is an hereafter, and I will not fear to be immortal for the sake of Athens.' This soliloquy is but the first dawnings of thought in the mind of a mere man given up to sensuality. The paper which I mention of our contemporary was found in his scrutoire after his death, but communicated to a friend or two of his in his life-time. You see in it a man wearied with the vanities of this life; and the reflections which the success of his wit and gallantry bring upon his old age, are not unworthy the observation of those who possess the like advantages. 'Oh, Almighty Being! How shall I look up towards thee, when I reflect that I am of no consideration but as I have offended? My existence, O my God, without thy mercy, is not to be prolonged in this or another world but for my punishment. I apprehend, oh, my Maker, let it not be too late: I apprehend, and tremble at thy presence; and shall I not consider thee, who art all goodness, but with terror? Oh, my Redeemer, do thou behold my anguish. Turn to me, thou Saviour of the world: Who has offended like me? Oh, my God, I cannot fly out of thy presence, let me fall down in it; I hum. ble myself in contrition of heart; but alas! I have not only swerved from thee, but have laboured against thee. If thou dost pardon what I have committed, how wilt thou pardon what I have made others commit? I have rejoiced in ill, as in a prosperity. Forgive, oh my God, all who have offended by my persuasion, all who have transgressed by iny example. Canst thou, O God, accept of the confession of old age, to expiate all the labour and industry of youth spent in transgressions against thee? While I am still alive, let me implore thee to recall to thy grace all whom I have made to sin. Let, oh Lord, thy goodness admit of his prayer for their pardon, by whose instigation they have transgressed. Accept, O God, of this interval of age, between my sinful days and the hour of my dissolution, to wear away the corrupt habits in my soul, and prepare myself for the mansions of purity and joy. Impute not to me, oh my God, the offences I may give, after my death, to those I leave behind me; let me not transgress when I am no more scen; but prevent the ill-effects of my ill-applied studies, and receive me into thy mercy. It is the most melancholy circumstance that can be imagined, to be on a death-bed, and wish all that a man has most laboured to bring to pass were obliterated for ever. How emphatically worse is this, than having passed all one's days in idleness! Yet this is the frequent case of many men of refined talents. It is, methinks, monstrous that the love of fame, and value of the fashion of the world, can transport a man so far as even in solitude to act with so little reflection upon his real interest. This is premedi tated madness, for it is an error done with the assistance of all the faculties of the mind. and communing together on such subjects, he expressed himself after this manner : It is unworthy a Christian philosopher to let any thing here below stand in the least competition with his duty. In vain is reason fortified by faith, if it produces in our practice no greater effects than what reason wrought in mere man. 'I contemn, (in dependence on the support of heaven I speak it) I contemn all which the generality of mankind call great and glorious. I will no longer think or act like a mortal, but consider myself as a being that commenced at my birth, and is to endure to all eternity. The accident of death will not end but improve my being; I will think of myself, and provide for myself as an immortal; and I will do nothing now which I do not believe I shall approve a thousand years hence.' No. 82.] Monday, June 15, 1713. Cedat uti conviva satur-Hor. Lib. 1. Sat. i. 119. THOUGH men see every day people go to their long home, who are younger than themselves, they are not so apt to be alarmed at that, as at the decease of those who have lived longer in their sight. They miss their acquaintance, and are surprised at the loss of an habitual object. This gave me so much concern for the death of Mr. William Peer of the theatre-royal, his theatrical degree with Betterton, Kynaston, who was an actor at the Restoration, and took and Harris. Though his station was humble, he performed it well; and the common compari son with the stage and human life, which has been so often made, may well be brought out upon this occasion. It is no matter, say the moralists, whether you act a prince or a beggar, the business is to do your part well. Mr. Wil liam Peer distinguished himself particularly in two characters, which no man ever could touch the prologue to the play, which is contrived in but himself; one of them, was the speaker of the tragedy of Hamlet, to awake the consciences of the guilty princes. Mr. William Peer spoke that preface to the play with such an air, as represented that he was an actor, and with such an interior manner as only acting an actor, us made the others on the stage appear real great persons, and not representatives. This was a nicety in acting that none but the most subtle player could so much as conceive. I remember his speaking these words, in which there is no great matter but in the right adjustment of the air of the speaker, with universal applause : For us and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently.' Hamlet says very archly upon the pronouncing of it, Is this a prologue, or a posy of a ring ? When every circumstance about us is a con- However, the speaking of it got Mr. Peer more stant admonition how transient is every labour reputation, than those who speak the length of of man, it should, methinks, be no hard matter a puritan's sermon every night will ever attain to bring one's self to consider the emptiness of to. Besides this, Mr. Peer got a great fame on our endeavours; but I was not a little charmed another little occasion. He played the apothecary the other day, when sitting with an old friend | in Caius Marius, as it is called by Otway; but Romeo and Juliet, as originally in Shakspeare; | did not a little contribute to the shortening it will be necessary to recite more out of the play than he spoke, to have a right conception of what Peer did in it. Marius, weary of life, recollects means to be rid of it after this manner: his days; and, as there is no state of real hap piness in this life, Mr. Peer was undone by his success, and lost all by arriving at what is the end of all other men's pursuits, his ease. I could not forbear inquiring into the effects Mr. Peer left behind him, but find there is no demand due to him from the house, but the fol lowing bill: For hire of six case of pistols, A drum for Mrs. Bignall in the Pil- A truss of straw for the madmen, When the apothecary objects that it is unlaw- For boarding a setting dog two days ful, Marius urges, 'Art thou so base and full of wretchedness to follow Mr. Johnson in Epsom For blood in Macbeth, Raisins and almonds for a witch's £ s ¿ 040 044 0 008 006 003 008 This contemporary of mine, whom I have Without all this quotation the reader could often rallied for the narrow compass of his sin not have a just idea of the visage and manner gular perfections, is now at peace, and wants which Peer assumed, when in the most lament-no further assistance from any man; but men able tone imaginable he consents; and deliver- of extensive genius, now living, still depend ing the poison, like a man reduced to the drink- upon the good offices of the town. ing it himself, if he did not vend it, says to Marius, My poverty, but not my will, consents; Take this and drink it off, the work is done.' this day, being the fifteenth of June, the PlotI am therefore to remind my reader, that on ting Sisters is to be acted for the benefit of the author, my old friend Mr. d'Urfey. This comedy was honoured with the presence of king Charles the Second three of its first five nights. It was an odd excellence, and a very particular circumstance this of Peer's, that his whole action of life depended upon speaking five lines My friend has in this work shown himself a better than any man clse in the world. But this master, and made not only the characters of the eminence lying in so narrow a compass, the play, but also the furniture of the house contrigovernors of the theatre observing his talents to bute to the main design. He has made excellie in a certain knowledge of propriety, and his lent use of a table with a carpet, and the key of person admitting him to shine only in the two a closet. With these two implements, which above parts, his sphere of action was enlarged would, perhaps, have been overlooked by an or by the addition of the post of property-man. dinary writer, he contrives the most natural This officer has always ready, in a place ap- perplexities (allowing only the use of these pointed for him behind the prompter, all such household goods in poetry) that ever were re tools and implements as are necessary in the presented on a stage. He has also made good play, and it is his business never to want billet. advantage of the knowledge of the stage itself; doux, poison, false money, thunderbolts, dag- for in the nick of being surprised, the lovers are gers, scrolls of parchment, wine, pomatum trun- let down and escape at a trap-door. In a word, cheons, and wooden legs, ready at the call of the any who have the curiosity to observe what said prompter, according as his respective uten-pleased in the last generation, and does not go sils were necessary for prompting what was to to a comedy with a resolution to be grave, will pass on the stage. The addition of this office, find this evening ample food for mirth. John. so important to the conduct of the whole affair son, who understands what he does as well as of the stage, and the good economy observed by any man, exposes the impertinence of an old their present managers in punctual payments, fellow, who has lost his senses, still pursuing made Mr. Peer's subsistence very comfortable. pleasures, with great mastery. The ingenious But it frequently happens, that men lose their Mr. Pinkethman is a bashful rake, and is sheepvirtue in prosperity, who were shining charac-ish without having modesty with great success, ters in the contrary condition. Good fortune Mr. Bullock succeeds Nokes in the part of indeed had no effect on the mind, but very much Bubble, and in my opinion is not much below on the body of Mr. Peer. For in the seventieth him: for he doos excellently that sort of folly year of his age he grew fat, which rendered his we call absurdity, which is the very contrary figure unfit for the utterance of the five lines of wit, but, next to that, is of all things the above-mentioned. He had now unfortunately properest to excite mirth. What is foolish is lost the wan distress necessary for the counte- the object of pity; but absurdity often proceeds nance of the apothecary, and was too jolly to from an opinion of sufficiency, and consequently speak the prologue with the proper humility. It is an honest occasion for laughter. These is thought this calamity went too near him. It characters in this play cannot choose but make raged or esteemed, merit the detestation and abhorrence of all honest men. And in the last place, I design to show, that under the pretence of advancing liberty and truth, they do in reality promote the two contrary evils. As to the first point, it has been observed that it is the duty of each particular person to aim at the happiness of his fellow-creatures; and that as this view is of a wider or narrower extent, it argues a mind more or less virtuous. Hence it follows, that a liberty of doing good actions which conduce to the felicity of mankind, and a knowledge of such truths as might either give us pleasure in the contemplation of them, or direct our conduct to the great ends of life, are valuable perfections. But shall a good man, therefore, prefer a liberty to commit murder or adultery, before the wholesome restraint of divine and human laws? Or shall a wise man prefer the knowledge of a troublesome and afflicting truth, before a pleasant error that would cheer his soul with joy and comfort, and be attended with no ill consequences? Surely no man of common sense would thank him, who had put it in his power to execute the sudden suggestions of a fit of passion or madness, or imagine himself obliged to a person, who, by forwardly informing him of ill news, had caused his soul to anticipate that sorrow which she would never have felt so long as the ungrateful truth lay concealed. THERE is a restless endeavour in the mind of man after happiness. This appetite is wrought into the original frame of our nature, and excrts itself in all parts of the creation that are endued with any degree of thought or sense. But as the human mind is dignified by a more comprehensive faculty than can be found in the inferior animals, it is natural for men not only to have an eye, each to his own happiness, but also to endeavour to promote that of others in the same rank of being: and in proportion to the generosity that is ingredient in the temper of the soul, the object of its benevolence is of a larger and narrower extent. There is hardly a spirit upon earth so mean and contracted, as to centre all regards on its own interest, exclusive of the rest of mankind. Even the Let us then respect the happiness of our. selfish man has some share of love, which he species, and in this light examine the proceed. bestows on his family and his friends. A noblerings of the free-thinkers. From what giants and mind hath at heart the common interest of the society or country of which he makes a part. And there is still a more diffusive spirit, whose being or intentions reach the whole mass of mankind, and are continued beyond the present age to a succession of future generations. monsters would these knight-errants undertake to free the world? From the tics that religion imposeth on our minds, from the expectation of a future judgment, and from the terrors of a troubled conscience, not by reforming men's lives, but by giving encouragement to their vices. What are those important truths of which they would convince mankind? That there is no such thing as a wise and just Providence; that the mind of man is corporeal; that religion is a state trick, contrived to make men honest and virtuous, and to procure a subsistence to others for teaching and exhorting them to be so; that the good tidings of life and immortality, brought to light by the gospel, are fables and impostures; from believing that we are made in the image of God, they would de The advantage arising to him who hath a tincture of this generosity on his soul, is, that he is affected with a sublimer joy than can be comprehended by one who is destitute of that noble relish. The happiness of the rest of mankind hath a natural connexion with that of a reasonable mind. And in proportion as the actions of each individual contribute to this end, he must be thought to deserve well or ill, both of the world, and of himself. I have in a late paper observed, that men who have no reach of thought do often misplace their affec-grade us to an opinion that we are on a lovel tions on the means, without respect to the end; and by a preposterous desire of things in themselves indifferent, forego the enjoyment of that happiness which those things are instrumental to obtain. This observation has been considered with regard to critics and misers; I shall now apply it to free-thinkers. Liberty and truth are the main points which these gentlemen pretend to have in view; to proceed, therefore, methodically, I will endea Your to show in the first place, that liberty and truth are not in themselves desirable, but only as they relate to a farther end. And secondly, that the sort of liberty and truth (allowing thein those names) which our free-thinkers use all their industry to promote, is destructive of that end, viz. human happiness: and consequently that species, as such, instead of being encou with the beasts that perish. What pleasure or what advantage do these notions bring to mankind. Is it of any use to the public that good men should lose the comfortable prospect of a reward to their virtue; or the wicked be encouraged to persist in their impiety, from an assurance that they shall not be punished for it hereafter? Allowing, therefore, these men to be patrons of liberty and truth, yet it is of such truths, and that sort of liberty, which makes them justly be looked upon as enemies to the peace and happiness of the world. But upon a thorough and impartial view it will be found, that their endeavours, instead of advancing the cause of liberty and truth, tend only to introduce slavery and error among men. There are two parts in our nature: the baser, which consists of our senses and passions, and the more noble and rational, which is properly the human part, the other being common to us with brutes. The inferior part is generally much stronger, and has always the start of reason, which if in the perpetual struggle between them, it were not aided from heaven by religion, would almost universally be vanquished, and man become a slave to his passions, which, as it is the most grievous and shameful slavery, so it is the genuine result of that liberty which is proposed by overturning religion. Nor is the other part of their design better executed. Look into their pretended truths: are they not so many wretched absurdities, maintained in opposition to the light of nature and divine revelation by sly inuendoes and cold jests, by such pitiful sophisms and such confused and indigested notions, that one would vehemently suspect those men usurped the name of free-thinkers with the same view that hypocrites do that of godliness, that it may serve for a cloak to cover the contrary defect? her majesty's spruce and loving subjects, and that is a humour they have got of twisting of your buttons. These ingenious gentlemen are not able to advance three words until they have got fast hold of one of your buttons; but as soon as they have procured such an excellent handle for discourse, they will indeed proceed with great elocution. I know not how well some may have escaped, but for my part I have often met with them to my cost; having I be. lieve, within these three years last past been argued out of several dozens; insomuch, that I have, for some time, ordered my tailor to bring me home with every suit a dozen at least of spare ones, to supply the place of such as from time to time are detached as a help to discourse, by the vehement gentlemen beforementioned. This way of holding a man in discourse, is much practised in the coffee-houses within the city, and does not indeed so much prevail at the politer end of the town. It is likewise more frequently made use of among the small politicians, than any other body of men; I am therefore something cautious of en tering into a controversy with this species of statesmen, especially the younger fry; for if you offer in the least to dissent from any thing that one of these advances, he immediately steps up to you, takes hold of one of your but tons, and indeed will soon convince you of the strength of his argumentation. I remember, upon the news of Dunkirk's being delivered I shall close this discourse with a parallel reflection on these three species, who seem to be allied by a certain agreement in mediocrity of understanding. A critic is entirely given up to the pursuit of learning; when he has got it, is his judgment clearer, his imagination livelier, or his manners more polite than those of other men? Is it observed that a miser, when he has acquired his superfluous estate, eats, drinks, or sleeps with more satisfaction, that he has a cheerfuller mind, or relishes any of the enjoy-into our hands, a brisk little fellow, a politician ments of life better than his neighbours? The free-thinkers plead hard for a licence to think freely; they have it: but what use do they make of it? Are they eminent for any sublime discoveries in any of the arts and sciences? Have they been authors of any inventions that conduce to the well-being of mankind? Do their writings show a greater depth of design, a clearer method, or more just and correct rea-him, full as strong both by sea and land as Dunsoning than those of other men? To the Honoured Nestor Ironside, Esq. 'Middle Temple, June 12. 'SIR,-Fresuming you may sometimes condescend to take cognizance of small enormities, I here lay one before you, which I proceed to without farther apology, as well knowing the best compliment to a man of business is to come to the point. There is a silly habit among many of our minor orators, who display their eloquence in the several coffee-houses of this fair city, to the no small annoyance of considerable numbers of and an able engineer, had got into the middle of Batson's coffee-house, and was fortifying Graveling for the service of the most Christian king, with all imaginable expedition. The work was carried on with such success, that in less than a quarter of an hour's time, he had made it almost impregnable, and in the opinion of se veral worthy citizens who had gathered round kirk ever could pretend to be. I happened, however, unadvisedly to attack some of his catworks; upon which, to show his great skill likewise in the offensive part, he immediately made an assault upon one of my buttons, and carried it in less than two minutes, notwithstanding I made as handsome a defence as was possible. He had likewise invested a second, and would certainly have been master of that too in a very little time, had not he been diverted from this enterprise by the arrival of a coarier, who brought advice that his presence was absolutely necessary in the disposal of a beaver,* upon which he raised the siege, and indeed retired with some precipitation. In the coffeehouses here about the Temple, you may ha rangue even among our dabblers in politics for about two buttons a day, and many times for less. I had yesterday the good fortune to receive very considerable additions to my knowledge in state affairs, and I find this morning, that it has not stood me in above a button. In most of the eminent coffee-houses at the other The person here alluded to was a Mr. James Heywood, a linen draper, who was the writer of a letter in the Spectator, signed James Easy. end of the town, for example, to go no farther than Will's in Covent-garden, the company is so refined, that you may hear and be heard, and not be a button the worse for it. Besides the gentlemen before-mentioned, there are others who are no less active in their harangues, but with gentle services rather than robberies. These, while they are improving your understanding, are at the same time setting off your person; they will new-plait and adjust your neckcloth. ་ But though I can bear with this kind of orator, who is so humble as to aim at the goodwill of his hearer by being his valet de chambre, I must rebel against another sort of them. There are some, sir, that do not stick to take a man by the collar when they have a mind to persuade him. It is your business, I humbly presume, Mr. Ironside, to interpose that a man is not brought over to his opponent by force of arms. It were requisite therefore that you should name a certain interval, which ought to be preserved between the speaker and him to whom he speaks. For sure no man has a right, because I am not of his opinion, to take any of my clothes from me, or dress me according to his own liking. I assure you the most becoming thing to me in the world is in a campaign periwig, to wear one side before and the other cast upon the collateral shoulder. But there is a friend of mine who never talks to me but he throws that which I wear forward, upon my shoulder, so that in restoring it to its place I lose two or three hairs out of the lock upon my buttons; though I never touched him in my whole life, and have been acquainted with him these ten years. I have seen my eager friend in danger sometimes of a quarrel by this ill custom, for there are more young gentlemen who can feel, than can understand. It would be therefore a good office to my good friend if you advised him not to collar any man but one who knows what he means, and give it him as a standing precaution in conversation, that none but a very good friend will give him the liberty of being seen, felt, heard, and understood all at once. I am, sir, your most humble servant, 'JOHANNES MISOCHIROSOPHUS. P.S. I have a sister who saves herself from being handled by one of these manual rhetoricians by giving him her fan to play with; but I appeal to you in the behalf of us poor helpless men.' June 15, 1713. I am of opinion, that no orator or speaker in public or private has any right to meddle with any body's clothes but his own. I indulge men in the liberty of playing with their own hats, fumbling in their own pockets, settling their own periwigs, tossing or twisting their heads, and all other gesticulations which may contribute to their elocution; but pronounce it an infringement of the English liberty, for a man to keep his neighbour's person in custody in order to force a hearing; and farther declare, that all assent given by an auditor under such constraint, is of itself void and of no effect. NESTOR IRONSIDE. To suffer scandal (says somebody) is the tax which every person of merit pays to the public; and my lord Verulam finely observes, that a man who has no virtue in himself, ever envies virtue in others. I know not how it comes to pass, but detraction, through all ages, has been found a vice which the fair sex too easily give in to. Not the Roman satirist could use them with more severity than they themselves do one another. Some audacious critics, in my opinion, have launched out a little too far when they take upon them to prove, in opposition to history, that Lais was a woman of as much virtue as beauty, which violently displeasing the Phrynes of those times, they secretly prevailed with the historians to deliver her down to posterity under the infamous character of an extorting prostitute. But though I have the greatest regard imaginable to that softer species, yet am I sorry to find they have very little for themselves. So far are they from being tender of one another's reputation, that they take a malicious pleasure in destroying it. My lady the other day, when Jack was asking, who could be so base to spread such a report about Mrs. answered, None, you may be sure, but a woman.' A little after, Dick told my lady, that he had heard Florella hint as if Cleora wore artificial teeth. The reason is, said she, because Cleora first gave out that Florella owed her complexion to a wash. Thus the industrious pretty creatures take pains by invention, to throw blemishes on each other, when they do not consider that there is a profligate set of fellows too ready to taint the character of the virtuous, or blast the charms of the blooming virgin. The young lady from whom I had the honour of receiving the following letter, deserves or rather claims, protection from our sex, since so barbarously treated by her own. Certainly they ought to defend innocence from injury who gave ignorantly the occasion of its being assaulted. Had the men been less liberal of their applauses, the women had been more sparing of these calumnious censures. To the Guardian. 'SIR, I do not know at what nice point you fix the bloom of a young lady; but I am one who can just look back upon fifteen. My father dying three years ago, left me under the care and direction of my mother, with a fortune not profusely great, yet such as might demand a very handsome settlement, if ever proposals of marriage should be offered. My mother, after the usual time of retired mourning was over, was so affectionately indulgent to me, as to take me along with her in all her visits; but still not thinking she gratified my youth enough, permitted me further to go with my relations to all the public, cheerful, but innocent entertain |