I HAD occasion to go a few miles out of town, some days since, in a stage coach, where I had for my fellow travellers a dirty beau, and a pretty young quaker woman. Having no inclination to talk much at that time, I placed myself backward, with a design to survey them, and pick a speculation out of my two companions. Their different figures were sufficient of themselves to draw my attention. The gentleman was dressed in a suit, the ground whereof had been black, as I perceived from some few spaces that had escaped the powder, which was incorporated with the greatest part of his coat: his periwig, which cost no small sum*, was after so slovenly a manner cast over his shoulders, that it seemed not to have been combed since the year 1712; his linen, which was not much concealed, was daubed with plain Spanish from the chin to the lowest button; and the diamond upon his finger (which naturally dreaded the water) put me in mind how it sparkled amidst the rubbish of the mine where it was first discovered. On the other hand, the pretty quaker appeared in all the elegance of cleanliness. Not a speck was to be found upon her. A clear, clean, oval face, just edged about with little thin plaits of the purest cambric, received great advantages from the shade of her black hood; as did the whiteness of her arms from that sober-coloured stuff in which she had clothed herself. The plainness of her dress was very well suited to the simplicity of her phrases; all which, put together, though they could not give me a great opinion of her religion, they did of her innocence. This adventure occasioned my throwing together a few hints upon cleanliness, which I shall consider as one of the half-virtues, as Aristotle calls them, and shall recommend it under the three following heads; as it is a mark of politeness; as it produces love; and as it bears analogy to purity of mind. First, It is a mark of politeness. It is universally agreed upon, that no one, unadorned with this virtue, can go into company without giving a manifest offence. The easier or higher any one's fortune is, this duty rises proportionably. The different nations of the world are as much distinguished by their cleanliness as by their arts and sciences. The more any country is civilized, the more they consult this part of politeness. We need but compare our ideas of a female Hottentot and an English beauty to be satisfied of the truth of what hath been advanced. In the next place, cleanliness may be said to be the foster-mother of love. Beauty indeed most commonly produces that passion in the mind, but cleanliness preserves it. An indifferent face and person, kept in perpetual neatness, hath won many A fine wig in those days would often cost 40 guineas. a heart from a pretty slattern. Age itself a sa unamiable, while it is preserved clean and us lied: like a piece of metal constantly kept and bright, we look on it with more pleasure t on a new vessel that is cankered with rust. I might observe further, that as cleanlines ders us agreeable to others, so it makes us east ourselves: that it is an excellent preservat health; and that several vices, destructive bea mind and body, are inconsistent with the bus it *. But these reflections I shall leave to thei sure of my readers, and shall observe, in the s place, that it bears a great analogy with purin. mind, and naturally inspires refined sentiment in passions. We find from experience, that through the valence of custom the most vicious actious im their horror by being made familiar to us. Or contrary, those who live in the neighbourho good examples, fly from the first appearates i what is shocking. It fares with us much after a same manner as our ideas. Our senses, which a the inlets to all the images conveyed to the m can only transmit the impression of such thing usually surround them. So that pure and w thoughts are naturally suggested to the mud, » those objects that perpetually encompassus, vir they are beautiful and elegant in their kind. In the east, where the warmth of the tim makes cleanliness more immediately necessary th in colder countries, it is made one part of religion: the Jewish law, and the Mabo which in some things copies after it, is filled w bathings, purifications, and other rites of the ale nature. Though there is the above-named core nient reason to be assigned for these cerezas e the chief intention undoubtedly was to typity a ward purity and cleanliness of heart by those of ward washings. We read several injunction e this kind in the book of Denteronomy, whiche firm this truth; and which are but ill accounted to by saying as some do, that they were only instr for convenience in the desert, which otherwise c not have been habitable for so many years. have somewhere read in an account of Mabo I shall conclude this essay with a story which i superstitions. A dervise of great sanctity one morning had de misfortune, as he took up a crystal cup which a consecrated to the prophet, to let it fall apos ground and dash it in pieces. His son coming a some time after, he stretched out his hand to dre him, as his manner was every morning: burde youth going out stumbled over the threshold and broke his arm. As the old man wondered at their events a caravan passed by in its way from Mec. the dervise approached it to beg a blessing; but as he stroked one of the holy camels, he recess a kick from the beast that sorely bruised him. Es sorrow and amazement increased upon b, he recollected that, through hurry and inadvertenc" he had that morning come abroad without his hands. that famous circumnavigator Captain Cook, fur he N° 632. MONDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1714. Explebo numerum, reddarque tenebris. the number I'll complete, Then to obscurity well pleas'd retreat. · 6 "HE love of symmetry and order, which is natural the mind of man, betrays him sometimes into ery whimsical fancies. This noble principle,' ays a French author, loves to amuse itself on the most trifling occasions. You may see a profound hilosopher,' says he, walk for an hour together his chamber, and industriously treading, at every ep, upon every other board in the flooring. Every reader will recollect several instances of is nature without my assistance. I think it was Gregorio Leti, who had published as many books she was years old *; which was a rule he had aid down and punctually observed to the year of is death. It was, perhaps, a thought of the like ature which determined Homer himself to divide ach of his poems into as many books as there are etters in the Greek alphabet. Herodotus has in The same manner adapted his books to the number f the muses, for which reason many a learned man bath wished there had been more than nine of hat sisterhood. Several epic poets have religiously followed Virgil as to the number of his books; and even Milton is thought by many to have changed the number of his books from ten to twelve for no other -eason; as Cowley tells us, it was his design, had he finished his Davideis, to have also imitated the Eneid in this particular. I believe every one will agree with me that a perfection of this nature hath no foundation in reason; and, with due respect to hese great names, may be looked upon as something whimsical. I mention these great examples in defence of my bookseller, who occasioned this eighth volume of Spectators, because, as he said, he thought seven a wery odd number. On the other side several grave reasons were urged on this important subject; as, In particular, that seven was the precise number of he wise men, and that the most beautiful constelation in the heavens was composed of seven stars. This he allowed to be true, but still insisted that seven was an odd number: suggesting at the same time, that if he were provided with a sufficient stock of leading papers, he should find friends ready enough to carry on the work. Having by this means got his vessel launched and set alioat, he hath committed the steerage of it, from time to time, to such as he thought capable of conducting it. The close of this volume, which the town may now expect in a little time, may possibly ascribe each sheet to its proper author t. It were no hard task to continue this paper a *This writer used to boast that he had been the author of a book and the father of a child for twenty years successively. We know that Dean Swift counted the number of steps that he made from London to Chelsea. And it is said and demonstrated in the "Parentalia," that Matthew Wren (Bishop of Ely) walked round the earth while a prisoner in the Tower of London, where he lay near eighteen years. + This promise seems to have been forgotten; so that as to most of the papers in this eighth volume, (baving no signtures) no satisfactory account can be given of the persons by whom they were written. considerable time longer by the help of large contributions sent from unknown hands. I cannot give the town a better opinion of the Spectator's correspondents than by publishing the following letter, with a very fine copy of verses upon a subject perfectly new. 6 MR. SPECTATOR, Dublin, Nov. 30, 1714. 'You lately recommended to your female readers the good old custom of their grandmothers, who used to lay out a great part of their time in needle work. I entirely agree with you in your sentiments, and think it would not be of less advantage to themselves and their posterity, than to the reputation of many of their good neighbours, if they passed many of those hours in this innocent entertainment which are lost at the tea-table. I would, however, humbly offer to your consideration the case of the poetical ladies; who, though they may be willing to take any advice given them by the Spectator, yet cannot so easily quit their pen and ink as you may imagine. Pray allow them, at least now and then, to indulge themselves in other amusements of fancy when they are tired with stooping to their tapestry. There is a very particular kind of work, which of late several ladies here in our kingdom are very fond of, which seems very well adapted to a poetical genius; it is the making of grottos. I know a lady who has a very beautiful one, composed by herself; nor is there one shell in it not stuck up by her own hands. I here send you a poem to the fair architect, which I would not offer to herself until I knew whether this method of a lady's passing her time were approved of by the British Spectator; which, with the poem, I submit to your censure, who am, "Your constant reader, "A Grotto so complete, with such design, "Where can unpolish'd nature boast a piece } "Charm'd with the sight, my ravish'd breast is fir'd } such objects will give our discourse a noble rigur an invincible force, beyond the power of any is No 633. WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1714. man consideration. Tully requires in his peri Omnia profecto cum se a cœlestibus rebus referet ad humanas excelsius magnificentiusque et dicct et sentict. CICERO. The contemplation of celestial things will make a man both speak and think more sublimely and magnificently when he descends to human affairs. orator some skill in the nature of heavenly d because, says he, his mind will become more e tensive and unconfined; and when he descr treat of human affairs, he will both thrak unt write in a more exalted and magnificent mine For the same reason that excellent master w have recommended the study of those great un THE following discourse is printed as it came to glorious mysteries which revelation has discess my hands, without variation. Cambridge, Dec. 11. 'It was a very common inquiry among the ancients, why the number of excellent orators, under all the encouragements the most flourishing states could give them, fell so far short of the number of those who excelled in all other sciences. A friend of mine used merrily to apply to this case an observation of Herodotus, who says, that the most useful animals are the most fruitful in their generation; whereas the species of those beasts that are fierce and mischievous to mankind are but scarcely continued. The historian instances in a hare, which always either breeds or brings forth; and a lioness, which brings forth but once, and then loses all power of conception. But leaving my friend to his mirth, I am of opinion that in these latter ages we have greater cause of complaint than the ancients had. And since that solemn festival is approaching, which calls for all the power of oratory, and which affords as noble a subject for the pulpit as any revelation has taught us, the design of this paper shall be to show that our moderns have greater advantages towards true and solid eloquence than any which the celebrated speakers of antiquity enjoyed. to us; to which the noblest parts of this system have lavished out all the force of eloquence in The first great and substantial difference is, that their common-places, in which almost the whole force of amplification consists, were drawn from the profit or honesty of the action, as they regarded only this present state of duration. But Christi-Christianity has brought to light, how weald anity, as it exalts morality to a greater perfection, as it brings the consideration of another life into the question, as it proposes rewards and punishments of a higher nature and a longer continuance, is more adapted to affect the minds of the audience, naturally inclined to pursue what it imagines its greatest interest and concern. If Pericles, as historians report, could shake the firmest resolutions of his hearers, and set the passions of all Greece in a ferment, when the present welfare of his country, or the fear of hostile invasions, was the subject; what may be expected from that orator who warns his audience against those evils which have no remedy, when once undergone, either from prudence or time? As much greater as the evils in a future state are than these at present, so much are the motives to persuasion under Christianity greater than those which mere moral considerations could supply us with. But what I now mention relates only to the power of moving the affections. There is another part of eloquence which is indeed its masterpiece; I mean the marvellous, or sub. lime. In this the Christian orator has the advantage beyond contradiction. Our ideas are so infinitely enlarged by revelation, the eye of reason has so wide a prospect into eternity, the notions of a Deity are so worthy and refined, and the accounts we have of a state of happiness or misery so clear and evident, that the contemplation of * Christmas. This advantage Christians have; and it w with no small pleasure I lately met with a g ment of Longinus, which is preserved, as a test mony of that critic's judgment, at the beginning of a manuscript of the New Testament in the Vatcan library. After that author has numbered the most celebrated orators among the Grecans, le says, "add to these Paul of Tarsus, the par að an opinion not yet fully proved." As a bus he condemns the Christian religion; and, a impartial critic, he judges in favour of the p moter and preacher of it. To me it seems the latter part of his judgment adds great weg. to his opinion of St. Paul's abilities, since, is constrained to acknowledge the ment of the all the prejudice of opinions directly oppasar, apostle. And no doubt such as Longinus dex St. Paul, such he appeared to the inhabi ous. The finset works of invention and imagination are of very little weight when put in the balance with what refines and exalts the rational mind. Longinus excuses Homer very handsomely, when he says the poet made his gods like men, that he might make his men appear like the gods. But it must be allowed that several of the ancient philosophers acted as Cicero wishes Homer had done: they endeavoured rather to make men like gods than gods like men. This last character, when divested of the glare of human philosophy that surrounds it, signifies no more than that a good and wise man should so arm himself with patience, as not to yield tamely to the violence of passion and pain; that he should learn so to suppress and contract his desires as to have few wants; and that he should cherish so many virtues in his soul as to have a perpetual source of pleasure in himself. ose countries which he visited and blessed with ose doctrines he was divinely commissioned to each. Sacred story gives us, in one circumstance, convincing proof of his eloquence, when the men Lystra called him Mercury, "because he was e chief speaker," and would have paid divine orship to him, as to the God who invented and esided over eloquence. This one account of our ostle sets his character, considered as an orar only, above all the celebrated relations of the ill and influence of Demosthenes and his con- According to this general maxim in philosophy, mporaries. Their power in speaking was admir- some of them have endeavoured to place men in , but still it was thought human: their eloquence such a state of pleasure, or indolence at least, as armed and ravished the hearers, but still it was they vainly imagined the happiness of the Supreme ought the voice of man, not the voice of God. Being to consist in. On the other hand, the most hat advantage then had St. Paul above those of virtuous sect of philosophers have created a chireece or Rome? I confess I can ascribe this ex-merical wise man, whom they made exempt from llence to nothing but the power of the doctrines passions and pain, and thought it enough to prodelivered, which may have still the same influ-nounce him all-sufficient. ace on his hearers; which have still the power, hen preached by a skilful orator, to make us eak out in the same expressions as the disciples ho met our Saviour in their way to Emmaus made e of; " Did not our hearts burn within us when talked to us by the way, and while he opened us the scriptures?" I may be thought bold in my dgment by some, but I must affirm that no one ator has left us so visible marks and footsteps his eloquence as our apostle. It may perhaps e wondered at that, in his reasonings upon idolay at Athens, where eloquence was born and floushed, he confines himself to strict argument only; at my reader may remember what many authors 7 the best credit have assured us, that all attempts pon the affections and strokes of oratory were xpressly forbidden by the laws of that country in ourts of judicature. His want of eloquence I shall only instance a remarkable passage, to erefore here was the effect of his exact confor- this purpose, out of Julian's Cæsars*. That em ity to the laws; but his discourse on the resurrec- peror having represented all the Roman emperors, on to the Corinthians, his harangue before Agrip- with Alexander the Great, as passing in review bea upon his own conversion, and the necessity of fore the gods, and striving for the superiority, lets at of others, are truly great, and may serve as full them all drop, excepting Alexander, Julius Cæsar, xamples to those excellent rules for the sublime, Augustus Cæsar, Trajan, Marcus Aurelius, and hich the best of critics has left us. The sum of Constantine. Each of these great heroes of antill this discourse is, that our clergy have no further quity lays in his claim for the upper place; and, in › look for an example of the perfection they may order to it, sets forth his actions after the most adrrive at than to St. Paul's harangues; that when vantageous manner. But the gods, instead of bee, under the want of several advantages of na-ing dazzled with the lustre of their actions, inquire ire, as he himself tells us, was heard, admired, nd made a standard to succeeding ages by the est judges of a different persuasion in religion; I y our clergy may learn that, however instructive heir sermons are, they are capable of receiving a reat addition; which St. Paul has given them a oble example of, and the Christian religion has urnished them with certain means of attaining to.' [DR. PEARCE, afterwards Bp. of Rochester.] N° 634. FRIDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1714. Ο ελάχις ων δεομενο εγιςα Θεων. The Christian religion requires that, after having framed the best idea we are able of the divine nature, it should be our next care to conform ourselves to it as far as our imperfections will permit. I might mention several passages in the sacred writings on this head, to which I might add many maxims and wise sayings of moral authors among the Greeks and Romans. by Mercury into the proper motive and governing principle that influenced them throughout the whole series of their lives and exploits. Alexander tells them that his aim was to conquer; Julius Cæsar, that his was to gain the highest post in his country; Augustus, to govern well; Trajan, that his was the same as that of Alexander, namely, to conquer. The question, at length, was put to Marcus Aurelius, who replied, with great modesty, that it had always been his care to imitate the gods. This conduct seems to have gained him the most votes and best place in the whole assembly. Marcus Aurelius, being afterwards asked to explain himself, declares, that, by imitating the gods, he endeavoured to imitate them in the use of his understanding and of all other faculties; and, in particular, that it was always his study to have as few wants as possible in himself, and to do all the good he could to others. Among the many methods by which revealed reT was the common boast of the heathen philoso-ligion has advanced morality, this is one, that it hers, that, by the efficacy of their several docrines, they made human nature resemble the diine. How much mistaken soever they might be in he several means they proposed for this end, it Just be owned that the design was great and glori has given us a more just and perfect idea of that Being whom every reasonable creature ought to imitate. The young man, in a heathen comedy, might ⚫ Spanheim, Les Cesars de L'Empereur Julien, 4to. 1728. justify his lewdness by the example of Jupiter; as, indeed, there was scarce any crime that might not be countenanced by those notions of the deity which prevailed among the common people in the heathen world. Revealed religion sets forth a proper object for imitation in that Being who is the pattern, as well as the source, of all spiritual perfection, While we remain in this life we are subject to innumerable temptations, which, if listened to, will make us deviate from reason and goodness, the only things wherein we can imitate the Supreme Being. In the next life we meet with nothing to excite our inclinations that doth not deserve them. I shall therefore dismiss my reader with this maxim, viz. Our happiness in this world proceeds from the suppression of our desires, but in the next world from the gratification of them. [The Author uncertain.] N° 635. MONDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1714. Sentio te sedem hominum ac domum contemplari; quæ I perceive you contemplate the seat and habitation of THE following essay comes from the ingenious author of the letter upon Novelty, printed in a late Spectator: the notions are drawn from the Platonic way of thinking; but, as they contribute to raise the mind, and may inspire noble sentiments of our own future grandeur and happiness, I think it well deserves to be presented to the pub lic. If the universe be the creature of an intelligent mind, this mind could have no immediate regard to himself in producing it. He needed not to make trial of his omnipotence to be informed what ef. fects were within its reach; the world, as existing in his eternal idea, was then as beautiful as now it is drawn forth into being; and in the immense abyss of his essence are contained far brighter scenes than will be ever set forth to view; it being impossible that the great Author of nature should bound his own power by giving existence to a system of creatures so perfect that he cannot improve upon it by any other exertions of his almighty will. Between finite and infinite there is an unmeasured interval not to be filled up in endless ages; for which reason the most excellent of all God's works must be equally short of what his power is able to produce as the most imperfect, and may be exceeded with the same ease. any created world can do: and that therefore, Thinking on this, I am obliged to believe, s justice to the Creator of the world, that there another state when man shall be better situated or contemplation, or rather have it in his power « remove from object to object, and from wond world; and be accommodated with seaseS, 434 other helps, for making the quickest and amazing discoveries. How doth such a zeris a Sir Isaac Newton, from amidst the darknes involves human understanding, break forth, an appear like one of another species! The vast chine we inhabit lies open to him; he seem E unacquainted with the general laws that g it; and while with the transport of a philosopart he beholds and admires the glorious work, ka capable of paying at once a more devost more rational homage to his Maker. But, how narrow is the prospect even of such a mand And how obscure, to the compass that is taset a by the ken of an angel, or of a soul but are escaped from its imprisonment in the body! F my part, I freely indulge my soul in the cocid=** of its future grandeur; it pleases me to th I, who know so small a portion of the works of the Creator, and with slow and painful steps my This thought hath made some imagine (what it up and down on the surface of this globe, sha, 177 must be confessed is not impossible) that the un-long shoot away with the swiftness of imaginans, fathomed space, is ever teeming with new births trace out the hidden springs of nature's operat the younger still inheriting a greater perfection be able to keep pace with the heavenly boda than the elder. But, as this doth not fall within the rapidity of their career, be a spectator of my present view, I shall content myself with long chain of events in the natural zad taking notice, that the consideration now men-worlds, visit the several apartments of the tioned proves undeniably, that the ideal worlds in tion, know how they are furnished and bree the Divine understanding yield a prospect incom-habited, comprehend the order, and meer * parably more ample, various, and delightful, than * X 626. magnitudes and distances of those orbs, |