man? He to whom she gives law, grants and denies what she pleases? who can nei ther deny her any thing she asks, or refuse to do any thing she commands?" with my spouse; she would afford you, for some months at least, matter enough for one Spectator a week. Since we are not so happy as to be of your acquaintance, give me leave to represent to you our present To be short, my wife was extremely circumstances as well as I can in writing. pleased with it; said the Italian was the You are to know then that I am not of a only language for music; and admired how very different constitution from Nathaniel wonderfully tender the sentiment was, and Henroost, whom you have lately recorded how pretty the accent is of that language; in your speculations; and have a wife who with the rest that is said by rote on that makes a more tyrannical use of the know occasion. Mr. Meggot is sent for to sing ledge of my easy temper than that lady this air, which he performs with mighty ever pretended to. We had not been a applause; and my wife is in ecstacy on the month married, when she found in me a occasion, and glad to find, by my being so certain pain to give offence, and an indo- much pleased, that I was at last come into lence, that made me bear little inconve- the notion of the Italian; "for," said she, niences rather than dispute about them. "it grows upon one when one once comes From this observation it soon came to pass, to know a little of the language; and pray that if I offered to go abroad, she would get Mr. Meggot, sing again those notes, Whil between me and the door, kiss me, and say imperanti negare, nihil recusare." "You she could not part with me; then down may believe I was not a little delighted with again I sat. In a day or two after this first my friend Tom's expedient to alarm me, pleasant step towards confining me, she and in obedience to his summons I gave all declared to me, that I was all the world to this story thus at large; and I am resolved her, and she thought she ought to be all the when this appears in the Spectator, to de world to me. "If," said she, "my dear clare for myself. The manner of the insur loves me as much as I love him, he will rection I contrive by your means, which never be tired of my company. "This de- shall be no other than that Tom Meggot claration was followed by my being denied who is at our tea-table every morning, shall to all my acquaintance; and it very soon read it to us; and if my dear can take the came to that pass, that to give an answer at hint, and say not one word, but let this be the door, before my face, the servants would the beginning of a new life without farther ask her whether I was within or not; and explanation, it is very well; for as soon as she would answer no, with great fondness, the Spectator is read out, I shall, without and tell me I was a good dear. I will not more ado, call for the coach, name the hour enumerate more little circumstances to give when I shall be at home, if I come at all; you a livelier sense of my condition; but tell if I do not, they may go to dinner. If my you in general, that from such steps as spouse only swells and says nothing, Tom these at first, I now live the life of a pri- and I go out together, and all is well, as soner of state; my letters are opened, and said before; but if she begins to command I have not the use of pen, ink, and paper, or expostulate, you shall in my next to you but in her presence. I never go abroad, receive a full account of her resistance and except she sometimes takes me with her in submission, for submit the dear thing must her coach to take the air, if it may be called to, sir, your most obedient humble servant, so, when we drive, as we generally do, with 'ANTHONY FREEMAN. the glasses up. I have overheard my servants lament my condition, but they dare desire this may be in your very next.' T 'P. S. I hope I need not tell you that! not bring me messages without her knowledge, because they doubt my resolution to -Mens sibi conscia recti. Virg. n. i. 608 A good intention. IT is the great art and secret of Chris tianity, if I may use that phrase, to manag our actions to the best advantage, and dire them in such a manner that every thing do may turn to account at that great da when every thing we have done will be s before us. stand by them. In the midst of this insipid No. 213.] Saturday, November 3, 1711. way of life, an old acquaintance of mine, Tom Meggot, who is a favourite with her, and allowed to visit me in her company because he sings prettily, has roused me to rebel, and conveyed his intelligence to me in the following manner: My wife is a great pretender to music, and very ignorant of it; but far gone in the Italian taste. Tom goes to Armstrong, the famous fine writer of music, and desires him to put this sentence of Tully in the scale of an Italian air, and write it out for my spouse from him. An In order to give this consideration its fo ille mihi liber cui mulier imperat? Cui leges weight, we may cast all our actions und imponit, præscribit, jubet, vetat quod vide- the division of such as are in themselv tur? Qui nihil imperanti negare, nihil re- either good, evil, or indifferent. If we divi cusare audet? Poscit? dandum est. Vocat? our intentions after the same manner, an veniendum. Ejicit? abeundum. Minita- consider them with regard to our action tur? extimescendum. "Does he live like we may discover that great art and secr a gentleman who is commanded by a wo-of religion which I have here mentioned. A good intention joined to a good action, gives it its proper force and efficacy; joined to an evil action, extenuates its malignity, and in some cases may take it wholly away; and joined to an indifferent action, turns it to a virtue, and makes it meritorious as far as human actions can be so. other to abstain from every thing which But notwithstanding this plausible reason with which both the Jew and the Roman Catholic would excuse their respective superstitions, it is certain there is something in them very pernicious to mankind, and In the next place, to consider in the same destructive to religion; because the injuncmanner the influence of an evil intention tion of superfluous ceremonies makes such upon our actions. An evil intention per-actions duties as were before indifferent, verts the best of actions, and makes them in reality, what the fathers with a witty kind of zeal have termed the virtues of the heathen world, so many shining sins. It destroys the innocence of an indifferent action, and gives an evil action all possible blackness and horror, or, in the emphatical language of sacred writ, makes sin exceeding sinful." If, in the last place, we consider the nature of an indifferent intention, we shall find that it destroys the merit of a good action; abates, but never takes away the malignity of an evil action; and leaves an indifferent action in its natural state of indifference. It is therefore of unspeakable advantage to possess our minds with an habitual good intention, and to aim all our thoughts, words, and actions at some laudable end, whether it be the glory of our Maker, the good of mankind, or the benefit of our own souls. and by that means renders religion more This zealous and active obedience, how- It is this excellent frame of mind, this holy officiousness, (if I may be allowed to call it such) which is recommended to us by the apostle in that uncommon precept wherein he directs us to propose to ourselves the glory of our Creator in all our most indifferent actions, whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do.'* This is a sort of thrift or good husbandry in moral life, which does not throw away any single action, but makes every one go as far as it can. It multiplies the means of salvation, increases the number of our virtues, and diminishes that of our vices. A person therefore who is possessed with There is something very devout, though such an habitual good intention, as that not solid, in Acosta's answer to Limborch, which I have been here speaking of, enters who objects to him the multiplicity of cere- upon no single circumstance of life, without monies in the Jewish religion, as washings, considering it as well pleasing to the great dresses, meats, purgations, and the like. Author of his being, conformable to the The reply which the Jew makes upon this dictates of reason, suitable to human nature occasion is, to the best of my remembrance in general, or to that particular station in as follows: There are not duties enough,' which Providence has placed him. He says he, in the essential parts of the law lives in a perpetual sense of the Divine for a zealous and active obedience. Time, Presence, regards himself as acting, in the place, and person are requisite, before you whole course of his existence, under the have an opportunity of putting a moral vir- observation and inspection of that Being tue into practice. We have therefore,' says who is privy to all his motions and all his he, enlarged the sphere of our duty, and thoughts, who knows his 'down-sitting and made many things, which are in themselves his up-rising, who is about his path, and indifferent, a part of our religion, that we about his bed, and spieth out all his ways.' may have more occasions of showing our In a word, he remembers that the eye of love to God, and in all the circumstances of his Judge is always upon him, and in every ife be doing something to please him. action he reflects that he is doing what is Monsieur St. Evremond has endeavoured commanded or allowed by Him who will o palliate the superstitions of the Roman hereafter either reward or punish it. This Catholic religion with the same kind of was the character of those holy men of old, pology, where he pretends to consider the who in that beautiful phrase of scripture lifferent spirits of the Papists, and the Cal- are said to have walked with God.' as to the great points wherein they When I employ myself upon a paper of lisagree. He tells us, that the former are morality, I generally consider how I ctuated by love, and the other by fear; and recommend the particular virtue which I hat in their expressions of duty and devo- treat of, by the precepts or examples of the jon towards the Supreme Being, the former ancient heathens; by that means, if possible, particularly careful to do every thing which may possibly please him, and the inists, leem may 1 Cor. x. 31. † Psal. cxxxix. 2,2 ↑ Gen. v. 22, vi 9. to shame those who have greater advantages of knowing their duty, and therefore greater obligations to perform it, into a better course of life: besides that, many among us are unreasonably disposed to give a fairer hearing to a Pagan philosopher than to a Christian writer. on the one part, and merit and expectation on the other. The division of patron and client, may, I believe, include a third of our nation: the want of merit and real worth in the client, will strike out about ninety-nine in a hun dred of these; and the want of ability in paI shall therefore produce an instance of trons, as many of that kind. But, however, this excellent frame of mind in a speech I must beg leave to say, that he who will of Socrates, which is quoted by Erasmus. take up another's time and fortune in his This great philosopher, on the day of his service, though he has no prospect of re execution, a little before the draught of warding his merit towards him, is as unjust poison was brought to him, entertaining his in his dealings as he who takes up goods of friends with a discourse on the immortality a tradesman without intention or ability to of the soul, has these words: Whether or pay him. Of the few of the class which I no God will approve of my actions, I know think fit to consider, there are not two in not; but this I am sure of, that I have at all ten who succeed, insomuch that I know a times made it my endeavour to please him, man of good sense who put his son to a and I have a good hope that this my en- blacksmith, though an offer was made him deavour will be accepted by him." We of his being received as a page to a man of find in these words of that great man the quality. There are not more cripples come habitual good intention which I would here out of the wars than there are from those inculcate, and with which that divine phi- great services; some through discontent lose losopher always acted. I shall only add, their speech, some their memories, others that Erasmus, who was an unbigotted Ro- their senses, or their lives; and I seldom man Catholic, was so much transported see a man thoroughly discontented, but I with this passage of Socrates, that he could conclude he has had the favour of some scarce forbear looking upon him as a saint, great man. an. I have known of such as have and desiring him to pray for him; or as been for twenty years together within a that ingenious and learned writer has ex-month of a good employment, but never pressed himself in a much more lively man-arrived at the happiness of being possessed ner; 'When I reflect on such a speech pro- of any thing. nounced by such a person, I can scarce forbear crying out," Sancte Socrates, ora pro nobis:" O holy Socrates, pray for us. No. 214.] Monday, November 5, 1711. -Perierunt tempora longi Juv. Sat. iii. 124. There is nothing more ordinary, than that a man who has got into a considerable sta tion, shall immediately alter his manner of treating all his friends, and from that moment he is to deal with you as if he were your Fate. You are no longer to be consulted, even in matters which concern your self; but your patron is of a species above you, and a free communication with you is Servitii not to be expected. This, perhaps, may A long dependence in an hour is lost. Dryden. be your condition all the while he bears office, and when that is at an end, you are I DID some time ago lay before the world as intimate as ever you were, and he will the unhappy condition of the trading part take it very ill if you keep the distance he of mankind, who suffer by want of punctu- prescribed you towards him in his gran ality in the dealings of persons above them; deur. One would think this should be a but there is a set of men who are much behaviour a man could fall into with the more the objects of compassion than even worst grace imaginable: but they who know those, and these are the dependants on the world have seen it more than once. great men, whom they are pleased to take have often, with secret pity, heard the under their protection as such as are to same man who has professed his abhor share in their friendship and favour. These, rence against all kinds of passive behavicur indeed, as well from the homage that is ac- lose minutes, hours, days, and years, in cepted from them, as the hopes which are fruitless attendance on one who had no in given to them, are become a sort of credi-clination to befriend him. It is very much tors; and these debts, being debts of honour, ought, according to the accustomed maxim, to be first discharged. When I speak of dependants, I would not be understood to mean those who are worthless in themselves, or who, without any call, will press into the company of their betters. Nor, when I speak of patrons, do I mean those who either have it not in their power, or have no obligation to assist their friends; but I speak of such leagues where there is power and obligation to be regretted, that the great have on particular privilege above the rest of th world, of being slow in receiving impres sions of kindness, and quick in taking of fence. The elevation above the rest of mar kind, except in very great minds, make men so giddy, that they do not see after th same manner they did before. Thus the despise their old friends, and strive to e tend their interest to new pretenders. I this means it often happens, that when y come to know how you lost such an en ployment you will find the man who got it never dreamed of it; but, forsooth, he was to be surprised into it, or perhaps solicited to receive it. Upon such occasions as these a man may perhaps grow out of humour. If you are so, all mankind will fall in with the patron, and you are an humourist and untractable if you are capable of being sour at a disappointment: but it is the same thing whether you do or do not resent ill usage, you will be used after the same manner; as some good mothers will be sure to whip their children till they cry, and then whip them for crying. There are but two ways of doing any thing with great people, and those are by making yourself either considerable or agreeable. The former is not to be attained but by finding a way to live without them, or concealing that you want them; the latter is only by falling into their taste and pleasures. This is of all the employments in the world the most servile, except it happens to be of your own natural humour. For to be agreeable to another, especially if he be above you, is not to be possessed of such qualities and accomplishments as should render you agreeable in yourself, but such as make you agreeable in respect to him. An imitation of his faults, or a compliance, if not subservience to his vices, must be the measure of your conduct. When it comes to that, the unnatural state a man lives in, when his patron pleases, is ended; and his guilt and complaisance are objected to him, though the man who rejects him for his vices was not only his partner but seducer. Thus the client (like a young woman who has given up the innocence that made her charming) has not only lost his time, but also the virtue which could render him capable of resenting the injury which is done him. of good patrons, and distinguish such as No. 215.] Tuesday, November 6, 1711. Ovid, Ep. ix. Lib. 2. de Ponto, v. 47. I CONSIDER a human soul without education like marble in the quarry, which shows none of its inherent beauties; until the skill of the polisher fetches out the colours, makes the surface shine,. and discovers every ornamental cloud, spot, and vein that runs through the body of it. Education, after the same manner, when it works upon a noble mind, draws out to view every latent virtue and perfection, which without such helps are never able to make their appearance. If my reader will give me leave to change the allusion so soon upon him, I shall make use of the same instance to illustrate the force of education, which Aristotle has brought to explain his doctrine of substantial forms, when he tells us that a statue lies hid in a block of marble; and that the art of the statuary only clears away the superfluous matter and removes the rubbish. The figure is in the stone, the sculptor only finds it. What sculpture is to a It would be endless to recount the tricks block of marble, education is to a human of turning you off from themselves to per- soul. The philosopher, the saint, or the sons who have less power to serve you: the hero, the wise, the good, or the great man, art of being sorry for such an unaccountable very often lie hid and concealed in a pleaccident in your behaviour, that such a one beian, which a proper education might (who, perhaps, has never heard of you) op- have disinterred, and have brought to light. poses your advancement; and if you have I am, therefore, much delighted with readany thing more than ordinary in you, you ing the accounts of savage nations, and with are flattered with a whisper, that it is no contemplating those virtues which are wild wonder people are so slow in doing for and uncultivated; to see courage exerting man of your talents, and the like. itself in fierceness, resolution in obstinacy, wisdom in cunning, patience in sullenness and despair. a After all this treatment, I must still add the pleasantest insolence of all, which I have once or twice seen; to wit, that when silly rogue has thrown away one part in three of his life in unprofitable attendance, it is taken wonderfully ill that he withdraws, and is resolved to employ the rest for himself. Men's passions operate variously, and appear in different kinds of actions, according as they are more or less rectified and swayed by reason. When one hears of negroes, who upon the death of their masters, or upon changing their service, hang themWhen we consider these things, and re-selves upon the next tree, as it frequently upon so many honest natures (which happens in our American plantations, who one, who makes observation of what passes, can forbear admiring their fidelity, though may have seen) that have miscarried by it expresses itself in so dreadful a manner? such sort of applications, it is too melan- What might not that savage greatness of choly a scene to dwell upon; therefore I soul which appears in these poor wretches shall take another opportunity to discourse on many occasions, be raised to, were it Rect rightly cultivated? And what colour of excuse can there be for the contempt with which we treat this part of our species? that we should not put them upon the common foot of humanity; that we should only set an insignificant fine upon the man who murders them; nay, that we should, as much as in us lies, cut them off from the prospects of happiness in another world as well as in this, and deny them that which we look upon as the proper means for attaining it? Since I am engaged on this subject, I cannot forbear mentioning a story which I have lately heard, and which is so well attested, that I have no manner of reason to suspect the truth of it. I may call it a kind of wild tragedy that passed about twelve years ago at Saint Christopher's, one of our British Leeward islands. The negroes who were the persons concerned in it, were all of them the slaves of a gentleman who is now in England. coming to the place saw the woman dead, and the two negroes expiring by her with wounds they had given themselves. We see in this amazing instance of barbarity, what strange disorders are bred in the minds of those men whose passions are not regulated by virtue, and disciplined by reason. Though the action which I have recited is in itself full of guilt and horror, it proceeded from a temper of mind, which might have produced very noble fruits, had it been informed and guided by a suitable education. It is therefore an unspeakable blessing to be born in those parts of the world where wisdom and knowledge flourish; though it must be confessed, there are, even in these parts, several poor uninstructed persons, who are but little above the inhabitants of those nations of which I have been here speaking; as those who have had the advantages of a more liberal education rise above one another by several different degrees of per This gentleman, among his negroes, had fection. For, to return to our statue in the a young woman, who was looked upon as a block of marble, we see it sometimes only most extraordinary beauty by those of her begun to be chipped, sometimes roughown complexion. He had at the same time hewn, and but just sketched into an human two young fellows, who were likewise ne- figure; sometimes we see the man appear groes and slaves, remarkable for the come-ing distinctly in all his limbs and features, liness of their pensons, and for the friendship sometimes we find the figure wrought up to which they bore to one another. It unfor- a great elegancy, but seldom meet with tunately happened that both of them fell in any to which the hand of a Phidias or Praxi love with the female negro above-mention- teles could not give several nice touches and ed, who would have been very glad to have finishings. taken either of them for her husband, provided they could agree between themselves which should be the man. But they were both so passionately in love with her, that neither of them could think of giving her up to his rival; and at the same time were so true to one another, that neither of them would think of gaining her without his friend's consent. The torments of these two lovers were the discourse of the family to which they belonged, who could not forbear observing the strange complication of passions which perplexed the hearts of the poor negroes, that often dropped expressions of the uneasiness they underwent, and how impossible it was for either of them ever to be happy. T Discourses of morality, and reflections upon human nature, are the best means we can make use of to improve our minds, and gain a true knowledge of ourselves, and consequently to recover our souls out of the vice, ignorance, and prejudice, which na turally cleave to them. I have all along professed myself in this paper a promoter of these great ends; and I flatter myself that I do from day to day contribute some thing to the polishing of men's minds: at least my design is laudable, whatever the execution may be. I must confess I am not a little encouraged in it by many letters which I receive from unknown hands, approbation of my endeavours: and must take this opportunity of returning my After a long struggle between love and thanks to those who write them, and ex friendship, truth and jealousy, they one day cusing myself for not inserting several f took a walk together into a wood, carrying them in my papers, which I am sensible their mistress along with them: where, would be a very great ornament to them. after abundance of lamentations, they stab- Should I publish the praises which are so bed her to the heart, of which she imme- well penned, they would do honour to the diately died. A slave who was at his work persons who write them, but my publish not far from the place were this astonishing ing of them would, I fear, be a sufficient piece of cruelty was committed, hearing instance to the world that I did not deserve the shrieks of the dying person, ran to see them. what was the occasion of them. He there C. discovered the woman lying dead upon the No. 216.] Wednesday, November 7, 1711 ground, with the two negroes on each side of her, kissing the dead corpse, weeping over it, and beating their breasts in the utmost agonies of grief and despair. He immediately ran to the English family with the news of what he had seen; who upon Verum si incipies, neque perficies naviter,odu 1 go. Ter. Eun. Acti.& 1 |