Cap 35. v. 1, 7.
return
Footnote 8:
Cap. 41. v. 19. and Cap. 55. v. 13.
return
Footnote 9:
Cap. 11. v. 6, 7, 8.
return
Footnote 10:
Cap. 60. v. 1.
return
Footnote 11:
Cap. 60. v. 4.
return
Footnote 12:
Cap. 60. v. 3.
return
Footnote 13:
Cap. 60. v. 6.
return
Footnote 14:
Cap. 60. v. 19, 20.
return
Footnote 15:
Cap. 51. v. 6. and Cap. 64. v. 10.
return
ContentsContents, p.6
Scire tuum nihil est nisi te scire hoc sciat alter.Pers.
I have often wondered at that ill-natur'd Position which has been sometimes maintained in the Schools,
and
is comprizd in an old
Latin
Verse, namely, that
A Man's Knowledge is worth nothing, if he communicates what he knows to any one besides.
1
There is certainly no more sensible Pleasure to a good-natur'd Man, than if he can by any means gratify or inform the Mind of another. I might add, that this Virtue naturally carries its own reward along with it, since it is almost impossible it should be exercised without the Improvement of the Person who practices it. The reading of Books, and the daily Occurrences of Life, are continually furnishing us with Matter for Thought and Reflection. It is extremely natural for us to desire to see such our Thoughts put into the Dress of Words, without which indeed we can scarce have a clear and distinct Idea of them our selves: When they are thus clothed in Expressions, nothing so truly shews us whether they are just or false, as those Effects which they produce in the Minds of others.
I am apt to flatter my self, that in the Course of these my Speculations, I have treated of several Subjects, and laid down many such Rules for the Conduct of a Man's Life, which my Readers were either wholly ignorant of before, or which at least those few who were acquainted with them, looked upon as so many Secrets they have found out for the Conduct of themselves, but were resolved never to have made publick.
I am the more confirmed in this Opinion from my having received several Letters, wherein I am censur'd for having prostituted Learning to the Embraces of the Vulgar, and made her, as one of my Correspondents phrases it, a common Strumpet: I am charged by another with laying open the Arcana, or Secrets of Prudence, to the Eyes of every Reader. The narrow Spirit which appears in the Letters of these my Correspondents is the less surprizing, as it has shewn itself in all Ages: There is
still
extant an Epistle written by
Alexander the Great
to his Tutor
Aristotle
, upon that Philosopher's publishing some part of his Writings; in which the Prince complains of his having made known to all the World, those Secrets in Learning which he had before communicated to him in private Lectures; concluding, That he had rather excel the rest of Mankind in Knowledge than in Power
2
.
Luisa de Padilla
, a
Lady
of great Learning, and Countess of
Aranda
, was in like manner angry with the famous
Gratian
3
, upon his publishing his
Treatise of the Discrete
; wherein she fancied that he had laid open those Maxims to common Readers, which ought only to have been reserved for the Knowledge of the Great.
These Objections are thought by many of so much weight, that they often defend the above-mentiond Authors, by affirming they have affected such an Obscurity in their Style and Manner of Writing, that tho every one may read their Works, there will be but very few who can comprehend their Meaning.
Persius
, the
Latin
Satirist, affected Obscurity for another Reason; with which however Mr.
Cowley
is so offended, that writing to one of his Friends,
You
, says he,
tell me, that you do not know whether
Persius
be a good Poet or no, because you cannot understand him; for which very Reason I affirm that he is not so.
However, this Art of writing unintelligibly has been very much improved, and follow'd by several of the Moderns, who observing the general Inclination of Mankind to dive into a Secret, and the Reputation many have acquired by concealing their Meaning under obscure Terms and Phrases, resolve, that they may be still more abstruse, to write without any Meaning at all. This Art, as it is at present practised by many eminent Authors, consists in throwing so many Words at a venture into different Periods, and leaving the curious Reader to find out the Meaning of them.
The
Egyptians
, who made use of
Hieroglyphicks
to signify several things, expressed a Man who confined his Knowledge and Discoveries altogether within himself, by the Figure of a Dark-Lanthorn closed on all sides, which, tho' it was illuminated within, afforded no manner of Light or Advantage to such as stood by it. For my own part, as I shall from time to time communicate to the Publick whatever Discoveries I happen to make, I should much rather be compared to an ordinary Lamp, which consumes and wastes it self for the benefit of every Passenger.
I shall conclude this Paper with the Story of
Rosicrucius's Sepulchre.
I suppose I
need
not inform my Readers that this Man was the Founder of the
Rosicrusian
Sect, and that his Disciples still pretend to new Discoveries, which they are never to communicate to the rest of Mankind
4
.
A certain Person having occasion to dig somewhat deep in the Ground where this Philosopher lay inter'd, met with a small Door having a Wall on each side of it. His Curiosity, and the Hopes of finding some hidden Treasure, soon prompted him to force open the Door. He was immediately surpriz'd by a sudden Blaze of Light, and discover'd a very fair Vault: At the upper end of it was a Statue of a Man in Armour sitting by a Table, and leaning on his Left Arm. He held a Truncheon in his right Hand, and had a Lamp burning before him. The Man had no sooner set one Foot within the Vault, than the Statue erecting it self from its leaning Posture, stood bolt upright; and upon the Fellow's advancing another Step, lifted up the Truncheon in his Right Hand. The Man still ventur'd a third Step, when the Statue with a furious Blow broke the Lamp into a thousand Pieces, and left his Guest in a sudden Darkness.
Upon the Report of this Adventure, the Country People soon came with Lights to the Sepulchre, and discovered that the Statue, which was made of Brass, was nothing more than a Piece of Clock-work; that the Floor of the Vault was all loose, and underlaid with several Springs, which, upon any Man's entering, naturally produced that which had happend.
Rosicrucius
, says his Disciples, made use of this Method, to shew the World that he had re-invented the ever-burning Lamps of the Ancients, tho' he was resolvd no one should reap any Advantage from the Discovery.
X.
Footnote 1:
Nil proprium ducas quod mutarier potest.
return to footnote mark
Footnote 2:
Aulus Gellius.
Noct. Att.
, Bk xx., ch. 5.
return
Footnote 3:
Baltazar Grecian's
Discreto
has been mentioned before in the
Spectator
, being well-known in England through a French translation. See note on p. 303, ante [
Footnote 1
of
No. 293
]. Gracian, in Spain, became especially popular as a foremost representative of his time in transferring the humour for conceits—
cultismo
, as it was called—from verse to prose. He began in 1630 with a prose tract, the Hero, laboured in short ingenious sentences, which went through six editions. He wrote also an
Art of Poetry
after the new style. His chief work was the
Criticon
, an allegory of the Spring, Autumn, and Winter of life. The
Discreto
was one of his minor works. All that he wrote was published, not by himself, but by a friend, and in the name of his brother Lorenzo, who was not an ecclesiastic.
return
cross-reference: return to Footnote 1 of No. 409
Footnote 4:
Rosicrucius had been made fashionable by the Abbé de Villars who was assassinated in 1675. His
Comte de Gabalis
was a popular little book in the
Spectators
time. I suppose I need not inform my readers that there never was a Rosicrucius or a Rosicrucian sect. The Rosicrucian pamphlets which appeared in Germany at the beginning of the 17th century, dating from the Discovery of the
Brotherhood of the Honourable Order of the Rosy Cross
, a pamphlet published in 1610, by a Lutheran clergyman, Valentine Andreä, were part of a hoax designed perhaps originally as means of establishing a sort of charitable masonic society of social reformers. Missing that aim, the Rosicrucian story lived to be adorned by superstitious fancy, with ideas of mystery and magic, which in the
Comte de Gabalis
were methodized into a consistent romance. It was from this romance that Pope got what he called the Rosicrucian machinery of his
Rape of the Lock
. The Abbé de Villars, professing to give very full particulars, had told how the Rosicrucians assigned sylphs to the air, gnomes to the earth, nymphs to the water, salamanders to the fire.
return
ContentsContents, p.6
Rivalem patienter habe—Ovid.Thursday, May 8, 1712.Sir,The Character you have in the World of being the Lady's Philosopher, and the pretty Advice I have seen you give to others in your Papers, make me address my self to you in this abrupt Manner, and to desire your Opinion what in this Age a Woman may call a Lover. I have lately had a Gentleman that I thought made Pretensions to me, insomuch that most of my Friends took Notice of it and thought we were really married; which I did not take much Pains to undeceive them, and especially a young Gentlewoman of my particular Acquaintance which was then in the Country. She coming to Town, and seeing our Intimacy so great, she gave her self the Liberty of taking me to task concerning it: I ingenuously told her we were not married, but I did not know what might the Event. She soon got acquainted with the Gentleman, and was pleased to take upon her to examine him about it. Now whether a new Face had made a greater Conquest than the old, I'll leave you to judge: But I am informd that he utterly deny'd all Pretensions to Courtship, but withal profess'd a sincere Friendship for me; but whether Marriages are propos'd by way of Friendship or not, is what I desire to know, and what I may really call a Lover. There are so many who talk in a Language fit only for that Character, and yet guard themselves against speaking in direct Terms to the Point, that it is impossible to distinguish between Courtship and Conversation. I hope you will do me Justice both upon my Lover and my Friend, if they provoke me further: In the mean time I carry it with so equal a Behaviour, that the Nymph and the Swain too are mighty at a loss; each believes I, who know them both well, think my self revenged in their Love to one another, which creates an irreconcileable Jealousy. If all comes right again, you shall hear further from,Sir,Your most obedient Servant,Mirtilla.April 28, 1712.Mr.Spectator,Your Observations on Persons that have behaved themselves irreverently at Church, I doubt not have had a good Effect on some that have read them: But there is another Fault which has hitherto escaped your Notice, I mean of such Persons as are very zealous and punctual to perform an Ejaculation that is only preparatory to the Service of the Church, and yet neglect to join in the Service it self. There is an Instance of this in a Friend ofWill. Honeycomb's, who sits opposite to me: He seldom comes in till the Prayers are about half over, and when he has enter'd his Seat (instead of joining with the Congregation) he devoutly holds his Hat before his Face for three or four Moments, then bows to all his Acquaintance, sits down, takes a Pinch of Snuff, (if it be Evening Service perhaps a Nap) and spends the remaining Time in surveying the Congregation. Now, Sir, what I would desire, is, that you will animadvert a little on this Gentleman's Practice. In my Opinion, this Gentleman's Devotion, Cap-in-Hand, is only a Compliance to the Custom of the Place, and goes no further than a little ecclesiastical Good-Breeding. If you will not pretend to tell us the Motives that bring such Triflers to solemn Assemblies, yet let me desire that you will give this Letter a Place in your Paper, and I shall remain,Sir,Your obliged humble Servant,J. S.May the 5th.Mr.Spectator,The Conversation at a Club, of which I am a Member, last Night falling upon Vanity and the Desire of being admired, put me in mind of relating how agreeably I was entertained at my own Door last Thursday by a clean fresh-colour'd Girl, under the most elegant and the best furnished Milk-Pail I had ever observed. I was glad of such an Opportunity of seeing the Behaviour of a Coquet in low Life, and how she received the extraordinary Notice that was taken of her; which I found had affected every Muscle of her Face in the same manner as it does the Feature of a first-rate Toast at a Play, or in an Assembly. This Hint of mine made the Discourse turn upon the Sense of Pleasure; which ended in a general Resolution, that the Milk-Maid enjoys her Vanity as exquisitely as the Woman of Quality. I think it would not be an improper Subject for you to examine this Frailty, and trace it to all Conditions of Life; which is recommended to you as an Occasion of obliging many of your Readers, among the rest,Your most humble Servant,T. B.Sir,Coming last Week into a Coffee-house not far from the Exchange with my Basket under my Arm, aJewof considerable Note, as I am informed, takes half a Dozen Oranges of me, and at the same time slides a Guinea into my Hand; I made him a Curtsy, and went my Way: He follow'd me, and finding I was going about my Business, he came up with me, and told me plainly, that he gave me the Guinea with no other Intent but to purchase my Person for an Hour. Did you so, Sir? says I: You gave it me then to make me be wicked, I'll keep it to make me honest. However, not to be in the least ungrateful, I promise you Ill lay it out in a couple of Rings, and wear them for your Sake. I am so just, Sir, besides, as to give every Body that asks how I came by my Rings this Account of my Benefactor; but to save me the Trouble of telling my Tale over and over again, I humbly beg the favour of you so to tell it once for all, and you will extremely oblige,Your humble Servant,Betty Lemon.May 12, 1712.St. Bride's, May 15, 1712.Sir,'Tis a great deal of Pleasure to me, and I dare say will be no less Satisfaction to you, that I have an Opportunity of informing you, that the Gentlemen and others of the Parish ofSt. Bride's, have raised a Charity-School of fifty Girls, as before of fifty Boys. You were so kind to recommend the Boys to the charitable World, and the other Sex hope you will do them the same Favour in Friday's Spectator for Sunday next, when they are to appear with their humble Airs at the Parish Church ofSt. Bride's. Sir, the Mention of this may possibly be serviceable to the Children; and sure no one will omit a good Action attended with no Expence.I am,Sir, Your very humble Servant,The Sexton.
T.
ContentsContents, p.6
Æquam memento rebus in arduis,Servare mentem, non secùs in bonisAb insolenti temperatamLætitiâ, moriture Deli.Hor.
I have always preferred
Chearfulness
to
Mirth
. The latter, I consider as an Act, the former as an Habit of the Mind. Mirth is short and transient. Chearfulness fixed and permanent. Those are often raised into the greatest Transports of Mirth, who are subject to the greatest Depressions of Melancholy: On the contrary, Chearfulness, tho' it does not give the Mind such an exquisite Gladness, prevents us from falling into any Depths of Sorrow. Mirth is like a Flash of Lightning, that breaks thro a Gloom of Clouds, and glitters for a Moment; Chearfulness keeps up a kind of Day-light in the Mind, and fills it with a steady and perpetual Serenity.
Men of austere Principles look upon Mirth as too wanton and dissolute for a State of Probation, and as filled with a certain Triumph and Insolence of Heart, that is inconsistent with a Life which is every Moment obnoxious to the greatest Dangers. Writers of this Complexion have observed, that the sacred Person who was the great Pattern of Perfection was never seen to Laugh.
Chearfulness of Mind is not liable to any of these Exceptions; it is of a serious and composed Nature, it does not throw the Mind into a Condition improper for the present State of Humanity, and is very conspicuous in the Characters of those who are looked upon as the greatest Philosophers among the Heathens, as well as among those who have been deservedly esteemed as Saints and Holy Men among
Christians
.
If we consider Chearfulness in three Lights, with regard to our selves, to those we converse with, and to the great Author of our Being, it will not a little recommend it self on each of these Accounts. The Man who is possessed of this excellent Frame of Mind, is not only easy in his Thoughts, but a perfect Master of all the Powers and Faculties of his Soul: His Imagination is always clear, and his Judgment undisturbed: His Temper is even and unruffled, whether in Action or in Solitude. He comes with a Relish to all those Goods which Nature has provided for him, tastes all the Pleasures of the Creation which are poured about him, and does not feel the full Weight of those accidental Evils which may befal him.
If we consider him in relation to the Persons whom he converses with, it naturally produces Love and Good-will towards him. A chearful Mind is not only disposed to be affable and obliging, but raises the same good Humour in those who come within its Influence. A Man finds himself pleased, he does not know why, with the Chearfulness of his Companion: It is like a sudden Sun-shine that awakens a secret Delight in the Mind, without her attending to it. The Heart rejoices of its own accord, and naturally flows out into Friendship and Benevolence towards the Person who has so kindly an Effect upon it.
When I consider this chearful State of Mind in its third Relation, I cannot but look upon it as a constant habitual Gratitude to the great Author of Nature. An inward Chearfulness is an implicit Praise and Thanksgiving to Providence under all its Dispensations. It is a kind of Acquiescence in the State wherein we are placed, and a secret Approbation of the Divine Will in his Conduct towards Man.
There are but two things which, in my Opinion, can reasonably deprive us of this Chearfulness of Heart. The first of these is the Sense of Guilt. A Man who lives in a State of Vice and Impenitence, can have no Title to that Evenness and Tranquillity of Mind which is the Health of the Soul, and the natural Effect of Virtue and Innocence. Chearfulness in an ill Man deserves a harder Name than Language can furnish us with, and is many degrees beyond what we commonly call Folly or Madness.
Atheism, by which I mean a Disbelief of a Supreme Being, and consequently of a future State, under whatsoever Titles it shelters it self, may likewise very reasonably deprive a Man of this Chearfulness of Temper. There is something so particularly gloomy and offensive to human Nature in the Prospect of Non-Existence, that I cannot but wonder, with many excellent Writers, how it is possible for a Man to out-live the Expectation of it. For my own Part, I think the Being of a God is so little to be doubted, that it is almost the only Truth we are sure of, and such a Truth as we meet with in every Object, in every Occurrence, and in every Thought. If we look into the Characters of this Tribe of Infidels, we generally find they are made up of Pride, Spleen, and Cavil: It is indeed no wonder, that Men, who are uneasy to themselves, should be so to the rest of the World; and how is it possible for a Man to be otherwise than uneasy in himself, who is in danger every Moment of losing his entire Existence, and dropping into Nothing?
The vicious Man and Atheist have therefore no Pretence to Chearfulness, and would act very unreasonably, should they endeavour after it. It is impossible for any one to live in Good-Humour, and enjoy his present Existence, who is apprehensive either of Torment or of Annihilation; of being miserable, or of not being at all.
After having mention'd these two great Principles, which are destructive of Chearfulness in their own Nature, as well as in right Reason, I cannot think of any other that ought to banish this happy Temper from a Virtuous Mind. Pain and Sickness, Shame and Reproach, Poverty and old Age, nay Death it self, considering the Shortness of their Duration, and the Advantage we may reap from them, do not deserve the Name of Evils. A good Mind may bear up under them with Fortitude, with Indolence and with Chearfulness of Heart. The tossing of a Tempest does not discompose him, which he is sure will bring him to a Joyful Harbour.
A Man, who uses his best endeavours to live according to the Dictates of Virtue and right Reason, has two perpetual Sources of Chearfulness; in the Consideration of his own Nature, and of that Being on whom he has a Dependance. If he looks into himself, he cannot but rejoice in that Existence, which is so lately bestowed upon him, and which, after Millions of Ages, will be still new, and still in its Beginning. How many Self-Congratulations naturally arise in the Mind, when it reflects on this its Entrance into Eternity, when it takes a View of those improveable Faculties, which in a few Years, and even at its first setting out, have made so considerable a Progress, and which will be still receiving an Increase of Perfection, and consequently an Increase of Happiness? The Consciousness of such a Being spreads a perpetual Diffusion of Joy through the Soul of a virtuous Man, and makes him look upon himself every Moment as more happy than he knows how to conceive.
The second Source of Chearfulness to a good Mind, is its Consideration of that Being on whom we have our Dependance, and in whom, though we behold him as yet but in the first faint Discoveries of his Perfections, we see every thing that we can imagine as great, glorious, or amiable. We find our selves every where upheld by his Goodness, and surrounded with an Immensity of Love and Mercy. In short, we depend upon a Being, whose Power qualifies him to make us happy by an Infinity of Means, whose Goodness and Truth engage him to make those happy who desire it of him, and whose Unchangeableness will secure us in this Happiness to all Eternity.
Such Considerations, which every one should perpetually cherish in his Thoughts, will banish, from us all that secret Heaviness of Heart which unthinking Men are subject to when they lie under no real Affliction, all that Anguish which we may feel from any Evil that actually oppresses us, to which I may likewise add those little Cracklings of Mirth and Folly that are apter to betray Virtue than support it; and establish in us such an even and chearful Temper, as makes us pleasing to our selves, to those with whom we converse, and to him whom we were made to please.
I.
ContentsContents, p.6
Habes confitentem reum.Tull.