humours; the mind being often pleased with despicable. A man must be sincerely pleased those perfections which are new to it, and which to become pleasure, or not to interrupt that of it does not find among its own accomplish- others; for this reason it is a most calamitous ments. Besides that a man in some measure circumstance, that many people who want to supplies his own defects, and fancies bimself at be alone, or should be so, will come into consecond-hand possessed of those good qualities versation. It is certain that all men, who are and endowments, which are in the possession the least given to reflection, are seized with an of him who in the eye of the world is looked inclination that way when, perhaps, they had upon as his other self. The most difficult province in friendship is the letting a man see his faults and errors, which should, if possible, be so contrived, that be may perceive our advice is given him not so much to please ourselves as for his own advantage. The reproaches therefore of a friend should always be strictly just, and not too frequent. The violent desire of pleasing in the person reproved may otherwise change into a despair of doing it, while he finds himself censured for faults he is not conscious of. A mind that is softened and humanized by friendship cannot bear frequent reproaches; either it must quite sink under the oppression, or abate considerably of the value and esteem it had for him who bestows them. The proper business of friendship is to inspire life and courage; and a soul thus suppor ted outdoes itself: whereas, if it be unexpectedly deprived of these succours, it droops and fanguishes. rather be inclined to company; but indeed they had better go home and be tired with themselves, than force themselves upon others to recover their good humour. In all this, the case of communicating to a friend a sad thought or difficulty, in order to relieve a heavy heart, stands excepted; but what is here meant is, that a man should always go with inclination to the turn of the company he is going into, or not pretend to be of the party. It is certainly a very happy temper to be able to live with all kinds of dispositions, because it argues a mind that lies open to receive what is pleasing to others, and not obstinately bent on any particularity of his own. This is it which makes me pleased with the character of my good acquaintance Acasto. You meet him at the tables and conversations of the wise, the impertinent, the grave, the frolic, and the witty; and yet his own character has nothing in it that can make him particularly agreeable to any one sect of men; but Acasto has natural good sense, good-nature, and discretion, so that every man enjoys himself in We are in some measure more inexcusable if we violate our duties to a friend than to a re- his company; and though Acasto contributes lation; since the former arises from a voluntary choice, the latter from a necessity to which we could not give our own consent. Cum tristibus severé, cum remissis jacundé, ɔum senibus graviter, cum juventute comiter vivere.-Tull. nothing to the entertainment, he never was at a place where he was not welcome a second time. Without the subordinate good qualities of Acasto, a man of wit and learning would be painful to the generality of mankind, instead of being pleasing. Witty men are apt to imagine they are agreeable as such, and by that means grow the worst companions imaginable; they deride the absent or rally the present in a wrong manner, not knowing that if you pinch or tickle a man till he is uneasy in his seat, or ungracefully distinguished from the rest of the company, you equally hurt him. I was going to say, the true art of being agreeable in company (but there can be no such thing as art in it) is to appear well pleased with THE piece of Latin on the head of this paper those you are engaged with, and rather to seem is part of a character extremely vicious, but I well entertained, than to bring entertainment have set down no more than may fall in with to others. A man thus disposed is not indeed the rules of justice and honour. Cicero spoke what we ordinarily call a good companion, bat it of Catiline, who, he said, 'lived with the sad essentially is such, and in all the parts of his severely, with the cheerful agreeably, with the conversation has something friendly in his beold gravely, with the young pleasantly;' he haviour, which conciliates men's minds more added, with the wicked boldly, with the wan-than the highest sallies of wit or starts of huton lasciviously.' The two last instances of his mour can possibly do. The feebleness of age complaisance I forbear to consider, having it in a man of this turn has something which in my thoughts at present only to speak of ob- should be treated with respect even in a man sequiour behaviour as it sits upon a companion no otherwise venerable. The forwardness of in pleasure, not a man of design and intrigue. youth, when it proceeds from alacrity and not To vary with every humour in this manner insolence, has also its allowances. The comcannot be agreeable, except it comes from a panion who is formed for such by nature, gives man's own temper and natural complexion; to to every character of life its due regards, and do it out of an ambition to excel that way, is is ready to account for their imperfections, and the most fruitless and unbecoming prostitution receive their accomplishments as if they were imaginable. To put on an artful part to ob-his own. It must appear that you receive law tain no other end but an unjust praise from from, and not give it, to your company, to the undiscerning, is of all endeavours the most make you agreeable. I remember Tully, speaking, I think, of An-cheerfulness mutually beget each other; with tony, says, that, In eo facetiæ erant, quæ nulla this difference, that we seldom meet with a arte tradi possunt: He had a witty mirth, great degree of health which is not attended which could be acquired by no art.' This qua- with a certain cheerfulness, but very often see lity must be of the kind of which I am now cheerfulness where there is no great degree of speaking; for all sorts of behaviour which de- health. pends upon observation and knowledge of life are to be acquired; but that which no one can describe, and is apparently the act of nature, must be every where prevalent, because every thing it meets is a fit occasion to exert it; for he who follows nature can never be improper or unseasonable. Cheerfulness bears the same friendly regard to the mind as to the body. It banishes all anxious care and discontent, soothes and composes the passions, and keeps the soul in a perpetual calm. But having already touched on this last consideration, I shall here take notice, that the world in which we are placed is filled with innumerable objects that are preper to raise and keep alive this happy temper of mind. How unaccountable then must their behaviour be, who, without any manner of consideration of what the company they have now entered are upon, give themselves the air of a If we consider this world in its subsermessenger, and make as distinct relations of viency to man, one would think it was made the occurrences they last met with, as if they for our use; but if we consider it in its nahad been despatched from those they talk to, tural beauty and harmony, one would be apt to be punctually exact in a report of those cir- to conclude it was made for our pleasure. cumstances! It is unpardonable to those who The sun, which is as the great soul of the are met to enjoy one another that a fresh man universe, and prroduces all the necessaries shall pop in, and give us only the last part of of life, has a particular influence in cheerhis own life, and put a stop to ours during the ing the mind of man, and making the heart history. If such a man comes from 'Change, glad. whether you will or not, you must hear how the stocks go; and, though you are never so intently employed on a graver subject, a young fellow of the other end of the town will take his place, and tell you, Mrs. Such-a-one is charmingly handsome, because he just now saw her. But I think I need not dwell on this subject, since I have acknowledged there can be no rules made for excelling this way; and precepts of this kind fare like rules for writing poetry, which, it is said, may have prevented ill poets, but never make good Those several living creatures which are made for our service or sustenance at the same time either fill the woods with their musie, furnish us with game, or raise pleasing ideas in us by the delightfulness of their appearance. Fountains, lakes and rivers, are as refreshing to the imagination, as to the soil through which they pass. There are writers of great distinction, who have made it an argument for Providence, that the whole earth is covered with green rather than with any other colour, as being such a right mixture of light and shade, that it comforts and strengthens the eye, instead of weakening or grieving it. For this reson several painters have a green cloth hanging near them to ease the eye upon, after too great an application to their colouring. A famous modern philosopher* accounts for it in the following manner. All colours that are more luminous, overpower and dissipate the animal spirits which are employed in sight; on the contrary, those that are more obscure do not give the animal spirits a sufficient exercise; whereas the rays that produce in us the idea of green, Quid purè tranquillet Hor. Ep. xviii. Lib. 1. 102. What calms the breast, and makes the mind serene. IN my last Saturday's paper I spoke of cheerfulness as it is a moral habit of the mind, and accordingly mentioned such moral motives as are apt to cherish and keep alive this happy temper in the soul of man I shall now consider cheerfulness in its na-fall upon the eye in such a due proportion, tural state, and reflect on those motives to it which are indifferent either as to virtue or vice. that they give the animal spirits their proper play, and, by keeping up the struggle in a just balance, excite a very pleasing and agreeable sensation. Let the cause be what it will, the effect is certain; for which reason, the poets ascribe to this particular colour the epithet of Cheerfulness is, in the first place, the best promoter of health. Repinings, and secret murmurs of heart, give imperceptible strokes to those delicate fibres of which the vital cheerful. parts are composed, and wear out the machine To consider further this double end in the insensibly; not to mention those violent fer- works of nature, and how they are at the same ments which they stir up in the blood, and time both useful and entertaining, we find that those irregular disturbed motions which they the most important parts in the vegetable raise in the animal spirits. I scarce remem-world are those which are the most beautiful. ber, in my own observation, to have met with These are the seeds by which the several races many old men, or with such, who (to use our of plants are propagated and continued, and English phrase) wear well, that had not at which are always lodged in flowers or blosleast a certain indolence in their humour, if soms. Nature seems to hide her principal denot a more than ordinary gaiety and cheerful ness of heart. The truth of it is, health and * Sir Isaac Newton. 2 sign, and to be industrious in making the earth by a right improvement of them will progay and delightful, while she is carrying on duce a satiety of joy, and an uninterrupted her great work, and intent upon her own pre- happiness. servation. The husbandman, after the same At the same time that I would engage my manner, is employed in laying out the whole reader to consider the world in its most agreecountry into a kind of garden or landscape, able lights, I must own there are many evils and making every thing smile about him, which naturally spring up amidst the entertainwhilst in reality he thinks of nothing but of ments that are provided for us; but these, if the harvest, and the increase which is to arise rightly considered, should be far from overfrom it. casting the mind with sorrow, or destroying We may further observe how Providence has that cheerfulness of temper which I have taken care to keep up this cheerfulness in the been recommending. This interspersion of mind of man, by having formed it after such evil with good, and pain with pleasure, in a manner, as to make it capable of conceiving the works of nature, is very truly ascribed delight from several objects which seem to by Mr. Locke, in his Essay on Human Unhave very little use in them; as from the wild-derstanding, to a moral reason, in the followness of rocks and deserts, and the like gro- ing words. 6 tesque parts of nature. Those who are versed Beyond all this we may find another reason in philosophy may still carry this considera- why God hath scattered up and down several tion higher, by observing, that if matter had degrees of pleasure and pain, in all the things appeared to us endowed only with those real that environ and affect us, and blended them qualities which it actually possesses, it would together, in almost all that our thoughts and have made but a very joyless and uncomforta-senses have to do with; that we, finding imble figure; and why has Providence given it perfection, dissatisfaction, and want of coma power of producing in us such imaginary plete happiness, in all the enjoyments which qualities, and tastes and colours, sounds and the creatures can afford us, might be led to smells, heat and cold, but that man, while he seek it in the enjoyment of Him with whom is conversant in the lower stations of nature," there is fulness of joy, and at whose right might have his mind cheered and delighted hand are pleasures for evermore." with agreeable sensations? In short, the whole universe is a kind of theatre, filled with objects that either raise in us pleasure, amusement, or No. 388.] Monday, May 26, 1712. admiration. The reader's own thoughts will suggest to him the vicissitude of day and night, the change of seasons, with all that variety of scenes which diversify the face of nature, and fill the mind with a perpetual succession of beautiful and pleasing images. L. Tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis MR. SPECTATOR, I shall not here mention the several enterIr is my custom, when I read your papers, to tainments of art, with the pleasures of friend-read over the quotations in the authors from ship, books, conversation, and other accidental whence you take them. As you mentioned a diversions of life, because I would only take passage lately out of the second chapter of notice of such incitements to a cheerful temper Solomon's Song, it occasioned my looking into as offer themselves to persons of all ranks and it; and, upon reading it, I thought the ideas conditions, and which may sufficiently show so exquisitely soft and tender, that I could not uts that Providence did not design this world help making this paraphrase of it: which, should be filled with murmurs and repinings, now it is done, I can as little forbear sending or that the heart of man should be involved in to you. Some marks of your approbation, gloom and melancholy. which I have already received, have given me I the more inculcate this cheerfulness of so sensible a taste of them, that I cannot fortemper, as it is a virtue in which our country-bear endeavouring after them as often as I can men are observed to be more deficient than with any appearance of success. any other nation. Melancholy is a kind of demon that haunts our island, and often conveys herself to us in an easterly wind. A cele 'I am, Sir, • Your most obedient humble servant.' brated French novelist, in opposition to those THE SECOND CHAPTER OF SOLOMON'S SONG who begin their romances with the flowery season of the year, enters on his story thus, In the gloomy month of November, when the people of England hang and drown themselves, a disconsolate lover walked out into the fields,' &c. Every one ought to fence against the temper of his climate or constitution, and frequently to indulge in himself those considerations which may give him a serenity of mind, and enable him to bear up cheerfully against those those little evils and misfortunes which are common to human nature, and which, I. "As when in Sharon's field the blushing rose Does o'er each flow'r with beauteous pride prevail, And their united charms are less than mine. II. "As much as fairest lilies can surpass So does my Love the virgins eyes invite: "Beneath his pleasing shade And on his fragrant boughs reclin'd my head. I pull'd the golden fruit with eager haste; Sweet was the fruit, and pleasing to the taste! With sparkling wine he crown'd the bowl, With gentle ecstacies he fill'd my soul; Joyous we sat beneath the shady grove, And o'er my head he hung the banners of his love. IV. "I faint! I die! my lab'ring breast And paleness dwells upon my face: "I charge you, nymphs of Sion, as you go Be only gentle Zephyrs there And when the balmy slumber leaves his eyes, For, now the sullen winter's past, No more we fear the northern blast ; "Already, see! the teeming earth "As to its mate the constant dove Flies through the covert of the spicy grove, So let us hasten to some lonely shade. There let me safe in thy lov'd arms be taid, Where no intruding hateful noise Shall damp the sound of thy melodious voice; Where I may gaze, and mark each beauteous grace: For sweet thy voice, and lovely is thy face. NOTHING has more surprised the learned in England, than the price which a small book, entitled Spaccio della Bestia triomfante, bore in a late auction.* This book was sold for thirty pounds. As it was written by one Jordanus Brunus, a professed atheist, with a design to depreciate religion, every one was apt to fancy, from the extravagant price it bore, that there must be something in it very formidable. I must confess that, happening to get a sight of one of them myself, I could not forbear persuing it with this apprehension; but found there was so very little danger in it, that I shall venture to give my reader, a fair account of the whole plan upon which this wonderful treatise is built. The author pretends that Jupiter, once upon a time, resolved upon a reformation of the constellations: for which purpose, having summoned the stars together, he complains to them of the great decay of the worship of the gods, which he thought so much the harder, having called several of those celestial bodies by the names of the heathen deities, and by that means made the heavens as it were a book of the pagan theology. Momus tells him that this is not to be wondered at, since there were so many scandalous stories of the deities. Upon which the author takes occasion to cast reflections upon all other religions, concluding that Jupiter, after a full hearing, discarded the deities out of heaven, and called the stars by the names of the moral virtues. The book here mentioned was bought by Walter Clavel, esq. at the auction of the library of Charles Barnard, esq. in 1711, for 28 pounds. The same copy became successively the property of Mr. John Nichols, of Mr. Joseph Ames, of sir Peter Thompson, and of M. C. Tutet, esq. among whose books it was lately sold by auction, at Mr. Gerrard's in Litchfield-street. The author of this book, Giordano Bruno, was a native of Nola in the kingdom of Naples, and burnt at Rome by the order of the inquisition in 1600. Morhoff, speaking of atheists, says, 'Jordanum tamen Brunum huic classi non annumerarem,manifesto in illo atheismi vestigia non deprehendo.' Polyhist. i. 1, 8, 22. Bruno published many other writings said to be atheistical. The book spoken ofhere was printed not at Paris, as is said in the title-page, nor in 1544, but at London, and in 1584, 12mo. dedicated to sir Philip Sidney, It was for some time so little regarded, that it was sold with five other books of the same author, for 25 pence French, at the sale of Mr. Bigor's library in 1706; but it is now very scarce, and has been sold at the exhorbitant price of 501. Niceron. Hommes illust. tom. xvii. p. 211. There was an edition of it in English in 1713. The short fable, which has no pretence in it to reason or argument, and but a very small share of wit, has however recommended itself, wholly by its impiety, to those weak men who would distinguish themselves by the singularity of their opinions. now and then been instances of a few crazy people in several nations, who have denied the existence of a deity. The catalogue of these is, however, very short: even Vaninia, the most celebrated champion for the cause, professed before his There are two considerations which have judges that he believed the existence of a God: been often urged against atheists, and which and, taking up a straw which lay before him they never yet could get over. The first is, on the ground, assured them, that alone was that the greatest and most eminent persons of sufficient to convince him of it; alleging seall ages have been against them, and always veral arguments to prove that it was imposcomplied with the public forms of worship es-sible nature alone could create any thing. tablished in their respective countries, when I was the other day reading an account of there was nothing in them either derogatory Casimir Lyszynski, a gentleman of Poland, to the honour of the Supreme Being, or pre- who was convicted and executed for this judicial to the good of mankind. crime. The manner of his punishment was The Platos and Ciceros among the ancients; very particular. As soon as his body was the Bacons, the Boyles, and the Lockes, among burnt, his ashes were put into a cannon, and our own countrymen; are all instances of shot into the air towards Tartary. what I have been saying; not to mention any of the divines, however celebrated, since our adversaries challenge all those, as men who have too much interest in this case to be impartial evidences. I am apt to believe, that if something like this method of punishment should prevail in England (such is the natural good sense of the British nation), that whether we rammed an atheist whole into a great gun, or pulverized our infidels, as they do in Poland, we should not have many charges. But what has been often urged as a consideration of much more weight, is not only the opinion of the better sort, but the general I should however premise, while our ammuconsent of mankind to this great truth; which nition lasted, that, instead of Tartary, we I think could not possibly have come to pass, should always keep two or three cannons reabut from one of the three following reasons: dy pointed towards the Cape of Good Hope, either that the idea of a God is innate and co-in order to shoot our unbelievers into the existent with the mind itself; or that this truth country of the Hottentots. is so very obvious, that it is discovered by the first exertion of reason in persons of the most ordinary capacities; or lastly, that it has been delivered down to us through all ages by a tradition from the first man. The atheist are equally confounded, to whichever of these three causes we assign it; they have been so pressed by this last argument from the general consent of mankind, that after great search and pains they pretend to have found out a nation of atheists, I mean that polite people the Hottentots. I dare not shock my readers with the description of the customs and manners of these barbarians, who are in every respect scarce one degree above brutes, having no language among them but a confused gabble, which is neither well understood by themselves nor others. It is not, however, to be imagined how much the atheists have gloried in these their good friends and allies. In my opinion, a solemn judicial death is too great an honour for an atheist; though I must allow the method of exploding him, as it is practised in this ludicrous kind of martyrdom, has something in it proper enough to the nature of his offence. There is indeed a great objection against this manner of treating them. Zeal for religion is of so effective a nature that it seldom knows where to rest; for which reason I am afraid, after having discharged our atheists, we might possibly think of shooting off our sectaries; and as one does not foresee the vicissitudes of human affairs, it might one time or other come to a man's own turn to fly out of the mouth of a demiculverin. If any of my readers imagine that I have treated these gentlemen in too ludicrous a manner, I must confess, for my own part, I think reasoning against such unbelievers, upon a point that shocks the common sense of mankind, is doing them too great an honour, givIf we boast of a Socrates or a Seneca, they ing them a figure in the eye of the world, and may now confront them with these great philo-making people fancy that they have more in sophers the Hottentots. them than they really have. Though even this point has, not without As for those persons who have any scheme reason, been several times controverted, I see of religious worship, I am for treating such no manner of harm it could do to religion, if with the utmost tenderness, and should endeawe should entirely give them up this elegant vour to show them their errors with the greatpart of mankind. Methinks nothing more shows the weakness of their cause, than that no division of their fellow-creatures join with them, but those among whom they themselves own reason is 'almost defaced and who have little else but their shape which can entitle them to any place in the species. Besides these poor creatures, there have est temper and humanity: but as these mis- |