honor and reputation. Homer and Virgil intro- not remember that Homer any where falls into duced persons whose characters are commonly the faults above-mentioned, which were indeed known among men, and such as are to be met with the false refinements of latter ages. Milton, it either in history or in ordinary conversation. must be confessed, has sometimes erred in this Milton's characters, most of them, lie out of nature, respect, as I shall show more at large in another and were to be formed purely by his own inven- paper; though considering how all the poets of tion. It shows a greater genius in Shakspeare to the age in which he wrote were infected with this have drawn his Caliban, than his Hotspur, or wrong way of thinking, he is rather to be ad Julius Cæsar: the one was to be supplied out of mired that he did not give more into it, than that his own imagination, whereas the other might he did sometimes comply with the vicious taste have been formed upon tradition, history, and ob which still prevails so much among modern servation. It was much easier therefore for Ho-writers. mer to find proper sentiments for an assembly of Grecian generals, than for Milton to diversify his infernal council with proper characters, and inspires them with a variety of sentiments. The love of Dido and Eneas are only copies of what has passed between other persons. Adam and Eve, before the fall, are a different species from that of mankind, who are descended from them; and none but a poet of the most unbounded invention, and the most exquisite judgment, could have filled their conversation and behavior with so many apt circumstances during their state of innocence. But since several thoughts may be natural which are low and groveling, an epic poet should not only avoid such sentiments as are unnatural or affected, but also such as are mean and vulgar. Homer has opened a great field of raillery to men of more delicacy than greatness of genius by the homeliness of some of his sentiments. But as I have before said, these are rather to be imputed to the simplicity of the age in which he lived, to which I may also add, of that which he described, than to any imperfection in that divine poet. Zoilus among the ancients, and Monsieur Perrault among the moderns, pushed their ridicule Nor is it sufficient for an epic poem to be filled very far upon him, on account of some such sentiwith such thoughts as are natural, unless it abound ments. There is no blemish to be observed in Viralso with such as are sublime. Virgil in this par-gil under this head, and but a very few in Milton. ticular falls short of Homer. He has not indeed so many thoughts that are low and vulgar; but at the same time has not so many thoughts that are sublime and noble. The truth of it is, Virgil seldom rises into very astonishing sentiments, where he is not fired by the Iliad. He everywhere charms and pleases us by the force of his own genius; but seldom elevates and transports us where he does not fetch his hints from Homer. I shall give but one instance of this impropriety of thought in Homer, and at the same time compare it with ar. stance of the same nature, both in Virgil and Milton. Sentiments which raise laughter can very seldom be admitted with any decency into a heroic poem, whose business it is to excite passions of a much nobler nature. Homer, however, in his characters of Vulcan and Thersites, in his story of Mars and Venus, in his Milton's chief talent, and indeed his distinguish-behavior of Irus, and in other passages, has been ing excellence, lies in the sublimity of his thoughts. observed to have lapsed into the burlesque characThere are others of the moderns who rival him inter, and to have departed from that serious air every other part of poetry; but in the greatness of his sentiments he triumphs over all the poets, both modern and ancient, Homer only excepted. It is impossible for the imagination of man to distend itself with greater ideas, than those which he has laid together in his first, second, and sixth books. The seventh, which describes the creation of the world, is likewise wonderfully sublime, though not so apt to stir up emotion in the mind of the reader, nor consequently so perfect in the epic way of writing, because it is filled with less action. Let the judicious reader compare what Longinus has observed on several passages in Homer, and he will find parallels for most of them in the Paradise Lost. From what has been said we may infer, that as there are two kinds of sentiments, the natural and the sublime, which are always to be pursued in a heroic poem, there are also two kinds of thoughts which are carefully to be avoided. The first are such as are affected and unnatural; the second such as are mean and vulgar. As for the first kind of thoughts, we meet with little or nothing that is like them in Virgil. He has none of those trifling points and puerilities that are so often to be met with in Ovid, none of the epigrammatic turns of Lucan, none of those swelling sentiments which are so frequent in Statius and Claudian, none of those mixed embellishments of. Tasso. Everything is just and natural. His sentiments show that he had a perfect insight into human nature, and that he knew everything which was the most proper to affect it. Mr. Dryden has in some places, which I may hereafter take notice of, misrepresented Virgil's way of thinking as to this particular, in the translation he has given us of the Æneid. I do which seems essential to the magnificence of an epic poem. I remember but one laugh in the whole Æneid, which rises in the fifth book, upon Monotes, where he is represented as thrown overboard, and drying himself upon a rock. But this piece of mirth is so well-timed that the severest critic can have nothing to say against it; for it is the book of games and diversions, where the reader's mind may be supposed sufficiently relaxed for such an entertainment. The only piece of pleasantry in Paradise Lost, is where the evil spirits are described as rallying the angels upon the success of their newly-invented artillery. Thie passage I look upon to be the most exceptionable in the whole poem, as being nothing else but a string of puns, and those, too, very indifferent ones: -Satan beheld their plight, And to his mates thus in derision call'd: As they would dance; yet for a dance they seem'd To whom thus Belial in like gamesome mood: L. MILTON'S Par. Lost, b. vi, 1. 609, sta No. 280.] MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 1711-12. To please the great is not the smallest praise. CREECH. itself. The author of the sentence at the head of this paper, was an excellent judge of human life, and passed his own in company the most agreeable that ever was in the world. Augustus lived among his friends, as if he had his fortune to make in his own court. Candor and affability, THE desire of pleasing makes a man agreeable accompanied with as much power as ever mortal or unwelcome to those with whom he converses, was vested with, were what made him in the according to the motive from which that inclina- utmost manner agreeable among a set of admirable tion appears to flow. If your concern for pleas- men, who had thoughts too high for ambition, ing others arises from an innate benevolence, it and views too large to be gratified by what never fails of success; if from a vanity to excel, he could give them in the disposal of an emits disappointment is no less certain. What we pire, without the pleasures of their mutual concall an agreeable man, is he who is endowed with versation. A certain unanimity of taste and the natural bent to do acceptable things from a judgment, which is natural to all of the same delight he takes merely as such; and the affec- order in the species, was the band of this society: tation of that character is what constitutes a fop. and the emperor assumed no figure in it, but what Under these leaders one may draw up all those he thought was his due from his private talents who make any manner of figure, except in dumb- and qualifications, as they contributed to advance show. A rational and select conversation is com- the pleasures and sentiments of the company. posed of persons, who have the talent of pleasing Cunning people, hypocrites, all who are but half with delicacy of sentiments flowing from habitual virtuous, or half wise, are incapable of tasting the chastity of thought; but mixed company is fre- refined pleasure of such an equal company as quently made up of pretenders to mirth, and is could wholly exclude the regard of fortune in their usually pestered with constrained, obscene, and conversations. Horace, in the discourse from painful witticisms. Now and then you may meet whence I take the hint of the present speculation, with a man so exactly formed for pleasing, that it lays down excellent rules for conduct in converis no matter what he is doing or saying that is sation with men of power; but he speaks with an to say, that there need be no manner of impor-air of one who had no need of such an application tance in it, to make him gain upon everybody for anything which related to himself. It shows who hears or beholds him. This felicity is not he understood what it was to be a skillful courtier, the gift of nature only, but must be attended with by just admonitions against importunity, and happy circumstances, which add a dignity to the showing how forcible it was to speak modestly of familiar behavior which distinguishes him whom your own wants. There is, indeed, something we call an agreeable man. It is from this that so shameless in taking all opportunities to speak everybody loves and esteems Polycarpus. He is of your own affairs, that he who is guilty of it in the vigor of his age and the gayety of life, but toward him on whom he depends, fares like a has passed through very conspicuous scenes in it; beggar who exposes his sores, which, instead of though no soldier, he has shared the danger, and moving compassion, makes the man he begs of acted with great gallantry and generosity on a de- turn away from the object. cisive day of battle. To have those qualities which only make other men conspicuous in the world as it were supernumerary to him, is a circumstance which gives weight to his most indifferent actions for as a known credit is ready cash to a trader, so is acknowledged merit immediate distinction, and serves in the place of equipage to a gentleman. This renders Polycarpus graceful in mirth, important in business, and regarded with love, in every ordinary occurrence. But not to dwell upon characters which have such particular recommendation to our hearts, let us turn our thoughts rather to the methods of pleasing which must carry men through the world who cannot pretend to such advantages. Falling in with a particular humor or manner of one above you, abstracted from the general rules of good behavior, is the life of a slave. A parasite differs in nothing from the meanest servant, but that the footman hires himself for bodily labor, subjected to go and come at the will of his master, but the other gives up his very soul; he is prostituted to speak, and professes to think, after the mode of him whom he courts. This servitude to a patron, in an honest nature, would be more grievous than that of wearing his livery; therefore we shall speak of those things only which are worthy and ingenuous. The happy talent of pleasing either those above you or below you, seems to be wholly owing to the opinion they have of your sincerity. This quality is to attend the agreeable man in all the actions of his life; and I think there need no more be said in honor of it, than that it is what forces the approbation of your opponents. The guilty man has an honor for the judge who with justice pronounces against him the sentence of death I cannot tell what is become of him, but I remember about sixteen years ago an honest fellow, who so justly understood how disagreeable the mention or appearance of his want would make him, that I have often reflected upon him as a counterpart of Irus, whom I have formerly mentioned. This man, whom I have missed for some years in my walks, and have heard was some way employed about the army, made it a maxim, that good wigs, delicate linen, and a cheerful air, were to a poor dependent the same that working tools are to a poor artificer. It was no small entertainment to me, who knew his circumstances, to see him, who had fasted two days, attribute the thinness they told him of, to the violence of some gallantries he had lately been guilty of. The skillful dissembler carried on this with the utmost address; and if any suspected his affairs were narrow, it was attributed to indulging himself in some fashionable vice rather than an irreproachable poverty, which saved his credit with those on whom he depended. The main art is to be as little troublesome as you can, and make all you hope for come rather as a favor from your patron than claim from you. But I am here prating of what is the method of pleasing so as to succeed in the world, when there are crowds, who have in city, town, court, and country, arrived to considerable acquisitions, and yet seem incapable of acting in any constant tenor of life, but have gone on from one successful error to another: therefore I think I may shorten this inquiry after the method of pleasing; and as the old beau said to his son, once for all, "Pray, Jack, be a fine gentleman;" so may I to my reader, abridge my instructions, and finish the art of pleasing in a word, "Be rich."-T. No. 281.] TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 1711-12. | usually found in other hearts; insomuch that the Pectoribus inhians spirantia consulit exta. HAVING already given an account of the dissection of the beau's head, with the several discoveries made on that occasion; I shall here, according to my promise, enter upon the dissection of a coquette's heart, and communicate to the public such particularities as we observed in that curious piece of anatomy. I should perhaps have waved this undertaking, had I not been put in mind of my promise by several of my unknown correspondents, who are very importunate with me to make an example of the coquette, as I have already done of the beau. It is therefore in compliance with the request of my friends, that I have looked over the minutes of my former dream, in order to give the public an exact relation of it, which I shall enter upon without further preface. Our operator, before he engaged in this visionary dissection, told us, that there was nothing in his art more difficult than to lay open the heart of a coquette, by reason of the many labyrinths and recesses which to be found in it, and which do not appear in the heart of any other animal. whole heart was wound up together in a Gordian knot, and must have had very irregular and une qual motions, while it was employed in its vital function. One thing we thought very observable, namely, that upon examining all the vessels which came into it, or issued out of it, we could not discover any communication that it had with the tongue. We could not but take notice likewise, that several of those little nerves in the heart which are affected by the sentiments of love, hatred, and other passions, did not descend to this before us from the brain, but from the muscles which lie about the eye. Upon weighing the heart in my hand, I found it to be extremely light, and consequently very hollow, which I did not wonder at, when, upon looking into the inside of it, I saw multitudes of cells or cavities, running one within another as our historians describe the apartments of Rosamond's bower. Several of these little hollows were stuffed with innumerable sorts of trifles, which I shall forbear giving any particular account of, and shall therefore only take notice of what lay first and uppermost, which upon our un folding it, and applying our microscopes to it, appeared to be a flame-colored hood. one she We are informed that the lady of this heart, when living, received the addresses of several who made love to her, and did not only give each of them encouragement, but made every conversed with believe that she regarded him with an eye of kindness; for which reason we expected to have seen the impressions of multitudes of faces among the several plaits and foldings of the He desired us first of all to observe the pericardium, or outward case of the heart, which we did very attentively; and by the help of our glasses discerned in it millions of little scars, which seem to have been occasioned by the points of innumerable darts and arrows, that from time to time had glanced upon the outward coat; though we could not discover the smallest orifice, by which any of them had entered and pierced the inward sub-heart; but to our great surprise not a single print stance. Every smatterer in anatomy knows that this pericardium, or case of the heart, contains in it a thin reddish liquor, supposed to be bred from the vapors which exhale out of the heart, and being stopped here, are condensed into this watery substance. Upon examining this liquor, we found that it had in it all the qualities of that spirit which is made use of in the thermometer, to show the change of weather. of this nature discovered itself until we came into the very core and center of it. We there observed a little figure, which, upon applying our glasses to it, appeared dressed in a very fantastic manner. The more I looked upon it, the more I thought I had seen the face before, but could not possibly recollect either the place or time; when at length, one of the company, who had examined this figure more nicely than the rest, showed us plainly by the make of its face, and the several turns of its features, that the little idol which was thus lodged in the very middle of the heart was the deceased beau, whose head I gave some account of in my last Tuesday's paper. Nor must I here omit an experiment one of the company assured us he himself had made with this liquor, which he found in great quantity about the heart of a coquette whom he had formerly dissected. He affirmed to us, that he had As soon as we had finished our dissection, we actually inclosed it in a small tube made after the resolved to make an experiment of the heart, not manner of a weather-glass; but that instead of ac- being able to determine among ourselves the naquainting him with the variations of the atmos-ture of its substance, which differed in so many phere, it showed him the qualities of those persons who entered the room where it stood. He affirmed also, that it rose at the approach of a plume of feathers, an embroidered coat, or a pair of fringed gloves; and that it fell as soon as an ill-shaped periwig, a clumsy pair of shoes, or an unfashionable coat came into his house. Nay, he proceeded so far as to assure us, that upon his laughing aloud when he stood by it, the liquor mounted very sensibly, and immediately sunk again upon his looking serious. In short, he told us, that he knew very well, by this invention, whenever he had a man of sense or a coxcomb in his room. Having cleared away the pericardium, or the case, and liquor above-mentioned, we came to the heart itself. The outward surface of it was extremely slippery, and the mucro, or point, so very cold withal, that upon endeavoring to take hold of it, it glided through the fingers like a smooth piece of ice. The fibers were turned and twisted in a more intricate and perplexed manner than they are particulars from that of the heart in other females. Accordingly we laid it in a pan of burning coals, when we observed in it a certain salamandrine quality, that made it capable of living in the midst of fire and flame, without being consumed, or so much as singed. As we were admiring this strange phenomenon, and standing round the heart in a circle, it gave a most prodigious sigh, or rather crack, and dispersed all at once in smoke and vapor. This imaginary noise, which, methought, was louder than the burst of a cannon, produced such a violent shake in my brain, that it dissipated the fumes of sleep and left me in an instant broad awake.-L. No. 282] WEDNESDAY, JAN. 23, 1711-12. Spes incerta futuri.-VIRG., En. viii, 580. Hopes and fears in equal balance laid.-DRYDEN. Ir is a lamentable thing that every man is full of complaints, and constantly uttering sentences against the fickleness of fortune, when people generally bring upon themselves all the calamities they fall into, and are constantly heaping up matter for their own sorrow and disappointment. That which produces the greatest part of the delusions of mankind, is a false hope which people indulge with so sanguine a flattery to themselves, that their hearts are bent upon fantastical advantages which they have no reason to believe should ever have arrived to them. By this unjust mea sure of calculating their happiness, they often mourn with real affliction for imaginary losses. When I am talking of this unhappy way of accounting for ourselves, I cannot but reflect upon a particular set of people, who in their own favor, resolve everything that is possible into what is probable, and then reckon on that probability as on what must certainly happen. Will Honeycomb, upon my observing his looking on a lady with Some particular attention, gave me an account of the great distresses which had laid waste that very fine face, and had given an air of melancholy to a very agreeable person. That lady and a couple of sisters of hers, were, said Will, fourteen years ago, the greatest fortunes about town; but without having any loss, by bad tenants, by bad securities, or any damage by sea or land, are reduced to very narrow circumstances. They were at that time the most inaccessible, haughty beauties in town; and their pretensions to take upon them at that unmerciful rate, were raised upon the following scheme, according to which all their lovers were answered. Our father is a youngish man, but then our mother is somewhat older, and not likely to have any children: his estate being 8001. per annum, at twenty years' purchase, is worth 16,000l. Our uncle, who is above fifty, has 400l. per annum, which, at the aforesaid rate, is 8,000l. There is a widow aunt, who has 10,000l. at her own disposal, left by her husband, and an old maiden aunt who has 6,000l. Then our father's mother has 9001. per annum, which is worth 18,000l. and 1,000l. each of us has of our own, which cannot be taken from us. These summed up together stand thus: "Father's Uncle's Aunts'... ..... .800... .400. 16,000 ....900. Grandmother's passed their prime; and got on the wrong side of thirty; and must pass the remainder of their days, upbraiding mankind that they mind nothing but money, and bewailing that virtue, sense, and modesty, are had at present in no manner of estima tion. I mention this case of ladies before any other, because it is the most irreparable; for though youth is the time least capable of reflection, it is in that sex the only season in which they can advance their fortunes. But if we turn our thoughts to the men, we see such crowds unhappy, from no other reason than an ill-grounded hope, that it is hard to say which they rather deserve, our pity or contempt. It is not unpleasant to see a fellow, after growing old in attendance, and after having passed half a life in servitude, call himself the unhappiest of all men, and pretend to be disappointed, because a courtier broke his word. He that promises himself anything but what may naturally arise from his own property or labor, and goes beyond the desire of possessing above two parts in three even of that, lays up for himself an increasing heap of afflictions and disappointments. There are but two means in the world of gaining by other men, and these are by being either agreeable, or considerable. The generality of mankind do all things for their own sakes; and when you hope anything from persons above you, if you cannot say, "I can be thus agreeable, or thus serviceable," it is ridiculous to pretend to the dignity of being unfortunate when they leave you; you were injudicious in hoping for any other than to be neglected for such as can come within these descriptions of being capable to please or serve your patron, when his humor or interests call for their capacity either way. It would not, methinks, be a useless comparison between the condition of a man who shuns all the pleasures of life, and of one who makes it his business to pursue them. Hope in the recluse makes his austerities comfortable, while the luxu rious man gains nothing but uneasiness from his enjoyments. What is the difference in happiness of him who is macerated by abstinence, and his who is surfeited with excess? He who resigns the world has no temptation to envy, hatred, malice, anger, but is in constant possession of a se rene mind; he who follows the pleasures of it, which are in their very nature disappointing, is in constant search of care, solicitude, remorse, and confusion. 16,000 66 16,000 18,000 Total.....61,000 This, equally divided between us three, amounts to 20,000l. each: an allowance being given for an enlargement upon common fame, we may lawfully pass for 30,000l. fortunes." "I am a young woman, and have my fortune to make, for which reason I come constantly to church to hear divine service, and make conquests: but one great hinderance to my design is, that our clerk, who was once a gardener, has this Christmas so overdecked the church with greens, that he has quite spoiled my prospect; insomuch that I have searce seen the young baronet I dress at these three weeks, though we have both been very constant at our devotions, and do not sit above three pews off. The church, as it is now equipped, In prospect of this, and the knowledge of their looks more like a green-house than a place of worown personal merit, every one was contemptible ship. The middle aisle is a very pretty shady in their eyes, and they refused those offers which walk, and the pews look like so many arbors on had been frequently made them. But mark the each side of it. The pulpit itself has such clustend The mother dies, the father is married again ers of ivy, holly, and rosemary, about it, that a and has a son; on him was entailed the father's, light fellow in our pew took occasion to say, that uncle's, and grandmother's estate. This cut off the congregation heard the word out of a bush, 42,000l. The maiden aunt married a tall Irish-like Moses. Sir Anthony Love's pew in particuman, and with her went the 6,000l. The widow lar is so well hedged, that all my batteries have died, and left but enough to pay her debts and no effect. I am obliged to shoot at random among bury her; so that there remained for these three the boughs, without taking any manner of aim. girls but their own 1,000l. They had by this time Mr. Spectator, unless you will give orders for 348 emoving these greens, I shall grow a very awkward No. 283.] THURSDAY, JAN. 24, 1711-12. Magister artis ingenique largitor PERS, Prol., ver. 10. Necessity is the mother of invention. LUCIAN rallies the philosophers in his time, who could not agree whether they should admit riches into the number of real goods; the professors of the severer sects threw them quite out, while others as resolutely inserted them. I am apt to believe, that as the world grew more polite, the rigid doctrines of the first were wholly discarded; and I do not find any one so hardy at present as to deny that there are very great advantages in the enjoyment of a plentiful fortune. Indeed the best and wisest of men, though they may possibly despise a good part of those things which the world calls pleasures, can, I think, hardly be insensible of that weight and dignity which a moderate share of wealth adds to their characters, counsels, and actions. We find it a general complaint in professions and trades, that the richest members of them are chiefly encouraged, and this is falsely imputed to the ill-nature of mankind, who are ever bestowing their favors on such as least want them. Whereas if we fairly consider their proceedings in this case, we shall find them founded on undoubted reason: since, supposing both equal in their natural integrity, I ought in common prudence, to fear foul play from an indigent person, rather than from one whose circumstances seem to have placed him above the bare temptation of money. This reason also makes the commonwealth regard her richest subjects, as those who are most concerned for her quiet and interest, and consequently fittest to be intrusted with her highest employments. On the contrary, Catiline's saying to those men of desperate fortunes who applied themselves to him, and of whom he afterward composed his army, that they had nothing to hope for, but from a civil war, was too true not to make the impressions he desired. I believe I need not fear but that what I have said in praise of money, will be more than sufficient with most of my readers to excuse the subject of my present paper, which I intend as an essay on the ways to raise a man's fortune, or the art of growing rich. The first and most infallible method toward the attaining of this end is thrift. All men are not equally qualified for getting money, but it is in the power of every one alike to practice this virtue, and I believe there are very few persons who, if they please to reflect on their past lives, will not find that had they saved all those little sums which they have spent unnecessarily, they might at present have been masters of a competent fortune. Diligence justly claims the next place to thrift; I find both these excellently well recommended to common use in the three following Italian proverbs: Never do that by proxy which you can do yourself, A third instrument of growing rich is method in business, which, as well as the two former, is also attainable by persons of the meanest capacities. | The famous De Witt, one of the greatest states men of the age in which he lived, being asked by a friend how he was able to dispatch that multitude of affairs in which he was engaged? replied, that his whole art consisted in doing one thing at once. "If," says he, "I have any necessary dispatches to make, I think of nothing else until those are finished: if any domestic affairs require my attention, I give myself up wholly to them until they are set in order." In short, we often see men of dull and phlegmatic tempers arriving to great estates, by making a regular and orderly disposition of their business, and that without it the greatest parts and most lively imaginations rather puzzle their affairs, than bring them to a happy issue. From what has been said, I think I may lay it down as a maxim, that every man of good common sense may, if he please, in his particular station of life, most certainly be rich. The reason why we sometimes see that men of the greatest capacities are not so, is either because they despise wealth in comparison of something else; or at least are not content to be getting an estate, unless they may do it in their own way, and at the same time enjoy all the pleasures and gratifications of life. But beside these ordinary forms of growing rich, it must be allowed that there is room for genius as well in this as in all other circumstances of life. Though the ways of getting money were long since very numerous, and though so many new ones have been found out of late years, there is certainly still remaining so large a field for invention, that a man of an indifferent head might easily sit down and draw up such a plan for the conduct and support of his life, as was never yet once thought of. We daily see methods put in practice by hungry and ingenious men, which demonstrate the power of invention in this particular. It is reported of Scaramouch, the first famous Italian comedian, that being at Paris and in great want, he bethought himself of constantly plying near the door of a noted perfumer in that city, and when any one came out who had been buying snuff, never failed to desire a taste of them: when he had by this means got together a quantity made up of several different sorts, he sold it again at a lower rate to the same perfumer, who, "Tabac de mille finding out the trick, called it fleurs," or, "Snuff of a thousand flowers." The story further tells us, that by this means he got a very comfortable subsistence, until making too much haste to grow rich, he one day took such an unreasonable pinch out of the box of a Swiss officer, as engaged him in a quarrel, and obliged him to quit this ingenious way of life. Nor can I in this place omit doing justice to a youth of my own country, who though he is scarce yet twelve years old, has with great industry and I am credibly inapplication attained to the art of beating the gre nadier's march on his chin. formed that by this means he does not only maintain himself and his mother, but that he is laying up money every day, with a design, if the war continues, to purchase a drum at least, if not a pair of colors. I shall conclude these instances with the device of the fat..ous Rabelais, when he was at a great dis tance from Paris, and without money to bear his expenses thither. The ingenious author being thus sharp-set, got together a convenient quantity of brick-dust, and having disposed of it into several papers, wrote upon one, "Poison for monsieur;" upon a second, "Poison for the dauphin," and on |