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blemishes. After having thus treated at large of Paradise Lost, I could not think it sufficient to have celebrated this poem in the whole without descending to particulars. I have therefore bestowed a paper upon each book, and endeavored not only to prove that the poem is beautiful in general, but to point out its particular beauties: and, to determine wherein they consist. I have endeavored to show how some passages are beautiful by being sublime, others by being soft, others by being natural; which of them are recommended by the passion, which by the moral, which by the sentiment, and which by the expression. I have likewise endeavored to show how the genius of the poet shines by a happy invention, a distant allusion, or a judicious imitation; how he has copied or improved Homer or Virgil, and raised his own imaginations by the use which he has made of several poetical passages in Scripture. I might have inserted also several passages in Tasso, which our author has imitated: but, as I do not look upon Tasso to be a sufficient voucher, I would not perplex my reader with such quotations as might do more honor to the Italian than to the English poet. In short, I have endeavored to particularize those innumerable kinds of beauty which it would be tedious to recapitulate, but which are essential to poetry, and which may be met with in the works of this great author. Had I thought, at my first engaging in this design, that it would have led me to so great a length, I believe I should never have entered upon it; but the kind reception which it has met with among those whose judgment I have a value for, as well as the uncommon demands which my bookseller tells me have been made for these particular discourses, give me no reason to repent of the pains I have been at in composing them.-L.

No. 370.] MONDAY, MAY 5, 1712.
Totus Mundus agit histrionem.

-All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.

MANY of my fair readers, as well as very gay and well-received persons of the other sex, are extremely perplexed at the Latin sentences at the head of my speculations. I do not know whether I ought not to indulge them with translations of each of them: however, I have to-day taken down from the top of the stage in Drury-lane a bit of Latin which often stands in their view, and signifies, that "The whole world acts the player." It is certain that if we look all round us, and behold the different employments of mankind, you hardly see one who is not, as the player is, in an assumed character. The lawyer who is vehement and loud in the cause wherein he knows he has not the truth of the question on his side, is a player as to the personated part, but incomparably meaner than he as to the prostitution of himself or hire: because the pleader's falsehood introduces injustice; the player feigns for no other end out to divert or instruct you. The divine, whose passions transport him to say anything with any view but promoting the interests of true piety and eligion, is a player with a still greater imputaon of guilt, in proportion to his depreciating a haracter more sacred. Consider all the different suits and employments of men, and you will nd half their actions tend to nothing else but sguise and imposture; and all that is done which proceeds not from a man's very self, is the ction of a player. For this reason it is that I

make so frequent mention of the stage. It is with me a matter of the highest consideration, what parts are well or ill performed, what passions or sentiments are indulged or cultivated, and consequently what manners and customs are transfused from the stage to the world, which reciprocally imitate each other. As the writers of epic poems introduce shadowy persons, and represent vices and virtues under the characters of men and women; so I, who am a Spectator in the world, may perhaps sometimes make use of the names of the actors on the stage, to represent or admonish those who transact affairs in the world. When I am commending Wilks for representing the tenderness of a husband and a father in Macbeth, the contrition of a reformed prodigal in Harry the Fourth, the winning emptiness of a young man of good nature and wealth in The Trip to the Jubilee, the officiousness of an artful servant in the Fox; when thus I celebrate Wilks, I talk to all the world who are engaged in any of those circumstances. If I were to speak of merit neglected, misapplied, or misunderstood, might I not say Estcourt has a great capacity? But it is not the interest of others who bear a figure on the stage, that his talents were understood; it is their business to impose upon him, what cannot become him, or keep out of his hands anything in which he would shine. Were one to raise a suspicion of himself in a man who passes upon the world for a fine thing, in order to alarm him, one might say, If Lord Foppington was not on the stage (Cibber acts the false pretensions to a genteel behavior so very justly), he would have in the generality of mankind more that would admire than deride him. When we come to characters directly comical, it is not to be imagined what effect a well-regulated stage would have upon men's manners. The craft of a usurer, the absurdity of a rich fool, the awkward roughness of a fellow of half courage, the ungraceful mirth of a creature of half wit, might forever be put out of countenance by proper parts for Dogget. Johnson, by acting Corbacchio the other night, must have given all who saw him, a thorough detestation of aged avarice. The petulancy of a peevish old fellow, who loves and hates he knows not why, is very excellently performed by the ingenious Mr. William Penkethman in the Fop's Fortune; where, in the character of Don Choleric Snap Shorto de Testy, he answers no questions but to those whom he likes, and wants no account of anything from those he approves. Mr. Penkethman is also master of as many faces in the dumb scene as can be expected from a man in the circumstances of being ready to perish out of fear and hunger. He wonders throughout the whole scene very masterly, without neglecting his victuals. If it be, as I have heard it sometimes mentioned, a great qualification for the world to follow business and pleasure too, what is it in the ingenious Mr. Penkethman to represent a sense of pleasure and pain at the same time as you may see him do this evening?

As it is certain that a stage ought to be wholly suppressed, or judiciously encouraged, while there is one in the nation, men turned for regular pleasure cannot employ their thoughts more usefully, for the diversion of mankind, than by convincing them that it is in themselves to raise this entertainment to the greatest height. It would be a great improvement, as well as embellishment to the theater, if dancing were more regarded, and taught to all the actors. One who has the advantage of such an agreeable girlish person as Mrs. Bicknell, joined with her capacity of imitation, could in proper gesture and motion represent all

together a set of oglers as he called them, consisting of such as had an unlucky cast in their eyes. His diversion on this occasion was to see the cross bows, mistaken signs, and wrong connivances, that passed amid so many broken and refracted


the decent characters of female life. An amiable
modesty in one aspect of a dancer, and assumed
confidence in another, a sudden joy in another, a
falling-off with an impatience of being beheld, a
return toward the audience with an unsteady re-
solution to approach them, and a well-acted soli-rays of sight.
citude to please, would revive in the company all
the fine touches of mind raised in observing all
the objects of affection or passion they had before
beheld. Such elegant entertainments as these
would polish the town into judgment in their
gratifications; and delicacy in pleasure is the first
step people of condition take in reformation from
vice. Mrs. Bicknell has the only capacity for this
sort of dancing of any on the stage; and I dare
say all who see her performance to morrow-night,
when sure the romp will do her best for her own
benefit, will be of my mind.-T.

No. 371.] TUESDAY, MAY 6, 1712.
Jamne igitur laudas quod de sapientibus unus.
Juv., Sat. x, 28.
And shall the sage* your approbation win,
Whose laughing features wore a constant grin?

I SHALL Communicate to my readers the following letter for the entertainment of this day :"SIR,

"You know very well that our nation is more famous for that sort of men who are called 'whims' and humorists,' than any other country in the world: for which reason it is observed, that our English comedy excels that of all other nations in the novelty and variety of its characters.

Among those innumerable sets of whims which our country produces, there are none whom I have regarded with more curiosity than those who have invented any particular kind of diversion for the entertainment of themselves and their friends. My letter shall single out those who take delight in sorting a company that has something of burlesque and ridicule in its appearance. I shall make myself understood by the following example. One of the wits of the last age, who was a man of a good estate, thought he never laid out his money better than in a jest. As he was one year at the Bath, observing that, in the great confluence of fine people, there were several among them with long chins, a part of the visage by which he himself was very much distinguished, he invited to dinner half a score of these remarkable persons, who had their mouths in the middle of their faces. They had no sooner placed themselves about the table but they began to stare upon one another, not being able to imagine what had brought them together. Our Engfish proverb says,

'Tis merry in the hall, When beards wag all."

The third feast which this merry gentleman exhibited was to the stammerers, whom he got. together in a sufficient body to fill his table. He had ordered one of his servants, who was placed behind a screen, to write down their table-talk, which was very easy to be done without the help of short hand. It appears by the notes which were taken, that though their conversation never fell, there were not above twenty words spoten during the first course; that upon serving up the second, one of the company was a quarter of a hour in telling them that the ducklings and aspa ragus were very good; and that another took up the same time in declaring himself of the same opinion. The jest did not, however, go off so well as either of the former; for one of the guests being a brave man, and fuller of resentment than he knew how to express, went out of the room, and sent the facetious inviter a challenge in writ ing, which, though it was afterward dropped by the interposition of friends, put a stop to these ludicrous entertainments.

"Now, sir, I dare say you will agree with me, that as there is no moral in these jests, they ought to be discouraged, and looked upon rather as pieces of unluckiness than wit. However, as it is natural for one man to refine upon the thought of another; and impossible for any single person, how great soeve his parts may be, to invent an art, and bring it to its utmost perfection; I shall here give you an account of an honest gentleman of my acquaintance, who, upon hearing the character of the wit above-mentioned, has himself assumed it and e deavored to convert it to the benefit of mankind He invited half-a-dozen of his friends one day to dinner, who were each of them famous for insert ing several redundant phrases in their discourse, as D'ye hear me ?-D'ye see ?-That is,-And so, Sir.'. Each of his guests making frequent use of his particular elegance, appeared to ridi culous to his neighbor, that he could not but re flect upon himself as appearing equally ridiculous to the rest of the company. By this means, before they had sat long together, every one talking with the greatest circumspection, and carefully avoiding his favorite expletive, the conversation was cleared of its redundancies, and had a greate quantity of sense though less of sound in it.

their m

"The same well-meaning gentleman took sion, at another time, to bring together such of his friends as were addicted to a foolish habetal custom of swearing. In order to show them the absurdity of the practice, he had recourse to the invention above-mentioned, having placed an amanuensis in a private part of the room. Afer the second bottle, when men open ds without reserve, my honest friend began to take It proved so in the assembly I am now speaking notice of the many sonorous but unnecess of, who seeing so many peaks of faces agitated words that had passed in his house since that with eating, drinking, and discourse, and observ- sitting down at table, and how much good over ing all the chins that were present meeting toge-sation they had lost by giving way to such spe ther very often over the center of the table, every one grew sensible of the jest, and came into it with so much good humor, that they lived in strict friendship and alliance from that day forward.

The same gentieman, some time after, packed


fluous phrases. What a tax,' says he, they have raised for the poor, had we put the laws in execution upon one another! Every of them took this gentle reproof in good fa upon which he told them, that, knowing the conversation would have no secrets in it. he had ordered it to be taken down in writing, and for the humor-sake, would tead it to them, if they There were ten sheets of it, which might have been reduced to two, had there i

Villars, the last Duke of Buckingham, and father of the pleased. late Lady Mary Wortley Montague.

been those abominable interpolations I have before mentioned. Upon the reading of it in cold blood, it looked rather like a conference of fiends than of men. In short, every one trembled at himself upon hearing calmly what he had pronounced amidst the heat and inadvertency of is discourse.

case is so, I desire only you would entreat our people of quality, who are not to be interrupted in their pleasure, to think of the practice of any moral duty, that they would at least fine for their sins, and give something to these poor children: a little out of their luxury and superfluity would atone, in some measure, for the wanton use of the "I shall only mention another occasion wherein rest of their fortunes. It would not, methinks, be 1. he made use of the same invention to cure a dif- amiss, if the ladies who hunt the cloisters and ferent kind of men, who are the pests of all polite passages of the playhouses, were, upon every conversation, and murder time as much as either offense, obliged to pay to this excellent institution of the two former, though they do it more inno- of schools of charity. This method would make cently-I mean, that dull generation of story-tel-offenders themselves do service to the public. lers. My friend got together about half-a-dozen But in the meantime I desire you would publish of his acquaintance, who were infected with this this voluntary reparation which Mr. Powell does strange malady. The first day one of them, sit- our parish, for the noise he has made in it by the ing down, entered upon the siege of Namur, constant rattling of coaches, drums, trumpets, which lasted till four o'clock, their time of part triumphs, and battles. The destruction of Troy, ing. The second day a North Briton took posses- adorned with Highland dances, are to make up sion of the discourse, which it was impossible to the entertainment of all who are so well disposed get out of his hands so long as the company as not to forbear a light entertainment, for no stayed together. The third day was engrossed other reason but that it is to do a good action. after the same manner by a story of the same length. They at last began to reflect upon this barbarous way of treating one another, and by this means awakened out of that lethargy with which each of them had been seized for several years.

"As you have somewhere declared, that extraordinary and uncommon characters of mankind are the game which you delight in, and as I look upon you to be the greatest sportsman, or, if you please, the Nimrod among this species of writers, thought this discovery would not be unacceptable to you. "I am, sir," etc.


No. 372.] WEDNESDAY, MAY 7, 1712.
-Pudet hæc opprobria nobis
Et dici potuisse, et non potuisse refelli.
OVID, Met. i, 759.

To hear an open slander is a curse;
But not to find an answer is a worse.*-DRYDEN.


May 6, 1712. "I AM Sexton of the parish of Covent-garden, and complained to you some time ago, that as I was tolling into prayers at eleven in the morning, crowds of people of quality hastened to as semble at a puppet show on the other side of the garden. I had at the same time a very great disesteem for Mr. Powell, and his little thoughtless commonwealth, as if they had enticed the gentry into those wanderings: but let that be as it will, I now am convinced of the honest intentions of the said Mr. Powell and company and send this to acquaint you, that he has given all the profits which shall arise to-morrow night by his play to the use of the poor charity-children of this parish. I have been informed, sir, that in Holland all persons who set up any show, or act any stage-play, be the actors either of wood and wire, or flesh and blood, are obliged to pay out of their gains such a proportion to the honest and industrious poor in the neighborhood; by this means they make diversion and pleasure pay a tax to labor and industry. I have been told also, that all the time of Lent, in Roman Catholic countries, the persons of condition administer to the necessities of the poor, and attend the beds of lazars and diseased persons. Our protestant ladies and gentlemen are so much to seek for proper ways of passing time, that they are obliged to punchinello for knowing what to do with themselves. Since the

*In the original publication in folio, the motto is wanting.

"I am, sir, your most humble Servant,

"I am credibly informed, that all the insinua-
tions which a certain writer made against Mr.
Powell at the Bath, are false and groundless."

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My employment, which is that of a broker, leading me often into taverns about the Exchange, has given me occasion to observe a certain enormity, which I shall here submit to your animadversion. In three or four of these taverns, I have, at different times, taken notice of a precise set of people, with grave countenances, short wigs, black clothes, or dark camlet trimmed with black, and mourning gloves and hat-bands, who meet on certain days at each tavern successively, and keep a sort of moving club. Having often met with their faces, and observed a certain slinking way in their dropping in one after another, I had the curiosity to inquire into their characters, being the rather moved to it by their agreeing in the singularity of their dress; and I find, upon due examination, they are a knot of parish clerks, who have taken a fancy to one another, and perhaps settle the bills of mortality over their halfpints. I have so great a value and veneration for any who have but even an assenting Amen in the service of religion, that I am afraid lest these persons should incur some scandal by this practice; and would therefore have them, without raillery, advised to send the Florence and pullets home to their own houses, and not pretend to live as well as the overseers of the poor.


"I am, sir, your most humble Servant, HUMPHRY TRANSFER." May 6th.


"I was last Wednesday night at a tavern in the city, among a set of men who call themselves the lawyers' club. You must know, sir, this club consists only of attorneys; and at this meeting every one proposes the cause he has then in hand to the board, upon which each member gives his judgment according to the experience he has met with. If it happens that any one puts a case of which they have had no precedent, it is noted down by their clerk, Will Goosequill (who registers all their proceedings), that one of them may go the next day with it to a counsel. This indeed is commendable, and ought to be the principal end of their meeting; but had you been

there, to have heard them relate their methods of managing a cause, their manner of drawing out

their bills, and, in short, their arguments upon | For this reason a man truly modest is as much the several ways of abusing their clients, with the so when he is alone as in company, and as subject applause that is given to him who has done it to a blush in his closet as when the eyes of multimost artfully, you would before now have given tudes are upon him. your remarks on them. They are so conscious that their discourse ought to be kept a secret, that they are very cautious of admitting any person who is not of their profession. When any who are not of the law are let in, the person who introduces him says he is a very honest gentleman, and he is taken in, as their cant is, to pay costs. I am admitted upon the recommendation of one of their principals, as a very honest, good-natured fellow, that will never be in a plot, and only desires to drink his bottle and smoke his pipe. You have formerly remarked upon several sorts of clubs; and as the tendency of this is only to increase fraud and deceit, I hope you will please to take notice of it.

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No. 373.] THURSDAY, MAY 8, 1712. Fallit enim vitium specie virtutis et umbra. Juv., Sat. xiv, 109. Vice oft is hid in Virtue's fair disguise, And in her borrow'd form escapes inquiring eyes. MR. LOCKE, in his treatise of the Human Understanding, has spent two chapters upon the abuse of words. The first and palpable abuse of words, he says, is when they are used without clear and distinct ideas; the second, when we are so inconstant and unsteady in the application of them, that we sometimes use them to signify one idea, sometimes another. He adds, that the result of our contemplations and reasonings, while we have no precise ideas fixed to our words, must needs be very confused and absurd. To avoid this inconvenience, more especially in moral-discourses, where the same word should be constantly used in the same seuse, he earnestly recommends the use of definitions. A definition," says he, "is the only way whereby the precise meaning of moral words can be known." He therefore accuses those of great negligence who discourse of moral things with the least obscurity in the terms they make use of; since, upon the fore-mentioned ground, he does not scruple to say that he thinks morality is capable of demonstration, as well as

the mathematics."

I do not remember to have met with any instance of modesty with which I am so well pleased as that celebrated one of the young prince, whose father being a tributary king to the Romans, had several complaints laid against him be fore the senate, as a tyrant and oppressor of his subjects. The prince went to Rome to defend his father; but coming into the senate, and hearing a multitude of crimes proved upon him, was so oppressed when it came to his turn to speak, that be was unable to utter a word. The story tells us, that the fathers were more moved at this instance of modesty and ingenuity* than they could have been by the most pathetic oration, and, in short, pardoned the guilty father for this early promise of virtue in the son.

I take "assurance to be the faculty of possess ing a man's self, or of saying and doing indifferent things without any uneasiness or emotion in the mind." That which generally gives a man assu rance is a moderate knowledge of the world, but, above all, a mind fixed and determined in itself to do nothing against the rules of honor and decency. An open and assured behavior is the na tural consequence of such a resolution. A man thus armed, if his words or actions are at any time misrepresented, retires within himself, and from a consciousness of his own integrity, assumes force enough to despise the little censures of ignorance and malice.

Every one ought to cherish and encourage in himself the modesty and assurance I have here mentioned.

A man without assurance is liable to be made uneasy by the folly or ill-nature of every one he converses with. A man without modesty is lost to all sense of honor and virtue.

It is more than probable that the prince abovementioned possessed both these qualifications ins very eminent degree. Without assurance, he would never have undertaken to speak before the most august assembly in the world: without mo desty, he would have pleaded the cause he had taken upon him, though it had appeared ever so scandalous.

From what has been said, it is plain that mo desty and assurance are both amiable, and may I know no two words that have been more very well meet in the same person. When they abused by the different and wrong interpretations are thus mixed and blended together, they com which are put upon them, than these two, modesty pose what we endeavor to express when we say and assurance. To say such a one is a modest a modest assurance;" by which we understand man, sometimes indeed passes for a good charac- the just mean between bashfulness and impu ter; but at present is very often used to signify a dence. sheepish, awkward fellow, who has neither good breeding, politeness, nor any knowledge of the


Again, a man of assurance, though at first it only denoted a person of a free and open carriage, is now very usually applied to a profligate wretch, who can break through all the rules of decency and morality without a blush.

I shall endeavor, therefore, in this essay, to restore these words to their true meaning, to prevent the idea of modesty from being confounded with that of sheepishness, and to hinder impudence from passing for assurance.

If I was put to define modesty, I would call it "the reflection of an ingenious mind, either when a man has committed an action for which he censures himself, or fancies that he is exposed to

the censure of others."

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I shall conclude with observing, that as the same man may be modest and assured, so it is also possible for the same to be both impudent and bashful.

We have frequent instances of this odd kind of mixture in people of depraved minds and mea education, who, though they are not able to meet a man's eyes, or pronounce a sentence withert confusion, can voluntarily commit the greatest villanies or most indecent actions.


Such a person seems to have made a resolution to do ill even in spite of himself, and in defiance of all those checks and restraints his temper complexion seem to have laid in his way. Upon the whole, I would endeavor to establish this maxim, that the practice of virtue is the most proper method to give a man a becoming

*"Ingenuity" seems here to be used in the sense of “i


assurance in his words and actions. Guilt always seeks to shelter itself in one of the extremes and is sometimes attended with both.-X.

No. 374.] FRIDAY, MAY 9, 1712.
Nil actum reputans si quid superesset agendum.
LUCAN, ii, 57.

rather to keep his affairs in method, and capable of a clear review in case they should be examined by others, than that he built a renown upon any. thing that was past. I shall produce two fragments of his, to demonstrate that it was his rule of life to support himself rather by what he should perform, than what he had done already. In the tablet which he wore about him the same year in which he obtained the battle of Pharsalia, there were found these loose notes of his own conduct. It is supposed, by the circumstances they alluded to, that they might be set down the evening of the same night.

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My part is now but begun, and my glory must be sustained by the use I make of this victory, otherwise my loss will be greater than that of Pompey. Our personal reputation will rise or fall as we bear our respective fortunes. All my private enemies among the prisoners shall be spared. I will forget this, in order to obtain such another day. Trebutius is ashamed to see me; I will go to his tent, and be reconciled in private. Give all the men of honor, who take part with me, the terms I offered before the battle. Let them owe this to their friends who have been long in my interests. Power is weakened by the full use of it, but extended by moderation. Galbinius is proud, and will be servile in his present fortune: let him wait. Send for Stertinius: he is modest, and his virtue is worth gaining. I have cooled my heart with reflection, and am fit to rejoice with the army to-morrow. He is a popular general, who can expose himself like a private man during a battle; but he is more popular who can rejoice but like a private man after a victory."

He reckon'd not the past, while aught remain'd Great to be done, or mighty to be gain'd.-Rowe. THERE is a fault, which, though common, wants a name. It is the very contrary to procrastinanation. As we lose the present hour by delaying from day to day to execute what we ought to do immediately, so most of us take occasion to sit still and throw away the time in our possession by retrospect on what is past, imagining we have already acquitted ourselves, and established our characters in the sight of mankind. But when we thus put a value upon ourselves for what we have already done, any further than to explain ourselves in order to assist our future conduct, that will give us an overweening opinion of our merit, to the prejudice of our present industry. The great rule, methinks, should be, to manage the instant in which we stand, with fortitude, equanimity, and moderation, according to men's respective circumstances. If our past actions reproach us, they cannot be atoned for by our own severe reflections so effectually as by a contrary behavior. If they are praiseworthy, the memory of them is of no use but to act suitably to them. Thus a good present behavior is an implicit repentance for any miscarriage in what is past; but What is particularly proper for the example of present slackness will not make up for past acti- all who pretend to industry in the pursuit of hovity. Time has swallowed up all that we cotem- nor and virtue, is, that this hero was more than poraries did yesterday as irrevocably as it has ordinarily solicitous about his reputation, when a the actions of the antediluvians. But we are common mind would have thought itself in secuagain awake, and what shall we do to-day-to-rity, and given itself a loose to joy and triumph. day, which passes while we are yet speaking? Shall we remember the folly of last night, or resolve upon the exercise of virtue to-morrow? Last night is certainly gone, and to-morrow may never arrive. This instant make use of. Can you oblige any man of honor and virtue? Do it immediately. Can you visit a sick friend? Will it revive him to see you enter, and suspend your own ease and pleasure to comfort his weakness, and hear the impertinences of a wretch in pain? Do not stay to take coach, but be gone. Your mistress will bring sorrow, and your bottle madness. Go to neither-Such virtues and diversions as these are mentioned because they occur to all men. But every man is sufficiently convinced, that to suspend the use of the present moment, and resolve better for the future only, is an unpardonable folly. What I attempted to consider, was the mischief of setting such a value upon what is past, as to think we have done enough. Let a man have filled all the offices of life with the highest dignity till yesterday, and begin to live only to himself to-day, he must expect he will, in the effects upon his reputation, be considered as the man who died yesterday. The man who distinguishes himself from the rest, stands in a press of people those before him intercept his progress; and those behind him, if he does not urge on, will tread him down. Cæsar, of whom it was said that he thought nothing done while there was left anything for him to do, went on in performing the greatest exploits, without assuming to himself a privilege of taking rest upon the foundation of the merit of his former actions. It was the manner of that glorious captain to write down what scenes he had passed through; but it was

But though this is a very great instance of his temper, I must confess I am more taken with his reflections when he retired to his closet in some disturbance upon the repeated ill omens of Calphurnia's dream, the night before his death. The literal translation of that fragment shall conclude this paper.

"Be it so then. If I am to die to-morrow, that is what I am to do to-morrow. It will not be then, because I am willing it should be then; nor shall I escape it, because I am unwilling. It is in the gods when, but in myself how, I shall die. If Calphurnia's dreams are fumes of indigestion, how shall I behold the day after to-morrow! If they are from the gods, their admonition is not to prepare me to escape from their decree, but to meet it. I have lived a fullness of days and of glory: what is there that Cæsar has not done with as much honor as ancient heroes ?-Cæsar has not yet died! Cæsar is prepared to die."-T.

No. 375.] SATURDAY, MAY 10, 1712.
Non possidentem multa vocaveris
Recte beatum: rectius occupat
Nomen beati, qui deorum
Muneribus sapientur uti,
Duramque callet pauperiem pati,
Pejusque letho flagitium timet.

HOR. 4 Od. ix, 45.

We barbarously call them blest
Who are of largest tenements possest,
While swelling coffers break their owner's rest.
More truly happy those who can

Govern that little empire, man;

Who spend their treasure freely, as 't was giv'n
By the large bounty of indulgent Heav'n;

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