk of elms, with the croaking of the ravens which from time to time are heard from the tops of them, looks exceeding folemn and venerable. These objects naturally raise seriousness and attention; and when night heightens the awfulness of the place, and pours out her fupernumerary horrors upon every thing in it, I do not at all wonder that weak minds fill it with spectres and apparitions. Mr. Locke, in his chapter of the affociation of ideas, has very curious remarks to thew how by the prejudice of education one idea often introduces into the mind a whole fet that bear no refemblance to one another in the nature of things. Among several examples of this kind he produces the following inftance. "The ideas " of goblins and sprites have really no more to " do with darkness than light yet let but a "foolish maid inculcate these often on the mind " of a child, and raise them there together, pof" fibly he shall never be able to feparate them again so long as he lives; but darkness shall " ever afterwards bring with it those frightful " ideas, and they shall be fo joined, that he can no more bear the one than the other." ८८ My friend Sir Rogér has often told me with a good deal of mirth, that at his first coming to his eftate he found three parts of his house alto gether useless; that the best room in it had the reputation of being haunted, and by that means was locked up; that noises had been heard in his long gallery, so that he could not get a fervant to enter it after eight of the clock at night; that the door of one of his chambers was nailed up, because there went a story in the family that a butler had formerly hanged himself in it; and that his mother, who lived to a great age, had shut up half the rooms in the house, in which either her husband, a fon, or daughter had died. The knight feeing his habitation reduced to so small a compass, and himself in a manner shut out of his own house, upon the death of his mother ordered all the apartments to be flung open, and exorcised by his chaplain, who lay in every room one after another, and by that means diffipated the fears which had so long reigned in the family. I fhould not have been thus particular upon thefe ridiculous horrors, did not I find them so very much prevail in all parts of the country. At the same time I think a person who is thus terrified with the imagination of ghosts and spectres much more reasonable than one who, contrary to the reports of all hiftorians facred and profane, ancient and modern, and to the traditions of all nations, thinks the appearance of spirits fabulous and groundless. Could not I give myself up to this general testimony of man kind, I should to the relations of particular perfons who are now living, and whom I cannot distrust in other matters of fact. I might here add, that not only the historians, to whom we may join the poets, but likewise the philosophers of antiquity have favoured this opinion. Lucretius himself, though by the course of his philosophy he was obliged to maintain that the foul did not exist separate from the body, makes no doubt of the reality of apparitions, and that men have often appeared after their death. This I think very remarkable; he was so pressed with the matter of fact which he could not have the confidence to deny, that he was forced to account for it by one of the most abfurd unphilo sophical notions that ever was started. He tells us, that the surfaces of all bodies are perpetually flying off from their respective bodies, one after another; and that these surfaces or thin cases that included each other whilst they were joined in the body like the coats of an onion, are fome times seen entire when they are separated from it; by which means we often behold the fhapes and shadows of persons who are either dead or abfent. I shall dismiss this paper with a story out of Jofephus, not fo much for the fake of the ftory itself, as the moral refections with which the author concludes it, and which I shall here fet down in his own words. "Glaphyra, the daughter of king Archelaus, after the death " of her two first husbands, being married to a "third, "third, who was brother to her first husband, and so paffionately in love with her that he "turned off his former wife to make room for "this marriage, had a very odd kind of a dream, "She faricied that the faw her first husband coming towards her, and that the embraced "him with great tenderness; when in the midst of the pleasure which she expressed at the fight "of him, he reproached her after the following "manner: Glaphyra, fays he, thou hast made "good the old faying, that women are not to be trusted. Was not I the husband of thy "virginity? Have I not children by thee? How "couldst thou forget our loves so far as to enter "into a second marriage, and after that into a third, nay to take for thy husband a man who "has so shamefully crept into the bed of his " brother? However, for the fake of our passed "loves, I shall free thee from thy present re"proach, and make thee mine for ever. Gla"phyra told this dream to feveral women of her acquaintance, and died foon after. I thought "this story might not be impertinent in this " place, wherein I speak of those kings: besides that the example deserves to be taken notice " of, as it contains a most certain proof of the " immortality of the foul, and of Divine Provi"dence. If any man thinks these facts incredi ble, let him enjoy his own opinion to himself, " let him not endeavour to disturb the belief "of others, who by instances of this nature are excited to the study of vi.tue." L No. SATURDAY, JULY 7. HE course of my last speculation led me subject upon which I always meditate with great delight, I mean the immortality of the foul. I was yesterday walkalone in one of my friend's woods, and lost my self in it very agreeably, as I was running over in my mind the several arguments that establish this great point, which is the basis of morality, and the fource of all the pleasing hopes and fecret joys that can arise in the heart of a reafonable creature. I considered those several proofs, drawn; First, From the nature of the foul itself, and particularly its immateriality; which though not absolutely necessary to the eternity of its dufation, has, I think, been evinced to almost a demonstration: Secondly, From its passions and sentiments, as particularly from its love of existence, its hortor of annihilation, and its hopes of immortality, with that fecret fatisfaction which it finds in the practice of virtue, and that uneasiness which follows in it upon the commission of vice. Thirdly, From the nature of the fupreme Being, whose justice, goodness, wisdom and veracity are all concerned in this point. But among these and other excellent argufor the immortality of the foul, there is one drawn from the perpetual progress of the foul to its perfection without a possibility of ever arriving at it; which is a hint I do not remember to have feen opened and improved by others who have written on this subject, though it seems to me to carry a great weight with it. How can it enter into the thoughts of man, that the foul, which is capable of fuch immense perfections, and of receiving new improvements to all eternity, shall fall away into nothing almost as foon as it is created? Are fuch abilities made for no purpose? A brute arrives at a point of perfection that he can never pass; in a few years he has all the endowments he is capable of; and were he to live ten thousfand more, would be the fame thing that he is at present. Were a human soul thus at a stand in her accomplishments, were her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away insensibly, and drop at once into a state of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking being that is in a perpetual progress of improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfection, after having just looked abroad into the works of his Creator, and made a few discoveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom and power, muft perish at her first setting out, and in the very beginning of her inquiries? A man, confidered in his present state, seems only sent into the world to propagate his kind. He provides himself with a fucceffor, and imme. diately quits his poft to make room for him. Hares Hæredem alterius, velut unda supervenit undam. HOR. Ep. 2. 1. 2. v. 175. Heir crowds heir, as in a rolling flood "Wave urges wave." CREECH. He does not feem born to enjoy life, but to deliver it down to others. This is not surprizing to confider in animals, which are formed for our use, and can finish their business in a short life. The filk worm, after having spun her task, lays her eggs and dies. But a man can never have taken in his full measure of knowledge, has not time to fubdue his passions, establish his foul in virtue, and come up to the perfection of his nature, be fore he is hurried off the stage. Would an infinitely wife Being make such glorious creatures for so mean a purpose? Can he delight in the production of such abortive intelligences, such short lived reasonable beings? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted? Capacities that are never to be gratified? How can we find that wisdom which shines through all his works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nursery for the next, and believing that the several generations of rational creatures, which rise up and disappear in such quick successions, are only to receive their first rudiments of existence here, and afterwards to be transplanted into a more friendly climate, where they may spread and flourish to all eternity? There is not, in my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant confideration in religion than this of the perpetual progress which the foul makes towards the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look upon the foul as going on from strength to strength: to confider that she is to shine for ever with new accessions of glory, and brighten to all eternity; that she will be still adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowiedge; carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleafing to God himself, to see his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him, by greater degrees of resemblance. T2 Methinks 40 Methinks this single confideration, of the pro- country for that purpose, to instruct them right gress of a finite spirit to perfection, will be fufficient to extinguith all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in superior. That cherubim, which now appears as a god to a human foul, knows very well that the period will come about in eternity, when the human foul shall be as persect as he himself now is: nay, when she shall look down upon that degree of perfection, as much as the now falls thort of it. It is true the higher nature still advances, and by that means preferves his distance and fuperiority in the scale of being; but he knows that, how high foever the station is of which he stands possessed at present, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the fame degree of glory. With what aftonishment and veneration may we look into our own fouls, where there are such hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inex.. haufted fources of perfection? We know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in referve for him. The foul, confidered with its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a possibility of touching it: and can there be a thought so transporting, as to confider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to Him, who is not only the standard of perfection but of happiness! N° 112. MONDAY, JULY 9. ̓Αθανάτες μὲν πρῶτα Θεὺς, νόμῳ ὡς διάκειλαι, ly in the tunes of the psalms; upon which they now very much value themselves; and indeed out-do most of the country churches that I have ever heard. As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will fuffer nobody to fleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been furprized into a short nap at fermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees any body else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servant to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities break out upon these occafions: Sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the finging-psalms, half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it'; fometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces "Amen" three or four times to the fame prayer; and sometimes stands up when every body else is upon their knees, to count the congregation, or fee if any of his tenants are missing. I was yesterday very much surprized to hear my old friend, in the midst of the fervice, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews it seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kickLing his heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite enough to see any thing ridiculous in his behaviour; besides that the general good sense and worthiness of his character makes his friends observe these little fingularities as foils that rather fet off than blemish his good qualities. PYTHAG. First, in obedience to thy country's rites, I day were only a human institution, it would be My friend Sir Roger, being a good church-man, has beautified the infide of his church with several texts of his own choofing; he has likewise given a handfome pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion-table at his own expence. He has often told me, that at his coming to his eftate he found his parishioners very irregular; and that in order to make them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of them a haffoc and a commonprayer book; and at the same time employed an itinerant finging-mafter, who goes about the As foon as the fermon is finished, nobody prefumes to ftir until Sir Roger is gone out of the The knight walks down from his feat in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each fide: and every now and then inquires how such an one's wife, or mother, or fon, or father do, whom he does not fee at church; which is understood as a fecret reprimand to the perfon that is absent. The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechifing-day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a bible to be given him the next day for his encouragement; and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five pounds a year to the clerk's place; and that he may encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the church-service, has promised upon the death of the present incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit. The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more remarkable, because the very next village is famous for the differences and contentions that rise between the parson and the'squire, who live in a perpetual state of war. The parfon is always preaching at the 'fquire, and the 'squire, to be revenged on the parson, never comes to church. The 'fquire has made all his tenants atheists and tithe-stealers; while the parfon inftructs them every Sunday in the dignity of his order, and infinuates to them in almost every fermon, that he is a better man than his patron. In short, matters are come to fuch an extremity, that the 'squire has not faid his prayers either in public or private this half year; and that the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation. Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, are very fatal to the ordinary people; who are so used to be dazzled with riches, that they pay as much deference to the understanding of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning; and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important foever it may be, that is preached to them, when they know there are feveral men of five hundred a year who do not believe it. No 113. TUESDAY, JULY 10. -Hærent infixi pectore vultus. L VIRG. Æn. 4. v. 4. Her looks were deep imprinted in his heart. I N my first description of the comany in which I pass most of my time, it may be remembered that I mentioned a great affliction which my friend Sir Roger had met with in his youth; which was no less than a difappointment in love, It happened this evening that we fell into a very pleasing walk at a distance from his house; a. foon as we came into it, " It is, quoth the good " old man, looking round him with a smile, ve"ry hard, that any part of my land should be set"tled upon one who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did; and yet I am fure I could 'not fee a sprig of any bough of this whole "walk of trees, but I should reflect upon her " and her severity. She has certainly the finest "hand of any woman in the world. You are "to know this was the place wherein I used to " muse upon her; and by that custom I can "never come into it, but the fame tender fenti"ments revive in my mind, as if I had actually "walked with that beautiful creature under the "shades. I have been fool enough to carve her "name on the bark of several of these trees; fo "unhappy is the condition of men in love, to at"tempt the removing of their passions by the "methods which serve only to imprint it deeper. "She has certainly the finest hand of any wo"man in the world." Here followed a profound silence: and I was not displeased to observe my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which I had ever before taken notice he industriously avoided. After a very long pause he entered upon an account of this great circumstance in his life, with an air which I thought raised my idea of him above what I had ever had before; and gave me the picture of that chearful mind of his, before it received that stroke which has ever fince affected his words and actions. But he went on as follows. "the pleafure of a young man, who did not "think ill of his own person, in taking that pub"lic occafion of shewing my figure and beha"viour to advantage. You may easily imagine "to yourself what appearance I made, who am pretty tall, rid well, and was very well dresfed, " at the head of a whole county, with mufic be "fore me, a feather in my hat, and my horfe "well bitted. I can assure you I was not a lit"tle pleased with the kind looks and glances I "had from all the balconies and windows as i "rode to the hall where the affizes were held. "But when I came there, a beautiful creature in " a widow's habit fat in court, to hear the event " of a cause concerning her dower. This com "manding creature, who was born for the de"struction of all who behold her, put on such a "refignation in her countenance, and bore the "whifpers of all around the court with fuch a "pretty uneasiness, I warrant you, and then re"covered herself from one eye to another, until "she was perfectly confused by meeting fome"thing so wistful in all the encountered, that at " last, with a murrain to her, the caft ber be"witching eye upon me. I no fooner met it, " but I bowed like a great surprised booby; and "knowing her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like a captivated calf as I was, "Make way for the defendant's witnesses. This " fudden partiality made all the county imme"diately fee the sheriff also was become a flave " to the fine widow. During the time her caufe "was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant "you, with fuch a deep attention to her business, "took opportunities to have little billets handed " to her counsel, then would be in such a pretty "confufion, occasioned, you must know, by act"ing before so much company, that not only I " but the whole court was prejudiced in her fa vour; and all that the next heir to her husband "had to urge, was thought so groundless and fri"volous, that when it came to her counsel to "reply, there was not half fo much faid as every "one besides in the court thought he could have " urged to her advantage. You must under"stand, Sir, this perverse woman is one of those " unaccountable creatures, that secretly rejoice " in the admiration of men, but indulge them"selves in no farther consequences. Hence it is "that she has ever had a train of admirers, and "she removes from her flaves in town to those in "the country, according to the seafons of the "However, I must needs say this accomplished "mistress of mine has distinguished me above "the rest, and has been known to declare Sir Ro ger de Coverly was the tamest and most humane " of all the brutes in the country. I was told the "faid fo, by one who thought he rallied me; but upon the strength of this flender encourage. "ment of being thought least detestable, Imade "new liveries, new-paired my coach-horfe, fent "them all to town to be bitted, and taught to "throw their legs woll, and move all together, "before I pretended to cross the countr), and " wait upon her. As foon as I thought my reti"nue fuitable to the character of my fortuje and "Youth. ८८ "youth, I fet out from hence to make my ad"dresses. The particular skill of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishes, and yet com"mand respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a greater share of knowledge, wit, " and good sense, than is usual even among men " of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the race of women. If you will not let her go on " with a certain artifice with her eyes, and the "skill of beauty, the will arm herself with her "real charms, and strike you with admiration " instead of defire. It is certain that if you were "to behold the whole woman, there is that dig "nity in her afpect, that compofure in her mo " tion, that complacency in her manner, that if " her form makes you hope, her merit makes you "fear. But then again, the is such a defperate "scholar, that no country-gentleman can ap"proach her without being a jest. As I was going to tell you, when I came to her house I " was admitted to her prefence with great civility; at the fame time she placed herself to be " first seen by me in such an attitude, as I think you call the posture of a picture, that the dif"covered new charms, and I at last came towards "her with fuch an awe as made me speechless. "This the no fooner observed but the made her " advantage of it, and began a discourse to me "concerning love and honour, as they both are "followed by pretenders, and the real votaries "to them. When the discussed these points in a " is angelic. But I find I grow irregular while "I am talking of her; but indeed it would "be stupidity to be unconcerned at such perfec"tion. Oh the excellent creature! the is as ini mitable to all women, as the is inaccesible to "all men." I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him towards the house, that we might be joined by fome other company; and am convinced that the widow is the fecret cause of all that inconfiftency which appears in fome parts of my friend's discourse; though he has fo much command of himfelf as not directly to mention her, yet according to that of Martial, which one knows not how to render into English, Dum tacet hanc loquitur.' I shall end this paper with Si gaudet, fi flet, fi tacet, banc loquitur : Scriberet besterna patri cùm luce falutem, Nævia lux inquit, Nævia numen, ave. Epig. 69. 1. Ta "Let Rufus weep, rejoice, stand, fit, or walk, discourse, which I verily believe was as learned I am my lovely Navia, ever thine." " as the best philosopher in Europe could poffi" bly make, she asked me whether she was fo "happy as to fall in with my fentiments on these " important particulars. Her confident fat by " her, and upon my being in the laft confufion " and filence, this malicious aid of hers turning "to her fays, I am very glad to obferve Sir Roger "pauses upon this fubject, and feems refolved to " deliver all his fentiments upon the matter "when he pleases to speak. They both kept "their countenances, and after I had fat half an " hour meditating how to behave before fuch " profound cafuifts, I rose up and took my leave. "Chance has fince that time thrown me very of "ten in her way, and the as often has directed a " discourse to me which I do not understand. "This barbarity has kept me ever at a distance " from the most beautiful object my eyes ever " beheld. It is thus also the deals with all man. "kind, and you must make love to her, as you " would conquer the sphinx, by poting her. But "were she like other women, and that there were any talking to her, how conftant must the plea" sure of that man be, who could converfe with a creature-But, after all, you may be fure her " heart is fixed on fome one or other; and yet I " have been credibly informed; but who can be "lieve half that is faid! After the had done " speaking to me, the put her hand to her bosom "and adjusted her tucker. Then the caft her eyes a little dowa, upon my beholding her too earnestly. They say the fings excellently! her "voice in her ordinary speech has fomething in it " inexpreffibly fweet. You must know I dined " with her at a public table the day after I first "saw her, and the helped me to some taníy in "the eye of all the gentlemen in the country. "She has certainly the finest hand of any wo"man in the world. I can affure you, Sir, were you to behold her, you would be in the fame condition; foras her speech is music, her form No 114. WEDNESDAY, JULY 11. - Paupertatis pudor & fuga R HOR. Ep. 18. 1. 1. v. 24. The dread of nothing more POOLY. Economy in our affairs has the fame effect upon our fortunes, which good-breeding has upon our converfations. There is a pretending behaviour in both cafes, which instead of making men efteemed, renders them both miferable and contemptible. We had yesterday at Sir Roger's a fet of country gentlemen who dined with him; and after dinner the glass was taken, by those who pleased, pretty plentifully. Among others I observed a person of a tolerable aspect, who seemed to be more greedy of liquor than any of the company, and yet, methought, he did not taste it with delight. As he grew warm, he was fufpicious of every thing that was faid; and as he advanced towards being fuddled, his humour grew worse. At the fame time his bitternefs seemed to be rather an inward dissatisfaction in his own mind, that any dislike he had taken to the company. Upon hearing his name, I knew him to be a gentleman of a confiderable fortune in this county, but greatly in debt. What gives the unhappy man this peevishness of spirit is, that his estate is dipped, and is eating out with usury; and yet he has not the heart to fell any part of it. His proud stomach, at the cost of restless nights, conftant inquietudes, danger of affronts, and a thousand nameless inconveniences, preserves this canker in his fortune, rather than it shall be faid he is a man of a fewer hundreds a year than he has been commonly reputed. Thus he endures the torment of poverty, to avoid the name of being lefs |