SIR, F Oxford, Nov. 22. you would be so kind to me, as to fufpend that fatisfaction, which the learned world muft receive in reading one of our fpeculations, ⚫ by publishing this endeavour, you will very much oblige and improve one, who has the boldness to hope, that he may be admitted into • the number of your correfpondents. ، ، I have often wondered to hear men of good • sense and good-nature profess a diflike to mufic, when at the fame time they do not fcruple to own, that it has the most agreeable and improving influences over their minds: it feems ⚫ to me an unhappy contradiction, that those perfons should have an indifference for an art, • which raises in them fuch a variety of fublime • pleasures. However, though some few, by their own or the unreasonable prejudices of others, may be led into a distaste for those musical societies, • which are erected merely for entertainment; yet fure I may venture to say, that no one can have the leaft reafon for disaffection to that fo• lemn kind of melody which confifts of the praifes of our Creator. You have, I presume, already prevented me in an argument upon this occafion, which ' fome divines have fuccefsfully advanced upon a much greater, that musical facrifice and ado⚫ration has claimed a place in the laws and cuftoms of the most different nations; as the Grecians and Romans of the profane, the Jews all those vain or immodeft thoughts which ' would be an hindrance to us in the perform'ance of that great duty of thanksgiving, which, as we are informed by our Almighty Benefac'tor, is the most acceptable return which can be made for those infinite stores of blessings 'which he daily condescends to pour down upon 'his creatures. When we make use of this pathetical method of addreffing ourselves to him, we can fcarce contain from raptures! The 'heart is warmed with a fublimity of goodness! We are all piety and all love! How do the bleised spirits rejoice and won' der to behold unthinking man proftrating his 'foul to his dread Sovereign in fuch a warmth of piety as they themselves might not be afhamed of! ' I small close these reflections with a passage 'taken out of the third book of Milton's Paradife Loft, where those harmonious beings are thus nobly described: " Then crown'd again, their golden harps they • and Chriftians of the facred world did as una- Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet nimoufly agree in this, as they difagreed in all other parts of their economy. I know there are not wanting fome who are of opinion that the pompous kind of mufic which is in use in foreign churches is the moft excellent, as it most affects our senses. But I am fwayed by my judgment to the modefty which is observed in the musical part of our devotions. Methinks there is fomething very laudable in the custom of a voluntary be• fore the first lesson; by this we are supposed to ⚫ be prepared for the admiffion of those divine truths, which we are shortly to receive. We are then to cast all worldly regards from off our hearts, all tumults within are then becalmed, and there should be nothing near the foul but peace and tranquillity. So that in this short office of praise, the man is raised above him• felf, and is almost lofst already amidst the joys ' of futurity, I have heard fome nice observers frequently < commend the policy of our church in this particular, that it leads us on by such eary and re'gular methods, that we are perfectly deceived into piety. When the spirits begin to languish (as they too often do with a conftant feries ' of petitions) she takes care to allow them a pious respite, and relieves them with the raptures of an anthem, Nor can we doubt that the < fublimest poetry, softened in the most moving • strains of music, can never fail of humbling ، ، or exalting the foul to any pitch of devotion. • Who can hear the terrors of the Lord of Hosts • described in the most expreffive melody, without being awed into a veneration? Or who can hear the kind and endearing attributes of a merciful father, and not be softened into love towards him? ، "Of charming fymphony they introduce *"The facred song, and waken raptures high: "No one exempt, no voice but well could join "Melodious part, such concord is in Heav'n." Mr. Spectator, T HE town cannot be unacquainted, that in divers parts of it there are vociferous fets of men who are called Rattling Clubs; but what shocks me most is, they have now the front to invade the church and inftitute these societies there, as a clan of them have ' in late times done, to such a degree of infolence, as has given the partition where they * reside in a church near one of the city gates, the denomination of the Rattling Pew. These gay fellows from humble lay profefsions set up 'for critics without any tincture of letters or reading, and have the vanity to think they can lay hold of fomething from the parson ' which may be formed into ridicule. It is needless to observe, that the gentlemen who every Sunday have the hard province ' of instructing these wretches in a way they are in no present disposition to take, have a fixt character for learning and eloquence, not ' to be tainted by the weak efforts of this contemptible part of their audiences. Whether the pulpit is taken by these gentlemen, or any strangers their friends, the way of the club is this: if any fentiments are delivered too fublime for their conception: if any uncommon topic is entered on, or one in use new modified with the finest judgment and dexterity; or any controverted point be never so elegantly handled in short whatever furpaffes the narrow limits of their theology, or is not fuited to their tafte, they are all immediately upon the watch, fixing their eyes upon each other, with as much warmth as four 6 our gladiators of Hockley-in-the-Hole, and waiting like them for a hit; if one touches, fall take fire, and their noddles instantly meet in the centre of the pew; then, as by beat of drum, with exact discipline, they rear up into a full length of stature, and with odd looks and gefticulations confer together in so 'loud and clamorous a manner, continued to the close of the difcourse, and during the after-pfalm, as is not to be filenced but by the bells. Nor does this fuffice them, with out aiming to propagate their noise through all the church, by fignals given to the ad joining seats, where others designed for this *fraternity are sometimes placed upon trial to receive them. • The folly as well as rudeness of this pracFtice is in nothing more confpicuous than this, that all that follows in the fermon is loft; for whenever our sparks take alarm, they blaze f out and grow so tumultuous that no after { explanation can avail, it being impoffible for themselves or any near them to give an ac count thereof. If any thing really novel is advanced, how averse foever it may be to their way of thinking, to say nothing of duty, men of less levity than thefe would be led by a natural curiofity to hear the whole. ، Laughter, where things facred are transacted, is far less pardonable than whining at a con' venticle; the last has at least a semblance of grace, and where the affection is unseen may possibly imprint wholesome lessons on the fincere; but the first has no excuse, breaking through all the rules of order and decency, and manifesting a remissness of mind in those important matters, which require the strict'est composure and steadiness of thought: a proof of the greatest folly in the world. I shall not here enter upon the yeneration due to the fanctity of the place, the reverence owing the minister, or the respect that fo great ⚫an assembly as a whole parish may justly claim. I mall only tell them, that as the Spanish cobler, to reclaim a profligate son, bid him have fome regard to the dignity of "his family," so they as gentlemen (for we citizens assume to be such one day in a week) are bound for the future to repent of, and abstain from, the gross abuses here mentioned, whereof they have been guilty in contempt of heaven and earth, and contrary to the laws in this cafe made and provided. I am, Sir, your very humble fervant, had been black, as I perceived from fome few spaces, that had escaped the powder, which was incorporated with the greatest part of his coat : his periwig, which cost no small fum, was after so slovenly a manner cast over his shoulders, that it seemed not to have been combed since the year 1712; his linen, which was not much concealed, was daubed with plain Spanish from the chin to the lowest button, and the diamond upon his finger (which naturally, dreaded the water) put me in mind how it sparkled amidft the rubbish of the mine, where it was first difcovered. On the other hand, the pretty quaker appeared in all the elegance of cleanliness. Not a fpeck was to be found upon her. A clear, clean oval face, just edged about with little thin plaits of the purest cambrick, received great advantages from the shade of her black hood; as did the whiteness of her arms from that fobercoloured stuff, in which the had cloathed herself. The plainness of her dress was very well fuited to the fimplicity of her phrases; all which put together, tho' they could not give me a great opinion of her religion they did of her innocence. This adventure occasioned my throwing together a few hints upon cleanliness, which I shall consider, as one of the half-virtues, as Aristotle calls them, and shall recommend it under the three following heads; as it is a mark of politeness; as it produces love; and as it bears analogy to purity of mind. First, It is a mark of politeness. It is universally agreed upon, that no one, unadorned with this virtue, can go into company, without giving a manifest offence. The easier or higher any one's fortune is, this duty rises proportionably. The different nations of the world are as much diftinguished by their cleanliness, as by their Arts and Sciences. The more any country is civilized, the more they consult this part of politeness. We need but compare our ideas of a female Hottentot and an English beauty to be fatisfied of the truth of what hath been advanced. In the next place, cleanliness may be faid to be the foster-mother of love. Beauty indeed most commonly produces that passion in the mind, but cleanliness preferves it. An indifferent face and person, kept in perpetual neatness, hath won many a heart from a pretty. flattern. Age itself is not unamiable, while it is preferved clean and unfullied; like a piece of metal constantly kept smooth and bright, we look on it with more pleasure than on a new R. M. veffel that is cankered with rust. I might observe farther, that as cleanliness renders us agreeable to others, so it makes us eafy to ourselves; that it is an excellent préfervative of health; and that several vices, de structive both to mind and body, are inconfiftent with the habit of it, But these reflections I shall leave to the leifure of my readers, and shall observe in the third place, that it bears a great analogy with purity of mind, and naturally inspires refined sentiments and paffions. We find from experience, that through the prevalence of custom, the most vicious actions lose their horror, by being made familiar to us. On the contrary, those who live in the neighbourhood of good examples, fly from the first appearances of what is shocking. It fares with us much after the fame manner, as our ३५ ideas, ideas. Our fenfes, which are the inlets to all the images conveyed to the mind, can only transmit the impression of such things as ufually furround them. So that pure and unfullied thoughts are naturally suggested to the mind, by those objects that perpetually encompass us, when they are beautiful and elegant in their kind. In the east, where the warmth of the climate makes cleanliness more immediately neceifary than in colder countries, es, it is made one part of their religion: the Jewish law, and the Mahometan, which in fome things copies after it, is filled with bathings, purifications, and other rites of the like nature. Tho' there is the above-named convenient reason to be assigned for these ceremonies, the chief intention undoubtedly was to typify inward purity and cleanliness of heart by those outward washings. We read feveral injunctions of this kind in the book of Deuteronomy, which confirm this truth; and which are but ill-accounted for by faying as fome do, that they were only inftituted for convenience in the defert, which otherwise could not have been habitable for fo many years. I shall conclude this essay, with a story which I have fomewhere read in an account of Mahometan fuperftitions. A Dervise of great fanctity one morning had the misfortune as he took up a crystal cup which was confecrated to the prophet, to let it fall up on the ground, and dash it in pieces. His fon coming in, some time after, he stretched out his hand to bless him, as his manner was every morning; but the youth going out stumbled over the threshold and broke his arm. As the old man wondered at these events, a caravan paífed by in its way from Mecca. The Dervise approached it to beg a blessing; but as he stroked one of the holy camels, he received a kick from the bealt, that forely bruised him. His forrow and amazement increased upon him, until he recolleted that through hurry and inadvertency he had that morning come abroad without wafh ing his hands. NNo 6;1. MONDAY, DECEMBER 13. Explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris. VIRG. Æn. 6. ver. 545. __ the number I'll complete, Then to obfcurity well pleas'd retreat. T HE love of symmetry and order, which is natural to the mind of man, betrays him fometimes into very whimsical fancies. "This "noble principle," says a French author, "loves to amufe itself on the most trifling oc"cafions. You may fee a profound philosopher," fays he, "walk for an hour together in his "chamber, and industrioufly treading, at every "step, upon every other board in the flooring." Every reader will recollect feveral instances of this nature without my assistance. I think it was Gregorio Leti who had published as many books as he was years old; which was a rule he had laid down and punctually observed to the year of his death. It was, perhaps, a thought of the like nature, which determined Homer himfelf to divide each of his poems into as many books, as there are letters in the Greek alphabet. Herodotus has in the fame manner adapted his books to the number of the Muses, for which reason many a learned man hath wished there had been more than nine of that fifterhood. Several epic poets have religiously followed Virgil as to the number of his books; and even Milton is thought by many to have changed changed the number of his books from ten to twelve, for no other reason; as Cowley teils us, it was his defign, had he finished his Davideis, to have also imitated the Æneid in this particular. I believe every one will agree with me, that a perfection of this nature hath no foundation in reason; and, with due respect to these great names, may be looked upon as something whimsical. I mention these great examples in defence of my bookseller, who occasioned this eighth volume of Spectators, because, as he said, he thought seven a very old number. On the other fide, several grave reasons were urged on this impor tant subject; as in particular, that seven was the precise number of the wife men, and that the most beautiful constellation in the heavens was composed of seven stars. This he allowed to be true, but still insisted, that seyen was an odd number; suggesting at the same time, that if he were provided with a fufficient stock of leading papers, he should find friends ready enough to carry on the work. Having by this means got his vessel launched and fet afloat, he hath committed the steerage of it, from time to time, to such as he thought capable of conducting it. The close of this volume, which the town may now expect in a little time, may posibly ascribe each sheet to its proper author. It were no hard task to continue this paper a confiderable time longer, by the help of large contributions sent from unknown hands. I cannot give the town a better opinion of the Spectator's correspondents, than by publishing the following letter, with a very fine copy of verses upon a subject perfectly new. Y : • Mr. Spectater, Dublin, Nov. 30, 1714. OU lately recommended to your female readers, the good old custom of their 'grandmothers, who used to lay out a great part of their time in needle-work: I entirely agree with you in your fentiments, and think ' it would not be of less advantage to them'selves, and their posterity, than to the reputation of many of their good neighbours, if they pass many of those hours in this innocent en 'tertainment, which are loft at the tea-table. I ' would, however, humbly offer to your confi ، deration, the case of the poetical ladies; who, 'though they may be willing to take any advice ' given them by the Spectator, yet cannot fo ' easily quit their pen and ink, as you may ima'gine. Pray allow them, at least now and then, ' to indulge themselves in other amusements of fancy, when they are tired with stooping to their tapestry. There is a very particular kind ' of work, which of late several ladies here in ' our kingdom are very fond of, which seems very well adapted to a poetical genius: it is the 'making of grotto's. I know a lady who has a very beautiful one, composed by herself, nor ' is there one shell in it not stuck up by her own ' hands. I here send you a poem to the fair ar'chitect, which I would not offer to herself, un'til I knew whether this method of a lady's paffing her time were approved of by the Bri ، THE SPЕСТАТOR. tish Speftator, which, with the poem, I fubmit to your cenfure, who am, Your constant reader and humble servant, A. B:' ic A gretto so complete, with such design, What hands, Calypso, could have forım'd but "thine? "Each chequer'd pebble, and each shining shell, So well proportion'd, and dispos'd fo well, Surprising luftre from thy thought receive, "Afsuming beauties more than nature gave. "To her their various shapes, and gloffy hue; "Their curious symmetry they owe to you. "Not fam'd Amphion's lute, whose pow'rful "call "Made willing ftones dance to the Theban wall, 1 In more harmonious ranks could make them " Not ev'ning cloud a brighter arch can show, et Nor richer colours paint the heav'nly bow. "Where can unpolish'd nature boast a piece, "In all her mossy cells exact as this? "At the gay parti-colour'd seene we start; "For chance too regular, too rude for art. "Charm'd with the fight, miy ravish'd breast is fir'd "With hints like those which ancient bards in" fpir'd; "All the feign'd tales by superstition told, "All the bright train of fabled nymphs of old, "Th' enthusiastic muse believes are true, "Thinks the spot facřed, and its genius you. "Loft in wild rapture, wou'd she fain difelofe, "How by degrees the pleasing wonder rose; "Industrious in a faithful verse to trace "The various beauties of the lovely place; And while the keeps the glowing work in view, Thro' ev'ry maze thy artful hand purfüe. "O were I equal to the bold design, "Or cou'd I boast such happy art as thinë! "That cou'd rude shells in fach sweet order place, "Give common objects such uncommon grace! Like them my well-chose words în ev'ry line, " As sweetly temper'd should as sweetly shine. "So just a fancy shờu'd my fhumber's warm, " Like the gay piece shou'd the description charm. " Then with fuperior strength my voice I'd " raise, The echoing grotto shou'd approve my lays, Pleas'd to reflect the well-fung founder's " praife. } 395 • flourishing states could give them, fell fo far short of the number of those who excelled in all other fciences. A friend of mine used merrily to apply to this case an observation of Herodotus, who says, that the most useful animals are the most fruitful in their genera ion; whereas the species of those beafts that are fierce and mischievous to mankind are but scarcely continued. The hiftorian instances in a hare, which always either breeds of brings forth; and a lionefs, which brings forth but once, and then loses all power of conception. But leaving my friend to his mirth, I am of • opinion, that in tliese latter ages we have great& er cause of complaint than the ancients had. And fince that folemn festival is approaching, which calls for all the power of oratory, and which affords as noble a fubject for the pulpit as any revelation has taught us, the design of this paper shall be to shew, that our moderns have greater advantages towards true and folid eloquence, than any which the celebrated speakers of antiquity enjoyed. ، The first great and substantial difference is, that their common-places, in which almost the whole force of amplification confifts, were drawn from the profit or honesty of the action, as they regarded only this present flate of duration. But Christianity, as it exalts morality to a greater perfection, as it brings the confideration of another life into the question, as • it proposes rewards and punishments of a higher • nature and a longer continuance, is more adapted to affect the minds of the audience, naturally inclined to pursue what it imagines its greatest interest and concern. If Pericles, as historians report, could shake the firmeft refolution of his hearers, and fet the paffions of all Greece in a ferment, when the present wel fare of his country, or the fear of hotile invasions, was the subject: what may be expected from that orator, who warns his audience againft those evils who have no remedy, • when once undergone, either from prudence ' or time? As much greater as the evils in a • future state are than these at present, so much ⚫ are the motives to perfuafion under Chriftia nity greater than those which mere moral con• fideration could fupply us with. But what I now mention relates only to the power of • moving the affections. There is another part • of eloquence, which is indeed its master-piece; I mean the marvellous or fublime: In this the christian orator has the advantage beyond contradiction. Our ideas are so infinitely enlarged by revelation, the eye of reason has so wide a prospect into eternity, the notions of a Deity are fo worthy and refined, and the accounts we have of a state of happiness or mifery so clear and evident, that the contemplation of fuch & objects will give our difcourse a noble vigour, an invincible force, beyond the power of any human confideration. Tully requires in his perfect orator fome skill in the nature of heavenly bodies, because, says he, his mind will • become more extensive and unconfined; and when he defcends to treat of human affairs, he will both think and write in a more exalted ⚫ and magnificent manner. For the fante reafon that excellent master would have recommended the study of those great and glorious mysteries which revelation has discovered to us; to which the noblest parts of this system of the world 3G2 <are ، ، ، ، ، are as much inferior as the creature is less excellent than its Creator. The wisest and most knowing among the heathens had very poor and imperfect notions of a future state. They had indeed some uncertain hopes, either received by tradition, or gathered by reason, that the existence of virtuous men would not be determined by the separation of foul and body: but they either disbelieved a future state of punishment and mifery; or, upon the fame account that Apelles painted Antigonus with one fide only towards the spectator, that the lofs of his eye might not caft a blemish upon the whole piece; so these represented the condition of man in its fairest view, and endeavoured to conceal what they thought was a deformity to human nature. I have often observed, that whenever the above-mentioned orator in his philofophical difcourses is led by his argument to the mention of immortality, he seems like one awaked out of fleep; roused and alarmed with the dignity of the fubject, he stretches his imagination to conceive fomething uncommon, and, with the greatness of his thoughts, cafts, as it were, a glory round the fentence. Uncertain and unfettled as he was, he seems fired with the contemplation of it. And nothing but fuch a glorious profpect could have forced fo great a lover of truth as he was, to declare his refolution never to part with his perfuafion • of immortality, tho' it should be proved to be an erroncous one. But had he lived to fee all that Christianity has brought to light, how would he have lavished out all the force of eloquence in those noblest contemplations which human nature is capable of, the refurrection and the judgment that follows it? How had his breaft glowed with pleasure, when the whole compass of futurity lay open and expofed to his view? How would his imagination have hurried him on in the pursuit of the mysteries of the incarnation? How would he have entered, with the force of lightning, into the affections of his hearers, and fixed their atten. tion, in spite of all the oppofition of corrupt nature, upon those glorious themes which his ' eloquence hath painted in such lively and lasting colours? 6 This advantage Christians have; and it was ' with no small pleafure I lately met with a fragment of Longinus, which is preferved, as a • teftimony of that critic's judgment, at the beginning of a manuscript of the New Teftament • in the Vatican library. After that author has numbered up the most celebrated orators among the Grecians, he fays, "add to these Paul of "Tarsus, the patron of an opinion not yer fully "proved." As a heathen, he condemns the ' to him, as to the God who invented and pre⚫ fided over eloquence. This one account of ' our apostle fets his character, confidered as an ، 6 orator only, above all the celebrated relations ' of the skill and influence of Demosthenes and his contemporaries. Their power in fpeaking was admired, but still it was thought human: their eloquence warmed and ravished the hear ers, but ftill it was thought the voice of man, not the voice of God. What advantage then had St. Paul above those of Greece or Rome?" I confefs I can ascribe this excellence to no'thing but the power of the doctrines he delivered, which may brave still the fame influence ، on the hearers; which have still the power, ' when preached by a fkilful orator, to make us break out in the fame expressions, as the dif ciples, who met our Saviour in their way to Emmaus, made use of; "did not our hearts "burn within us, when he talked to us by the "way, and while he opened to us the fcriptures?" 'I may be thought bold in my judgment by fome; 'but I must affirm, that no one orator has left ⚫us so visible marks and footsteps of his eloquence as our apostle. It may perhaps be won ، dered at, that in his reasonings upon idolatry 'at Athens, where eloquence was born and 'flourished, he confines himself to strict argument only; but my reader may remember what many authors of the best credit have affured us, that all attempts upon the affections and strokes of oratory were exprefly forbidden by the laws of that country, in courts of judicature. His want of eloquence therefore here, was the ef • fect of his exact conformity to the laws: but his difcourse on the refurrection to the Corin thians, his harangue before Agrippa upon his own converfion, and the neceffity of that of others, are truly great, and may ferve as full examples to those excellent rules for the fublime, which the best of critics has left us. The 'fum of all this discourse is, that our clergy have no farther to look for an example of the perfedion they may arrive at, tlian to St. Paul's harangues; that when he, under the want of 'several advantages of nature, as he himself tells us, was heard, admired, and made a standard to fucceeding ages by the best judges of a dif ferent perfuafion in religion, I fay, our clergy may learn, that, however instructive their fermons are, they are capable of receiving a great addition; which St. Pauf has given them a noble example of, and the Christian Religion has furnished them with certain means of at taining to.' Christian Religion, and, as an impartial critic, No. 634. FRIDAY, DECEMBER 170 he judges in favour of the promoter and preacher of it. To me it feems, that the latter part, ⚫ of his judgment adds great weight to his opinion of St. Paul's abilities, fince, under all the • prejudice of opinions directly oppofite, he is conftrained to acknowledge the merit of that apoftie. "And no doubt, fuch as Longinus de• scribes St. Paul, fuch he appeared to the inhabitants of those countries which he visited and • bleffed with shose doctrines he was divinely • commiffioned to preach. Sacred story gives us, • in one circumstance, a convincing proof of ⚫ his eloquence, when the men of Lystra called, 'him Mercury, "because he was the chief "speaker," and would lave paid divine worпір |