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midst of winter, be the first to remark that stuffs in all Alexandria understood so perfectly as she all are very much worn at Paris. If there be found the difficulties of these two philosophers. some irreparable defects in any part of your equipage, which can not be concealed by all the arts of sitting cross-legged, coaxing, or darning, say, that neither you nor Sampson Gideon were ever very fond of dress. Or if you be a philosopher, hint that Plato and Seneca are the tailors you ed to most enchanting eloquence, rendered this lady the wonder not only of the populace, who easily admire, but of philosophers themselves, who are seldom fond of admiration.
But not their systems alone, but those of every other sect were quite familiar to her; and to this knowledge she added that of polite learning, and the art of oratory. All the learning which it was possible for the human mind to contain, being join
choose to employ; assure the company, that men ought to be content with a bare covering, since what is now so much the pride of some, was formerly our shame. Horace will give you a Latin sentence fit for the occasion,
The city of Alexandria was every day crowded with strangers, who came from all parts of Greece and Asia to see and hear her. As for the charms of her person, they might not probably have been mentioned, did she not join to a beauty the most striking, a virtue that might repress the most as
In short, however caught, do not give up, but ascribe to the frugality of your disposition, what suming; and though in the whole capital, famed others might be apt to attribute to the narrowness for charms, there was not one who could equal her of your circumstances, and appear rather to be a in beauty; though in a city, the resort of all the miser than a beggar. To be poor, and to seem learning then existing in the world, there was not poor, is a certain method never to rise. Pride in one who could equal her in knowledge; yet, with the great is hateful, in the wise it is ridiculous; such accomplishments, Hypasia was the most beggarly pride is the only sort of vanity I can ex-modest of her sex. Her reputation for virtue was not less than her virtues; and though in a city divided between two factions, though visited by the wits and the philosophers of the age, calumny never dared to suspect her morals, or attempt her character. Both the Christians and the Heathens who have transmitted her history and her misfortunes,
THE HISTORY OF HYPASIA.
MAN, when secluded from society, is not a more have but one voice, when they speak of her beauty, solitary being than the woman who leaves the du- her knowledge, and her virtue. Nay, so much ties of her own sex to invade the privileges of ours. harmony reigns in their accounts of this prodigy of She seems, in such circumstances, like one in ban-perfection, that, in spite of the opposition of their ishment; she appears like a neutral being between faith, we should never have been able to judge of the sexes; and, though she may have the admira- what religion was Hypasia, were we not informed, tion of both, she finds true happiness from neither. from other circumstances, that she was a heathen.
Toga defendere frigus,
Of all the ladies of antiquity I have read of, none Providence had taken so much pains in forming was ever more justly celebrated than the beautiful her, that we are almost induced to complain of its Hypasia, the daughter of Leon, the philosopher. not having endeavoured to make her a Christian; This most accomplished of women was born at but from this complaint we are deterred by a thouAlexandria, in the reign of Theodosius the young-sand contrary observations, which lead us to reverer. Nature was never more lavish of its gifts than ence its inscrutable mysteries.
it had been to her, endued as she was with the most exalted understanding, and the happiest turn to science. Education completed what nature had begun, and made her the prodigy not only of her age, but the glory of her sex.
This great reputation of which she so justly was possessed, was at last, however, the occasion of her ruin.
The person who then possessed the patriarchate of Alexandria, was equally remarkable for his From her father she learned geometry and as-violence, cruelty, and pride. Conducted by an illtronomy; she collected from the conversation and grounded zeal for the Christian religion, or, perschools of the other philosophers, for which Alex-haps, desirous of augmenting his authority in the andria was at that time famous, the principles of city, he had long meditated the banishment of the the rest of the sciences. Jews. A difference arising between them and the What can not be conquered by natural penetra-Christians with respect to some public games, seemtion, and a passion for study? The boundless ed to him a proper juncture for putting his ambi knowledge which, at that period of time, was re-tious designs into execution. He found no difficul quired form the character of a philosopher, no ty in exciting the people, naturally disposed to re way discouraged her; she delivered herself up to volt. The prefect, who at that time commanded ne study of Aristotle and Plato, and soon not one the city, interposed on this occasion, and thought
t just to put one of the chief creatures of the patri- returning from a visit, at her own door, seized her arch to the torture, in order to discover the first as she was going in, and dragged her to one of the promoter of the conspiracy. The patriarch, en-churches called Cesarea, where, stripping her in a raged at the injustice he thought offered to his most inhuman manner, they exercised the most incharacter and dignity, and piqued at the protection human cruelties upon her, cut her into pieces, and which was offered to the Jews, sent for the chiefs burnt her remains to ashes. Such was the end of of the synagogue, and enjoined them to renounce Hypasia, the glory of her own sex, and the astontheir designs, upon pain of incurring his highest ishment of ours.
ON JUSTICE AND GENEROSITY.
The Jews, far from fearing his menaces, excited new tumults, in which several citizens had the misfortune to fall. The patriarch could no longer contain: at the head of a numerous body of Christians, LYSIPPUS is a man whose greatness of soul the he flew to the synagogues, which he demolished, whole world admires. His generosity is such, that and drove the Jews from a city, of which they had it prevents a demand, and saves the receiver the been possessed since the times of Alexander the trouble and the confusion of a request. His liberGreat. It may be easily imagined, that the pre-ality also does not oblige more by its greatness than fect could not behold, without pain, his jurisdiction by his inimitable grace in giving. Sometimes he thus insulted, and the city deprived of a number of even distributes his bounties to strangers, and has its most industrious inhabitants. been known to do good offices to those who professed themselves his enemies. All the world are unanimous in the praise of his generosity: there is only one sort of people who complain of his conduct-Lysippus does not pay his debts.
It is no difficult matter to account for a conduct
The affair was therefore brought before the emperor. The patriarch complained of the excesses of the Jews, and the prefect of the outrages of the patriarch. At this very juncture, five hundred monks of mount Nitria, imagining the life of their chief to be in danger, and that their religion was so seemingly incompatible with itself. There is threatened in his fall, flew into the city with un- greatness in being generous, and there is only governable rage, attacked the prefect in the streets, simple justice in satisfying his creditors. Generosiand, not content with loading him with reproaches, ty is the part of a soul raised above the vulgar. wounded him in several places. There is in it something of what we admire in heroes, and praise with a degree of rapture. Justice, on the contrary, is a mere mechanic virtue, fit only for tradesmen, and what is practised by every broker in Change Alley.
The citizens had, by this time, notice of the fury of the monks; they, therefore, assembled in a body, put the monks to flight, seized on him who had been found throwing a stone, and delivered him to the prefect, who caused him to be put to death without further delay.
In paying his debts, a man barely does his duty, and it is an action attended with no sort of glory. Should Lysippus satisfy his creditors, who would be at the pains of telling it to the world? Generosi
The patriarch immediately ordered the dead body, which had been exposed to view, to be taken down, procured for it all the pomp and rites of ty is a virtue of a very different complexion. It burial, and went even so far as himself to pronounce is raised above duty, and from its elevation attracts the funeral oration, in which he classed a seditious the attention, and the praises, of us little mortals monk among the martyrs. This conduct was by no means generally approved of; the most moder- In this manner do men generally reason upon ate even among the Christians perceived and blamed justice and generosity. The first is despised, his indiscretion; but he was now too far advanced though a virtue essential to the good of society; to retire. He had made several overtures towards a and the other attracts our esteem, which too frereconciliation with the prefect, which not succeed-quently proceeds from an impetuosity of temper, ing, he bore all those an implacable hatred whom he rather directed by vanity than reason. Lysippus imagined to have any hand in traversing his de- is told that his banker asks a debt of forty pounds, signs; but Hypasia was particularly destined to and that a distressed acquaintance petitions for the ruin. She could not find pardon, as she was known same sum. He gives it without hesitating to the to have a most refined friendship for the prefect; latter; for he demands as a favour what the former wherefore the populace were incited against her. requires as a debt. Peter, a reader of the principal church, one of those vile slaves by which men in power are too frequent-ed ly attended, wretches ever ready to commit any monly believed to consist only in a performance of crime which they hope may render them agreeable those duties to which the laws of society can oblige to their employer; this fellow, I say, attended by a us. This I allow is sometimes the import of the crowd of villains, waited for Hypasia, as she was word, and in this sense justice is distinguished
Mankind in general are not sufficiently acquaint with the import of the word justice: it is com
from equity; but there is a justice still more extensive, and which can be shown to embrace all the virtues united. Justice may be defined to be that virtue which and, by a skilful management of his vineyard, had impels us to give to every person what is his due. the good fortune to acquire immense sums of money. In this extended sense of the word, it comprehends The inhabitants of Rheims, who were his fellowthe practice of every virtue which reason prescribes, citizens, detested him, and the populace, who selor society should expect. Our duty to our Maker, dom love a miser, wherever he went, received him to each other, and to ourselves, are fully answered, with contempt. He still, however, continued his if we give them what we owe them. Thus justice, former simplicity of life, his amazing and unremitproperly speaking, is the only virtue, and all the ted frugality. This good man had long perceived rest have their origin in it. the wants of the poor in the city, particularly in The qualities of candour, fortitude, charity, and having no water but what they were obliged to buy generosity, for instance, are not, in their own na-at an advanced price; wherefore, that whole fortune ture, virtues; and if ever they deserve the title, it which he had been amassing, he laid out in an is owing only to justice, which impels and directs aqueduct, by which he did the poor more useful them. Without such a moderator, candour might and lasting service than if he had distributed his become indiscretion, fortitude obstinacy, charity whole income in charity every day at his door. imprudence, and generosity mistaken profusion.
A disinterested action, if it be not conducted by justice, is at best indifferent in its nature, and not unfrequently even turns to vice. The expenses of society, of presents, of entertainments, and the other helps to cheerfulness, are actions merely indifferent, when not repugnant to a better method of disposing of our superfluities; but they become vicious when they obstruct or exhaust our abilities from a more virtuous disposition of our circumstances.
Among men long conversant with books, we too frequently find those misplaced virtues of which I have been now complaining. We find the studious animated with a strong passion for the great virtues, as they are mistakenly called, and utterly forgetful of the ordinary ones. The declamations of philosophy are generally rather exhausted on these supererogatory duties, than on such as are indispensably necessary. A man, therefore, who has taken his ideas of mankind from study alone, generally comes into the world with a heart melting at every fictitious distress. Thus he is induced, by misplaced liberality, to put himself into the indigent circumstances of the persons he relieves.
1 shall conclude this paper with the advice of one of the ancients, to a young man whom he saw giving away all his substance to pretended distress. "It is possible that the person you relieve may be an honest man; and I know that you who relieve Misers are generally characterized as men with him are such. You see, then, by your generosity, out honour or without humanity, who live only to you only rob a man who is certainly deserving, to accumulate, and to this passion sacrifice every other bestow it on one who may possibly be a rogue; and happiness. They have been described as madmen, while you are unjust in rewarding uncertain merit, who, in the midst of abundance, banish every you are doubly guilty by stripping yourself." pleasure, and make from imaginary wants real necessities. But few, very few, correspond to this exaggerated picture; and, perhaps, there is not one in whom all these circumstances are found united. Instead of this, we find the sober and the industrious branded by the vain and the idle with this odious appellation; men who, by frugality and labour, raise themselves above their equals, and contribute their share of industry to the common stock.
True generosity is a duty as indispensably necessary as those imposed upon us by law. It is a rule imposed upon us by reason, which should be the sovereign law of a rational being. But this generosity does not consist in obeying every impulse of humanity, in following blind passion for our guide, and impairing our circumstances by present benefactions, so as to render us incapable of future ones.
A French priest, whose name was Godinot, went for a long time by the name of the Griper. He refused to relieve the most apparent wretchedness,
PARTICULARS RELATING TO
Primus mortales tollere contra Est oculos ausus, primusque assurgere contra. Lucr. THE Spanish nation has, for many centuries past, been remarkable for the grossest ignorance in Whatever the vain or the ignorant may say, well polite literature, especially in point of natural phiwere it for society had we more of this character losophy; a science so useful to mankind, that her anong us. In general, these close men are found neighbours have ever esteemed it a matter of the at last the true benefactors of society. With an greatest importance to endeavour, by repeated exavaricious man we seldom lose in our dealings; periments, to strike a light out of the chaos in which but too frequently in our commerce with prodi- truth seemed to be confounded. Their curiosity gality. in this respect was so indifferent, that though thes
nad discovered new worlds, they were at a loss to possible to repeat all the agreeable delusions in explain the phenomena of their own, and their which a disappointed author is apt to find comfort. pride so unaccountable, that they disdained to bor-I conclude, that what my reputation wants in exrow from others that instruction which their natural tent, is made up by its solidity. Minus juvat Gloria lata quam magna. I have great satisfaction in indolence permitted them not to acquire. It gives me, however, a secret satisfaction to be- considering the delicacy and discernment of those hold an extraordinary genius, now existing in that readers I have, and in ascribing my want of popu nation, whose studious endeavours seem calcu-larity to the ignorance or inattention of those I lated to undeceive the superstitious, and instruct have not. All the world may forsake an author, the ignorant; I mean the celebrated Padre Freijo. but vanity will never forsake him. In unravelling the mysteries of nature and explaining physical experiments, he takes an opportunity of displaying the concurrence of second causes in those very wonders, which the vulgar ascribe to supernatural influence.
An example of this kind happened a few years ago in a small town of the kingdom of Valencia. or body of people would be displeased at my rashPassing through at the hour of mass, he alightedness. The sun, after so sad an accident, might from his mule, and proceeded to the parish church, shine next morning as bright as usual; men might which he found extremely crowded, and there ap-laugh and sing the next day, and transact business peared on the faces of the faithful a more than usual as before, and not a single creature feel any regret alacrity. The sun it seems, which had been for but myself. I reflected upon the story of a minister, who, in some minutes under a cloud, had begun to shine on a large crucifix, that stood in the middle of the the reign of Charles II., upon a certain occasion, The resigned all his posts, and retired into the country altar, studded with several precious stones. reflection from these, and from the diamond eyes in a fit of resentment. But as he had not given the of some silver saints, so dazzled the multitude, that world entirely up with his ambition, he sent a mesthey unanimously cried out, A miracle! a miracle! senger to town, to see how the courtiers would bear whilst the priest at the altar, with seeming con- his resignation. Upon the messenger's return he sternation, continued his heavenly conversation. was asked, whether there appeared any commotion Padre Freijo soon dissipated the charm, by tying at court? To which he replied, There were very his handkerchief round the head of one of the stat- great ones. "Ay," says the minister, "I knew ues, for which he was arraigned by the inquisition; my friends would make a bustle ; all petitioning the whose flames, however, he has had the good for-king for my restoration, I presume." "No, sir," replied the messenger, "they are only petitioning tunc hitherto to escape. his majesty to be put in your place." In the same manner, should I retire in indignation, instead of having Apollo in mourning, or the Muses in a fit of the spleen; instead of having the learned world apostrophizing at my untimely decease, perhaps all Grub-street might laugh at my fall, and self-approving dignity might never be able to shield me from ridicule. In short, I am resolved to write on, if it were only to spite them. If the present generation will not hear my voice, hearken, O posterity, to you I call, and from you I expect redress! What rapture will it not give to have the Scaligers, Daciers, and Warburtons of future times commenting with admiration upon every line I now write, working away those ignorant creatures who offer
WERE I to measure the merit of my present undertaking by its success, or the rapidity of its sale, 1 might be led to form conclusions by no means favourable to the pride of an author. Should I estimate my fame by its extent, every newspaper and magazine would leave me far behind. Their fame to arraign my merit, with all the virulence of learnis diffused in a very wide circle, that of some as far as Islington, and some yet farther still; while mine, I sincerely believe, has hardly travelled beyond the sound of Bow-bell; and while the works of others fly like unpinioned swans, I find my own move as heavily as a new plucked goose.
ed reproach. Ay, my friends, let them feel it: call names, never spare them; they deserve it all, and ten times more. I have been told of a critic, who was crucified at the command of another to the reputation of Homer. That, no doubt, was more than poetical justice, and I shall be perfectly content if those who criticise me are only clapped in
Still, however, I have as much pride as they
who have ten times as many readers. It is im-the pillory, kept fifteen days upon bread and water
THE BEE No. IV.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1759.
Yet, notwithstanding so sincere a confession, I was once induced to show my indignation against the public, by discontinuing my endeavours to please; and was bravely resolved, like Raleigh, to vex them by burning my manuscript in a passion. Upon recollection, however, I considered what set
and obliged to run the gantlet through Paternoster- at last overcame my prudence, and determined me The truth is, I can expect happiness from to endeavour to please by the goodness of my enposterity either way. If I write ill, happy in being tertainment, rather than by the magnificence of my forgotten; if well, happy in being remembered with sign. respect.
The Spectator, and many succeeding essayists, Yet, considering things in a prudential light, frequently inform us of the numerous compliments perhaps I was mistaken in designing my paper as paid them in the course of their lucubrations; of an agreeable relaxation to the studious, or a help to the frequent encouragements they met to inspire conversation among the gay; instead of addressing them with ardour, and increase their eagerness to it to such, I should have written down to the taste please. I have received my letters as well as they; and apprehension of the many, and sought for re- but alas! not congratulatory ones; not assuring me putation on the broad road. Literary fame, I now of success and favour; but pregnant with bodings find, like religious, generally begins among the vul- that might shake even fortitude itself. gar. As for the polite, they are so very polite as One gentleman assures me, he intends to throw never to applaud upon any account. One of these, away no more threepences in purchasing the BEE; with a face screwed up into affectation, tells you, and, what is still more dismal, he will not recomthat fools may admire, but men of sense only ap- mend me as a poor author wanting encouragement prove. Thus, lest he should rise in rapture at any to his neighbourhood, which, it seems, is very nuthing new, he keeps down every passion but pride merous. Were my soul set upon threepences, and self-importance; approves with phlegm; and what anxiety might not such a denunciation prothe poor author is damned in the taking a pinch of duce! But such does not happen to be the present snuff. Another has written a book himself, and motive of publication; I write partly to show my being condemned for a dunce, he turns a sort of good-nature, and partly to show my vanity; nor king's evidence in criticism, and now becomes the will I lay down the pen till I am satisfied one way terror of every offender. A third, possessed of full- or another. grown reputation, shades off every beam of favour Others have disliked the title and the motto of from those who endeavour to grow beneath him, my paper; point out a mistake in the one, and asand keeps down that merit, which, but for his in- sure me the other has been consigned to dulness fluence, might rise into equal eminence: while by anticipation. All this may be true; but what others, still worse, peruse old books for their amuse- is that to me? Titles and mottos to books are like ment, and new books only to condemn; so that escutcheons and dignities in the hands of a king. the public seem heartily sick of all but the busi- The wise sometimes condescend to accept of them; ness of the day, and read every thing now with as but none but a fool will imagine them of any real little attention as they examine the faces of the importance. We ought to depend upon intrinsic passing crowd. merit, and not the slender helps of title. Nam quæ non fecimus ipsi, vix ca nostra voco.
From these considerations, I was once determined to throw off all connexions with taste, and For my part, I am ever ready to mistrust a profairly address my countrymen in the same engag-mising title, and have, at some expense, been ining style and manner with other periodical pam-structed not to hearken to the voice of an advertise phlets, much more in vogue than probably mine ment, let it plead never so loudly, or never so long. shall ever be. To effect this, I had thoughts of A countryman coming one day to Smithfield, in changing the title into that of the ROYAL BEE, the order to take a slice of Bartholomew-fair, found a ANTI-GALLICAN BEE, or the BEE'S MAGAZINE. I perfect show before every booth. The drummer, had laid in a proper stock of popular topics, such the fire-eater, the wire-walker, and the salt-box, as encomiums on the King of Prussia, invectives were all employed to invite him in. "Just a-going; against the Queen of Hungary and the French, the court of the king of Prussia in all his glory: the necessity of a militia, our undoubted sovereignty pray, gentlemen, walk in and see." From people of the seas, reflections upon the present state of af- who generously gave so much away, the clown exfairs, a dissertation upon liberty, some seasonable pected a monstrous bargain for his money when thoughts upon the intended bridge of Blackfriars, he got in. He steps up, pays his sixpence, the and an address to Britons; the history of an old curtain is drawn; when, too late, he finds that he woman, whose teeth grew three inches long, an had the best part of the show for nothing at the de upon our victories, a rebus, an acrostic upon door. Miss Peggy P., and a journal of the weather. All this, together with four extraordinary pages of letter-press, a beautiful map of England, and two prints curiously coloured from nature, I fancied might touch their very souls. I was actually be- EVERY country has its traditions, which, either ginning an address to the people, when my pride too minute, or not sufficiently authentic to receive
A FLEMISH TRADITION.