CALI(0% ,A:0FCA['F09.fc- ,Mm^' "-^ ^ ^^ ^ v* ]]:!riV i^^> dOyiNGtL^; ->: V"^^"":::":^ ^ If "^nDNVsOi^ fr THE GUARDIAN; CORRECTED FROM THE ORIGINALS, L A PREFACE, HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL, BY A. CHALMERS, F.S.A. yOL. II. LONDON: r-CINTKI) FOR F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON ; J. MCHOLS AND CO.; PAYNE AND FOSS ; G. WII.KIE; CLARKE AND SONS; J. M;NN; LONGMAN, HL'RST, REES, ORME, AND CO.; E. JEF- FERY; W. OTRIUGE ; CADELL AND DAVIES ; S. BAGSTER ; J. RICHARDSON ; J. MAW.MAN ; BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; J. BOOKER ; R. S. KIRBY ; GALE AND FENNER; ROD- WELL AND martin; WALKER AND EDWARDS; AND K. SAUNDERS. 1817. J. M'Creery, Printer, Black-Horse-Court, Fleet Street, LoaJou., r '1^ C X CONTENTS. VOL. II. No. 53- I31PORTANCE of Christianity to Virtue . . beIikeley 56. Reproof and Reproach, a Vision parnem, 57. Of Courtship Questions and Rules for Steele 58. Public Spirit Letter from a Hackney Author from a Patriotic Drinker from an ostentatious Lady . , 59. Letters on Cato 60. On the various modes of reading Books . . 61. On Cruelty to the Brute Creation Fable of Pilpay POPE 62. Visit to Westminster School Utility of public Seminaries Berkeley 63. Strictures on the Examiner Extract from Lucas's Practical Christianity . . . steele 6'i. Petition of the Artificers, of Esau Ring- wood, Susannah How-d'ye-call, and Hugh Pounce Letter on Cato 65. Improper Conduct at Church Poverty of the Clergy hurtful to Religion .... 66. Common Fame, a Vision parnelj. 67. Fate of Poets Recommendation of Tom D'Urfey addison 6Q. Lietters on the Wife proposed to Sir Harry lizard STEELE J Yl CONTENTS. No. 69 On Fenelon's Demonstration of the Exis- tence, Wisdom, and Omnipotence of God STEELE 70. Analogy between St. Paul's and tlie Christian Chinch Narrowness of Free- thinlcers Berkeley 71. Observations on the Increase of Lions Character of a Lion addison 72. On the Oxford Terrae-filius Abuse of his Office STEELS 73. On tlie improper Interference of Pa- rents in tiie Disposal of their Children Letters on Passio/i Peevishness Shyness 74. Extract And imitates in vain the children's cries.' j Dryden. Perhaps that voice or cry so nearly resembling the human, witli which Providence has endued so many different animals, might purposely be given them to move our pity, and prevent those cruelties we are too apt to inflict on our fellow -creatures. There is a passage in the book of Jonas, when God declares his unwillingness to destroy Nineveh, where methinks that compassion of the Creator, which extends to the meanest rank of his creatures, is expressed with wonderful tenderness. ' Should I not spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than six score thousand persons and also much cattle ?' And we have in Deutei'onomy a precept of great good-nature of this sort, with a blessing in form annexed to it, in those words : * If thou shalt find a bird's nest in the way, thou shalt not take the dam with the young; But thou shalt in any wise let the dam go ; that it may be well with thee, and that thou may'st prolong thy days.' To conclude, there is certainly a degree of grati- tude owing to those animals that serve us. As for such as are mortal or noxious, we have a right to destroy them ; and for those that are neither of ad- vantage or prejudice to us, the common enjoyment of life is what I cannot think we ought to deprive them of. This whole matter with regard to each of these considerations, is set in a very agreeable liijht ia one of the Persian fables of Pilpay, with wliicli I shall end this paper. k3 40 GUARDIAN. N" ()1. A traveller passinc: tlirou<2;h a thicket, and seeing a lew sparks of a fire, which some passengers had kindled as they went that way before, made up to it. On a sudden the sparks caught hold of a bush, in the midst of which lay an adder, and set it in flames. The adder intreated the traveller's assist- ance, who tying a bag to the end of his staff, reach- ed it, and drew him out : he then bid him go where he pleased, but never more be hurtful to men, since he owed his life to a man's compassion. The adder, however, prepared to sting him, and when he expostulated how unjust it was to retaliate good with evil, * I shall do no more,' said the adder, ' than what you men practise every day, whose custom it is to requite benefits with ingratitude. If you cannot deny this truth, let us refer it to the first we meet.' The man consented, and seeing a tree, put the question to it, in what manner a good turn was to be recompensed ? ' If you mean ac- cording to the usage of men,' replied the tree, ' by its contrary : I have been standing here these hun- dred years, to protect them from the scorching sun, and in rctjuital thej'^ have cut down my branches, and are going to saw my body into planks.' Upon this, the adder insulting the man, he appealed to a second evidence, which was granted, and immedi- ately they met a cow. The same demand was maoe, and much the same answer given, that among men it was certainly so. * I know it,' said the cow, ' by woful experience ; for I have served a man this long time with milk, butter, and cheese, and brought him besides a calf every j'ear; but now I am old, he turns me into this pasture, with design lo sell me to a butcher, who will shortly make an end of me.' The traveller upon this stood confounded, but desired, of courtesy, one trial N* 62. GUARDIAN. 41 more, to be finally judged by the next beast they should meet. This happened to be the fox, who, upon hearing the story in all its circumstances, could not be persuaded it was possible for the adder to enter into so narrow a bag. The adder, to con- vince him, went in again ; when the fox told the man he had now his enemy in his power, and with that he fastened the bag, and crushed him to pieces. ISP 62. FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1713. O/ortunatos nimium, sua si bona ndrint! ViRC. Georg, ii. ver. 458. Too happy, if they knew their happy state. Upon the late election of king's scholars, my cu- riosity drew me to Westminster-school. The sight of a place where I had not been for many years, revived in my thoughts the tender images of my childhood, which by a great length of time had contracted a softness, that rendered them inexpres- sibly agreeable. As it is usual with me to draw a secret unenvied pleasure from a thousand incidents overlooked by other men, I threw myself into a short transport, forgetting my age, and fancying myself a school-boy. This imagination was strongly favoured by the presence of so many young boys, in whose looks ucre legible the sprightly passions of that age which e3 42 GUARDIAN. N^ 62; raised in me a sort of sympathy. Warm blood thrilled through every vein ; the faded memory of those enjoyments that once gave me pleasure put on more lively colours, and a thousand gay amuse- ments filled my mind. It was not without regret, that I was forsaken by this waking dream. The cheapness of puerile de- lights, the guiltless joy they leave upon the mind, the blooming hopes that lift up the soul in the ascent of life, the pleasure that attends the gradual open- ing of the imagination, and the dawn of reason, made me think most men found that stage the most agreeable part of their journey. When men come to riper years, the innocent diversions which exalted the spirits, and produced health of body, indolence of mind, and refreshing slumbers, are too often exchanged for criminal delights, which fill the soul with anguish, and the body with disease. The grateful employment of admiring and raising themselves to an imitation of tile polite style, beautiful images, and noble senti- ments of ancient authors, is abandoned for law- latin, the lucubrations of our paltry news-mongers, and that' swarm of vile pamphlets, which corrupt our taste, and infest the public. The ideas of vir- tue which the characters of heroes had imprinted on their minds, insensibly wear out, and they come to be influenced by the nearer examples of a degene- rate age. In the morning of life, when the soul first makes her entrance into the world, all things look fresh and gay ; their novelty surprises, and every little glitter or gaudy colour transports the stranger. But by degrees the sense grows callous, and we lose that exquisite relish of trifles by the time our minds should be supposed ripe for rational entertainments. N' 62. GUAKDIAN. 45 I cannot make this reflection without being touched with a commiseration of that species called beaux, the happiness of those men necessarily terminating with their childhood; who from a want of knowing other pursuits, continue a fondness for the delights of that age, after the relish of them is decayed. Providence hath with a bountiful hand prepared rariety of pleasures for the various stages of life. It behoves us not to be wanting to ourselves, in for- warding the intention of nature, by the culture of our minds and a due preparation of each faculty for the enjoyment of those objects it is capable of being affected with. As our parts open and display by gentle degrees, we rise from the gratifications of sense, to relish those of the mind. In the scale of pleasure, the lowest are sensual delights, which are succeeded by the more enlarged views and gay portraitures of a lively imagination ; and these give way to the sub- limer pleasures of reason, which discover the causes and designs, the frame, connexion, and symmetry of things, and fill the mind with the contemplation of intellectual beauty, order, and truth. Hence I regard our public schools and universi- ties not only as nurseries of men for the service of the church and state, but also as places designed to teach mankind the most refined luxury, to raise the mind to its due perfection, and give it a taste for those entertainments which afford the highest trans- port, without the grossness or remorse that attend vulgar enjoyments. In those blessed retreats men enjoy the sweets of solitude, and yet converse with the greatest genii that have appeared in every age, wander through the delightful mazes of every art and science, and as they gradually enlarge their sphere of knowledge. 44 GUARDIAN. N* 62. at once rejoice in their present possessions, and are animated by the boundless prospect of future dis- coveries. Tliere a generous emulation, a noble thirst of fame, a love of truth and honourable re- gards, reign in minds as yet untainted from the world. There, the stock of learning transmitted down from the ancients, is preserved, and receives a daily increase ; and it is thence propagated by men, who, having finished their studies, go into the world, and spread that general knowledge and good taste throughout the land, which is so distant from the barbarism of its ancient inhabitants, or the fierce genius of its invaders. And as it is evident that our literature is owing to the schools and uni- versities, so it cannot be denied that these are owing to our religion. It was chiefly, if not altogether, upon religious considerations that princes, as well as private per- sons, have erected colleges, and assigned liberal endowments to students and professors. Upon the same account they meet with encouragement and protection from all Christian states, as being esteem- ed a necessary means* to have the sacred oracles and primitive traditions of Christianity preserved and understood. And it is well known that after a long night of ignorance and superstition, the re- formation of the church and that of learning began together, and made proportionable advances, the latter having been the effect of the former, which of course engaged men in the study of the learned lan- guages, and of antiquity. Or, if a free-thinker is ignorant of these facts, he may be convinced from the manifest reason of the thing. Is it not plain that our skill in literature is Mean ; plural for the singular number. n'^Gs. guardian. 45 owing: to 9aXj(*oTtr(V iJeo-Sai, *y Je <})a6( Jtai oXara-ov. HoM. II. xvii. 645. O King ! O Father ! hear my humble prayer : Dispel this cloud, the liglit of heaven restore, Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more : If Greece must perish; we thy will obey, But let us perish in the face of day ! Pops. 1 AM obliged, for many reasons, to insert this first letter, though it takes me out of my way, especially on a Saturday ; but the ribaldry of some part of that will be abundantly made up by the quotation in the second. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' siK, Friday, May 22, 1713. ' The Examiner of this day consists of reflections upon the letter I writ to you, published in yours of the twelfth instant. The sentence upon which he spends most of his invectives, is this, " I will give myself no manner of liberty to make guesses at him, if I may say ' him ;' for though sometimes I have been told by familiar friends, that they saw me such a time talking to the Examiner : others who have rallied me upon the sins of my youth, tell me it is credibly reported that I have formerly lain with the Examiner." n"6S. guardian. 47 ' Now, Mr. Ironside, what was there in all this, but saying, " I cannot tell what to do in this case. There has been named for this paper one, for whom I have a value,* and another whom I cannot but neglect ?" I have named no man ; but if there be any gentleman, who wrongfully lies under the imputation of being or assisting the Examiner, he would do well to do himself justice, under his own hand, in the eye of the world. As to the exasperated mis- tress,-f the Examiner demands in her behalf, a " re- paration for offended innocence." This is pleasant language, when spoken of this person ; he wants to have me unsay what he makes me to have said be- fore. I declare then it was a false report, which was spread concerning me and a lady, sometimes reputed the author of the Examiner ; and I can now make her no reparation, but in begging her pardon, that I never lay with her. ' I speak all this only in regard to the Examiner's offended innocence, and will make no reply as to what relates merely to myself. " I have said be- fore he is welcome from henceforward, to treat me as he pleases." But the bit of Greek, which I in- treat you to put at the front of to-morrow's paper speaks all my sense on this occasion. It is a speech put in the mouth of Ajax, who is engaged in the dark : He cries out to Jupiter, " Give me but day- light, let me but see my foe, and let him destroy me if he can." ' But when he repeats his story of the " general for life," I cannot hear him with so much patience. He may insinuate what he pleases to the ministry of me ; but I am sure I could not, if I would, by detraction, do them more injury, than he does by Dr. Swift. t Mrs. D. Manley. 48 GUARDIAN. N 63. his ill-placed, ignorant, nauseous flattery. One of them, whose talent is address and skill in the world, he calls Cato ; another, whose praise is con- versation-wit and a taste of pleasures, is also Cato.* Can any thing in nature be more out of character, or more expose those, whom he would recommend, to the raillery of his adversaries, than comparing these to Cato ? But gentlemen of their eminence are to be treated with respect, and not to suffer, be- cause a sycophant has applauded them in a wrong place. ' As much as he says I am in defiance with those in present power, I will lay before them one point that would do them more honour than any one cir- cumstance in their whole administration ; which is, to shew their resentment of the Examiner's nause- ous applause of themselves, and licentious calumny of their predecessors. Till they do themselves that justice, men of sense will believe they are pleased with the adulation of a prostitute, who heaps upon them injudicious applauses, for which he makes way, by random abuse upon those who are in pre- sent possession of all that is laudable. I am. Sir, your most humble servant, Richard Steele.' TO MR. IRONSIDE, SIR, ' A MIND so well qualified as your's, must receive every day large improvements, when exercised upon such truths which are the glory of * See Examiner, Vol. III. No. 47, in folio, Harley and Bolingbroke. N 63. OUARDIAN. 49 our natures ; such as those which lead us to an end- less happiness in our Ufe succeeding this. I here- with send you Dr. Lucas's Practical Christianity, for your serious perusal. If you have already read it, I desire you would give it to one of your friends, who has not. 1 think you cannot recommend it better than in inserting by way of specimen these passages which I point to you, as follows. * That I have, in this state I am now in, a soul as well as a body, whose interest concerns me, is a truth my sense sufficiently discovers : For I feel joys and sorrows, which do not make their abode in the organs of the body, but in the inmost recesses of the mind ; pains and pleasures which sense is too gross and heavy to partake of, as the peace or trouble of conscience in the reflection upon good or evil actions, the delight or vexation of the mind, in the contemplation of, or a fruitless enquiry after, excellent and important truths. ' And since I have such a soul capable of happi- ness or misery, it naturally follows, that it vvere sottish and unreasonable to lose this boul for the gain of the whole world. For my soul is I myself, and if that be miserable, I must needs be so. Out- ward circumstances of fortune may give the world occasion to think me happy, but they can never make me so. Shall I call myself happy, if discon- tent and sorrow eat out the life and spirit of my soul ? if lusts and passions riot and nmtiny in my bosom ? if my sins scatter an uneasy shame all over me, and my guilt appals and frights me ? What avails it me, that my rooms are stately, my tables full, my attendants numerous, and my attire gaudy, if all this while my very being pines and languishes away ? These indeed are rich and pleasant things, but I nevertheless am a poor and miserable man. VOL. n. F 50 GUARDIAN. n'63. Therefore I conclude, that whatever this thing be I call a soul, though it were a perishing, dying thing, and would not out-live the body, yet it were my wisdom and intei-eSt to prefer its content and satis- faction before all the world, unless I could chuse to be miserable, and delight to be unhappy. ' This very consideration, supposing the uncer- tainty of another world, would yet strongly engage me to the service of religion ; for all it aims at, is to banish sin out of the world, which is the source and original of all the troubles that disquiet the mind ; 1, Sin, in its very essence, is nothing else but disordered, distempered passions, affections fool- ish and preposterous in their choice, or wild and ex- travagant in their proportion, which our own expe- rience sufficiently convinces us to be painful and uneasy. 3. It engages us in desperate hazards, wearies us with daily toils, and often buries us in the ruins we bring upon ourselves ; and lastly, it fills our hearts with distrust, and fear, and shame ; for we shall never be able to persuade ourselves fully, that there is no difference between good and evil ; that there is no God, or none that concerns himself at the actions of this life : and if vvc cannot, we can never rid ourselves of the pangs and stings of a troubled conscience ; we shall never be able to establish a peace and calm in our bosoms ; and so enjoy our pleasure with a clear and uninterrupted freedom. But if we could persuade ourselves into the utmost height of atheism, yet still we shall be under these two strange inconveniences: 1. That a life of sin will be still irregular and disorderly, and therefore troublesome : 2. That we shall have dismantled our souls of their greatest strength, and disarmed them of that faith which can only support them under the afflictions of this present life.' N' 64. GUARDIAN. 51 N' 64. MONDAY, MAY 25, 1713. Levium spedacula rerum. ViRG. Georg. iv. ver. 3. Trifles set out to shew. 1 AM told by several persons whom I Lave taken into my ward,* that it is to their great damage I have digressed so much of late from the natural course of my precautions. They have addressed and petition- ed me with appellations and titles, which admonish me to be that sort of patron which they want me to be, as follows. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' Patron of the industrious. * The humble petition of John Longbottom, Charles Lilly, Bat. Pidgeon, and J. Norwood, capital artificers, most humbly sheweth, ' That your petitioners behold with great sorrow, your honour employing your important moments in remedying matters which nothing but time can cure, and which do not so immediately, or at least so professedly, appertain to your office, as do the concerns of us your petitioners, and other handi- craft persons, who excel in their different and re- spective dexterities. ' That as all mechanics are employed in accom- modating the dwellings, clothing the persons^ or * Wardship. f 3 ,52 GUARDIAN. NO 64. preparing the diet of mankind, your petitioners ought to be placed first in your guardianship, as being useful in a degree superior to all other workmen, and as being wholly conversant in clearing and adorning the head of man. ' That the said Longbottom, above all the rest of mankind, is skilful in taking off that horrid ex- crescence on the chins of all males, and casting, by the touch of his hand, a chearfulness where that excrescence grew ; an art known only to this your artificer. ' That Charles Lilly prepares snuff and perfumes, which refresh the brain in those that have too much for their quiet, and gladdens it in those who have too little to know their want of it. ' That Bat. Pidgeon cuts the luxuriant locks growing from the upper part of the head, in so art- ful a manner, with regard to the visage, that he makes the ringlets, falling by the temples, conspire with the brows and lashes of the eye, to heighten the expressions of modesty, and intimations of good- will, which are most infallibly communicated by ocular glances. ' That J. Norwood forms periwigs with respect to particular persons and visages, on the same plan that Bat. Pidgeon corrects natural hair ; that he has a strict regard to the climate under which his cus- tomer was born, before he pretends to cover his head ; that no part of his wig is composed of hair which grew above twenty miles from the buyer's place of nativity ; that the very necklock grew in the same country, and all the hair to the face in the very pa- rish where he was born. ' That these your cephalic operators humbly in- treat your more frequent attention to the mechanic arts, and that you would place your petitioners at N 64. GUARDIAN. 53 the head of the family of cosmetics, and your peti- tioners shall ever pray, &c.' ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. Guardian of good fame. ' Thm^iemorial of Esau Ringwood sheweth, *That though nymphs and shepherds, sonnets and complaints, are no more to be seen or heard in the forests and chases of Great Britain, yet are not the huntsmen who now frequent the woods so bar- barous as represented in the Guardian of the twenty- first instant ; that the knife is not presented to the lady of quality by the huntsman to cut the throat of the deer ; but after he is killed, that in- strument is given her, as the animal is now become food, in token that all our labour, joy, and exul- tation in the pursuit, were excited from the sole hope of making the stag an offering to her table; that your honour has detracted from the humanity of sportsmen in this representation ; that they demand you would retract your error, and distinguish Bri- tons from Scythians. ' P. S. Repent, and eat venison.' ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, Avenger of detraction. ' The humble petition of Susannah How-d'ye-call most humbly sheweth, * That your petitioner is mentioned at all visits, with an account of facts done by her, of speeches she has made, and of journeys she has taken, to all which circumstances your petitioner is wholly a stranger ; that in every family in Great Britain, f3 54 GUARDIAN. N" 64. glasses and cups are broken, and utensils displaced, and all these faults laid upon Mrs. How -d'ye- call ; that your petitioner has applied to counsel, upon these grievances; that your petitioner is advised, that her case is the same with that of John-a-Styles, and that she is abused only by way of form ; your petitioner therefore most humbly prays, that in be- half of herself, and all others defamed under the term of Mr. or Mrs. How-d'ye-call, you will grant her and them the following concessions ; that no re- proach shall take place where the person has not an opportunity of defending himself; that the phrase of a 'certain person' means ' no certain person:' that the ' How-d'ye-calls/ ' some people,' a cer- tain set of men,' ' there are folks now-a-days,' and * things are come to that pass,' are words that shall concern * nobody' after the present Monday in Whitsun-week, 1713. ' That it is baseness to offend any person, except the offender exposes himself to that person's exami- nation ; that no woman is defamed by any man, without he names her name ; that ' exasperated mistress,' ' false fair,' and the like, shall from the same Whitsun-Monday, signify no more than Chloe, Corinna, or Mrs. How-d'ye-call; that your petition- er, being an old maid, may be joined in marriage to John-a-Nokes, or, in case of his being resolved upon celibacy, to Tom Long, the carrier, and your petitioner shall ever pray, &c. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' The humble petition of Hugh Pounce, of Grub- street, shcweth, ' That in your first paper you have touched upon the affinity between all arts which concern the N" 64. GUARDIAN. 65 good of society, and professed that you should pro- mote a g'ood understanding between them. * That your petitioner is skilful in the art and mystery of writing verses or distichs. ' That your petitioner does not write for vain- glory, but for the use of society. * That, like the art of painting upon glass,* the more durable work of writing upon iron is almost lost. ' That your petitioner is retained as poet to the Ironmongers company. ' Your petitioner therefore humbly desires you would protect him in the sole making of posies for knives, and all manner of learning to be wrought on iron, and your petitioner shall ever pray.* ' TO THE GUARDIAN. ' SIR, ' Though every body has been talk- ing or writing on the subject of Cato, ever since the world was obliged with that tragedy, there has not, methinks, been an examination of it, which sufficiently shews the skill of the author merely as a poet. There are peculiar graces which ordinary readers ought to be instructed how to admire ; among others, I am charmed with his artificial ex- pressions in well adapted similies : there is no part of writing in which it is more difficult to succeed, for on sublime occasions it requires at once the utmost strength of the imagination, and the severest correction of the judgment. Thus Syphax, when he is forming to himself the sudden and unexpected destruction which is to befal the man he hates, * The art of painting on glass was never lost. See Wal- pole's Anecdotes of Painting, &c. vol. ii. p. 26. et seq. 56 GUARDIAN. K 64. expresses himself in an image which none but a Numidian could have a lively sense of; but yet, if the author had ranged over all the objects upon the face of the earth, he could not have found a repre- sentation of a disaster so great, so sudden, and so dreadful as this : * So where our wide Natnidian wastes extend, Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend, Wheel through the air, in circHng eddies play, Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away, The helpless traveller, with wild surprise, "^ Sees the dry desert all around him rise, > And smothcr'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.' j When Sempronius promises himself the possession of Marcia by a rape, he triumphs in the prospect, and exults in his villany, by representing it to him- self in a manner wonderfully suited to the vanity and impiety of his character. ' So Pluto, seiz'd of Proserpine, convey'd To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighled maid ; There grimly smil'd, pleas'd with the beauteous prize, Nor envy'd Jove his sunshine and hb skies. Pray old Nestor, trouble thyself no more with the squabbles of old lovers ; tell them from me, now they are past the sins of the flesh, they are got into those of the spirit; Desire hurts the soul less than Malice ; it is not now, as when they were Sappho and Phaon. I am. Sir, Your affectionate humble servant, A. B.' N" 65. GtARDIAN. 57 N65. TUESDAY, MAY 26, 1713. Inter scahietn tantam ct contagia. HoR. 1 Ep. xii. 13. Amidst the poison of snch infectious times. 1 HERE is not any where, I believe, so much talk about religion, as among us in England ; nor do I think it possible for the wit of man to devise forms to address to the Almighty, in more ardent and forcible terms than are every where to be found in our book of common prayer ; and yet I have heard it read with such negligence, affectation, and im- patience, that the efficacy of it has been apparent- ly lost to all the congregation. For my part, I make no scruple to own it, that I go sometimes to a particular place in the city, far distant from my own home, to hear a gentleman, whose manner I admire, read the liturgy. I am persuaded devo- tion is the greatest pleasure of his soul, and there is none hears him read without the utmost reve- rence. I have seen the young people, who have been interchanging glances of passion to each other's persons, checked into an attention to the service at the interruption which the authority of his voice has given them. But the other morning I happened to rise earlier than ordinary, and thought I could not pass my time better, than to go upon the admonition of the morning bell, to the church prayers at six of the clock. I was there the first of any in the congregation, and had the 58 GUARDIAN. n" 65. opportunity, however I made use of it, to look back on all my life, and contemplate the blessing and advantage of such stated early hours for offer- ing ourselves to our Creator, and prepossessing ourselves with the love of Him, and the hopes we have from Him, against the snares of business and pleasure in the ensuing day. But whether it be that people think fit to indulge their own ease in some secret, pleasing fault, or whatever it was, there was none* at the confession but a set of poor scrubs of us, who could sin only in our wills, whose persons could be no temptation to one another, and might have, without interruption from any body else, humble, lowly hearts, in trightful looks and dirty dresses, at our leisure. When we poor souls had presented ourselves with a contrition suit- able to our worthlessness, some pretty young ladies in mobs, popped in here and there about the church, clattering the pew-door after them, and squatting into a whisper behind their fans. Among Others, one of lady Lizard's daughters, and her hopeful maid, made their entrance : the young lady did not omit the ardent form behind the fan, while the maid immediately gaped round her to look for some other devout person, whom I saw at a distance very well dressed ; his air and habit a little military, but in the pertness, not the true possession, of the martial character. This jackanapes was fixed at the end of a pew, with the utmost impudence, de- claring, by a fixed eye on that seat (where our beauty was placed) the object of his devotion. This obscene sight gave me all the indignation imaginable, and I could attend to nothing but the reflection that the greatest affronts imaginable are Contr. for no one. N" 65. GUARDIAN. 59 such as no one can take notice of. Before I was out of such vexatious inadvertencies to the business of the place, there was a great deal of good company now come in. There was a good number of very janty slatterns, who gave us to understand, that it is neither dress nor art to which they were beholden for the town's admiration. Besides these, there were also by this time arrived two or three sets of whis- perers, who carry on most of their calumnies by what they entertain one another with in that place, and we were now altogether very good companjr. There were indeed a ftw, in whose looks there ap- peared an heavenly joy and gladness upon the en- trance of a new day, as if they had gone to sleep with expectation of it. For the sake of these it is worth while that the church keeps up such early matins throughout the cities of London and West- minster ; but the generality of those who observe that hour, perform it with so tasteless a behaviour, that it appears a task rather than a voluntary act. But of all the world, those familiar ducks who are, as it were, at home at the church, and by frequently meeting there throw the lime of prayer very negli- gently into their common life, and make their com- ing together in that place as ordinary as any other action, and do not turn their conversation upon any improvements suitable to the true design of that house, but on trifles below even their worldly con- cerns and characters.* These are little groups of acquaintance dispersed in all parts of the town, who are, forsooth, the only people of unspotted charac- ters, and throw all the spots that slick on those of other people. Malice is the ordinary vice of those A verb seems wanting here, to explain the censure im- plied in tUis sentence. do GUARDIAN. n" 65. who live in the mode of rehgion, without the spirit of it. The pleasurable world are hurried by their pas&ions above the consideration of what others think of them, into a pursuit of irregular enjoyments ; while these, who forbear the gratifications of flesh and bloodj without having won over the spirit to the interests of virtue, are implacable in defamations on the errors of such who offend without respect to fame. But the consideration of persons whom one cannot but take notice of, when one sees them in that place, has drawn me out of my intended talk, which was to bewail that people do not know the pleasure of early hours, and of dedicating their first moments of the day, with joy and singleness of heart, to their Creator. Experience would convince us, that the earlier we left our beds, the seldomer we should be confined to them. One great good which would also accrue from this, were it become a fashion, would be, that it is possible our chief divines would condescend to pray themselves, or at least those whom they substitute would be better supplied, than to be forced to ap- pear at those oraisons in a garb and attire which makes them appear mortified with worldly want, and not abstracted from the world by the contempt of it. How is it possible for a gentleman, under the income of fifty pounds a year, to be attentive to sublime things ? He must rise and dress like a labourer for sordid hire, instead of approaching his place of service with the utmost pleasure and satis- faction, that now he is going to be mouth of a crowd of people who have laid aside all the distinc- tions of this contemptible being, to beseech a pro- tection under its manifold pains and disadvantages, or a release from it, by his favour who sent them into it. He would, with decent superiority, look ^" 65. GTjARDIAN. 6l upon himself as orator before the throne of grace, for a crowd, who hang upon his words, while he asks for them all that is necessary in a transitory life; from the assurance that a good behaviour, for a few moments in it, will purchase endless joy and happy immortality. But who can place himself in this view, who, though not pinched with want, is distracted with care from the fear of it? No; a man, in the least degree below the spirit of a saint or a martyr, will loll, huddle over his duty, look confused, or assume a resolution in his behaviour which will be quite as ungraceful, except he is supported above the necessi- ties of life. ' Power and commandment to his minister to declare and pronounce to his people,' is mentioned with a very unguarded* air, when the speaker is known in his own private condition to be almost an object of their pity and charity. This last circum- stance, with many others here loosely suggested, are the occasion that one knows not how to recom- mend, to such as have not already a fixed sense of devotion, the pleasure of passing the earliest hours of the day in a public congregation. But were this morning solemnity as much in vogue, even as it is now at more advanced hours of the day, it would necessarily have so good an effect upon us, as to make us more disengaged and cheerful in conver- sation, and less artful and insincere in business. The world would be quite another place, than it is now, the rest of the day ; and every face would have an alacrity in it, which can be borrowed from no other reflections, but those which give us the as- sured protection of Omnipotence. * Unregarded. VOL. u. Q 62 GUARDIAN. iS" 6G. JSf" 66. WEDNESDAY, MAY 27, 1713. Sape tribus lectis videos canare quaternos ; E quibus unus avet quavis aspergere cutictos, Prater eutn qui prtebet aquam ; post, hunc qnoque HoR. 1. Sat. iv. 86. Set twelve at supper ; one above the rest, Takes all the talk, and breaks a scurvy jest On all, except the master of the feast ; At last on him 1 HE following letter is full of imagination, and in a fabulous manner sets forth a connexion between things, and an alliance between persons, that are very distant and remote to common eyes. I think I know the hand to be that of a very ingenious man,* and shall therefore give it the reader without farther preface. TO THE GUARDIAN. ' SIK, ' Thehe is a set of mankind, who are wholly employed in the ill-natured office of gather- ing up a collection of stories that lessen the reputa- tion of others, and spreading them abroad with a certain air of satisfaction. Perhaps indeed, an in- nocent unmeaning curiosity, a desire of being in- formed concerning those we live with, or a willing- ness to profit by reflection upon the actions of others, may sometimes afford an excuse, or some- times a defence for inquisitiveness ; but certainly it is beyond all excuse a transgression against hvima- Dr. Parnell. n" 06. GUARDIAN. 63 nity, to carry the matter farther, to tear off the dressings as I may say, from the wounds of a friend, and expose them to the air in cruel fits of diversion ; and yet we have something more to be- moan, an outrage of a higher nature, which man- kind is guilty of when they are not content to spread the stories of folly, frailty, and vice, but even enlarge them, or invent new ones, and blacken characters, that we may appear ridiculous or hate- ful to one another. From such practices as these it happens, that some feel a sorrow, and others are agitated with a spirit of revenge ; that scandals or lies are told, because another has told such before ; that resentments and quarrels arise, and affronts and injuries are given, received and multiphed, in a scene of vengeance. ' All this I have often observed with abundance of concern, and having a perfect desire to further the happiness of mankind, I lately set myself to consider the cause from whence such evils arise, and the remedies which may be applied. Where- upon I shut my eyes to prevent a distraction from outward objects, and a while after shot away, upon an impulse of thought, into the world of ideas, where abstracted qualities became visible in such appearances as were agreeable to each of their natures. " That part of the country where I happened to light, was the most noisy that I had ever known. The winds whistled, the leaves rustled, the brooks rumbled, the birds chattered, the tongues of men were heard, and the echo mingled something of every sound in its repetition, so that there was a strange confusion and uproar of sounds about me. At length, as the noise still increased, I could dis- cern a man habited like a herald, and (as I after- g3 64 GUARDIAN. N" 66. wards understood) called Novelty, that came for- ward proclaiming a solemn day to be kept at the house of Common Fame. Immediately behind him advanced three nymphs, who had monstrous ap- pearances. The first of these was Curiosity, habit- ed like a virgin, and having an hundred ears about her head to serve in her inquiries. The second of these was Talkativeness, a little better grown ; she seemed to be like a young wife, and had an hun- dred tongues to spread her stories. The third was Censoriousness, habited like a widow, and surround- ed with an hundred squinting eyes of a malignant influence, which so obliquely darted on all around, that it was impossible to say which of them had brought in the information she boasted of. These, as I was informed, had been very instrumental in preserving and rearing Common Fame, when upon her birth-day she was shuffled into a crowd, to es- cape the search which Truth might have made after her and her parents. Curiosity found her there. Talkativeness conveyed her away, and Censorious- ness so nursed her up, that in a short time she grew to a prodigious size, and obtained an empire over the universe ; wherefore the Power, in grati- tude for these services, has since advanced them to her highest employments. The next who came for- ward in the procession was a light damsel, called Credulity, who carried behind them the lamp, the silver vessel with a spout, and other instruments proper for this solemn occasion.* ' She had formerly seen these three together, and conjecturing from the number of their ears, tongues, and eyes, that they might be the proper genii of Attention, Familiar Converse, and Ocular * Tea equipage. i^"66. GUARDIAN. 65 Demonstration, she from that time gave herself up to attend them. The last who followed were some who had closely muffled themselves in upper gar- ments, so that I could not discern who they were ; but just as the foremost of them was come up, I am glad, says she, calhng me by my name, to meet you at this time ; stay close by me, and take a strict ob- servation of all that passes : her voice was sweet and commanding, I thought I had somewhere heard it; and from her, as I went along, I learned the meaning of every thing which offered. ' We now marched forward through the Eookery of Rumours, which flew thick, and with a terrible dill, all around us. At length we arrived at the house of Common Fame, where a hecatomb of re- putations was that day to fall for her pleasure. The iiouse stood upon an eminence, having a thousand passages to it, and a thousand whispering holes for the conveyance of sound. The hall we entered was formed with the art of a music-chamber for the improvement of noises. Rest and silence are ba- nished the place. Stories of different natures wan- der in light flocks all about, sometimes truths and lies, or sometimes lies themselves, clashing against one another. In the middle stood a table painted after the manner of the remotest Asiatic coun- tries, upon which the lamp, the silver vessel, and cups of a white earth, were planted in order. Then dried herbs were brought, collected for the solemnity in moon-shine, and water being put to them, there was a greenish liquor made, to which they added the flower of milk, and an extraction from the canes of America, for performing a libation to the infernal powers of Mischief After this. Curiosity, retiring to a withdrawing room, brought forth the victims, being to appearance a set of g3 66 ODARDIAN. N" C)6. small waxen images, which she laid upon the table one after another. Immediately then Talkativeness gave each of them the name of some one, whom for that time they were to represent; and Censori- ousness stuck them all about with black pins, still pronouncing at every one she stuck, something to the prejudice of the persons represented. No sooner were these rites performed, and incantations ut- tered, but the sound of a speaking trumpet was heard in the air, by which they knew the deity of the place was propitiated, and assisting. Upon this the sky grew darker, a storm arose, and murmurs, sighs, groans, cries, and the words of grief, or re- sentment, were heard within it. Thus the three sor- ceresses discovered, that they whose names they had given to the images, were already affected with what was done to them in effigy. The knowledge of this was received with the loudest laughter, and in many congratulatory words they applauded one another's wit and power. ' As matters were at this high point of disorder, the muffled lady, whom I attended on, being no longer able to endure such barbarous proceedings, threw off her upper garment of Reserve, and ap- peared to be Truth. As soon as she had confessed herself present, the speaking-trumpet ceased to sound, the sky cleared up, the storm abated, the noises which were heard in it ended, the laughter of the company was over, and a serene light, until then unknown to the place, diffused around it. At this the detected sorceresses endeavoured to escape in a cloud which I saw begip to thicken round them ; but it was soon dispersed, their charms be- ing controlled, and prevailed over by the superior divinity. For my part I was exceedingly glad to gee it so, and began to consider what punishment K" 66. GUAKDIAN. 67 she would inflict upon them. I fancied it would be proper to cut off' Curiosity's ears, and fix them to the eaves of the houses : to nail the tongues of Talkativeness to Indian tables ; and to put out the eyes of Censoriousness with a flash of her light. In respect of Credulity, I had indeed some little pity, and had I been judge, she might, perhaps, have escaped with a hearty reproof. ' But I soon found that the discerning judge had other designs. She knew them for such as will not be destroyed entirely while mankind is in being, and yet ought to have a brand and punishment affixed to them, that they may be avoided. Where- fore she took a seat for judgment, and had the criminals brought forward by Shame ever blushing, and Trouble with a whip of many lashes ; two phantoms who had dogged the procession in dis- guise, and waited until they had an authority from Truth to lay hands upon them. Immediately then she ordered Curiosity and Talkativeness to be fet- tered together, that the one should never suffer the other to rest, nor the other ever let her remain un- discovered. Light Credulity she linked to Shame at the tormentor's own request, who was pleased to be thus secure that her prisoner could not escape ; and this was done partly for her punishment, and partly for her amendment. Censoriousness was also in like manner begged by Trouble, and had her assigned for an eternal companion. After they were thus chained with one another, by the judge's order, she drove them from the presence to wander for ever through the world, with Novelty stalking before them. ' The cause being now over, she retreated from sight within the splendour of her own glory ; which leaving the house it had brightened, the sounds 63 GUAEDIAN. N*G7. that were proper to the place began to be as loud and confused as when we entered ; and there being no longer a clear distinguished appearance of any objects represented to nie, I returned from the ex- cursion I had made in fancy/ N67. THURSDAY, MAY 23, 1713. ni forte pudori Sic tibi Musa hjrme object, which stirs the soul in proportion to its ap- parent dimensions. Hence irrehgious men, whose short prospects are filled with earth, and sense, ai^d mortal life, are invited by these mean ideas, to ac tions proportion ably little and low. But a mind, whose views are enlightened and extended by reli- gion, is animated to nobler pursuits, by more sub- lime and remote objects. There is not any instance of weakness in the free- thinkers that raises my indignation more, than their pretending to ridicule Christians, as men of narrow understandings, and to pass themselves upon the world for persons of superior sense, and more en- larged views. But I leave it to any impartial man to judge which hath the nobler sentiments, which the greater views ; he whose notions are stinted to a few miserable inlets of sense, or he whose sen- timents are raised above the common taste, by the anticipation of those delights which will satiate the soul, when the whole capacity of her nature is branched out into new faculties ? He who looks for nothing beyond this short span of duration, or he whose aims are co-extended with the endless length of eternity ? He who derives his spirit from the elements, or he who thinks it was inspired by the Almighty ? J7l. XSUAKDIAIC. 87 N71. TUESDAY, JUNE 2, 17IS. Quale portentum neque militaris Daunia in latis alit esailetis; l^ec JuhcE tellus general, leonum Arida nutrix. Hou. 1 Od. xxii. 13. No beast, of more portentous size, In the Hercinian forest lies ; Nor fiercer in Numidia bred, With Carthage were in triumph led. Roscommon. 1 auESTioN not but tny country customers will be surprized to hear me complain that this town is, of late years, very much infested with lions : and will, perhaps, look upon it as a strange piece of news, when I assure them that there are many of these beasts of prey, who walii our streets in broad day- light, beating about from coffee-house to coffee- house, and seeking whom they may devour. To unriddle this paradox, I must acquaint my rural reader that we polite men of the town give the name of a lion to any one who is a great man's spy. And whereas I cannot discharge my office of Guardian, without setting a mark on such a noxious animal, and cautioning my wards against him, I design this whole paper as an essay upon the politi- cal lion. It has cost me a great deal of time to discover the reason of this appellation, but after many dis- quisitions and conjectures on so obscure a subject, 1 find there are two accounts of it more satisfactory 88 GUARDIAN. N71' than the rest. In the republic of Venice, which has been always the mother of politics, there are near the doge's palace several large figures of lions curi- ously wrought- in marble, with mouths gaping in a most enormous manner. Those who have a mind to give the state any private intelligence of what passes in the city, put their hands into the mouth of one of these Uons, and convey into it a paper of such private informations as any way regard the interest or safety of the commonwealth. By this means all the secrets of state come out of the lion's mouth. The informer is concealed; it is the lion that tells every thing. In short, there is not a mismanagement in office, or a murmur in conver- sation, which the lion does not acquaint the govern- ment with. For this reason, say the learned, a spy is very properly distinguished by the name of lion. I must confess this etymology is plausible enough, and I did for some time acquiesce in it, until about a year or two ago I met with a little ma- nuscript which sets this whole matter in a clear light. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, says my author, the renowned Walsingham had many spies in his service, from whom the government received great advantage. The most eminent among them was the statesman's barber, whose surname was Lion. This fellow had an admirable knack of fish- ing out the secrets of his customers, as they were imder his hands. He would rub and lather a man's head, until he had got out every thing that was in it. He had a certain snap in his fingers, and a volubility in his tongue, that would engage a man to talk with him whether he would or no. By this means he became an inexhaustible fund of private intelligence, and so signalized himself in the capa- K*?!. eUABDIAN. 09 city of a spy, that from his time a master-spy goes under the name of a lion. Walsingham had a most excellent penetration, and never attempted to turn any man into a lion, whom he did not see highly qualified for it, when he was in his human condition. Indeed the spe- culative men of those times say of him, that he would now and then play them off, and expose them a little unmercifully ; but that, in my opi- nion, seems only good policy, for otherwise they might set up for men again, when they thought fit, and desert his service. But however, though in that very corrupt age he made use of these animals, he had a great esteem for true men, and always exerted the highest generosity in offering them more, without asking terms of them, and doing more for them out of mere respect for their talents, though against him, than they could expect from any other minister whom they had served never so conspicuously. This made Raleigh (who profcst himself his opponent) say one day to a friend, ' Pox take this Walsingham, he baffles every body ; he won't so much as let a man hate him in private.' True it is, that by the wanderings, roarings, and lurkings, of his lions, he knew the way to every man breathing, who had not a contempt for the world itself; he had lions rampant whom he used for the service of the church, and couchant who were to lie down for the queen. They were so much at command, that the couchant would act as the rampant, and the rampant as couchant, with- out being the least out of countenance, and all thi within four and twenty hours. Walsingham had the pleasantest life in the world ; for, by the force of his power and intelligence, he saw men as they rcpvlly were, and not as tlie world thought of them. i3 OO GUARDTAN. N71. All this was principally brought about by feeding his lions well, or keeping them hungry, according to their different constitutions. Having given this short but necessary account of this statesman and his barber, who, like the tailor in Shakespeare's Pyramus and Thisbe, was a man made as other ttien are, notwithstanding he was a nominal lion, I shall proceed to the description of this strange species of creatures. Ever since the wise Walsingham was secretary in this nation, our statesmen are said to have encouraged the breed among us, as very well knowing that a lion in our British arms is one of the supporters of the crown, and that it is impossible for a government, in which there is such a variety of factions and intrigues, to subsist without this necessary animal. A lion, or a master-spy, hath several jack-calls under him, who are his retailers in intelligence, and bring him in materials for his report ; his chief haunt is a coffee-house, and as his voice is exceeding strong, it aggravates the sound of every thing it repeats. As the lion generally thirsts after blood, and is of a fierce and cruel nature, there are no secrets which he hunts after with more delight, than those that cut off heads, hang, draw, and quarter, or end in the ruin of the person who becomes his prey. If he gets the wind of any word or action that may do a man good, it is not for his purpose, he quits the chace and falls into a more agreeable scent. He discovers a wonderful sagacity in seeking after his prey. He couches and frisks about in a thousand sportful motions to draw it within his reach, and has a particular way of imitating the sound of the crea- ture whom he would ensnare ; an artifice to be met with in no beast of prey, except the hyaena and the political lion. N71. GUARDIAN. 91 You seldom see a cluster of news-mongers with- out a lion in the midst of them. He never misses taking his stand within ear-shot of one of those little ambitious men who set up for orators in places of public resort. If there is a whispering-hole, or any public spirited corner in a coffee-house, you never fail of seeing a lion couched upon his elbow in some part of the neighbourhood. A lion is particularly addicted to the perusal of every loose paper that lies in his way. He appears more than ordinary attentive to what he reads, while he listens to those who are about him. He takes up the post-man, and snuffs the candle that he may hear the better by it. I have seen a lion pore upon a single paragraph in an old gazette for two hours together, if his neighbours have been talking all that while. Having given a full description of this monster, for the benefit of such innocent persons as may fall into his walks, I shall apply a word or two to the lion him- self, whom I would desire to consider that he is a creature hated both by God and man, and regarded with the utmost contempt even by such as make use of him. Hangmen and executioners are necessary in a state, and so may the animal I have been here men- tioning ; but how despicable is the wretch that takes on him so vile an employment ? There is scarce a being that would not suffer by a comparison with him, except that being only who acts the same kind of part, and is both the tempter and accuser of man- kind. ' N. B. Mr. Ironside has, within five weeks last past, muzzled three lions, gorged five, and killed one. On Monday next the skin of the dead one will be hung up in terrorem, at Button's coffee-house over- against Tom's, in Covent-garden.' S5* gS 6UABDIAN. K''72. N72. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 3, 1713. In vitium libertM exddit, et vim Dignam lege regi HoR. Ars Poet. v. Its liberty was tnrn'd to rage; Such rage as civil power was forc'd to tame. Creech. Oxford is a place which I am more inquisitive about than even that of my nativity ; and when I have an account of any sprightly saying, or rising genius from thence, it brings my own youthful days into my mind, and throws me forty years back into life. It is for this reason, that I have thought my- self a little neglected of late by Jack Lizard, from whom I used to hear at least once a week. The last post brought me his excuse, which is, that he hath been wholly taken up in preparing some exer- cises for the theatre. He tells me likewise, that the talk there is about a public act, and that the gay part of the university have great expectation of a Terrse-filius, who is to lash and sting all the world in a satyrical speech. Against the great licence which hath heretofore been taken in these libels, he expresses himself with such humanity, as is very unusual in a young person, and ought to be cherish- ed and admired. For my own part I so far agree with him, that if the university permits a thing, which I think much better let alone ; I hope those, whose duty it is to appoint a proper person for that office, will take care that he utter nothing un- becoming a gentleman, a scholar, and a Christian. N** 72. GUARDIAN. QS Moreover I would have them consider that their learned body hath already enemies enough, who are prepared to aggravate all irreverent insinuations, and to interpret all oblique indecencies, who will triumph in such a victory, and bid the university thank her- self for the consequences. In my time I remember the Terrae-filius con- tented himself with being bitter upon the Pope, or chastising the Turk ; and raised a serious and manly mirth, and adapted to the dignity of his auditory, by exposing the false reasoning of the heretic, or ridiculing the clumsy pretenders to genius and po- liteness. In the jovial reign of king Charles the Second, wherein never did more wit or more ribaldry abound, the fashion of being arch upon all that was grave, and waggish upon the ladies, crept into our seats of learning upon these occasions. This was managed grossly and awkwardly enough, in a place where the general plainness and simplicity of man- ners could ill bear the mention of such crimes, as in courts and great cities are called by the specious names of air and gallantry. It is to me amazing, that ever any man, bred up in the knowledge of virtue and humanity, should so far cast off all shame and tenderness, as to stand up in the face of thou- sands, and utter such contumelies as I have read and heard of. Let such an one know that he is making fools merry, and wise men sick ; and that, in the eye of considering persons, he hath less compunc- tion than the common hangman, and less shame than a prostitute. Infamy is so cutting an evil, that most persons who have any elevation of soul, think it worse than death. Thos-e who have it not in their power to revenge it, often pine away in anguish, and loath their being ; and those who have, enjoy no rest 94 GUARDIAN. N' 72. until they have vengeance. I shall therefore make it the business of this paper to shew how base and ungenerous it is to traduce the women, and how dangerous it is to expose men of learning and cha- racter, who have generally been the subjects of these invectives. It hath bee.'i often said, that women seem formed to soften the boisterous passions, and sooth the cares and anxiv'ties to which men are exposed in the many perplcKities of life. That having weaker bodies, and less strength of mind, than man. Na- ture hath poured out her charms upon them, and given them such tenderness of heart, that the most delicate delight we receive from them is, in think- ing them entirely ours, and under our protection. Accordingly we find, that all nations have paid a decent homage to this weaker and lovelier part of the rational creation, in proportion to their re- moval from savageness and barbarism. Chastity and truth are the only due returns that they can make for this generous disposition in the nobler sex. For beauty is so far from satisfying us of itself, that whenever we think that it is communi- cated to others, we behold it with regret and dis- dain. Whoever therefore robs a woman of her re- putation, despoils a poor defenceless creature of all that makes her valuable, turns her beauty into loathsomeness, and leaves her friendless, abandon- ed, and undone. There are many tempers so soft, that the least calumny gives them pains they are not able to bear. They give tliemseives up to strange fears, gloomy reflections, and deep melan- choly. How savage must he be, who can sacrifice the quiet of such a mind to a transient burst of jnirth ! Let hinri who wantonly sports away the peace of a poor lady, consider what discord he K'TS. GUARDIAN. 95 sows in families ; how often he wrings the heart of an hoary parent ; how often he rouses the fury of a jealous husband; how he extorts from the abused woman curses, perhaps not unheard, and poured out in the bitterness of her soul ! What weapons hath she wherewith to repel such an outrage ! How shall she oppose her softness and imbecility to the hardened forehead of a coward, who hath trampled upon weakness that could not resist him ! to a buffoon, who halh slandered innocence, to raise the laughter of fools ! who hath * scattered firebrands, arrows, and death, and said, am I not in sport !' Irreverent reflections upon men of learning and note, if their character be sacred, do great disser- vice to religion, and betray a vile mind in the au- thor. I have therefore always thought, with indig- nation, upon that ' accuser of the brethren,' the famous antiquary,* whose employment it was for several years, to rake up all the ill-natured stories that had ever been fastened upon celebrated men, and transmit them to posterity with cruel industry, and malicious joy. Though the good men, ill-used, may out of a meek and christian disposition, so far subdue their natural resentment, as to neglect and foro-ive ; yet the inventors of such calumnies will find generous persons, whose bravery of mind makes them thmk themselves proper instruments to chastise such insolence. And I have in my time, more than once known the discipline of the blanket administered to the offenders, and all their slanders answered by that kind of syllogism which the ancient Romans called the ' argumentum bacilliaum.* ^ Mr. Anthony a Wood. 96 GUARDIAN. N 72. I have less compassion for men of sprightly parts and genius, whose characters are played upon, be- cause they have it in their power to avenge them- selves tenfold. But I think of all the classes of man- kind, they are the most pardonable if they pay the slanderer in his own coin. For their names being already blazed abroad in the world, the least blot thrown upon them is displayed far and wide ; and they have this sad privilege above the men in obscu- rity, that the dishonour travels as far as their fame. To be even therefore with their enemy, they are but too apt to diffuse his infamy as far as their own repu- tation ; and perhaps triumph in secret, that they have it in their power to make his name the scoff and deri- sion of after-ages. This, I say, they are too apt to do. For sometimes they resent the exposing of their little affectations or slips in writings as much as wounds upon their honour. The first are trifles they should laugh away, but the latter deserves their utmost severity. I must confess a warmth against the buffooneries mentioned in the beginning of this paper, as they have so many circumstances to aggravate their guilt. A licence for a man to stand up in the schools of the prophets, in a grave decent habit, and audaciously vent his obloquies against the doctors of our church, and directors of our young nobility, gentry and clergy, in their hearing and before their eyes ; to throw calumnies upon poor defenceless women, and offend their ears with nau- seous ribaldry, and name their names at length in a public theatre, when a queen* is upon the throne ; such a licence as this never yet gained ground in our playhouses ; and I hope will not * Queen Auue, mentioned merely as a queen. n" 72. GUARDIAN. 97 need a law to forbid it. Were I to advise in thij matter, I should represent to the orator how noble a field there lay before him for panegyric ; what a happy opportunity he had of doing justice to the great men who once were of that famous body, or now shine forth in it ; nor should I neglect to in- sinuate the advantages he might propose by gain- ing their friendship, whose worth, by a contrary treatment, he will be imagined either not to know, or to envy. This might rescue the name from scan- dal ; and if, as it ought, this performance turned solely upon matters of wit and learning, it might have the honour of being one of the first productions of the magnificent printing house, just erected at Oxford.* This paper is written with a design to make my journey to Oxford agreeable to me, where I design to be at the Public Act. If my advice is neglected I shall not scruple to insert in the Guardian what- ever the men of letters and genius transmit to me, in their own vindication ; and I hereby promise that I myself will draw rny pen in defence of all injured women. * Tlie Clarendon printing-house. VOL. n. 8 GUARDIAN. K 73. N*73. THURSDAY, JUNE 4, 1713. In Amore hae insunt omnia. Ter. Eun. Act. i. Sc-. 1. All these things are inseparable from love. It is a matter of great concern that there c'dme so many letters to me, wherein I see parents make love for their children, and without any manner of regard to the season of life, and the respective interests of their progeny, judge of their future happiness by the rules of ordinary commerce. When a man falls in love in some families, they use him as if his land was mortgaged to them, and he cannot discharge himself, but by really making it the same thing- in an unreasonable settlement, or foregoing what is dearer to him than his estate itself. These extor- tioners are of all others the most cruel; and the sharks, who prey upon the inadvertency of young heirs, are more pardonable than those who trespass upon the good opinion of those who treat with them upon the foot of choice and respect. The following letters may place in the reader's view uneasinesses of this sort, which may perhaps be useful to some under the circumstances mentioned by my corres- pondents. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. From a certain toiun in Cumha'lund, May 21. ' rENEUABLE SIR, ' It is impossible to express the uni- versal satisfaction your precautions give in a coun- try so far north as ours; and indeed it were imper- N" 73. GUARDIAN. 99 tinent to expatiate in a case that is by no means particular to ourselves, all mankind, who wish well to one another, being equally concerned in their success. However, as all nations have not the genius, and each particular man has his different views and taste, we northerns cannot but acknow- ledge our obligations in a more especial manner, for your matrimonial precautions, which we more im- mediately are interested in. Our climate has ever been recorded as friendly to the continuation of our kind ; and the ancient histories are not more full of their Goths and Vandals, that in swarms over- spread all Europe, than modern story of its Yorkshire hostlers and attorneys, who are remarkably eminent and beneficial in every market-town, and most inns in this kingdom. I shall not here presume to enter, with the ancient sages, into a particular reasoning upon the case, as whether it proceeds from the cold temper of the air, or the particular constitu- tions of the persons, or both ; from the fashionable want of artifice in the women, and their entire sa- tisfaction in one conquest only, or the happy ig- norance in the men, of those southern vices which etfeminate mankind. ' From this encomium, I do not question but by this time you infer me happy already in the legal possession of some fair one, or in a probable way of being so. But alas ! neither is my case, and from the cold damp which this minute seizes upon my heart, I presage never will. What shall I do? To complain here is to talk to winds, or mortals as regardless as they. The tempestuous storms in the neighbouring mountains, are not more relentless, or the crags more deaf, than the old gentleman is to my sighs and prayers. The lovely Pastorella in- deed hears and gently sighs, but it is only to in- k2 100 GUARDIAN. N73. crease my tortures; she is loo dutiful to disobey a father ; and I am neither able, nor forward, to re- ceive her by an act of disobedience. ' As to myself, my humour, until this accident to ruffle it, has ever been gay and thoughtless, perpe- tually toying amongst the women, dancing briskly and singing softly. For I take it, more men mis- carry amongst them for having too much than too little understanding. Pastorella seems willing to re- lieve me from my frights ; and by her constant car- riage, by admitting my visits at all hours, has con- vinced all hereabouts of my happiness with her, and occasioned a total defection amongst her for- mer lovers, to my infinite contentment. Ah ! Mr. Ironside, could you but see in a calm evening the profusion of ease and tenderness betwixt us ! The murmuring river that glides gently by, the cooing turtles in the neighbouring groves, are harsh com- pared to her more tuneful voice. The happy pair, first joined in Paradise, not more enamoured walk- ed! more s\<'eetly loved ! But alas ! what is all this! an imaginary joy, in which we trifle away our pre- cious time, without coming together for ever. That must depend upon the old gentleman, who sees I cannot live without his daughter, and knows I cannot, upon his terms, be ever happy with her. I beg of you to send for us all up to town together, that we may be heard before you (for we all agree in a deference to your judgment) upon these heads : Whether the authority of a father should not ac- commodate itself to the liberty of a free-born Eng- lish woman ? * Whether, if you think fit to take the old gentle- man into your care, the daughter may not choose her lover for her Guardian ? N" 73. GUARDIAK. ^01 ' Whether all parents are not obliged to provide for the just passions of their children when grown up, as well as food and raiment in their tender years ? ' These, and such points being unsettled in the world, are cause of great distraction, and it would be worthy your great age and experience, to con- sider them distinctly for the benefit of domestic life. All which, most venerable Nestor, is humbly submitted by all your northern friends, as well as Your most obedient, and devoted humble servant. Pastor Fjdo.* ' MR. IRONSIDE, ' We who subscribe this, are man and wife, and have been so these fifteen years : but you must know we have quarrelled twice a day ever since we came together, and at the same time have a very tender regard for one another. We observe this habitual disputation has an ill effect upon our (children, and they lose their respect towards us from this jangling of ours. We lately entered into an agreement, that from that time forward, when either should fall into a passion, the party angry should go into another room, and write a note to the other by one of the children, and the person writ to, right or wrong, beg pardon ; because the writing to avoid passion, is in itself an act of kind- ness. This little method, with the smiles of the messengers, and other nameless incidents in the management of this correspondence with the next room, has produced inexpressible delight, made our children and servants chearful under our care and protection, and made us ourselves sensible of a k3 102 GUARDIAN. n" 73. thousand good qualities we now see in each other, which could not before shine out, because of our mutual impatience. Your humble servants, Philip and Mary,' ' P. S. Since the above, my wife is gone out of the room, and writes word by Billy that she would have in the above letter, the words "jangling of ours," changed into the words, " these our frequent debates." I allow of the amendment, and desire you would understand accordingly, that we never jangled, but went into frequent debates, which were always held in a committee of the whole house.' ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' SAGACIOUS SIR, ' We married men reckon ourselves under your ward, as well as those who live in a less regular condition. You must know, I have a wife, who is one of those good women who are never very angry, or very much pleased. My dear is ra- ther inclined to the former, and will walk about in soliloquy, dropping sentences to herself of ma- nagement, saying " she will say nothing, but she knows when her head is laid what " and the rest of that kind of half expressions. I am never inqui- sitive to know what is her grievance, because I know it is only constitution. I call her by the kind appellation of my gentle Murmur, and I am so used to hear her, that I believe I could not sleep without it. It would not be amiss if you commu- nicated this to the public, that many who think their wives angry, may know they are only not N 73. GUARDIAN. 103 pleased, and that very many come into this world, and go out of it at a very good old age, without having ever been much transported with joy or grief, in their whole lives. Your humble servant, Arthur Smooth.' ' most venerable nestor, ' I AM now three and twenty, and in the utmost perplexity how to behave myself towards a gentleman whom my father has admitted to visit me as a lover. I plainly perceive my father designs to take advantage of his passion towards me, and require terms of him which will make him fly ofF. I have orders to be cold to him in all my behaviour; but if you insert this letter in the Guardian, he will know that distance is constrained. I love him better than life, am satisfied with the offer he has made> and desire him to stick to it, that he may not here- after think he has purchased me too dear. My mo- ther knows I love liim, so that my father must com- p'y- Your thankful Ward, Susanna .* ' P. S. I give my service to him, and desire the settlement may be such as shews I have my thoughts fixed upon my happiness in being his wife, rather than his widow.' 104 GUARDIAN. n" 74- N'74. FRIDAY, JUNE 5, 1713. Magne Parens, sand A quhm maj estate ve^-endus! BucH. Great Parent ! how majestic ! how adorable ! 1 vTiLi, make no apologfy for preferring this letter, and the extract following, to any thing else which I could possibly insert. ' sni, Cambridge, May 31. * You having been pleased to take notice of what you conceived excellent in some of our English divines, I have here presumed to send a specimen, which if I am not mistaken, may for acuteness of judgment, ornament of speech, and true sublime, compare with any of the choicest writings of the ancient fathers or doctors of the church, who lived nearest to the apostles' times. The subject is no less than that of God himself; and the design, besides doing some honour to our ovv'n nation, is to shew by a fresh example, to what a height and strength of thought a person, who ap- pears not to be by nature endued with the quickest parts, maj' arrive, through a sincere and steady practice of the Christian religion, I mean, as taught and administered in the church of England ; which wili> at the same time, prove that the force of spi- ritual assistance is not at all abated by length of time, or the iniquity of mankind; but that if men were not wanting to themselves, and (as our excel- n"74. guardian. 105 lent author speaks) could but be persnaded to con- form to our church's rules, they might still live as the primitive Christians did, and come short of none of those eminent saints for virtue and holiness. The author from whom this collection is made, is bishop Beveridge, vol. ii. serm. 1. Philotheus/ In treating upon that passage in the book of Exodus, where Moses being ordered to lead the children of Israel out of Egypt, he asked God what name he should mention him by to that people, in order to dispose them to obey him; and God an- swered, ' I Am that I Am ;' and bade him tell them, * I Am hath sent me unto you ;' the admi- rable author thus discourses : ' God having been pleased to reveal himself to us under this name or title, " I Am that I Am," he thereby suggests to us, that he would not have us apprehend of him, as of any particular or limited being, but as a being in general, or the Being of all beings; who giveth being to, and therefore exerciseth authority over, all things in the world. He did Yiot answer Moses, " I am the great, the living, the true, the everlast- ing God," he did not say, " I am the almighty Creator, Preserver, and Governor, of the whole world," but " I Am that I Am :" intimating, that if Moses desired such a name of God as might fully describe his nature in itself, that is a thing impos- sible, there being no words to be found in any lan- guage, whereby to express the glory of an infinite Being, especially so as that finite creatures should be able fully to conceive it. Yet, however, in these words he is pleased to acquaint us what kind of thoughts he would have us entertain of him : insomuch, that could we but rightly apprehend J06 GUARDIAN. N* 74. what is couched under, and intended by them, we should doubtless have as high and true conceptions of God as it is possible for creatures to have/ The answer given suggests farther to us these fol- lowing notions of the most high God. ' First, that he is one being, existing in and of himself: his unity is implied in that he saith, " I;" his ex- istence in that he saith, " I Am ;" his existence in and of himself, in that he saith, " I Am that I Am," that is, " I Am in and of myself," not re- ceiving any thing from, nor depending upon any other. The same expression implies, that as God is only one, so that he is a most pure and simple being ; for here, we see, he admits nothing into the manifestation of himself but pure essence, saying, " I Am that I Am," that is, being itself, without any mixture or composition. And there- fore we must not conceive of God, as made up of several parts, or faculties, or ingredients, but only as one who " Is that He Is," and whatsoever is in Him is himself: And although we read of several properties attributed to him in scripture, as wisdom, goodness, justice, &c. we must not apprehend them to be several powers, habits, or qualities, as they are in us ; for as they are in God, they are neither distinguished from one another, nor from his nature or essence, in whom they are said to be. In whom, I say, they are said to be : for to speak properly, they are not in him, but are his very essence, or na- ture itself; which acting severally upon several ob- jects, seems to us to act from several properties or perfections in him ; whereas all the difference is only, in our different apprehensions of the same thing. God in himself is a most simple and pure act, and therefore cannot have any thing in him, but what is that most simple and pure act itself; n" 74. GUAtli>TAl*. 107 which seeing it bringeth upon every creature what it deserves, we conceive of it as of several divine per- fections in the same Almighty Being. Whereas God, whose understanding is infinite as Himself, doth not apprehend himself under the distinct notions of wisdom, or goodness, or justice, or the like, but only as Jehovah : And therefore, in this place, he doth not say, " I am wise, or just, or good," but simply, " I Am, that I Am." Having thus offered at something towards the ex- plication of the first of these mysterious sayings in the answer God made to Moses, when he de- signed to encourage him to lead his people out of Egypt, he proceeds to consider the other, whereby God calls himself absolutely ' I Am.' Concerning which he takes notice, that though, " I Am" be commonly a verb of the first person, yet it is here used as a noun substantive, or proper name, and is the nominative case to another verb of the third person in these words, " I Am hath sent me unto you." A strange expression! But when God speaks of himself, he cannot be confined to grammar-rules, being infinitely above and beyond the reach of all languages in the world. And therefore, it is no wonder that when he would reveal himself, he goes out of our common way of speaking one to another, and expresseth himself in a way peculiar to himself, and such as is suitable and proper to his own nature and glory. ' Hence therefore, as when he speaks of himself and his own eternal essence, he saitli, " I Am that I Am;" so when he speaks of himself, with re- ference to his creatures, and especially to his people, he saith, " I Am." He doth not say " 1 Am their light, their life, their guide, their strength, or tower," but only " I Ani : " He sets as it were 108 GUARDIAN. N" 74. his hand to a blank, that his people may write under it what they please that is good for them. As if he should say, " Are they weak? I am strength. Are they poor ? I am riches. Are they in trouble ? I am comfort. Are they sick ? I am health. Are they dying ? I am life. Have they nothing ? I am all things. I am wisdom and power, I am justice and mercy. I am grace and goodness, I am glory, beauty, holiness, eminency, supereminency, perfec- tion, all-sufficiency, eternity, Jehovah, I am. What- soever is suitable to their nature, or convenient for them in their several conditions, that I am. What- soever is amiable in itself, or desirable unto them, that I Am. Whatsoever is pure and holy ; what- soever is great or pleasant ; whatsoever is good or needful to make men happy ; that I Am." So that, in short, God here represents himself unto us as an universal good, and leaves us to make the application of it to ourselves, according to our several wants, capacities, and desires, by saying only in general, " I Am." Again, page 27, he thus discourses ; ' There is more solid joy and comfort, more real delight and satisfaction of mind, in one single thought of God, rightly formed, than all the riches, and honours, and pleasures of this world, put them all together, are able to afford. Let us then call in all our scat- tered thoughts from all things here below, and raise them up and unite them all to the most high God; apprehending him under the idea, image, or likeness of any thing else, but as infinitely greater, and higher, and better than all things ; as one ex- isting in and of himself, and giving essence and existence to all things in the world besides himself; as one so pure and simple that there is nothing in him but himself, but essence and being itself; as N"74. GUARDIAN. 109 one so infinite and omnipotent, that wheresoever any thing else is in the whole world, there he rs, and beyond the world, where nothing else is, there all things are, because he is there, as one so wise, so knowing, so omniscient, that he at this very mo- ment, and always, sees what all the angels are doing in heaven ; what all the fowls are doing in the air ; what all the fishes are doing in the waters; what all the devils are doing in hell ; what all the men and beasts, and the very insects, are doing upon earth ; as one so powerful and omnipotent, that he can do whatsoever he will, only by willing it should be done ; as one so great, so good, so glorious, so im- mutable, so transcendant, so infinite, so incompre- hensible, so eternal, what shall I say? so Jehovah, that the more we think of bim, the more we admire him, the more we adore him, the more we love him, the more we may and ought ; our highest conceptions of him being as much beneath him, as our greatest services come short of what we owe him. * Seeing therefore we cannot think of God so highly as he is, let us think of him as highly as we can : and for that end let us get above ourselves, and above the world, and raise up our thoughts higher and higher, and higher still, and when we have got them up as high as possibly we can, let us apprehend a Being infinitely higher than the highest of them ; and then finding ourselves at a loss, amazed, confounded at such an infinite height of infinite perfections, let us fall down in humble and hearty desires to be freed from those dark prisons wherein we are now immured, that we may take our flight into eternity, and there (through the merits of our blessed Saviour) see this infinite Being face to face, and enjoy him for ever.* 110 GUARDIAN. n"75. N 75. SATURDAY, JUNE 6, 171S. Hie esty aut nusquam, quod qtuenmus. HoR. 1 Ep. xvii. 39. Here, or no where, we may hope to find What we desire. Creech. 1 HIS paper shall consist of extracts from two great divines, but of very different genius. The one is to be admired for convincing the understanding, the other for inflaming the heart. The former urges us in this plain and forcible manner to an inquiry into religion, and practising its precepts. ' Suppose the world began some time to be ; it must either be made by counsel and design, that is, produced by some Being that knew what it did, that did contrive it and frame it as it is ; which it is easy to conceive, a Being that is infinitely good and wise, and powerful, might do : but this is to own a God. Or else the matter of it being sup- posed to have been always, and in continual mo- tion and tumult, it at last happened to fall into this order, and the parts of matter, after various agitations, were at length entangled and knit toge- ther in this order, in which we see the world to be. But can any man think this reasonable to imagine, that in the infinite variety which is in the world, all things should happen by chance, as well, and as orderly, as the greatest wisdom could have con- trived them r Whoever can believe this, must do it with his will, and not with his understanding. N* 75. GUARDIAN. Ill * Supposing the reasons for, and against, the principles of religion, were equal, yet the danger and hazard is so unequal, as would sway a prudent man to the affirniative. Suppose a man believe there is no God, nor life after this, and suppose he be in the right, but not certain that he is (for that I am sure in this case is impossible ;) all the advan- tage he hath by this opinion relates only to this world and this present time ; for he cannot be the better for it when he is not. Now what advantage will it be to him in this life ? He shall have the more liberty to do what he pleaseth ; that is, it furnisheth him with a stronger temptation to be intemperate, and lustful, and unjust, that is, to do those things which prejudice his body, and his health, which cloud his reason, and darken his understanding, which will make him enemies in the world, will bring him into danger. So that it is no advantage to any man to be vicious; and yet this is the greatest use that is made of atheistical principles ; to comfort men in their vicious courses. But if thou hast a mind to be virtuous, and temperate, and just, the behef of the principles of religion will be no obstacle, but a furtherance to thee in this course. All the advantage a man can hope for, by disbe- lieving the principles of religion, is to escape trouble and persecution in this world, which may happen to him upon account of religion. But supposing there be a God and a life after this ; then what a vast difference is there of the consequences of these opinions ! As much as between finite and infinite, time and eternity. * To persuade men to believe the scriptures, 1 only refer this to men's consideration. If there be a God, whose providence governs the world, and all the creatures in it, is it not reasonable to think. L 3 112 GUARDIAN. N 75. that he hath a particular care of men, the noblest part of this visible world? And seeing he hath made them capable of eternal duration ; that he hath provided for their eternal happiness, and sufficiently revealed to them the way to it, and the terms and conditions of it ! Now let any man pro- duce any book in the world, that pretends to be from God, and to do this ; that for the matter of it is so worthy of God, the doctrines whereof are so useful, and the precepts so reasonable, and the arguments so powerful ; the truth of all which was confirmed by so many great and unquestionable miracles, the relation of which has been trans- mitted to posterity in public and authentic records, written by those who were eye and ear witnesses of what they wrote, and free from suspicion of any worldly interest and design ; let any produce a book like to this, in all these respects ; and which over and besides, hath by the power and reason- ableness of the doctrines contamed in it, prevailed so miraculously in the world, by weak and incon- siderable means, in opposition to all the wit and power of the world, and under such discourage- ments as no other religion was ever assaulted with ; let any man bring forth such a book, and he hath my leave to believe it as soon as the Bible. But jf there be none such, as I am well assured there is not, then every one that thinks God hath revealed himself to men, ought to embrace and entertain the doctrine of the holy scriptures, as revealed by God. * And now having presented men with such arguments and considerations as are proper, and I think sufficient to induce belief, I think it not un- reasonable to intreat and urge men diligently and impartially to consider these matters j and if there N 75. GUARDIAN. 113 be weight in these considerations to sway reasonable men, that they would not sufFer themselves to be biassed by prejudice or passion, or interest, to a con- trary persuasion. Thus much I may with reason desire of men ; for though men cannot beUeve what they will, yet men may, if they will, consider things eriously and impartially, and yield or withhold their assent, as they shall see cause, after a thorough search and examination, ' If any man will offer a serious argument against any of the principles of religion, and will debate the matter soberly, as one that considers the infinite consequences of these things one way or other, and would gladly be satisfied, he deserves to be heard what he can say ; but if a man will turn religion into raillery, and confute it by two or three bold jests, he doth not make religion, but himself, ridi- culous, in the opinion of all considerate men, be- cause he sports with his life. ' So that it concerns every man that would not trifle away his soul, and fool himself into irrecovera- ble misery, with the greatest seriousness to inquire into these things, whether they be so, or no, and patiently to consider the arguments that are brought for them. ' And when you are examining these matters, do not take into consideration any sensual or worldly interest; but deal fairly and impartially with yourselves. Think with yourselves tliat you have not the making of things true and false, that the principles of religion aie either true or false, before you think of them. The truth of things is already fixed : either there is a God, or no God ; either your souls arc immortal or they are not ; either the scriptures are a divine revelation, or an imposture ; one of these is certain and necessary, L 3 114 GUARDIAN. n"75. and they are not now to be altered. Things will not comply with your conceits, and bend them- selves to your interests: therefore do not think what you would have to be ; but consider impartially what is/ The other great writer is particularly useful in his rapturous sohloquies, wherein he thinks of the Deity with the highest admiration, and beholds himself with the most contrite lowliness. ' My present busi- ness,' says he, ' is to treat of God, his being and attri- butes ; but " who is sufficient for these things ?" At least, who am I, a silly worm, that I should take upon me to speak of Him, by whom alone I speak j and being myself but a finite sinful creature, should strive to unveil the nature of the infinite and Most Holy God ! Alas ! I cannot so much as begin to think of him, but immediately my thoughts are confound- ed, my heart is perplexed, my mind amazed, my head turns round, my whole soul seems to be un- hinged and overwhelmed within me. His mercy ex- alts me : His justice depresseth me. His wisdom astonisheth me. His power affrights me. His glory dazzles mine eyes ; and " by reason of his highness,'* as Job speaks, I cannot endure : But the least glimpse of Him makes me abhor myself and repent m dust and ashes before Him.' N 76. GUARDIAN. 115 N^re. MONDAY, JUNE 8, 1713. Solos aio hme vivere, quorum Conspicitur nitidis fimdala pecunia villis. HoR. 1 Ep. XV. 45. - Those are blest, and only those, Whose stately house their hidden treasure shows. Creech. 1 EVER thought it my duty to preserve peace and love among my wards. And since I have set up for an universal Guardian, I have laid nothing more to heart than the differences and quarrels between the landed and the trading interests of my country, which indeed comprehend the whole. I shall always contribute, to the utmost of my power, to reconcile these interests to each other, and to make them both sensible that their mutual happiness depends upon their being friends. They mutually furnish each other with all the necessaries and conveniences of life ; the land supplies the traders with corn, cattle, wool, and generally all materials, either for their subsistence or their riches ; the traders in return provide the gentlemen with houses, clothes, and many other things, without which their life at best would be uncomfortable. Yet these very interests are al- most always clashing ; the traders consider every high duty upon any part of their trade as proceed- ing from jealousy in the gentlemen of their rivalling them too fast; and they are often enemies on this account. The gentlemen, on the other hand. ^16 GUARDIAN. K" 76i think they can never lay too great a burden upon trade, though in every thing they eat and drink, and wear, they are sure to bear the greatest part themselves. I shall endeavour as much as possible, to re- move this emulation between the parties, and in the first place to convince the traders, that iu many instances high duties may be laid upon their imports, to enlarge the general trade of the king- dom. For example, if there should be laid a pro- hibition, or high duties which shall amount to a prohibition, upon the imports from any other country which takes from us a million sterling every year, and returns us nothing else but manu- factures for the consumption of our own people, it is certain this ought to be considered as the increase of our trade in general ; for if we want these manu- factures, we shall either make them ourselves, or, which is the same thing, import them from other countries in exchange for our own. In either of which cases, our foreign or inland trade is en- larged, and so many more of our own people are employed and subsisted for that money which was annually exported, that is, in all probability, a hundred and fifty thousand of our people for the yearly sum of one million. If our traders would consider many of our prohibitions or high duties in this light, they would think their country and themselves obliged to the landed interest for these restraints. Again, gentlemen are too apt to envy the traders tvery sum of money they import, and gain from abroad, as if it was so much loss to themselves; but if they could be convinced, that for every million that shall be imported and gained by the traders, more than twice that sum is gained by the n" 76. GUARDIAN. 117 landed interest, they would never be averse to the trading part of the nation. To convince them there- fore that this is the fact, shall be the remaining part of this discourse. Let us suppose then, that a million, or if you please, that twenty millions were to be imported, and gained by trade : to what uses could it be ap- plied ? Which would be the greatest gainers, the landed or the trading interest r Suppose it to be twenty millions. It cannot at all be doubted, that a part of the afore-mentioned sum would be laid out in luxury, such as the magnificence of buildings, the plate and furniture of houses, jewels, and rich apparel, the elegance of diet, the splendour of coaches and equipage, and such other things as are an expense to the owners, and bring in no manner of profit. But because it is seldom seen, that persons who by great industry have gained estates, are extra- vagant in their luxury ; and because the revenue must be still sufficient to support the annual ex- pense, it is hard to conceive that more than two of the twenty millions can be converted into this dead stock, at least eighteen must still be left to raise an annual interest to the owners; and the revenue from the eighteen millions, at six per cen- tum, will be little more than one million per an- num. Again, a part of the twenty millions is very likely to be converted to increase the stock of our inland trade, in which is comprehended that upon all our farms. This is the trade which provides for the annual consumption of our people, and a stock of the value of two years consumption is generally believed to be sufficient for this purpose. If the eighteen millions above-mentioned will not raise a, 118 GUARDIAN. N* 76. revenue of more llian one million per annum, it is certain that no more than this last value can be add- ed to our annual consumption, and that two of the twenty millions will be sufficient to add to the stock of our inland trade. Our foreign trade is considered upon another foot ; for though it provides in part for the annual con- sumption of our own people, it provides also for the consumption of foreign nations. It exports our su- perfluous manufactures, and should make returns of bullion, or other durable treasure. Our foreign trade for forty years last past, in the judgment of the most intelligent persons, has been managed by a stock not less than four, and not exceeding eight milHons, with which last sum they think it is driven at this time, and that it cannot be carried much farther, unless our merchants shall endeavour to open a trade to Terra Australis incognita, or some place that would be equivalent. It will therefore be a very large allowance, that one of the twenty millions can be added to the capital stock of our fo- reign trade. There may be another way of raising interest, that is, by laying up, at a cheap time, corn or other goods or manufactures that will keep, for the consumption of future years, and when the markets may happen to call for them at an advanced price. But as most goods are perishable, and waste something every year, by which means a part of the principal is still lost, and as it is seldom seen that these engrossers get more than their principal, and the common interest of their money, this way is so precarious and full of hazard, that it is very unlikely any more than three of the twenty millions will be applied to engrossing. It were to be wished the engrossers were more profitable traders for N* 76. GtARDlAN. 119 themselves; they are certainly very beneficial for tlie common-wealth; they are a market for the rich, in a time of plenty, and ready at hand with relief for the poor in a time of dearth. They prevent the exportation of many necessaries of life, when they are very cheap ; so that we are not at the charge of bringing them back again, when they are very dear. They save the money that is paid to foreign countries for interest, and warehouse room ; but there is so much hazard, and so little profit in this business, that if twenty millions were to be imported, scarce three of them would be applied to the making maga- zines for the kingdom. If any of the money should be lent at interest to persons that shall apply the same to any of the purposes above-mentioned, it is still the same thing. If I have given good reasons for what I have said, no more than eight of the twenty mil- lions can be applied either to our dead stock of luxury, our stock in inland or foreign trade, or our stores or magazines. So that still there will remain twelve millions, which are now no other- wise to be disposed of than in buying of lands or houses, or our new parliamentary funds, or in being lent out at interest upon mortgages of those securities, or to persons who have no other ways to repay the value than by part of the things them- selves. The question, then is, what effect these twelve millions will have towards reducing the interest of money, or raising the value of estates ; for as the former grows less, the latter will ever rise in pro- portion. For example, while the interest of money is, five per cent, per annum, a man lends two thousand pounds, to raise a revenue of one hun- dred pounds per annum, by the interest of hi* 120 GUARDIAN. N 76. money ; and for the same reason he gives two thou- sand pounds or more, to purchase an estate of one hundred pounds per annum. Again, if the interest of money shall fall one per cent, he must be forced to lend two thousand four hundred pounds, to gain the revenue of one hundred pounds per annum, and for the same reason he must give at least two thou- sand four hundred pounds, to purchase an estate of the same yearly rent. Therefore, if these twelve mil- lions newly gained shall reduce one per cent, of the present interest of money, they must of necessity increase every estate at least four years value in the purchase. It is ever easier to meet with men that will bor- row money than sell their estates. An evidence of this is, that we never have so good a revenue by buying, as by lending. The first thing therefore that will be attempted with these twelve millions, is to lend money to those that want it. This can hardly fail of reducing one per cent, of the present interest of money, and consequently of raising every estate four years value in the purchase. For in all probability all the money or value no\T in England, not applied to any of the uses above- mentioned, and which therefore lies dead, or af- fords no revenue to the owners, until it can be disposed of to such uses, doth not exceed twelve millions ; yet this sum, whatever it is, is sufficient to keep down money to the present interest, and to hold up lands to their present value. One would imagine then, if this sum should be doubled, if twelve millions extraordinary should be added to it, they should reduce half the present interest of money, and double the present value of estates. But it will easily he allowed they must reduce one per cent, of the present interest of money, and add n" 76. gCardian. 121 the value of four years rent to the purchase of every estate. To confirm the belief of this, an argument might be taken from what really happened in the province of Holland before the year one thousand six hun- dred and seventy. I think it is in sir William Tem- ple's Observations upon the United Netherlands. The government there was indebted about thirteen millions, and paid the interest of five per cent, per annum. They had got a sum of money, I think not above a million, with which they prepared to discharge such a part of the principal. The credi- tors were so unable to find so good an interest else- where, that they petitioned the states to keep their money, with an abatement of one per cent., of their interest. The same money was offered to the same number of other creditors with the same success, until one per cent, of their whole interest was abated, yet at last such a part of the principal was discharged. And when this sum came to be lent to private persons, it had the same effect ; there one per cent, of the common interest was abated through- out the whole province, as well between subject and subject as between the subjects and their governors. And nothing is so notorious, as that the value of lands in that country has risen in proportion, and that estates are sold there for thirty years value of their whole rents. It is not then to be doubted, that twelve millions extraordinary to be lent at interest, or purchase lands, or government securities, must have the like effect in England, at least that lands will rise four years rent in every purchase above their present value. And how great an improvement must this be of the landed interest ! The rents of England, according to the propor- TOL. II. M 122 CUARDIAK. 77. tion of the land-tax, should be little more than eight millions, yet perhaps they may be twelve. If there is made an addition of four years value in every pur- chase ; this upon all the rents of England, amounts to forty-eight millions. So that, by the importation and clear gain of twenty millions by trade, the land- ed interest gains an improvement of forty-eight mil- lions, at least six times as much as all other interests joined together. I should think this argument, which I have en-* deavoured to set in a clear light, must needs be sufficient to shew, that the landed and the trading interests cannot in reality but be friends to each other. N 77. TUESDAY, JUNE 9, 1713. Cerium voto petejinem. HoR. 2 Ep. i. 56. To wishes fix an end. Creech. Xhe writers of morality assign two sorts of goods, the one is in itself desirable, the other is to be desired, not on account of its own excellency, but for the sake of some other thing which it is in- trumental to obtain. These are usually distinguish- ed by the appellations of end and means. We are prompted by nature to desire the former, but that we have any appetite for the latter is owing to choice and deliberation. . N77. GUARDIAN. 123 But as wise men engage in the pursuit of means, from a farther view of some natural good with which they are connected ; fools, who are actuated by imi- tation and not by reason, blindly pursue the means, without any design or prospect of applying them. The result whereof is, that they entail upon them- selves the anxiety and toil, but are debarred from the subsequent delights which arise to wiser men ; since their views not reaching the end, terminate in those things, which although they have a relative goodness, yet, considered absolutely, are indifferent, or it may be, evil. The principle of this misconduct is a certain short- sightedness in the mind: and as this defect is branch- ed forth into innumerable errors in life, and hath infected all ranks and conditions of men ; so it more eminently appears in three species, the critics, mi- sers, and free-thinkers. I shall endeavour to make good this observation with regard to each of them. And first of the critic. Profit and pleasure are the ends that a reason- able creature would propose to obtain by study, or indeed by any other undertaking. Those parts of learning which relate to the imagination, as eloquence and poetry, produce an immediate plea- sure in the mind. And sublime and useful truths, when they are conveyed in apt allegories or beauti- ful images, make more distinct and lasting impres- sions ; by which means the fancy becomes sub- servient to the understanding, and the mind is at the same time delighted and instructed. The exer- cise of the understanding in the discovery of truth, is likewise attended with great pleasure, as well a immediate profit. It not only strengthens our faculties, purifies the soul, subdues the passions ; but besides these advantages, there is also a secret 124 GUARDIAN. n" 77. joy that flows from intellectual operations propor- tioned to the nobleness of the faculty, and not the less affecting because inward and unseen. But the mere exercise of the memory as such, instead of bringing pleasure or immediate benefit, is a thing of vain irksomeness and fatigue, especial- ly when employed in the acquisition of languages, which is of all others the most dry and painful occupation. There must be therefore something further proposed, or a wise man would never en- gage in it. And, indeed, the very reason of the thing plainly intimates that the motive which first drew men to affect a knowledge in dead tongues, was that they looked on them as means to convey more useful and entertaining knowledge into their minds. There are nevertheless certain critics, who, see- ing that Greek and Latin are in request, join in a thoughtless pursuit of those languages, without any further view. They look on the ancient authors, but it is with an eye to phraseology, or certain mi- nute particulars, which are valuable for no other reason but because they are despised and forgotten by the rest of mankind. The divine maxims of mo- rality, the exact pictures of human life, the profound discoveries in the arts and sciences, just thoughts, bright images, sublime sentiments, are overlooked, while the mind is learnedly taken up in verbal re- marks. Was a critic ever known to read Plato with a contemplative mind, or Cicero, in order to im- bibe the noble sentiments of virtue and a public spirit, which are conspicuous in the writings of that great man ; or to peruse the Greek or Roman histories, with an intention to form his own life upon the plan of the illustrious patterns they ex- N 77^ GUARDIAN. 125 hibit to our view? Plato wrote in Greek. Cicero's Latin is fine. And it often lies in a man's way to quote the ancient historians. There is no entertainment upon earth more noble and befitting a reasonable mind, than the perusal of good authors ; or that better qualifies a man to pass his life with satisfaction to himself, or advantage to the public. But where men of short views and mean souls give themselves to that sort of employment which nature never designed them for, they indeed keep one another in countenance ; but instead of cultivating and adorning their own minds, or ac- quiring an ability to be useful to the world, they reap no other advantage from their labours, than the dry consolation arising from the applauses they bestow upon each other. 'And the same weakness, or defect of the mind, from whence pedantry takes its rise, does likewise give birth to avarice. Words and money are both to be regarded as only marks of things; and as the knowledge of the one, so the possession of the other is of no use, unless directed to a further end. A mutual commerce could not be carried on among men, if some common standard had not been agreed upon, to which the value of all the various pro- ducts of art and nature were reducible, and which might be of the same use in the conveyance of pro- perty, as words are in that of ideas. Gold by its beauty, scarceness, and durable nature, seems de- signed by Providence to a purpose so excellent and advantageous to mankind. Upon these considera- tions that metal came first into esteem. But such who cannot see beyond what is nearest in the pur- suit, beholding mankind touched with an aftcction for gold, and being ignorant of the true reason that introduced this odd passion into Iiumsn nature, V. 3 126 Gt)ARi)IAN. N^TS. imagine some intrinsic worth in the metal to be the cause of it. Hence the same men who, had they been turned towards learning, would have employed themselves in laying up words in their memory, are by a different application employed to as much pur- pose, in treasuring up gold in their coffers. They differ only in the object; the principle on which they act, and the inward frame of mind, is the same in the critic and the miser. And upon a thorough observation, our modern sect of free-thinkers will be found to labour under the same defect with those two inglorious species. Their short views are terminated in the next objects, and their specious pretences for liberty and truth, are so many instances of mistaking the means for the end. But the setting these points in a clear light must be the subject of another paper. N" 78. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 10, 1713. Docebo Unde parentur opes ; quid alat, formetque Poetam. HoR. Ars Poet, ver. 306. I will teach to write, Tell what the duty of a Poet is, Wherein his wealth and ornament consist, And how he may be form'd, and how improv'd. Roscommon. It is no small pleasure to me, who am zealous in the interests of learning, to think I may have the honour of leading the town into a very new and n" 78. GUARDIAN. 127 uncommon road of criticism. As that kind of lite- rature is at present carried on, it consists only in a knowledge of mechanic rules which contribute to the structure of different sorts of poetry ; as the re- ceipts of good housewives do to the making pud- dings of flour, oranges, plumbs, or any other in- gredients. It would, methinks, make these my instructions more easily intelligible to ordinary readers, if I discoursed of these matters in the style in which ladies learned in oeconomics, dictate to their pupils for the improvement of the kitchen and larder. I shall begin with epic poetry, because the critics agree it is the greatest work human nature is ca- pable of I know the French have already laid -down many mechanical rules for compositions of this sort, but at the same time they cut off almost all under- takers from the possibility of ever performing them ; for the first qualification they unanimously require in a poet, is a genius. I shall here endeavour (for the benefit of my countrymen) to make it manifest, that epic poems may be made ' without a genius/ nay, without learning, or much reading. This must necessarily be of great use to all those poets who con- fess they never read, and of whom the world is con- vinced they never learn. What Moliere observes of making a dinner, that any man can do it with money, and if a profest cook cannot without, he has his art for nothing ;* the same may be said of making a poem, it is easily brought about by him that has a genius, but the skill lies in doing it with- out one. In pursuance of this end, I shall present the reader with a plain and certain recipe, by which even sonneteers and ladies may be qualified for this grand performance. The meaning is, his art is good for nothing. 128 GUARDIAN. N" 78. I know it will be objected, that one of the chief qualifications of an epic poet, is to be knowing in ail arts and sciences. But this ought not to dis- courage those that have no learning, as long as in- dexes and dictionaries may be had, which are the compendium of all knowledge. Besides, since it is an established rule, that none of the terms of those arts and sciences are to be made use of, one may venture to affirm our poet cannot impertinently of- fend in this point. The learning which will be more particularly necessary to him, is the ancient geogra- phy of towns, mountains, and rivers : for this let him take Cluverius, value four-pence. Another quality required is a complete skill in language. To this I answer, that it is notorious per- sons of no genius have been oftentimes great linguists. To instance in the Greek, of which there are two sorts ; the original Greek, and that from which our modern authors translate. I should be unwilling to promise impossibilities, but mo- destly speaking, this may be learned in about an hour's time with ease. I have known one, who became a sudden professor of Greek, immediately upon applicatioo of the left-hand page of the Cambridge Homer to his eyes. It is in these days, with authors as with other men, the well-bred are familiarly acquainted with them at first sight ; and as it is sufficient for a good general to have sur- veyed the ground he is to conquer, so it is enough for a good poet to have seen the author he is to be master of. But to proceed to the purpose of this paper. A Receipt to make an Epic Poem. FOR THE FABLE. * Take out of any old poem, history book, ro- mance, or legend (for instance GefFry of Monmouth, N''78. GUARDIAN. 129 or Don Belianis of Greece) those parts of story which afford most scope tor long descriptions. Put these pieces together, and throw all the adventures you fancy into one tale. Then take a hero whom you may choose for the sound of his name, and put him into the midst of these adventures. There let him work, for twelve books; at the end of which you may take him out ready prepared to conquer, or to marry ; it being necessary that the conclusion of an epic poem be fortunate.' To make an episode. * Take any remaining ad- venture of your former collection, in which you could no way involve your hero ; or any unfortu- nate accident that was too good to be thrown away j and it will be of use, applied to any other person, who may be lost and evaporate in the course of the work, without the least damage to the composi- tion.' For the moral and allegory, ' These you may ex- tract out of the fable afterwards at your leisure. Be sure you strain them sufficiently.' rOR THE MANNERS. For those of the hero, take all the best quali- ties you can find in all the celebrated heroes of an- tiquity ; if they will not be reduced to a consis- tency, lay them all on a heap upon him. But be sure they are qualities which your patron would be thought to have : and to prevent any mistake which the world may be subject to, select from the al- phabet those capital letters that compose his name, and set them at the head of a dedication be- fore your poem. However, do not absolutely ob- serve the exact quantity of these virtues, it not being determined, whether or no it be necessary for the hero of a poem, to be an honest man. For 130 GUARDIAN. N78. the under-characters, gather them from Homer and Virgil, and change the names as occasion serves.' Ton THE MACHINES. ' Take of deities, male and female, as many as you can use. Separate them into equal parts, and keep Jupiter in the middle. Let Juno put him in a fer- ment, and Venus mollify him. Remember on all occasions to make use of volatile Mercury. If you have need of devils, draw them out of Milton's Paradise, and extract your spirits from Tasso. The use of these machines is evident ; for since no epic poem can possibly subsist without them, the wisest way is to reserve them for your greatest necessities^ When you cannot extricate your hero by any human means, or yourself by your own wits, seek rehef from heaven, and the gods will do your business very readily. This is according to the direct pre- scription of Horace in his Art of Poetry :' * Nee Deus intersit, nki dignus rindice Nodus Incident ' ver. 191. * Never presume to make a God appear, But for a business worthy of a God.' Roscommon. That is to sa}^ a poet should never call upon the gods for their assistance, but when he is in great perplexity.' FOn THE DESCRIPTIONS. For a tempest. ' Take Eurus, Zephyr, Auster, and Boreas, and cast them together in one verse. Add to these of rain, lightning, and of thunder (the loudest you can) quantum sufficit. Mix your clouds and billows well together, until they foam, and N" 78; GUARDIAN. 131 thicken your description here and there with a quick- sand. Brew your tempest well in your head, before you set it a blowing.' For a battle. * Pick a large quantity of images and descriptions from Hcmer's Iliad, with a spice or two of Virgil, and if there remain any overplus you may lay them by for a skirmish. Season it well with similes, and it will make an excellent battle.' For burning a town. ' If such a description be necessary, because it is certain there is one in Vir- gil, Old Troy is ready burnt to your hands. But if you fear that would be thought borrowed, a chapter or two of the theory of conflagration,* well cir- cumstanced, and done into verse, will be a good succedaneum.' ' As for smiles and metaphors, they may be found all over the creation ; the most ignorant may gather them, but the danger is in applying them. For this, advise with your bookseller.' FOR THE LANGUAGE. (I mean the diction.) ' Here it will do well to be an imitator of Milton, for you will find it easier to imitate him in this, than any thing else. He- braisms and Grecisms are to be found in him, with- out the trouble of learning the languages. I knew a painter, who (like our poet) had no genius, make his daubings to be thought originals by setting them in the smoke. You may in the same manner give the venerable air of antiquity to your piece, by darkening it up and down with Old English. With From Lib. III. De Conflagratione Miiiidi et Telluris Tlieo- via Sacra, publislied iu 4to, 1689, by Dr. Thomas Burnet, luaeter ot tUe Chartcr.bouse. 13^ GUARDIAN. N 79. this you may be easily furnished upon any occasion, by the dictionary commonly printed at the end of Chaucer.' I must not conclude, without cautioning all wri- ters without genius in one material point, which is never to be afraid of having too much fire in their works. I should advise rather to take their warmest thoughts, and spread them abroad upon paper ; for they are observed to cool before they are read. N79. THURSDAY, JUNE 11, 1713. Praclara et jmlchra minantetn Vivere nee recU, nee siMviter HoR. 1 Ep. viii. 3. 1 make a noise, a gaudy show, I promise mighty things, I nobly strive ; Yet what an ill, unpleasant life I live ! Creech. It is an employment worthy a reasonable creature, to examine into the disposition of men's affections towards each other, and as far as one can, to im- prove all tendencies to good nature and charity. No one could be unmoved with this epistle, which I received the other day from one of my correspon- dents, and which is full of the most ardent benevo- lence. ' TO THE GUARDIAN. * SIR, * I SELDOM read your political, your critical, your ludicrous, or if you will call them so, your polite papers, but when I observe any thing n" 79- GUARDIAN. 133 which I think written for the advancement of good- will amongst men, and laying before them objects of charily, I am very zealous for the promotion of so honest a design. Believe me, sir, want of wit or wisdom, is not the infirmity of this age ; it is the shameful application of both that is the crying evil. As for my own part, I am always endeavouring at least to be better, rather than richer or wiser. But I never lamented that I was not a wealthy man so heartily as the other day. You must understand that I now and then take a walk of mortification, and pass a whole day in making myself profitably sad. I for this end visit the hospitals about thig city, and when I have rambled about the galleries at Bedlam, and seen for an hour the utmost of all lamentable objects, human reason distracted ; when I have from grate to grate offered up my prayers for a wretch who has been reviling me, for a figure that has seemed petrified with anguish for a man that has held up his face in a posture of adoration towards heaven to utter execrations and blasphe* mies ; I say, when I have beheld all these things, and thoroughly reflected on them, until I have startled myself out of my present ill course ; I have thought fit to pass to the observation of less evils, and relieve myself by going to those charitable re- ceptacles about this town, appointed only for bo- dily distresses. The gay and frolic part of man- kind are wholly unacquainted with the numbers of their fellow-creatures, who languish under pain and agony, for want of a trifle out of that expense by which those fortunate persons purchase the gratifi- cation of a superfluous passion or appetite. I ended the last of these pilgrimages which I made, itt St. Thomas's hospital in Southwark. I had seen all the variety of woe, which can arise from the dis- tOL, I(. N 134 GUARDIAN. N" 79. tempers which attend human frailty ; but the cir- cumstance which occasioned this letter, and jrave me the quickest compassion, was beholding a little boy of ten years of age, who was just then to be ex- pelled the house as incurable. My heart melted within me to think what would become of the poor child, who as I was informed, had not a farthing in the world, nor father, nor mother, nor friend to help it. The infant saw my sorrow for it, and came towards me, and bid me speak, that it might die in the house. ' Alas ! There are crowds cured in this place, and the strictest care taken, in the distribution of the charity, for wholesome food, good physic, and tender care in behalf of the patients ; but the pro- vision is not large enough for those whom they do not despair of recovering, which makes it necessary to turn out the incurable, for the sake of those whom they can relieve. I was informed this was tlie fate of many in a year, as well as of this poor child, who, I suppose, corrupted away, yet alive in t^e streets. He was to be sure removed when he was only capable of giving offence, though avoided when still an object of compassion. There are not words to give mankind compunction enough on such an occasion ; but I assure you I think the miserable have a property in' the superfluous pos- sessions of the fortunate ; though I despair of seeing right done them until the day wherein those distinctions shall cease for ever, and they must both give an account for their behaviour under their re- spective sufferings, and enjoyments. However, you would do your part as a guardian, if you would mention, in the most pathetic terms, these misera- ble objects, and put the good part of the world in mind of exerting the most noble benevolence that n' 79. GUARDIAN. 135 can be imagined, in alleviating the few remaining moments of the incurable. * A gentleman who belonged to the hospital, wa saying, he believed it would be done as soon as men- tioned, if it were proposed that a ward might be erected for the accommodation of such as have no more to do in this world, but resign themselves to death. I know no readier way of communicating this thought to the world, than by your paper. If you omit to publish this, I shall never esteem you to be the man you pretend ; and so recommending the incurable to your Guardianship, I remain. Sir, Your most humble servant, Philanthropos.' It must be confessed, that if one turns one's eyes round these cities of London and Westminster, one cannot overlook the exemplary instances of he- roic charity, in providing restraints for the wicked, instructions for the young, food and raiment for the aged, with regard also to all other circum- stances and relations of human life ; but it is to be lamented that these provisions are made only by the middle kind of people, while those of fashion and power are raised above the species itself, and are unacquainted or unmoved with the calamities of others. But, alas ! how monstrous is this hard- ness of heart ! How is it possible that the returns of hunger and thirst should not importune men, though in the hisrhest affluence, to consider the miseries of their fellow-creatures who languish under necessity : But as I hinted just now, the dis- tinctions of mankind are almost wholly to be re- solved into those of the rich and the poor ; for as certainly as wealth gives acceptance and grace to N 2 136 GUARDIAN. N" 79- all that its possessor says or does ; so poverty cre- ates disesteem, scorn, and prejudice, to all the un- dertakings of the indigent. The necessitous man has neither hands, lips, or understanding, for his own or friend's use, but is in the same condition with the sick, with this difference only, that his is an infection no man will relieve, or assist, or if he does, it is seldom with so much pity as contempt, and rather for the ostentation of the physician, than compassion on the patient. It is a circum- stance, wherein a man finds all the good he deserves inaccessible, all the ill unavoidable ; and the poor hero is as certainly ragged, as the poor villain hanged. Under these pressures the poor man speaks with hesitation, undertakes with irresolu- tion, and acts with disappointment. He is slighted in men's conversation, overlooked in their assem- blies, and beaten at their doors. But from whence, alas, has he this treatment ? from a creature that has only the supply of, but not an exemption from, the wants, for which he despises him. Yet such is the unaccountable insolence of man, that he will not see that he who is supported, is in the same class of natural necessity with him that wants a support; and to be helped implies to be indigent. In a word, after all you can say of a man, conclude that he is rich, and you have made him friends ; nor have you utterly overthrown a man in the world's opinion, until you have said he is poor. This is the emphatical expression of praise and blame: for men so stupidly forget their natural im- potence and want, that Riches and Poverty have taken in our imagination the place of Innocence and Guilt. Reflections of this kind do but waste one's being, without capacity of helping the distressed ; yet N" 80. GUARDIAN. 337 though I know no way to do any service to my bre- thren under such calamities, I cannot help having so much respect for them, as to suffer with them in a fruitless fellow-feelingr. N" 80. FRIDAY, JUNE 12, 1713. Calettibiis Irce. Virg. ^n. i. 11. Anger m heav'nly minds. 1 HAVE found by experience, that it is impossible to talk distinctly without defining the words of which we make use. There is not a term in our language which wants explanation so much as the word Church. One would think when people utter it, they should have in their minds ideas of virtue and religion ; but that important monosyllable drags all the other words in the language after it, and it is made use of to express both praise and blame, according to the character of him who speaks it. By this means it happens, that no one knows what his neighbour means when he says such a one is for, or against the church. It has happened that the person, who is seen every day at church, has not l)een in the eye of the workl a church-man ; and he who is very zealous to oblige every man to frequent it, but himself, has been held a very good son of the church. This prepossession is the best N 3 138 GUARDIAN. N" 80. handle imaginable for politicians to make use of, for managing the loves and hatreds of mankind, to the purposes to which they would lead them. But this is not a thing for fools to meddle with, for they only bring disesteem upon those whom they attempt to serve, when they unskilfully pronounce terms of art. I have observed great evils arise from this practice, and not only the cause of piety, but also the secular interest of clergymen, has extremely suffered by the general unexplained signification of the word church. The Examiner, upon the strength of being a re- ceived churchman, has offended in this particular more grossly than any other man ever did before, and almost as grossly as ever he himself did, sup- posing the allegations in the following letter are just. To slander any man is a very heinous of- fence ; but the crime is still greater, when it falls upon such as ought to give example to others. I cannot imagine how the Examiner can divest any part of the clergy of the respect due to their cha- racters, so as to treat them as he does, without an indulgence unknown to our religion, though taken up in the name of it, in order to disparage such of its communicants, as will not sacrifice their con- science to their fortunes. This confusion and sub- division of interests and sentiments, among people of the same communion, is what would be a very good subject of mirth ; but when I consider against whom this insult is committed, I think it too great, and of too ill a consequence, to be in good humour on the occasion. ' SIR, June 9, 1713. ' Your character of Universal Guar- dian, joined to the concern you ought to have for N" so. GUARDIAN. 139 the cause of virtue and religion, assure me you will not think that clergymen when injured, have the least right to your protection ; and it is from that as- surance I trouble you with this, to complain of the Examiner, who calumniates as freely as he com- mends, and whose invectives are as groundless as his panegyrics. ' In his paper of the eighth instant, after a most furious invective against many noble lords, a con- siderable number of the commons, and a very great part of her majesty's good subjects, as disaffected and full of discontent, which by the way, is but an aukward compliment to the prince whose greatest glory it is to reign in the hearts of her people, that the clergy may not go without their share of his resentment, he concludes with a most malicious reflection upon some of them. He names indeed nobody, but points to Windsor and St. Paul's, where he tells us, some are disrespectful to the queen, and enemies to her peace; most odious characters, especially in clergymen, whose profes- sion is peace, and to whose duty and affection her majesty has a more immediate right, by her .singular piety and great goodness to them. " They have sucked in," he says, " this warlike principle from their arbitrary patrons." It is not enough, it seems, to calumniate them, unless their patrons also be insulted, no less patrons than the late king and the duke of Marlborough. These are his arbitrary men; though nothing be more certain, than that without the king, the shadow of a legal government had not been left to us ; nor did there ever live a man, who in the nature and temper of him:, less deserved the character of arbitrary than the duke. How now is this terrible charge against these clergymen supported ? Why, as to St. Paul"!, 140 GUARDIAN. N 80. tlie fact, according to him, is this : " Some of the cliurch, to affront the queen, on the day the peace was proclaimed, gave orders for parochial prayers only, without singing, as is used upon fast-days, though in this particular their inferiors were so very honest to disobey them." This the Examiner roundly affirms after his usual manner, but without the least regard to truth ; for it is fallen in my way without inquiring, to be exactly informed of this matter, and therefore I take upon me in their vin- dication to assure you, that every part of what is said is absolutely false, and the truth is just the reverse. The inferiors desired there might be only parochial prayers ; but the person applied to was aware to what construction it might be liable, and therefore would not consent to the request, though very innocent and reasonable. The case was this : the procession of the ceremony had reached Lud- gate just at the time of prayers, and there was such a prodigious concourse of people, that one of the vergers came to the residentiary in waiting, to re- present, that it would be impossible to have prayers that afternoon ; that the crowds all round the church were so great, there would be no getting in : but it was insisted, that there must be prayers, only the tolling of the bell should be deferred a liitle until the head of the procession was got be- yond the church. When the bell had done, and none of the quire appeared, but one to read, it was upon this again represented, that there could be only parochial praj^ers, a thing that sometimes hijjpens, twice or thrice perhaps in a year, when 'Upon some allowable occasions the absence of the quirt-iiieii is so great, as not to leave the necessary voices fir cathedral service ; which very lately was the case upon a performance of the thanksgiving N 80. GUARDIAN. 141 music at Whitehall. So that had the prayers, on that occasion, been parochial only, it had been neither new nor criminal, but necessary and un- avoidable, unless the Examiner can tell how the service may be sung decently without singin sive spirit, whose being or intentions reach the whole mass of mankind, and are continued beyond the present age, to a succession of future genera- tions. The advantage arising to him who hath a tincture of this generosity on his soul, is, that he is affected with a sublimer joy than can be comprehended by one who is destitute of that noble relish. The hap- piness of the rest of mankind hath a natural connec- tion with that of a reasonable mind. And in pro- portion as the actions of each individual contribute to this end, he must be thought to deserve well or ill, both of the world, and of himself. I have in a late paper, observed, that men who have no reach of thought do often misplace their affections on the means, without respect to the end ; and by a prepos- terous desire of things in themselves indifferent, forego the enjoyment of that happiness which those things are instrumental to obtain. This ob- servation has been considered with regard to critic* and misers ; I shall now apply it to free-thinkers- Liberty and truth are the main points which these gentlemen pretend to have in view ; to pro- 154 GUARDIAN. N* 85. ceed therefore methodically, I will endeavour to shew in the first place that liberty and truth are not in themselves desirable, but only as they re- late to a farther end. And secondly, that the sort of liberty and truth (allowing them those names) which our free-thinkers use all their industry to promote, is destructive to that end, viz. human happiness: and consequently that species, as such, instead of being encouraged or esteemed, merit the detestation and abhorrence of all honest ipen. In the last place, I design to shew, that under the pretence of advancing liberty and truth, they do in reality promote the two contrary evils. As to the first point, it has been observed, that it is the duty of each particular person to aim at the happiness of his fellow creatures; and that as this view is of a wider or narrower extent, it argues a mind more or less virtuous. Hence it follows, that a liberty of doing good actions which conduce to the feHcity of mankind, and a know- ledge of such truths as might either give us plea- sure in the contemplation of them, or direct our conduct to the great ends of life, are valuable per- fections. But shall a good man, therefore, prefer a liberty to commit murder or adultery, before the wholesome restraint of divine and human laws ? Or shall a wise man prefer the knowledge of a troublesome and afflicting truth, before a pleasant error that would chear his soul with joy and com- fort, and be attended with no ill consequences ; Surely no man of common sense would thank him, who had put it in his power to execute the sudden suggestions of a fit of passion or madness, or ima- gine himself obliged to a person, who by forwardly informing him of ill news, had caused his soul to anticipate that sorrow which she would never n" S3. GUARDIAN. 155 have felt, so long as the ungrateful truth lay con- cealed. Let us then respect the happiness of our species, and in this light examine the proceedings of the free-thinkers. From what giants and monsters would these knight-errants undertake to free the world ? From the ties that religion imposeth on our minds, from the expectation of a future judg- ment, and from the terrors of a troubled consci- ence, not by reforming men's lives, but by giving encouragement to their vices. What are those important truths of which they would convince mankind? That there is no such thing as a wise and just Providence; that the mind of man is corporeal; that religion is a state-trick, contrived to make men honest and virtuous, and to procure a subsist- ence to others for teaching and exhorting them to be so ; that the good tidings of life and immortality, brought to lighr by the gospel, are fables and im- postures ; from believing that we are made in the image of God, they would degrade us to an opinion that we are on a level with the beasts that perish. What pleasure or what advantage do these notions bring to mankind : Is it of any use to the public that good men should lose the comfortable pros- pect of a reward to their virtue ; or the wicked be encouraged to persist in their impiety, from an as- surance that they shall not be punished for it hereafter ? Allowing, therefore, these men to be patterns of liberty and truth, yet it is of such truths, and that .-ort of liberty, which make them justly be looked upon as enemies to the peace and happiness of the world. But upon a thorough and impartial view it will be found, that their endeavours, instead of ad- vancing the cause of hberty and truth, tend only to 166 GUARDIAN. n' 83. introduce slavery and error among men. There are two parts in our nature ; the baser, which consists of our senses and passions, and the more noble and rational, which is properly the human part, the other being common to us with brutes. The infe- rior part is generally much stronger, and has always the start of reason, which if in the perpetual strug- gle between them, it were not aided from heaven by religion, would almost universally be vanquished, and man become a slave to his passions, which as it is the most grievous and shameful slavery, so it is the genuine result of that liberty which is pro- posed by overturning religion. Nor is the other part of their design better executed. Look into their pretended truths : are they not so many wretched absurdities, maintained in opposition to the light of nature and divine revelation by sly inuendoes and cold jests, by such pitiful sophisms and such confused and indigested notions, that one would vehemently suspect those men usurped the. name of free-thinkers, with the same view that hy- pocrites do that of godliness, that it may serve for a cloak to cover the contrary defect ? I shall close this discourse with a parallel I'eflec- tion on these three species, who seem to be allied by a certain agreement in mediocrity of understand- ing. A critic is entirely given up to the pursuit of learning ; when he has got it, is his judgment clearer, his imagination livelier, or his manners more polite, than those of other men ? Is it ob- served that a miser, when he has acquired his su- perfluous estate, eats, drinks, or sleeps with more satisfaction, that he has a cheerfuUer mind, or re- lishes any of the enjoyments of life better than his neighbours ? The free-thinkers plead hard for a licence to think freely j they have it : but what use N 84. eUARDlAN. 157 do they make of it ? Are they eminent for any sublime discoveries in any of the arts and sciences ? Have they been authors of any inventions that con- duce to the well-being of mankind ? Do their writ- ings shew a greater depth of design, a clearer me- thod, or more just and correct reasoning than those of other men ? There is a great resemblance in their genius; but the critic and miser are only ridiculous and con- temptible creatures, while the free-thinker is also a pernicious one. N84. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 17, 1713. Non missura cutem nisi plena cruoris hirudo. HoK. Ars Poet. ver. ult. Sticking like leeches, till tbey burst with blood. Roscommon. TO THE HON. NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' SIR, Middle Temple, June 12. 1 KEsuMiNG you may sometimes condescend to take cognizance of small enormities, I here lay one before you, which I proceed to without farther apology, as well knowing the best compliment to a man of busi- ness is to come to the point. ' There is a silly habit among many of our minor orators, who display their eloquence in the several VOL, II. p 158 GUARDIAN. N* 84. coffee-houses of this fair city, to the no small an- noyance of considerable numbers of her majesty's spruce and loving subjects, and that is a humour they have got of twisting off your buttons. These ingenious gentlemen are not able to advance three words until they have got fast hold of one of your buttons ; but as soon as they have procured such an excellent handle for discourse, they will indeed proceed with great elocution. I know not how well some may have escaped, but for my part I have often met with them to my cost ; having I believe within these three years last past been argued out of several dozens ; insomuch that' I have for some time ordered my tailor to bring me home with every suit a dozen at least of spare ones, to supply the place of such as from time to time are detached as an help to discourse, by the vehement gentlemen before mentioned. This way of holdmg a man in discourse is much practised in the coffee- houses within the city, and does not indeed so much prevail at the politer end of the town. It is like- wise more frequently made use of among the small politicians, than any other body of men ; I am therefore something cautious of entering into a controversy with this species of statesmen, especially the younger fry ; for if you offer in the least to dis- sent from any thing that one of these advances, he immediately steps up to you, takes hold of one of your buttons, and indeed will soon convince you of the strength of his argumentation. I remember, upon the news of Dunkirk's being delivered into our hands, a brisk little fellow, a politician and an able engineer, had got into the middle of Batson's offee-house, and was fortifying Graveling for the service of the most christian king, with all imagin- able expedition. The work was carried on with N" 84. GUARDIAN. 15<7 such success, that in less than a quarter of an hour's time, he had made it almost impregnable, and in the opinion of several worthy citizens wha had gathered round him, full as strong both by sea and land as Dunkirk ever could pretend to be. I happened however unadvisedly to attack some of his outworks ; upon which, to shew his great skill likewise in the offensive part, he immediately made an assault upon one of my buttons, and carried it in less than two minutes, notwithstanding I made as handsome a defence as was possible. He had likewise invested a second, and would certainly have been master of that too in a very little time, had he not been diverted from this enterprize by the arrival of a courier, who brought advice that his presence was absolutely necessary in the dis- posal of a beaver,* upon which he raised the siege, and indeed retired with some precipitation. In the coffee-houses here about the Temple, you may harangue even among our dabblers in politics for about two buttons a day, and many times for less. I had yesterday the good fortune to receive very considerable additions to my knowledge in state affairs, and I find this morning, that it has not stood me in above a button. In most of the emi- nent coffee-houses at the other end of the town, for example, to go no farther than Will's in Co- vent-garden, the company is so refined, that you may hear and be heard, and not be a button the worse for it. Besides the gentleman before men- tioned, there are others who are no less active in The real person here alluded to was a Mr. James Hey- wood, a linen draper, who was the writer of a letter in the Spectator, signed James Easy. v2 l60 GUARDIAN. N''84. their harangues, but with gentle services rather than robberies. These, while they are improving your understanding, are at the same time setting off your person ; they will new-plait and adjust your neckcloth. * But though I can bear with this kind of orator, who is so humble as to aim at the good will of his hearer by being his valet de chambre, I must rebel against another sort of them. There are some, sir, that do not stick to take a man by the collar when they have a mind to persuade him. It is your business, I humbly presume, Mr. Ironside, to interpose that a man is not brought over to his op- ponent by force of arms. It were requisite there- fore that you should name a certain interval, which ought to be preserved between the speaker and him to whom he speaks. For sure no man has a right, because I am not of his opinion, to take any of my clothes from me, or dress me according to his own liking. I assure you the most becoming thing to me in the world is in a campaign periwig to wear one side before, and the other cast upon the col- lateral shoulder. But there is a friend of mine who never talks to me but he throws that which I wear forward upon my shoulder, so that in restor- ing it to its place I lose two or three hairs out of the lock upon my buttons ; though I never touched him in my whole life, and have been acquainted with him these ten years. I have seen my eager friend in danger sometimes of a quarrel by this ill custom, for there are more young gentlemen who can feel than can understand. It would be there- fore a good office to my friend if you advised him not to collar any man but one who knows what he Hieans, and give it him as a standing precaution in N* 84. GUAPDIAN. I6l conversation, that none but a very good friend will give him the liberty of being seen, felt, heard, and understood all at once. I am. Sir, your most humble servant, Johannes MiispcHiKOsoPHus/ , ' P. S. I have a sister who saves herself from be- ing handled by one of these manual rhetoricians by giving him her fan to play with ; but I appeal to you in the behalf of us poor helpless men/ June 15, 1713. I am of opinion, that no orator or speaker in public or private has any right to meddle with any body's clothes but his own. I indulge men in the liberty of playing with their own hats, fumbling in their own pockets, settling their own periwigs, tossing or twisting their heads, and all other gesti- culations which may contribute to their elocution ; but pronounce it an infringement of the English liberty for a man to keep his neighbour's person in custody in order to force an hearing ; and farther declare, that all assent given by an auditor under such constraint, is of itself void and of no effect. Nestou Ironside. p3 162 eUARDIAN. N 85. WS5. THURSDAY, JUNE 18, 1713. Sed te decor iste, quod optas Esse vetat, votoque tuo tua forma repugnat. Ovid. Met. i. 488. But so much youth, with so much beauty join'd, Oppose the state, which thy desires design'd. Dryuen. 1 o suffer scandal (says somebody) is the tax which every person of merit pays to the public ; and my lord Verulam finely observes, that a man who has no virtue in himself, ever envies virtue in others. I know not how it comes to pass, but detraction, through all ages, has been found a vice which the fair sex too easily give into. Not the Roman satyrist could use them with more severity than they them- selves do one another. Some audacious critics, in my opinion, have launched out a little too far when they take upon them to prove, in opposition to history, that Lais was a woman of as much vir- tue as beauty, which violently displeasing the Phrynes of those times, they secretly prevailed with the historians to deliver her down to posterity under the infamous character of an extorting pros- titute. But though I have the greatest regard imaginable to that softer species, yet am I sorry to find they have very little for themselves. So far are they from being tender of one another's re- putation, that they take a malicious pleasure in destroying it. My lady, .the other day, when Jack n" 85. GUARDIAN. l63 was asking who could be so base as to spread such a report about Mrs. , answered, * None, you may be sure, but a woman.' A little after, Dick told my lady, that he had heard Florella bint as if Cleora wore artificial teeth. The reason is, said she, because Cleora first gave out that Florella owed her complexion to a wash. Thus the in- dustrious pretty creatures take pains by invention, to throw blemishes on each other, when they do not consider that there is a profligate set of fel- lows too ready to taint the character of the virtu- ous, or blast the charms of the blooming" virgin. The young lady from whom I had the honour of receiving the following letter, deserves, or rather claims, protection from our sex, since so barba- rously treated by her own. Certainly they ought to defend innocence from injury who gave igno- rantly the occasion of its being assaulted. Had the men been less liberal of their applauses, the women had been more sparing of their calumnious censures. TO THE GUARDIAN. ' SIR, * I DO not know at what nice point you fix the bloom of a young lady; but I am one who can just look back upon fifteen. My father dying three years ago, left me under the care and direclion of my mother, with a fortune not pro- fusely great, yet such as might demand a very handsome settlement, if ever proposals of marriage should be offered. My mother, after the usual time of retired mourning was over, was so affec- tionately indulgent to me, as to take me along with her in all her visits ; but still not thinking 164 GUARDIAN. N* 85. she gratified my youth enough, permitted me fur- ther to go with my relations to all the public, chearful, but innocent entertainments, where she was too reserved to appear herself. The two first years of my teens were easy, gay, and delightful. Every one caressed me ; the old ladies told me how finely I grew, and the young ones were proud of my company. But when the third year had a little advanced, my relations used to tell my mother that pretty Miss Clary was shot up into a woman. The gentlemen began now not to let their eyes glance over me, and in most places I found myself distinguished : but observed, the more I grew into the esteem of their sex, the more I lost the favour of my own. Some of those whom I had been fami- liar with, grew cold and indifferent; others mis- took by design, my meaning, made me speak what I never thought, and so by degrees took occasion to break off all acquaintance. There were several little insignificant reflections cast upon me, as being a lady of a great many quaintnesses, and such like, which I seemed not to take notice of. But my mother coming home about a week ago, told me there was a scandal spread about town by my ene- mies, that would at once ruin me for ever for a beauty : I earnestly intreated her to know it ; she refused me, but yesterday it discovered itself. Be- ing in an assembly of gentlemen and ladies, one of the gentlemen who had been very facetious to several of the ladies, at last turning to me, * And as for you, madam. Prior has already given us your character, " That air and harmony of shape express, Fine by degrees, yet beautifully less." I perceived immediately a malignant smile display itself in the countenance of some of the ladies, N" 85. GUARDIAN. l65 which they seconded with a scornful flutter of the fan ; until one of them, unable any longer to con- tain, asked the gentleman if he did not remember what Congreve said about Aurelia, for she thought it mighty pretty. He made no answer, but instantly repeated the verses : " The Miilcibers who in the Minories sweat, And niiissive bars on stubborn anvils beat: Deloiiii'd themselves, yet forge those stays of steel, Wliich aim Aureiia with a shape to kill." This was no sooner over, but it was easily discern- ible what an ill-natured satisfaction most of the company took ; and tlie more pleasure they shew- ed by dwelhng upon the two last lines, the more they increased my trouble and confusion. And now, sir, after this tedious account, what would you advise me to ? Is there no way to be cleared of these malicious calumnies ? What is beauty worth that makes the possessor thus unhappy ? Why was nature so lavish of her gifts to me, as to make her kindness prove a cruelty? They tell me my shape is delicate, my eyes sparkling, my lips T know not what, my cheeks, forsooth, adorned with a just mixture of the rose and lily ; but I wish this face was barely not disagreeable, this voice harsh and unharmonious, these limbs only not deformed, and then perhaps I might live easy and unmolested, and neither raise love and admiration in the men, nor scandal and hatred in the women. Your very humble servant, Clarina.' The best answer I can make my fair correspon- dent is, tliat she ought to comfort herself with this consideration, that those who talk thus of her l66 GUARDIAN. N*85. know it is false, but wish they could make others believe it true. It is not they think you deformed, but are vexed that they themselves were not as nicely framed. If you will take an old man's advice, laugh, and be not concerned at them ; they have attained what they endeavoured if they make you uneasy ; for it is envy that has made them so. I would not have you wish your shape one sixtieth part of an inch disproportioned, nor desire your face might be impoverished with the ruin of half a feature, though numbers of remain- ing beauties might make the loss insensible ; but take courage, go into the brightest assemblies, and the world will quickly confess it to be a scandal. Thus Plato, hearing it was asserted by some per- sons that he was a very bad man, * I shall take care,' said he, ' to live so, that no body will believe them.' I shall conclude this paper with a relation of matter of fact. A gay young gentleman in the country, not many years ago, fell desperately in love with a blooming fine creature, whom give me leave to call Melissa, After a pretty long delay, and frequent solicitations, she refused several others of larger estates, and consented to make him happy. But they had not been married much above a twelvemonth, until it appeared too true what Juba says, ' Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in the eye, and palls upon the sense.' Polydore (for that was his name) finding himself grow every day more uneasy, and unwilling she should discover the cause, for diversion came up to town, and to avoid all suspicions, brought Melissa along with him. After some stay here. N 85. GUARDIAN. 16? Polydore was one day informed, that a set of ladies over their tea-table, in the circle of scandal, had touched upon Melissa And was that the silly thing so much talked of ! How did she ever grow into a toast ! For their parts they had eyes as well as the men, but could not discover where her beauties lay. Polydore, upon hearing this, flew im- mediately home, and told Melissa with the utmost transport, that he was now fully convinced how numberless were her charms, since her own sex would not allow her any. ' Mr. Ironside, Button's Coffee-house. ' I HAVE observed that this day you make mention of Will's coffee-house, as a place where people are too polite to hold a man in dis- course by the button. Every body knows your honour frequents this house ; therefore they will take an advantage against me, and say, if my com- pany was as civil as that at Will's, you would say so: therefore pray your honour, do not be afraid of doing me justice, because people would think it may be a conceit below you on this occasion to name the name of Your humble servant, Daniel Button.'*^' ' The young poets are in the back room, and tak( their places as you directed.' * Daniel Button had been a servant in the countess of War- wick's family, and under the pationa-;e of Addison kept a cotfee-house on the south side of Russell-street, about two doors from Covent-garden. Here it was that the wits of that time used to assemble. It is said that when Addison had suftered any vexation from the countess, he withdrew the company from Button's house. 168 GUARDIAN. N 86. N86. FRIDAY, JUNE 19, 1713. -Cui mens divinior, atque os JUagna sonaturum HoK. 1 Sat. iv, 43. who writes With faucy high, and bold and daring flights. Creech. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' siu, Oxford, June 16, 1713. 1 HE classical writers, according to your advice, are by no means neglected by me, while I pursue my studies in divinity. 1 am persuaded that they are fountains of good sense and eloquence ; and that it is absolutely necessary for a young mind to form itself upon such models. For by a careful study of their style and manner, we shall at least avoid those faults, into which a youthful imagina- tion is apt to hurry us ; such as luxuriance of fan- cy, licentiousness of style, redundancy of thought, and false ornaments, As I have been flattered by my friends, that I have some genius for poetry, I sometimes turn my thoughts that way : and with pleasure reflect, that I have got over that childish part of life, which delights in points and turns of wit : and that! can take a manly and rational satis- faction in that which is called painting in poetry. Whether it be, that in these copyings of nature, the object is placed in such lights and circum- stances as strike the fancy agreeably j or whether N 86. GUARDIAN. 169 we are surprized to find objects that are absent, placed before our eyes ; or whether it be our admi- ration of the author's art and dexterity ; or whether we amuse ourselves with comparing the picture and the original ; or rather (which is most probable) because all other reasons concur to affect us; we are wonderfully charmed with these drawings after the life, this magic that raises apparitions in the fancy. * Landskips, or still-life, work much less upon us, than representations of the postures or passions of living creatures. Again, those passions or pos- tures strike us more or less in proportion to the ease or violence of their motions. An horse grazing moves us less than one stretching in a race, and a racer le&s than one in the fury of a battle. It is Very difficult, I believe, to express violent motions which are fleeting and transitory, either in colours, or words. In poetry it requires great spirit in thought, and energy in style ; which we find more of in the eastern poetry, than in either the Greek or Roman. The great Creator, who accommodated himself to those he vouchsafed to speak to, hath put into the mouths of his prophets such sublime sentiments and exalted language, as must abash the pride and wit of man. In the book of Job, the most ancient poem in the world, we have such paintings and descriptions as I have spoken of, in great variety. I shall at present make some re- marks on the celebrated description of the horse in that holy book, and compare it with those drawn by Homer and Virgil. ' Homer hath the following similitude of an horse twice over in the Iliad, which Virgil hath copied from him ; at least he hath deviated less from Homer, than Mr. Dryden hath from him : VOL, 11. Q 170 GUARDIAN. N' S6. " Freed from his keepers, thus with broken reins The wanton courser prances o'er the plains ; Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds, And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds; Or seeks his watering in the well-known flood, To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood : He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain. And o'er his shoulders flows his waving mane ; He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high, Before his ample chest the foaming waters fly." Virgil's description is much fuller than the forep:oing;, which, as I said, is only a simile ; whereas Virgil professes to treat of the nature of the horse. It is thus admirably translated : " The fiery courser, when he hears from far The sprightly trumpets, and the shouts of war, Pricks up his ears, and trembling with delight. Shifts pace, and paws ; and hopes the promis'd fight. On his right shoulder his thick mane reclin'd. Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. His horny hoofs are jetty black and round ; His chin is double ; starting, with a bound He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow ; He bears his rider headlong on the foe." " Now follows that in the book of Job ; which under all the disadvantages of having been written in a language little understood ; of being expressed in phrases peculiar to a part of the world, whose manner of thinking and speaking seems to us very uncouth ; and, above all, of appearing in a prose translation ; is nevertheless so transcendently above the heathen descriptions, that hereby we may per- ceive how faint and languid the images are, which are formed by mortal authors, when compared with that which is figured as it were, just as it appears in the eye of the Creator. God speaking to Job, asks him. n" 86. GUARDIAN. 171 " Hast thou given the horse strength ? hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper ? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength. He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not af- frighted ; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swallovveth the ground with fierceness and rage ; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He sailh amongst the trumpets. Ha, ha ; and he smelleth the battle afar off; the thunder of the captains, and the shouting." ' Here are all the great and sprightly images, that thought can form of this generous beast, ex- pressed in such force and vigour of style, as would have given the great wits of antiquity new laws for the sublime, had they been acquainted with these writings. I cannot but particularly observe, that whereas the classical poets chiefly endeavour to paint the outward figure, lineaments, and motions ; the sacred poet makes all the beauties to flow from an inward principle in the creature he describes, and thereby gives great spirit and vivacity to hie descraption. The following phrases and circum- stances seem singularly remarkable : " Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?" Homer and Virgil mention nothing about the neck of the horse, but his mane. The sacred author, by the bold figure of thunder, not only expresses the shaking of that remarkable beauty in the horse, and the flakes of hair which naturally suggest the idea of lightning; but likewise the violent agitation and force of tlie neck, which in the oriental tongues had been flatly expressed by a metaphor less than this. a2 172 GUARDIAN. N" 86. " Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper ? There is a twofold beauty in tiiis expression, wliich not only marks the courage of this beast, by asking if he can be scared ? but Ukewise raises a noble image of his swiftness, by insinuating, that if he could be frighted, he would bound away with the nimbleness of a grasshopper. " The glory of his nostrils is terrible." This is more strong and concise than that of Virgil, which yet is the noblest line that was ever written without inspiration : ** Colleetumque premens vohit sub naribics ignem." Georg. iii. 85. *' And in his nostrils rolls collected fire." ** He vejoiceth in his strength He mocketh at fear neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha ;" are signs of courage, as I said before, flow- ing from an inward principle. There is a pecuhar beauty in his " not believing it is the sound of the trumpet:" that, is, he cannot believe it for joy; but when he was sure of it, and is " amongst the trumpets, he saith. Ha, ha;" he neighs, he re- joices. His docility is elegantly painted in his being unmoved at the " rattling quiver, the gUtter- ing tpear and the shield ;" and is well imitated by Oppian (who undoubtedly read Job as well as Vir- gil) in his poem upon hunting : " How firm the manag'd war-horse keeps his ground. Nor breaks his order tho' the trumpets sound! With fearless eye the glittering host surveys, And glares directly at the helmet's blaze! The master's word, the laws of war he knows, And when to stop, and when to charge the foes," n" SG. GUARDIAN. 173 " He swalloweth the ground," is an expression for prodigious swiftness, in use among the Arabians, Job's countrymen, at this day. The Latins have something hke it : " Latumque fugA consutnere campum." Nemesian. " In flight the extended champaiu to consume," " Carpere yrata fugd." Virg. Georg. iii. 142. *' In flight to crop the meads." " campumque volatu " Cmot rapuere, pedum vestigia quaras." SiL. Ital. " When in their flight the champain they have snatch'd, No track is left behind." ' It is indeed tlie boldest and noblest of images for swiftness ; nor have I met with any thing that comes so near it, as Mr, Pope's in Windsor Forest : " The impatient courser pants in every vein, And pawing, seems to beat tiie distant plain ; Hills, vales, and floods, appear already crost, And ere he starts, a tiiousaiid steps are lost." " He smelleth the battle afar off," and what follows about the shouting, is a circumstance expressed with great spirit by Lucan : " So when the ring with joyful shouts rebounds. With rage and pride the imprison'd courser bounds: He frets, he foams, he rends his idle rein ; Springs o'er the fence, and headlong seeks the plain." I am, Sir, Your ever obliged servant, JojiN Lizard.' a'.i 174 GUARDIAN. N" 8?. N*87. SATURDAY, JUNE -20, 1713. Constiterant hinc Thisbe, Piramus illinCf Inque vkem/uerat captatus anhelilm oi'is. Ovid. Met. iv. 71. Here Pyramus, there gentle Thisbe, strove To catch each other's breath, the balmy breeze of love. My precautions are made up of all that I can hear and see, translate, borrow, paraphrase, or contract, from the persons with whom I mingle and converse, and the authors whom I read. But the grave dis- courses which I sometimes give the town, do not win so much attention as lighter matters. For this reason it is, that I am obliged to consider vice as it is ridi- culous, and accompanied with gallantry, else I find in a very short time 1 shall lie like waste paper on the tables of coffee-houses. Where I have taken most pains, I often find myself least read. There is a spirit of in- trigue got into all, even the meanest of the people, and the very servants are bent upon delights, and commence oglers and languishers. I happened the other day to pass by a gentleman's house, and saw the most flippant scene of low love that I have ever observed. The maid was rubbing the windows with- in side of the house, and her humble servant the footman was so happy a man as to be employed in cleaning the same glass on the side towards the street. The wench began with the greatest seve^ rity of aspect imaginable, and breathing on the N* 87. GUARDIAN. 175 giass, followed it v^ith a dry cloth; her opposite observed her, and fetching a deep sigh, as if it were his last, with a very disconsolate air did the same on his side of the window. He still worked on and languished, until at last his fair one smiled, but covered herself, and spreading the napkin in her hand, concealed herself from her admirer, while he took pains, as it were, to work through all that intercepted their meeting. This pretty contest held for four or five large panes of glass, until at last the waggery was turned into a humo- rous way of breathing in each other's faces, and catching the impression. The gay creatures were thus loving and pleasing their imaginations with their nearness and distance, until the windows were so transparent that the beauty of the female made the man-servant impatient of beholding it, and the whole house besides being abroad, he ran in, and they romped out of my sight. It may be imagined these oglers of no quality, made a more sudden application of the intention of kind sighs and glances, than those whose education lays them under greater restraints, and who are consequently more slow in their advances. I have often ob- served all the low part of the town in love, and taking a hackney-coach have considered all that passed by me in that light, as these cities are com- posed of crowds wherein there is not one who is not lawfully or unlawfully engaged in that passion. When oue is in this speculation, it is not unplea- sant to observe alliances between those males and females whose lot it is to act in public. Thus the woods in the middle of summer are not more en- tertained with the different notes of birds, than the town is of different voices of the several sorts of people who act in public ; they are divided int^j 176 GUARDIAN. n" 87. classes, and crowds made for crowds. The hack- ney-coachmen, chairmen, and porters, are the lovers of the hawker-women, fruitresses, and milk- maids. They are a wild world of themselves, and have voices significant of their private inclinations, which strangers can take no notice of. Thus a wench with fruit looks like a madwoman when she cries wares you see she does not carry, but those in the secret know that cry is only an assignation to an hackney-coachman who is driving by, and un- derstands her. The whole people is in an intrigue, and the undiscerning passengers are unacquainted with the meaning of what they hear all round them. They know not how to separate the cries of mercenary traders, from the sighs and lamenta- tions of languishing lovers. The common face of modesty is lost among the ordinary part of the world, and the general corruption of manners is visible, from the loss of all deference in the low people towards those of condition. One order of mankind trips fast after the next above it, and by this rule you may trace iniquity from the conversa- tions of the most wealthy, down to those of the humblest degree. It is an act of great resolution to pass by a crowd of polite footmen, who can rally, make love, ridicule, and observe upon all the pas- sengers who are obliged to go by the places where they wait. This licence makes different characters among them, and there are beaux, party-men, and free-thinkers in livery. I take it for a rule, that there is no bad man but makes a bad woman, and the contagion of vice is what should make people cautious of their behaviour. Juvenal says, there is the greatest reverence to be had to the presence of children ; it may be as well said of the presence of servants, and it would be some kind of virtue, if N 87^ GUARDIAN. 177 we kept oar vices to ourselves. It is a feeble au- thority which has not the support of personal re- spect, and the dependence founded only upon their receiving their maintenance of us is not of force enough to support us against an habitual behaviour, for which they contemn and deride us. No man can be well served, but by those who have an opinion of his merit; and that opinion cannot be kept up, but by an exemption from those faults which we would restrain in our dependents. Though our fopperies imitated are subjects of laughter, our vices transferred to our servants give matter of lamentation. But there is nothing in which our families are so docile, as in the imitation of our delights. It is therefore but common pru- dence to take care, that our inferiors know of none but our innocent ones. It is, methinks, a very ar- rogant thing to expect, that the single consideration of not offending us should curb our servants from vice, when much higher motives cannot moderate our own inclinations. But I began this paper with an observation, that the lower world is got into fashionable vices, and above all, to the under- standing the language of the eye. There is nothing but writing songs which the footmen do not prac- tise as well as their masters. Spurious races of mankind, which pine in want, and perish in their first months of being, come into the world from this degeneracy. The possession of wealth and affluence seems to carry some faint extenuation of his guilt who is sunk by it into luxury; but poverty and servitude accompanied with tiie vices of wealth and licentiousness, is, I believe, a circumstance of ill peculiar to our age. This may, perhaps, be mat- ter of jest, or is overlooked by those who do not turn tlieir thoughts upon the actions of others. 178 GUARDIAN. N' 87. But from that one particular, of the immorality of our servants arising from the negligence of masters of families in their care of them, flows that irresis- tible torrent of disasters which spreads itself through all human life. Old age oppressed with beggary, youth drawn into the commission of murders and robberies, both owe their disaster to this evil. If we consider the happiness which grows out of a fatherly conduct towards servants, it would encourage a man to that sort of care, as much as the effects of a Uber- tine behaviour to them would affright us. Lycurgus is a man of that noble disposition, that his domestics, in a nation of the greatest liberty, enjoy a freedom known only to themselves, who live under his roof. He is the banker, the counsel, the parent of all his numerous dependents. Kindness is ihe law of his house, and the way to his favour is being gentle and well-natured to their fellow-ser- vants. Every one recommends himself, by appear- ing officious to let their patron know the merit of others under his care. Many little fortunes have streamed out of his favour ; and his prudence is such, that the fountain is not exhausted by the channels from it, but its way cleared to run new meanders. He bestows with so much judgment, that his bounty is the increase of his wealth ; all ^vho share his favour, are enabled to enjoy it by his example, and he has not only made, but qualified many a man to be rich. >:"88. GUARDIAN. 179 N 88. MONDAY, JUNE 22, 1713. Mens agitat molem Virg. IEq. vi. 727. A mind informs the mass. 1 o one Avho regards things with a philosophical eye, and hath a soul capable of being delighted with the sense that truth and knowledge prevail among men, it must be a grateful reflection to think that the sublimest truths, which among the heathens, only here and there one of brighter parts and more leisure than ordinary could attain to, are now grown familiar to the meanest inhabitants of these nations. Whence came this surprising change, that re- gions formerly inhabited by ignorant and savage people, should now outshine ancient Greece, and the other eastern countries so renowned of old, in the most elevated notions of theology and mora- lity ? Is it the effect of our own parts and industry? Have our common mechanics more refined under- standings than the ancient philosophers ? It is owing to the God of truth, who came down from heaven, and condescended to be himself our teacher. It is as we are Christians, that wc profess more excellent and divine truths than the rest of mankind. If there be any of the free-thinkers who are not Virect atheists, charity would incline one to believe them ignorant of what is here advanced. And it is for their information that I write this paper, the 180 GUARDIAN. N* 8&. design of which is to compare the ideas that Chris- tians entertain of the being and attributes of a God, with the gross notions of the heathen world. Is it possible for the mind of man to conceive a- more august idea of the Deity than is set forth in the holy scriptures? I shall throw together some pas- sages relating to this subject, which I propose only as philosophical sentiments, to be considered by a free-thinker. Though there be that are called gods, yet to us there is but one God. He made the heaven, and heaven of heavens, with all their host ; the earth and all things that are therein ; the seas and all that is therein ; He said. Let them be, and it was so. He hath stretched forth the heavens. He hath founded the earth, and hung it upon nothing. He hath shut up the sea with doors, and said. Hi- therto shall thou come and no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be staid. The Lord is an in- visible spirit, in whom we live, and move, and have our being. He is the fountain of life. He pre- serveth man and beast. He giveth food to all flesh. In his hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind. The Lord maketh poor and maketh rich. He bringeth low and lifteth up. He killeth and maketh alive. He woundeth and he healeth. By him kings reign, and princes decree justice, and not a sparrow falleth to the ground without him. All angels, authorities, and powers, are subject to him. He appointeth the moon for seasons, and the sun knoweth his going- down. He thundereth with his voice, and direct- eth it under the whole lieaven, and his lightning unto the ends of the earth. Fire and hail, snow and vapour, wind and storm, fulfil his word. The . Lord is king for ever and ever, and his dominion is N*8S. GUARDIAN. 181 an everlasting dominion. The earth and the hea- vens shall perish, but thou, O Lord, remainest. They all shall wax old, as doth a garment, and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be changed ; but thou art the same, and thy years shall have no end. God is perfect in knowledge ; his understanding is infinite. He is the Father of lights. He lookfcth to the ends of the -earth, and seeth under the whole heaven. The Lord behold- eth all the children of men from the place of his habitation, and considereth all their works. He knovveth our down-sitting and up-rising. He com- passeth our path, and counteth our steps. He is acquainted with all our ways ; and when we enter our closet, and shut our door, he seeth us. He knoweth the things that come into our mind, every one of them ; and no thought can be withholdea irom him. The Lord is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. He is a father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widow. He is the God of peace, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort and consolation. The Lord is great, and we know him not; his greatness is un- searchable. Who but he hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out the hea- vens with a span ? Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty. Thou art very great, thou art clothed with honour. Heaven is thy throne, and earth is thy footstool.' Can the mind of a philosopher rise to a more just and magnificent, and at the same time a more amiable idea of the Deity than is here set forth, in the strongest images and most emphatical language ? And yet this is the language of shepherds and fishermen. The ilUterate Jews, and poor perse- voL, II. n 182 GUARDIAN. n"88. cuted Christians retained these noble sentiments, while the pohte and powerful nations of the earth were given up to that sottish sort of worship, of which the following elegant description is extracted from one of the inspired writers. ' Who hath formed a god, and molten an image that is px'ofitable for nothing ? The smith with the tongs both worketh in the coals and fashioneth it with hammers, and worketh it with the strength of his arms : yea he is hungry, and his strength faileth. He drinketh no water, and is faint. A man planteth an ash, and the rain doth nourish it. He burneth part thereof in the fire. He rosteth rost. He warm- eth himself And the residue thereof, he maketh a god. He faileth down unto it, and worshippeth it, and prayeth unto it, and saith. Deliver me, for thou art my God. None considereth in his heart, I have burnt part of it in the fire, yea also, I have baked bread upon the coals thereof; I have roasted flesh and eaten it, and shall I make the residue thereof an abomination ? Shall I fall down to the stock of a tree ? '* In such circumstances as these, for a man to de- clare for free-thinking, and disengage himself from the yoke of idolatry, were doing honour to human nature, and a work well becoming the great as- ierters of reason. But in a church, where our ado- ration is directed to the Supreme Being, and (to sav the least) where is nothing either in the object or manner of worship that contradicts the light of na- ture ; there, under the pretence of free-thinking, to rail at the religious institutions of their country, sheweth an undistinguishing genius that mistakes opposition for freedom of thought. And indeed, * Isai. xlW, paasim. n" 89. GUARDIAN. 183 notwithstanding the pretences of some few among our free-thinkers, I can hardly think there are men so stupid and inconsistent with themselves, as to have a serious regard for natural religion, and at the same time use their utmost endeavours to destroy the credit of those sacred writings, which, as they have been the means of bringing these parts of the world to the knowledge of natural religion, so in case they lose their authority over the minds of men, we should of course sink into the same idolatry which we see practised by other unenlightened nations. If a person who exerts himself in the modern way of free-thinking be not a stupid idolater, it is undeni- able that he contributes all he can to the making other men so, either by ignorance or design ; which lays him under the dilemma, I will not say of being a fool or knave, but of incurring the contempt or de- testation of mankind. N89. TUESDAY, JUNE 23, 1713. Jgneus est ollis rigor, et coelestis origo Seminibus Virg. ^n. vi. 730. They boast ethereal vigonr, and are form'd From seeds of heavenly birth. The same faculty of reason and understanding which placeth us above the brute part of the crea- tion, doth also subject our minds to greater and more manifold disquiets than creatures of an infe- R 2 184 GUARDIAN. N 89. rior rank are sensible of. It is by this that Me an- ticipate future disasters, and oft create to ourselves real pain from imaginary evils, as well as multiply the pangs arising from those which cannot be avoided. It behoves us therefore to make the best use of that sublime talent, which so long as it continues the in- strument of passion, will serve only to make us more miserable, in proportion as we are more excellent than other beings. It is the privilege of a thinking being to with- draw from the objects that solicit his senses, and. turn his thoughts inward on himself. For my own part 1 often mitigate the pain arising from the little misfortunes and disappointments that checker hu- man life, by this introversion of my faculties, wherein I regard my own soul as the image of her Creator, and receive great consolation from behold- ing those perfections which testify her divine ori- ginal, and lead me into some knowledge of her everlasting Archetype. But there is not any property or circumstance of my being that I contemplate with more joy than my immortality. I can easily overlook any present momentary sorrow, when I reflect that it is in my power to be happy a thousand years hence. If it were not for this thought, I had rather be an oyster than a man, the most stupid and senseless of ani- mals, than a reasonable mind tortured with an ex- treme innate desire of that perfection which it de- spairs to obtain. It is with great pleasure that I behold instinct, reason, and faith, concurring to attest this com- fortable truth. It is revealed from heaven, it is discovered by philosophers ; and the ignorant, un- enlightened part of mankind have a natural pro- >l 89. GUARDIAN. 185 pensity to believe it. It is an agreeable entertain- ment to reflect on the various shapes under which this doctrine has appeared in the world. The Py- thagorean transmigration, the sensual habitations of the Mahometan, and the shady realms of Pluto, do all agree in the main points, the continuation of our existence, and the distribution of rewards and pu- nishments proportioned to the merits or demerits of men in this life. But in all these schemes there is something gross and improbable, that shocks a reasonable and specu- lative mind. Whereas nothing can be more rational and sublime than the Christian idea of a future state. ' Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, the things which God hath prepared for those that love him.' The above-mentioned schemes are narrow tran- scripts of our present state : but in this indefinite description there is something ineffably great and noble. The mind of man must be raised to a higher pitch, not only to partake the enjoyments of the Christian paradise, but even to be able to frame any notion of them. Nevertheless, in order to gratify our imagination, and by way of condescension to our low way of thinking, the ideas of light, glory, a crown, &c. are made use of to adumbrate that which we cannot directly understand. ' The Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away, and behold all things are new. There shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither light of the sun : r3 186 guahdian. n'' 89. for the Lord God giveth them light, and shall make them drink of the river of his pleasures ; and they shall reign for ever and ever. They shall receive a crown of glory which fadeth not away/ These are chearing reflections ; and I have often wondered that men could be found so dull and phlegmatic, as to prefer the thought of annihilation before them ; or so ill-natured, as to endeavour to persuade mankind to the disbelief of what is so pleasing and profitable even in the prospect ; or so blind, as not to see there is a Deity, and if there be, that this scheme of things flows from his attributes, and evidently corresponds with the other parts of his creation. I know not how to account for this absurd turn of thought, except it proceed from a want of other employment joined with an affectation of singularity. I shall, therefore, inform our modern free-thinkers of two points whereof they seem to be ignorant. The first is, that it is not the being singular, but being singular for something, that argues either ex- traordinary endowments of nature, or benevolent intentions to mankind, which draws the admiration and esteem of the world. A mistake in this point naturally arises from that confusion of thought which I do not remember to have seen so great instances of in any Mriters, as in certain modern free-thinkers. The other point is, that there are innumerable objects within the reach of a human mind, and each of these objects may be viewed in innumerable lights and positions, and the relations arising be- tween them are innumerable. There is therefore an infinity of things whereon to employ their thoughts, if not with advantage to the world, at least with amusement to themselves, and without offence or prejudice to other people. If they pro- n" 90. GUARDIAN. 187 ceed to exert their talent of free-thinking in this way; they may be innocently dull, and no one take any notice of it. But to see men without cither wit or argument pretend to run down divine and human laws, and treat their fellow-subjects with contempt for professing a belief of those points on which the present as well as future interest of mankind depends, is not to be endured. For my own part, I shall omit no endeavours to render their persons as despicable, and their practices as odious, in the eye of the world, as they deserve. N^ 90. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24, 1713. Fungar vice cotis IIoR. Ars Poet. ver. 30-}. 1 11 play the whetstone. Creech. It is, they say, frequent with authors to write letters to thcmselVes, either out of laziness or vanity. The foUov.ini; is genuine, and I think, deserves tlic attention of every man of sense in England. ' TO THE GUARDIAN. f t;,[^ June 20. ' Though I am not ajH to make com- plaints, and have never yet troubled you with any, and little thought I ever should; yet seeing that in 188 GUARDIAN. N 90. your paper of this dqy, you take no notice of yester- day's Examiner, as I hoped you would ; my love for my religion, which is so nearly concerned, would not permit me to be silent. The matter, sir, is this. A bishop of our church (to whom the Examiner himself has nothing to object, but his care and concern for the protestant religion, which by him it seems, is thought a sufficient fault) has lately published a book, in which he endeavours to shew the folly, ignorance, and mistake of the church of Rome in its worship of saints. From this the Examiner takes occasion to fall upon the author with his utmost malice, and to make him the subject of his ridicule. Is it then become a crime for a protestant to speak or write in defence of his religion ? Shall a papist have leave to print and publish in England what he pleases in defence of his own opinions, with the Examiner's approbation ; and shall not a protestant be permitted to write an answer to it ? For this, Mr. Guardian, is the present case. Last year a papist (or to please Mr. Examiner, a Roman catholic) published the life of St. Wenefrede, for the use of those devout pilgrims who go in great numbers to offer up their prayers to her at her well. This gave occasion to the worthy prelate, in whose (liocese that well is, to make some observations upon it ; and in order to undeceive so many poor deluded people, to shew how little reason, and how small au- thority there is, not only to believe any of the mira- cles attributed to St. Wenefrede, but even to believe there ever was such a person in the world. And shall then a good man, upon such an account, be liable to be abused in so public a manner ? Can any good Church-of-England man bear to see a bishop, one whom her present majesty was pleased to make, treated in so ludicrous a way ? Or shall one pass by the scurrility and the immodesty that is to be found in T^"\)0. GUARDIAN. 189 several parts of the paper ? Who can with patience see St. Paul and St. Wenefrede set by the Examiner, upon a level, and the authority for one made by him to be equal with that for the other ? Who that is a Christian, can endure his insipid mirth upon so serious an occasion ? I must confess it raises my in- dignation to the frreatest hei^^ht, to see a pen that has been long employed in writing panegyrics upon persons of the first rank (who would be indeed to be pitied were they to depend upon that for their praise) to see, I say, the same pen at last made use of in de- fence of popery. ' I think I may now with justice, congratulate with those whom the Examiner dislikes ; smce for my own part, I should reckon it my great honour to be worthy his dis-esteem, and should count his censure praise. I am. Sir, Your most humble servant.' The above letter complains, with great justice, against this incorrigible creature ; but I do not in- sert any thing concerning him, in hopes what I say will have any effect upon him, but to prevent the impression which what he says may have upon others. I shall end this paper with a letter I have just now written to a gentleman, whose writings are often inserted in the Guardian, without deviation of one tittle from what he sends. ' s!R, J"ne 23. ' I HAVE received the favour of yours with the inclosed, which made up the papers of the two last days. I cannot i)ut look upon myself with great cout'cmi)t and mortification, when I reflect ithat I have thrown away more hours than you 190 GUARDIAN. n" 91. have lived, though you so much excel me in every thing for which I would live. Until I knew you, I thought it the privilege of angels only to be very knowing and very innocent. In the warmth of youth to be capable of such abstracted and virtuous reflections (with a suitable life) as those with which you entertain yourself, is the utmost of human per- fection and felicity. The greatest honour I can conceive done to another, is when an elder does re- verence to a younger, though that younger is not distinguished above him by fortune. Your contempt of pleasures, riches, and honour, will crown you with them all, and I wish you them not for your own sake, but for the reason which only would make them eligible to yourself, the good of others. I am, dearest youth. Your friend and admirer, Nestor Ironside.' N 91. THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 1713. Inest sua gratia parvis. Little things have their value. It is the great rule of behaviour, ' to follow na- ture.' The author of the following letter is so much convinced of this truth, that he turns what would render a man of little soul exceptions, humoursome. N"" 91. GUARDIAN. lyi and particular in all his actions, to a subject of raillery and mirth. He is, you must know, but half as tall as an ordinary man, but is contented to be still at his friend's elbow, and has set up a club, by which he hopes to bring those of his own size into a little reputation. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. * SIR, ' I REMEMBER a saying of yours con- cerning persons in low circumstances of stature, that their littleness would hardly be taken notice of, if they did not manifest a consciousness of it themselves in all their behaviour. Indeed, the obser- vation that no man is ridiculous, for being what he is, but only in the affectation of being something more, is equally true in regard to the mind and the body. ' I question not but it will be pleasing to you to hear that a set of us have formed a society, who are sworn to " dare to be short," and boldly bear out the dignity of littleness under the noses of those enormous engrossers of manhood, those hyperboli- cal monsters of the species, the tall fellows that overlook us. ' The day of our institution was the tenth of De- cember, being the shortest of the year, on which we are to hold an annual feast over a dish of shrimps. ' Tlie place we have chosen for this meeting is in the Little Piazza, not without an eye to the neigh- bourhood of Mr. Powel's opera, for the performers of which we have, as becomes us, a brotherly af- fection. 192 GUARDIAN. N" 91- ' At our first resort hither an old woman brought her son to the club-room, desiring he might be educated in this school, because she saw here were finer boys than ordinary. However, this accident no way discouraged our designs. We l)egan with sending invitations to those of a stature not exceed- ing five foot, to repair to our assembly ; but the greater part returned excuses, or pretended they were not qualified. ' One said he was indeed but five foot at pre- sent, but represented he should soon exceed that proportion, his periwig-maker and shoe- maker having lately promised him three inches more be- twixt them. ' Another alleged, he was so unfortunate as to have one leg shorter than the other, and whoever had determined his stature to five foot, had taken him at a disadvantage ; for when he was mounted un the other leg, he was at least five foot two inches and a half. ' There were some who questioned the exactness of cur measures; and others, instead of complying, returned us informations of people yet shorter than themselves. In a word, almost every one recom- mended some neighbour or acquaintance, whom he was willing we should look upon to be less than he. We were not a little ashamed that those who are pasit the years of growth, and whose beards jironounce them men, should be guilty of as many unfair tricks in this point, as the most aspiring children when they are measured. ' We therefore proceeded to fit up the club- room, and provide conveniences for our accom- modation. In the first place we caused a total re- moval of all chairs, stools, and tables, which had served the gross of mankind for many years. The >f91. GUARDIAN. 193 disadvantages we had undergone while we made use of these, were unspeakable. The president's whole body M'as sunk in the elbow chair : and when his arms were spread over it, he appeared (to the great lessening of his dignity) like a child in a go-cart; It was also so wide in the seat, as to give a wag oc- casion of saying, that notwithstanding the president sat in it, there was a sede vacante. ' The table was so high, that one who came by chance to the door, seeing our chins just above the pewter dishes, took us for a circle of men that sat ready to be shaved, and sent in half a dozen barbers. Another time one of the club spoke con- tumeliously of the president, imagining he had been absent, when he was only eclipsed by a flask of Florence which stood on the table in a parallel line before his face. We therefore new-furnished the room in all respects proporlionably to us, and bad the door made lower, so as to admit no man above five foot high, without brushing his foretop, which whoever does, is utterly unqualilied to sit among us. ' Some of the statutes of the dub are as folhnv : ' I. Ik it be proved upon any member, though never so duly qualified, that he strives as much as possible to get above his size, by stretching, cock- ing, or the like ; or that he hath stood on tiptoe in a crowd, with design to be taken for as tall a man as the rest ; or hath privily conveyed any large book, crrcket, or other device under him, to exalt him on his seat ; every such oflender shall be sentenced to walk in pumps for a whole month. ' II. If any member shall take advantage from the fulness or length of his wig, or any i)art of his dress, or the immoderate extent of his hat, or other- voL, ir. s 494 GUARDIAN. N. 91. wise, to seem larger and higher than he is ; it is or- dered, he shall wear red heels to his shoes, and a red feather in his hat, which may apparently mark and set bounds to the extremities of his small dimension, that all people may readily find him out between his hat and his shoes. ' III. If any member shall purchase a horse for his T)wn riding above fourteen hands and a half in height, that horse shall forthwith be sold, a Scotch galloway bought in its stead for him, and the overplus of the money shall treat the club. ' IV. If any member, in direct contradiction to the fundamental laws of the society, shall wear the heels of his shoes exceeding one inch and half, it shall be interpreted as an open renunciation of little- ness, and the criminal shall be instantly expelled. Note, The form to be used in expelling a member shall be in these words, ' Go from among us, and be tall if you can !' * It is the unanimous opinion of our whole society, that since the race of mankind is granted to have de- creased in stature from the beginning to this present, it is the intent of nature itself, that men should be little ; and we believe that all human kind shall at last grow down to perfection, that is to say, be re- duced to our own measure. I am, very literally. Your humble servant. Bob Short.' N 92. GUARDIAN. 195 N 92. FRIDAY, JUNE 26, 1713. Homunculi quanti sunt, cum recogito ! Plautu*. Now I recollect, how considerable are these little men! ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. ' SIR, 1 HE club, rising early this evening, I have time to finish my account of it. You are already acquainted with the nature and design of our institution ; the characters of the members, and the topics of our conversation, are what remain for the subject of this epistle. ' The most eminent persons of our assembly are, a little poet, a little lover, a little politician, and a little hero. The first of these, Dick Distich by name, we have elected president, not only as he is the shortest of us all, but because he has entertained so just a sense of the stature, as to go generally in black, that he may appear yet less. Nay, to that perfection is he arrived, that he stoops as he walks. The figure of the man is odd enough : he is a lively little creature, with long arms and legs. A spider is no ill emblem of him. He has been taken at a distance for a small windmill. But indeed what principally moved us in his favour was his talent in poetry, for he hath pro- mised to undertake a long work in short verse to celebrate the heroes of our size. He has entertained 196 GUARDIAN. N^QS. SO great a respect for Statins, on the score of that line, " Major in exiguo rcgnabat corpore virtusJ" " A larger portion of lieroic fire Did his small limbs and little breast inspire," that he once designed to translate the whole Thebaid for the sake of little Tydeus. ' Tom Tiptoe, a dapper black fellow, is the most gallant lover of the age. He is particularly nice in his habiliments; and to the end justice may be done him that way, constantly employs the same artist who makes attire for the neighbouring princes and ladies of quality at Mr. Powel's. The vivacity of his temper inclines him sometimes to boast of the favours of the fair. He was the other night, excus- ing his absence from the club upon account of an as- signation with a lady, (and, as he had the vanity to tell us, a tall one too) who had consented to the full accomplishment of his desires that evening ; but one of the company, who was his confident, assured us she was a woman of humour, and made the agree- ment on this condition, that his toe * should be tied to hers. ' Our politician is a person of real gravity, and professed wisdom. Gravity in a man of this size, .compared with that of one of ordinary bulk, ap- pears like the gravity of a cat, compared with that of a lion. This gentleman is accustomed to talk to himself, and was once over-heard to compare his own person to a little cabinet, wherein are locked up all the secrets of state, and refined * Pope seems to allude licre, and at the close of tills paper, to his \vag<^is!i ronndeau on Mrs. Eliz. Thomas, mistress to H. Cromwell, esq. See Biogr. Brit. art. Pope, p. 3414. N* 92. GUARDIAN. 197 schemes of princes. His face is pale and meagre, which proceeds from much watching and studying for the welfare of Europe, which is also thought to have stinted his growth : for he hath destroyed his own constitution with taking care of that of the nation. He is what Mons. Balzac calls a great dis- tiller of the maxims of Tacitus. When he speaks, it is slowly, and word by word, as one that is loth to enrich you too fast with his observations : like a lim- bec that gives you drop by drop, an extract of the simples in it. ' The last I shall mention is Tim Tuck, the hero. He is particularly remarkable for the length of his sword, which intersects his person in a cross line, and makes him appear not unlike a fly, that the boys have run a pin through and set a walking. He once challenged a tall fellow for giving him a blow on the pate with his elbow as he passed along the street. But what he especially values himself upon is, that in all the campaigns he has made, he never once ducked at the whiz of a cannon-ball. Tim was full as large at fourteen years old as he is now. This we are tender of mentioning, your little heroes being generally choleric. ' These are the gentlemen that most enliven onr conversation. The discourse generally turns upon such accidents, whether fortunate or unfortunate, a> are daily occasioned by our size. These we faith- fully communicate, either as matter of mirth or of consolation to each other. The pnsident had lately an unlucky fall, being unable to keep hi> legs on a stormy day ; whereupon he informed us, it was no new disaster, but the same a certain ancient poet had been subject to, who is recorded to have been so light, that he was obliged to poise himself against the wind with lead on one side and J98 GtJARDlAN. N92. his own works on the other. The lover confessed the other night that he had been cured of love to a tall woman by reading over the legend of Ragotine in Scarron, with his tea, three mornings successively. Our hero rarely acquaints us with any of his un- successful adventures. And as for the politician, he declares himself an utter enemy to all kind of burlesque, so will never discompose the austerity of his aspect by laughing at our adventures, much less discover any of his own in this ludicrous light. Whatever he tells of any accidents that befal him, is by way of complaint, nor is he to be laughed at, but in his absence. ' We are likewise particularly careful to com- municate to the club all such passages of history, or characters of illustrious personages, as any way reflect honour on little men. Tim Tuck having but just reading enough for a mihtary man, per- petually entertains us with the same stories, of lit- tle David, that conquered the mighty Goliah, and little Luxembourg, that made Louis XIV. a grand monarque, never forgetting little Alexander the Great. Dick Distich celebrates the exceeding- humanity of Augustus, who called Horace Lepi- dissimum Homunciolum ; and is wonderfully pleased with Voiture and Scarron, for having so well de- scribed their diminutive forms to ail posterity. He is peremptorily of opinion, against a great reader, and all his adherents, that ^Esop was not a jot properer or handsomer than he is represented by tlie common pictures. But the soldier believes with the learned person above-mentioned ; for he thinks none but an impudent tall author could be guilty of such an unmannerly piece of satire on little warriors, as his battle of the mouse and the frog. The politician is very proud of a certain N' 92. aUARDIAN. 199 king of Effypt, called Bocchor, uho, as Diodorus assures us, was a person of very low stature, but far exceeded all that weijt before bim in discretion and politics. 'As I am secretary to the club, it is my busi- ness whenever we meet to take minutes of the transactions. This has enabled me to send you the foregoing particulars, as I may hereafter other memoirs. We have spies appointed in every quar- ter of the town, to give us informations of the misbehaviour of such refractory persons as refuse to be subject to our statutes. Whatsoever aspiring practices any of these our people shall be guilty of in their amours, single combats, or any indirect means to manhood, we shall certainly be acquainted with, and publish to the world for their punishment and reformation. For the president has granted me the sole property of exposing and shewing to the town all such intractable dwarfs, whose circum- stances exempt them from being carried about in boxes; reserving only to himself, as the right of a pott, those smart characters that will shine in cj)igrams. Venerable Nestor, I salute you in the name of the club. Bou Shout, Secretary.' 200 GUAEDIAN. N 93. N 93. SATURDAY, JUNE 27, 1713. Est animus lucis contemptor. Virg. ^n. ix. 205. The tiling call'd life with ease I can disclaim. Drydek. The following letters are curious and instructive, and shall make up the business of the day. ' TO THE AUTHOR OF THE GUARDIAN. 'SIR, June 25, 1713. ' The inclosed is a faithful translation from an old author, which if it deserves your no- tice, let the readers guess whether he was a heathen or a Christian.* I am. Your most humble servant/ " I CANNOT, my friends, forbear letting you know what I think of death ; for methinks I view and understand it much better, the nearer I ap- proach to it. I am convinced that your fathers, those illustrious persons whom I so much loved and honoured, do not cease to live, though they have passed through what we call death ; they are un- doubtedly still living, but it is that sort of life Xenoph. Opera, vol. i. p. 547, et seq. edit. A Ernesti, 8vo. Lips. 1763. 4 torn. M. T. Cicer. Opera, Pars Xmas, p. 3754, et seq. Cato Major, De Senectute, xxii. edit. J. Verburgij, 8vo. Amst. 1734. N* 93. GUARDIAN. 201 which alone deserves truly to be called life. In effect, while we are confined to bodies, we ought to esteem ourselves no other than a sort of galley- slaves at the chain, since the soul, which is some- what divine, and descends from heaven as the ])lace of its original, seems debased and dishonoured by the mixture with flesh and blood, and to be in a state of banishment from its celestial country. I cannot help thinking too, that one main reason of uniting souls to bodies was, that the great work of the universe might have spectators to admire the beautiful order of nature, the regular motion of heavenly bodies, who should strive to express that regularity in the uniformity of their lives. When I consider the boundless activity of our minds, the remembrance we have of things past, our foresight of what is to come ; when I reflect on the noble discoveries and vast improvements, by which these minds have advanced arts and sciences ; I am entirely persuaded, and out of all doubt that a nature which has in itself a fund of so many excel- lent things cannot possibly be mortal. I observe further, that my mind is altogether simple, without the mixture of any substance or nature different from its own ; I conclude from thence that it i indivisible, and consequently catinot perish. " By no means think, therefore, my dear friend*, when I shall have quitted you, that I cease to be, or shall subsist no where. Remember, that while we live together, you do not sec my mind, and yet are sure that I have one actuating and moving my body ; doubt not then but that this same mind will have a being when it is separated, though you can- not then perceive its actions. What nonsense would it be to pay those honours to great men after their deaths, which we constantly do, if their 202 GUARDIAN. N93. souls did not then subsist ? For my own part, I could never imagine that our minds live only when united to bodies, and die when they leave them ; or that they shall cease to think and understand when disengaged from bodies, which without them have neither sense nor reason : on the contrary, I believe the soul when separated from matter, to enjoy the greatest purity and simplicity of its nature, and to have much more wisdom and light than while it was united. We see when the body dies what becomes of all the parts which composed it ; but we do not see the mind, either in the body, or when it leaves it. Nothing more resembles death than sleep, and it is in that state the soul chiefly shews it has something divine in its nature. How much more then must it shew it when entirely disengaged ?" ' TO THE AUTHOR OF THE GUARDIAN. ' SIR, ' Since you have not refused to in- sert matters of a theological nature in those ex- cellent papers with which you daily both instruct and divert us, I earnestly desire you to print the following paper. The notions therein advanced are, for aught I know, new to the English reader, and if they are true, will afford room for many use- ful inferences. ' No man that reads the evangelists, but must observe, that our blessed Saviour does upon every occasion bend all his force and zeal to rebuke and correct the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. Upon that subject he shews a warmth which one meets with in no other part of his sermons. They were so enraged at this public detection of their secret N 93. GUARDIAN. 203 villanies, by one who saw through all their dis- guises, that they joined in the prosecution of him, which was so vigorous, that Pilate at last consent- ed to his death. The frequency and vehemence of these representations of our Lord, have made the word Pharisee to be looked upon as odious amongst Christians, and to mean only one who lays the utmost stress upon the outward, ceremonial, and ritual part of his religion, without having such an inward sense of it, as would lead him to a general and sincere observance of those duties which can only arise from the heart, and which cannot be supposed to spring from a desire of applause or profit. ' This is plain from the history of the life and actions of our Lord in the four evangelists. One of them, St. Luke, continued his history down in a second part, which we commonly call The Acts of the Apostles. Now it is observable, that in thi second part, in which he gives a particular account of what the apostles did and suffered at Jerusalem upon their first entering upon their commission, and also of what St. Paul did after he was conse- crated to the apostleship until his journey to Rome, we find not only no opposition to Christianity from the Pharisees, but several signal occasions in which they assisted its first teachers, when the Christian church was in its infant state. The true, zealous, and hearty persecutors of Christianity at that time were the Sadducees, whom we may truly call the free-thinkers among the Jews. They believed nei- ther resurrection, nor angel, nor spirit, i. e. m plain English, they were deists at least, if not atheists. Tliey could outwardly comply with, and conform to the establishment in church and state, and they pretended forsooth to belong only to a 204 GUARDIAN. N* 9*. particular sect ; and because there was nothing in the law of Moses which in so many words asserted a resurrection, they appeared to adhere to that in a particular manner beyond any other part of the Old Testament. These men therefore justly dread- ed the spreading of Christianity after the ascension of our Lord, because it was wholly founded upon, his resurrection. ' Accordingly therefore when Peter and John had cured the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple, and had thereby raised a wonderful expectation of themselves among the people, the priests and Sadducees, Acts iv. clapt them up, and isent them away for the first time with a severe re- primand. Quickly after, when the deaths of Ana- nias and Sapphira, and the many miracles wrought after those severe instances of the apostolical power had alarmed the priests, who looked upon the temple-worship, and consequently their bread, to be struck at; these priests, and all they that were with them, who were of the sect of the Sadducees, imprisoned the apostles, intending to examine them in the great council the next day. Where, when the council met, and the priests and Sadducees proposed to proceed with great rigour against them, we find that Gamaliel, a very eminent Pharisee, St. Paul's master, a man of great authority among the people, many of whose determinations v/e have still preserved in the body of the Jewish traditions, commonly called the Talmud, opposed their heat, and told them, for aught they knew, the apostles might be actuated by the Spirit of God, and that in such a case it would be in vain to oppose them, since if they did so, they would only fight against God, whom they could not overcome. Gamaliel was so considerable a man among his own sect, K 93. nuARDiAN. 205 that we may reasonably believe he spoke the sense of his party as well as his own. St. Stephen's mar- tyrdom came on presently after, in which we do not find the Pharisees, as such, had any hand ; it is probable that he was persecuted by those who had before imprisoned Peter and John. One novice indeed of that sect was so zealous, that he kept the clothes of those that stoned him. This novice, whose zeal went beyond all bounds, was the great St. Paul, who was peculiarly honoured with a call from heaven by which he was converted, and he was afterwards, by God himself, appointed to be the apostle of the Gentiles. Besides him, and him too reclamied in no i^lorious a manner, we find no one Pharisee either named or hinted at by St. Luke, as an opposer of Christianity in these earliest days. What others might do we know not. But we find the Sadducees pursuing St. Paul even to death at his coming to Jerusalem, in the 21st of the Acts. lie then, upon all occasions, owned himself to be a Pharisee. In the 22nd chapter he told the peojjle, that he had been bred up at the teet of Gamaliel after the strictest manner, in the law of his fathers. In the 23rd chapter he told the council that he was a Pharisee, the son of a Pha- risee, and that he was accused for asserting the hope and resurrection of the dead, which was their darling doctrine. Hereupon the Pharisees stood by him, though they did not own our Saviour to be. the Messiah, yet they would not deny but some angel or spirit might have spoken to him, and then if they opposed him, they sliould fight against God. This was the very argument CJarnaliel had used before. The resurrection of our Lord, which they saw so strenuously asserted by the apostles, whose miracles they also saw and owned, (Acts, iv. 16) VOL. II. T 206 GUARDIAN. n" 93, seems to have struck them, and many of them were converted (Acts, xv. 5) even without a miracle, and the rest stood still and made no opposition. ' We see here what the part was which the Pharisees acted in this important conjuncture. Of the Sadducees we meet not with one in the whole apostolic history that was converted. We hear of no miracles wrought to convince any of them, though there was an eminent one wrought to re- claim a Pharisee. St. Paul, we see, after his con- version, always gloried in his having been bred a Pharisee. He did so to the people of Jerusalem, to the great council, to king Agrippa, and to the Phihppians. So that from hence we may justly infer, that it was not their institution, which was in itself laudable, which our blessed Saviour found fault with, but it was their hypocrisy, their covel- ousness, their oppression, their overvaluing them- selves upon their zeal for the ceremonial law, and their adding to that yoke by their traditions, all which were not properly essentials of their institu- tion, that our Lord blamed. * But I must not, run on. What I would observe, sir, is that atheism is more dreadful, and would be more grievous to human society, if it were in- vested with sufficient power, than religion under any shape, where its professors do at the bottom believe what they profess. I despair not of a papist's conversion, though I would not willingly lie at a zealot papist's mercy, (and no protestant would, if he knew what popery is) though he truly believes in our Saviour. But the free-thinker who scarcely believes there is a God, and certainly dis- believes revelation, is a very terrible animal. He will talk of natural rights, and the just freedoms of r/iankind, no longer than until he himself gets into N" 94. GUARDIAN. 20? power ; and by the instance before us, we have small grounds to hope for his salvation, or that God will ever vouchsafe him sufficient grace to re- claim him from errors, which have been so imme- diately levelled against himself. * If these notions be true, as I verily believe they are, I thought they might be worth publishing at this time, for which reason they are sent in this manner to you by, Sir, Your most humble servant, WilliaM WottoN. N" 94. MONDAY, JUNE 29, 1713. Ingenium, sihi quod vacuus desumpsit Athenas, Et studiis annos septem dedit, insenuitque Lihris et curis ; statuA tacitumius exit Plerumque, et risu populum quatit HoR. 2. Ep. ii. 81. IMITATED. The man, who stretch'd in Isis' calm retreat, To books and study gives seven years compleat, See ! strow'd with learned dust, his night-cap on, He walks, an object nevy beneath the sun! The boys flock round him, and tlie people tare; So stiff, so mute ! some statue you would swear, Stept from its pedestal to take the air ! Pope. oiNCE our success in worldly matters may be said to depend upon our education, it will be very much to the purpose to inquire if the foundations of our fortune could not be laid deeper and surer than T 3 ^08 GUARDIAN. N" 94. they are. The education of youth falls of necessity under the direction of those, who through fondness to us and our abilities, as well as to their own un- warrantable conjectures, are very likely to be de- ceived ; and the misery of it is, that the poor crea- tures, who are the sufferers upon wrong advances, seldom find out the errors, until they become irre- trievable. As the greater number of all degrees and conditions have their education at the univer- sities, the errors which I conceive to be in those places fall most naturally under the following ob- servations. The first mismanagement in these pub- lic nurseries, is the calling together a number of pupils, of howsoever difterent ages, views and ca- pacities, to the same lectures. Surely there can be no reason to think, that a delicate tender babe, just weaned from the bosom of his mother, indulged in all the impertinences of his heart's desire, should be equally capable of receiving a lecture of philosophy, with a hardy ruffian of full age, who has been occasionally scourged through some of the great schools, groaned under constant rebuke and chastisement, and maintained a ten years war with literature, under very strict and rugged discipline. I know the reader has pleased himself with an answer to this already, viz. That an attention to the particular abilities and designs of the pupil cannot be expected from the trifling salary paid upon such accoinit. The price indeed which is thought a sufficient reward for any advantages a youth can receire from a man of learning, is an abominable consideration ; the enlarging which, would not only increase the care of tutors, but would be a very great encouragement to such as designed to take this province upon them, to fur- nish themselves with a more general and extensive N 94. GUARDIAN. 209 knowledge. As the case now stands, those of the first quality pay their tutors but little above half so much as they do their footmen : what morality, what history, what taste of the modern languages, what lastly, that can make a man happy or great, may not be expected in return for such an immense treasure. It is monstrous indeed, that the men of the best estates and families, are more solicitous about the tutelage of a favourite dog or horse, than of their heirs male. The next evil is the pedantical veneration that is maintained at the university for the Greek and Latin, which puts the youth upon such exercises as many of them are incapable of performing, with any tolerable success. Upon this emergency they are succoured by the allowed wits of their respective colleges, who are always ready to befriend them with two or three hundred Latin or Greek words thrown together, with a very small proportion of sense. But the most established error of our university education, is the general neglect of all the little (jualifications and accomplishments which make up the character of a well-bred man, and the general attention to what is called deep-learning. But as there are very few blessed with a genius, that shall force success by the strength of itself alone, and few occasions of life that require the aid of such genius ; the vast majority of the unblessed souls ought to store themselves with such acquisitions, in which every man has capacity to make a consi- derable progress, and from which every common occasion of life may reap great advantage. The persons that may be useful to us in the making our fortunes, are such as are already happy in their own ; I may proceed to say, that the men of figure and family are more superficial in their education, t3 210 GUARDIAN. n"94. than those of a less degree, and of course, are ready to encourage and protect that qualification in another, which they themselves are masters of. For their own application implies the pursuit of something commendable ; and when they see their own characters proposed as imitable, they must be won by such an irresistible flattery. But those of the university, who are to make their fortunes by a ready insinuation into the favour of their supe- riors, contemn this necessary foppery so far, as not to be able to speak common sense to them without hesitation, perplexity, and confusion. For want of care in acquiring less accomplishments which adorn ordinary life, he that is so unhappy as to be born poor, is condemned to a method that will very pro- bably keep him so. I hope ail the learned will forgive me what is said purely for their service, and tends to no other in- jury against them, than admonishing them not to overlook such little qualifications, as they every day see defeat their greater excellencies in the pur- suit both of reputation and fortune. If the youth of the university were to be ad- vanced, according to their sufficiency in the se- vere progress of learning ; or ' riches could be secured to men of understanding, and favour to men of skill ;' then indeed all studies were solemnly to be defied, that did not seriously pursue the main end ; but since our merit is to be tried by the unskilful many, we must gratify the sense of the in- judicious majority, satisfy ourselves that the shame of a trivial qualification, sticks only upon him that prefers it to one more substantial. The more ac- complishments a man is master of, the better is he prepared for a more extended acquaintance, and upon these considerations without doubt, the au- N 94. GUARDIAN. 211 thor of the Italian book called II Cortegiano, or the courtier,* makes throwing the bar, vaulting the horse, nay even wrestling, with several other as low qualifications, necessary for the man whom he figures for a perfect courtier ; for this reason no doubt, because his end being to find grace in the eyes of men of all degrees, the means to pursue this end, was the furnishing him with such real and seeming excellencies as each degree had its parti- cular taste of. But those of the university, instead of employing their leisure hours in the pursuit of such acquisitions as would shorten their way to better fortune, enjoy those moments at certain houses in the town, or repair to others at very pretty distances out of it, where * they drink and forget their poverty, and remember their misery no more/ Persons of this indigent education are apt to pass upon themselves and others for modest, especially in the point of behaviour ; though it is easy to prove that this mistaken modesty not only arises from ignorance, but begets the appearance of its opposite, pride. For he that is conscious of his own insufficiency to address his superiors with- out appearing ridiculous, is by that betrayed into the same neglect and indifference towards them, which may bear the construction of pride. From this habit they begin to argue against the base sub- missive application from men of letters to men of fortune, and be grieved when they see, as Ben Jon- son, says, * The learned pate Duck to the golden fool .' Written by Conte Baldassar Castiglione, and published in Italian and English, vith a lite of the antl.or, by A. P Castig- lionej of the same family. 4to. Loud. 1727. 212 GUARDIAN. N 94. though these are points of necessity and conve- nience, and to be esteemed submissions rather to the occasion than to the person. It was a fine an- swer of Diogenes, who being asked in mockery, why philosophers were the followers of rich men, and not rich men of philosophers, replied, ' Be- cause the one knew what they had need of, and the other did not.' It certainly must be difficult to prove, that a man of business, or a profession, ought not to be what we call a gentleman, but yet very few of them are so. Upon this account they have little conversation with those who might do them most service, but upon such occasions only as application is made to them in their particular calling ; and for any thing they can do or say in such matters have their reward, and therefore ra- ther receive than confer an obligation ; whereas he that adds his being agreeable to his being service- able, is constantly in a capacity of obliging others. The character of a beau is, I think, what the men that pretend to learning please themselves in ridi- culing : and yet if we compare these persons as we see them in public, we shall find that the lettered coxcombs without good-breeding, give more just occasion to raillery, than the unlettered coxcombs with it : as our behaviour falls within the judgment of more persons than our conversation, and a failure in it is therefore more visible. What pleasant victories over the loud, the saucy, and the illite- rate, would attend the men of learning and breed- ing; which qualifications, could we but join them, would beget such a confidence, as arising from good sense and good-nature, would never let us oppress others, or desert ourselves. In short, whether a man intends a life of business or pleasure, it is im- possible to pursue either in an elegant manner, N 95. GUARDIAN. 215 without the help of good breeding'. I shall con- clude with the face at least of a regular discourse ; and say, if it is our behaviour and address upon all occasions that prejudice people in our favour, or to our disadvantage, and the more substantial parts, as our learning and industry, cannot possibly ap- pear but to few; it is not justifiable to spend so much time in that which so very few are judges of, and utterly neglect that which falls within the censure of so many. W95. TUESDAY, JUNE 30, 1713. Aliena negotia centum Hor. 2 Sat. vi. 33. A crowd of petitioners. Creech. 1 FIND business increase upon me very much, as will appear by the following letters. 'SIR, Oxford, June 2^, 1713. ' This day Mr. Oliver Purville, gen- tleman, property-man to the theatre royal in the room of Mr. William Peer, deceased, arrived here in widow Bartlett's waggon. He is an humble member of the Little Club, and a passionate man, which makes him tell the disasters which he met with on his road hither, a little too incoherently to be rightly understood. By what I can gather from him, it seems that within three miles of this 214 GUARDIAN. n' 95. side Wickham, the party was set upon by high- \vaytnen. Mr. Purville was supercargo to the great hamper in which were the following goods. The chains of Jaffier and Pierre ; the crowns and scep- ters of the posterity of Banquo ; the bull, bear and horse of captain Otter ; bones, skulls, pickaxes, a bottle of brandy, and five muskets ; fourscore pieces of stock-gold, and thirty pieces of tin-silver hid in a green purse within a skull. These the robbers, by being put up safe, supposed to be true, and rid off with, not forgetting to take Mr. Purville's own current coin. They broke the armour of Jacomo, which was cased up in the same hamper, and one of them put on the said Jacomo's mask to escape. They also did several extravagancies with no other purpose but to do mischief; they broke a mace for the lord mayor of London. They also destroyed the world, the sun and moon, which lay loose in the waggon. Mrs. Bartlett is frighted out of her wits, for Purville says he has her servant's receipt for the world, and expects she shall make it good. Purville is resolved to take no lodgings in town, but makes behind the scenes a bed chamber of the hamper. His bed is that in which Desdemona is to die, and he uses the sheet in which Mr. Johnson is tied up in a comedy for his own bed of nights. It is to be hoped the great ones will consider Mr. Purville's loss. One of the robbers has sent, by a country fellow, the stock gold, and had the impu- dence to write the followins: letter to Mr. Purville. " If you had been an honest man, you would not have put bad money upon men who ven- ture their lives for it. But we shall see you when you come back. Philip Scowrer." No 95. GUAKDIAN. 215 ' There are many things in this matter which employ the ablest men here, as, whether an action will lie for the world among people who make the most of words ? or whether it be advisable to call that round ball the world, and if we do not call it so, whether we can have any remedy ? the ablest lawyer here says there is no help ; for if you call it the world, it will be answered, how could the world be in one shire, to wit, that of Buckingham ; for the county must be named, and if you do not name it, we shall certainly be nonsuited. I do not know whether I make myself understood ; but you understand me right when you believe I am Your most humble servant, and faithful correspondent. The Prompter/ ' Honoured Sir, ' Your character of Guardian makes it not only necessary, but becoming, to have seve- ral employed under you. And being myself ambi- tious of your service, I am now your humble peti- tioner to be admitted into a place I do not find yet disposed of I mean that of your lion-catcher. It was, sir, for want of such commission from your honour, that very many lions have lately escaped. However, I made bold to distinguish a couple. One I found in a coffee-house He was of the larger sort, looked fierce, and roared loud. I considered wherein he was dangerous ; and accordingly ex- pressed my displeasure against him, in such a man- ner upon his chaps, that now he is not able to shew his teeth. The other was a small lion, who was slipping by me as I stood at the corner of an alley I smelt the creature presently, and catched at him. but he got oft' with the loss of a lock of hair only. 216 GUARDIAN. n" 95. which proved of a dark colour. This and the teeth above-mentioned I have by me, and design them both for a present to Button's coffee house. * Besides this way of deahng with them, I have invented many curious traps, snares, and artificial baits, which, it is humbly conceived, cannot fail of clearing the kingdom of the whole species in a short time. This is humbly submitted to your honour's consideration ; and I am ready to appear before your honour, to answer to such questions as you, in your great wisdom, shall think meet to ask, whenever you please to command. Your Honour's most obedient humble servant. Midsummer-day. Hercules Crabtuee. ' N. B. I have an excellent nose.' Tom's Coffee-house, in Cornhill, June 19, 1713. ' SIR, ' Reading in your yesterday's paper a letter from Daniel Button, in recommendation of his coffee-house for polite conversation and free- dom from the argument by the Button, I make bold to send you this to assure you, that at this place there is as yet kept up as good a decorum in the debates of politics, trade, stocks, &c. as at Will's, or at any other coffee-house at your end of the town. In order therefore to preserve this house from the arbitrary way of forcing an assent, by seizing on the collar, neckcloth, or any other part of the body, or dress, it would be of signal service if you would be pleased to intimate, that we, who frequent this place after Exchange-time, N* 05. GUARDIAN. 217 shall have the honour of seeing you here sometimes ; for that would be a sufficient guard to us from all such petty practices, and also be a means of en- abling the honest man, who keeps the house, to continue to serve us with the best bohea and green tea, and coffee, and will in a particular manner oblige. Sir, Your humble servant, James Diaper. P. S. The room above stairs is the handsomest in this part of the town, furnished with large pier glasses for persons to view themselves in, who have no business with any body else, and every way fit for the reception of fine gentlemen.' ' SIR, ' I AM a very great scholar, wear a fair wig, and have an immense number of books curiously bound and gilt. I excel in a singularity of diction and manners, and visit persons of the first qualitj'. In fine, I have by me a great quan- tity of cockle-shells, which, however, does not de- fend me from the insults of another learned man, who neglects me in a most insupportable manner : for I have it from persons of undoubted veracity, that he presumed once to pass by my door without waiting upon me. Whether this be consistent with the respect which we learned men ought to have for rach otiier, I leave to your judgment, and am. Sir, Your affectionate friend, Philautus.' 218 CUARDIAN. n" 95. Oxford, June 18, 1713. ' Friend Nestor, ' I HAD always a great value for thee, and have so still : but I must tell thee, that thou strangely affectest to be sage and solid : now pr'ythee let me observe to thee, that though it be common enough for people as they grow older to grow graver, yet it is not so common to become wiser. Verily to me thou seemest to keep strange com- pany, and with a positive sufficiency incident to old age, to follow too much thine own inventions. Thou dependest too much likewise upon thy corres- pondence here, and art apt to take people's words without consideration. But ray present business with thee is to expostulate with thee about a late paper occasioned as thou say'st, by Jack Lizard's information (my very good friend), that we are to have a Public Act. ' Now I say, in that paper, there is nothing contended for which any man of common-sense will deny ; all that is there said, is that no man or woman's reputation ought to be blasted, i. e. no- body ought to have an ill character, who does not deserve it. Very true ; but here's this false con- sequence insinuated, that therefore nobody ought, to hear of their faults ; or in other words, let any body do as much ill as he pleases, he ought not to be told of it. Art thou a patriot, Mr. Ironside, and wilt thou affirm, that arbitrary proceedings and oppressions ought to be concealed, or justified ? Art thou a gentleman, and would'st thou have base, sordid, ignoble tricks connived at, or tole- rated ? Art thou a scholar, and would'st thou have learning and good-manners discouraged ? Would'st thou have cringing servility, parasitical shuffling. ^"95. GUARDIAN. 219 fawning, and dishonest compliances, made the road to success ? Art thou a Christian, and would'st thou have all villanies within the law practised with impunity ? Should they not be told of it ? It is certain, there are many things which though there are no laws against them, yet ought not to be done ; and in such cases there is no argument so likely to hinder their being done, as the fear of public shame for doing them. The two great rea- sons against an Act are always, the saving of money, and hiding of roguery. " Here many things are omitted, which will be in the speech of the Terraefilius." ' And now, dear Old Iron, I am glad to hear that at these years thou hast gallantry enough left to have thoughts of setting up for a knight-errant, a tamer of monsters, and a defender of distrest damsels. ' Adieu, old fellow, and let me give thee thig advice at parting ; E'en get thyself case-hardened ;* for though the very best steel may snap, yet old iron you know will rust. Umbra. ' Be just, and pubhsh this.' ' Mr. Ironside, Oxford, Sat. 27, 1713. * This day arrived the vanguard of the theatrical army. Your friend, Mr, George Powel, commanded the artillery both celestial and terrestrial. The magazines of snow, liglitning, and thunder, are safely laid up. We have had no dis- aster on the way, but that of breaking Cupid's bow by a jolt of the waggon : but they tell us they make * A conceit on Steel's name ; case-hardening of iron is a superficial conversion of tiiat metal into steel. u 2 220 UARDIAN. N* 96V them very well in Oxford. We all went in a body, and were shewn your chambers in Lincoln college. The Terraefilius expects you down, and we of the theatre design to bring you into town with all our guards. Those of Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, and the faithful retinue of Cato, shall meet you at Shotover. The ghost of Hamlet, and the statue which supped with Don John, both say, that though it be at noon-day, they will attend your entry. Every body expects you with great im- patience. We shall be in very good order when all are come down. We have sent to town for a brick- wall which we forgot. The sea is to come by water. Your most humble servant, and faithful correspondent. The Prompter. N'96. WEDNESDAY, JULY l, 1713. CuncH adsint, meritaque expectent prwmia palma. ViRG. lEa. V. 70. Let all be present at the games piepai'd ; And joyful victors wait the just reward. Drydem. Ihere is no maxim in politics more indisputable, than that a nation should have many honours in reserve for those who do national services. This N96. GUARDIAN. 221 raises emulation, cherishes public merit, and in- spires every one with an ambition which promotes the good of his country. The less expensive these honours are to the public, the more still do they turn to its advantage. The R'omans abounded with these little honorary rewards, that without conferring wealth or riches, gave only place and distinction to the person who received them. An oaken garland to be worn on festivals and public ceremonies, was the glorious recompence of one who had covered a citizen in battle. A soldier would not only venture his life for a mural crown, but think the most hazardous enterprise sufficiently repaid by so noble a donation. But among all honorary rewards which are nei- ther dangerous nor detrimental to the donor, I remember none so remarkable as the titles which are bestowed by the emperor of China. These are never given to any subject, says monsieur le Comte, until the subject is dead. If he has pleased his emperor to the last, he is called in all public memorials by the title which the emperor confers on him after his death, and his children take their ranks accordingly. This keeps the ambitious subject in a perpetual dependence, making him always vigilant and active, and in every thing conformable to the will of his sovereign. There are no honorary rewards among us, which are more esteemed by the person who receives them, and are cheaper to the prince, than the giving of medals. But there is something in the modern manner of celebrating a great action in medals, which makes such a reward much less valuable than it was among the Romans. There is generally but one coin stamped on the occasion, which is made a present to the person who is celebrated on u3 222 6UAED1AN. N' 96. it. By this means his whole fame is in his own custody. The applause that is bestowed upon him is too much limited and confined. He is in pos- session of an honour which the world perhaps knows nothing of. He may be a great man in his own family ; his wife and children may see the monument of an exploit, which the public in a lit- tle time is a stranger to. The Romans took a quite different method in this particular. Their medals were their current money. When an action de- served to be recorded in coin, it was stamped per- haps upon an hundred thousand pieces of money like our shilling, or halfpence, which were issued out of the mint, and became current. This method published every noble action to advantage, and in a short space of time spread through the whole Roman empire. The Romans were so careful to preserve the memory of great events upon their coins, that when any particular piece of money grew very scarce, it was often re-coined by a suc- ceeding emperor, many years after the death of the emperor to whose honour it was first struck. A friend* of mine drew up a project of tiiis kind during the late ministry, which would then have been put in execution had it not been too busy a time for thoughts of that nature. As this project has been very much talked of by the gentleman above-mentioned to men of the greatest genius, a well as quality ; I am informed there is now a de- sign on foot for executing the proposal which was then made, and that we shall have several farthings and halfpence charged on the reverse with many of the glorious particulars of her majesty's reign. This is one of those arts of peace which may very Dr. Swjft. N*96. GUARDIAN. 22S well deserve to be cultivated, and which may be of great use to posterity. As I have in my possession the copy of the paper above-mentioned, which was delivered to the late lord treasurer, I shall here give the public a sight of it. For I do not question but that the curious part of my readers will be very much pleased to see so much matter, and so many useful hints upon this subject, laid together in so clear and concise a manner. The English have not been so careful as other polite nations to preserve the memory of their great actions and events on medals. Their sub- jects are few, their mottos and devices mean, and the coins themselves not numerous enough to spread among the people, or descend to poste- rity. The French have outdone us in these particulars, and by the establishment of a society for the inven- tion of proper inscriptions and designs, have the whole history of their present king in a regular se- ries of medals. They have failed as well as the English, in coining so small a number of each kind, and those of such costly metals, that each species may be lost in a few ages, and is at present no where to be met with but in the cabinets of the curious. The ancient Romans took the only effectual me- thod to disperse and preserve their medals, by making them their current money. Every thing glorious or useful, as well in peace as war, gave occasion to a different coin. Not only an expedition, victory, or triumph, but the exercise of a solemn devotion, the remission of a duty or tax, a new temple, sea-port, or higk 224 GUARDIAN. N* 96. way, were transmitted to posterity after this man- ner. The greatest variety of devices are on their cop- per money, which have most of the designs that are to be met with on the gold and silver, and several peculiar to that metal only. By this means they were dispersed into the remotest corners of the em- pire, came into the possession of the poor as well as rich, and were in no danger of perishing in the hands of those that might have melted down coins of a more valuable metal. Add to all this, that the designs were invented bj" men of genius, and executed by a decree of senate. It is therefore proposed, I. That the English farthings and halfpence be re-coined upon the union of the two nations. II. That they bear the devices and inscriptions al- luding to all the most remarkable ^arts of her ma- jesty's reign. III. That there be a society established for the finding out of proper subjects, inscriptions, and de- vices. IV. That no subject, inscription, or device, be stamped without the approbation of this society, nor, if it be thought proper, without the authority of privy-council. By this means, medals that are at present only a dead treasure, or mere curiosities, will be of use in the ordinary commerce of life, and at the same time, perpetuate the glories of her majesty's reign, reward the labours of her greatest subjects, keep alive in the people a gratitude for public services, and excite the emulation of posterity. To these generous purposes nothing can so much contribute as medals of this kind, which are of undoubted authority, of necessary use and observation, not N* 97. GUARDIAN. 225 perishable by time, nor confined to any certain place ; properties not to be found in books, statues, pictures, buildings, or any other monuments of illus- trious actions. CS* N'97. THURSDAY, JULY 2, 17J3. Furor est post omnia perdere naulum, Juv. Sat. viii. 97. 'Tis mad to lavish what their rapine left. Stepney. * SIR, ' 1 WAS left a thousand pounds by an uncle, and being a man to my thinking very hkely to get a rich widow, I laid aside all thoughts of making my fortune any other way, and without loss of time made my application to one who had buried her husband about a week before. By the help of some of her she-friends, who were my relations, I got into her company when she would see no man be- sides myself and her lawyer, who is a little, rivelled, spindle-shanked gentleman, and married to boot, so that I had no reason to fear him. Upon my first seeing her, she said in conversation within my hearing, that she thought a pale complexion the most agreeable either in man or woman. Now you must know, sir, my face is as white as chalk. This gave me some encouragement; so that to mend the matter I bought a fine flaxen long wig 226 GUAfiDIAN. N*97. that cost me thirty guineas, and found an opportu- nity of seeing her in it the next day. She then let drop some expressions about an agate snufFbox. I immediately took the hint, and bought one, being unwilling to omit any thing that might make me desirable in her eyes. I was betrayed after the same manner into a brocade waistcoat, a sword knot, a pair of silver fringed gloves, and a dia- mond ring. But whether out of fickleness or a design upon me, I cannot tell ; but I found by her discourse, that what she liked one day, she disliked another : so that in six months space I was forced to equip myself above a dozen times. As I told you before, I took her hints at a distance, for I could never find an opportunity of talking with her directly to the point. All this time, however, I was allowed the utmost familiarities with her lap- dog, and have played with it above an hour toge- ther, without receiving the least reprimand, and had many other marks of favour shewn me, which I thought amounted to a promise. If she chanced to drop her fan, she received it from my hands with great civility. If she wanted any thing, I reached it for her, I have filled her tea-pot above an hundred times, and have afterwards received a dish of it from her own hands. Now, sir, do you judge, if after such encouragements, she was not obliged to marry me. I forgot to tell you that I kept a chair by the week, on purpose to carry me thither and back again. Not to trouble you with a long letter, in the space of about a twelvemonth I have run out of my whole thousand pound upon her, having laid out the last fifty in a new suit of clothes, in which I was resolved to receive a final answer, which amounted to this, " that she was engaged to another j that she never dreamt I had n" 97. GUARDIAN. 227 any such thing in my head as marriage ; and that she thought I had frequented her house only because I loved to be in company with my relations. This, you know, sir, is using a man like a fool, and so I told her; but the worst of it is, that I have spent my fortune to no purpose. All therefore, that I de- sire of you is, to tell me whether upon exhibiting the several particulars which I have related to you, I may not sue her for damages in a court of jus- tice. Your advice in this particular will very much oblige Your most humble admirer, Simon Softly.' Before I answer Mr. Softly's request, I find my- self under a necessity of discussing two nice points. First of all. What it is, in cases of this nature, that amounts to an encouragement? Secondly, What it is that amounts to a promi-e ? Each of which subjects requires more time to examine than I am at ))rtsent master of. Kesides, I would have my friend Simon consider, whether he has any counsel that will undertake his cause, in forma pauperis, he having unluckily disabled himself, by his account of the matter, from prosecuting his suit any other way. In answer however to Mr. Softly's request, I shall acquaint him with a method made use of by a young fellow in king Charles the Second's reign, whom I shall here call Silvio, who had long made love with much artifice and intrigue, to a rich widow, whose true name 1 shall conceal under that of Zelinda. Silvio, who was much more smitten with her fortune than her person, finding a twelve- month's application unsuccessful, was resolved to make a saving bargain of it; and since he could 228 eUARDIAN. n" 97. not get the widow's estate into his possession, to recover at least what he had laid out of his own in the pursuit of it. In order to this he presented her with a bill of costs, having particularized in it the several ex- penses he had been at in his long perplexed amour. Zelinda was so pleased with the humour of the fel- low, and his frank way of dealing, that upon the perusal of the bill, she sent him a purse of fifteen hundred guineas ; by the right application of which, the lover in less than a year, got a woman of a greater fortune than her he had missed. The several articles in the bill of costs I pretty well remember, though I have forgotten the particular sum charged to each article. Laid out in supernumerary full-bottomed wigs. Fiddles for a serenade, with a speaking trum- pet. Gilt paper in letters, and billet doux, with per- fumed wax. A ream of sonnets and love verses, purchased at different times of Mr. Triplet at a crown a sheet. To Zelinda two sticks of May-cherries. Last summer at several times, a bushel of peaches. Three porters whom I planted about her to watch her motions. The first who stood centry near her door. The second who had his stand at the stables where her coach was put up. The third who kept watch at the corner of the street where Ned Courtall lives, who has since mar- ried her. Two additional porters planted over her during thr whole month of May. Five conjurors kept in pay all last winter. N*93. GUARDIAN. 229 Spy-money to John Trott her footman, and Mrs. Sarah Wheedle her companion. A new Conningsmark blade to fight Ned Courtall. To Zelinda's woman (Mrs. Abigail) an Indian fan, a dozen pair of white kid gloves, a piece of Flanders lace, and fifteen guineas in dry money. Secret-service money to Betty at the ring. Ditto to Mrs. Tape the mantua-maker. Loss of time. arf N^98. FRIDAY, JULY 3, 1713. In sese redit. Virg. Georg. iv. 444, He resumes himself. J HE first who undertook to instruct the world iu single papers, was Isaac Bickerstaft' of famous me- mory : a man nearly related to the family of the Ironsides. We have often smoaked a pipe together ; for I was so much in his books,"** that at his decease he left me a silver standish, a pair of spectacles, and tlie lamp by which he used to write his lucubrations. The venerable Isaac was succeeded by a gentleman of the same family, very memorable for the shortness of Ills face and of his speeches. This ingenious author published his thoughts, and held his tongue with great applause, for two years together. * Books, i.e. good graces VOL, II. X 230 GUARDIAN. N 98. I, Nestor Ironside, have now for some time under- taken to fill the place of these my two renowned kins- men and predecessors. For it is observed of every branch of our family, that we have all of us a won- derful inclination to give good advice, though it is remarked of some of us, that we are apt on this occa- sion, rather to give than take.* However it be, I cannot but observe with some secret pride, that this way of writing diurnal papers has not succeeded for any space of time in the hands of any persons who are not of our line. I believe I speak within compass, when I affirm, that above a hundred different authors have endea- voured after our family-way of writing, some of which have been writers in other kinds of the greatest eminence in the kingdom : but I do not know how it has happened, they have none of them hit upon the art. Their projects have always dropt after a few unsuccessful essays. It puts me in mind of a story which was lately told me of a pleasant friend of mine, who has a very fine hand on the violin. His maid-servant seeing his instrument lying upon the table, and being sensible there was music in it, if she knew how to fetch it out, drew the bow over every part of the strings, and at last told her master she had tried the fiddle all over, but could not for her heart find where about the tune lay. But though the whole burthen of such a paper is only fit to rest on the shoulders of a Bickerstaff or an Ironside ; there are several who can acquit them- selves of a single day's labour in it with suitable abilities. These are gentlemen whom I have often invited to this trial of wit, and who have several of * An allusion to Steele. N*98. GUARDlAf*. 231 them acquitted themselves to my private emolu- ments; as well as to their own reputation. My paper among the repubhc of letters is the Ulysses his bow, in which every man of wit or learning may try his strength. One who does not care to write a book without being sure of his abilities, may see by this means if his parts and talents are to the public taste. This I take to be of great advantage to men of the best sense, who are always diffident of their private judgment, until it receives a sanction from the public. ' Provoco ad populiim,' ' I appeal to the people,' was the usual saying of a very excel- lent dramatic poet, when he had any dispute with particular persons about the justness and regularity of his productions. It is but a melancholy com- fort for an author to be satisfied that he has written up to the rules of art, when he finds he has no ad- mirers in the world besides himself. Common modesty should, on this occasion, make a man suspect his own judgment, and that he misapplies the rules of his art, when he finds himself singular in the applause which he bestows upon his own Tvritings. The public is always even with an author who has not a just deference for them. The contempt "is reciprocal. ' 1 laugh at every one,' said an old cynic, ' who laughs at me.' ' Do you so,' replied the philosopher ; ' then let me tell you, you live the merriest life of any man in Athens.' It is not therefore the least use of this my paper, that it gives a timorous writer, and such is every good one, an opportunity of putting his abilities to ttie proof, and of sounding the public before he launches into it. For this reason I look upon my ^:)aper as a kind of nursery for authors^ and ques- 32 GUARDIAN. N 98- tion not but some who have made a good figure here, will hereafter flourish under their own names in more long and elaborate works. After having thus far enlarged upon this particular, I have one favour to beg of the candid and courteous reader, that when he meets with any thing in this paper which may appear a little dull and heavy (though I hope this will not be often), he will believe it is the work of some other person, and not of Nes- tor Ironside. I have, I know not how, been drawn into tattle of myself, more majorum, almost the length of a whole Guardian ; I shall therefore fill up the re- paaining part of it with what still relates to my own person, and my correspondents. Now I would have them all know, that on the twentieth instant it is my intention to erect a lion's head in imitation of those I have described in Venice, through which all the private intelligence of that common-wealth is said to pass. This head is to open a most wide and voracious mouth, which shall take in such let- ters and papers as are conveyed to me by my cor- respondents, it being my resolution to have a par- ticular regard to all such matters as come to my hands through the mouth of the lion. There will be under it a box, of which the key will be kept in my own custody, to receive such papers as are hed with rains. I am. Sir, yours, &c. ft^ N 105. SATURDAY, JULY 11, 1713. Quod neque in ArmeniU tif;rcs fecere latebris ; Perdtre nee foetus uusa Lcana suos. Attemrafaciunt, sed non iinpinie, puella ; Scppe, suos utiro qua: nccat, ipsa peril. Ovid. Amor. 2 Eleg. xiv. 35. Tlie tigresses, that haunt th' Armenian wood, AVill s[)are their proper young, tho' pinch'd for food ! ISor will tlie Lybian lionesses slay Tlieir wlieljis : but women are more fierce than they, More barbarous to the tender fruit they bear; Nor Nature's call, tho' loud she cries, will hear. But righteous vengeance oft their crimes pursues. And they are lost themselves who would their children lose. Anon. 1 HERE was no part of the show on the thanks- giving-day that so much pleased and aftt;cted me as the little boys and girls who were ranged with so ^60 GUARDIAN* N 105. much order and decency in that part of the Strand which reaches from the May-pole to Exeter-change. Such a numerous and innocent multitude, clothed in the charity of their benefactors, was a spectacle pleasing both to God and man, and a more beauti- ful expression of joy and thanksgiving than could have been exhibited by all the pomps of a Roman triumph. Never did a more full and unspotted chorus of human creatures join together in a hymn of devotion. The care and tenderness which appear- ed in the looks of their several instructors, who were disposed among this little helpless people, could not forbear touching every heart that had any sentiments of humanity. I am very sorry that her majesty did not see this assembly of objects, so proper to excite that charity and compassion which she bears to all who stand in need of it, though at the same time I question not but her royal bounty will extend itself to them. A charity bestowed on the education of so many of her young subjects, has more merit in it than a thousand pensions to those of a higher fortune who are in greater stations in life. I have always looked on this institution of charity- schools, which of late years has so universally pre- vailed through the whole nation, as the glory of the age we live in, and the most proper means that can be made use of to recover it out of its present dege- neracy and depravation of manners. It seems to promise us an honest and virtuous posterity. There will be few in the next generation, who will not at least be able to write and read, and have not had an early tincture of religion. It is therefore to be hoped that the several persons of wealth and quality, who made their procession through the members of these new-erected seminaries, will not regard them only as n" 105. GUARDIAN. 26l an empty spectacle, or the materials of a fine show, bnt contribute to their maintenance and encrease. For my part, I can scare forbear looking on the as- tonishing victories our arms have been crowned with, to be in some measure the blessings returned upon that national charity which has been so conspicuous of late ; and that the great successes of the last war, for which we lately offered up our thanks, were in some measure occasioned by the several objects which then stood before us. Since I am upon this subject, I shall mention a piece of charity which has not been yet exerted among us, and which deserves our attention the more, because it is practised by most of the nations about us. I mean a provision for foundlings, or for those children, who through want of such a provision, are exposed to the barbarity of cruel and unnatural parents. One does not know how to speak on such a subject without horror : but what multitudes of in- fants have been made away by those who brought them into the world, and were afterwards either ashamed, or unable to provide for them ! There is scarce an assizes where some unhappy wretch is not executed for the murder of a child. And how many more of these monsters of inhu- manity may we suppose to be wholly undiscovered, or cleared for want of legal evidence ! Not to men- tion those, who by unnatural practices do in some measure defeat the intentions of Providence, and destroy their conceptions even before they see the light. In ali these the guilt is equal, though the punishment is not so. But to pass by the greatness of the crime (which is not to be expressed by words) if we only consider it as it robs the commonwealth of its full number of citizens, it certainly deserves the 262 GUARDIAN. N* 105. Utmost application and wisdom of a people to pre- vent it. It is certain, that which* generally betrays these profligate women into it, and overcomes the tender- ness which is natural to them on other occasions, is the fear of shame, or their inability to support those whom they give life to. I shall therefore shew how this evil is prevented in other countries, as I have learned from those who have been conversant in the several great cities in Europe. There are at Paris, Madrid, Lisbon, Rome, and many other large towns, great hospitals built like our colleges. In the walls of these hospitals are placed machines, in the shape of large lanthorns, with a little door in the side of them turned to- wards the street, and a bell hanging by them. The child is deposited in this lanthorn, which is im- mediately turned about into the inside of the hos- pital. The person who conveys the child, rings the bell, and leaves it there, upon which the proper officer comes and receives it without making further inquiries. The parent, or her friend, who lays the child there, generally leaves a note with it, declar- ing whether it be yet christened, the name it should be called by, the particular marks upon it, and the like. It often happens that the parent leaves a note for the maintenance and education of the child, or takes it out after it has been some years in the hospital. Nay, it has been known that the father has afterwards owned the young foundling for his son, or left his estate to him. This is certain, that many are by this means preserved and do signal services to their country, who without such a pro- vision might have perished as abortives, or have come N* 106. GUARDIAN. 263 to an untimely end, and perhaps have brought upon their guilty parents the Hke destruction. This I think is a subject that deserves our most se- rious consideration, for vi^hich reason I hope I shall not be thought impertinent in laying it before my readers. Kj* N' 106. MONDAY, JULY 13, 1713. Quod lUet arcan&y non marrabilefibrA. Pers. Sat. V. 29. The deep recesses of the hnman breast. As I was making up my Monday's provision for the public, I received the following letter, which being a better entertainment than any I can furnish out my- self, I shall set it before the reader, and desire him to fall on without farther ceremony. ' SIR, ' Your two kinsmen and predecessors of immortal memory, were very famous for their dreams and visions, and contrary to all other au- thors never pleased their readers more than when they were nodding. Now it is observed, that the second sight generally runs in the blood ; and, sir, we are in hopes that you yourself, like the rest of your family, may at length prove a dreamer of 264 GUARDIAN. N* 106. dreams, and a seer of visions. In the mean while I beg leave to make you a present of a dream, which may serve to lull your readers until such time as you yourself shall think fit to gratify the public with any of your nocturnal discoveries. ' You must understand, sir, I had yesterday been reading and ruminating upon that passage where Momus is said to have found fault with the make of a man, because he had not a window in his breast. The moral of this story is very obvious, and means no more than that the heart of man is so full of wiles and artifices, treachery and deceit, that there is no guessing at what he is, from his speeches, and outward appearances. I was imme- diately reflecting how happy each of the sexes would be, if there was a window in the breast of every one that makes or receives love. What protestations and perjuries would be saved on the one side, what hy- pocrisy and dissimulation on the other ! I am myself very far gone in this passion for Aurelia, a woman of an unsearchable heart. I would give the world to know the secrets of it, and particularly whether I am really in her good graces, or if not, who is the happy person. ' I fell asleep in this agreeable reverie, when on a sudden methought Aurelia lay by my side. I was placed by her in the posture of Milton's Adam, and with looks of cordial love " hung over her ena- mour'd." As I cast my eye upon her bosom, it appeared to be all of crystal, and so wonderfully transparent that I saw every thought in her heart. The first images I discovered 'in it were fans, silk, ribbands, laces, and many other gewgaws, which lay so thick together, that the whole heart was nothing else but a toyshop. These all faded away N* 106. GUARDIAN. 265 and vanished, when immediately I discerned a long train of coaches and six, equipages and liveries, that ran through the heart, one after another, in a very great hurry for above half an hour together. After this, looking very attentively, I observed the whole space to be filled with a hand of cards, in which I could see distinctly three mattadors. There then followed a quick succession of different scenes. A playhouse, a church, a court, a puppet- show, rose up one after another, until at last they all of them gave place to a pair of new shoes, which kept footing in the heart for a whole hour. These were driven at last off" by a lap-dog, who was succeeded by a guinea-pig, a squirrel, and a monkey. I myself, to my no small joy, brought up the rear of these worthy favourites. I was ra- vished at bemg so happily posted and in full posses- sion of the heart : but as I saw the little figure of myself simpering and mightily pleased with its situa- tion, on a sudden the heart methought gave a sigh, in which, as I found afterwards, my little represen- tative vanished; fur upon applying my eye, I found my place taken up by an ill bred, aukward puppy, witii a money-bag under each arm. This gentle- man however did not keep his station long, before he yielded it up to a wight as disagreeable as him- sel], with a white stick in his hand. These three last figures represented to me, in a lively manner, the conflicts in Aurelia's heart, between Love, Ava- rice, and Ambition, for we justled one another out by turns, and disputed the post for a great while. But at last, to my uns])eakable satisfaction, I saw myself entirely settled m it. 1 was so transported with my success, that I could not forbear hugging my dear piece of crystal, when to my unspeakable VOL. 11. A a 266 GUARDIAN. No 106. mortification I awaked, and found my mistress me- tamorphosed into a pillow. ' This is not the first time I have been thus disap- pointed. ' O venerable Nestor, if you have any skill in dreams, let me know whether I have the same place in the real heart, that 1 had in the visionary one. To tell you truly, I am perplexed to death between hope and fear. I was very sanguine until eleven o'clock this morning, when I overheard an unlucky old woman telling her neighbour that dreams always went by contraries. I did not in- deed before much like the crystal heart, remem- bering that confounded simile in Valentinian, of a maid " as cold as crystal never to be thawed." Besides, I verily believe if I had slept a little longer, that aukward whelp with his money-bags would certainly have made his second entrance. If you can tell the fair-one's mind, it will be no small proof of your art, for I dare say it is more than she herself can do. Every sentence she speaks is a riddle all that I can be certain of is, that I am her and Your humble servant, Peter Puzzle.* N* 107. GUARDIAN. 26? N* 107. TUESDAY, JULY 14, 1713. 'tenlanda via est Virg. Georg. iii. 8. I'll try the experiment. I HAVE lately entertained my reader with two or three letters from a traveller, and may possibly, in some of my future papers, oblige him with more from the same hand. The following one comes from a projector, which is a sort of correspondent as diverting as a traveller; his subject having the same grace of novelty to recommend it, and being equally adapted to the curiosity of the reader. For my own part, I have always had a particular fond- ness for a project, and may say without vanity, that I have a pretty tolerable genius that way myself. I could mention some which I have brought to ma- turity, others which have miscarried, and many more which I have yet by me, and are to take their fate in the world when I see a proper juncture : I had a hand in the land bank,* and was consulted with upon the reformation of manners. I have iiad several designs upon the Thames and the New- river,f not to mention my refinen)ents upon lot- * The land bank was once really proposed, and designed as a rival bank, to lend money upon land security. t This seems to refer to Steele's contrivance for bringing fish to London, which was not completed till four or five years after the date of this paper, and did not succeed. 268 GUARDIAN. N" 107- teries,* and insurancjes, and that never to-be-for- gotten project, which if it had succeeded to my wishes, would have made gold as plentiful in this nation as tin or copper.t If my countrymen have not reaped any advantages from these my designs, it was not for want of any good-will towards them. They are obliged to me for my kind intentions as much as if they had taken effect. Projects are of a two-fold nature : the first arising from public- spirited persons, in which number I declare myself: the other proceeding from a regard to our private interest, of which nature is that in the following letter. ' SIR, * A MAN of your reading knows very well that there were a set of men in old Rome, called by the name of Nomenclators, that is, in English, men who call every one by his name. When a great man stood for any public office, as that of a tribune, a consul, or a censor, he had always one of these nomenclators at his elbow, who whispered in his ear the name of every one he met with, and by that means enabled him to salute every Roman citizen by his name when he asked him for his vote. To come to my purpose : I have with much pains and assiduity qualified myself for a nonienclator to this great city, and shall gladly enter upon my office as soon as I meet with suitable encourage- ment. I will let myself out by the week to any cu- * This seems to allude to Steel's Multiplication Table; a species of lottery which proved illegal. f Tills appears to be another of Addison's oblique strokes at Steele, who is saifl to have been one of the last eminent men in this country who wasted money in search of the philosopher's Btone. N* 107. GUARDIAN. 269 nous country gentleman or foreigner. If he takes nae with him in a coach to the Ring,* I will under- take to teach him, in two or three evenings, the names of the most celebrated persons who frequent that place. If he plants me by his side in the pit, I will call over to him, in the same manner, the whole circle of beauties that are disposed among the boxes, and at the same time point out to him the persons who ogle them from their respective stations. I need not tell you that I may be of the same use in any other public assembly. Nor do I only profess the teaching of names, but of things. Upon the sight of a reigning beauty, I shall mention her admirers, and discover her gallantries, if they are of public notoriety, I shall likewise mark out every toast, the club in which she was elected, and the number of votes that were on her side. Not a woman shall be unexplained that makes a figure either as a maid, a wife, or a widow. The men too shall be set out in their distinguishing charac- ters, and declared whose properties they are. Their wit, wealth, or good-humour, their persons, stations, and titles, shall be described at large. * I have a wife who is a nomenclatress, and will be ready, on any occasion, to attend the ladies. She is of a much more communicative nature than myself, and is acquainted with all the private his- tory of London and Westminster, and ten miles round. She has fifty private amours which nobody yet knows any thing of but herself, and thirty clan- destine marriages that have not been touched by the tip of a tongue. She will wait upon any lady at her own lodgings, and talk by the clock after the rate of three guineas an hour. * lu Hyde-park, then a fashionable place of resort* A a3 Q70 GUARDIAN. N*107. ' N. B. She is a near kinswoman of the author of the New Atalantis.* ' I need not recommend to a man of your saga- city, the usefulness of this project, and do there- fore beg your encouragement of it, which will lay a very great obligation upon Your humble servant/ After this letter from my whimsical correspon- dent, I shall publish one of a more serious nature, which deserves the utmost attention of the public, and in particular of such who are lovers of man- kind. It is on no less a subject than that of dis- covering the longitude, and deserves a much higher name than that of a project, if our language, afforded any such term. But all I can say on this subject will be superfluous when the reader sees the names of those persons by whom this letter is sub- scribed, and who have done me the honour to send it me. I must only take notice, that the first of these gentlemen is the same person who has lately obliged the world with that noble plan, intilled, A Scheme of the Solar System, with the orbits of the planets and comets belonging thereto, described from Dr. Halley's accurate Table of Comets, Phi- losoph. Trans. No. 297, founded on sir Isaac New- ton's wonderful discoveries, by William Whiston, M.A. ' TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. At Button's Coffee-House, near Covent-Garden. ' siu, London, July II, 1713. ' Having a discovery of considerable importance to communicate to the public, and * Mrs. A. D. Manley. N" 107. GUARDIAN. 271 finding that you are pleased to concern yourself in any thing that tends to the common benefit of mankind, we take the liberty to desire the insertion of this letter into your Guardian. We expect no otiier recommendation of it from you, but the allowing of it a place in so useful a paper. Nor do we insist on any protection from you, if what we propose should fall short of what we pretend to; since any disgrace, which in that case must be ex- pected, ought to lie wholly at our own doors, and to be entirely borne by ourselves, which we hope we have provided for by putting our own names to this paper. ' It is well known, sir, to yourself and to the learned, and trading, and sailing world, that the great defect of the art of navigation is, that a ship at sea has no certain method, in either her eastern or western voyages, or even in her less distant sailing from the coasts, to know her longitude, or how much she is gone eastward or westward, as it can easily be known in any clear day or night, how much she is gone northward or southward. The several methods by lunar eclipses, by those of Ju- piter's satellites, by the appulses of the moon to fixed stars, and by the even motions of pendulum clocks and watches, upon how solid foundations soever they are built, still failing in long voyages at sea, when they come to be practised ; and leaving the poor sailors frequently to tlie great inaccuracy of a log-line, or dead reckoning. This defect is so great, and so many ships have been lost by it, and this has been so long and so sensibly known by trading nations, that great rewards are said to be publickly offered for its supply. We are well satis- fied, that the discovery we have to make as to this matter is easily intelligible by ^11, and ready to be 272 GUARDIAN. N*107 practised at sea as well as at land ; that the latitude will thereby be likewise found at the same time ; and that with proper charges it may be made as universal as the world shall please ; nay, that the longitude and latitude may be generally hereby de- termined to a greater degree of exactness than the latitude itself is now usually found at sea. So that on all accounts we hope it will appear very worthy the public consideration. We are ready to disclose it to the world, if we may be assured that no other person shall be allowed to deprive us of those re- wards which the public shall think fit to bestow for such a discovery ; but do not desire actually to re- ceive any benefit of that nature till sir Isaac Newton himself, with such other proper persons as shall be chosen to assist him, have given their opinion in favour of this discovery. If Mr. Ironside pleases so far to oblige the public as to communicate this proposal to the world, he will also lay a great ob- ligation on His very humble servants. Will. Whiston, Humphry Ditton.' N* 108. GUARDIAN. 275 N" 108. WEDNESDAY, JULY 15, 1713. Abieiibus juvenes pafriis et montibus tequi. "ViHG. iEn. ix. 674. -Youths, of height and size, Like firs that on their mother-mountain rise. Dryden. 1 DO not care for burning my fingers in a quarrel, but since I have communicated to the world a plan which has given offl-nce to some gentlemen whom it would not be very safe to disoblige, I must in- sert the following remonstrance; and at the same time promise those of my correspondents, who have drawn this upon themselves, to exhibit to the public any such answer as they shall think proper to make to it. * MR, GUARDIAN, ' I was very much troubled to see the two letters which you lately pu\)lished concerning the short club. You cannot imagine what airs all the little ])ragmalical fellows about us have given themselvfs since the readmg of those papers. Every one cocks and struts upon it, and pretends to overlook us who are two foot higher tlian them- selves. I met with one the other day who was at least three inches above five foot, which you know is the 'statutable measure of that club. This over- grown runt has struck off his heels, lowered his foretop, and contracted his figure, that he might he 274 GUARDIAN. N* 108. looked, upon as a member of this new-erected so- ciety ; nay, so far did his vanity carry him, that he talked familiarly of Tom Tiptoe, and pretends to be an intimate acquaintance of Tim Tuck. For my part, I scorn to speak any thing to the diminution of these little creatures, and should not have minded them, had they been still shuffled among the crowd. Shrubs and underwoods look well enough while they grow within the shades of oaks and cedars J but when these pigmies pretend to draw themselves out from the rest of the world, and form themselves into. a body, it is time for us, who are men of figure, to look about us. If the ladies should once take a liking to such a diminu- tive race of lovers, we should, in a little time, see mankind epitomized, and the whole species in mi- niature ; daisy roots* would grow a fashionable diet. In order therefore to keep our posterity from dwind- ling, and fetch down the pride of this aspiring race of upstarts, we have here instituted a Tall Club. ' As the short club consists of those who are under five foot, ours is to be composed of such as are above six. These we look upon as the two ex- tremes and antagonists of the species : considering all those as neuter, who fill up the middle space. When a man rises beyond six foot, he is an hyper- meter, and may be admitted into the tall club. ' We have already chosen thirty members, the most sightly of all her majesty's subjects. We elected a president, as many of the ancients did their kings, by reason of his lieight, having only confirmed him in that station above ns which nature had given him. He is a Scotch Highlander, and * Daisy roots, boiled in milk, are said to check the growth of puppies. N JOS. GUARDIAN. 275 within an inch of a show. As for my own part, I am but a sesquipedal, having only six foot and a half in stature. Being the shortest member of the club, I am appointed secretary. If you saw us all together, you would take us for the sous of Anak. Our meetings are held like the old gothic parlia- ments, sub dio, in open air; but we shall make an interest, if we can, that we may hold our assem- blies in Westminster-hall when it is not term-time. I must add, to the honour of our club, that it is one of our society who is now finding out the longi- tude.* The device of our public seal is, a crane grasping a pigmy in his right foot. ' I know the short club value themselves very much upon Mr. Distich, who may possibly play some of his pentameters upon us, but if he does, he shall certainly be answered in Alexandrines. For we have a poet among us of a genius as exalted as his stature, and who is very well read in Longinus his treatise concerning the sublime.f Besides, I would have Mr. Distich consider, that if Horace was a short man, Musasus, who makes such a noble figure in Virgil's sixth jEneid, was taller by the head and shoulders than all the people of Elysium. I shall therefore confront his lepidissimum homuncio- nem (a short quotation, and fit for a member of their club) with one that is much longer, and therefore more suitable to a member of ours : *' Quos circumfusos sic est affata Sibylla; Musaum ante omnes: medium nam pluritna turba Uunc habet, atque humeris extantem suscipit altis." Virg. JEix. vi. 666. Probably Mr. Whiston. t Leonard Welsted, whose translation of Longinus first ap- peared in 1712. S76 GUARDIAN. nM08. To these the Sibyl thus her speech address'd : And first to him* surrounded by the rest : Tow'ring iiis height, and ample was his breast. Drvden. ' If after all, this society of little men proceed as they have begun, to magnify themselves, and lessen men of higher stature, we have resolved to make a detachment, some evening or other, that shall bring away their whole club in a pair of pan- niers, and imprison them in a cupboard which we have set apart for that use, until they have made a public recantation. As for the little bully, Tim Tuck, if he pretends to be choleric, we shall treat him like his friend little Bicky, and hang him upon a peg until he comes to himself. I have told you our design, and let their little Machiavel pre- vent it if he can. ' This is, sir, the long and the short of the matter. I am sensible 1 shall stir up a nest of wasps by it, but let them do their worst. I think that we serve our country by discouraging this little breed, and hindering it from coming into fashion. If the fair sex look upon us with an eye of favour, we shall make some attempts to lengthen out the human figure, and restore it to its ancient procerity. In the mean time we hope old age has not inclined you in favour of our antagonists j I do assume you, sir, we are all your high admirers, though none more than. Sir, yours, &c.' ft^ * Musaeus. N* 109. GUARDIAN. 277 N 109. THURSDAY, JULY 16, 171S. Pugnabat tunicA sed tamen ilia tegi. Ovid. Amor. 1 Eleg. t. 14. Yet still she strove her naked charms to hide. 1 HAVE received many letters from persons of all conditions in reference to my late discourse con- cernino; the tucker. Some of them are filled with reproaches and invectives. A lady, who subscribes herself Teraminta, bids me in a very pert manner mind my own affairs, and not pretend to meddle with their linen ; for that they do not dress for au old fellow, who cannot see them without a pair of spectacles. Another who calls herself Bubnelia vents her passion in scurrilous terms ; an old ninny-ham- mer, a dotard, a nincompoop, is the best language she can afford me. Florella indeed expostulates with nie upon this subject, and only complains that she is forced to return a pair of stays, which were made in the extremity of the fashion, that she might not be thought to encourage peeping. But if on the one side 1 have been used ill (the common fate of all reformers) I have on the other side received great applause and acknowledgments for what I have done, in having put a seasonable slx)p to this unaccountable humour of stripping, that was got among our British ladies. As I would much rather the world should know what is said to my praise, than to my disadvantage, I shall sup- VOL. n. B b 278 GUARDIAN. n" lOQ- press what has been written to me by those who have reviled me on this occasion, and only publish those letters which approve my proceedings. * SIR, ' I AM to give you thanks in the name of half a dozen superannuated beauties, for your pa- per of the 6th instant. We all of us pass for wo- men of fifty, and a man of your sense knows how many additional years are always to be thrown into female computations of this nature. We are very sensible that several young flirts about town had a design to call us out of the fashionable world, and to leave us in the lurch, by some of their late refine- ments. Two or three of them have been heard to say, that they would kill every old woman about town. In order to it, they began to throw oflf their clothes as fast as they could, and have played all those pranks which you have so seasonably taken no- tice of. We were forced to uncover after them, being unwilling to give out so soon, and be regarded as veterans in the beau monde. Some of us have al- ready caught our deaths by it. For my own part, I have not been without a cold ever since this foolish fashion came up. I have followed it thus far with the hazard of my life ; and how much farther I must go, nobody knows, if your paper does not bring us relief. You may assure yourself that all the anti- quated necks about town are very much obliged to you. Whatever fires and flames are concealed in our bosoms (in which perhaps we vie with the young- est of the sex) they are not sufficient to preserve us against the wind and weather. In taking so many old women under your care, you have been a real Guardian to us, and saved the life of many N' 109. GUARDIAN. 279 of your contemporaries. In short, we all of us beg leave to subscribe ourselves. Most venerable Nestor, Your humble servants and sisters.' I am very well pleased with this approbation of my good sisters. I must confess, I have always looked on the tucker to be the * decus et tutamen*,' the ornament and defence, of the female neck. My good old lady, the lady Lizard, condemned this fashion from the beginning, and has observed to me, with some concern, that her sex at the same time they are letting down their stays, are tucking up their petticoats, which grow shorter and shorter every day. The leg discovers itself in proportion with the neck. But I may possibly take another oc- casion of handling this extremity, it being my de- sign to keep a watchful eye over every part of the female sex, and to regulate them from head to foot. In the mean time I shall fill up my paper with a let- ter which comes to me from another of my obliged correspondents. ' Dear Guardee, ' This comes to you from one of those untuckered ladies whom you were so sharp upon on Monday was se'nnight. I think myself mightily beholden to you for the reprehension you then gave us. Vou must know I am a famous olive beauty. But though this complexion makes a very good face vvlien there are a couple of black sparkling eyes set in it, it makes but a very indiflerent neck. Your fair women therefore thought by this fashion The words milled on the larger silver and gold coins of this kiugdoiij. Bb3 280 GUARDIAN. n' 109- to insult the olives and the brunettes. They know- very well, that a neck of ivory does not make so fine a show as one of alabaster. It is for this rea- son, Mr. Ironside, that they are so liberal in their discoveries. We know very well, that a woman of the whitest neck in the world, is to you no more than a woman of snow; but Ovid, in Mr. Duke's transla- tion of him, seems to look upon it with another eye, when he talks of Corinna, and mentions " her heaving breast, Courting the hand, and suing to be prest." ' Women of my complexion ought to be more modest, especially since our faces debar us from ail artificial whitenings. Could you examine many of these ladies, who present you with such beautiful snowy chests, you would find they are not all of a piece. Good father Nestor, do not let us alone until you have shortened our necks, and reduced them to their ancient standard. I am. Your most obliged humble servant, Olivia,' I shall have a just regard to Olivia's remonstrance, though at the same time I cannot but observe that her modesty seems to be intirely the result of her romplexion. ^ n" no. GUARDIAN. 281 N 110. FRIDAY, JULY 17, 1713. Non ego paucis Offender maculis, quas aut incuriafudit Aut humana parum cavit naturu HoR.ArsPoet.35i. I will not quarrel with a slight mistake, Such as our nature's fruilty may excuse. Roscommon. 1 HE candour which Horace shews in the motto of my paper, is that which distinjjuishes a critic from a caviller. He declares that he is not offended with those little faults in a poetical composition, which ^ay be imputed to inadvertency, or to the imperfec- tion of human nature. The truth of it is, there can be no more a perfect work in the world, than a per- fect man. To say of a celebrated piece that there are faults in it, is in eifect to say no more, than that the author of it was a man. For this reason I consider every critic that attacks an author in high reputation, as the slave in the Roman triumph, who was to call out to the conqueror. ' Remember, sir, that you are a man.' I speak this in relation to the following letter, which criticises the works of a great poet, whose very faults have more beauty in them than the most elaborate compositions of many more correct writers. The remarlcs are very curious and just, and introduced by a compliment to the work of an author, who I am sure would not care for being B b 3 282 GUARDIAN, n' 11(). praised at the expense of another's reputation. I must therefore desire my correspondent to excuse me, if I do not pubhsh either the preface or conclusion of his letter, but only the critical part of it. ' SIR, ******* * * * ***** ****** * * * ****** ' Our tragedy writers have been notori- ously defective in giving proper sentiments lb the persons they introduce. Nothing is more common than to hear an heathen talking of angels and devils, the joys of heaven, and the pains of hell, according to the christian system. Lee's Alexander discovers himself to be a Cartesian in the first page of CEdi- pus : " The sun's sick too, Shortly he'll be an earth As Dryden's Cleomenes is acquainted with the Co- pernican hypothesis two thousand years before its invention : " I am pleas'd with my own work ; Jove was not mor With infant nature, when his spacious hand Had rounded this huge ball of earth and seas, To give it the first push, and see it roll Along the vast abyss " ' I have now Mr. Dryden's Don Sebastian be- fore me, in which I find frequent allusions to an- cient history, and the old mythology of the hea- then. It is not very natural to suppose a king of Portugal would be borrowing thoughts out of Ovid's Metamorphoses when he talk'd even to those of his own court ; but to allude to these Roman fables, when he talks to an emperor of Barbary, seem?* N* 110. aUARDIAN. 283 very extraordinary. But observe how be defies him out of the classics, in the following lines : " Why didst not thou engage me man to man, And try the virtue of tliat Gorgon face To stare me into statue ?" * Almeyda at the same time is more book learned than Don Sebastian. She plays an hydra upon the emperor that is full as good as the Gorgon : " O that I had the fruitful heads of hydra. That one might bourgeon where another fell! Still would I give thee work, still, stilly thou tyrant, And hiss thee with the last -" * She afterwards, in allusion to Hercules, bids him " lay down the lion's skin, and take the distaff;" and in the following speech utters her passion still more learnedly : " No, were we join'd, even tho' it were in death, Our bodies burning in one funeral pile, The prodigy of Thebes wou'd be renew'd, And my divided flame should break from thine." ' The emperor of Barbary shews himself acquaint- ed with the Roman poets as well as either of his pri- soners, and answers the foregoing speech in the same classic strain : * Serpent, I will engender poison with thee ; Our offspring, like the seed of dragons' teeth, Shall issue arm'd, and fight themselves to deuth." ^ Ovid seems to have been Muley Molock's favorite author, witness the lines that follow : " She still inexorable, still imperious And loud, as if like Bacchus born in thunder." 284 GUARDIAN. N** 110. ' I shall conclude my remarks on his part with that poetical complaint of his being in love, and leave my reader to consider how prettily it would sound in the mouth of an emperor of Morocco : " The god of love once more has shot his fires Into my soul, and my whole heart receives him." ' Muley Zeydan is as ingenious a man as his brother Muley Molock; as where he hints at the story of Castor and Pollux : " May we ne'er meet ! For like the twins of Leda, when I mount. He gallops down the skies " * As for the mufti, we will suppose that he was bred up a scholar, and not only versed in the law of Mahomet, but acquainted with all kinds of polite learning. For this reason he is not at all surprised when Dorax calls him a Phaeton in one place, and in another tells him he is like Archimedes. ' The mufti afterwards mentions Ximenes, Albor- noz, and cardinal Wolsey, by name. The poet seems to think he may make every person in his play know as much as himself, and talk as well as he could have done on the same occasion. At least I believe every reader will agree with me, that the above mentioned sentiments, to which I might have added several others, would have been better suited to the court of Augnstus, than that of Muley Molock. I grant they are beautiful in themselves, and much more so in that noble language, which was peculiar to this great poet. I only ob- serve that they are improper for the persons who make use of them. Dryden is indeed generally wrong in his sentiments. Let any one read the dialogue between Octavia and Cleopatra, and he will be amaz- N 110. GUARDIAN. 285 ed to hear a Roman lady's mouth filled with such obscene raillery. If the virtuous Octavia departs from her character, the loose Dolabella is no less inconsistent with himself, when all of a sudden he drops the pagan, and talks in the sentiments of re- vealed religion : " Heaven has but Our sorrow for onr sins, and then deligiits To pardon erring man. Sweet mercy seemi Its darling attribute, which limits justice; As if there were degrees in infinite: And infinite would rather want perfection 4 Tlian punish to extent " * I might shew several faults of the same nature in the celebrated Aurenge Zebe. The impropriety of thoughts in the speeches of the great mogul and his empress has been generally censured. Take the sen- timents out of the shining dress of words, and Ihey would be too coarse for a scene in Billingsgate. **)( ********** ** ***x* * * * ****** I am, &c. ^ 286 GUARDIAN. N"111. NMll. SATURDAY, JUL\' 18, 1713. Hie aliquis de gcnte hircos& Centurionum Dicat : quod satis est, sapio tnihi ; non ego euro Esse quod Arcesilas, arumnosique Solones. Pers. Sat. iii. 77. But, here, some captain of the land or fleet, Stout of his hands, bnt of a soldier's wit, Criei!, I have sense, to serve my turn, in store ; And he's a rascal who pretends to more : Damme whate'er those book-learned blockheads say, Solon's the veriest fool in all the play. Dryuen, 1 AM very much concerned when I see young gen- tlemen of fortune and quahty so wholly set upon pleasures and diversions, that they neglect all those improvements in wisdom and knowledge which may make them easy to themselves, and useful to the world. The greatest part of our British youth lose their figure, and grow out of fashion by that time they are five and twenty. As soon as the natural gaiety and amiableness of the young man wears ofl^ they have nothing left to rec :)mmend them, but lie by the rest of their lives among the lumber and re- fuse of the species. It sometimes happens indeed, that for want of applying themselves in due time to the pursuits of knowledge, they take up a book in their declining years, and grow very hopeful scho- lars by that time they are threescore, I mivst there- fore earnestly press my readers, who are in the n" 111. GUARDIAN. S87 flower of their youth, to labour at those accom- phshments which may set ofF their persons when their bloom is gone, and to lay in timely provisions for manhood and old age. In short, I would advise the youth of fifteen to be dressing up every day the man of fifty, or to consider how to make himself venerable at threescore. Young men, who are naturally ambitious, would do well to observe how the greatest men of anti- quity made it their ambition, to excel all their contemporaries in knowledge. Julius Cassar and Alexander, the most celebrated instances of human greatness, took a particular care to distinguish themselves by their skill in the arts and sciences. We have still extant several remains of the former, which justify the character given of him by the learned men of his own age. As for the latter, it is a known saying of his, * that he was more obliged to Aristotle, who had instructed him, than to Philip who had given him life and empire.' There is a letter of his recorded by Plutarch and Aulus Gel- lius, which he wrote to Aristotle upon hearing that he had published those lectures he had given him ill private. This letter was written in the follow- ing words, at a time when he was in the height of his Persian conquests : ' ALEXANDER TO ARISTOTLE, GREETING, ' You have not done well to publish your books of Select Knowledge ; for what is there now .in which I can surpass others, if those things which I have been instructed in are communicated to every body ? For my own part, I declare to you, I would rather excel others in knowledge than power. Farewell.' 288 GUARDIAN. N" 111. We see by this letter, that the love of conquest was but the second ambition in Alexander's soul. Knowledge is indeed that which, next to virtue, truly and essentially raises one man above another. It fi- nishes one half of the human soul. It makes being pleasant to us, fills the mind with entertaining views, and administers to it a perpetual series of gratifica- tions. It gives ease to solitude, and gracefulness to retirement. It fills a public station with suitable abi- lities, and adds a lustre to those who are in possession of them. Learning, by which I mean all useful knowledge, whether speculative or practical, is in popular and mixt governments the natural source of wealth and honour. If we look into most of the reigns from the conquest, we shall find that the favourites of each reign have been those who have raised them- selves. The greatest men are generally the growth of that particular age in which they flouiish. A su- perior capacity for business, and a more extensive knowledge, are the steps by which a new man often mounts to favour, and outshines the rest of his con- temporaries. But when men are actually born to titles, it is almost impossible that they should fail of receiving an additional greatness, if they take care to accomplish themselves for it. The story of Soli-mon's choice does not only in- struct us in that point of history, but furnishes out a very fine moral to us, namely, that he who applies his heart to wisdom, does at the same time take the most proper method of gaining long life, riches, and reputation, which are very often not only the rewards but the eft'ects of wisdom. As it is very suitable to my pres^ffnt subject, J shall first of all quote this passage in the words of sacred writ, and afterwards mention an allegory. N* 111. GUARDIAN. 289 in which this whole passage is represented by a famous French poet : not questioning but it will be very- pleasing to such of my readers as have a taste of fine writing. ' In Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream by night : and God said, Ask what I shall give thee. And Solomon said. Thou hast shewed unto thy servant David my father great mercy, ac- cording as he walked before thee in truth and in righteousness, and in uprightness of heart with thee, and thou hast kept for him this great kindness, that thou hast given him a son to sit on his throne, as it is at this day. And now, O Lord my God, thou hast made thy servant king, instead of David my father : and I am but a little child ; I know not how to go out or come in. Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart to judge thy people, that 1 may discern between good and bad : for who is able to judge this thy so great a people ? And the speech pleaded the Lord, that Solomon had asked this thing. And God said unto him. Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life, neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine enemies, but hast asked for thyself understanding to discern judgment : Be- hold I have done according to thy words : Lo, I have given thee a wise and understanding heart, so that there was none like thee before thee, neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee. And I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches and honour, so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee ail thy days. And if thou wilt walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my commandments, as thy father David did walk, then I will lengthen thy days. And Solomon awoke, and behold it was a dream. ' VOL. II. c c 290 GUARDIAN. N*112. The French poet has shadowed this story in an allegory, of which he seems to have taken the hint from the fable of the three goddesses appearing to Paris, or rather from the vision of Hercules, re- corded by Xenophon, where Pleasure and Virtue are represented as real persons making their court to the hero with all their several charms and allurements. Health, Wealth, Victory, and Honour, are introduced successively in their proper emblems and characters, each of them spreading her temptations, and recom- mending herself to the young monarch's choice. Wisdom enters the last, and so captivates him with her appearance, that he gives himself up to her. Upon which she informs him, that those who appeared before her were nothing else but her equipage: and that since he had placed his heart upon Wisdom ; Health, Wealth, Victory, and Honour, should al- ways wait en her as her handmaids. ^ N112. MONDAY, JULY 20, 1713. udam Spcrnit httmumfugiente penn&. Hor. 2 Od. iii. 25. Scorns the base earth, and crowd below ; And with a soaring wing still mounts on high. Creech. Ihe philosophers of king Charles his reign were busy in finding out the art of flying. The famous bishop Wilkins was so confident of success in it. n" 11. GUAUDIAN. 91 that he says he does not que^ion but in the next age it will be as usual to hear a man call for his wings when he is going a journey, as it is now to call for his boots. The humour so prevailed among the virtiiosos of this reign, that they were actually making parties to go up to the moon together, and were more put to it in their thoughts how to meet with accommodations by the way, than how to get thither. Every one knows the story of the great lady,* who at the same time was building castles in the air for their reception. f 1 always leave such trite quolations to my reader's private recollection. For which reason also I shall forbear extracting out of authors several instances of particular persons who have arrived at some perfection in this art, and ex- hibited specimens of it before multitudes of beholders. Instead of this I shall present my reader with the fol- lowing letter from an artist, who is now taken up with this invention, and conceals his true name under that of Dsedalus. ' Mr. Ironside, ' Knowing that you are a great en- courager of ingenuity, I think fit to acquaint you, that I have made a considerable progress in the art of flying. I flutter about my room two or three hours in a morning, and when my wings are on, can go above a hundred yards at a hop, step, and jump. I can fly already as well as a turkey- cock, and improve every day. If I proceed as I Margaret, duchess of Newcastle. t The duchess of Newcastle objected to bishop Wilkins, tlie wai.t of baiting-places in the way to his New World ; the bishop expressed his surprise that this objection should be made by a lady who has been all her life employed in buildiag castles in the air. cc 2 292 UARDIAN. N* 11. have besjun, I intend to give the world a proof of my proficiency in this art. Upon the next pubUc thanksgivinij day it is my design to sit astride the dragon upon Bow steeple, from whence, after the first discharge of the Tower guns, I intend to mount into the air, fly over Fleet-street, and pitch upon the May-pole in the Strand. From thence, by a gradual descent, 1 shall make the best of my way for St. James's- park, and light upon the ground near Rosamond's pond. This I doubt not will con- vince the world that I am no pretender; but before I set out, I shall desire to have a patent for mak- ing of wings, and that none shall presume to fly, under pain of death, with wings of any other man's making, I intend to work for the court myself, and will have journeymen under me to furnish the rest of the nation. I likewise desire, that I may have the sole teaching of persons of quality, in which 1 shall spare neither time nor pains until I have made them as expert as myself I will fly with the women upon my back for the first fort- night. I shall appear at the next masquerade dressed up in my feathers and plumage like an Indian prince, that the quality may see how pretty they will look in their travelling habits. You know, sir, there is an unaccountable prejudice to projec- tors of all kinds, for which reason, when I talk of practising to fly, silly people think me an owl for my pains; but, sir, you know better things. I need not enumerate to you the benefits which will accrue to the public from this invention ; as how the roads of England will be saved when we travel through these new highways, and how all family accounts will be lessened in the article of coaches and horses. I need not mention post and packet-boats, with many other conveniences of life, which will be supplied N* 112. GUARDIAN. 29S this way. In short, sir, when mankind are in pos- session of this art, they will be able to do more busi- ness in threescore and ten years, than they could do in a thousand by the methods now in use. I there- fore recommend myself and art to your patronage, and am your most humble servant, D^DALUS.* I have fully considered the project of these our modern Daedalists, and am resolved so far to dis- courage it, as to prevent any person flying in my time. It would fill the world with innumerable im- moralities, and give such occasions for intrigues as people cannot meet with who have nothing but legs to carry them. You should have a couj)le of lovers make a midnight assignation upon the top of the monument, and see the cupola of St. Paul's covered with both sexes like the outside of a pigeon house. Nothing would be more frequent than to see a beau flying in at a garret window, or a gallant giving chase to his mistress, like a hawk after a lark. There would be no walking in a shady wood without spring- ing a covey of toasts. The poor husband could not dream what was doing over his head. If he were jealous indeed he might clip his wife's wings, but would this avail when there were flocks of whore- masters perpetually hovering over his house .-' What concern would the father of a family be in all the time his daughter was upon the wing ? Every heiress must have an old woman flying at her heels. In short, the whole air would be full^of this kind of gibier,* as^the French call it. 1 do allow, with my correspon- dent, that there would be much more business done than there is at present. However, should he apply Gibier signifies no more than flying-game c c 3 (294 GUARDIAN. N' 113. for such a patent as he speaks of, I question not but there would be more petitions out of the city against it, than ever yet appeared against any other mono- poly whatsoever. Every tradesman that cannot keep his wife a coach, could keep her a pair of wings, and there is no doubt but she would be every morning and evening taking the air with them. I have here only considered the ill consequences of this invention in the influence it would have on love- affairs. I have many more objections to make on other accounts ; but these I shall defer publishing until I see my friend astride the dragon. ^ NM13. TUESDAY, JULY 21, 1713. Amphora cctpit Institui; currente rot&, eur vrceus eocitl HoR. Ars Poet. ver. 21. When you beein with so much pomp and show, Why is the end so little and so low? Roscommon. 1 Last night received a letter from an honest citi- zen, who it seems is in his honey- moon. It is written by a plain man on a plain subject, but has an air of good sense and natural honesty in it, which may perhaps please the public as much as myself. n" 113. GUARDIAN. 295 I shall not therefore scruple the giving it a place in my paper, which is designed for common use, and for the benefit of the poor as well as rich. Cheapside, July IS. Good Mr. Ironside, ' I HAVE lately married a very pretty body, who being, something younger and richer than myself, I was advised to go a wooing to her in a finer suit of clothes than ever I wore in mj life ; for I love to dress plain, and suitable to a man of my rank. However, I gained her heart by it. Upon the wedding day I put myself, according to custom, in another suit, fire-new, with silver buttons to it. I am so out of countenance among my neighbours upon being so fine, that I heartily wish my clothes well worn out. I fancy every body observes me as I walk the street, and long to be in my own plain geer again. Besides forsooth, they have put me in a silk night-gown and a gaudy fool's cap, and make me now and then stand in the win- dow with it. I am ashamed to be dandled thus, and cannot look in the glass without blushing to see myself turned into such a pretty little master. They tell me I must appear in my wedding-suit for the first month at least ; after which I am resolved to come again to my every day's clothes, for at present every day is Sunday with me. Now in my mind, Mr. Ironside, this is the wrongest way of proceeding in the world. When a man's person is new and unaccustomed to a young body, he doe* not want any thing else to set him oft". The novelty of the lover has more charms than a wedding-suit. I should think therefore, that a man should keep his finery for the latter seasons of marriage, and aot fi96 GUARDIAN. N* 113. begin to dress until the honey-moon is over. I have observed at a lord mayor's feast that the sweet- meats do not make their appearance until people are cloyed with beef and mutton, and begin to lose their stomachs. But instead of this, we serve up delicacies to our guests, when their appetites are keen, and coarse diet when their bellies are full. As bad as I hate my silver-buttoned coat and silk night-gown, I am afraid of leaving them off, not knowing whether my wife would not repent of her marriage when she sees what a plain man she has to her husband. Pray, Mr. Ironside, write something to prepare her for it, and let me know whether you think she can ever love me ni a hair button. I am. Sec. ' P. S. I forgot to tell you of my white gloves, which they say too, I must wear all the first month/ My correspondent's observations are very just, and may be useful in low life ; but to turn them to the advantage of people in higher stations, I shall raise the moral, and observe something parallel to the wooing and wedding-suit, in the behaviour of persons of figure. After long experience in the world, and reflections upon mankind, I find one particular occasion of unhappy marriages, which, though very common, is not very much attended to. What I mean is this. Every man in the time of courtship, and in the first entrance of marriage, puts on a behaviour like my correspondent's holiday suit, which is to last no longer than until he is settled in the possession of his mistress. He resigns his inclinations and understanding to her humour and opinion. He neither loves nor hates, nor talks nor thinks, in contradiction to her. He is controlled by a nod, mortified by a frown, and tran- n" 113. GUARDIAN. 297 sported by a smile. The poor young lady falls in love with this supple creature, and expects of him the same behaviour for life. In a little time she finds that he has a will of his own, that he pretends to dislike what she approves, and that instead of treating her like a goddess, he uses her like a woman. What still makes the misfortune worse, we find the most abject flatterers degenerate into the greatest tyrants. This naturally fills the spouse with sullenness and discontent, spleen and vapour, which, with a little discreet management, make a very comfortable marriage. I very much approve of my friend Tom Truelove in this particular. Tom made love to a woman of sense> and always treated her as such during the whole time of court- ship. His natural temper and good breeding hin- dered him from doing any thing disagreeable, as his sincerity and frankness of behaviour made him con- verse with her, before marriage, in the same manner he intended to continue to do afterwards. Tom would often tell her, * Madam, you see what a sort of man I am. If you will take me with all my faults about me, I promise to mend rather than grow worse.' I remember Tom was once hinting his dislike of some little trifle, his mistress had said or done. Upon which she asked him, how he would talk to her after marriage, if he talked at this rate before ? ' No, madam,' says Tom, ' I mention this now because you are at your own disposal; were you at mine I should be too generous to do it.* In short, Tom succeeded, and has ever since beerj better than his word. The lady has been disap- pointed on the right side, and has found nothing more disagreeable in the husband than she disco-^ vcred in the lover. {f:^ 298 GUARDIAN. . N 114. N** 114. WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 1713. Alveos accipite, et ceris opus infundite : Fuci recusant, apibus conditio placet. Ph^dr. 3 Fab. xiii. 9. Take the hives, and empty your work into the combs; The drones refuse, the bees accept the proposal. 1 THINK myself obliored to acquaint the public that the lion's head, of which I advertised them about a fortnight atj^o, is now erected at Button's cofFee-house in Russell-street, Covent-garden, where it opens its mouth at all hours for the reception of such intellio'ence as shall be thrown into it. It is reckoned an excellent piece of workmanship, and was desiuned by a great hand in imitation of the antique ^Egyptian lion, the face of it being com- pounded out of that of a lion and a wizard. The features are strong and well furrowed. The whis- kers are admired by all that have seen them. It is planted on the western side of the coffee -house, holding its paws urider the chin upon a box, which contains every thm.: that he swallows. He is in- deed a proper emblem of knowledge and action, being all head and paws. I need not acquaint my readers, that my lion, like a moth, or book-worm, feeds upon nothing but paper, and shall only beg of them to diet him with wholesome and substan- tial food. I must therefore desire that they will not gorge him either with nonsi nse or obscenity; and must likewise insist, that his mouth be not de- H" 114. GUARDIAN. 899 filed with scandal, for I would not make use of him to revile the human species, and satyrize those who are his betters. 1 shall not suffer him to worry any man's reputation, nor indeed fall on any per- son whatsoever, such only excepted as disgrace the name of this generous animal, and under the title of lions, conl ive the rum uf their fellow-subjects. I must desire likewise, that intriguers will not make a pimp of my lion, and by his means convey their thoughts to one another. Those who are read in the history of the popes, observe that the Leos have been the best, and the Innocents the worst of that species, and 1 hope that I shall not be thought to derogate from my lion's character, by repre- senting him as such a peaceable good-natured well- desigimig beast. I intend to publish once every week, ' the roar- ings of the lion,' and hope to make him roar so loud as to be heard all over the British nation. If my correspondents will do their parts in prompting him, and supplying him with suitable provision, I question not but the lion's head will be reckoned the best head in England. There is a notion generally received in the world, that a lion is a dangerous creature to all women wlio are not virgins: which may have given occa- sion to a foolish report, that my lion's jaws are so contrived, as to snap the hands of any of the female sex, who are not thus qualified to approach it with safety, I shall not spend much time in ex- posing the falsity of this report, which I believe will hot weigh any thing with women of sense. I shall only say, that there is not one of the sex in all the neighbourhood of Covent-garden, who may not put her hand in his mouth with the same se- curity as if she were a vestal. However^ that the :toO GtARplAN. N" J 14. ladies may not be deterred from corresponding with me by this method, I must acquaint them, that the coffee-man has a little daughter of about four years old who has been virtuously educated, and will lend her hand upon this occasion to any lady that shall desire it of her. In the mean time I must further acquaint my fair readers, that I have thoughts of making a further provision for them at my ingenious friend Mr. Mot- teux's, or at Corticelli's, or some other place fre- quented by the wits and beauties of the sex. As I have here a lion's head for the men, I shall there erect an unicorn's head for the ladies, and will so contrive it, that they may put in their intelligence at the top of the horn, which shall convey it into a little receptacle at the bottom prepared for that purpose. Out of these two magazines I shall sup- ply the town from time to time with what may tend to their edification, and at the same time carry on an epistolary correspondence between the two heads, not a little beneficial both to the public and to myself. As both these monsters will be very insatiable, and devour great quantities of paper, there will be no small use redound from them to that manufacture in particular. The following letter having been left with the keeper of the lion, with a request from the writer that it may be the first morsel which is put into his mouth, I shall communicate it to the public as it came to my hand, without examining whether it be proper nourishment, as I intend to do for the iiiture. ' Mr. Guakdtan, * Your predecessor, the Spectator, endeavoured, but in vain, to improve the charm* N* 114. GUARDIAN. '30\ of the fair sex, by exposing their dress whenever it launched into extremities. Among the rest the great petticoat came under his consideration, but in contradiction to whatever he has said, they still resolutely persist in this fashion. The form of their bottom is not, I confess, altogether the same ; for whereas before it was of an orbicular make, they now look as if they were pressed, so that they seem to deny access to any part but the middle. Many are the inconveniences that accrue to her majesty's loving subjects from the said petticoats, as hurting men's shins, sweeping down the wares of industrious females in the streets, &c. T saw a young lady fall down tlie other day ; and believe me, sir, she very much resembled an overturned bell, without a clapper. Many other disasters 1 could tell you of, that befal themselves, as well as others, by means of this unwieldy garment. I wish, Mr. Guardian, you would join with me in shewing your dislike of such a monstrous fashion, and I hope when the ladies see it is the opinion of two of the wisest men in England, they will be convinced of their folly. I am. Sir, Your daily reader and admirer, Tom Plain.* i;