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rippet der hly himse se I think , as it is
uch as w pretences:
clude in this calculation the life of those men who hours together in shuffling and dividing a pack of
The first is the exercise of virtue, in the most
envious, quieting the angry, and rectifying the pre- Next to such an intimacy with a particular per-
There is another kind of virtue that may find There are many other useful amusements of life employment for those retired hours in which we which one would endeavour to multiply, that one are altogether left to ourselves, and destitute of might on all occasions have recourse to something, company and conversation; I mean that inter- rather than suffer the mind to lie idle, or run adrift course and communication which every reasonable with any passion that chances to rise in it. creature ought to maintain with the great Author A man that has a taste in music, painting, or of his being. The man who lives under an habi- architecture, is like one that has another sense, tual sense of the divine presence keeps up a per- when compared with such as have no relish of those petual cheerfulness of temper, and enjoys every arts. The florist, the planter, the gardener, the husmoment the satisfaction of thinking himself in com- bandman, when they are only as accomplishments pany with his dearest and best of friends. The to the man of fortune, are great reliefs to a country time never lies heavy upon him: it is impossible life, and many ways useful to those who are posfor him to be alone. His thoughts and passions sessed of them.
are the most busied at such hours when those of But of all the diversions of life, there is none so other men are the most unactive. He no sooner proper to fill up its empty spaces as the reading of steps out of the world but his heart burns with de- useful and entertaining authors. But this I shall votion, swells with hope, and triumphs in the con-only touch upon, because it in some measure intersciousness of that presence which every where surferes with the third method, which I shall propose rounds him; or on the contrary, pours out its fears, in another paper, for the employment of our dead its sorrows, its apprehensions, to the great Sup- unactive hours, and which I shall only mention in general to be the pursuit of knowledge.
porter of its existence.
N° 94. MONDAY, JUNE 18, 1711.
Vivere bis, vita posse priore frui.
MART. Epig, xxiii. 10.
I have here only considered the necessity of a man's being virtuous that he may have something to do; but if we consider further, that the exercise of virtue is not only an amusement for the time it lasts, but that its influence extends to those parts of our existence which lie beyond the grave, and that our whole eternity is to take its colour from those hours which we here employ in virtue or in vice, the argument redoubles upon us for putting ia practice this method of passing away our time. When a man has but a little stock to improve, and has opportunities of turning it all to good ac- THE last method which I proposed in my Saturday's count, what shall we think of him if he suffers nine-paper, for filling up those empty spaces of life teen parts of it to lie dead, and perhaps employs which are so tedious and burdensome to idle peoeven the twentieth to his ruin or disadvantage? ple, is the employing ourselves in the pursuit of But because the mind cannot be always in its fer- knowledge. I remember Mr. Boyle, speaking of Yours, nor strained up to a pitch of virtue, it is a certain mineral, tells us, that a man may conecessary to find out proper employment for it in sume his whole life in the study of it, without arits relaxations. riving at the knowledge of all its qualities. The The next method therefore that I would propose truth of it is, there is not a single science, or any fill up our time, should be useful and innocent branch of it, that might not furnish a man with diversions. I must confess I think it is below rea-business for life, though it were much longer than sonable creatures to be altogether conversant in it is.
sach diversions as are merely innocent, and have I shall not here engage on those beaten subjects nothing else to recommend them, but that there is of the usefulness of knowledge, nor of the pleasure ao hart in them. Whether any kind of gaming and perfection it gives the mind; nor on the meas even thus much to say for itself, I shall not thods of attaining it, nor recommend any particular determine; but I think it is very wonderful to see branch of it; all which have been the topics of persons of the best sense passing away a dozen many other writers: but shall indulge myself in a
speculation that is more uncommon, and may there- There is a very pretty story in the Turkish tales, fore perhaps be more entertaining. which relates to this passage of that famous imI have before shown how the unemployed parts postor, and bears some affinity to the subject we of life appear long and tedious, and shall here en- are now upon. A sultan of Egypt, who was an deavour to show how those parts of life which are infidel, used to laugh at this circumstance in Mahoexercised in study, reading, and the pursuits of met's life, as what was altogether impossible and knowledge, are long, but not tedious, and by that absurd: but conversing one day with a great doctor means discover a method of lengthening our lives, in the law, who had the gift of working miracles, and at the same time of turning all the parts of the doctor told him he would quickly convince him them to our advantage. of the truth of this passage in the history of Ma. Mr. Locke observes, That we get the idea of homet, if he would consent to do what he would time or duration, by reflecting on that train of desire of him. Upon this the sultan was directed ideas which succeed one another in our minds: to place himself by a huge tub of water, which he that for this reason, when we sleep soundly with- did accordingly; and as he stood by the tub amidst out dreaming, we have no perception of time, or a circle of his great men, the holy man bid him the length of it whilst we sleep; and that the mo- plunge his head into the water, and draw it up ment wherein we leave off to think, till the moment again. The king accordingly thrust his head into we begin to think again, seem to have no distance.' the water, and at the same time found himself at To which the author adds, and so I doubt not but the foot of a mountain on a sea-shore. The king it would be to a waking man, if it were possible immediately began to rage against his doctor for for him to keep only one idea in his mind, without this piece of treachery and witchcraft; but at variation, and the succession of others; and we see, length, knowing it was in vain to be angry, he set that one who fixes his thoughts very intently on himself to think on proper methods for getting a one thing, so as to take but little notice of the livelihood in this strange country. Accordingly he succession of ideas that pass in his mind whilst he applied himself to some people whom he saw at is taken up with that earnest contemplation, lets work in a neighbouring wood: these people conslip out of his account a good part of that duration, ducted him to a town that stood at a little distance and thinks that time shorter than it is.'* from the wood, where, after some adventures, be We might carry this thought further, and con- married a woman of great beauty and fortune. He sider a man as, on one side, shortening his time by lived with this woman so long, that he had by her thinking on nothing, or but a few things; so on the seven sons and seven daughters. He was afterother, as lengthening it, by employing his thoughts wards reduced to great want, and forced to think on many subjects, or by entertaining a quick and of plying in the streets as a porter for his liveliconstant succession of ideas. Accordingly Monsieur hood. One day as he was walking alone by the Mallebranche, in his Inquiry after Truth (which sea-side, being seized with many melancholy rewas published several years before Mr. Locke's flections upon his former and his present state of Essay on Human Understanding), tells us, that it life, which had raised a fit of devotion in him, he is possible some creatures may think half an hour threw off his clothes with a design to wash himself, as long as we do a thousand years; or look upon according to the custom of the Mahometans, before that space of duration which we call a minute, as he said his prayers. an hour, a week, a month, or a whole age.'
After his first plunge into the sea, he no sooner This notion of Monsieur Mallebranche is capable raised his head above the water, but he found himof some little explanation from what I have quoted self standing by the side of the tub, with the great out of Mr. Locke; for if our notion of time is pro- men of his court about him, and the holy man at duced by our reflecting on the succession of ideas his side. He immediately upbraided his teacher in our mind, and this succession may be infinitely for having sent him on such a course of adventures, accelerated or retarded, it will follow, that dif- and betrayed him into so long a state of misery ferent beings may have different notions of the and servitude; but was wonderfully surprised when same parts of duration, according as their ideas, he heard that the state he talked of was only a which we suppose are equally distinct in each of dream and delusion; that he had not stirred from them, follow one another in a greater or less degree the place where he then stood; and that he had of rapidity. only dipped his head into the water, and immeThere is a famous passage in the Alcoran, which diately taken it out again. looks as if Mahomet had been possessed of the no- The Mahometan doctor took this occasion of intion we are now speaking of. It is there said, that structing the sultan, that nothing was impossible the angel Gabriel took Mahomet out of his bed one with God; and that He, with whom a thousand morning to give him a sight of all things in the years are but as one day, can, if he pleases, make seven heavens, in paradise, and in hell, which the a single day, nay, a single moment, appear to any prophet took a distinct view of; and after having of his creatures as a thousand years. held ninety thousand conferences with God, was I shall leave my reader to compare these eastern brought back again to his bed. All this, says the fables with the notions of those two great philosoAlcoran, was transacted in so small a space of phers whom I have quoted in this paper; and shall time, that Mahomet at his return found his bed still only, by way of application, desire him to consider warm, and took up an earthen pitcher, which was how we may extend life beyond its natural dimenthrown down at the very instant that the angel sions, by applying ourselves diligently to the purGabriel carried him away, before the water was all suits of knowledge. spilt.t
• Essay on Human Understanding, b. ii. ch. xiv. sect. 4.
The hours of a wise man are lengthened by his ideas, as those of a fool are by his passions. The time of the one is long, because he does not know what to do with it; so is that of the other, because +The Koran (Al Koran) has been searched for this passage; he distinguishes every moment of it with useful or but no such relation is to be found in it. In a Life of Mahomet amusing thoughts; or, in other words, because the (London, 8vo. 1712) we find a passage something similar, but ra- one is always wishing it away and the other always
ther less extravagant, as it extends the duration of the journey to "tenth part of the night.'
rkish le famous a
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ossible a Teat do
How different is the view of past life, in the in the tender bodies of children, when crossed in man who is grown old in knowledge and wisdom, their little wills and expectations, how dissolvable from that of him who is grown old in ignorance they are into tears. If this were what grief is in and folly! The latter is like the owner of a barren men, nature would not be able to support them in country, that fills his eye with the prospect of the excess of it for one moment. Add to this obnaked hills and plains, which produce nothing servation, how quick is their transition from this either profitable or ornamental; the other beholds passion to that of their joy! I will not say we see a beautiful and spacious landscape divided into de-often, in the next tender things to children, tears lightful gardens, green meadows, fruitful fields, shed without much grieving. Thus it is common and can scarce cast his eye on a single spot of his to shed tears without much sorrow, and as common possessions, that is not covered with some beauti- to suffer much sorrow without shedding tears. ful plant or flower. Grief and weeping are indeed frequent companions: but, I believe, never in their highest excesses. As laughter does not proceed from profound joy, 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.
N° 95. TUESDAY, JUNE 19, 1711.
Cura leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.
Light sorrows speak, great grief is dumb.
"Now, sir, what I would incline you to in all this is, that you would inform the shallow critics HAVING read the two following letters with much and observers upon sorrow, that true affliction pleasure, I cannot but think the good sense of labours to be invisible, that it is a stranger to cerethem will be as agreeable to the town as any thing mony, and that it bears in its own nature a dignity I could say either on the topics they treat of, or much above the little circumstances which are af any other; they both allude to former papers of fected under the notion of decency. You must mine; and I do not question but the first, which is know, sir, I have lately lost a dear friend, for upon mourning, will be thought the production of whom I have not yet shed a tear; and for that a man who is well acquainted with the generous reason your animadversions on that subject would yearnings of distress in a manly temper, which is be the more acceptable to, above the relief of tears. A speculation of my own on that subject I shall defer till another occasion. The second letter is from a lady of a mind as great as her understanding. There is perhaps something in the beginning of it which I ought in modesty. to conceal; but I have so much esteem for this correspondent, that I will not alter a tittle of what she writes, though I am thus scrupulous at the price of being ridiculous.
'Your most humble servant,
'B. D." June the 15th.
As I hope there are but few who have so little gratitude as not to acknowledge the usefulness of your pen, and to esteem it a public benefit; so I am sensible, be that as it will, you must nevertheless find the secret and incomparable pleasure of doing good, and be a great sharer in the enterI was very well pleased with your discourse upon tainment you give. I acknowledge our sex to be general mourning, and should be obliged to you much obliged, and I hope improved by your laif you will enter into the matter more deeply, and bours, and even your intentions more particularly give us your thoughts upon the common sense the for our service. If it be true, as it is sometimes ordinary people have of the demonstrations of said, that our sex have an influence on the other, grief, who prescribe rules and fashions to the most your paper may be a yet more general good. Your solemn affliction; such as the loss of the nearest directing us to reading, is certainly the best means relations and dearest friends. You cannot go to to our instruction; but I think with you, caution visit a sick friend, but some impertinent waiter in that particular very useful, since the improveabout him observes the muscles of your face as ment of our understandings may, or may not, be strictly, as if they were prognostics of his death or of service to us, according as it is managed. It recovery. If he happens to be taken from you, has been thought we are not generally so ignorant you are immediately surrounded with numbers of as ill-taught, or that our sex does not so often want these spectators, who expect a melancholy shrug wit, judgment, or knowledge, as the right applicaof your shoulders, a pathetical shake of your head, tion of them. You are so well-bred, as to say your and an expressive distortion of your face, to mea fair readers are already deeper scholars than the sure your affection and value for the deceased. beaux, and that you could name some of them that But there is nothing, on these occasions, so much talk much better than several gentleman that make in their favour as immoderate weeping. As all their a figure at Will's. This may possibly be, and no passions are superficial, they imagine the seat of great compliment, in my opinion, even supposing love and friendship to be placed visibly in the eyes. your comparison to reach Tom's and the Grecian. They judge what stock of kindness you had for the Sure you are too wise to think that the real comliving, by the quantity of tears you pour out for mendation of a woman. Were it not rather to be the dead; so that if one body wants that quantity wished we improved in our own sphere, and apof salt water another abounds with, he is in great proved ourselves better daughters, wives, mothers, danger of being thought insensible or ill-natured. and friends?
They are strangers to friendship, whose grief hap 'I cannot but agree with the judicious trader in pens not to be moist enough to wet such a parcel Cheapsidef (though I am not at all prejudiced in of handkerchiefs. But experience has told us, no- his favour) in recommending the study of arithmething is so fallacious as this outward sign of sorrow; tic; and must dissent even from the authority which and the natural history of our bodies will teach us you mention, when it advises the making our sex that this flux of the eyes, this faculty of weeping, is scholars. Indeed a little more philosophy, in order peculiar only to some constitutions. We observe
See No. 92.
to the subduing our passions to our reason, might the will of Providence that master Harry was be sometimes serviceable; and a treatise of that taken very ill of a fever, of which he died within nature I should approve of, even in exchange for ten days after his first falling sick. Here was the Theodosius, or the Force of Love; but as I well first sorrow I ever knew, and I assure you, Mr. know you want not hints, I will proceed no fur-Spectator, I remember the beautiful action of the ther than to recommend the Bishop of Cambray's sweet youth in his fever, as fresh as if it were yesEducation of a Daughter, as it is translated into terday. If he wanted any thing, it must be given the only language I have any knowledge of, though him by Tom. When I let any thing fall through perhaps very much to its disadvantage. I have the grief I was under, he would cry, "Do not beat heard it objected against that piece, that its in- the poor boy give him some more julep for me, structions are not of general use, but only fitted nobody else shall give it me." He would strive to for a great lady; but I confess I am not of that hide his being so bad, when he saw I could not opinion; for I do not remember that there are any bear his being in so much danger, and comforted rules laid down for the expenses of a woman, in me, saying, "Tom, Tom, have a good heart." which particular only I think a gentlewoman ought When I was holding a cup at his mouth, he fell to differ from a lady of the best fortune, or highest into convulsions; and at this very time I hear my quality, and not in their principles of justice, gra-dear master's last groan. I was quickly turned out titude, sincerity, prudence, or modesty. I ought of the room, and left to sob and beat my head perhaps to make an apology for this long epistle; but as I rather believe you a friend to sincerity than ceremony, shall only assure you I am,
HOR. Sat. vii. 1. 2. v. 3.
against the wall at my leisure. The grief I was in was inexpressible; 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 ex cellent manager, would not let her husband throw away his money in acts of charity. 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.
The third day after I left Sir Stephen's family, I was strolling up and down the walks in the Temple. A young gentleman of the house, who (as I I HAVE frequently read your discourse upon ser-heard him say afterwards), seeing me half-starved vants; and, as I am one myself, have been much and well-dressed, thought me an equipage ready to offended, that in that variety of forms wherein you his hand, after very little inquiry more than "Did considered the bad, you found no place to mention I want a master?" bid me follow him; I did so, the good. There is, however, one observation of and in a very little while thought myself the hap yours I approve, which is, "That there are men piest creature in this world. My time was taken of wit and good sense among all orders of men, up in carrying letters to wenches, or messages to and that servants report most of the good or ill young ladies of my master's acquaintance. We which is spoken of their masters." That there are rambled from tavern to tavern, to the playhouse, men of sense who live in servitude, I have the the Mulberry-garden, and all places of resort; vanity to say I have felt to my woful experience. where my master engaged every night in some You attribute very justly the source of our general new amour, in which and drinking he spent all iniquity to board wages, and the manner of living his time when he had money. During these extraout of a domestic way; but I cannot give you my vagancies I had the pleasure of lying on the stairs thoughts on this subject any way so well, as by a of a tavern half a night, playing at dice with other short account of my own life to this the forty-fifth servants, and the like idlenesses. When my master year of my age; that is to say, from my being first was moneyless, I was generally employed in transa footboy at fourteen, to my present station of a cribing amorous pieces of poetry, old songs and nobleman's porter in the year of my age above new lampoons. This life held till my master mar mentioned. ried, and he had then the prudence to turn me off, Know then, that my father was a poor tenant because I was in the secret of his intrigues. to the family of Sir Stephen Rack at. Sir Stephen 'I was utterly at a loss what course to take put me to school, or rather made me follow his son next; when at last I applied myself to a fellowHarry to school, from my ninth year; and there, sufferer, one of his mistresses, a woman of the though Sir Stephen paid something for my learn town. She happening at that time to be pretty ing, I was used like a servant, and was forced to full of money, clothed me from head to foot; and, get what scraps of learning I could by my own knowing me to be a sharp fellow, employed me industry, for the schoolmaster took very little no-accordingly. Sometimes I was to go abroad with tice of me. My young master was a lad of very her; and when she had pitched upon a young felsprightly parts; and my being constantly about low she thought for her turn, I was to be dropped him, and loving him, was no small advantage to as one she could not trust. She would often My master loved me extremely, and has often cheapen goods at the New Exchange it and when been whipped for not keeping me at a distance. He used always to say, that when he came to his estate I should have a lease of my father's tenement for nothing. I came up to town with him to Westminster school; at which time he taught me at night all be learnt; and put me to find out words in the dictionary when he was about his exercise. It was
• See No. 88.
This was a place of entertainment near Buckingham. named one of his plays after it, the incidents of which chiefly House; somewhat like our Vauxhall, Sir Charles Sedley has arise there.
+Situated in the Strand, between Durham Yard and York. Buildings. It was the fashionable part of the town at that time for milliners' shops. In 1737, it was taken down, and dwelling-houses erected on the spot. There still, however, re mains a coffee house bearing the name.
Harry died re waste e you, tion of
Your more than humble servant,
she had a mind to be attacked, she would send me point is touched in a speech, or a huzza set up away on an errand. When an humble servant and where it is the voice of the people; you may conshe were beginning a parley, I came immediately, clude it is begun or joined by, 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. t be grethe 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 his way on another occasion. Besides good offices of this nature, 1 writ all my mistress's love-letters; some from a lady that saw such a gentleman at such a place in conforte sach a coloured coat, some showing the terror she was in of a jealous old husband, others explaining th, he that the severity of her parents was such (though
Do not be
No 97. THURSDAY, JUNE 21, 1711.
Projecere animas ———
VIRG. Æn. vi. 436,
They prodigally threw their souls away.
bearber fortune was settled) that she was willing to run AMONG the loose papers which I have frequently rred away with such a one, though she knew he was but spoken of heretofore, I find a conversation be
a younger brother. In a word, my half education, tween Pharamond and Eucrate upon the subject and love of idle books, made me out-write all that of duels, and the copy of an edict issued in conmade love to her by way of epistle; and, as she sequence of that discourse was extremely cunning, she did well enough in company by a skilful affectation of the greatest modesty. In the midst of all this I was surprised with a letter from her, and a ten-pound note.
AL HONEST TOM,
and "You will never see me more. I am married to very cunning country gentleman, who might possibly guess something if I kept you still; therefore
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 suffictent to extirpate a crime which had so long prevailed, and was so firmly fixed in the opinion of the world as great and laudable. The king answered, that indeed instances of ignominy were necessary in the cure of this evil; but, considering that it prevailed only among such as had a nicety in their sense of honour, and that it often happened When this place was lost also in marriage, I that a duel was fought to save appearances in the was resolved to go among quite another people, for world, when both parties were in their hearts in the future, and got in butler to one of those fami- amity and reconciliation to each other, it was lies, where there is a coach kept, three or four evident that turning the mode another way would servants, a clean house, and a good general out-effectually put a stop to what had being only as a ide, upon a small estate. Here I lived very com- mode; that to such persons, poverty and shame fortably for some time, until I unfortunately found were torments sufficient; that he would not go furmy master, the very gravest man alive, in the gar-ther in punishing in others, crimes which he was ret with the chambermaid. I knew the world too satisfied he himself was most guilty of, in that he well to think of staying there; and the next day might have prevented them by speaking his dispretended to have received a letter out of the pleasure sooner.' Besides which, the king said, country that my father was dying, and got my dis-he was in general averse to tortures, which was charge with a bounty for my discretion.
The next I lived with was a peevish single man, whom I stayed with for a year and a half. Most part of the time I passed very easily; for when I hegan to know him, I minded, no more than he eant, what he said; so that one day in a good Lumour he said, "I was the best man he ever had, my want of respect to him."
putting human nature itself, rather than the criminal, to disgrace; and that he would be sure not to use this means where the crime was but an ill effect arising from a laudable cause, the fear of shame.' The king, at the same time, spoke with much grace upon the subject of mercy; and repented of many acts of that kind which had a magnificent aspect in the doing, but dreadful conThese, sir, are the chief occurrences of my life, sequences in the example. Mercy to particulars,' I will not dwell upon very many other places he observed, was cruelty in the general: that I have been in, where I have been the strangest though a prince could not revive a dead man by low in the world, where nobody in the world taking the life of him who killed him, neither could ad such servants as they, where sure they were the he make reparation to the next that should die by nluckiest people in the world in servants, and so the evil example; or answer to himself for the parforth. All I mean by this representation is, to tiality in not pardoning the next as well as the how you that we poor servants are not (what you former offender.'' As for me,' says Pharamond, ailed as too generally) all rogues; but that weI have conquered France, and yet have given are what we are, according to the example of our laws to my people. The laws are my methods of periors. In the family I am now in, I am guilty life; they are not a diminution but a direction to of no one sin but lying; which I do with a grave my power. I am still absolute to distinguish the face in my gown and staff every day I live, and innocent and the virtuous, to give honours to the almost all day long, in denying my lord to imper- brave and generous; I am absolute in my goodnent suitors, and my lady to unwelcome visitants. will; none can oppose my bounty, or prescribe But, sir, I am to let you know that I am, when I rules for my favour. While I can, as I please, an get abroad, a leader of the servants: I am he reward the good, I am under no pain that I cannot at keeps time with beating my cudgel against the pardon the wicked; for which reason,' continued ards in the gallery at an opera; I am he that Pharamond, I will effectually put a stop to this touched so properly at a tragedy, when the evil, by exposing no more the tenderness of my people of quality are staring at one another during nature to the importunity of having the same the most important incidents. When you hear in
a crowd a cry in the right place, a hum where the
* See No. 76 and No. 84.