Mr. SPECTATOR, HE Matter which I am now going to send you, 'Tis an unhappy Story, in low Life, and will re commend it felf, fo that you must excufe the Manner of expreffing it. A poor idle drunken Weaver in SpittleFields has a faithful laborious Wife, who by her Fruga lity and Induftry had laid by her as much Money as purchafed her a Ticket in the prefent Lottery. She had hid this very privately in the Bottom of a Trunk, and had given her Number to a Friend and Confident, who had promifed to keep the Secret, and bring her News of the Succefs. The poor Adventurer was one Day gone abroad, when her careless Husband, suspecting the had faved fome Money, fearches every Corner, till at length he finds this fame Ticket; which he immediately carries abroad, fells, and fquanders away the Money, without his Wife's fufpecting any thing of the Matter. A Day or two after this, this Friend, who was a Woman, comes and brings the Wife word, that fhe had a Benefit of Five Hundred Pounds. The poor Creature overjoyed, flies up Stairs to her Husband, who was then at Work, and defires him to leave his Loom for that E<vening, and come and drink with a Friend of him and chers below. The Man received this chearful Invitation. as bad Husbands fometimes do, and after a cross Word or two, told her he wou'd'nt come. His Wife with Tenderness renewed her Importunity, and at length faid to him, My Love! I have within these few Months, unknown to you, fcraped together as much Money as has bought us a Ticket in the Lottery, and now here is Mrs. Quick comes to tell me, that 'tis come up this Morning a Five hundred Pound Prize. The Husband replies immediately, You lye, you Slut, you have no Ticket, for I have fold it. The poor Woman upon this faints away in a Fit, recovers, and is now run diftracted. As fhe had no Defign to defraud her Husband, but was willing only to participate in his good Fortune, every one pities her, but thinks her Husband's Punishment but juft. This, Sir, is Matter of Fact, and would, if the Perfons and Circumftances were greater, in a well-wrought Play be called Beautiful Diftrefs. I have have only sketched it out with Chalk, and know a good • Hand can make a moving Picture with worse Materials. SIR, &c. Mr. SPECTATOR, I Am what the World calls a warm Fellow, and by good Succefs in Trade I have raised my self to a Capacity of making fome Figure in the World; but no ⚫ matter for that. I have now under my Guardianship a couple of Neices, who will certainly make me run mad; which you will not wonder at, when I tell you they are Female Virtuofo's, and during the three Years and a ⚫ half that I have had them under my Care, they never in the least inclined their Thoughts towards any one fingle Part of the Character of a notable Woman. Whilft they fhould have been confidering the proper Ingredi⚫ents for a Sack-Poffet, you fhould hear a Difpute concerning the magnetick Virtue of the Loadstone, or perhaps the Preffure of the Atmosphere: Their Language is peculiar to themselves, and they scorn to express ⚫ themselves on the meaneft Trifle with Words that are not of a Latin Derivation. But this were fupportable ftill, would they fuffer me to enjoy an uninterrupted Ignorance; but, unless I fall in with their diftracted Ideas of Things (as they call them) I must not expect to fmoak one Pipe in Quiet. In a late Fit of the Gout I complained of the Pain of that Diftemper, when my Neice Kitty begged Leave to affure me, that whatever I might think, feveral great Philofophers, both ancient ⚫ and modern, were of Opinion, that both Pleasure and • Pain were imaginary Distinctions; and that there was no fuch Thing as either in rerum Natura. I have of ten heard them affirm that the Fire was not hot; and one Day when I, with the Authority of an old Fel• low, defired one of them to put my blue Cloak on my Knees, the answered, Sir, I will reach the Cloak; but, take Notice, I do not do it as allowing your Description; for it might as well be called Yellow as Blue; for Colour is nothing but the various Infractions of the Rays of the Sun. Mifs Molly told me one Day, That to fay Snow was white, is allowing a vulgar Error; for as it contains a great Quantity of ⚫ nitrous Particles, it may more reasonably be fuppofed to to be black. In short, the young Huffeys would per fwade me, that to believe one's Eyes is a fure way to be deceived; and have often advised me, by no means, to truft any thing fo fallible as my Senfes. What I have to beg of you now is, to turn one Speculation to the due Regulation of female Literature, so far at least, as to make it confiftent with the Quiet of fuch whofe Fate it is to be liable to its Infults; and to tell us the 'difference between a Gentleman that should make • Cheesecakes and raise Paste, and a Lady that reads Lock, * and understands the Mathematicks. In which you will C extreamly oblige T Your hearty Friend, and humble Servant, N° 243. Saturday, December 8. Formam quidem ipfam, Marce fili, & tanquam faciem Honefti vides: qua fi oculis cerneretur, mirabilis amores (ut ait Plato) excitaret Sapientia. Tull. Offic. Do not remember to have read any Difcourfe written I exprely upon the and of without confidering it as a Duty, and as the Means of making us happy both now and hereafter. I defign therefore this Speculation as an Effay upon that Subject, in which I fhall confider Virtue no further than as it is in it felf of an amiable Nature, after having premifed, that I understand by the Word Virtue fuch a general Notion as is affixed to it by the Writers of Morality, and which by devout Men generally goes under the Name of Religion, and by Men of the World under the Name of Honour. HYPOCRISY it felf does great Honour, or rather' Juftice, to Religion, and tacitly acknowledges it to be an Ornament to humane Nature. The Hypocrite would not be at fo much Pains to put on the Appearance of Virtue, if he did not know it was the most proper and effectual Means to gain the Love and Eftcem of Mankind. WE WE learn from Hierocles, it was a common Saying among the Heathens, that the Wife Man hates no Body, but only loves the Virtuous. TULLY has a very beautiful Gradation of Thoughts, to fhew how amiable Virtue is. We love a virtuous Man, fays he, who lives in the remoteft Parts of the Earth, though we are altogether out of the Reach of his Virtue, and can receive from it no Manner of Benefit; nay, one who died feveral Ages ago, raises a fecret Fondness and Benevolence for him in our Minds, when we read his Story: Nay, what is ftill more, one who has been the Enemy of our Country, provided his Wars were regulated by Juftice and Humanity, as in the Instance of Pyrrhus, whom Tully mentions on this Occasion in Oppofition to Hannibal. Such is the natural Beauty and Lovelinefs of Virtue. STOICISM, which was the Pedantry of Virtue, afcribes all good Qualifications, of what kind foever, to the virtuous Man. Accordingly Cato, in the Character Tully has left of him, carries Matters fo far, that he would not allow any one but a virtuous Man to be handfome. This indeed looks more like a Philofophical Rant than the real Opinion of a Wife Man; yet this was what Cato very feriously maintained. In fhort, the Stoicks thought they could not fufficiently represent the Excellence of Virtue, if they did not comprehend in the Notion of it all poffi ble Perfection; and therefore did not only fuppofe, that it was tranfcendently beautiful in it felf, but that it made the very Body amiable, and banished every Kind of Deformity from the Perfon in whom it refided. IT is a common Obfervation, that the most abandoned to all Senfe of Goodness, are apt to wish those who are related to them of a different Character; and it is very obfervable, that none are more ftruck with the Charms of Virtue in the fair Sex, than those who by their very Admiration of it are carried to a Defire of ruining it. A virtuous Mind in a fair Body is indeed a fine Picture in a good Light, and therefore it is no Wonder that it makes the beautiful Sex all over Charms. AS N AS Virtue in general is of an amiable and lovely Nature, there are fome particular Kinds of it which are more fo than others, and these are fuch as difpofe us to do Good to-Mankind. Temperance and Abftinence, Faith and Devotion, are in themselves perhaps as laudable as any other Virtues; but thofe which make a Man popular and be loved, are Juftice, Charity, Munificence, and, in fhort, all the good Qualities that render us beneficial to each other. For which Reason, even an extravagant Man, who has nothing else to recommend him but a falfe Generofity, is often more beloved and efteemed than a Perfon of a much more finished Character, who is defective in this Particular. THE two great Ornaments of Virtue, which fhew her in the moft advantagious Views, and make her altogether lovely, are Chearfulness and Good-nature. These generally go together, as a Man cannot be agreeable to others who is not eafie within him felf. They are both very requifite in a virtuous Mind, to keep out Melancholy from the many ferious Thoughts it is engaged in, and to hinder its natural Hatred of Vice from fouring into Severity and Cenforioufnefs. IF Virtue is of this amiable Nature, what can we think of those who can look upon it with an Eye of Hatred and Ill-will, or can fuffer their Averfion for a Party to blot out all the Merit of the Perfon who is engaged in it. A Man must be exceffively ftupid, as well as uncharitable, who believes that there is no Virtue but on his own Side, and that there are not Men as honeft as himself who may differ from him in Political Principles. Men may oppose one another in fome Particulars, but ought not to carry their Hatred to thofe Qualities which are of fo amiable a Nature in themfelves, and have nothing to do with the Points in Difpute. Men of Virtue, though of different Interefts, ought to confider themselves as more nearly united with one another, than with the vicious Part of Mankind, who embark with them in the fame civil Concerns. We should bear the fame Love towards a Man of Honour, who is a living Antagonist, which Tully tells us in the forementioned Paffage every one naturally does to an Enemy that is dead. In fhort, we fhould efteem Virtue though in a Foe, and abhor Vice though in a Friend. I |