Voice, desired them to look upon a man not used to beg.' The latter received the charity of almost every one that went by. The strings of the heart, which are to be touched to give us compassion, are not so played on but by the finest hand. We see in tragical representations, it is not the pomp of language, nor the magnificence of dress, in which the passion is wrought that touches sensible spirits; but something of a plain and simple nature, which breaks in upon our souls by that sympathy which is given us for our mutual good-will and service.

In the tragedy of Macbeth,' where Wilks acts the part of a man whose family has been murdered in his absence, the wildness of his passion, which is run over in a torrent of calamitous circumstances, does but raise my spirits, and give me the alarm; but when he skilfully seems to be out of breath, and is brought too low to say more; and upon a second reflection cries only, wiping his eyes,What, both children! Both, both my children gone!' there is no resisting a sorrow which seems to have cast about for all the reasons possible for its consolation, but has no resource, There is not one left; but both, both are murdered!' such sudden starts from the thread of the discourse and a plain sentiment expressed in an artless way, are the irresistible strokes of eloquence and poetry. The same great master, Shakspeare, can afford us instances of all the places where our souls

are accessible, and ever commands our tears. But it is to be observed, that he draws them from some unexpected source, which seems not wholly of a piece with the discourse. Thus, when Brutus and Cassius had a debate in the tragedy of Caesar,' and rose to warm language against each other, insomuch that it had almost come to something that might be fatal, until they recollected themselves; Brutus does more than make an apology for the heat he had been in by saying, Portia is dead.' Here Cassius is all tenderness, and ready to dissolve, when he considers that the mind of his friend had been employed on the greatest affliction imaginable, when he had been adding to it by a debate on trifles; which makes him, in the anguish of his heart, cry out, How 'scaped I killing, when I thus provoked you? This is an incident which moves the soul in all its sentiments; and Cassius's heart was at once touched with all the soft pangs of pity, remorse, and reconciliation. It is said, indeed, by Horace, 'If you would have me weep, you must first weep yourself. This is not literally true; for it would have been as rightly said, if we observe nature, That I shall certainly weep if you do not; but what is intended by that expression is, that it is not possible to give passion, except you show that you suffer yourself. Therefore, the true art seems to be, that when you would have the person you represent pitied, you must show him at once in the highest grief, and struggling to bear it with decency and patience. In this case we sigh for him, and give him every groan he suppresses.

I remember, when I was young enough to follow the sports of the field, I have more than once rode off at the death of a deer, when I have seen the animal, in an affliction which appeared human, without the least noise, let fall tears when he was reduced to extremity; and I have thought of the sorrow I saw him in, when his haunch came to the table. But our tears are not given only to objects of pity, but the mind has recourse to that relief in all occasions which give us great emotion. Thus, to be apt to shed tears is a sign of a great as well as a little spirit. I have heard say, the present pope never passes through the people, who always kneel in crowds, and ask his be

nediction, but the tears are seen to flow from his eyes. This must proceed from an imagination that he is the father of all those people; and that he is touched with so extensive a benevolence, that it breaks out into a passion of tears. You see friends, who have been long absent, transported in the same manner : a thousand little images crowd upon them at their meeting, as all the joys and griefs they have known during their separation; and, in one hurry of thought, they conceive how they should have participated in those occasions; and weep, because their minds are too full to wait the slow expression of words. His lacrymis vitam damus, et miserescimus ultro. Virg. Æn. ii. 145. With tears the wretch confirm'd his tale of woe, And soft-ey'd pity pleaded for the foe. R. Wynne.

There is lately broke loose from the London packs a very tall dangerous biter. He is now at the Bath, and it is feared will make a damnable havoc amongst the game. His manner of biting is new, and he is called the Top. He secures one die betwixt his twó fingers: the other is fixed, by the help of a famous wax, invented by an apothecary, since à gamester: a little of which he puts upon his fore-finger, and that holds the die in the box at his devotion. Great sums have been lately won by these ways; but it is hoped, that this hint of his manner of cheating will open the eyes of many who are every day imposed upon.

There is now in the press, and will be suddenly published, a book entitled, An Appendix to the Contempt of the Clergy; wherein will be set forth at large, that all our dissensions are owing to the laziness of persons in the sacred ministry, and that none of the present schisms could have crept into the flock, but by the negligence of the pastors. There is a digression in this treatise, proving, that the pre tences made by the priesthood, from time to time, that the church was in danger, is only a trick to make the laity passionate for that of which they themselves have been negligent. The whole concludes with an exhortation to the clergy, to the study of eloquence, and practice of piety, as the only method to support the highest of all honours, that of a priest who lives and acts according to his character.

No. 69.] SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1709.
-Quid oportet

Nos facere, à vulgo longe latéque remotos?
Hor. 1 Sat. v. i. 17.

But how shall we, who differ far and wide,
From the mere vulgar, this great point decide.
Francis.

From my own Apartment, September 16. Ir is, as far as it relates to our present being, the great end of education to raise ourselves above the vulgar; but what is intended by the vulgar, is not, methinks, enough understood. In me, indeed, that word raises a quite different idea from what it usually does in others; but perhaps that proceeds from my being old, and beginning to want the relish of such satisfactions as are the ordinary entertainment of men. However, such as my opinion is in this case, I will speak it; because it is possible that turn of thought may be received by others, who may reap as much satisfaction from it as I do myself.

It is to me a very great meanness, and something much below a philosopher, which is what I mean by a gentleman, to rank a man among the vulgar for the condition of life he is in, and net according to his

behaviour, his thoughts, and sentiments, in that condition. For if a man be loaded with riches and honours, and in that state of life has thoughts and inclinations below the meanest artificer; is not such an artificer, who, within his power, is good to his friends, moderate in his demands for his labour, and cheerful in his occupation, very much superior to him who lives for no other end but to serve himself, and assumes a preference in all his words and actions to those who act their part with much more grace than himself? Epictetus has made use of the similitude of a stage-play to human life with much spirit. It is not,' says he, to be considered among the actors, who is prince, or who is beggar, but who acts prince or beggar best.' The circumstance of life should not be that which gives us place, but our behaviour in that circumstance is what should be our solid distinction. Thus a wise man should think no man above him or below him, any further than it regards the outward order or discipline of the world: for, if we conceive too great an idea of the eminence of our superiors, or subordination of our inferiors, it will have an ill effect upon our behaviour to both. He who thinks no man above him but for his virtue, none below him but for his vice, can never be obsequious or assuming in a wrong place; but will frequently emulate men in rank below him, and pity those above him.

This sense of mankind is so far from a levelling principle, that it only sets us upon a true basis of distinction, and doubles the merit of such as become their condition.

A man in power, who can, without the ordinary prepossessions which stop the way to the true knowledge and service of mankind, overlook the little distinctions of fortune, raise obscure merit, and discountenance successful indesert, has, in the minds of knowing men, the figure of an angel rather than a man; and is above the rest of men in the highest character he can be, even that of their benefactor.

Turning my thoughts, as I was taking my pipe this evening, after this manner, it was no small delight to me to receive advice from Felicia, that Eboracensis was appointed a governor of one of their plantations. As I am a great lover of mankind, I took part in the happiness of that people who were to be governed by one of so great humanity, justice, and honour. Eboracensis has read all the schemes which writers have formed of government and order, and has been long conversant with men who have the reins in their hands; so that he can very well distinguish between chimerical and practical politics. It is a great blessing, when men have to deal with such different characters in the same species as those of freemen and slaves, that they who command have a just sense of human nature itself, by which they can temper the haughtiness of the master, and soften the servitude of the slave-Hæ tibi erunt artes.' This is the notion with which those of the plantation receive Eboracensis: and as I have cast his nativity, I find there will be a record made of this person's administration; and on that part of the shore from whence he embarks to return from his government, there will be a monument, with these words: Here the people wept, and took leave of Eboracensis, the first governor our mother Felicia sent, who, during his command here, believed himself her subject.'

White's Chocolate-house, September 16. The following letter wants such sudden despatch, that all things else must wait for this time:

SIR, Sep. 13, Equal day and night. 'There are two ladies, who, having a good opinion of your taste and judgment, desire you to make use of them in the following particular, which perhaps you may allow very extraordinary. The two ladies before-mentioned have, a considerable time since, contracted a more sincere and constant friendship than their adversaries, the men, will allow consistent with the frailty of female nature; and being, from a long acquaintance, convinced of the perfect agreement of their tempers, have thought upon an expedient to prevent their separation, and cannot think any so effectual (since it is common for love to destroy friendship) as to give up both their liberties to the same person in marriage. The gentleman they have pitched upon is neither well bred nor agreeable, his understanding moderate, and his person never designed to charm women; but having so much sellinterest in his nature, as to be satisfied with making double contracts, upon condition of receiving double fortunes; and most men being so far sensible of the uneasiness that one woman occasions; they think him, for these reasons, the most likely person of their acquaintance to receive these proposals. Upon al other accounts, he is the last man either of them would choose, yet for this, preferable to all the rest. They desire to know your opinion the next post, resolving to defer farther proceeding, until they have received it. 'I am, Sir,

'Your unknown, unthought of, humble servant,

'BRIDGET EITHERSIDE"

This is very extraordinary; and much might be objected by me, who am something of a civilian, to the case of two marrying the same man: but these ladies, are, I perceive, free-thinkers; and therefore I shall speak only to the prudential part of this design, merely as a philosopher, without entering into the merit of it in the ecclesiastical or civil law. These constant friends, Piladea and Orestea, are at a loss to preserve their friendship from the encroachments of love: for which end they have resolved upon a fellow who cannot be the object of affection or esteem to either, and consequently cannot rob one of the place each has in her friend's heart. But in all my reading (and I have read all that the sages of love have writ) I have found the greatest danger in jealousy. The ladies, indeeed, to avoid this passion, choose a sad fellow; but if they would be advised by me, they had better have each her worthless man; otherwise, he that was despicable, while he was indifferent to them, will become valuable when he seems to prefer one to the other.

I remember in the history of Don Quixote of la Mancha, there is a memorable passage, which opens to us the weakness of our nature in such particulars. The Don falls into discourse with a gentleman, whom he calls the Knight of the Green Cassock,' and is invited to his house. When he comes there, he runs into discourse and panegyric upon the economy, the government, and order of his family, the education of his childres, and, lastly, on the singular wisdom of him who disposed things with that exactness. The gentleman makes a soliloquy to himself: O irresistible power of flattery! Though I know this is a mad man, I cannot help being taken with his applause.' The ladies will find this much more true in the case of their lover; and the woman he most likes will certainly be more pleased, she whom he slights more offended, than she can imagine before she has tried. Now, I humbly propose, that they both marry coxcombs whom they are sure they cannot like, and then they

orator; so the performances of these gentlemen never appear with so little grace, and to so much disadvantage, as when delivered by themselves from the pulpit. Hippocrates, being sent for to a patient in this city, and, having felt his pulse, enquired into the symptoms of his distemper; and finding that it proceeded in great measure from want of sleep, advises his patient with an air of gravity, to be carried to church to hear a sermon, not doubting but that it would dispose him for the rest he wanted. If some of the rules Horace gives for the theatre were (not improperly) applied to our pulpits, we should not hear a sermon prescribed as a good opiate. Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipse tibi— If you would have me weep, begin the strain. Francis. A man must himself express some concern and affection in delivering his discourse, if he expects his auditory should interest themselves in what he poses. For, otherwise, notwithstanding the dignity and importance of the subject he treats of; notwithstanding the weight and argument of the discourse itself; yet too many will say,

Hor. Ars Poet. v. 102.

Male si mandata loquêris, Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo

pro

Hor. Ars Poet. ver. 104.

'But if, unmov'd, you act not what you say, I'll sleep, or laugh the lifeless theme away.' 'If there be a deficiency in the speaker, there will not be a sufficient attention and regard paid to the thing spoken: but, Mr. Bickerstaff, you know, that as too little action is cold, so too much is fulsome. Some, indeed, may think themselves accomplished speakers for no other reason than because they can be loud and noisy; for surely Stentor must have some design in his vociferations. But, dear Mr. Bickerstaff, convince them, that as harsh and irregular sound is not harmony; so neither is banging a cushion, oratory; and, therefore, in my humble opinion, a certain divine of the first order, whom I allow otherwise to be a great man, would do well to leave this off; for I think his sermons would be more persuasive, if he gave his auditory less disturbance. Though I cannot say that this action would be wholly improper to a profane oration; yet, I think, in a religious assembly, it gives a man too warlike, or perhaps too theatrical a figure, to be suitable to a christian congregation. I am, Sir,

Your humble servant, &c.' The most learned and ingenious Mr. Rosehat is also pleased to write to me on this subject.

SIR,

'I read with great pleasure, in the Tatler of Saturday last, the conversation upon eloquence; permit me to hint to you one thing the great Roman orator observes upon this subject; Caput enim arbitrabatur oratoris (he quotes Menedemus, an Athenian,) ut ipsis apud quos ageret talis qualem ipse optaret videretur; id fieri vitæ dignitate. (Tull. de Orat.) It is the first rule in oratory, that a man must appear such as he would persuade others to be; and that can be accomplished only by the force of his life. I believe it might be of great service to let our public orators know, that an unnatural gravity or an unbecoming levity in their behaviour out of the pulpit, will take very much from the force of their

eloquence in it. Excuse another scrap of Latin; it is from one of the fathers: I think it will appear a just observation to all, and it may have authority with some: Qui autem docent tantùm, nec facient ipsi præceptis suis detrahunt pondus: quis enim obtemperet, cum ipsi præceptores doceam non obtemperare? Those who teach, but do not act agreeably to the instructions they give to others, take away all weight from their doctrine: for who will obey the precepts they inculcate, if they themselves teach us by their practice to disobey them?

'I am, Sir,

Your most humble Servant,
'JONATHAN ROSEHAT,

'P. S. You were complaining in that paper, that the clergy of Great Britain had not yet learned to speak; a very great defect indeed: and therefore, I shall think myself a well-deserver of the church, in recommending all the dumb clergy to the famous speaking doctor at Kensington. This ingenious gentleman, out of compassion to those of a bad utterance, has placed his whole study in the newmodelling the organs of voice; which art he has so far advanced, as to be able even to make a good orator of a pair of bellows. He lately exhibited a specimen of his skill in this way, of which I was informed by the worthy gentlemen then present; who were at once delighted and amazed to hear an instrument of so simple an organization use an exact articulation of words, a just cadency in its sentences, and a wonderful pathos in its pronunciation: not that he designs to expatiate in this practice; because he cannot, as he says, apprehend what use it may be of to mankind, whose benefit he aims at in a more particular manner: and, for the same reason, he will never more instruct the feathered kind, the parrot having been his last scholar in that way. He has a wonderful faculty in making and mending echoes: and this he will perform at any time for the use of the solitary in the country; being a man boru for universal good, and for that reason recommended to your patronage by, Sir,

'Yours, &c,'

Another learned gentleman gives me also this encomium;

་

You are now got into a useful and noble subject; take care to handle it with judgment and delicacy. I wish every young divine would give yours of Saturday last a serious perusal; and now you are entered upon the action of an orator, if you would proceed to favour the world with some remarks on the mystical enchantments of pronunciation, what a secret force there is in the accents of a tunable voice, and wherefore the works of two very great men of the profession could never please so well when read as heard, I shall trouble you with no more scribble. You are now in the method of being truly profitable and delightful. If you can keep up such great and sublime subjects, and pursue them with a suitable genius, go on and prosper. Farewell.'

White's Chocolate-house, September 19. This was left for me here, for the use of the company of the house:

་ TO ISAAC BICKERSTAFF, ESQ. 'SIR, September, 15. 'The account you gave lately of a certain dog

kennel in or near Suffolk-street, was not so punctual, as to the list of the dogs, as might have been expected from a person of Mr. Bickerstaff's intelligence; for, if you will despatch Pacolet thither some evening, it is ten to one but he finds, besides those you mentioned,

Towzer, a large French mongrel, that was not long ago in a tattered condition, but has now got new hair; is not fleet, but, when he grapples, bites even to the Spring, a little French greyhound, that lately made a false trip to Tunbridge.

marrow.

'Sly, an old battered fox-hound, that began the game in France.

Lightfoot, a fine skinned Flanders dog, that belonged to a pack at Ghent; but, having lost flesh, is gone to Paris, for the benefit of the air.

With several others, that in time may be worth notice.

Your familiar will see also, how anxious the keepers are about the prey, and, indeed, not without very good reason, for they have their share of every thing; nay, not so much as a poor rabbit can be run down, but these carnivorous curs swallow a quarter of it. Some mechanics in the neighbourhood, that have entered into this civil society, and who furnish part of the carrion and oatmeal for the dogs, have the

skin; and the bones are picked clean by a little French shock that belongs to the family, &c. 'I am, Sir,

'Your humble servant, &c. 'I had almost forgot to tell you, that Ringwood bites at Hampstead with false teeth.

No. 71.] THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1709.

From my own Apartment, September 21. I HAVE long been, against my inclination, employed in satire, and that in persecution of such persons, who are below the dignity of the true spirit of it; such who, I fear, are not to be reclaimed by making them only ridiculous. The sharpers shall, therefore, have a month's time to themselves, free from the observation of this paper; but I must not make a truce without letting them know, that, at the same time, I am preparing for a more vigorous war: for a friend of mine has promised me he will employ his time in compiling such a tract, before the session of the ensuing parliament, as shall lay gaming home to the bosoms of all who love their country or their families; and he doubts not but it will create an act, that shall make these rogues as scandalous as those less mischievous ones on the high road.

I have received private intimations to take care of my walks, and remember there are such things as stabs and blows: but as there never was any thing in this design which ought to displease a man of honour, or which was not designed to offend the rascals, I shall give myself very little concern for finding what I expected, that they would be highly provoked at these lucubrations. But, though I utterly despise the pack, I must confess I am at a stand at the receipt of the following letter, which seems to be written by a man of sense and worth, who has mistaken some passage that I am sure was not levelled at him. This gentleman's complaints give me compunction, when I neglect the threats of the rascals. I cannot be content with the rogues any longer, since they pretend to threaten. I do not know whether I shall allow them the favour of transportation.

MR. BICKERSTAFF.

September 13,

Observing you are not content with lashing the many vices of the age without illustrating each with particular characters, it is thought nothing would more contribute to the impression you design by such, than always having regard to truth. In your Tatler of this day, I observe you allow, that nothing is so tender as a lady's reputation; that a stain once got in their fame is hardly ever to be washed out. This you grant, even when you give yourself leave

to trifle. If so, what caution is necessary in handling the reputation of a man, whose well-being in this life perhaps entirely depends on preserving it from any wound, which once there received, too often becomes fatal and incurable? Suppose some villanous hand, through personal prejudice, transmits materials for this purpose, which you publish to the world,' and afterwards become fully convinced you were imposed have sent into the world; I say, supposing this, I on; as by this time you may be of a character you would be glad to know, what reparation you think ought to be made the person so injured, admitting you stood in his place. It has always been held, that a generous education is the surest mark of a generous mind. The former is, indeed, perspicuous in all your papers; and I am persuaded, though you keep any measures, even of christianity, with those affect often to show the latter, yet you would not who should handle you in the manner you do others. The application of all this is from your having very lately glanced at a man under a character, which, were he conscious to deserve, he would be the first to rid the world of himself; and would be more justifi able in it to all sorts of men, than you in your committing such a violence on his reputation, which perhaps you may be convinced of in another manner than you deserve from him.

A man of your capacity, Mr. Bickerstaff, should have more noble views, and pursue the true spirit of satire; but I will conclude, lest I grow out of temper, and will only beg you, for your own preservation, to remember the proverb of the pitcher. I am yours,

'A. J.

The proverb of the pitcher I have no regard to; but it would be an insensibility not to be pardoned if a man could be untouched at so warm an accusation, and that laid with so much seeming temper. All I can say to it is, that if the writer, by the same method whereby he conveyed this letter, shall give me an instance wherein I have injured any good man, or pointed at any thing which is not the true object of raillery, I shall acknowledge the offence in as open a manner as the press can do it, and lay down this paper for ever.

There is something very terrible in unjustly attacking men in a way that may prejudice their honour or fortune; but when men of too modest a sense of themselves will think they are touched, it is impossible to prevent ill consequences from the most inno cent and general discourses. This I have known happen in circumstances the most foreign to theirs who have taken offence at them. An advertisement lately published, relating to Omicron, alarmed a gentleman of good sense, integrity, honour, and industry, who is, in every particular, different from the trifling pretenders pointed at in that advertisement. When the modesty of some is as excessive as the vanity of others, what defence is there against misinterpretation? However, giving disturbance, though not in tended, to men of virtuous characters, has so sin