" 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 clockwork ; 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 happened." Rosicrucius, say his disciples, made use of this method, to show the world that he had re-invented the ever-burning lamps of the ancients, though he was resolved no one should reap any advantage from the discovery. BDDOELL. X. No. 380. FRIDAY, MAY 16, 1712. Kivalem pa'tienter habe Ovid. Abs Am. n. 538. With patience bear a rival in thy love. *' Thnnday, May 8, 1712. " Sir, " The character you have in the world of being the ladies' philosopher, and the pretty advice I have seen you give to others in your papers, make me address myself to you in this abrupt manner, and to desire your opinion what in this age a woman may call a lover. I have had lately a gentleman that I thought made pretensions to me, insomuch that most of my Mends 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 herself the liberty of taking me to task concerning it: I ingenuously told her we were not married, but I did not know what might be 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 will leave you to judge: but I am informed that he utterly denied all pretensions to courtship, but withal professed a sincere friendship for me; but whether marriages are proposed 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 mightily at a loss : each believes I, who know them both well, think myself 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, "myrtilla." "April 28,1712. " Mr. Spectator, " Yocr 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 there 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 itself. There is an instance of this in a friend of Will Honeycomb's, who sits opposite to me. He seldom comes in till the prayers are about half over; and when he has entered 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 would 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.'f "May the5th. " 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-coloured 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 eoquette 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 • See No. 259. t Then may be the initials of Swift's name, in whose works there is a sermon expressly on the subject of Sleeping at Church. See vol. viii. p. 17, 8ro. edit. 1824. 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." "May 12,1712. " Sir, " Com iNi; last week into a coffee-house not far from the Exchange with my basket under my arm, a Jew of 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 curtsey, and went my way. He followed me, and finding I was going about my business, he came up with me, and told me plainly, that be 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 wicked; I will keep it to make me honest, However, not to be in the least ungrateful, I promise you I will lay it out in a couple of rings, and wear them for your sake.' I am so just, Sir, besides, as to give everybody 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 to tell it once for all, and you will extremely oblige, " Your humble servant, " Betty Lemon." "St. Bride's, May 15, 1712. " Sir, " "1'is 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 of St Bride, 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 of St. Bride. Sir, the mention of this may possibly be serviceable to the children; and sure no one will omit a good action attended with no expense. "I am, Sir, your very humble servant, " The Sexton." STEELE. T. No. 381. SATURDAY, MAY 17, 1712. iEquam memento rebus in arduis Ab insoleiiti temperatam Be calm, my Dclius, and serene, However fortune change the scene ; In thy most dejected state. Sink not underneath the weight ; Ifot yet, when happy days begin, And the mil tide comes rolling in. Let a fierce, unruly joy, The settled quiet of thy mind destroy. A.vos. I Have always preferred cheerfulness to mirth. The latter I consider as an act, the former as a habit of the mind. Mirth is short and transient, cheerfulness 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, cheerfulness, though 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 through a gloom of clouds, and glitters for a moment; cheerfulness keep9 up a kind of daylight 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. Cheerfulness 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 cheerfulness in three lights, with regard to ourselves, to those we converse with, and to the great Author of our being, it will not a little recommend itself 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 Mid faculties of his soul. His imagination is always clear, and Ws 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 mav befal him. If we consider him in relation to the persons whom he converses with, it naturally produces love and goodwill towards him. A cheerful 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 cheerfulness of his companion. It is like a sudden sunshine 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 kiudly an effect upon it. When I consider this cheerful 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 cheerfulness 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 cheerfulness 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. Cheerfulness 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 Supremo Being, and consequently of a future state, under whatsoever titles it shelters itself, may likewise very reasonably deprive a man of this cheerfulness 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 outlive 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 tA 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 cheer |