in different figures. Would not a man laugh the pleasure and perfection it gives the mind; to hear any one of this species complaining nor on the methods of attaining it, nor recomthat life is short? mend any particular branch of it; all which The stage might be made a perpetual source have been the topics of many other writers; of the most noble and useful entertainments, but shall indulge myself in a speculation that were it under proper regulations. is more uncommon, and may therefore per But the mind never unbends itself so agree-haps be more entertaining. ably as in the conversation of a well-chosen I have before, shown how the unemployed friend. There is indeed no blessing of life parts of life appear long and tedious, and shall that is any way comparable to the enjoyment here endeavour to show how those parts of of a discreet and virtuous friend. It eases and life which are exercised in study, reading, and unloads the mind, clears and improves the un-the pursuits of knowledge, are long, but not derstanding, engenders thoughts and know tedious, and by that means discover a method ledge, animates virtue and good resolutions, of lengthening our lives, and at the same time sooths and allays the passions, and finds em- of turning all the parts of them to our advanployment for most of the vacant hours of life. tage. Next to such an intimacy with a particular person, one would endeavour after a more general conversation with such as are able to entertain and improve those with whom they converse, which are qualifications that seldom go asunder. Mr. Locke observes, That we get the idea of time or duration, by reflecting on that train of ideas which succeed one another in our minds: that for this reason, when we sleep soundly without dreaming, we have no percep1 tion of time, or the length of it whilst we There are many other useful amusements sleep; and that the moment wherein we leave of life which one would endeavour to multi-off to think, till the moment we begin to think ply, that one might on all occasions have re- again, seems to have no distance. To which course to something, rather than suffer the the author adds, And so I doubt not but it mind to lie idle, or run adrift with any pas- would be to a waking man, if it were possible sion that chances to rise in it. for him to keep only one idea in his mind, without variation, and the succession of others; and we see, that one who fixes his thoughts very intently on one thing, so as to take but little notice of the succession of ideas that pass in his mind whilst he is taken up with that earnest contemplation, lets slip out of his account a good part of that duration, and thinks that time shorter than it is.' A man that has a taste of music, painting, or architecture, is like one that has another sense, when compared with such as have no relish of those arts. The florist, the planter, the gardener, the husbandman, when they are only as accomplishments to the man of fortune, are great reliefs to a country life, and many ways useful to those who are possessed of them. We might carry this thought further, and But of all the diversions of life, there is consider a man as on one side, shortening his none so proper to fill up its empty spaces as time by thinking on nothing, or but a few the reading of useful and entertaining au- things; so on the other, as lengthening it, by thors. But this I shall only touch upon, be- employing his thoughts on many subjects, or cause it in some measure interferes with the by entertaining a quick and constant succesthird method, which I shall propose in another sion of ideas. Accordingly, Monsieur Mallepaper, for the employment of our dead unac-branche, in his Inquiry after Truth, (which tive hours, and which I shall only mention in general to be the pursuit of knowledge. No. 94.] Monday, June 18, 1711. -Hoc est Vivere bis, vitâ posse priore fruj. Mart. Epig. xxiii. 10. The present joys of life we doubly taste, was published several years before Mr. Locke's Essay on Human Understanding,) tells us, that it is possible some creatures may think half an hour as long as we do a thousand years; or look upon that space of duration which we call a minute, as an hour, a week, a month, or a whole age. This notion of Monsieur Mallebranche is capable of some little explanation from what I have quoted out of Mr. Locke; for if our notion of time is produced by our reflecting on THE last method which I proposed in my the succession of ideas in our mind, and this Saturday's paper, for filling up those empty succession may be infinitely accelerated or respaces of life which are so tedious and bur- tarded, it will follow, that different beings may densome to idle people, is the employing our-have different notions of the same parts of selves in the pursuit of knowledge. I remem-duration, according as their ideas, which we ber Mr. Boyle, speaking of a certain mineral, suppose are equally distinct in each of them, tells us, that a man may consume his whole follow one another in a greater or less degree life in the study of it, without arriving at the of rapidity. knowledge of all its qualities. The truth of it is, there is not a single science, or any branch of it, that might not furnish a man with business for life, though it were much longer than it is. I shall not here engage on those beaten subjects of the usefulness of knowledge, nor of There is a famous passage in the Alcoran, which looks as Mahomet had been possessed of the notion we are now speaking of. It is there said, that the angel Gabriel took Mahomet out of his bed one morning to give him a sight of all things in the seven heavens, in paradise, and in hell, which the prophet took a distinct view of; and after having held nine- he had only dipped his head into the water, ty thousand conferences with God, was brought and immediately taken it out again. back again to his bed. All this, says the Al- The Mahometan doctor took this occasion of coran, was transacted in so small a space of instructing the sultan, that nothing was imtime, that Mahomet at his return found his bed possible with God; and that He, with whom still warm, and took up an earthen pitcher a thousand years are but as one day, can, if which was thrown down at the very instant he pleases, make a single day, nay, a single that the angel Gabriel carried him away, before moment, appear to any of his creatures as a the water was all spilt.* thousand years. There is a very pretty story in the Turkish I shall leave my reader to compare these Tales, which relates to this passage of that fa-eastern fables with the notions of those two mous impostor, and bears some affinity to the great philosophers whom I have quoted in this subject we are now upon. A sultan of Egypt paper; and shall only, by way of application, who was an infidel, used to laugh at this cir- desire him to consider how we may extend life cumstance in Mahomet's life, as what was alto- beyond its natural dimensions, by applying gether impossible and absurd: but conversing ourselves diligently to the pursuits of knowlone day with a great doctor in the law, who edge. had the gift of working miracles, the doctor The hours of a wise man are lengthened by told him he would quickly convince him of the his ideas, as those of a fool are by his passions. truth of this passage in the history of Mahomet, The time of the one is long, because he does if he would consent to do what he would desire not know what to do with it; so is that of the of him. Upon this the sultan was directed to other, because he distinguishes every moment place himself by a huge tub of water, which of it with useful or amusing thoughts; or, in he did accordingly; and as he stood by the other words, because the one is always wishtub amidst a circle of his great men, the holy ing it away, and the other always enjoying man bid him plunge his head into the water, it. and draw it up again. The king accordingly How different is the view of past life, in the thrust his head into the water, and at the same man who is grown old in knowledge and wistime found himself at the foot of a mountain dom, from that of him who is grown old in on the sea-shore The king immediately be- ignorance and folly! The latter is like the gan to rage against his doctor for this piece of owner of a barren country, that fills his eye treachery and witch-craft; but at length, with the prospect of naked hills and plains, knowing it was in vain to be angry, he set which produce nothing either profitable or orhimself to think on proper methods for get-namental; the other beholds a beautiful and ting a livelihood in this strange country.spacious landscape divided into delightful garAccordingly he applied himself to some peo- dens, green meadows, fruitful fields, and can ple whom he saw at work in a neighbouring scarce cast his eye on a single spot of his poswood: these people conducted him to a town that sessions, that is not covered with some beautistood at a little distance from the wood, where ful plant or flower. after some adventures, he married a woman of great beauty and fortune. He lived with this woman so long, that he had by her seven sons and seven daughters. He was afterwards reduced to great want, and forced to think of plying in the streets as a porter for his livelihood. One day as he was walking alone by the sea-side, being seized with many melancholy reflections upon his former and his present state of life, which had raised a fit of devotion in him, he threw off his clothes with a design to wash himself, according to the custom of the Mahometans, before he said his prayers. No. 95.] Tuesday, June 19, 1711. L. Cura leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.-Seneca Trag. A specu HAVING read the two following letters with much pleasure, I cannot but think the good sense of them will be as agreeable to the town as any thing I could say either on the topics they treat of, or any other; they both allude to former papers of mine, and I do not question but the first, which is upon inward mournAfter his first plunge into the sea, he no ing, will be thought the production of a man sooner raised his head above the water but who is well acquainted with the generous he found himself standing by the side of the yearnings of distress in a manly temper, tub, with the great men of his court about him, which is above the relief of tears. and the holy man at his side. He immediate-lation of my own on that subject I shall defer ly upbraided his teacher for having sent him till another occasion. on such a course of adventures, and betrayed The second letter is from a lady of a mind as him into so long a state of misery and servi- great as her understanding. There is perhaps tude; but was wonderfully surprised when he something in the beginning of it which I ought heard that the state he talked of was only a in modesty to conceal; but I have so much dream and delusion; that he had not stirred esteem for this correspondent, that I will not from the place where he then stood; and that alter a tittle of what she writes, though I am thus scrupulous at the price of being ridiculous. *This story is not to be found in the Alcoran, nor can I meet with any life of the prophet where it is told in these words: there is something like it in Simon's Critical History of the Belief of the Eastern Nations; but it is less particular. June the 15th. MR. SPECTATOR, upon general mourning, and should be obliged 'As I hope there are but few who have so to you if you would enter into the matter more deeply, and give us your thoughts upon little gratitude as not to acknowledge the usethe common sense the ordinary people have fulness of your pen, and to esteem it a public of the demonstrations of grief, who prescribe benefit; so I am sensible, be that as it will, rules and fashions to the most solemn afflic- you must nevertheless find the secret and intion; such as the loss of the nearest relations comparable pleasure of doing good, and be a and dearest friends. You cannot go to visit a great sharer in the entertainment you give. I sick friend, but some impertinent waiter about acknowledge our sex to be much obliged, and him observes the muscles of your face, as I hope improved by your labours, and even strictly as if they were prognostics of his your intentions more particularly for our serdeath or recovery. If he happens to be taken vice. If it be true, as it is sometimes said, from you, you are immediately surrounded that our sex have an influence on the other, with numbers of these spectators, who expect your paper may be a yet more general good. a melancholy shrug of your shoulders, a pa- Your directing us to reading, is certainly the thetical shake of your head, and an expres- best means to our instruction; but think, sive distortion of your face, to measure your with you, caution in that particular very useaffection and value for the deceased. But there ful, since the improvement of our understandis nothing, on these occasions, so much in their ings may, or may not, be of service to us, acfavour as immoderate weeping. As all their cording as it is managed. It has been thought passions are superficial, they imagine the seat we are not generally so ignorant as ill-taught, of love and friendship to be placed visibly in or that our sex does so often want wit, judgthe eyes. They judge what stock of kindness ment, or knowledge, as the right application so well-bred, as to say you had for the living, by the quantity of tears of them. You are you pour out for the dead; so that if one body your fair readers are already deeper scholars wants that quantity of salt-water another than the beaux, and that you could name some abounds with, he is in great danger of being of them that talk much better than several thought insensible or ill-natured. They are gentlemen that make a figure at Will's. This strangers to friendship, whose grief happens may possibly be, and no great compliment, in not to be moist enough to wet such a parcel of my opinion, even supposing your comparison handkerchiefs. But experience has told us, to reach Tom's and the Grecian. Surely you nothing is so fallacious as this outward sign of are too wise to think that the real commendasorrow; and the natural history of our bodies tion of a woman. Were it not rather to be will teach us that this flux of the eyes, this fa- wished we improved in our own sphere, and culty of weeping, is peculiar only to some approved ourselves better daughters, wives, constitutions. We observe in the tender bo-mothers, and friends? dies of children, when crossed in their little In 'I cannot but agree with the judicious trawills and expectations, how dissolvable they der in Cheapside (though I am not at all preare into tears. If this were what grief is in judiced in his favour) in recommending the men, nature would not be able to support them study of arithmetic; and must dissent even in the excess of it for one moment. Add to from the authority which you mention, when this observation, how quick is their transition it advises the making our sex scholars. from this passion to that of their joy! I will deed a little more philosophy, in order to the not say we see often, in the next tender things subduing our passions to our reason, might be to children, tears shed without much grieving. sometimes serviceable, and a treatise of that Thus it is common to shed tears without much nature I should approve of, even in exchange sorrow, and as common to suffer much sor- for Theodosius, or the Force of Love; but row without shedding tears. Grief and weep- as I well know you want not hints, I will proing are indeed frequent companions: but, I ceed no further than to recommend the Bishop believe, never in their highest excesses. As of Cambray's Education of a Daughter, as it laughter does not proceed from profound joy, is translated into the only language I have any so neither does weeping from profound sorrow. The sorrow which appears so easily at the eyes, cannot have pierced deeply into the heart. The heart distended with grief, stops all the passages for tears or lamentations. knowledge of, though perhaps very much to its disadvantage. I have heard it objected against that piece, that its instructions are not of general use, but only fitted for a great lady; but I confess I am not of that opinion; Now, sir, what I would incline you to in for I do not remember that there are any all this is, that you would inform the shallow rules laid down for the expenses of a woman, critics and observers upon sorrow, that true in which particular only I think a gentlewoman affliction labours to be invisible, that it is a ought to differ from a lady of the best fortune, stranger to ceremony, and that it bears in its or highest quality, and not in their principles own nature a dignity much above the little of justice, gratitude, sincerity, prudence, or circumstances which are affected under the modesty. I ought perhaps to make an aponotion of decency. You must know, sir, Ilogy for this long epistle; but as I rather behave lately lost a dear friend, for whom I have lieve you a friend to sincerity, than ceremony, not yet shed a tear, and for that reason your shall only assure you I am, animadversions on that subject would be the more acceptable to, 'Sir, Your most humble servant, 'B. D.' T. Sir, Your most humble servant, my leisure. The grief I was in was inexpres sible; and every body thought it would have cost me my life. In a few days my old lady, who was one of the housewives of the world, thought of turning me out of doors, because I put her in mind of her son. Sir Stephen proposed putting me to prentice; but my lady being an excellent manager would not let her rity. I had sense enough to be under the utmost indignation, to see her discard with so little concern, one her son had loved so much; and went out of the house to ramble wherever my feet would carry me. 'I HAVE frequently read your discourse up-husband throw away his money in acts of chaon servants, and as I am oue myself, have been much offended, that in that variety of forms wherein you considered the bad, you found no place to mention the good. There is however one observation of yours I approve, which is, "That there are men of wit and good sense The third day after I left Sir Stephen's faamong all orders of men, and that servants mily, I was strolling up and down the walks in report most of the good or ill which is spoken the Temple. A young gentleman of the house, of their masters." That there are men of sense who (as I heard him say afterwards) seeing me who live in servitude, I have the vanity to say half-starved and well-dressed, thought me an I have felt to my woful experience. You attri- equipage ready to his hand, after a very little bute very justly the source of our general ini- inquiry more than "Did I want a master ?" quity to bond-wages, and the manner of living bid me follow him; I did so, and in a very litout of a domestic way: but I cannot give you tle while thought myself the happiest creature my thoughts on this subject any way so well, in the world. My time was taken up in caras by a short account of my own life to this the forty-fifth year of my age; that is to say, from my being first a footboy at fourteen, to my present station of a nobleman's porter in the year of my age above-mentioned. rying letters to wenches, or messages to young ladies of my master's acquaintance. We rambled from tavern to tavern, to the playhouse, the Mulberry-garden,* and all places of resort; where my master engaged every Know then, that my father was a poor night in some new amour, in which and drinktenant to the family of Sir Stephen Rackrent. ing, he spent all his time when he had money. Sir Stephen put me to school, or rather made During these extravagancies, I had the pleame follow his son Harry to school, from my sure of lying on the stairs of a tavern half a ninth year: and there, though Sir Stephen night playing at dice with other servants, and paid something for my learning, I was used the like idleness. When my master was moneylike a servant, and was forced to get what less, I was generally employed in transcribing scraps of learning I could by my own industry, amorous pieces of poetry, old songs, and new for the school-master took very little notice of lampoons. This life held till my master marme. My young master was a lad of very ried, and he had then the prudence to turn sprightly parts; and my being constantly about me off. because I was in the secret of his inhim, and loving him, was no small advantage trigues. to me. My master loved me extremely, and I was utterly at a loss what course to take has often been whipped for not keeping me at next; when at last I applied myself to a fela distance. He used always to say, that when low-sufferer, one of his mistresses, a woman he came to his estate I should have a lease of of the town. She happening at that time to my father's tenement for nothing. I came up be pretty full of money, clothed me from head to town with him to Westminster-school; at to foot; and knowing me to be a sharp fellow, which time he taught me at night all he learnt; employed me accordingly. Sometimes I was and put me to find out words in the dictionary to go abroad with her, and when she had pitchwhen he was about his exercise. It was the ed upon a young fellow, she thought for her will of providence that master Harry was turn, I was to be dropped as one she could not taken very ill of a fever of which he died trust. She would often cheapen goods at the within ten days after his first falling sick. Here was the first sorrow I ever knew; and I assure you, Mr. Spectator, I remember the beautiful action of the sweet youth in his fever, as fresh as if it were yesterday. If he wanted any thing, it must be given him by Tom. When I let any thing fall through the grief I was under, he would cry, "Do not beat the poor boy give him some more julep for me, nobody else shall give it me.' He would strive to hide his being so bad, when he saw I could not bear his being in so much danger, and comforted me, saying, "Tom, Tom, have a good heart." When I was holding a cup at his mouth, he fell into convulsions; and at this very time I hear my dear master's last groan. I was quickly turned out of the room, and left to sob and beat my head against the wall at : New Exchange ; and when she had a mind to be attacked, she would send me away on an errand. When an humble servant and she were beginning a parley, I came immediately, and told her Sir John was come home; then she would order another coach to prevent being dogged. The lover makes signs to me as I get behind the coach, I shake my head, it was impossible: I leave my lady at the next turning, and follow the cully to know how to fall in tainment near Buckingham-house, (now the Queen's *The Mulberry-garden was a place of genteel enter Palace). † Britain's Burse, or the New Exchange, built in 1608, was situated between Durham-yard and York-buildings, in the Strand. It had rows of shops (says Pennant) over the walk, filled chiefly with milliners, sempstresses, &c. This was a place of fashionable resort. It was pulled down in 1737. his way on another occasion. Besides good in a crowd a cry in the right place, a hum offices of this nature, I writ all my mistress's where the point is touched in a speech, or a love-letters; some from a lady that saw such a huzza set up where it is the voice of the peogentleman at such a place in such a coloured ple; you may conclude it is begun or joined coat, some showing the terror she was in of a by, jealous old husband, others explaining that the severity of her parents was such (though her T. fortune was settled) that she was willing to run away with such a one, though she knew Sir, 'Your more than humble servant, Projecêre animas THOMAS TRUSTY.' Virg. En. vi. 436. he was but a younger brother. In a word, my No. 97.] Thursday, June 21, 1711. 6 HONEST TOM, "You will never see me more, I am married to a yery cunning country gentleman, who might possibly guess something if I kept you still; therefore farewell." They prodigally threw their lives away. AMONG the loose papers which I have frequently spoken of heretofore, I find a conversation between Pharamond and Eucrate upon the subject of duels, and the copy of an edict issued in consequence of that discourse. Eucrate argued, that nothing but the most severe and vindictive punishment, such as placing the bodies of the offenders in chains, and putting them to death by the most exquisite torments, would be sufficient to extirpate 'When this place was lost also in marriage, a crime which had so long prevailed, and was I was resolved to go among quite another peo- so firmly fixed in the opinion of the world as ple, for the future, and got in butler to one of great and laudable. The king answered, 'that those families where there is a coach kept, indeed instances of ignominy were necessary three or four servants, a clean house, and a in the cure of this evil; but, considering that good general outside upon a small estate. Here it prevailed only among such as had a nicety in I lived very comfortably for some time, until I their sense of honour, and that it often hap unfortunately found my master, the very grav-pened that a duel was fought to save appearest man alive, in the garret with the chamber- ances to the world, when both parties were in maid. I knew the world too well to think of their hearts in amity and reconciliation to each staying there; and the next day pretended to other it was evident that turning the mode have received a letter out of the country that another way would effectually put a stop to my father was dying, and got my discharge, what had being only as a mode; that to such with a bounty for my discretion. persons, poverty and shame were torments suf'The next I lived with was a peevish single ficient; that he would not go further in punman, whom I stayed with for a year and a half. ishing in others, crimes which he was satisfied Most part of the time I passed very easily; he himself was most guilty of, in that he for when I began to know him, minded no might have prevented them by speaking his more than he meant what he said; so that one displeasure sooner.' Besides which the king day in a good humour he said, "I was the best man he ever had, by my want of respect to him." 6 said, 'he was in general averse to tortures, which was putting human nature itself, rather than the criminal, to disgrace; and that he These, sir, are the chief occurrences of my would be sure not to use this means where the life, and I will not dwell upon very many other crime was but an ill effect arising from a laudplaces I have been in, where I have been the able cause, the fear of shame. The king, at strangest fellow in the world, where nobody the same time, spoke with much grace upon in the world had such servants as they, where the subject of mercy; and repented of many sure they were the unluckiest people in the acts of that kind which had a magnificent asworld in servants, and so forth. All I mean pect in the doing, but dreadful consequences by this representation is, to show you that we in the example. Mercy to particulars,' he poor servants are not [what you called us too observed, was cruelty in the general. That generally] all rogues; but that we are what though a prince could not revive a dead man we are, according to the example of our supe- by taking the life of him who killed him, neiriors. In the family I am now in, I am guilty ther could he make reparation to the next that of no one sin but lying; which I do with a should die by the evil example: or answer to grave face in my gown and staff every day I himself for the partiality in not pardoning the live, and almost all day long, in denying my next as well as the former offender.'-' As for lord to impertinent suitors, and my lady to me,' says Pharamond, I have conquered unwelcome visitants. But, sir, I am to let you France, and yet have given laws to my peoknow that I am, when I can get abroad, a lea-ple. The laws are my methods of life; they der of the servants: I am he that keeps time are not a diminution but a direction to my with beating my cudgel against the boards in power. I am still absolute to distinguish the the gallery at an opera; I am he that am touch-innocent and the virtuous, to give honours to ed so properly at a tragedy, when the people the brave and generous: I am absolute in my of quality are staring at one another during good-will; none can oppose my bounty, or the most important incidents. When you hear prescribe rules for my favour. While I can, as |