paufed fome time' told them, with the air of a man who would not give his judgment rafhly, that "much might be faid on both fides." They were neither of them diffatisfied with the knight's determination, because neither of them found himself in the wrong by it; upon which we made the best of our way to the affizes.

The court was fat before Sir Roger came; but notwithstanding all the juftices had taken their places upon the bench, they made room for the old knight at the head of them; who for his reputation in the country took occafion to whisper in the Judge's ear, "that he was glad his lord"fhip had fo much good weather in his circuit.' I was liftening to the proceeding of the court with much attention, and infinitely pleased with that great appearance and folemnity which fo properly accompanies fuch a public adminiftration of our laws; when, after about an hour's fitting, I obferved to my great furprife, in the midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Roger was getting up to speak. I was in pain for him, until I found he had acquitted himself of two or three fentences, with a look of much bufinefs and great intrepidity.

Upon his first rifing, the court was hufhed,, and a general whifper ran among the country people that Sir Roger " was up." The fpeech he made was fo little to the purpose, that I fhall not trouble my readers with an account of it; and I believe was not fo much defigned by the knight himself to inform the, court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and keep up his credit in the country.

I was highly delighted, when the court rofe, to fee the gentlemen of the country gathering about my old friend, and ftriving who fhould compliment him moft; at the fame time that the ordinary people gazed upon him at a distance, not a. little admiring his courage, that was not afraid to fpeak to the judge.

In our return home we met with a very odd accident; which I cannot forbear relating, because it fhews how defirous all who know Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their efteem. When we were arrived upon the verge of his eftate, we stopped at a little inn to reft ourfelves and our horfes. The man of the houfe had it feems been formerly a fervant in the knight's family; and to do honour to his old mafter, had fome time fince, unknown to Sir Roger, put him in a fign-poft before the door; fo that the "knight's head" had hung out upon the road about a week before he himfelf know any thing of the matter, As foon as Sir Roger was acquainted with it, finding that his fervant's indifcretion proceeded wholly from affection and good-will, he only told him that he had made him too high a compliment; and when the fellow feemed to think that could hardly be, added with a more decifive look, that it was too great an honour for any man under a duke; but told him at the fame time, that it might be altered with a very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the knight's directions to add a pair of whifkers to the face, and by a little aggravation of the features to change it into the Saracen's-head. I fhould not have known this story had not the inn-keeper, upon Sir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing, that his hor our's head was brought back laft night with the alterations that he had ordered to be made in it.

I

Upon this my friend, with his ufual chearfulness, related the particulars above-mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought into the room. could not forbear difcovering greater expreffions of mirth than ordinary upon the appearance of this monftrous face, under which, notwithstanding it was made to frown and ftare in a most extraordinary manner, I could ftill difcover a diftant refemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger, upon feeing me laugh, defired me to tell him truly if I thought it poffible for people to know him in that difguife. I at firft kept my usual filence; but upon the knight's conjuring me to tell him whether it was not still more like himfelf than a Saracen, I compofed my countenance in the best manner I could, and replied, "that "much might be faid on both fides."

These feveral adventures, with the knight's behaviour in them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any of my travels.

L

Yet the best blood by learning is refin'd,
And virtue arms the folid mind;
Whilft vice will stain the nobleft race,
And the paternal stamp deface.

ANON.

A

SI was yesterday taking the air with my friend Sir Roger, we were met by a freshcoloured ruddy young man who rid by us full fpeed, with a couple of fervants behind him. Upon my inquiry who he was, Sir Roger told me that he was a young gentleman of a confiderable eftate, who had been educated by a tender mother that lived not many miles from the place where we were. She is a very good lady, fays my friend, but took so much care of her fon's health that he has made him good for nothing. She quickly found that reading was bad for his eyes, and that writing made his head ach. He was let loofe among the woods as foon as he was able to ride on horfeback, or to carry a gun upon his fhoulder. To be brief, I found, by my friend's account of him, that he had got a great stock of health, but nothing elfe; and that if it were a man's bufincfs only to live, there would not be a more accomplished young fellow in the whole county.

The truth of it is, fince my refiding in thefe parts I have feen and heard innumerable infances of young heirs and elder brothers, who either from their own reflecting upon the cftates they are born to, and therefore thinking all other accomplishments unneceffary, or from hearing these notions frequently inculcated to them by the flattery of their fervants and domeftics, or from the fame foolish thought prevailing in those who have the care of their education, are of no manner of ufe but to keep up their families, and transmit their lands and houfes in a line to pofterity.

This makes me often think on a story I have heard of two friends, which I shall give my reader at large, under feigned names. The moral of it may, I hope, be useful, though there are fome circumftances which make it rather appear like a novel than a tru. ftory,

X

Eudoxun

parent, was taught to rejoice at the fight of Eu doxus, who visited his friend very frequently, and was dictated by his natural affection, as well as by the rules of prudence, to make himself esteemed and beloved by Florio. The boy was now old enough to know his fuppofed father's circumftances, and that therefore he was to make his way in the world by his own industry. This confideration grew ftronger in him every day, and produced fo good an effect, that he applied himself with more than ordinary attention to the purfuit of every thing which Leontine recommended to him. His natural abilities, which were very good, affifted by the directions of fo excellent a counsellor, enabled him to make a quicker progrefs than ordinary through all the parts of his education. Before he was twenty years of age, having finished his ftudies and exercifes with great applaufe, he was removed from the university to the inns of courts, where there are very few that make themselves confiderable proficients in the ftudies of the place, who know they fhall arrive at great eftates without them. This was not Florio's cafe; he found that three hundred a year was but a poor eftate for Leontine and himself to live upon, fo that he studied without intermiffion until he gained a very good infight into the conftitution and laws of his

Eudoxus and Leontine began the world with fmall eftates. They were both of them men of good fenfe and great virtue. They profecuted their ftudies together in their earlier years, and entered into fuch a friendship as lafted to the end of their lives. Eudoxus, at his first fetting out in the world, threw himself into a court, where by his natural endowments and his acquired abilities he made his way from one poft to another, until at length he had raised a very confiderable fortune. Leontine, on the contrary, fought all opportunities of improving his mind by ftudy, converfation and travel. He was not only acquainted with all the sciences, but with the most eminent profeffors of them throughout Europe. He knew perfectly well the interefts of its princes, with the cuftoms and fashions of their courts, and could fcarce meet with the name of an extraordinary perfon in the Gazette whom he had not either talked to or feen. In fhort, he had fo well mixed and digefted his knowledge of men and books, that he made one of the most accomplished perfons of his age. During the whole courfe of his ftudies and travels he kept up a punctual correfpondence with Eudoxus, who often made himfelf acceptable to the principal men about court by the intelligence which he received from Leontine. When they were both turned of forty, an age in which, according to Mr. Cowley, "there is no dallying with life," they determined, purfuant to the refolution they had taken in the beginning of their lives, to retire, and pass the remainder of their days in the country. In order to this, they both of them married much about the fame time. Leontine, with his own and his wife's fortune, bought a farm of three hundred a year, which lay within the neighbourhood of his friend Eudoxus, who had purchased an eftate of as many thousands. They were both of them fathers about the fame time, Eudoxus having a fon born to him, and Leontine a daughter; but to the unfpeakable grief of the latter, his young wife, in whom all his happinefs was wrapt up, died in a few days after the birth of her daughter. His affliction would have been infupportable, had not he been comforted by the daily vifits and converfations of his friend. As they were one day talking together with their ufual intimacy, Leontine, confidering how incapable he was of giving his daughter a proper education in his own houfe, and Eudoxus reflecting on the ordinary behaviour of a fon who knows himself to be the heir of a great eftate, they both agreed upon an exchange of children, namely, that the boy fhould be bred up with Leontine as his fon, and that the girl hould live with Eudoxus as his daughter, until they were each of them arrived at years of difcrction. The wife of Eudoxus, knowing that her fon could not be fo advantageously brought up as under the care of Leontine, and confidering at the fame time that he would be perpetually under her own eye, was by degrees prevailed upon to fall in with the project. She therefore took Leonilla, for that was the name of the girl, and educated her as her own daughter, The two friends on each fide had wrought themfelves to fuch an habitual tendernefs for the children who were under their direction, that each of them had the real paffion of a father, where the title was but imaginary. Florio, the name of the young heir that lived with Leontine, though he had all the duty and affcction imaginable for his fuppofed" it deferves the greateft reward I can confer

fhall be ftill my daughter; her filial piety, "though mifplaced, has been fo exemplary that

6

46 upen

country.

I fhould have told my reader, that whilft Florio lived at the houfe of his fofter-father he was always an acceptable guest in the family of Eudoxus, where he became acquainted with Leonilla from her infancy. His acquaintance with her by degrees grew into love, which in a mind trained up in all the fentiments of honour and virtue became a very uneafy paffion. He despaired of gaining an heirefs of fo great a fortune, and would rather have died than attempted it by any indirect methods. Leonilla, who was a woman of the greatest beauty, joined with the greatest modefty, entertained at the fame time a fecret paffion for Florio, but conducted herself with fo much prudence that the never gave him the leaft intimation of it. Florio was now engaged in all thofe arts and improvements that are proper to raife a man's private fortune, and give him a figure in his country, but fecretly tormented with that paffion which burns with the greatest fury in a virtuous and noble heart, when he received a fudden fummons from Leontine to repair to him in the country the next day. For it feems Eudoxus was fo filled with the report of his fon's reputation, that he could no longer with-hold making himfelf known to him. The morning after his arrival at the houfe of his fuppofed father, Leontine told him that Eudoxus had fomething of great importance to communicate to him; upon which the good man embraced him, and wept. Florio was no fooner arrived at the great house that stood in his neighbourhood, but Eudoxus took him by the hand, after the first falutes were over, and conducted him into his clofet. He there opened to him the whole fecret of his parentage and education, concluding after this manner: "I have no other way left of ac"knowledging my gratitude to Leontine, than "by marrying you to his daughter. He fhal! "not lofe the pleasure of being your father by "the difcovery I have made to you. Leonilla too

88 upon it. You shall have the pleasure of seeing few drops. Were all books reduced thus to their

*

quinteffence, many a bulky author would make his appearance in a penny-paper: there would be fcarce fuch a thing in nature as a folio: the works of an age would be contained on a few fhelves; not to mention millions of volumes, that would be utterly annihilated.

•❝ room.

a great estate fall to you, which you would "have loft the relish of had you known yourself "born to it. Continue only to deferve it in the "fame manner you did before you were poffeffed "of it. I have left your mother in the next Her heart yearns towards you. She is "making the fame discoveries to Leonilla which "I have made to yourself," Florio was so overwhelmed with this profufion of happiness, that he was not able to make a reply, but threw himfelf down at his father's feet, and amidít a flood of tears, kiffed and embraced his knees, asking his blefling, and expreffing in dumb fhow thofe fentiments of love, duty, and gratitude that were too big for utterance. To conclude, the happy pair were married, and half Eudoxus's eftate fettled upon them. Leontine and Eudoxus paffed the remainder of their lives together; and received in the dutiful and affectionate behaviour of Florio and Leonilla the just recompence, as well as the natural effects, of that care which they had bestowed upon them in their education.

L

N° 124. MONDAY, JULY 23.
Μεγα Βιβλιον, μεγα κακον.
A great book is a great evil.

A

Man who publishes his works ir a volume, has an infinite advantage over one who communicates his writings to the world in loofe tracts and fingle pieces. We do not expect to meet with any thing in a bulky volume, until after fome heavy preamble, and feveral words of courfe, to prepare the reader for what follows: nay, authors have established it as a kind of rule, that a man ought to be dull fometimes; as the most fevere reader makes allowances for many refts and nodding-places in a voluminous writer. This gave occafion to the famous Greek proverb which I have chofen for my motto, "that a great book is a great evil.

On the contrary, thofe who publish their thoughts in diftin&t heets, and as it were by piece-meal, have none of thefe advantages. We muft immediately fall into our fubject, and treat every part of it in a lively manner, or our papers are thrown by as dull and infipid; our matter muft lie clofe together, and either be wholly new in itself, or in the turn it receives from our expreffions. Were the books of our beft authors thus to be retailed to the public, and every page fubmitted to the taste of forty or fifty thousand readers, I am afraid we should complain of many flat expreffions, trivial obfervations, beaten topics, and common thoughts, which go off very well in the lump. At the fame time, notwithftanding fome papers may be made up of broken hints and irregular sketches, it is often expected that every fheet should be a kind of treatife, and make out in thought what it wants in bulk: that a point of humour should be worked up in all its parts; and a fubject touched upon in its most effential articles, without the repetitions, tautologies and enlargements that are indulged to longer labours. The ordinary writers of morality prefcribe to their readers after the Galenic way; their medicines are made up in large quantities. An effay-writer must practise in the chymical method, and give the virtue of a full draught in a

I cannot think that the difficulty of furnishing out feparate papers of this nature, has hindered authors from communicating their thoughts to the world after such a manner: though I must confefs I am amazed that the prefs fhould be only made ufe of in this way by news-writers, and the zealots of parties; as if it were not more advantageous to mankind, to be inftructed in wisdom and virtue, than in politics; and to be made good fathers, hufbands, and fons, than counsellors and great men of antiquity, who took so much pains in order to inftru& mankind, and leave the world wifer and better than they found it; had they, I fay, been poffeffed of the art of printing, there is no queftion but they would have made fuch an advantage of it, in dealing out their lectures to the public. Our common prints would be of great ufe were they thus calculated to diffuse good fenfe through the bulk of a people, to clear up their understandings, animate their minds with virtue, diffipate the forrows of a heavy heart, or unbend the mind from its more fevere employments with innocent amufements. When knowledge, instead of being bound up in books, and kept in libraries and retirements, is thus obtruded upon the public; when it is canvaffed in every affembly, and expofed upon every table; I cannot forbear reflecting upon that paffage in the Proverbs "Wisdom crieth without, fhe uttereth her voice "in the streets; fhe crieth in the chief place of "concourse, in the openings of the gates. In "the city the uttereth her words, faying, how "long, ye fimple ones will ye love fimplicity? "and the fcorners delight in their fcorning? and "fools hate knowledge?"

The many letters which come to me from perfons of the beft fenfe in both fexes, for I may pronounce their characters from their way of writing, do not a little encourage me in the profecution of this my undertaking: befides that my bookfeller tells me, the demand for thefe my papers increases daily. It is at his inftance that I fhall continue my rural fpeculations to the end of this month; feveral having made up feparate fets of them, as they have done before of those relating to wit, to operas, to points of morality, or fubjects of humour.

I am not at all mortified, when fometimes I fee my works thrown afide by men of no tafte nor learning. There is a kind of heavinefs and ignorance that hangs upon the minds of ordinary men, which is too thick for knowledge to break through. Their fouls are not to be enlightened,

Nox atra cavâ circumvolat umbrâ.
Virg. Æn. 2. v. 360.
Dark night surrounds them with her hollow fhade.

To thefe I muft apply the fable of the mole, that after having confulted many oculifts for the bettering of his fight, was at laft provided with a good pair of fpectacles; but upon his endeavouring to make ufe of them, his mother told him very prudently, "that fpectacles, though "they might help the eye of a man, could be of "no ufe to a mole," It is not therefore for the X 2 benefit

A furious party-fpirit, when it rages in its full violence, exerts itself in civil war and bloodshed; and when it is under its greatest restraints, naturally breaks out in falfhood, detraction, calumny, and a partial administration of justice. word, it fills a nation with fpleen and rancour, and extinguishes all the feeds of good-nature, compaffion, and humanity.

In a

Plutarch fays very finely, that a man should not allow himfelf to hate even his enemies, because, fays he, if you indulge this paffion in fome occafions, it will rise of itself in others; if you hate your enemies, you will contract fuch a vicious habit of mind, as by degrees will break out upon those who are your friends, or those who are indifferent to you. I might here obferve how admirably this precept of morality, which derives the malignity of hatred from the paffion itself, Cand not from its object, anfwers to that great rule

which was dictated to the world about an hundred years before this philofopher wrote; but inftead of that, I fhall only take notice, with a real grief of heart, that the minds of many good men among us appear foured with party-principles, and alienated from one another in fuch a manner as feems to me altogether inconfiftent with the dictates either of reafon or religion. Zeal for a public caufe is apt to breed paffions in the hearts of virtuous perfons, to which the regard of their own private interest would never have betrayed them.

benefit of moles that I publish these my daily effays.

But befides fuch as are moles through ignorance, there are others who are moles through envy. As it is faid in the Latin proverb, "that "cne man is a wolf to another;" fo, generally fpcaking, one author is a mole to another author. It is impoffible for them to discover beauties in one another's works, they have eyes only for fpots and blemishes: they can indeed fee the light, as it is faid of the animals which are their namefakes, but the idea of it is painful to them; they immediately fhut their eyes upon it, and withdraw themselves into a wilful obfcurity. I have already caught two or three of thefe dark undermining vermin, and intend to make a ftring of them, in order to hang them up in one of my papers, as an example to all fuch voluntary moles.

N° 125. TUESDAY, JULY 24.
Ne, pueri, ne tanta animis affuefcite bella:
Neu patriæ validas in vifcera vertite vires.
VIRG. Æn. 6. v. 131.
Embrace again, my fons, be foes no more,
Nor ftain your country with her childrens gore.
DRYDEN.

Y worthy friend Sir Roger, when we are talking of the malice of parties, very frequently tells us an accident that happened to him when he was a school-boy, which was at a time when the feuds ran high between the round heads and cavaliers. This worthy knight, being then but a ftripling, had occafion to inquire which was the way to St. Anne's lane, upon which the perfon whom he spoke to, instead of answering his queftion, called him a young popish cur, and asked him who had made Anne a faint? The boy, being in fome confufion, inquired of the next he met, which was the way to Anne's lane; but was called a prick-eared cur for his pains, and inftead of being fhewn the way, was told that fhe had been a faint before he was born, and would be one after he was hanged. Upon this, fays Sir Roger, I did not think fit to repeat the former queftion, but going into every lane in the neighbourhood, asked what they called the name of that lane. By which ingenious artifice, he found out the place he inquired after, without giving offence to any party. Sir Roger generally clofes this narrative with reflections on the mifchief that parties do in the country; how they spoil good neighbourhood, and make honeft gentlemen hate one another; befides that they manifeftly tend to the prejudice of the land-tax, and the deftruction of the game.

There cannot a greater judgment befal a country than fuch a dreadful fpirit of divifion as rends a government into two diftinct people, and makes then greater ftrangers and more averfe to one another, than if they were actually two different nations. The effects of fuch a divifion are pernicious to the laft degree, not only with regard to thofe advantages which they give the common enemy, but to thefe private cvils which they produce in the heart of almost every particular perfon. This influence is very fatal both to mens morals and their understandings; it finks the virtue of a nation, and not only fo, but destroys even common fenfe,

If this party-fpirit has fo ill an effect on our morals, it has likewife a very great one upon our judgments. We often hear a poor infipid paper or pamphlet cried up, and fometimes a noble piece depreciated, by thofe who are of a different principle from the author. One who is actuated by this fpirit is almost under an incapacity of difcerning either real blemishes or beauties. A man of merit in a different principle, is like an objec feen in two different mediums, that appears crooked or broken, however ftraight and intire it may be in itself. For this reafon there is fcarce a perfon of any figure in England, who does not go by two contrary characters, as oppofite to one another as light and darknefs. Knowledge and learning fuffer in a particular manner from this ftrange prejudice,which at prefent prevails amongst all ranks and degrees in the British nation. As men formerly became eminent in learned focietics by their parts and acquifitions, they now distinguifh themfelves by the warmth and violence with which they efpoufe their refpective parties. Books are valued upon the like confiderations; an abufive fcurrilous ftile paffes for fatire, and a dull scheme of party-notions is called fine writing.

There is one piece of fophiftry practifed by both fides, and that is the taking any fcandalous ftory that has been ever whispered or invented of a private man, for a known undoubted truth, and raifing fuitable fpeculations upon it. Calumnies that have been never proved, or have been often refuted, are the ordinary poftulatums of these infamous fcribblers, upon which they proceed as upon first principles granted by all men, though in their hearts they know they are falfe, or at best very doubtful. When they have laid these foun dations of fcurrility, it is no wonder that their fuperftructure is every way anfwerable to them. If this fhameless practice of the present age endures much longer, praise and reproach will cease to be motives of action in good men.

There