,,the ,,young ,,gentleman ,,and ,,lady's
    ,,monitor1    ,,and    ,,english    
,,teacher's    ,,assistant3    ,,being  
,a ,,collection ,,of ,,select ,,pieces  
,,from ,,our ,,best ,,modern ,,writers2 
,,calculated ,,to    ,eradicate vulgar  
,prejudices and ,rusticity of ,manners2 
,improve the  ,understanding2 ,rectify  
the ,will2 ,purify the ,passions2       
,direct the ,minds  of ,youth to the    
,pursuit of proper ,objects2 and to     
facilitate their  ,reading1 ,writing1   
and ,speaking the ,english language1    
with ,elegance and  ,propriety4         
,particularly adapted for the use of our
 eminent ,schools and ,academies1  as   
well as private persons1 who have not an
 opportunity of perusing the  ,works of 
those celebrated ,authors1 from whence  
this collection is made4    ,,divided   
,,into ,,small ,,portions1 ,,for ,,the  
,,ease ,,of ,,reading ,,in ,,classes4   
,,the ,,latest ,,edition4    ,,by ,j4   
,,hamilton ,,moore1    ,,author ,,of    
,,the ,,practical ,,navigator ,,and     

,,seaman',s ,,new ,,daily ,,assistant4  
#ahjb4          ,,preface4    ,as the   
design of ,learning is to render persons
 agreeable companions to  themselves1   
and useful members of society2 to       
support solitude with  pleasure1 and to 
pass through promiscuous temptations    
with prudence2  'tis presumed1 this     
compilation will not be unacceptable2   
being composed  of pieces selected from 
the most celebrated moral writers in the
 ,english  language1 equally calculated 
to promote the principles of religion1  
and  to render youth vigilant in        
discharging1 the social and relative    
duties  in the several stations of life2
 by instilling into their minds such    
maxims of virtue and good-breeding1 as  
tend to eradicate local  prejudices and 
rusticity of manners2 and at the same   
time1 habituate  them to an elegant     
manner of expressing themselves either  
in ,writing or  ,speaking4    ,and as   
the first impression made on the minds  
of youth is the most  lasting1 great    

care should be taken to furnish them    
with such seeds of  reason and          
philosophy as may rectify and sweeten   
every part of their  future lives2 by   
marking out a proper behaviour both with
 respect to  themselves and others1 and 
exhibiting every virtue to their view   
which  claims their attention1 and every
 vice which they ought to avoid4        
,instead of this1 we generally see youth
 suffered to read romances1 which       
impress on their minds such notions of  
,fairies1 ,goblins1 c4 that exist  only 
in the imagination1 and1 being strongly 
imbibed1 take much time to  eradicate1  
and very often baffle all the powers of 
philosophy4 ,if books  abounding with   
moral instructions1 conveyed in a proper
 manner1 were  given in their stead1 the
 frequent reading of them would implant 
in  their mind such ideas and           
sentiments1 as would enable them to     
guard  against those prejudices so      
frequently met with amongst the         
ignorant4    ,nor is it possible that   

any person can speak or write with      
elegance and  propriety1 who has not    
been taught to read well1 and in such   
books where  the sentiments are just and
 the language pure4    ,an insipid      
flatness and languor is almost the      
universal fault in  reading2 often      
uttering their words so faint and       
feeble1 that they  appear neither to    
feel nor understand what they read1 nor 
have any  desire it should be understood
 or felt by others4 ,in order to acquire
 a  forcible manner of pronouncing      
words1 let the pupils inure themselves1 
while reading1 to draw in as much air as
 their lungs can contain with  ease1 and
 to expel it with vehemence in uttering 
those sounds which  require an          
emphatical pronunciation1 and read aloud
 with all the  exertion they can        
command2 let all the consonant sounds be
 expressed  with a full impulse of the  
breath1 and a forcible action of the    
organs  employed in forming them2 and   
all the vowel sounds have a full and    

bold  utterance4    ,these reasons1 and 
to inspire youth with noble sentiments1 
just  expression1 to ease the teacher1  
and to render a book cheap1 and         
convenient for schools1 as well as      
private persons1 who have neither  time 
nor opportunity to peruse the works of  
those celebrated authors  from whence   
this ,collection is made1 was the cause 
of the following  compilation4    ,and  
as the speeches in both houses of       
parliament1 pleading at the bar1        
instructions in the pulpit1 and         
commercial correspondance1 are delivered
  and carried on in the ,english        
language2 the cloathing our thoughts    
with  proper expressions1 and conveying 
our ideas1 either in writing or         
speaking1 agreeably1 cannot fail of     
making an impression upon the hearer  or
 reader4 ,for a man's knowledge is of   
little use to the world1 when he  is not
 able to convey it properly to others2  
which is the case of many  who are      
endowed with excellent parts1 but are   

either afraid or ashamed  of writing1 or
 speaking in public1 being conscious of 
their own  deficiency of expressing     
themselves in proper terms4    ,in order
 to remedy these defects1 and to ease   
the teacher1 ,i would  advise1 that     
several young gentlemen read in a class1
 each a sentence in  this book1 7it     
being divided into small portions for   
that purpose17 as  often as convenient3 
and let him who reads best1 be advanced 
to the  head1 or have some pecuniary    
reward2 and every inferior one according
 to  his merit2 this will create        
emulation among them1 and facilitate    
their  improvement much more than       
threats or corrections1 which stupifies 
and  intimidates them1 and often ends in
 contempt of their teachers1 and        
learning in general4 ,this will draw    
forth those latent abilities1 which     
otherwise might lie dormant forever4    
,it may not be improper for the teacher1
 or some good reader1 to read a         
sentence or two first1 that the learners

 may gain the proper emphasis1  and read
 without that monotony so painful to a  
good ear3 for they will  improve more by
 imitating a good reader1 than any rules
 that can be laid  down to them4 ,when  
they come to read gracefully1 let them  
stand up in  the school and read aloud1 
in order to take off that bashfulness   
generally attending those who are called
 upon either to read or speak in        
public4    ,the next thing ,i would     
recommend1 is the ,english ,grammar 7the
 best ,i  know of is the ,buchanan's    
syntax7 the knowledge of which is       
absolutely  necessary1 as it is the     
solid foundation upon which all other   
science  rests4 ,after they have run    
over the rules of syntax1 the teacher   
may  dictate to them one or more        
sentences in false ,english1 which they 
may  correct by their grammar rules1 and
 also find out the various              
significations of each word in the      
dictionary2 by which means they will    
soon acquire a copious vocabulary1 and  

become acquainted not with words  only1 
but with things themselves4 ,let them   
get those sentences by heart  to speak  
extempore2 which will in some measure1  
be delivering their own  compositions1  
and may be repeated as often as         
convenient4 ,this will soon  give the   
young gentlemen an idea of the force1   
elegance1 and beauty of  the ,english   
language4    ,the next thing ,i would   
gladly recommend1 is that of            
letter-writing1 a  branch of education1 
which seems to me of the utmost utility1
 and in  which most of our youth are    
deficient at their leaving school2 being
  suffered to form their own style by   
chance3 or imitate the first  wretched  
model that falls in their way1 before   
they know what is faulty1  or can relish
 the beauties of a just simplicity4     
,for their improvement in this          
particular1 the teacher may cause every 
young gentleman to have a slate or paper
 before him1 on ,saturdays1 and  then   
dictate a letter to them1 either of his 

own composition1 or taken  out of some  
book1 and turn it into false ,english1  
to exercise them in  the grammar rules  
if he thinks proper1 which they shall   
all write down1  and then correct and   
transcribe it fairly in their books4    
,after the young gentlemen have been    
accustomed to this some time1 a         
supposed correspondence may be fixt     
between every two of them1 and  write to
 one another under the inspection of the
 teacher who may correct  and shew their
 faults when he sees occasion2 by such a
 method he will  soon find them improve 
in epistolary writing4 ,the same may be 
observed  with regard to young ladies1  
who are very often deficient1 not only  
in  orthography1 but every other part of
 grammar4    ,if something similar to   
this method be pursued1 it will soon    
reflect  honor on the teacher1 give the 
highest satisfaction to judicious       
parents1 and entail upon the scholar a  
pleasing and lasting advantage4    ,,the
 ,,editor4          ,,contents4         

,pursuit of ,knowledge recommended to   
,youth1    ,directions how to spend our 
,time1    ,mispent ,time how punished1  
,modesty1    ,affectation1    ,the same 
continued1    ,good humour and ,nature1 
,friendship1    ,detraction and         
,falshood1    ,the ,importance of       
,punctuality1    ,exercise and          
,temperance the best ,preservative of   
,health1    ,the ,duty of ,secrecy1     
,of ,cheerfulness1    ,on the           
,advantages of a ,cheerful ,temper1     
,discretion1    ,pride1    ,drunkenness1
    ,gaming1    ,whisperers and ,giglers
 complained of1    ,beauty produced by  
,sentiments1    ,honour1    ,human      
,nature1    ,the ,advantages of         
representing ,human ,nature in its      
proper ,dignity1    ,custom a second    
,nature1    ,on ,cleanliness1    ,the   
,advantages of a good ,education1       
,the ,disadvantages of a bad ,education1
    ,learning a necessary               
,accomplishment in a ,woman of ,quality 
or ,fortune1    ,on the ,absurdity of   

,omens1    ,a good ,conscience1 c4      
,on ,contentment1    ,human ,miseries   
chiefly imaginary1    ,a ,life of       
,virtue preferable to a ,life of        
,pleasure1    ,virtue rewarded1    ,the 
,history of ,amanda1    ,the ,story of  
,abdallah and ,balsora1    ,rashness and
 ,cowardice1    ,fortitude founded upon 
the ,fear of ,god1    ,the ,folly of    
youthful ,extravagance1    ,the ,misery 
of depending upon the ,great1    ,what  
it is to see the ,world1    ,the ,story 
of ,melissa1    ,on the ,omniscience and
 ,omnipresence of the ,deity1 together  
with the        ,immensity of his       
,works1    ,motives to ,piety and       
,virtue1 drawn from the ,omniscience and
        ,omnipresence of the ,deity1    
,reflections on the third ,heaven1      
,the present ,life to be considered only
 as it may conduce to the               
,happiness of a future one1    ,on the  
,immortality of the ,soul1    ,on the   
,animal ,world1 and the ,scale of       
,beings1    ,providence proved from     

,animal instinct1    ,good-,breeding1   
,further ,remarks1 taken from ,lord     
,chesterfield's ,letters to his ,son1   
,genteel ,carriage1    ,cleanliness of  
,person1    ,dress1    ,elegance of     
,expression1    ,small ,talk1           
,observation1    ,absence of ,mind1     
,knowledge of the ,world1    ,choice of 
,company1    ,laughter1    ,sundry      
little ,accomplishments1    ,dignity of 
,manners1    ,rules for ,conversation1  
,further ,remarks1 taken from ,lord     
,chesterfield's ,letters to his ,son1   
,entrance upon the ,world1    ,advice to
 a young ,man1    ,the ,vision of       
,mirza1 exhibiting a ,picture of ,human 
,life1    ,riches not productive of     
,happiness3 ,the ,story of ,ortogrul of 
,basra1    ,of the ,scriptures1 as the  
,rule of ,life1    ,of ,genesis1    ,of 
,exodus1    ,of ,leviticus1 ,numbers1   
and ,deuteronomy1    ,of ,joshua1    ,of
 ,judges1 ,samuel1 and ,kings1    ,of   
,chronicles1 ,ezra1 ,nehemiah2 and      
,esther1    ,of ,job1    ,of the        

,psalms1    ,of the ,proverbs1          
,ecclesiastes1 ,solomon's ,song1 the    
,prophecies1 and        ,apocrypha1     
,of the ,new ,testament1    ,of the     
,example set by our ,savior1 and his    
,character1    ,a comparative ,view of  
the ,blessed and ,cursed at the last    
,day1 and the        ,inference to be   
drawn from it1    ,character of ,st4    
,paul1    ,of the ,epistles1    ,the    
,epistle of ,st4 ,james1    ,epistles of
 ,st4 ,peter1 and the first of ,st4     
,john1    ,of the ,revelations1    ,true
 ,devotion productive of the truest     
,pleasure1    ,a ,morning ,prayer for a 
young ,student at ,school1 or for the   
common ,use of        a ,school1    ,an 
,evening ,prayer1        ,,appendix4    
,of ,columbus1 and the ,discovery of    
,america1    ,speech of ,romulus after  
founding ,rome1    ,speech of ,quinctius
 ,capitolinus1    ,caius ,marius to the 
,romans1    ,demosthenes to the         
,athenians1    ,the perfect ,speaker1   
,on the ,duties of ,school-,boys1 from  

the pious and judicious ,rollin1        
,columbia4--,a ,poem1    ,the ,choice of
 a ,rural ,life4--,a ,poem1    ,hymns   
and ,prayers1    ,character of ,man1    
,winter1    ,douglas's ,account of      
himself1    ------how he learned the    
,art of ,war1    ,baucis and ,philemon1 
,on ,happiness1    ,speech of ,adam to  
,eve1    ,soliloquy and ,prayer of      
,edward the ,black ,prince1 before the  
battle of        ,poictiers1            
,invocation to ,paradise ,lost1         
,morning ,hymn1 ibid4    ,the ,hermit1  
by ,dr4 ,beatie1    ,compassion1        
,advantages of ,peace1    ,the ,progress
 of ,life1    ,speeches in the ,roman   
,senate1    ,cato's ,soliloquy on the   
,immortality of the ,soul1    ,hamlet's 
,meditation on ,death1        ,select   
,passages from ,dramatic ,writers4      
,joy1----,distressed ,mother1           
,grief1----,distressed ,mother1         
,pity1----,venice ,preserved1           
,fear1----,lear1    ,awe and            
,fear1----,mourning ,bride1             

,horror1----,scanderberg1               
,anger1----,lear1                       
,revenge1----,merchant of ,venice1      
,admiration1----,merchant of ,venice1   
,haughtiness1----,tamerlane1            
,contempt1----,fair ,penitent1          
,resignation1----,jane ,shore1          
,impatience1--,volpone    ,remorse and  
,despair1--,busiris1                    
,distraction1--,jane ,shore1            
,gratitude1--,fair ,penitent1           
,intreaty1--,jane ,shore1               
,commanding1--,rinaldo and ,armida1     
,courage1--,alfred1                     
,boasting1--,every ,man in his ,humour1 
,perplexity1--,tancred and ,sigismunda  
,suspicion1--,julius ,csar1    ,wit and 
,humour1--#b;d ,henry #d1 #ast ,henry   
#d1    ,ridicule1--,julius ,csar1       
,perturbation--,lear1        ,,elements 
,,of ,,gesture4      ,section ,i1       
,section ,,ii4    ,section ,,iii4       
,on ,reading and ,speaking1             
99       99       99       99       99  
,,the    ,,young ,,gentleman    ,,and   

,,lady',s ,,monitor1    ,,and           
,,english ,,teachers ,,assistant1       
,pursuit of ,knowledge recommended to   
,youth4    #a4 ,i am very much concerned
 when ,i see young gentlemen of fortune 
and  quality so wholly set upon pleasure
 and diversions1 that they neglect  all 
those improvements in wisdom and        
knowledge which may make them easy  to  
themselves and useful to the world4 ,the
 greatest part of our  ,british youth   
lose their figure1 and grow out of      
fashion1 by that time  they are five and
 twenty4    #b4 ,as soon as the natural 
gaiety and amiableness of the young man 
wears  off1 they have nothing left to   
recommend them1 but lie by the rest of  
their lives1 among the lumber and refuse
 of the species4    ,it sometimes       
happens1 indeed1 that for want of       
applying themselves in  due time to the 
pursuits of knowledge1 they take up a   
book in their  declining years1 and grow
 very hopeful scholars by that time they
 are  threescore4 ,i must therefore     

earnestly press my readers who are in   
the  flower of their youth1 to labour at
 these accomplishments which may set    
off their persons when their bloom is   
gone1 and to lay in timely  provisions  
for manhood and old age4 ,in short1 ,i  
would advise the youth  of fifteen to be
 dressing up every day the man of fifty2
 or to consider  how to make himself    
venerable at threescore4    #c4 ,young  
men1 who are naturally ambitious1 would 
do well to observe how  the greatest men
 of antiquity wade it their ambition to 
excel all their  cotemporaries in       
knowledge4 ,julius ,csar and ,alexander1
 the most  celebrated instances of human
 greatness1 took a particular care to   
distinguish themselves by their skill in
 the arts and sciences4 ,we have  still 
extant1 several remains of the former1  
which justify the character  given of   
him by the learned men of his own age4  
#d4 ,as for the latter1 it is a known   
saying of his1 that he was more  obliged
 to ,aristotle1 who had instructed him1 

than to ,philip1 who  had given him life
 and empire4 ,there is a letter of his  
recorded by  ,plutarch and ,aulus       
,gellius1 which he wrote to ,aristotle1 
upon  hearing that he had published     
those lectures he had given him in      
private4 ,this letter was written in the
 following words1 at a time when  he was
 in the height of his ,persian          
conquests4    #e4 ,,alexander to        
,,aristotle1 ,greeting4    ,you have not
 done well to publish your books of     
select knowledge2 for  what is there now
 in which ,i can surpass others1 if     
those things which ,i  have been        
instructed in are communicated to every 
body8 ,for my own part  ,i declare to   
you1 ,i would rather excel others in    
knowledge than power4  ,farewell4    #f4
 ,we see by this letter1 that the love  
of conquest was but the second  ambition
 in ,alexander's soul4 ,knowledge is    
indeed that1 which1 next to  virtue1    
truly and essentially raises one man    
above another4 ,it finishes  one half of

 the human soul4 ,it makes being        
pleasant to us1 fills the  mind with    
entertaining views1 and administers to  
it a perpetual series  of               
gratifications4    ,it gives ease to    
solitude1 and gracefulness to           
retirement4 ,it fills a  public station 
with suitable abilities1 and adds a     
lustre to those who  are in possession  
of them4    #g4 ,learning1 by which ,i  
mean all useful knowledge1 whether      
speculative  or practical1 is in popular
 and mixed governments the natural      
source of  wealth and honor4 ,if we look
 into most of the reigns from the       
conquest1  we shall find1 that the      
favorites of each reign have been those 
who have  raised themselves4 ,the       
greatest men are generally the growth of
 that  particular age in which they     
flourish4    #h4 ,a superior capacity   
for business and a more extensive       
knowledge1 are  the steps by which a new
 man often mounts to favor1 and         
outshines the  rest of his              

cotemporaries4 ,but when men are        
actually born to titles1 it  is almost  
impossible that they should fail of     
receiving an additional  greatness1 if  
they take care to accomplish themselves 
for it4    #i4 ,the story of ,solomon's 
choice1 does not only instruct us in    
that  point of history1 but furnishes   
out a very fine moral to us1 namely1    
that he who applies his heart to wisdom1
 does at the same time take the  most   
proper method for gaining long life1    
riches and reputation1 which  are very  
often not only the rewards1 but the     
effects of wisdom4    #aj4 ,as it is    
very suitable to my present subject1 ,i 
shall first of all  quote this passage  
in the words of sacred writ1 and        
afterwards mention  an allegory1 in     
which this whole passage is represented 
by a famous  ,,french ,poet2 not        
questioning but it will be very pleasing
 to such of my  readers as have a taste 
for fine writing4    #aa4 ,in ,gibeon   
the ,lord appeared to ,solomon in a     

dream by night3 and  ,god said1 ,ask    
what ,i shall give thee4 ,and ,solomon  
said1 ,thou hast  shewed unto thy       
servant ,david1 my father1 great mercy1 
according as he  walked before thee in  
truth1 and in righteousness1 and in     
uprightness of  heart with thee1 and    
thou hast kept from him this great      
kindness1 that  thou hast given him a   
son to sit on his throne1 as it is this 
day4 ,and  now1 ,o ,lord1 my ,god1 thou 
hast made thy servant ,king instead of  
,david my  father2 and ,i am but a      
little child3 ,i know not how to go out 
or come  in4    #ab4 ,give therefore thy
 servant an understanding heart to judge
 thy  people1 that ,i may discern       
between good and bad3 for who is able to
  judge this thy so great a people8 ,and
 the speech pleased the ,lord1 that     
,solomon had asked this thing4 ,and ,god
 said unto him1 ,because thou hast      
asked this thing1 and hast not asked for
 thyself long life1 neither hast  asked 
riches for thyself1 nor hast asked the  

life of thine enemies1 but  hast asked  
for thyself understanding to discern    
judgment2 behold1 ,i have  done         
according to thy words1 so ,i have given
 thee a wise and  understanding heart1  
so that there was none like thee before 
thee1  neither after thee shall any     
arise like unto thee4    #ac4 ,and ,i   
have also given thee that which thou    
hast not asked1 both  riches and honor1 
so that there shall not be any among the
 kings like  unto thee all thy days4    
,and if thou wilt walk in my ways1 to   
keep my  statutes and my commandments as
 thy father ,david did walk1 then ,i    
will  lengthen thy days4 ,and ,solomon  
awoke and behold it was a dream4    #ad4
 ,the ,french poet has shadowed this    
story in an allegory1 of which he  seems
 to have taken the hint from the fable  
of the three goddesses  appearing to    
,paris1 or rather from the vision of    
,hercules1 recorded by  ,xenophon1 where
 ,pleasure and ,virtue are represented  
as real  persons making their court to  

the hero with all their several charms  
and  allurements4    #ae4 ,health1      
,wealth1 ,victory and ,honor are        
introduced  successively in their proper
 emblems and characters1 each of them   
spreading her temptations1 and          
recommending herself to the young       
monarch's choice4 ,wisdom enters last1  
and so captivates him with her          
appearance1 that he gives himself up to 
her4 ,upon which she informs him1  that 
those who appeared before her were      
nothing but her equipage1 and  that     
since he had placed his heart upon      
,wisdom1 ,health1 ,wealth1  ,victory and
 ,honor should always wait an her as her
 handmaids4          ,directions how to 
spend our ,time4      #a4 ,we all of us 
complain of the shortness of time1 saith
 ,seneca1 and  yet have much more than  
we know what to do with4 ,our lives1    
says he1 are  spent either in doing     
nothing at all1 or in doing nothing to  
the  purpose1 or in doing nothing that  
we ought to do2 we are always           

complaining our days are few1 and acting
 as though there would be no end  of    
them4 ,that noble philosopher has       
described our inconsistency with        
ourselves in this particular1 by all    
those various turns of expression  and  
thought which are peculiar to his       
writings4    #b4 ,i often consider      
mankind as wholly inconsistent with     
itself in a  point that bears some      
affinity to the former4 ,though we seem 
grieved at  the shortness of life in    
general1 we are wishing every period of 
it at  an end4 ,the minor longs to be at
 age1 then to be a man of business1 then
  to make up an estate1 then to arrive  
at honors1 then to retire4 ,thus1       
although the whole of life is allowed by
 every one to be short1 the  several    
divisions of it appear to be long and   
tedious4    #c4 ,we are for lengthening 
our span in general1 but would fain     
contract  the parts of which it is      
composed4 ,the usurer would be very well
  satisfied to have all the time        

annihilated that lies between the       
present  moment and next quarter day4   
,the politician would be contented to   
loose  three years of his life1 could he
 place things in the posture which he   
fancies they will stand in after such a 
revolution of time4    #d4 ,the lover   
would be glad to strike out of his      
existence all the  moments that are to  
pass away before the happy meeting4     
,thus1 as far as  our time runs1 we     
should be very glad in most parts of our
 lives1 that  it ran much faster than it
 does4 ,several hours of the day hang   
upon our  hands1 nay1 we wish away whole
 years2 and travel through time as      
through  a country filled with many wild
 and empty wastes which we would fain   
hurry over1 that we may arrive at those 
several little settlements or  imaginary
 points of rest1 which are dispersed up 
and down in it4    #e4 ,if we may divide
 the life of most men into twenty parts1
 we shall  find1 that at least nineteen 
of them are mere gaps and chasms1 which 

are  neither filled with pleasure nor   
business4 ,i do not however include in  
this calculation the life of those men  
who are in a perpetual hurry of         
affairs1 but of those only who are not  
always engaged in scenes of  action3 and
 ,i hope ,i shall not do an unacceptable
 piece of service to  those persons1 if 
,i point out to them certain methods for
 the filling up  their empty spaces of  
life4 ,the methods ,i shall propose to  
them are as  follow3    #f4 ,the first  
is the exercise of virtue1 in the most  
general acceptation  of the word4 ,that 
particular scheme which comprehends the 
social  virtues1 may give employment to 
the most industrious temper1 and find a 
man in business more than the most      
active station of life4 ,to advise the  
ignorant1 relieve the needy1 comfort the
 afflicted1 are duties that fall  in our
 way almost every day of our lives4     
#g4 ,a man has frequent opportunities of
 mitigating the fierceness of a  party2 
of doing justice to the character of a  

deserving man2 of  softening the        
envious1 quieting the angry1 and        
rectifying the  prejudiced2 which1 are  
all of them employments suited to a     
reasonable  nature1 and bring great     
satisfaction to the person who can busy 
himself  in them with discretion4    #h4
 ,there is another kind of virtue that  
may find employment for those  retired  
hours in which we are altogether left to
 ourselves1 and  destitute of company   
and conversation3 ,i mean that          
intercourse and  communication which    
every reasonable creature ought to      
maintain with the  great ,author of his 
being4    #i4 ,the man who lives under  
an habitual sense of the divine         
presence1  keeps up a perpetual         
cheerfulness of temper1 and enjoys every
 moment the  satisfaction of thinking   
himself in company with the dearest and 
best of  friends4 ,the time never lies  
heavy upon him2 it is impossible for him
 to  be alone4    #aj4 ,his thoughts and
 passions are the most busied at such   

hours when  those of other men are the  
most inactive2 he no sooner steps out of
 the  world1 but his heart burns with   
devotion1 swells with hope1 and triumphs
  in the consciousness of that presence 
which every where surrounds him2  or1 on
 the contrary1 pours out its fears1 its 
sorrows1 its  apprehensions1 to the     
great supporter of its existence4       
#aa4 ,i have here only considered the   
necessity of a man's being virtuous     
that he may have something to do2 but if
 we consider further1 that the  exercise
 of virtue is not only an amusement for 
the time it lasts1 but  that its        
influence extends to those parts of our 
existence which lie  beyond the grave1  
and that our whole eternity is to take  
its colour from  those hours which we   
here employ in virtue or in vice1 the   
argument  redoubles upon us1 for putting
 in practice this method of passing away
  our time4    #ab4 ,when a man has but 
a little stock to improve1 and has      
opportunities  of turning it all to a   

good account1 what shall we think of him
 if he  suffers nineteen parts of it to 
lie dead1 and perhaps employs even the  
twentieth to his ruin or disadvantage8  
,but because the mind cannot be  always 
in its fervour nor strained up to a     
pitch of virtue1 it is  necessary to    
find out proper employments for it in   
its relaxations4    #ac4 ,the next      
method therefore that ,i would propose  
to fill up our time1  should be useful  
and innocent diversion4 ,i must confess 
,i think it is  below reasonable        
creatures to be altogether conversant in
 such  diversions as are merely         
innocent1 and having nothing else to    
recommend  them but that there is no    
hurt in them4    #ad4 ,whether any kind 
of gaming has even thus much to say for 
itself1 ,i  shall not determine2 but ,i 
think it is very wonderful to see       
persons of  the best sense1 passing away
 a dozen hours together in shuffling and
  dividing a pack of cards1 with no     
other conversation but what is made up  

of a few game phrases1 and no other     
ideas but those of black or red  spots  
ranged together in different figures4   
,would not a man laugh to  hear any one 
of his species complaining that life is 
short4    #ae4 ,the stage might be made 
a perpetual source of the most noble and
  useful entertainments1 were it under  
proper regulations4    ,but the mind    
never unbends itself so agreeably as in 
the conversation of  a well-chosen      
friend4 ,there is indeed no blessing of 
life that is any  way comparable to the 
enjoyment of a discreet and virtuous    
friend4 ,it  eases and unloads the mind1
 clears and improves the understanding1 
engenders thoughts and knowledge1       
animates virtue and good resolution1    
sooths and allays the passions1 and     
finds employment for most of the  vacant
 hours of life4    #af4 ,next to such an
 intimacy with a particular person1 one 
would  endeavour after a more general   
conversation with such as are able to   
entertain and improve those with whom   

they converse1 which are  qualifications
 that seldom go asunder4    ,there are  
many other useful amusements of life1   
which one would  endeavour to multiply1 
that one might on all occasions have    
recourse to  something rather than      
suffer the mind to lie idle1 or ran     
adrift with  any passion that chances to
 rise in it4    #ag4 ,a man that has a  
taste in music1 painting1 or            
architecture1 is like  one that has     
another sense when compared with such as
 have no relish for  those arts4 ,the   
florist1 the planter1 the gardener1 the 
husbandman1 when  they are only as      
accomplishments to the man of fortune2  
are great  reliefs to a country life1   
and many ways useful to those who are   
possessed of them4    ,,spectator1 ,no4 
#ic4    #ah4 ,i was yesterday busy in   
comparing together the industry of man  
with  that of other creatures2 in which 
,i could not but observe1 that          
notwithstanding we are obliged by duty  
to keep ourselves in constant  employ1  

after the same manner as inferior       
animals are prompted to it by  instinct1
 we fell very short of them in this     
particular4    #ai4 ,we are the more    
inexcusable1 because there is a greater 
variety of  business to which we may    
apply ourselves4 ,reason opens to us a  
large  field of affairs1 which other    
creatures are not capable of4 ,beasts of
  prey1 and ,i believe all other kinds1 
in their natural state of being1  divide
 their time between action and rest4    
,they are always at work or  asleep4 ,in
 short1 their awaking hours are wholly  
taken up in seeking  after their food1  
or in consuming it4    #bj4 ,the human  
species only1 to the great reproach of  
our natures1 are  filled with           
complaints--,that the day hangs heavy on
 them1 that they do  not know what to do
 with themselves1 that they are at a    
loss how to pass  away their time1 with 
many of the like shameful murmurs1 which
 we often  find in the mouth of those   
who are styled reasonable beings4       

#ba4 ,how monstrous are such expressions
 among creatures who have the  labours  
of the mind as well as those of the body
 to furnish them with  proper           
employments2 who1 besides the business  
of their proper callings  and           
professions1 can apply themselves to the
 duties of religion1 to  meditation1 to 
the reading of useful books1 to         
discourse2 in a word1 who  may exercise 
themselves in the unbounded pursuits of 
knowledge and  virtue1 and every hour of
 their lives make themselves wiser or   
better  than they were before4    #bb4  
,after having been taken up for some    
time in this course of thought1  ,i     
diverted myself with a book1 according  
to my usual custom1 in order to  unbend 
my mind before ,i went to sleep4 ,the   
book ,i made use of on this  occasion   
was ,lucian where ,i amused my thoughts 
for about an hour among  the dialogues  
of the dead1 which in all probability   
produced the  following dream3    #bc4  
,i was conveyed1 methought1 into the    

entrance of the infernal  regions1 where
 ,i saw ,rhadamanthus1 one of the judges
 of the dead1  seated in his tribunal4  
,on his left hand stood the keeper of   
,erebus1  on his right the keeper of    
,elysium4 ,i was told he sat upon women 
that  day1 there being several of the   
sex lately arrived1 who had not yet     
their mansions assigned them4    #bd4 ,i
 was surprised to hear him ask every one
 of them the same question1  namely1    
,what they had been doing8 ,upon this   
question being proposed to  the whole   
assembly they stared upon one another1  
as not knowing what to  answer4 ,he then
 interrogated each of them separately4  
,madam1 says he to  the first of them1  
you have been upon the earth about fifty
 years3 ,what  have you been doing there
 all this while8 ,doing1 says she1      
really ,i do  not know what ,i have been
 doing3 ,i desire ,i may have time given
 me to  recollect4    #be4 ,after about 
half an hour's pause1 she told him that 
she had been  playing at crimp3 upon    

which ,rhadamanthus beckoned to the     
keeper on  his left hand1 to take her   
into custody4 ,and you1 ,madam1 says the
 judge1  that look with such a soft and 
languishing air2 ,i think you set out   
for  this place in your nine and        
twentieth year2 what have you been doing
 all  this while8 ,i had a great deal of
 business on my hands1 says she1 being  
taken up the first twelve years of my   
life1 in dressing a jointed baby1  and  
all the remaining part of it in reading 
plays and romances4    #bf4 ,very well1 
says he1 you have employed your time to 
good purpose4  ,away with her4 ,the next
 was a plain country woman3 ,well1      
mistress1 says  ,rhadamanthus1 and what 
have you been doing8 ,an't please your  
worship1  says she1 ,i did not live     
quite forty years2 and in that time     
brought my  husband seven daughters1    
made him nine thousand cheeses1 and left
 my  eldest girl with him to look after 
his house in my absence1 and who1 ,i    
may venture to say1 is us pretty a      

housewife as any in the country4    #bg4
 ,rhadamanthus smiled at the simplicity 
of the good woman1 and  ordered the     
keeper of ,elysium1 to take her into his
 care4 ,and you1  fair lady1 says he1   
what have you been doing these five and 
thirty  years8 ,i have been doing no    
hurt1 ,i assure you sir1 said she4 ,that
 is  well1 says he1 but what good have  
you been doing8 ,the lady was in great  
confusion at this question1 and not     
knowing what to answer1 the two  keepers
 leaped out to seize her at the same    
time2 the one took her by  the hand to  
convey her to ,elysium2 the other caught
 hold of her to  carry her away to      
,erebus4    #bh4 ,but ,rhadamanthus     
observing an ingenuous modesty in her   
countenance  and behaviour1 bid them    
both let her loose1 and set her aside   
for a  re-examination when he was more  
at leisure4 ,an old woman1 of a proud   
and  sour look1 presented herself next  
at the bar1 and being asked what she    
had been doing8 ,truly1 says she1 ,i    

lived three score and ten years in a    
very wicked world1 and was so angry at  
the behaviour of a parcel of  young     
flirts1 that ,i past most of my last    
years in condemning the  follies of the 
times4    #bi4 ,i was every day blaming 
the silly conduct of people about me1 in
  order to deter those ,i conversed with
 from falling into the like errors  and 
miscarriages4 ,very well1 says          
,rhadamanthus1 but did you keep the     
same watchful eye over your own actions8
 ,why truly1 says she1 ,i was so  taken 
up with publishing the faults of others1
 that ,i had no time to  consider my    
own4    #cj4 ,madam1 says ,rhadamanthus1
 be pleased to file off to the left1 and
  make room for the venerable matron    
that stands behind you4 ,old            
gentlewoman1 says he1 ,i think you are  
fourscore8 ,you have heard the          
question1 what have you been doing so   
long in the world8 ,ah6 sir1 says  she1 
,i have been doing what ,i should not   
have done1 but ,i had made a  firm      

resolution to have changed my life1 if  
,i had not been snatched off  by an     
untimely end4    #ca4 ,madam1 says he1  
you will please to follow your leader1  
and spying  another of the same age1    
interrogated her in the same form4 ,to  
which the  matron replied1 ,i have been 
the wife of a husband who was as dear to
 me  in his old age as in his youth4 ,i 
have been a mother1 and very happy in   
my children1 whom ,i endeavoured to     
bring up in every thing that is good4   
#cb4 ,my eldest son is blest by the     
poor1 and beloved by every one that     
knows him4 ,i lived within my own       
family1 and left it much more wealthy   
than ,i found it4 ,rhadamanthus1 who    
knew the value of the old lady  smiled  
upon her in such a manner1 that the     
keeper of ,elysium1 who knew  his       
office1 reached out his hand to her4 ,he
 no sooner touched her but  her wrinkles
 vanished1 her eyes sparkled1 her cheeks
 glowed with  blushes1 and she appeared 
in full bloom and beauty4    #cc4 ,a    

young woman observing that this officer1
 who conducted the happy  to ,elysium1  
was so great a beautifier1 longed to be 
in his hands1 so  that1 pressing through
 the croud1 she was the next that       
appeared at the  bar1 and being asked   
what she had been doing the five and    
twenty years  that she had passed in the
 world1 ,i have endeavoured1 says she1  
ever  since ,i came to the years of     
discretion1 to make myself lovely1 and  
gain  admirers4    #cd4 ,in order to do 
it ,i past my time in bottling up       
,maydew1 inventing  white-washes1 mixing
 colours1 cutting out patches1          
consulting my glass1  suiting my        
complexion1 tearing off my tucker1      
sinking my  stays--,rhadamanthus1       
without hearing her out1 gave the sign  
to take  her off4 ,upon the approach of 
the keeper of ,erebus her colour faded1 
her face was puckered up with wrinkles1 
and her whole person lost in  deformity4
    #ce4 ,i was then surprised with a   
distant sound of a whole troop of       

females that came forward laughing1     
singing1 and dancing4 ,i was very       
desirous to know the reception they     
would meet with1 and withal was very    
apprehensive that ,rhadamanthus would   
spoil their mirth2 but at their  nearer 
approach the noise grew so very great   
that it awakened me4    #cf4 ,employment
 of time is a subject that1 from its    
importance1 deserves  your best         
attention4 ,most young gentlemen have a 
great deal of time  before them1 and one
 hour well employed1 in the early part  
of life1 is  more valuable and will be  
of greater use to you1 than perhaps four
 and  twenty1 some years to come4       
#cg4 ,what ever time you can steal from 
company and from the study of the  world
 7,i say company1 for a knowledge of    
life is best learned in various         
companies7 employ it in serious reading4
 ,take up some valuable book1 and       
continue the reading of that book till  
you have got through it2 never  burden  
your mind with more than one thing at a 

time3 and in reading this  book do not  
run it over superficially1 but read     
every passage twice  over1 at least do  
not pass on to a second till you        
thoroughly understand  the first1 nor   
quit the book till you are master of the
 subject2 for  unless you do this1 you  
may read it through1 and not remember   
the  contents of it for a week4    #ch4 
,the books ,i would particularly        
recommend1 are ,cardinal ,retz's        
maxims1 ,rochefoucault's moral          
reflections1 ,bruyere's characters1     
,fontenelle's plurality of worlds1 ,sir 
,josiah ,child on trade1  ,bollinbroke's
 works2 for style1 his remarks on the   
history of ,england1  under the name of 
,sir ,john ,oldcastle2 ,puffendorff's   
,jus ,gentium1 and  ,grotius de ,jure   
,belli et ,pacis3 the last two are well 
translated by  ,barbeyrac4 ,for         
occasional half hours or less1 read the 
best works of  invention1 wit and humor2
 but never waste your minutes on        
trifling  authors1 either ancient or    

modern4    #ci4 ,any business you may   
have to transact1 should be done the    
first  opportunity1 and finished1 if    
possible1 without interruption2 for by  
deferring it we may probably finish it  
too late1 or execute it  indifferently4 
,now1 business of any kind should never 
be done by halves1  but every part of it
 should be well attended to3 for he that
 does  business ill1 had better not do  
it at all4 ,and in any point which      
discretion bids you pursue1 and which   
has a manifest utility to  recommend it1
 let not difficulties deter you2 rather 
let them animate  your industry4 ,if one
 method fails1 try a second and a third4
 ,be active1  persevere1 and you will   
certainly conquer4    #dj4 ,never       
indulge a lazy disposition1 there are   
few things but are  attended with some  
difficulties1 and if you are frightened 
at those  difficulties1 you will not    
complete any thing4 ,indolent minds     
prefer  ignorance to trouble2 they look 
upon most things as impossible1 because 

perhaps they are difficult4 ,even an    
hour's attention is too laborious  for  
them1 and they would rather content     
themselves with the first view  of      
things than take the trouble to look any
 farther into them4 ,thus1  when they   
come to talk upon subjects to those who 
have studied them1  they betray an      
unpardonable ignorance1 and lay         
themselves open to  answers that confuse
 them4 ,be careful then1 that you do not
 get the  appellation of indolent1 and1 
if possible1 avoid the character of     
frivolous4    #da4 ,for the frivolous   
mind is busied always upon nothing4 ,it 
mistakes  trifling objects for important
 ones1 and spends that time upon little 
matters1 that should only be bestowed   
upon great ones4 ,knick-knacks1         
butterflies1 shells1 and such like1     
engross the attention of the  frivolous 
man1 and fill up all his time4 ,he      
studies the dress and not  the          
characters of men1 and his subjects of  
conversation are no other  than the     

weather1 his own domestic affairs1 his  
servants1 his method of  managing his   
family1 the little anecdotes of the     
neighborhood1 and the  fiddle-faddle    
stories of the day2 void of information1
 void of  improvement4 ,these he relates
 with emphasis1 as interesting matters2 
in  short1 he is a male gossip4 ,i      
appeal to your own feelings now1 whether
  such things do not lessen a man in the
 opinion1 of his acquaintance1 and      
instead of attracting esteem1 create    
disgust4          ,modesty4             
,modesty is the citidel of beauty and   
virtue4 ,the first of all virtues is    
innocence2 the second is modesty4    #a4
 ,modesty is both in its source1 and in 
its consequence1 a very great  happiness
 to the fair possessor of it2 it arises 
from a fear of  dishonor1 and a good    
conscience1 and is followed immediately1
 upon its  first appearance1 with the   
reward of honor and esteem1 paid by all 
those  who discover it in any body      
living4    #b4 ,it is indeed a virtue in

 a woman 7that might otherwise be very  
disagreeable to one7 so exquisitely     
delicate1 that it excites in any        
beholder1 of a generous and manly       
disposition1 almost all the passions    
that he would be apt to conceive for the
 mistress of his heart1 in  variety of  
circumstances4    #c4 ,a woman that is  
modest creates in us an awe in her      
company1 a wish  for her welfare1 a joy 
in her being actually happy1 a sore and 
painful  sorrow if distress should come 
upon her1 a ready and willing heart to  
give her consolation1 and a             
compassionate temper towards her1 in    
every  little accident of life she      
undergoes2 and to sum up all in one     
word1 it  causes such a kind of         
angelical love1 even to a stranger1 as  
good  natured brothers and sisters      
usually bear towards one another4    #d4
 ,it adds wonderfully to the make of a  
face1 and ,i have seen a pretty  well   
turned forehead1 fine set eyes1 and what
 your poets call1 a row of  pearl set in

 coral1 shewn by a pretty expansion of  
two velvet lips that  covered them 7that
 would have tempted any sober man living
 of my own  age1 to have been a little  
loose in his thoughts1 and to have      
enjoyed a  painful pleasure amidst his  
impotency7 lose all their virtue1 all   
their  force and efficacy1 by having an 
ugly cast of boldness very discernibly  
spread out at large over all those      
alluring features4    #e4 ,at the same  
time modesty will fill up the wrinkles  
of old age with  glory2 make sixty blush
 itself into sixteen2 and help a green  
sick girl  to defeat the satyr of a     
false waggish lover1 who might compare  
her  colour1 when she looked like a     
ghost1 to the blowing of the rose-bud1  
by  blushing herself into a bloom of    
beauty2 and might make what he meant a  
reflection1 a real compliment1 at any   
hour of the day1 in spite of his  teeth4
 ,it has a prevailing power with me1    
whenever ,i find it in the sex4    #f4  
,i who have the common fault of old men1

 to be very sour and  humoursome1 when  
,i drink my water-gruel in a morning1   
fell into a more  than ordinary pet with
 a maid whom ,i call my nurse1 from a   
constant  tenderness1 that ,i have      
observed her to exercise towards me     
beyond all  my other servants2 ,i       
perceived her flush and glow in the     
face1 in a  manner which ,i could       
plainly discern proceeded not from anger
 or  resentment of my correction1 but   
from a good natured regret1 upon a fear 
that she had offended her grave old     
master4    #g4 ,i was so heartily       
pleased1 that ,i eased her of the honest
 trouble she  underwent inwardly far my 
sake2 and giving her half a crown1 ,i   
told her  it was a forfeit due to her   
because ,i was out of humour with her   
without  any reason at all4 ,and as she 
is so gentle-hearted1 ,i have diligently
  avoided giving her one harsh word ever
 since3 and ,i find my own reward  in   
it3 for not being so testy as ,i used1  
has made me much haler and  stronger    

than ,i was before4    #h4 ,the pretty1 
and witty1 and virtuous ,simplicia1 was1
 the other day1  visiting with an old   
aunt of her's1 that ,i verily believe   
has read the  ,atalantis2 she took a    
story out there1 and dressed up an old  
honest  neighbour in the second hand    
clothes of scandal4 ,the young creature 
hid  her face with her fan at every     
burst and peal of laughter1 and blushed 
for her guilty parent2 by which she     
atoned1 methought1 for every scandal    
that ran round the beautiful circle4    
#i4 ,as ,i was going home to bed that   
evening1 ,i could not help thinking of  
her all the way ,i went4 ,i represented 
her to myself as shedding holy  blood   
every time she blushed1 and as being a  
martyr in the cause of  virtue4 ,and    
afterwards1 when ,i was putting on my   
night-cap1 ,i could not  drive the      
thought out of my head1 but that ,i was 
young enough to be  married to her2 and 
that it would be an addition to the     
reputation ,i  have in the study of     

wisdom1 to marry to so much youth and   
modesty1 even  in my old age4    #aj4 ,i
 know there have not been wanting many  
wicked objections against  this virtue2 
one is grown insufferably common4 ,the  
fellow blushes1 he is  guilty4 ,i should
 say rather1 ,he blushes1 therefore he  
is innocent4 ,i  believe the same man1  
that first had that wicked imagination  
of a blush  being the sign of guilt1    
represented good nature to be folly2 and
 that  he himself1 was the most inhuman 
and impudent wretch alive4    #aa4 ,the 
author of ,cato1 who is known to be one 
of the most modest1 and  most ingenious 
persons of the age we now live in1 has  
given this virtue  a delicate name in   
the tragedy of ,cato1 where the         
character of  ,marcia is first opened to
 us4 ,i would have all ladies who have a
 mind  to be thought well-bred1 to think
 seriously on this virtue1 which he so  
beautifully calls the sanctity of       
manners4    #ab4 ,modesty is a polite   
accomplishment1 and generally an        

attendant upon  merit4 ,it is engaging  
to the highest degree1 and wins the     
hearts of all  our acquaintance4 ,on the
 contrary1 none are more disgustful in  
company  than the impudent and          
presuming4    ,the man who is1 on all   
occasions1 commending and speaking well 
of  himself1 we naturally dislike4 ,on  
the other hand1 he who studies to       
conceal his own deserts1 who does       
justice to the merit of others1 who     
talks but little of himself1 and that   
with modesty1 makes a favourable        
impression on the persons he is         
conversing with1 captivates their minds1
  and gains their esteem4    #ac4       
,modesty1 however1 widely differs from  
an aukward bashfulness2 which  is as    
much to be condemned as the other is to 
be applauded4 ,to appear  simple is as  
ill-bred as to be impudent4 ,a young man
 ought to be able to  come into a room  
and address the company without the     
least  embarrassment4 ,to be out of     
countenance when spoken to1 and not to  

have  an answer ready1 is ridiculous to 
the last degree4    #ad4 ,an aukward    
country fellow1 when he comes into      
company better than  himself1 is        
exceedingly disconcerted4 ,he knows not 
what to do with his  hands or his hat1  
but either puts one of them in his      
pocket1 and dangles  the other by his   
side3 or perhaps twirls his hat on his  
fingers1 or  perhaps fumbles with the   
button4 ,if spoken to he is in a much   
worse  situation2 he answers with the   
utmost difficulty1 and nearly stammers2 
whereas a gentleman who is acquainted   
with life1 enters a room with           
gracefulness and a modest assurance2    
addresses even persons he does not      
know1 in an easy and natural manner1 and
 without the least  embarrassment4      
#ae4 ,this is the characteristic of     
good-breeding1 a very necessary         
knowledge in our intercourse with men2  
for one of inferior parts1 with  the    
behaviour of a gentleman1 is frequently 
better received than a man  of sense1   

with the address and manners of a clown4
 ,ignorance and vice  are the only      
things we need be ashamed of2 steer     
clear of these1 and you  may go into any
 company you will2 not that ,i would    
have a young man  throw off all dread of
 appearing abroad2 as a fear of         
offending1 or  being disesteemed1 will  
make him preserve a proper decorum4     
#af4 ,some persons1 from experiencing   
the bad effects of false modesty1  have 
run into the other extreme1 and acquired
 the character of impudent4  ,this is as
 great a fault as the other4 ,a         
well-bred man keeps himself  within the 
two1 and steers the middle way4 ,he is  
easy and firm in every  company2 is     
modest1 but not bashful2 steady1 but not
 impudent4 ,he copies  the manners of   
the better people1 and conforms to their
 customs with  ease and attention4      
#ag4 ,till we can present ourselves in  
all companies with coolness and         
unconcern1 we can never present         
ourselves well2 nor will man ever be    

supposed to have kept good company1 or  
ever be acceptable in such  company1 if 
he cannot appear there easy and         
unembarrassed4 ,a modest  assurance in  
every part of life1 is the most         
advantageous qualification  we can      
possibly acquire4    #ah4 ,instead of   
becoming insolent1 a man of sense1 under
 a consciousness  of merit1 is more     
modest4 ,he behaves himself indeed with 
firmness1 but  without the least        
presumption4 ,the man who is ignorant of
 his own merit  is no less a fool than  
he who is constantly displaying it4 ,a  
man of  understanding avails himself of 
his abilities but never boasts of them2 
whereas the timid and bashful can never 
push himself in life1 be his  merit as  
great as it will2 he will be always kept
 behind by the forward  and the         
bustling4    #ai4 ,a man of abilities1  
and acquainted with life1 will stand as 
firm in  defence of his own rights1 and 
pursue his plans as steadily and unmoved
  as the most impudent man alive2 but   

then he does it with a seeming  modesty4
 ,thus1 manner is every thing2 what is  
impudence in one is proper  assurance   
only in another3 for firmness is        
commendable1 but an  overbearing conduct
 is disgustful4    #bj4 ,forwardness    
being the very reverse of modesty1      
follow rather than  lead the company2   
that is1 join in discourse upon their   
subjects rather  than start one of your 
own2 if you have parts1 you will have   
opportunities enough of shewing them on 
every topic of conversation2 and  if you
 have none1 it is better to expose      
yourself upon a subject of  other       
people's1 than on one of your own4      
#ba4 ,but be particularly careful not to
 speak of yourself if you can help  it4 
,an impudent fellow lugs in himself     
abruptly upon all occasions1 and  is    
ever the here of his own story4 ,others 
will colour their arrogance  with1 ,it  
may seem strange indeed1 that ,i should 
talk in this manner of  myself2 it is   
what ,i by no means like1 and should    

never do1 if ,i had not  been cruelly   
and unjustly accused2 but when my       
character is attacked1 it  is a justice 
,i owe to myself to defend it4 ,this    
veil is too thin not to  be seen through
 on the first inspection4    #bb4       
,others again1 with more art1 will      
modestly boast of all the  principal    
virtues1 by calling these virtues       
weaknesses1 and saying1 they  are so    
unfortunate as to fall into those       
weaknesses4 ,i cannot see  persons      
suffer1 says one of his cast1 without   
relieving them2 though  my circumstances
 are very unable to afford it--,i cannot
 avoid speaking  truth2 though it is    
often very imprudent2 and so on4    #bc4
 ,this angling for praise is so         
prevailing a principle1 that it         
frequently stoops to the lowest object4 
,men will often boast of doing  that1   
which1 if true1 would be rather a       
disgrace to them than otherwise4  ,one  
man affirms that he rode twenty miles   
within the hour3 'tis probably  a lie2  

but suppose he did1 what then8 ,he had a
 good horse under him1  and is a good   
jockey4 ,another swears he has often at 
a sitting1 drank  five or six bottles to
 his own share4 ,out of respect to him1 
,i will  believe him a liar2 for ,i     
would not wish to think him a beast4    
#bd4 ,these and many more are the       
follies of idle people1 which1 while    
they think they procure them esteem1 in 
reality make them despised4    ,to avoid
 this contempt1 therefore1 never speak  
of yourself at all1  unless necessity   
obliges you2 and even then1 take care to
 do it in such  a manner1 that it may   
not be construed into fishing for       
applause4  ,whatever perfections you may
 have1 be assured1 people will find them
  out2 but whether they do or not1      
nobody will take them upon your own     
word4 ,the less you say of yourself1 the
 more the world will give you  credit   
for2 and the more you say1 the less they
 will believe you4                      
,affectation4      #a4 ,a late          

conversation which ,i fell into1 gave me
 an opportunity of  observing a great   
deal of beauty in a very handsome woman1
 and as much  wit in an ingenious man1  
turned into deformity in the one1 and   
absurdity  in the other1 by the mere    
force of affectation4 ,the fair one had 
something in her person upon which her  
thoughts were fixed1 that she  attempted
 to shew to advantage in every look1    
word and gesture4    #b4 ,the gentleman 
was as diligent to do justice to his    
fine parts1 as the  lady to her         
beauteous form3 you might see his       
imagination on the stretch  to find out 
something uncommon1 and what they call  
bright1 to entertain  her3 while she    
writhed herself into as many different  
postures to engage  him4 ,when she      
laughed1 her lips were to sever at a    
greater distance than  ordinary to shew 
her teeth4    #c4 ,her fan was to point 
to somewhat at a distance1 that in the  
reach she  may discover the roundness of
 her arm2 then she is utterly mistaken  

in  what she saw1 falls back1 smiles at 
her own folly1 and is so wholly         
discomposed1 that her tucker is to be   
adjusted1 her bosom exposed1 and  the   
whole woman put into new airs and       
graces4    #d4 ,while she was doing all 
this1 the gallant had time to think of  
something very pleasant to say next to  
her1 or make some unkind  observation on
 some other lady to feed her vanity4    
,these unhappy  effects of affectation  
naturally led me to look into that      
strange state  of mind1 which so        
generally discolours the behaviour of   
most people we  meet with4    #e4 ,the  
learned ,dr4 ,burnet1 in his ,theory of 
the ,earth1 takes occasion  to observe1 
that every thought is attended with     
consciousness and  representativeness2  
the mind has nothing presented to it1   
but what is  immediately followed by a  
reflection of conscience1 which tells   
you  whether that which was so presented
 is graceful or unbecoming4    #f4 ,this
 act of the mind discovers itself in the

 gesture1 by a proper  behaviour in     
those whose consciousness goes no       
farther than to direct  them in the just
 progress of their present thought or   
action2 but  betrays an interruption in 
every second thought1 when the          
consciousness  is employed in too fondly
 approving a man's own conceptions2     
which sort  of consciousness is what we 
call affectation4    #g4 ,as the love of
 praise is implanted in our bosoms as a 
strong  incentive to worthy actions2 it 
is a very difficult task to get above a 
desire of it for things that should be  
wholly indifferent4 ,women1 whose       
hearts are fixed upon the pleasure they 
have in the consciousness that  they are
 the objects of love and admiration1 are
 ever changing the air  of their        
countenances1 and altering the attitude 
of their bodies1 to  strike the hearts  
of their beholders with a new sense of  
their beauty4    #h4 ,the dressing part 
of our sex1 whose minds are the same    
with the  sillier part of the other1 are

 exactly in the like uneasy condition to
  be regarded for a well tied cravat1 an
 hat cocked with an unusual  briskness1 
a very well chosen coat1 or other       
instances of merit1 which  they are     
impatient to see unobserved4    #i4 ,but
 this apparent affectation1 arising from
 an ill governed  consciousness1 is not 
so much to be wondered at in such loose 
and  trivial minds as these4 ,but when  
you see it reign in characters of worth 
and distinction1 it is what you cannot  
but lament1 nor without some            
indignation4 ,it creeps into the heart  
of the wise man1 as well as that  of the
 coxcomb4    #aj4 ,when you see a man of
 sense look about for applause1 and     
discover an  itching inclination to be  
commended2 lay traps for a little       
incense1  even from those whose opinion 
he values in nothing but his own favour2
  who is safe against this weakness8 or 
who knows whether he is guilty of  it or
 not8 ,the best way to get clear of such
 a light fondness for  applause is1 to  

take all possible care to throw off the 
love of it upon  occasions that are not 
in themselves laudable2 but1 as it      
appears1 we  hope for no praise from    
them4    #aa4 ,of this nature are all   
graces in men's persons1 dress1 and     
bodily  deportment2 which will naturally
 be winning and attractive if we think  
not of them1 but lose their force in    
proportion to our endeavour to make     
them such4    ,when our consciousness   
turns upon the main design of life1 and 
our  thoughts are employed upon the     
chief purpose either in business or     
pleasure1 we should never betray an     
affectation1 for we cannot be guilty  of
 it1 but when we give the passion for   
praise an unbridled liberty1 our        
pleasure in little perfections robs us  
of what is due to us for great  virtues 
and worthy qualities4    #ab4 ,how many 
excellent speeches and honest actions   
are lost1 for want of  being indifferent
 where we ought6 ,men are oppressed with
 regard to their  way of speaking and   

acting1 instead of having their thoughts
 bent upon  what they should do or say2 
and by that means bury a capacity for   
great  things1 by their fear of failing 
in indifferent things4 ,this1 perhaps1  
cannot be called affectation2 but it has
 some tincture of it1 at least  so far1 
as that their fear of erring in a thing 
of no consequence argues  they would be 
too much pleased in performing it4      
#ac4 ,it is only from a thorough        
disregard to himself in such            
particulars1  that a man can act with a 
laudable sufficiency2 his heart is fixed
 upon  one point in view2 and he commits
 no errors1 because he thinks nothing   
an error but what deviates from that    
intention4    ,the wild havock          
affectation makes in that part of the   
world which should  be most polite1 is  
visible wherever we turn our eyes2 it   
pushes men not  only into impertinences 
in conversation1 but also in their      
premeditated  speeches4    #ad4 ,at the 
bar it torments the bench1 whose        

business it is to cut off  all          
superfluities in what is spoken before  
it by the practitioner2 as  well as     
several little pieces of injustice which
 arise from the law  itself4 ,i have    
seen it make a man run from the purpose 
before a judge1  who at the bar himself1
 so close and logical a pleader1 that   
with all  the pomp of eloquence in his  
power1 he never spoke a word too much4  
#ae4 ,it might be borne even here1 but  
it often ascends the pulpit itself2  and
 the declaimer1 in that sacred place1 is
 frequently so impertinently  witty1    
speaks of the last day itself with so   
many quaint phrases1 that  there is no  
man who understands raillery1 but must  
resolve to sin no  more2 nay1 you may   
behold him sometimes in prayer1 for a   
proper delivery  of the great truths he 
is to utter1 humble himself with a very 
well  turned phrase1 and mention his    
unworthiness in a way so very becoming1 
that the air of the pretty gentleman is 
preserved1 under the lowliness  of the  

preacher4    #af4 ,i shall end this with
 a short letter ,i wrote the other day  
to a very  witty man1 over-run with the 
fault ,i am now speaking of4    ',,dear 
,,sir1    ,i spent some time with you   
the other day1 and must take the liberty
 of a  friend to tell you of the        
insufferable affectation you are guilty 
of in  all you say and do4    #ag4 ,when
 ,i gave you a hint of it1 you asked me 
whether a man is to be  cold to what his
 friends think of him8 ,no1 but praise  
is not to be the  entertainment of every
 moment3 he that hopes for it must be   
able to  suspend the possession of it   
till proper periods of life1 or death   
itself4 ,if you would not rather be     
commended than be praiseworthy1  contemn
 little merits2 and allow no man to be  
so free with you1 as to  praise you to  
your face4    #ah4 ,your vanity by this 
means will want its food4 ,at the same  
time your  passion for esteem will be   
more fully gratified2 men will praise   
you in  their actions3 where you now    

receive one compliment you will then    
receive twenty civilities4 ,till then   
you will never have of either1  further 
than1    ,,sir1    ,your humble         
servant4'    ,,spectator1 ,vol4 #a4 ,no4
 #ch4    #ai4 ,nature does nothing in   
vain2 the ,creator of the ,universe has 
appointed every thing to a certain use  
and purpose1 and determined it to  a    
settled course and sphere of action1    
from which1 if it in the least          
deviates1 it becomes unfit to answer    
those ends for which it was  designed4  
#bj4 ,in like manner it is in the       
disposition of society3 the civil       
oeconomy is formed in a chain as well as
 the natural2 and in either case  the   
breach but of one link puts the whole in
 some disorder4 ,it is1 ,i  think1      
pretty plain1 that most of the absurdity
 and ridicule we meet  with in the      
world1 is generally owing to the        
impertinent affectation of  excelling in
 characters men are not fit for1 and for
 which nature never  designed them4     

#ba4 ,every man has one or more         
qualities which may make him useful both
  to himself and others3 ,nature never  
fails of pointing them out1 and  while  
the infant continues under her          
guardianship1 she brings him on in  his 
way1 and then offers herself for a guide
 in what remains of the  journey2 if he 
proceeds in that course1 he can hardly  
miscarry3 ,nature  makes good her       
engagements2 for as she never promises  
what she is not  able to perform1 so she
 never fails of performing what she     
promises4    #bb4 ,but the misfortune   
is1 men despise what they may be masters
 of1 and  affect what they are not fit  
for2 they reckon themselves already     
possessed of what their genius inclines 
them to1 and so bend all their  ambition
 to excel in what is out of their reach2
 thus they destroy the  use of their    
natural talents1 in the same manner as  
covetous men do  their quiet and repose2
 they can enjoy no satisfaction in what 
they  have1 because of the absurd       

inclination they are possessed with for 
what  they have not4    #bc4 ,cleanthes 
had good sense1 a great memory1 and a   
constitution  capable of the closest    
application3 in a word1 there was no    
profession  in which ,cleanthes might   
not have made a very good figure2 but   
this  won't satisfy him2 he takes up an 
unaccountable fondness for the          
character of a line gentleman2 all his  
thoughts are bent upon this1  instead of
 attending a dissection1 frequenting the
 courts of justice1 or  studying the    
,fathers4    #bd4 ,cleanthes reads      
plays1 dances1 dresses1 and spends his  
time in  drawing rooms1 instead of being
 a good lawyer1 divine1 or physician2   
,cleanthes is a down-right coxcomb1 and 
will remain to all that knew  him a     
contemptible example of talents         
misapplied4 ,it is to this  affectation 
the world owes its whole race of        
coxcombs2 ,nature in her  whole drama   
never drew such a part2 she has         
sometimes made a fool1 but a  coxcomb is

 always of a man's own making1 by       
applying his talents  otherwise than    
nature designed1 who ever bears an high 
resentment for  being put out of her    
course1 and never fails of taking       
revenge on those  that do so4    #be4   
,opposing her tendency in the           
application of a man's parts1 has the   
same success as declining from her      
course in the production of  vegetables2
 by the assistance of art and an hot    
bed1 we may possibly  extort an         
unwilling plant1 or an untimely sallad2 
but how weak1 how  tasteless1 and       
insipid6 ,just as insipid as the poetry 
of ,valerio4    #bf4 ,valerio had an    
universal character1 was genteel1 had   
learning1  thought justly1 spoke        
correctly2 'twas believed there was     
nothing in  which ,valerio did not      
excel2 and 'twas so far true1 that there
 was but  one3 ,valerio had no genius   
for poetry1 yet was resolved to be a    
poet2  he writes verses1 and takes great
 pains to convince the town1 that       

,valerio is not that extraordinary      
person he was taken for4    #bg4 ,if men
 would be content to graft upon nature1 
and assist her  operations1 what mighty 
effects might we expect8 ,tully would   
not stand  so much alone in oratory1    
,virgil in poetry1 or ,csar in war4 ,to 
build upon nature1 is laying the        
foundation upon a rock2 every thing     
disposes itself into order as it were of
 course1 and the whole work is  half    
done as soon as undertaken4 ,cicero's   
genius inclined him to  oratory1        
,virgil's to follow the train of the    
muses2 they piously  obeyed the         
admonition1 and were rewarded4    #bh4  
,had ,virgil attended the bar1 his      
modest and ingenuous virtue would       
surely have made but a very indifferent 
figure3 and ,tully's  declamatory       
inclination would have been as useless  
in poetry4 ,nature1 if  left to herself1
 leads us on in the best course1 but    
will do nothing by  compulsion and      
constraint2 and if we are not satisfied 

to go her way1 we  are always the       
greatest sufferers by it4    #bi4       
,wherever nature designs a production1  
she always disposes seeds  proper for   
it1 which are as absolutely necessary to
 the formation of any  moral or         
intellectual existence1 as they are to  
the being and growth of  plants2 and ,i 
know not by what fate and folly it is1  
that men are taught  not to reckon him  
equally absurd that will write verses in
 spite of  nature1 with that gardener   
that should undertake to raise a jonquil
 or  tulip1 without the help of their   
respective seeds4    #cj4 ,as there is  
no good or bad quality that does not    
affect both sexes1  so it is not to be  
imagined but the fair sex must have     
suffered by an  affectation of this     
nature1 at least as much as the other3  
the ill  effect of it is in none so     
conspicuous as in the two opposite      
characters  of ,clia and ,iras4 ,clia   
has all the charms of person1 together  
with an abundant sweetness of nature1   

but wants wit1 and has a very ill       
voice3 ,iras is ugly and ungenteel1 but 
has wit and good sense4    #ca4 ,if     
,clia would be silent1 her beholders    
would adore her2 if ,iras  would talk1  
her hearers would admire her2 but       
,clia's tongue runs  incessantly1 while 
,iras gives herself silent airs and soft
 languors2  so that 'tis difficult to   
persuade one's self that ,clia has      
beauty1  and ,iras wit3 each neglects   
her own excellence1 and is ambitious of 
the other's character3 ,iras would be   
thought to have as much beauty as       
,clia1 and ,clia as much wit as ,iras4  
#cb4 ,the great misfortune of this      
affectation is1 that men not only lose  
a good quality1 but also contract a bad 
one3 they not only are unfit for  what  
they were designed1 but they assign     
themselves to what they are not  fit    
for2 and instead of making a very good1 
figure one way1 make a very  ridiculous 
one in another4    #cc4 ,if ,semanthe   
would have been satisfied with her      

natural complexion1  she might still    
have been celebrated by the name of the 
olive beauty2  but ,semanthe has taken  
up an affectation to white and red1 and 
is now  distinguished by the character  
of the lady that paints so well4    #cd4
 ,in a word1 could the world be reformed
 to the obedience of that  famed        
dictate1 follow nature1 which the oracle
 of ,delphos pronounced  to ,cicero when
 he consulted what course of studies he 
should pursue1  we should see almost    
every man as eminent in his proper      
sphere as  ,tully was in his1 and should
 in a very short time find impertinence 
and affectation banished from among the 
women1 and coxcombs and false           
characters from among the men4    #ce4  
,for my part ,i could never consider    
this preposterous repugnancy to  nature 
any otherwise1 than not only as the     
greatest folly1 but also one  of the    
most heinous crimes1 since it is a      
direct opposition to the  disposition of
 providence1 and 7as ,tully expresses   

it7 like the sin of  the giants1 an     
actual rebellion against heaven4        
,,spectator1 ,vol4 ,,vi4 ,no4 #djd4     
,good ,humour and ,nature4      #a4 ,a  
man advanced in years that thinks fit to
 look back upon his former  life1 and   
calls that only life which was passed   
with satisfaction and  enjoyment1       
excluding all parts which were not      
pleasant to him1 will find  himself very
 young1 if not in his infancy4          
,sickness1 ill-humour1 and  idleness1   
will have robbed him of a great share of
 that space we  ordinarily call our     
life4    #b4 ,it is therefore the duty  
of every man that would be true to      
himself1  to obtain1 if possible1 a     
disposition to be pleased1 and place    
himself  in a constant aptitude for the 
satisfaction of his being4 ,instead of  
this1 you hardly see a man who is not   
uneasy in proportion to his  advancement
 in the arts of life4    #c4 ,an        
affected delicacy is the common         
improvement we meet with in these  who  

pretend to be refined above others3 they
 do not aim at true pleasure            
themselves1 but turn their thoughts upon
 observing the false pleasures  of other
 men4 ,such people are valetudinarians  
in society1 and they  should no more    
come into company than a sick man should
 come into the  air4    #d4 ,if a man is
 too weak to bear what is a refreshment 
to men in health1  he must still keep   
his chamber4 ,when any one in ,sir      
,roger's company  complains he is out of
 order1 he immediately calls for some   
posset drink  for him2 for which reason 
that sort of people1 who are ever       
bewailing  their constitutions in other 
places1 are the cheerfulest imaginable  
when  he is present4    #e4 ,it is a    
wonderful thing that so many1 and they  
not reckoned absurd1  shall entertain   
those with whom they converse1 by giving
 them the  history of their pains and   
aches2 and imagine such narrations their
  quota of the conversation4 ,this is1  
of all others1 the-meanest help to      

discourse1 and a man must not think at  
all1 or think himself very              
insignificant1 when he finds an account 
of his head ache answered by  another   
asking1 what news in the last mail8     
#f4 ,mutual good humour is a dress we   
ought to appear in wherever we meet1    
and we should make no mention of what   
concerns ourselves1 without it be  of   
matters wherein our friends ought to    
rejoice3 but indeed there are  crowds of
 people who put themselves in no method 
of pleasing themselves  or others2 such 
are those whom we usually call indolent 
persons4    #g4 ,indolence is1 methinks1
 an intermediate state between pleasure 
and  pain1 and very much unbecoming any 
part of our life after we are out of    
the nurse's arms4 ,such an aversion to  
labour creates a constant  weariness1   
and one would think should make         
existence itself a burden4    #h4 ,the  
indolent man descends from the dignity  
of his nature1 and makes  that being    
which was rational1 merely vegetative2  

his life consists only  in the mere     
increase and decay of a body1 which1    
with relation to the  rest of the world1
 might as well have been uninformed1 as 
the habitation  of a reasonable mind4   
#i4 ,of this kind is the life of that   
extraordinary couple1 ,harry  ,tersett  
and his lady4 ,harry was1 in the days of
 his celibacy1 one of  those pert       
creatures who have much vivacity and    
little understanding2  ,mrs4 ,rebecca   
,quickly1 whom he married1 had all that 
the fire of youth  and a lively manner  
could do towards making an agreeable    
woman4    #aj4 ,these two people of     
seeming merit fell into each other's    
arms2 and  passion being sated1 and no  
reason or good sense in either to       
succeed  it1 their life is now at a     
stand2 their meals are insipid1 and time
  tedious2 their fortune has placed them
 above care1 and their loss of  taste   
reduced them below diversion4    #aa4   
,when we talk of these as instances of  
inexistence1 we do not mean1  that in   

order to live it is necessary we should 
always be in jovial  crews1 or crowned  
with chaplets of roses1 as the merry    
fellows among the  ancients are         
described2 but it is intended by        
considering these  contraries to        
pleasure1 indolence and too much        
delicacy1 to shew that it  is prudent to
 preserve a disposition in ourselves1 to
 receive a certain  delight in all we   
hear and see4    #ab4 ,this portable    
quality of good-humour seasons all the  
parts and  occurrences we meet with2 in 
such a manner1 that there are no moments
  lost2 but they all pass with so much  
satisfaction1 that the heaviest of      
loads 7when it is a load7 that of time1 
is never felt by us4    #ac4 ,varilas   
has this quality to the highest         
perfection1 and  communicates it        
wherever he appears3 the sad1 the merry1
 the severe1 the  melancholy1 shew a new
 cheerfulness when he comes amongst     
them4 ,at the  same time no one can     
repeat any thing that ,varilas has ever 

said that  deserves repetition2 but the 
man has that innate goodness of temper1 
that he is welcome to every body1       
because every man thinks he is so to    
him4    #ad4 ,he does not seem to       
contribute any thing to the mirth of the
  company2 and yet upon reflection you  
find it all happened by his being       
there4 ,i thought it was whimsically    
said of a gentleman1 ,that if  ,varilas 
had wit1 it would be the best wit in the
 world4 ,it is certain  when a well     
corrected lively imagination and        
good-breeding are added to  a sweet     
disposition1 they qualify it to be one  
of the greatest  blessings1 as well as  
pleasures of life4    #ae4 ,men would   
come into company with ten times the    
pleasure they do1 if  they were sure of 
bearing nothing which should shock them1
 as well as  expected what would please 
them4 ,when we know every person that is
  spoken of is represented by one who   
has no ill-will1 and every thing  that  
is mentioned described by one that is   

apt to set it in the best  light1 the   
entertainment must be delicate1 because 
the cook has nothing  bought to his     
hand1 but what is the most excellent in 
its kind4    #af4 ,beautiful pictures   
are the entertainments of pure minds1   
and  deformities of the corrupted4 ,it  
is a degree towards the life of angels1 
when we enjoy conversation wherein there
 is nothing present but in its          
excellence2 and a degree towards that of
 demons1 wherein nothing is  shewn but  
in its degeneracy4    ,,spectator1 ,vol4
 ,,ii4 ,no4 #ajj4          ,friendship4 
#a4 ,one would think that the larger the
 company is in which we are  engaged1   
the greater variety of thoughts and     
subjects would be started  in discourse2
 but instead of this1 we find that      
conversation is never so  much          
straitened and confined as in numerous  
assemblies4    #b4 ,when a multitude    
meet together upon any subject of       
discourse1 their  debates are taken up  
chiefly with forms2 and general         

positions2 nay1 if  we come into a more 
contracted assembly of men and women1   
the talk  generally runs upon the       
weather1 fashions1 news1 and the like   
public  topics4    #c4 ,in proportion as
 conversation gets into clubs and knots 
of friends1  it descends into           
particulars1 and grows more free and    
communicative2 but  the most open1      
instructive1 and unreserved discourse1  
is that which  passes between two       
persons who are familiar and intimate   
friends4    #d4 ,on these occasions1 a  
man gives a loose to every passion1 and 
every  thought that is uppermost        
discovers his most retired opinions of  
persons  and things1 tries the beauty   
and strength of his sentiments1 and     
exposes  his whole soul to the          
examination of his friend4    #e4 ,tully
 was the first who observed1 that       
friendship improves  happiness and      
abates misery1 by the doubling of our   
joy and dividing of  our grief2 a       
thought in which he hath been followed  

by all the essayers  upon friendship1   
that have written since his time4 ,sir  
,francis ,bacon  has finally described  
other advantages1 or1 as he calls them1 
fruits of  friendship2 and indeed there 
is no subject of morality which has been
  better handled and more exhausted than
 this4    #f4 ,among the several fine   
things which have been spoken of1 ,i    
shall beg  leave to quote some out of a 
very ancient author1 whose book would be
  regarded by our modern wits as one of 
the most shining tracts of  morality    
that is extant1 if it appeared under the
 name of a ,confucius  or of any        
celebrated ,grecian philosopher2 ,i mean
 the little ,apocryphal  ,treatise1     
entitled the ,wisdom of the ,son of     
,sirach4    #g4 ,how finely has he      
described the art of making friends1 by 
an obliging  and affable behaviour6 ,and
 laid down that precept which a late    
excellent  author has delivered as his  
own1 ,that we should have many          
well-wishers1  but few friends4 ,sweet  

language will multiply friends2 and a   
fair-speaking tongue will increase kind 
greetings4 ,be in peace with  many1     
nevertheless have but one counsellor of 
a thousand4    #h4 ,with what prudence  
does he caution us in the choice of our 
friends6  ,and with what strokes of     
nature 7,i could almost say of humour7  
has he  described the behaviour of a    
treacherous and self-interested         
friend--,if  thou wouldest get a friend1
 prove him first1 and be not hasty to   
credit  him3 for some man is a friend   
for his own occasion1 and will not abide
  in the day of thy trouble4    #i4 ,and
 there is a friend1 who being turned to 
enmity and strife1 will  discover thy   
reproach4 ,again1 ,some friend is a     
companion at the table1  and will not   
continue in the day of thy affliction3  
but in thy  prosperity he will be as    
thyself1 and will be bold over thy      
servants4 ,if  thou be brought low1 he  
will be against thee1 and hide himself  
from thy  face4    #aj4 ,what can be    

more strong and pointed than the        
following verse8  ,separate thyself from
 thine enemies1 and take heed of thy    
friends4 ,in  the next words he         
particularizes one of those fruits of   
friendship which  is described at length
 by the two famous authors above        
mentioned1 and  falls into a general    
eulogium of friendship1 which is very   
just as well  as very sublime4    #aa4  
,a faithful friend is a strong defence2 
and he that hath found such  a one1 hath
 found a treasure4 ,nothing doth        
countervail a faithful  friend1 and his 
excellence is invaluable4 ,a faithful   
friend is the  medicine of life2 and    
they that fear the ,lord1 shall find    
him4 ,whoso  feareth the ,lord1 shall   
direct his friendship aright2 for as he 
is1 so  shall his neighbour 7that is1   
his friend7 be also4    #ab4 ,i do not  
remember to have met with any saying    
that has pleased me  more than that of a
 friend's being the medicine of life1 to
 express the  efficacy of friendship in 

healing the pains and anguish which     
naturally  cleave to our existence in   
this world2 and am wonderfully pleased  
with  the turn in the last sentence1    
,that a virtuous man shall1 as a        
blessing1  meet with a friend who is as 
virtuous as himself4    #ac4 ,there is  
another saying in the same author1 which
 would have been  very much admired in  
an heathen writer3 ,forsake not an old  
friend1 for  the new is not comparable  
to him3 a new friend is as new wine2    
when it  is old thou shalt drink it with
 pleasure4    #ad4 ,with what strength  
of allusion1 and force of thought1 has  
he  described the breaches and          
violations of friendship6 ,whoso casteth
 a  stone at the birds1 frayeth them    
away2 and he that upbraideth his        
friend1 breaketh friendship4 ,though    
thou drawest a sword at a friend1  yet  
despair not1 for there may be a         
returning to favor2 if thou hast  opened
 thy mouth against thy friend1 fear not1
 for there may be a  reconciliation2    

except for upbraiding1 or pride1 or     
disclosing of  secrets1 or a treacherous
 wound2 for1 for these things1 every    
friend  will depart4    #ae4 ,we may    
observe in this and several other       
precepts in this author1  those little  
familiar instances and illustrations    
which are so much  admired in the moral 
writings of ,horace and ,epictetus4     
,there are  very beautiful instances of 
this nature in the following pages1     
which  are likewise written upon the    
same subject3    #af4 ,whoso discovereth
 secrets1 loseth his credit1 and shall  
never find  a friend to his mind4 ,love 
thy friend1 and be faithful unto him2   
but if  thou betrayest his secret1      
follow no more after him2 for as a man  
hath  destroyed his enemy1 so hast thou 
lost the love of thy friend2 as one     
that letteth a bird go out of his hand1 
so hast thou let thy friend go1  and    
shall not get him again3 follow after   
him no more1 for he is too far  off2 he 
is as a roe escaped out of the snare4   

,as for a wound1 it may be  bound up1   
and after reviling1 there may be        
reconciliation2 but he that  betrayeth  
secrets1 is without hope4    #ag4 ,among
 the several qualifications of a good   
friend1 this wise man has  very justly  
singled out constancy and faithfulness  
as the principal2 to  these1 others have
 added virtue1 knowledge1 discretion1   
equality in age  and fortune1 and1 as   
,cicero calls it1 morum comitas1 a      
pleasantness  of temper4    #ah4 ,if ,i 
were to give my opinion upon such an    
exhausted subject1 ,i  should join to   
these other qualifications a certain    
quibility or  evenness of behaviour4 ,a 
man often contracts a friendship with   
one whom  perhaps he does not find out  
till after a year's conversation3 when1 
on  a sudden1 some latent ill-humour    
breaks out upon him1 which he never     
discovered or suspected at his first    
entering into an intimacy with him4     
#ai4 ,there are several persons who1 in 
some certain periods of their  lives1   

are inexpressibly agreeable1 and in     
others as odious and  detestable4       
,martial has given us a very pretty     
picture of one of these  species in the 
following epigram3        ,difficilis   
facilas1 jocundus1 acerbus1 es idem1    
,nec tecum possum vivere2 nec sine te4  
,epig4 #dg4 #a4 #ab4        ,in all thy 
humours1 whether grave or mellow1       
,thou'rt such a touchy1 testy1 pleasant 
fellow2      ,hast so much wit and      
mirth1 and spleen about thee1           
,there is no living with thee nor       
without thee4    #bj4 ,it is very       
unlucky for a man to be entangled in a  
friendship with  one1 who by these      
changes and vicissitudes of humour is   
sometimes  amiable1 and sometimes       
odious3 and as most men are at some     
times in an  admirable frame and        
disposition of mind1 it should be one of
 the  greatest tasks of wisdom to keep  
ourselves well when we are so1 and      
never to go out of that which is the    
agreeable part of our character4        

,,spectator1 ,vol4 #a4 ,no4 #fh4    #ba4
 ,friendship is a strong and habitual   
inclination in two persons to  promote  
the good and happiness of one another4  
,though the pleasures and  advantages of
 friendship have been largely celebrated
 by the best moral  writers1 and are    
considered by all as great ingredients  
of human  happiness1 we very rarely meet
 with the practice of this virtue an the
  world4    #bb4 ,every man is ready to 
give a long catalogue of those virtues  
and  good qualities he expects to find  
in the person of a friend1 but very  few
 of us are careful to cultivate them in 
ourselves4    ,love and esteem are the  
first principles of friendship1 which   
always is  imperfect where either of    
these two is wanting4    #bc4 ,as on the
 one hand1 we are soon ashamed of loving
 a man whom we  cannot esteem2 so on the
 other1 though we are truly sensible of 
a man's  abilities1 we can never raise  
ourselves to the warmths of friendship1 
without an affectionate good will       

towards his person4    #bd4 ,friendship 
immediately banishes envy under all its 
disguises4 ,a man  who can once doubt   
whether he should rejoice in his        
friend's being  happier than himself1   
may depend upon it1 that he is an utter 
stranger  to this virtue4    #be4 ,there
 is something in friendship so very     
great and noble1 that in  those         
fictitious stories which are invented to
 the honor of any  particular person1   
the authors have thought it as necessary
 to make  their hero a friend as a      
lover4 ,achilles has his ,patroclus1 and
  neas his ,achates4    #bf4 ,in the    
first of these instances we may observe1
 for the reputation  of the subject ,i  
am treating of1 that ,greece was almost 
ruined by the  hero's love1 but was     
preserved by his friendship4    #bg4    
,the character of ,achates suggests to  
us an observation we may  often make on 
the intimacies of great men1 who        
frequently choose their  companions     
rather for the qualities of the heart1  

than those of the  head3 and prefer     
fidelity1 in an easy1 inoffensive1      
complying temper1 to  those endowments  
which make a much greater figure among  
mankind4    #bh4 ,i do not remember that
 ,achates1 who is represented as the    
first  favourite1 either gives his      
advice1 or strikes a blow through the   
whole  neid4    ,a friendship1 which    
makes the least noise1 is very often    
most useful2  for which reason ,i should
 prefer a prudent friend to a zealous   
one4    #bi4 ,atticus1 one of the best  
men of ancient ,rome1 was a very        
remarkable instance of what ,i am here  
speaking4--,this extraordinary  person1 
amidst the civil wars of his country1   
when he saw the designs of  all parties 
equally tended to the subvention of     
liberty1 by constantly  preserving the  
esteem and affection of both the        
competitors1 found means  to serve his  
friends on either side3 and while he    
sent money to young  ,marius1 whose     
father was declared an enemy of the     

commonwealth1 he was  himself one of    
,sylla's chief favourites1 and always   
near that general4    #cj4 ,during the  
war between ,csar and ,pompey1 he still 
maintained the  same conduct4 ,after the
 death of ,csar1 he sent money to       
,brutus1 in  his troubles1 and did a    
thousand good offices to ,anthony's wife
 and  friends1 when the party seemed    
ruined4 ,lastly1 even in that bloody war
  between ,anthony and ,augustus1       
,atticus still kept his place in both   
their friendships2 insomuch1 that the   
first1 says ,cornelius ,nepos1  whenever
 he was absent from ,rome1 in any part  
of the empire1 writ  punctually to him  
what he was doing1 what he read1 and    
whither he  intended to go2 and the     
latter gave him constantly an exact     
account of  all his affairs4    #ca4 ,a 
likeness of inclinations in every       
particular is so far from being         
requisite to form a benevolence in two  
minds towards each other1 as it  is     
generally imagined1 that ,i believe we  

shall find some of the firmest          
friendships to have been contracted     
between persons of different  humours2  
the mind being often pleased with those 
perfections which are  new to it1 and   
which it does not find among its own    
accomplishments4    #cb4 ,besides that a
 man in some measure supplies his own   
defects1 and  fancies himself at        
second-hand possessed of those good     
qualities and  endowments1 which are in 
the possession of him who in the eye of 
the  world is looked on as his other    
self4    #cc4 ,the most difficult       
province in friendship is the letting a 
man see  his faults and errors1 which   
should1 if possible1 be so contrived1   
that  he may perceive our advice is     
given him not so much to please         
ourselves1  as for his own advantage4   
,the reproaches1 therefore1 of a friend1
 should  always be strictly just1 and   
not too frequent4    #cd4 ,the violent  
desire of pleasing in the person        
reproved may otherwise  change into a   

despair of doing it1 while he finds     
himself censured for  faults he is not  
conscious of4 ,a mind that is softened  
and humanized by  friendship1 cannot    
bear frequent reproaches3 either it must
 quite sink  under the oppression1 or   
abate considerably of the value and     
esteem it  had for him who bestows them4
    #ce4 ,the proper business of        
friendship is to inspire life and       
courage2  and a soul1 thus supported1   
out-does itself2 whereas if it be       
unexpectedly deprived of those succours1
 it droops and languishes4    #cf4 ,we  
are in some measure more inexcusable if 
we violate our duties to  a friend1 than
 to a relation2 since the former arise  
from a voluntary  choice1 the latter    
from a necessity1 to which we could not 
give our own  consent4    #cg4 ,as it   
has been said on one side1 that a man   
ought not to break with  a faulty       
friend1 that he may not expose the      
weakness of his choice2 it  will        
doubtless hold much stronger with       

respect to a worthy one1 that he  may   
never be upbraided for having lost so   
valuable a treasure which was  once in  
his possession4          ,detraction and
 ,falsehood      #a4 ,i have not seen   
you lately at any of the places where ,i
 visit1 so  that ,i am afraid you are   
wholly unacquainted with what passes    
among my  part of the world1 who are1   
though ,i say it1 without controversy1  
the  most accomplished and best bred in 
the town4    #b4 ,give me leave to tell 
you1 that ,i am extremely discomposed   
when ,i  hear scandal1 and am an utter  
enemy to all manner of detraction1 and  
think it the greatest meanness that     
people of distinction can be guilty  of2
 however1 it is hardly possible to come 
into company1 where you do  not find    
them pulling one another to pieces1 and 
that from no other  provocation but that
 of hearing any one commended4    #c4   
,merit1 both as to wit and beauty1 is   
become no other than the  possession of 
a few trifling people's favor1 which you

 cannot possibly  arrive at1 if you have
 really any thing in you that is        
deserving4    #d4 ,what they would bring
 to pass is1 to make all good and evil  
consist  in report1 and with whisper1   
calumnies1 and impertinence1 to have the
  conduct of those reports4    #e4 ,by  
this means innocents are blasted upon   
their first appearance in  town3 and    
there is nothing more required to make a
 young woman the  object of envy and    
hatred1 than to deserve love and        
admiration4    #f4 ,this abominable     
endeavour to suppressor lessen every    
thing that is  praise-worthy1 is as     
frequent among the men as women4 ,if ,i 
can remember  what passed at a visit    
last night1 it will serve as an instance
 that the  sexes are equally inclined to
 defamation1 with equal malice1 with    
equal  impotence4    #g4 ,jack ,triplett
 came into my ,lady ,airy's about eight 
of the clock4  ,you know the manner we  
sit at a visit1 and ,i need not describe
 the  circle2 but ,mr4 ,triplett came   

in1 introduced by two tapers supported  
by a spruce servant1 whose hair is under
 a cap till my lady's candles  are all  
lighted up1 and the hour of ceremony    
begins4    #h4 ,i say ,jack ,triplett   
came in1 and singing 7for he is really  
good  company7 ',every feature1 charming
 creature1'--he went on4 ,it is a most  
unreasonable thing that people cannot go
 peaceably to see their friends1  but   
these murderers are let loose4    #i4   
,such a shape6 such an air6 what a      
glance was that as her chariot  passed  
by mine6--,my lady herself interrupted  
him3 ,pray1 who is this fine  thing8--,i
 warrant1 says another1 'tis the        
creature ,i was telling your  ladyship  
of just now4    #aj4 ,you were telling  
of8 says ,jack2 ,i wish ,i had been so  
happy as to  have come in and heard you1
 for ,i have not words to say what she  
is3 but  if an agreeable height1 a      
modest air1 a virgin shame1 and         
impatience of  being beheld1 amidst a   
blaze of ten thousand charms--,the whole

 room flew  out--,oh1 ,mr4 ,triplett6   
,when ,mrs4 ,lofty1 a known prude1 said 
she  believed she knew whom the         
gentleman meant2 but she was1 indeed1 as
 he  civilly represented her1 impatient 
of being beheld4 ,then turning to the   
lady next her--,the most unbred creature
 you ever saw4    #aa4 ,another pursued 
the discourse3--,as unbred1 madam1 as   
you may think  her1 she is extremely    
belied if she is the novice she appears2
 she was  last week at a ball till two  
in the morning3 ,mr4 ,triplett knows    
whether he was the happy man that took  
care of her home2 but--,this was        
followed by some particular exception   
that each woman in the room made  to    
some peculiar grace or advantage2 so    
that ,mr4 ,triplett was beaten  from one
 limb and feature to another1 till he   
was forced to resign the  whole woman4  
#ab4 ,in the end1 ,i took notice        
,triplett recorded all this malice in   
his  heart2 and saw in his countenance1 
and a certain waggish shrug1 that he    

designed to repeat the conversation3 ,i 
therefore let the discourse die1  and   
soon after took an occasion to commend a
 certain gentleman of my  acquaintance  
for a person of singular modesty1       
courage1 integrity1 and  withal1 as a   
man of an entertaining conversation1 to 
which advantages he  had a shape and    
manner peculiarly graceful4    #ac4 ,mr4
 ,triplett1 who is a woman's man1 seemed
 to hear me1 with  patience enough1     
commend the qualities of his mind2 he   
never heard1  indeed1 but that he was a 
very honest man1 and no fool2 but for a 
fine  gentleman1 he must ask pardon4    
,upon no other foundation than this1    
,mr4  ,triplett took occasion to give   
the gentleman's pedigree1 by what       
methods some part of the estate was     
acquired1 how much it was beholden  to a
 marriage for the present circumstances 
of it3 after all1 he could  see nothing 
but a common man in his person1 his     
breeding or  under-,standing4    #ad4   
,thus1 ,mr4 ,spectator1 this impertinent

 humour of diminishing every  one who is
 produced in conversation to their      
advantage1 runs through the  world2 and 
,i am1 ,i confess1 so fearful of the    
force of ill tongues1 that  ,i have     
begged of all those who are my          
well-wishers1 never to commend me1  for 
it will but bring my frailties into     
examination1 and ,i had rather be       
unobserved1 than conspicuous for        
disputed perfections4    #ae4 ,i am     
confident a thousand young people1 who  
would have been  ornaments to society1  
have1 from fear of scandal1 never dared 
to exert  themselves in the polite arts 
of life4--,their lives have passed away 
in  an odious rusticity1 in spite of    
great advantages of person1 genius and  
fortune4    #af4 ,there is a vicious    
terror of being blamed in some          
well-inclined  people1 and a wicked     
pleasure in suppressing them in others2 
both which  ,i recommend to your        
spectatorial wisdom to animadvert upon3 
and if you  can be successful in it1 ,i 

need not say how much you will deserve  
of the  town2 but new toasts will owe to
 you their beauty1 and new wits their   
fame4    #ag4 ,truth and reality have   
all the advantages of appearance1 and   
many  more4 ,if the show of any thing be
 good for any thing1 ,i am sure         
sincerity is better3 for why does any   
man dissemble1 or seem to be that  which
 he is not1 but because he thinks it    
good to have such a quality as  he      
pretends to8 for to counterfeit and     
dissemble1 is to put on the  appearance 
of some real excellency4    #ah4 ,now   
the best way in the world for a man to  
seem to be any thing1 is  really to be  
what he would seem to be4 ,besides that1
 it is many times as  troublesome to    
make good the pretence of a good        
quality1 as to have it2  and if a man   
have it not1 it is ten to one but he is 
discovered to want  it1 and then all his
 pains and labour to seem to have it1 is
 lost4 ,there  is something unnatural in
 painting1 which a skilful eye will     

easily  discern from native beauty and  
complexion4    #ai4 ,it is hard to      
personate and act a part long2 for where
 truth is not  at the bosom2 nature will
 always be endeavouring to return1 and  
will  peep out and betray herself one   
time or other4 ,therefore1 if any man   
think it convenient to seem good1 let   
him be so indeed1 and then his  goodness
 will appear to every body's            
satisfaction2 so that upon all  accounts
 sincerity is true wisdom4    #bj4      
,particularly as to the affairs of this 
world1 integrity hath many  advantages  
over all the fine and artificial ways of
 dissimulation and  deceit2 it is much  
the plainer and easier1 much the safer  
and more  secure way of dealing in the  
world2 it has less of trouble and       
difficulty1 of entanglement and         
perplexity1 of danger and hazard in it3 
it is the shortest and nearest way to   
our end1 carrying us thither in a       
straight line1 and will hold out and    
last longest4    #ba4 ,the arts of      

deceit and cunning do continually grow  
weaker and less  effectual and          
serviceable to them that use them2      
whereas integrity gains  strength by    
use1 and the more and longer any man    
practiseth it1 the  greater service it  
does him1 by confirming his reputation1 
and  encouraging those with whom he hath
 to do1 to repose the greatest trust    
and confidence in him1 which is an      
unspeakable advantage in the business   
and affairs of life4    #bb4 ,truth is  
always consistent with itself1 and needs
 nothing to help it  out2 it is always  
near at hand1 and sits upon our lips1   
and is ready to  drop out before we are 
aware2 whereas a lie is troublesome1 and
 sets a  man's invention upon the rack1 
and one trick needs a great many more to
  make it good4    #bc4 ,it is like     
building upon a false foundation1 which 
continually  stands in need of props to 
shoar it up1 and proves at last more    
chargeable1 than to have raised a       
substantial building at first upon a    

true and solid foundation2 for sincerity
 is firm and substantial1 and  there is 
nothing hollow and unsound in it1 and   
because it is plain and  open1 fears no 
discovery3    #bd4 ,of which the crafty 
man is always in danger1 and when he    
thinks he  walks in the dark1 all his   
pretences are so transparent1 that he   
who  runs may read them2 he is the last 
man that finds himself to be found  out1
 and whilst he takes it for granted that
 he makes fools of others1  he renders  
himself ridiculous4    #be4 ,add to all 
this1 that sincerity is the most        
compendious wisdom1 and  an excellent   
instrument for the speedy dispatch of   
business2 it creates  confidence in     
those we have to deal with1 saves the   
labor of many  inquiries1 and brings    
things to an issue in a few words4      
#bf4 ,it is like travelling2 in a plain 
beaten road1 which commonly brings  a   
man sooner to his journey's end than    
by-ways1 in which men often lose        
themselves4 ,in a word1 whatsoever      

convenience may be thought to be in     
falsehood and dissimulation1 it is soon 
over1 but the inconvenience of  it is   
perpetual1 because it brings a man under
 an everlasting jealousy  and suspicion1
 so that he is not believed when he     
speaks truth1 nor  trusted when perhaps 
he means honestly2 when a man hath once 
forfeited  the reputation of his        
integrity1 he is set last1 and nothing  
will then  serve his turn1 neither truth
 nor falsehood4    #bg4 ,and ,i have    
often thought1 that ,god hath1 in his   
great wisdom1 hid  from men of false and
 dishonest minds1 the wonderful         
advantages of truth  and integrity to   
the prosperity even of our worldly      
affairs2 these men  are so blinded by   
their covetousness and ambition1 that   
they cannot look  beyond a present      
advantage1 nor forbear to seize upon it1
 though by ways  never so indirect2 they
 cannot see so far1 as to the remote    
consequences  of a steady integrity1 and
 the vast benefit and advantages which  

it will  bring a man at last4    #bh4   
,were but this sort of men wise and     
clear sighted enough to discern  this1  
they would be honest out of very        
knavery2 not out of any love to  honesty
 and virtue1 but with a crafty design to
 promote and advance more  effectually  
their own interests2 and therefore the  
justice of the ,divine  ,providence hath
 hid this truest point of wisdom from   
their eyes1 that  bad men might not be  
upon equal terms with the just and      
upright1 and  serve their own wicked    
designs by honest and lawful means4     
#bi4 ,indeed if a man were only to deal 
in the world for a day1 and should      
never have occasion to converse more    
with mankind1 never more need their     
good opinion or good word1 it were then 
no great matter 7speaking as to  the    
concernments of this world7 if a man    
spent his reputation all at  once1 or   
ventured it at one throw4    #cj4 ,but  
if he be to continue in the world1 and  
would have the advantage  of            

conversation while he is in it1 let him 
make use of truth and  sincerity in all 
his words and actions2 for nothing but  
this will last  and hold out to the end2
 all other arts will fail1 but truth and
  integrity will carry a man through1   
and bear him out to the last4    #ca4   
,when ,aristotle was once asked1 what a 
man could gain by uttering  falsehoods8 
he replied1 not to be credited when he  
shall tell the  truth4    ,the character
 of a lyar is at once so hateful and    
contemptible1 that  even of those who   
have lost their virtue it might be      
expected1 that from  the violation of   
truth they should be restrained by their
 pride4 ,almost  every other vice that  
disgraces human nature1 may be kept in  
countenance  by applause and            
association4    #cb4 ,the corrupter of  
virgin innocence sees himself envied by 
the men1  and at least not detested by  
the women3 the drunkard may easily unite
  with beings1 devoted like himself to  
noisy merriment or silent               

insensibility1 who will celebrate his   
victories over the novices of           
intemperance1 boast themselves the      
companions of his prowess1 and tell     
with rapture of the multitudes whom     
unsuccessful emulation has hurried  to  
the grave3 even the robber and the      
cut-throat have their followers1  who   
admire their address and intrepidity1   
their stratagems of rapine1  and their  
fidelity to the gang4    #cc4 ,the lyar1
 and only the lyar1 is invariably and   
universally despised1  abandoned and    
disowned3 he has no domestic            
consolations1 which he can  oppose to   
the censure of mankind2 he can retire to
 no fraternity where  his crimes may    
stand in the place of virtues1 but is   
given up to the  hisses of the          
multitude1 without friend and without   
apologist4 ,it is the  peculiar         
condition of falsehood1 to be equally   
detested by the good and  bad3 ,the     
devils1 says ,sir ,thomas ,brown1 do not
 tell lies to one  another2 for truth is

 necessary to all societies2 nor can the
 society of  hell subsist without it4   
#cd4 ,it is natural to expect1 that a   
crime thus generally detested1  should  
be generally avoided2 at least that none
 should expose himself to  unabated and 
unpitied infamy1 without an adequate    
temptation2 and that  to guilt so easily
 detected1 and so severely punished1 an 
adequate  temptation would not readily  
be found4    #ce4 ,yet so it is1 that in
 defiance of censure and contempt1 truth
 is  frequently violated2 and scarcely  
the most vigilant unremitted            
circumspection will secure him that     
mixes with mankind1 from being  hourly  
deceived by men of whom it can scarcely 
be imagined1 that they  mean an injury  
to him or profit to themselves2 even    
where the subject of  conversation could
 not have been expected to put the      
passions in motion1  or to have excited 
either hope or fear1 or zeal or         
malignity1 sufficient  to induce any man
 to put his reputation in hazard1       

however little he  might value it1 or to
 overpower the love of truth1 however   
weak might be  its influence4    #cf4   
,the casuists have very diligently      
distinguished lies into their  several  
classes1 according to their various     
degrees of malignity2 but  they have1 ,i
 think1 generally omitted that which is 
most common1 and1  perhaps1 not less    
mischievous2 which1 since the moralists 
have not given  it a name1 ,i shall     
distinguish as the lie of vanity4    ,to
 vanity may justly be imputed most of   
the falsehoods which every man          
perceives hourly playing upon his ear1  
and perhaps most of those that  are     
propagated with success4    #cg4 ,to the
 lie of commerce1 and the lie of malice1
 the motive is so  apparent1 that they  
are seldom negligently or implicitly    
received3  suspicion is always watchful 
over the practices of interest2 and     
whatever the hope of gain1 or desire of 
mischief1 can prompt one man to  assert1
 another is1 by reasons equally cogent1 

incited to refute4 ,but  vanity pleases 
herself with such slight gratifications1
 and looks  forward to pleasure so      
remotely consequential1 that her        
practices raise  no alarm1 and her      
stratagems are not easily discovered4   
#ch4 ,vanity is1 indeed1 often suffered 
to pass unpursued by suspicion2  because
 he that would watch her motions1 can   
never be at rest2 fraud and  malice are 
bounded in their influence2 some        
opportunity of time and  place is       
necessary to their agency2 but scarce   
any man is abstracted one  moment from  
his vanity2 and he1 to whom truth       
affords no gratifications1  is generally
 inclined to seek them in falsehoods4   
#ci4 ,it is remarked by ,sir ,kenelm    
,digby1 that every man has a desire  to 
appear superior to others1 though it    
were only in having seen what  they have
 not seen4    ,such an accidental       
advantage1 since it neither implies     
merit1 nor  confers dignity1 one would  
think should not be desired so much as  

to be  counterfeited2 yet even this     
vanity1 trifling as it is1 produces     
innumerable narratives1 all equally     
false1 but more or less credible1 in    
proportion to the skill or confidence of
 the relater4    #dj4 ,how many may a   
man of diffusive conversation count     
among his  acquaintances1 whose lives   
have been signalized by numberless      
escapes2  who never cross the river but 
in a storm1 or take a journey into the  
country without more adventures than    
befel the knight-errants of ancient     
times in pathless forests or enchanted  
castles6 ,how many must he know1  to    
whom portents and prodigies are of daily
 occurrence2 and for whom  nature is    
hourly working wonders invisible to     
every other eye1 only to  supply them   
with subjects of conversation6    #da4  
,others there are who amuse themselves  
with the dissemination of  falsehood1 at
 greater hazard of detection and        
disgrace2 men marked out  by some lucky 
planet for universal confidence and     

friendship1 who have1  been consulted in
 every difficulty1 entrusted with every 
secret1 and  summoned to every          
transaction3 it is the supreme felicity 
of these men1  to stun all companies    
with noisy information2 to still doubt1 
and  overbear opposition1 with certain  
knowledge or authentic intelligence4    
#db4 ,a lyar of this kind1 with a strong
 memory or brisk imagination1 is  often 
the oracle of an obscure club1 and1 till
 time discovers his  impostures1        
dictates to his hearers with            
uncontrolled authority3 for if  a public
 question be started1 he was present at 
the debate2 if a new  fashion be        
mentioned1 he was at court the first day
 of its appearance2  if a new           
performance of literature draws the     
attention of the public1 he  has        
patronized the author1 and seen his work
 in manuscript2 if a  criminal of       
eminence be condemned to die1 he often  
predicted his fate1  and endeavoured his
 reformation2 and who that lives at a   

distance from  the scene of action1 will
 dare to contradict a man1 who reports  
from his  own eyes and ears1 and to whom
 all persons and affairs are thus       
intimately known8    #de4 ,this kind of 
falsehood is generally successful for a 
time1 because  it is practised at first 
with timidity and caution2 but the      
prosperity  of the lyar is of short     
duration2 the reception of one story is 
always  an incitement to the forgery of 
another less probable2 and he goes on   
to triumph over tacit credulity1 till   
pride or reason rises up against  him1  
and his companions will no longer endure
 to see him wiser than  themselves4     
#dd4 ,it is apparent1 that the inventors
 of all these fictions intend some      
exaltation of themselves1 and are led   
off by the pursuit of honour from  their
 attendance upon truth3 their narratives
 always imply some  consequence in favor
 of their courage1 their sagacity1 or   
their  activity1 their familiarity with 
the learned1 or their reception among   

the great2 they are always bribed by the
 present pleasure of seeing  themselves 
superior to those that surround them1   
and receiving the  homage of silent     
attention and envious admiration4       
#de4 ,but vanity is sometimes excited to
 fiction by less visible                
gratifications3 the present age abounds 
with a race of lyars who are  content   
with the consciousness of falsehood1 and
 whose pride is to  deceive others      
without any gain or glory to themselves4
 ,of this tribe it  is the supreme      
pleasure to remark a lady in the        
play-house or the park1  and to publish1
 under the character of a man suddenly  
enamoured1 an  advertisement in the news
 of the next day1 containing a minute   
description of her person and her dress4
    #df4 ,from this artifice1 however1  
no other effect can be expected1 than   
perturbations which the writer can never
 see1 and conjectures of which  he can  
never be informed3 some mischief1       
however1 he hopes he has done2  and to  

have done mischief is of some           
importance4 ,he sets his invention  to  
work again1 and produces a narrative of 
a robbery1 or a murder1 with  all the   
circumstances of the time and place     
accurately adjusted4 ,this is  a jest of
 greater effect and longer duration4 ,if
 he fixes his scene at a  proper        
distance1 he may for several days keep a
 wife in terror for her  husband1 or a  
mother for her son2 and please himself  
with reflecting1  that by his abilities 
and address some addition is made to the
 miseries  of life4    #dg4 ,there is1  
,i think1 an ancient law in ,scotland1  
by which  ,leasing-making was capitally 
punished4 ,i am1 indeed1 far from       
desiring  to increase in this kingdom   
the number of executions2 yet ,i cannot 
but  think1 that they who destroy the   
confidence of society1 weaken the       
credit of intelligence1 and interrupt   
the security of life2 harrass the       
delicate with shame1 and perplex the    
timorous with alarms2 might very        

properly be awakened to a sense of their
 crimes1 by denunciations of a          
whipping-post or a pillory3 since many  
are so insensible of right and  wrong1  
that they have no standard of action but
 the law2 nor feel guilt1  but as they  
dread punishment4          ,the         
,importance of ,punctuality4      #a4   
,it is observed in the writings of      
,boyle1 that the excellency of          
manufactures and the facility of labor  
would be much promoted1 if the  various 
expedients and contrivances which lie   
concealed in private  hands1 were1 by   
reciprocal communications1 made         
generally known2 for  there are few     
operations that are not performed by one
 or other with  some peculiar           
advantages1 which1 though singly of     
little importance1  would1 by           
conjunction and concurrence1 open new   
inlets to knowledge1 and  give new      
powers to diligence4    #b4 ,there are  
in like manner several moral            
excellencies distributed among  the     

various classes of mankind1 which he    
that converses in the world  should     
endeavor to assemble in himself4 ,it was
 said by the learned  ,cajucius1 that he
 never read more than one book1 by which
 he was not  instructed2 and he that    
shall inquire after virtue with ardour  
and  attention1 will seldom find a man  
by whose example or sentiments he may   
not be improved4    #c4 ,every          
profession has some essential and       
appropriate virtue1 without  which there
 can be no hope of honor or success1 and
 which1 as it is more  or less          
cultivated1 confers within its sphere of
 activity different  degrees of merit   
and reputation4 ,as the astrologers     
range the  subdivisions of mankind under
 the planets which they suppose to      
influence their lives1 the moralist may 
distribute them according to the        
virtues which they necessarily practise1
 and consider them as  distinguished by 
prudence or fortitude1 diligence or     
patience4    #d4 ,so much are the modes 

of excellence settled by time and place1
 that  man may be heard boasting in one 
street of that which they would         
anxiously conceal in another4 ,the      
grounds of scorn and esteem1 the  topics
 of praise and satire1 are varied       
according to the several  virtues or    
vices which the course of our lives has 
disposed us to admire  or abhor2 but he 
who is solicitous for his own           
improvement1 must not  suffer his       
affairs to be limited by local          
reputation1 but select from  every tribe
 of mortals their characteristical      
virtues1 and constellate  in himself the
 scattered graces which shine single in 
other men4    #e4 ,the chief praise to  
which a trader generally aspires1 is    
that of  punctuality1 or an exact and   
rigorous observance of commercial       
promises  and engagements2 nor is there 
any vice of which he so much dreads the 
imputation1 as of negligence and        
instability4 ,this is a quality which   
the interest of mankind requires to be  

diffused through all the ranks of  life1
 but which1 however useful and valuable1
 many seem content to want3  it is      
considered as a vulgar and ignoble      
virtue1 below the ambition of           
greatness1 or attention of wit1 scarcely
 requisite among men of gaiety  and     
spirit1 and sold at its highest rate    
when it is sacrificed to a  frolic or a 
jest4    #f4 ,every man has daily       
occasion to remark what vexations and   
inconveniences arise from this privilege
 of deceiving one another4 ,the  active 
and vivacious have so long disdained the
 restraints of truth1  that promises and
 appointments have lost their cogency1  
and both parties  neglect their         
stipulations1 because each concludes    
that they will be  broken by the other4 
#g4 ,negligence is first admitted in    
trivial affairs1 and strengthened by    
petty indulgences4 ,he that is not yet  
hardened by custom1 ventures not  on the
 violation of important engagements1 but
 thinks himself bound by  his word in   

cases of property or danger1 though he  
allows himself to  forget at what time  
he is to meet ladies in the park1 or at 
what tavern  his friends are expecting  
him4    #h4 ,this laxity of honor would 
be more tolerable1 if it could be       
restrained to the play-house1 the       
ball-room1 or the card table2 yet even  
there it is sufficiently troublesome1   
and darkens those moments with          
expectation1 suspence1 uncertainty and  
resentment1 which are set aside  for the
 softer pleasures of life1 and from     
which we naturally hope for  unmingled  
enjoyment1 and total relaxation4 ,but he
 that suffers the  slightest breach in  
his morality1 can seldom tell what shall
 enter it1  or how wide it shall be     
made2 when a passage is opened1 the     
influx of  corruption is every moment   
wearing down opposition1 and by slow    
degrees  deluges the heart4    #i4      
,aliger entered into the world a youth  
of lively imagination1  extensive views1
 and untainted principles4 ,his         

curiosity incited him to  range from    
place to place1 and try all the         
varieties of conversation2  his elegance
 of address and fertility of ideas      
gained him friends  wherever he         
appeared2 or at least he found the      
general kindness of  reception always   
shewn to a young man whose birth and    
fortune gave him a  claim to notice1 and
 who has neither by vice or folly       
destroyed his  privileges4    #aj4      
,aliger was pleased with this general   
smile of mankind1 and being  naturally  
gentle and flexible1 was industrious to 
preserve it by  compliance and          
officiousness1 but did not suffer his   
desire of pleasing  to vitiate his      
integrity4 ,it was his established      
maxim1 that a promise  is never to be   
broken2 nor was it without long         
reluctance that he once  suffered       
himself to be drawn away from a festal  
engagement by the  importunity of       
another company4    #aa4 ,he spent the  
evening1 as is usual in the rudiments of

 vice1 with  perturbation and imperfect 
enjoyment1 and met his disappointed     
friends  in the morning with confusion  
and excuses4 ,his companions1 not       
accustomed to such scrupulous anxiety1  
laughed at his uneasiness1  compounded  
the offence for a bottle1 gave him      
courage to break his word  again1 and   
again levied the penalty4    #ab4 ,he   
ventured the same experiment upon       
another society2 and found them  equally
 ready to consider it as a venial fault1
 always incident to a man  of quickness 
and gaiety2 till by degrees he began to 
think himself at  liberty to follow the 
last invitation1 and was no longer      
shocked at the  turpitude of falsehood4 
,he made no difficulty to promise his   
presence at  distant places1 and if     
listlessness happened to creep upon him1
 would  sit at home with great          
tranquillity1 and has often1 while he   
sunk to  sleep in a chair1 held ten     
tables in continual expectation of his  
entrance4    #ac4 ,he found it so       

pleasant to live in perpetual vacancy1  
that he soon  dismissed his attention as
 an useless incumbrance1 and resigned   
himself  to carelessness and            
dissipation1 without any regard to the  
future or the  past1 or any other motive
 of action than the impulse of a sudden 
desire1 or the attraction of immediate  
pleasure4 ,the absent were  immediately 
forgotten1 and the hopes or fears of    
others had no influence  upon his       
conduct4 ,he was in speculation         
completely just1 but never kept  his    
promise to a creditor2 he was           
benevolent1 but always deceived those   
friends whom he undertook to patronize  
or assist2 he was prudent1 but  suffered
 his affairs to be embarrassed for want 
of settling his accounts  at stated     
times4    #ad4 ,he courted a young lady1
 and when the settlements were drawn1   
took a  ramble into the country on the  
day appointed to sign them4 ,he resolved
  to travel1 and sent his chests on     
ship-board1 but delayed to follow them  

till he lost his passage4 ,he was       
summoned as an evidence in a cause of   
great importance1 and loitered in the   
way till the trial was past4 ,it is     
said1 that when he had with great       
expense formed an interest in a         
borough1 his opponent contrived by some 
agents1 who knew his temper1 to  lure   
him away on the day of election4    #ae4
 ,his benevolence draws him into the    
commission of thousand crimes1  which   
others1 less kind or civil1 would       
escape4 ,his courtesy invites           
application1 his promises produce       
dependence3 he has his pockets filled   
with petitions1 which he intends some   
time to deliver and enforce2 and  his   
table covered with letters of request1  
with which he purposes to  comply2 but  
time slips imperceptibly away1 while he 
is either idle or  busy3 his friends    
lose their opportunities1 and charge    
upon him their  miscarriages and        
calamities4    ,this character1 however 
contemptible1 is not peculiar to        

,aliger4    #af4 ,they whose activity of
 imagination is often shifting the      
scenes of  expectation1 are frequently  
subject to such sallies of caprice as to
  make all their actions fortuitous1    
destroy the value of their  friendship1 
obstruct the efficacy of their virtues1 
and set them below  the meanest of those
 that persist in their resolutions1     
execute what  they design1 and perform  
what they have promised4                
,exercise  ,temperance the best         
,preservative of ,health4      #a4      
,bodily labor is of two kinds1 either   
that which a man submits to for  his    
livelihood1 or that which he undergoes  
for his pleasure4 ,the latter  of them  
generally changes the name of labor for 
that of exercise1 but  differs only from
 ordinary labor as it rises from another
 motive4    ,a country life abounds in  
both these kinds of labor1 and for that 
reason  gives a man a greater stock of  
health1 and consequently a more perfect 
enjoyment of himself1 than any other way

 of life4    #b4 ,i consider the body as
 a system of tubes and glands1 or1 to   
use a  more rustic phrase1 a bundle of  
pipes and strainers1 fitted to one      
another after so wonderful a manner1 as 
to make a proper engine for the  soul to
 work with4 ,this description does not  
only comprehend the bowels1  bones1     
tendons1 veins1 nerves and arteries1 but
 every muscle and every  ligature1 which
 is a composition of fibres1 that are so
 many  imperceptible tubes or pipes     
interwoven on all sides with invisible  
glands or strainers4    #c4 ,this       
general idea of a human body1 without   
considering it in its  niceties of      
anatomy1 let us see how absolutely      
necessary labor is for  the right       
preservation of it4 ,there must be      
frequent motions and  agitations1 to    
mix1 digest1 and separate the juices    
contained in it1 as  well as to clear   
and disperse the infinitude of pipes and
 strainers of  which it is composed1 and
 to give their solid parts a more firm  

and  lasting tone4 ,labor or exercise   
ferments the humors1 casts them into    
their proper channels1 throws off       
redundancies1 and helps nature in  those
 secret distributions1 without which the
 body cannot subsist in its  vigor1 nor 
the soul act with cheerfulness4    #d4  
,i might here mention the effects which 
this has upon all the  faculties of the 
mind1 by keeping the understanding      
clear1 the  imagination untroubled1 and 
refining those spirits that are         
necessary  for the proper exertion of   
our intellectual faculties1 during the  
present laws of union between soul and  
body4 ,it is to a neglect in this       
particular that we must ascribe the     
spleen1 which is so frequent in men  of 
studious and sedentary tempers1 as well 
as the vapours to which those  of the   
other sex are so often subject4    #e4  
,had not exercise been absolutely       
necessary for our well-being1 nature    
would not have made the body so proper  
for it1 by giving such an  activity to  

the limbs1 and such a pliancy to every  
part1 as necessarily  produce those     
compressions1 extensions1 contortions1  
dilations1 and all  other kinds of      
motions that are necessary for the      
preservation of such a  system of tubes 
and glands as has been before mentioned4
 ,and that we  might not want           
inducements to engage us in such an     
exercise of the body1  as is proper for 
its welfare1 it is so ordered1 that     
nothing1 valuable  can be procured      
without it4 ,not to mention riches and  
honor1 even food  and raiment are not to
 be come at without the toil of the     
hands and  sweat of the brows4    #f4   
,providence furnishes materials1 but    
expects that we should work them  up    
ourselves4 ,the earth must be labored   
before it gives its increase1  and when 
it is forced into its several products1 
how many hands must  they pass through  
before they are fit for use4            
,manufactures1 trade and  agriculture1  
naturally employ more than nineteen     

parts of the species in  twenty2 and as 
for those who are not obliged to labor1 
by the condition  in which they are     
born1 they are more miserable than the  
rest of  mankind1 unless they indulge   
themselves in that voluntary labor which
  goes by the name of exercise4    #g4  
,my friend ,sir ,roger hath been an     
indefatigable man in business of  this  
kind1 and has hung several parts of his 
house with the trophies of  his former  
labors4 ,the walls of his great hall are
 covered with the  horns of several     
kinds of deer that he has killed in the 
chase1 which he  thinks the most        
valuable furniture of his house1 as they
 afford him  frequent topics of         
discourse1 and show that he has not been
 idle4    #h4 ,at the lower end of the  
hall is a large otter's skin stuffed    
with  hay1 which his mother ordered to  
be hung up in that manner1 and the      
knight looks upon it with great         
satisfaction1 because it seems he was   
but nine years old when his dog killed  

it4 ,a little room adjoining to  the    
hall is a kind of arsenal1 filled with  
guns of several sizes and  inventions1  
with which the knight has made great    
havoc in the woods1 and  destroyed many 
thousands of pheasants1 partridges and  
woodcocks4 ,his  stable-doors are       
patched with noses that belonged to     
foxes of the  knight's own hunting down4
    #i4 ,sir ,roger shewed me one of    
them that1 for distinction sake1 has a  
brass nail stuck through it1 which cost 
him about fifteen hours riding1  carried
 him1 through half a dozen counties1    
killed him a brace of  geldings1 and    
lost about half his dogs4 ,this the     
knight looks upon as  one of the        
greatest exploits of his life4    #aj4  
,the perverse widow1 whom ,i have given 
some account of1 was the death  of      
several foxes2 for ,sir ,roger has told 
me1 that in the course of his  amours he
 patched the western door of his stable4
 ,whenever the widow was  cruel1 the    
foxes were sure to pay for it4 ,in      

proportion as his passion  for the widow
 abated and old age came on1 he left off
 fox-hunting2 but a  hare is not yet    
safe that sits within ten miles of his  
house4    #aa4 ,there is no kind of     
exercise which ,i would so recommend to 
my  readers of both sexes as that of    
riding1 as there is none which so much  
conduces to health1 and is every way    
accommodated to the body1 according  to 
the idea which ,i have given of it4 ,dr4
 ,sydenham is very lavish in  its       
praise2 and if the ,english reader will 
see the mechanical effects  of it       
described at length1 he may find them in
 a book published not many  years since1
 under the title of ,medicina           
,gymnastica4    #ab4 ,for my own part1  
when ,i am in town1 for want of these   
opportunities1  ,i exercise myself an   
hour every morning upon a dumb bell that
 is placed  in a corner of my room1 and 
pleases me the more because it does     
everything ,i require in the most       
profound silence4 ,my landlady and her  

daughters are so well acquainted with my
 hours of exercise1 that they  never    
come into my room to disturb me whilst  
,i am ringing4    #ac4 ,when ,i was some
 years younger than ,i am at present1 ,i
 used to employ  myself in a more       
laborious diversion1 which ,i learned   
from a ,latin  treatise of exercise1    
that is written with great erudition3   
,it is there  called the ,skimachia1 or 
the fighting with a man's own shadow1   
and  consists in the brandishing of two 
short sticks grasped in each hand1  and 
loaded with plugs of lead at either end4
 ,this opens the chest1  exercises the  
limbs1 and gives a man all the pleasure 
of boxing1 without  the blows4    #ad4  
,i could wish that several learned men  
would lay out that time which  they     
employ in controversies1 and disputes   
about nothing1 in this  method of       
fighting with their own shadows4 ,it    
might conduce very much  to evaporate   
the spleen1 which makes them uneasy to  
the public as well  as to themselves4   

,as ,i am a compound of soul and body1  
,i consider myself as obliged to a      
double scheme of duties2 and think ,i   
have not fulfilled the business of  the 
day when ,i do not thus employ the one  
in labour and exercise1 as  well as the 
other in study and contemplation4       
#ae4 ,there is a story in the ,arabian  
,nights ,tales1 of a king who had  long 
languished under an ill habit of body1  
and had taken abundance of  remedies to 
no purpose4 ,at length1 says the fable1 
a physician cured him  by the following 
method3 ,he took an hollow ball of wood1
 and filled it  with several drugs2     
after which he closed it up so          
artificially that  nothing appeared4 ,he
 likewise took a mall1 and after having 
hollowed the  handle1 and that part     
which strikes the ball1 inclosed in them
 several  drugs after the same manner as
 in the ball itself4    #af4 ,he then   
ordered the sultan who was his patient1 
to exercise himself  early in the       
morning with these rightly prepared     

instruments1 till such  time as he      
should sweat2 when1 as the story goes1  
the virtue of the  medicaments          
perspiring through the wood1 had so good
 an influence on the  sultan's          
constitution1 that they cured him of an 
indisposition which all  the            
compositions he had taken inwardly had  
not been able to remove4    #ag4 ,this  
eastern allegory is finely contrived to 
shew us how beneficial  bodily labour is
 to health1 and that exercise is the    
most effectual  physic4 ,i have         
described in my hundred and fifteenth   
paper1 from the  general structure and  
mechanism of an human body1 how         
absolutely  necessary exercise is for   
its preservation2 ,i shall in this place
  recommend another great preservative  
of health1 which in many cases  produces
 the same effects as exercise1 and may1 
in some measure1 supply  its place1     
where opportunities of exercise are     
wanting4    #ah4 ,the preservative ,i am
 speaking of is temperance1 which has   

those  particular advantages above all  
other means of health1 that it may be   
practised by all ranks and conditions1  
at any season1 or in any place4  ,it is 
a kind of regimen into which every man  
may put himself1 without  interruption  
to business1 expense of money1 or loss  
of time4 ,if exercise  throws off all   
superfluities1 temperance prevents them3
 if exercise  clears the vessels1       
temperance neither satiates nor         
over-strains them2  if exercise raises  
proper ferments in the humours1 and     
promotes the  circulation of the blood1 
temperance gives nature her full play1  
and  enables her to exert herself in all
 her force and vigour3 if exercise      
dissipates a growing distemper1         
temperance starves it4    #ai4 ,physic1 
for the most part1 is nothing else but  
the substitute of  exercise or          
temperance4 ,medicines are indeed       
absolutely necessary in  acute          
distempers1 that cannot wait the slow   
operations of these two  great          

instruments of health3 but did men live 
in an habitual course of  exercise and  
temperance1 there would be but little   
occasion for them4  ,accordingly we find
 that those parts of the world are the  
most healthy1  where they subsist by the
 chase2 and that men lived longest when 
their  lives were employed in hunting1  
and when they had little food besides   
what they caught4    #bj4 ,blistering1  
cupping1 bleeding1 are seldom of use to 
any but the idle  and intemperate2 as   
all those inward applications1 which are
 so much in  practice among us1 are1 for
 the most part1 nothing else but        
expedients  to make luxury consistent   
with health4 ,the apothecary is         
perpetually  employed in countermining  
the cook and the vintner4 ,it is said of
  ,diogenes1 that meeting a young man   
who was going to a feast1 he took  him  
up in the street1 and carried him home  
to his friends1 as one who  was running 
into imminent danger1 had he not        
prevented him4    #ba4 ,what would that 

philosopher have said1 had he been      
present at the  gluttony of a modern    
meal8 ,would not he have thought the    
master of the  family mad1 and have     
begged his servant to tie down his      
hands1 had he  seen him devour fowl1    
fish and flesh2 swallow oil and vinegar1
 wines and  spices2 throw down sallads  
of twenty different herbs1 sauces of an 
hundred ingredients1 confections and    
fruits of numberless sweets and         
flavours8 ,what unnatural motions and   
counter-ferments must such a medley  of 
intemperance produce in the body8 ,for  
my part1 when ,i behold a  fashionable  
table set out in all its magnificence1  
,i fancy1 that ,i see  gouts and        
dropsies1 fevers and lethargies1 with   
other innumerable  distempers1 lying in 
ambuscade among the dishes4    #bb4     
,nature delights in the most plain and  
simple diet4 ,every animal but  man     
keeps to one dish4 ,herbs are the food  
of this species1 fish of  that1 and     
flesh of a third4 ,man falls upon every 

thing that comes in his  way2 not the   
smallest fruit or excrescence of the    
earth1 scarce a berry1  or a mushroom   
can escape him4    ,it is impossible to 
lay down any determinate rule for       
temperance1  because what is luxury in  
one may be temperance in another2 but   
there  are few that have lived any time 
in the world1 who are not judges of     
their own constitutions1 so far as to   
know what kinds and what  proportions of
 food do best agree with them4    #bc4  
,were ,i to consider my readers as my   
patients1 and to prescribe such  a kind 
of temperance as is accommodated to all 
persons1 and such as is  particularly   
suitable to our climate and way of      
living1 ,i would copy the  following    
rules of a very eminent physician4 ,make
 your whole repast out  of one dish4 ,if
 you indulge in a second1 avoid drinking
 any thing strong  till you have        
finished your meal3 at the same time    
abstain from all  sauces1 or at least   
such as are not the most plain and      

simple4    #bd4 ,a man could not be well
 guilty of gluttony1 if he stuck to     
these few  obvious and easy rules4 ,in  
the first case1 there would be no       
variety of  tastes to solicit his palate
 and occasion excess2 nor in the second1
 any  artificial provocatives to relieve
 satiety1 and create a false appetite4  
,were ,i to prescribe a rule for        
drinking1 it should be formed on a      
saying  quoted by ,sir ,william         
,temple3--,the first glass for myself1  
the second  for my friends1 the third   
for good humour1 and the fourth for my  
enemies4 ,but because it is impossible  
for one who lives in the world to  diet 
himself always in so philosophical a    
manner1 ,i think every man  should have 
his days of abstinence1 according as his
 constitution will  permit4    #be4     
,these are great reliefs to nature1 as  
they qualify her for  struggling with   
hunger and thirst1 whenever any         
distemper or duty of  life may put her  
upon such difficulties2 and at the same 

time give her  an opportunity of        
extricating herself from her            
oppressions1 and  recovering the several
 tones and springs of her distended     
vessels4  ,besides that1 abstinence     
well-timed often kills a sickness in    
embryo1  and destroys the first seeds of
 an indisposition4    #bf4 ,it is       
observed by two or three ancient        
authors1 that ,socrates1                
notwithstanding he lived in ,athens     
during that great plague1 which  has    
made so much noise through all ages1 and
 has been celebrated at  different times
 by such eminent hands2 ,i say1         
notwithstanding that he  lived in the   
time of this devouring pestilence1 he   
never caught the  least infection1 which
 those writers unanimously ascribe to   
that  uninterrupted temperance which he 
always observed4    #bg4 ,and here ,i   
cannot but mention an observation which 
,i have often  made1 upon reading the   
lives of the philosophers1 and comparing
 them  with any series of kings or great

 men of the same number4 ,if we consider
  these ancient sages1 a great part of  
whose philosophy consisted in a         
temperate and abstemious course of life1
 one would think the life of a          
philosopher and the life of a man were  
of two different dates4 ,for we  find   
that the generality of these wise men   
were nearer an hundred than  sixty years
 of age at the time of their respective 
deaths4    #bh4 ,but the most remarkable
 instance of the efficacy of temperance 
towards the procuring of long life1 is  
what we meet with in a little  book     
published by ,lewis ,cornaro1 the       
,venetian2 which ,i the rather  mention1
 because it is of undoubted credit1 as  
the late ,venetian  ambassador1 who was 
of the same family1 attested more than  
once in  conversation1 when he resided  
in ,england4 ,cornaro1 who was the      
author of the little treatise ,i am     
mentioning1 was of an infirm            
constitution1 till about forty1 when1 by
 obstinately persisting in an  exact    

course of temperance1 he recovered a    
perfect state of health2  insomuch that 
at fourscore he published his book1     
which has been  translated into         
,english1 under the title of1 ,sure and 
certain methods  of attaining a long and
 healthy ,life4    #bi4 ,he lived to    
give a third or fourth edition of it1   
and after having  passed his hundredth  
year1 died without pain or agony1 and   
like one who  falls asleep4 ,the        
treatise ,i mention has been taken      
notice of by several  eminent authors1  
and is written with such a spirit of    
cheerfulness1  religion and good sense1 
as are the natural concomitants of      
temperance  and sobriety4 ,the mixture  
of the old man in it is rather a        
recommendation than a discredit to it4  
,the ,duty of ,secrecy4      #a4 ,it is 
related by ,quintus ,curtius1 that the  
,persians always  conceived a lasting   
and invincible contempt of a man who had
 violated  the laws of secrecy3 for they
 thought that1 however he might be      

deficient in the qualities requisite to 
actual excellence1 the negative  virtues
 at least were always in his power1 and 
though he perhaps could  not speak well 
if he was to try1 it was still easy for 
him not to speak4    #b4 ,in this       
opinion of the easiness of secrecy1 they
 seem to have  considered it as opposed1
 not to treachery1 but loquacity1 and to
 have  conceived the man1 whom they thus
 censured1 not frighted by menaces to   
reveal1 or bribed by promises to betray1
 but incited by the mere  pleasure of   
talking1 or some other motive equally   
trivial1 to lay open  his heart with    
reflection1 and to let whatever he knew 
slip from him1  only for want of power  
to retain it4    #c4 ,whether1 by their 
settled and avowed scorn of thoughtless 
talkers1  the ,persians were able to    
diffuse to any great extent1 the virtue 
of  taciturnity1 we are hindered by the 
distress of those times from being  able
 to discover1 there being very few      
memoirs remaining of the court of       

,persepolis1 nor any distinct accounts  
handed down to us of their              
office-clerks1 their ladies of the      
bed-chamber1 their attornies1 their     
chamber-maids1 or the foot-men4    #d4  
,in these latter ages1 though the old   
animosity against a prattler is  still  
retained1 it appears wholly to have lost
 its effects upon the  conduct of       
mankind2 for secrets are so seldom kept1
 that it may with  some reason be       
doubted1 whether the ancients were not  
mistaken in their  first postulate1     
whether the quality of retention be so  
generally  bestowed1 and whether a      
secret has not some subtile volatility1 
by which  it escapes almost             
imperceptibly at the smallest vent2 or  
some power of  fermentation1 by which it
 expands itself so as to burst the heart
 that  will not give it way4    #e4     
,those that study either the body or the
 mind of man1 very often find  the most 
specious and pleasing theory falling    
under the weight of  contrary           

experience3 and instead of gratifying   
their vanity by inferring  effects from 
causes1 they are always reduced at last 
to conjecture  causes from effects4     
,that it is easy to be secret1 the      
speculatist can  demonstrate in his     
retreat1 and therefore thinks himself   
justified in  placing confidence3 the   
man of the world knows1 that1 whether   
difficult  or not1 it is not uncommon1  
and therefore finds himself rather      
inclined  to search after the reason of 
this universal failure in one of the    
most  important duties of society4      
#f4 ,the vanity of being known to be    
trusted with a secret is generally  one 
of the chief motives to disclose it2 for
 however absurd it may be  thought to   
boast an honour1 by an act that shews   
that it was conferred  without merit1   
yet most men seem rather inclined to    
confess the want of  virtue than of     
importance1 and more willingly shew     
their influence and  their power1 though
 at the expence of their probity1 than  

glide through  life with no other       
pleasure than the private consciousness 
of fidelity3  which1 while it is        
preserved1 must be without praise1      
except from the  single person who tries
 and knows it4    #g4 ,there are many   
ways of telling a secret1 by which a man
 exempts  himself from the reproaches of
 his conscience1 and gratifies his pride
  without suffering himself to believe  
that he impairs his virtue4 ,he  tells  
the private affairs of his patron or his
 friend1 only to those  from whom he    
would not conceal his own2 he tells them
 to those who have  no temptation to    
betray their trust1 or with the         
denunciation of a  certain forfeiture of
 his friendship1 if he discovers that   
they become  public4    #h4 ,secrets are
 very frequently told in the first      
ardour of kindness1 or  of love1 for the
 sake of proving by so important a      
sacrifice1 the  sincerity of            
professions1 or the warmth of           
tenderness2 but with this  motive1      

though it be sometimes strong in itself1
 vanity generally  concurs1 since every 
man naturally desires to be most        
esteemed by those  whom he loves1 or    
whom he converses1 with whom he passes  
his hours of  pleasure1 and to whom he  
retires from business and from care4    
#i4 ,when the discovery of secrets is   
under consideration1 there is always  a 
distinction carefully to be made between
 our own and those of another1  those of
 which we are fully masters as they     
affect only our own  interest1 and those
 which are deposited with us in trust1  
and involve  the happiness or           
convenience of such as we have no right 
to expose to  hazard by experiments upon
 their lives1 without their consent4 ,to
 tell  our own secrets is generally     
folly1 but that folly is without guilt2 
to  communicate those with which we are 
entrusted is always treachery1 and      
treachery for the most part combined    
with folly4    #aj4 ,there have1 indeed1
 been some enthusiastic and irrational  

zealots  for friendship1 who have       
maintained2 and perhaps believed that   
one  friend has a right to all that is  
in possession of another2 and that      
therefore it is a violation of kindness 
to exempt any secret from this          
boundless confidence2 accordingly a late
 female minister of state has  been     
shameless enough to inform the world1   
that she used1 when she  wanted to      
extract any thing from her sovereign1 to
 remind her of  ,montaigne's reasoning1 
who has determined1 that to tell a      
secret to a  friend is no breach of     
fidelity1 because the number of persons 
trusted  is not multiplied1 a man and   
his friend being virtually the same4    
#aa4 ,that such fallacy could be imposed
 upon any human understanding1 or  that 
an author could have been imagined to   
advance a position so remote  from truth
 and reason any otherwise than as a     
declaimer to shew to what  extent he    
could stretch his imagination1 and with 
what strength he could  press his       

principle1 would scarcely have been     
credible1 had not this  lady kindly     
shewed us how far weakness may be       
deluded1 or indolence  amused4    #ab4  
,but since it appears1 that even this   
sophistry has been able1 with  the help 
of a strong desire to repose in quiet   
upon the understanding of  another1 to  
mislead honest intentions1 and an       
understanding not  contemptible1 it may 
not be superfluous to remark1 that those
 things  which are common among friends 
are only such as either possesses in his
  own right1 and can alienate or destroy
 without injury to any other  person4   
,without this limitation1 confidence    
must run on without end1 the  second    
person may tell the secret to the third 
upon the same principle  as he received 
it from the first1 and the third may    
hand it forward to a  fourth1 till at   
last it is told in the round of         
friendship to them from  whom it was the
 first intention chiefly to conceal it4 
#ac4 ,the confidence which ,caius has of

 the faithfulness of ,titius is  nothing
 more than an opinion which himself     
cannot know to be true1 and  which      
,claudius1 who first tells his secret to
 ,caius1 may know1 at  least may suspect
 to be false2 and therefore the trust is
 transferred by  ,caius1 if he reveal   
what has been told him1 to one from whom
 the  person originally concerned would 
probably have withheld it2 and  whatever
 may be the event1 ,caius has hazarded  
the happiness of his  friend1 without   
necessity and without permission1 and   
has put that trust  in the hand of      
fortune was given only to virtue4       
#ad4 ,all the arguments upon which a man
 who is telling the private  affairs of 
another may ground his confidence in    
security1 he must upon  reflection know 
to be uncertain1 because he finds them  
without effect  upon himself4 ,when he  
is imagining that ,titius will be       
cautious from a  regard to his interest1
 his reputation1 or his duty1 he ought  
to reflect  that he is himself at that  

instant acting in opposition to all     
these  reasons1 and revealing what      
interest1 reputation and duty direct him
 to  conceal4    #ae4 ,every one feels  
that he should consider the man         
incapable of trust1  who believed       
himself at liberty to tell whatever he  
knew to the first  whom he should       
conclude deserving of his confidence3   
therefore ,caius1  in admitting ,titius 
to the affairs imparted only to himself1
 violates  his faith1 since he acts     
contrary to the intention of ,claudius1 
to  whom that faith was given4 ,for     
promises of friendship are1 like all    
others1 useless and vain1 unless they   
are made in some known sense1  adjusted 
and acknowledged by both parties4       
#af4 ,i am not ignorant that many       
questions may be started relating to the
  duty of secrecy1 where the affairs are
 of public concern2 where  subsequent   
reasons may arise to alter the          
appearance and nature of the  trust2    
that the manner in which the secret was 

told may change the  degree of          
obligation2 and that the principles upon
 which a man is chosen  for a confidant 
may not always equally constrain him4   
#ag4 ,but these scruples1 if not too    
intricate1 are of too extensive         
consideration for my present purpose1   
nor are they such as generally  occur in
 common life2 and though casuistical    
knowledge be useful in  proper hands1   
yet it ought by no means to be          
carelessly exposed1 since  most will use
 it rather to lull than awaken their own
 consciences2 and  the threads of       
reasoning1 on which truth is suspended1 
are frequently  drawn to such subtility1
 that common eyes cannot perceive1 and  
common  sensibility cannot feel them4   
#ah4 ,the whole doctrine as well as     
practice of secrecy is so perplexing    
and dangerous1 that1 next to him who is 
compelled to trust1 ,i think him        
unhappy who is chosen to be trusted2 for
 he is often involved in  scruples      
without the liberty of calling in the   

help of any other  understanding2 he is 
frequently drawn into guilt1 under the  
appearance  of friendship and honesty2  
and sometimes subjected to suspicion by 
the  treachery of others1 who are       
engaged without his knowledge in the    
same  schemes2 for he that has one      
confidant has generally more1 and when  
he  is at last betrayed1 is in doubt on 
whom he shall fix the crime4    #ai4    
,the rules therefore that ,i shall      
propose concerning secrecy1 and  from   
which ,i think it not safe to deviate1  
without long and exact  deliberation1   
are--never to solicit the knowledge of a
 secret4 ,not  willingly nor without any
 limitations1 to accept such confidence 
when it  is offered4 ,when a secret is  
once admitted1 to consider the trust as 
of  a very high nature1 important to    
society1 and sacred as truth1 and       
therefore not to be violated for any    
incidental convenience1 or slight       
appearance of contrary fitness4         
,of ,cheerfulness4      #a4 ,i have     

always preferred cheerfulness to mirth4 
,the latter ,i consider  as an act1 the 
former as a habit of the mind4 ,mirth is
 short and  transient1 cheerfulness     
fixed and permanent4 ,those are often   
raised into  the greatest transports of 
mirth1 who are subject to the greatest  
depressions of melancholy2 on the       
contrary1 cheerfulness1 though it does  
not give the mind such an exquisite     
gladness1 prevents us from falling  into
 any depths of sorrow4 ,mirth is like a 
flash of lightning that  breaks through 
a gloom of clouds1 and glitters for a   
moment2  cheerfulness keeps up a kind of
 day-light in the mind1 and fills it    
with  a steady and perpetual serenity4  
#b4 ,men of austere principles look upon
 mirth as too wanton and dissolute  for 
a state of probation1 and as filled with
 a certain triumph and  insolence of    
heart that is inconsistent with a life  
,which is every  moment obnoxious to the
 greatest dangers4 ,writers of this     
complexion  have observed1 that the     

sacred person who was the great pattern 
of  perfection1 was never seen to laugh4
    #c4 ,cheerfulness of mind is not    
liable to any of these exceptions2 it is
  of a serious and composed nature2 it  
does not throw the mind into a          
condition improper for the present state
 of humanity1 and is very  conspicuous  
in the characters of those who are      
looked upon as the  greatest            
philosophers among the heathens1 as well
 as among those who  have been          
deservedly esteemed as saints and holy  
men among christians4    #d4 ,if we     
consider cheerfulness in three lights1  
with regard to  ourselves1 to those we  
converse with1 and to the great ,author 
of our  being1 it will not a little     
recommend itself on each of these       
accounts4  ,the man who is in possession
 of this excellent frame of mind1 is not
  only easy in his thoughts1 but a      
perfect master of all the powers and    
faculties of the soul3 his imagination  
is always clear1 and his judgment       

undisturbed3 his temper is even and     
unruffled1 whether in action or         
solitude4 ,he comes with a relish to all
 those goods which nature has  provided 
for him1 tastes all the pleasures of the
 creation which are  poured about him1  
and does not feel the full weight of    
those accidental  evils which may befal 
him4    #e4 ,if we consider him in      
relation to the persons whom he         
converses with1  it naturally produces  
love and good will towards him4 ,a      
cheerful mind is  not only disposed to  
be affable and obliging1 but raises the 
same good  humour in those who come     
within its influence4 ,a man finds      
himself  pleased1 he does not know why1 
with the cheerfulness of his companion3 
it is like a sudden sun-shine that      
awakens a secret delight in the mind1   
without her attending to it4 ,the heart 
rejoices of its own accord1 and         
naturally flows out into friendship and 
benevolence towards the person  who has 
so kindly an effect upon it4    #f4     

,when ,i consider this cheerful stale of
 mind in its third relation1 ,i  cannot 
but look upon it as a constant habitual 
gratitude to the great  ,author of      
,nature4 ,an inward cheerfulness is an  
implicit praise and  thanksgiving to    
,providence under all its dispensations4
 ,it is a kind of  acquiescence in the  
state wherein we are placed1 and a      
secret  approbation of the ,divine will 
in his conduct towards man4    #g4      
,there are but two things which1 in my  
opinion1 can reasonably deprive  us of  
this cheerfulness of heart4 ,the first  
of these is the sense of  guilt4 ,a man 
who lives in a state of vice and        
impenitence1 can have no  title to that 
evenness and tranquility of mind which  
is the health of  the soul1 and the     
natural effect of virtue and innocence4 
,cheerfulness  in an ill man1 deserves a
 harder name than language can furnish  
us  with1 and is many degrees beyond    
what we commonly call folly or madness4 
#h4 ,atheism1 by which ,i mean a        

disbelief of a ,supreme ,being1 and     
consequently of a future state1 under   
whatsoever title it shelters  itself1   
may likewise very reasonably deprive a  
man of this cheerfulness  of temper4    
,there is something so particularly     
gloomy and offensive to  human nature in
 the prospect of non-existence1 that ,i 
cannot but wonder1  with many excellent 
writers1 how it is possible for a man to
 out-live  the expectation of it4 ,for  
my own part1 ,i think the being of a    
,god is so  little to be doubted1 that  
it is almost the only truth we are sure 
of1  and such a truth as we meet with in
 every object1 in every occurrence1  and
 in every thought4    #i4 ,if we look   
into the characters of this tribe of    
infidels1 we  generally find they are   
made up of pride1 spleen and cavil3 ,it 
is indeed  no wonder that men1 who are  
uneasy to themselves1 should be so to   
the  rest of the world2 and how is it   
possible for a man to be otherwise than 
uneasy in himself1 who is in danger     

every moment of losing his entire       
existence1 and dropping into nothing8   
#aj4 ,the vicious man and atheist have  
therefore no pretence to  cheerfulness1 
and would act very unreasonably1 should 
they endeavor  after it4 ,it is         
impossible for any one to live in good  
humour1 and enjoy  his present          
existence1 who is apprehensive either of
 torment or of  annihilation2 of being  
miserable1 or of not being at all4      
,after having mentioned these two great 
principles1 which are destructive  of   
cheerfulness in their own nature1 as    
well as in right reason1 ,i  cannot     
think of any other that ought to banish 
this happy temper from a  virtuous mind4
 ,pain and sickness1 shame and reproach1
 poverty and old  age1 nay1 death       
itself1 considering the shortness of    
their duration1 and  the advantage we   
may reap from them1 do not deserve the  
name of evils4    #aa4 ,a good mind may 
bear up under them with fortitude1 with 
indolence1  and with cheerfulness of    

heart--the tossing of a tempest does not
  discompose him1 which he is sure will 
bring him to a joyful harbour4    ,a man
 who uses his best endeavours to live   
according to the dictates of  virtue and
 right reason1 has two perpetual sources
 of cheerfulness1 in  the consideration 
of his own nature1 and of that ,being on
 whom he has a  dependence4    #ab4 ,if 
he looks into himself1 he cannot but    
rejoice in that existence1  which is so 
lately bestowed upon him1 and which1    
after millions of ages1  will still be  
new1 and still in its beginning2 ,how   
many  self-congratulations naturally    
arise in the mind1 when it reflects on  
this its entrance into eternity1 when it
 takes a view of those  improveable     
faculties1 which in a few years1 and    
even at its first  setting out1 have    
made so considerable a progress1 and    
which will be  still receiving an       
increase of perfection1 and consequently
 an increase  of happiness8    #ac4 ,the
 consciousness of such a being spreads a

 perpetual diffusion of  joy through the
 soul of a virtuous man1 and makes him  
look upon himself  every moment as more 
happy than he knows how to conceive4    
,the second source of cheerfulness to a 
good mind is1 its consideration  of that
 ,being on whom we have our dependence1 
and in whom1 though we  behold him as   
yet but in the first faint discoveries  
of his perfections1  we see every thing 
that we can imagine as great1 glorious1 
or amiable4  ,we find ourselves every   
where upheld by his goodness1 and       
surrounded by  an immensity of love and 
mercy4    #ad4 ,in short1 we depend upon
 a ,being1 whose power qualifies him to 
make  us happy by an infinity of means1 
whose goodness and truth engage him to  
make those happy who desire it of him1  
and whose unchangeableness will  secure 
us in this happiness to all eternity4   
,such considerations1 which every one   
should perpetually cherish in his       
thoughts1 will banish from us all that  
secret heaviness of heart which         

unthinking men are subject to when they 
lie under no real affliction1  all that 
anguish which we may feel from any evil 
that actually oppresses  us1 to which ,i
 may likewise add those little          
cracklings of mirth and  folly1 that are
 apter to betray virtue than support it2
 and establish in  us such an even and  
cheerful temper1 as makes us pleasing to
 ourselves1  to those with whom we      
converse1 and to him whom we are made to
 please4          ,on the ,advantages of
 a ,cheerful ,temper4    ,,spectator1   
,no4 #chg4      #a4 ,cheerfulness is in 
the first place the best promoter of    
health4  ,repining and secret murmurs of
 heart give imperceptible strokes to    
those  delicate fibres of which the     
vital parts are composed1 and wear out  
the  machine insensibly2 not to mention 
those violent ferments which they  stir 
up in the blood1 and those irregular    
disturbed motions1 which they  raise in 
the animal spirits4    #b4 ,i scarce    
remember in my own observation1 to have 

met with many old  men1 or with such1   
who 7to use our ,english phrase7 were   
well1 that  had not at least a certain  
indolence in their humour1 if not a more
 than  ordinary gaiety and cheerfulness 
of heart4 ,the truth of it is1 health   
and cheerfulness mutually beget each    
other2 with this difference1 that  we   
seldom meet with a great degree of      
health which is not attended with  a    
certain cheerfulness1 but very often see
 cheerfulness where there is  no great  
degree of health4    #c4 ,cheerfulness  
bears the same friendly regard to the   
mind as to the  body3 it banishes all   
anxious care and discontent1 soothes and
 composes  the passions1 and keeps the  
soul in a perpetual calm4 ,but1 having  
already touched on this last            
consideration1 ,i shall here take       
notice1  that the world in which we are 
placed is filled with innumerable       
objects  that are proper to raise and   
keep alive this happy temper of mind4   
#d4 ,if we consider the world in its    

subserviency to man1 one would think  it
 was made for our use2 but if we        
consider it in its natural beauty and   
harmony1 one would be apt to conclude it
 was made for our pleasure4 ,the  sun1  
which is as the great soul of the       
universe1 and produces all the          
necessaries of life1 has a particular   
influence in cheering the mind of  man2 
and making the heart glad4    #e4 ,those
 several living creatures which are made
 for our service or  sustenance1 at the 
same time either fill the woods with    
their music1  furnish us with game1 or  
raise pleasing ideas in us by the       
delightfulness of their appearance4     
,fountains1 lakes and rivers1 are as    
refreshing to the imagination as to the 
soul through which they pass4    #f4    
,there are writers of great distinction1
 who have made it an argument  for      
,providence1 that the whole earth is    
covered with green1 rather than  with   
any other colour1 as being such a right 
mixture of light and shade1  that it    

comforts and strengthens the eye instead
 of weakening or  grieving it4 ,for this
 reason several painters have a green   
cloth hanging  near them1 to ease the   
eye upon after too great an application 
to their  colouring4    #g4 ,a famous   
modern philosopher accounts for it in   
the following  manner3--,all colours    
that are more luminous1 overpower and   
dissipate the  animal spirits which are 
employed insight3 on the contrary1 those
 that  are more obscure do not give the 
animal spirits a sufficient exercise2   
whereas the rays that produce in us the 
idea of green1 fall upon the eye  in    
such a due proportion1 that they give   
the animal spirits their proper  play1  
and by keeping up the struggle in a just
 balance1 excite a very  agreeable and  
pleasing sensation4 ,let the cause be   
what it will1 the  effect is certain2   
for which reason1 the poets ascribe to  
this  particular colour the epithet of  
cheerful4    #h4 ,to consider further   
this double end in the works of nature2 

and how  they are1 at the same time1    
both useful and entertaining1 we find   
that  the most important parts in the   
vegetable world are those which are the 
most beautiful4 ,these are the seeds by 
which the several races of plants  are  
propagated and continued1 and which are 
always lodged in flowers or  blossoms4  
,nature seems to hide her principal     
design1 and to be  industrious in making
 the earth gay and delightful1 while she
 is  carrying on her great work1 and    
intent upon her own preservation4 ,the  
husbandman1 after the same manner1 is   
employed in laying out the whole        
country into a kind of garden or        
landscape1 and making every thing smile 
about him1 whilst1 in reality1 he thinks
 of nothing but of the harvest  and     
increase which is to arise from it4     
#i4 ,we may further observe how         
,providence has taken care to keep up   
this  cheerfulness in the mind of man1  
by having formed it after such a        
manner1 as to make it capable of        

conceiving delight from several objects 
which seem to have very little use in   
them2 as from the wildness of  rocks and
 deserts1 and the like grotesque parts  
of nature4 ,those who are  versed in    
philosophy may still carry this         
consideration higher by  observing1     
that1 if matter had appeared to us      
endowed only with those  real qualities 
which it actually possesses1 it would   
have made but a  very joyless and       
uncomfortable figure2 and why has       
,providence given it a  power of        
producing in us such imaginary          
qualities1 as tastes and  colours1      
sounds and smells1 heat and cold1 but   
that man1 while he is  conversant in the
 lowest stations of nature1 might have  
his mind cheered  and delighted with    
agreeable sensations8 ,in short1 the    
whole universe is  a kind of theatre    
filled with objects that either raise in
 us pleasure1  amusement1 or admiration4
    #aj4 ,the reader's own thoughts may 
suggest to him the vicissitude of day   

and night1 the change of seasons1 with  
all that variety of scenes which        
diversify the face of nature1 and fill  
the mind with a perpetual  succession of
 beautiful and pleasing images4    ,i   
shall not here mention the several      
entertainments of art1 with the         
pleasures of friendship1 books1         
conversation1 and other accidental      
diversions of life1 because ,i would    
only take notice of such incitements  to
 a cheerful temper1 as offer themselves 
to persons of all ranks and             
,conditions1 and which may sufficiently 
show us1 that ,providence did not       
design this world should be filled with 
murmurs and repinings1 or that  the     
heart of man should be involved in gloom
 and melancholy4    #aa4 ,i the more    
inculcate this cheerfulness of temper1  
as it is a virtue  in which our         
countrymen are observed to be more      
deficient than any other  nation4       
,melancholy is a kind of dmon that      
haunts our island1 and often  conveys   

herself to us in an easterly wind4 ,a   
celebrated ,french  novelist1 in        
opposition to those who begin their     
romances with a flowery  season of the  
year1 enters on his story thus3 ,in the 
gloomy month of  ,november1 when the    
people of ,england hang and drown       
themselves1 a  disconsolate lover walked
 out into the fields1 c4    #ab4 ,every 
one ought to fence against the temper of
 his climate or  constitution1 and      
frequently to indulge in himself those  
considerations  which may give him a    
serenity of mind1 and enable him to bear
 up  cheerfully against those little    
evils and misfortunes which are common  
to human nature1 and which1 by a right  
improvement of them1 will produce  a    
satiety of joy1 and an uninterrupted    
happiness4    #ac4 ,at the same time    
that ,i would engage my readers to      
consider the  world in its most         
agreeable lights1 ,i must own there are 
many evils  which naturally spring up   
amidst the entertainments that are      

provided  for us1 but these1 if rightly 
considered1 should be far from          
overcasting  the mind with sorrow1 or   
destroying that cheerfulness of temper  
which ,i  have been recommending4       
#ad4 ,this interspersion of evil with   
good1 and pain with pleasure1 in the    
works of nature1 is very truly ascribed 
by ,mr4 ,locke in his ,essay upon       
,human ,understanding1 to a moral       
reason1 in the following words3         
,beyond all this1 we may find another   
reason why ,god hath scattered up  and  
down several degrees of pleasure and    
pain1 in all the things that  environ   
and effect us1 and blended them together
 in almost all that our  thoughts and   
senses have to do with2 that we1 finding
 imperfection1  dissatisfaction1 and    
want of complete happiness in all the   
enjoyments  which the creature can      
afford us1 might be fed to seek it in   
the  enjoyment of him1 with whom there  
is fulness of joy1 and at whose right   
hand are pleasures for evermore4        

,discretion4      #a4 ,i have often     
thought if the minds of men were laid   
open1 we should  see but little         
difference between that of the wise man 
and that of the  fool4 ,there are       
infinite reveries1 numberless           
extravagancies1 and a  perpetual train  
of vanities1 which pass through both4   
,the great  difference is1 that the     
first knows how to pick and cull his    
thoughts  for conversation1 by          
suppressing some1 and communicating     
others2 whereas  the other lets them all
 indifferently fly out in words4 ,this  
sort of  discretion1 however1 has no    
place in private conversation between   
intimate friends4 ,on such occasions the
 wisest men very often talk like  the   
weakest2 for indeed the talking with a  
friend is nothing else but  thinking    
aloud4    #b4 ,tully has therefore very 
justly exposed a precept delivered by   
some  ancient writers1 that a man should
 live with his enemy in such a manner1  
as might leave him room to become his   

friend2 and with his friend in  such a  
manner1 that if he became his enemy1 it 
should not be in his  power to hurt him4
 ,the first part of this rule1 which    
regards our  behaviour towards an enemy1
 is indeed very reasonable1 as well as  
prudential2 but the latter part of it1  
which regards our behaviour  towards a  
friend1 favours more of cunning than of 
discretion1 and would  cut a man off    
from the greatest pleasures of life1    
which are the  freedoms of conversation 
with a bosom friend4 ,besides1 that when
 a  friend is turned into an enemy1 and 
7as the son of ,sirach calls him7 a     
betrayer of secrets1 the world is just  
enough to accuse the  perfidiousness of 
the friend1 rather than the indiscretion
 of the person  who confided in him4    
#c4 ,discretion does not only shew      
itself in words1 but ,in all the        
circumstances of action2 and is like an 
under-agent of ,providence1 to  guide   
and direct us in the ordinary concerns  
of life4    ,there are many more shining

 qualities in the mind of man1 but there
 is  none so useful as discretion2 it is
 this indeed which gives a value to  all
 the rest1 which sets them at work in   
their proper times and places1  and     
turns them to the advantage of the      
person who is possessed of them4        
,without it1 learning is pedantry1 and  
wit impertinence2 virtue itself  looks  
like weakness2 the best parts only      
qualify a man to be more  sprightly in  
errors1 and active to his own prejudice4
    #d4 ,nor does discretion only make a
 man the master of his own parts1 but   
of other men's4 ,the discreet man finds 
out the talents of those he  converses  
with1 and knows how to apply them to    
proper uses4 ,accordingly1  if we look  
into particular communities and         
divisions of men1 we may  observe1 that 
it is the discreet man1 not the witty1  
nor the learned1  nor the brave1 who    
guides the conversation1 and gives      
measures to the  society4 ,a man with   
great talents1 but void of discretion1  

is like  ,polyphemus in the fable1      
strong and blind1 endued with an        
irresistible  force1 which for want of  
sight1 is of no use to him4    #e4      
,though a man has all other perfections1
 and wants discretion1 he will  be of no
 great consequence in the world2 but if 
he has this single  talent in perfection
 and but a common share of others1 he   
may do what he  pleases in his station  
of life4    ,at the same time that ,i   
think discretion the most useful talent 
a man  can be master of1 ,i look upon   
cunning to be the accomplishment of     
little1 mean1 ungenerous minds4         
,discretion points out the noblest ends 
to us1 and pursues the most proper and  
laudable methods of attaining  them2    
cunning has only private selfish aims1  
and sticks at nothing which  may make   
them succeed4    #f4 ,discretion has    
large and extended views1 and1 like a   
veil formed eye1  commands a whole      
horizon3 cunning is a kind of           
short-sightedness1 that  discovers the  

minutest objects which are near at hand1
 but is not able  to discern things at a
 distance4 ,discretion1 the more it is  
discovered1  gives a greater authority  
to the person who possesses it2 cunning1
 when  it is once detected1 loses its   
force1 and makes a man incapable of     
bringing about even those events which  
he might have done1 had he passed  only 
for a plain man4 ,discretion is the     
perfection of reason1 and a  guide to us
 in all the duties of life3 cunning is a
 kind of instinct1  that only looks out 
after our immediate interest and        
welfare4    #g4 ,discretion is only     
found in men of strong sense and good   
understandings3 cunning is often to be  
met with in brutes themselves1  and in  
persons who are but the fewest removes  
from them4 ,in short1  cunning is only  
the mimic of discretion1 and may pass   
upon weak men1 in  the same manner as   
vivacity is often mistaken for wit1 and 
gravity for  wisdom4    ,the cast of    
mind which is natural to a discreet man1

 makes him look  forward into futurity1 
and consider what will be his condition 
millions  of ages hence1 as well as what
 it is at present4    #h4 ,he knows1    
that the misery or happiness which are  
reserved for him in  another world1 lose
 nothing of their reality by being      
placed at so great  a distance from him4
 ,the objects do not appear little to   
him because  they are remote4 ,he       
considers that those pleasures and pains
 which lie  hid in eternity1 approach   
nearer to him every moment1 and will be 
present with him in their full weight   
and measure1 as much as those  pains and
 pleasures which he feels at this very  
instant4 ,for this reason  he is careful
 to secure to himself that which is the 
proper happiness of  his nature1 and the
 ultimate design of his being4    #i4   
,he carries his thoughts to the end of  
every action1 and considers the  most   
distant as well as the most immediate   
effects of it4 ,he supercedes  every    
little prospect of gain and advantage   

which offers itself here1  if he does   
not find it consistent with his views of
 an hereafter4 ,in a  word1 his hopes   
are full of immortality1 his schemes are
 large and  glorious1 and his conduct   
suitable to one who knows his true      
interest1  and how to pursue it by      
proper methods4    #aj4 ,i have1 in this
 essay upon discretion1 considered it   
both as an  accomplishment and as a     
virtue1 and have therefore described it 
in its  full extent2 not only as it is  
conversant about worldly affairs1 but as
  it regards our whole existence2 not   
only as it is the guide of a mortal     
creature1 but as it is in general the   
director of a reasonable being4 ,it  is 
in this light that discretion is        
represented by the wise man1 who        
sometimes mentions it under the name of 
discretion1 and sometimes under  that of
 wisdom4    #aa4 ,it is indeed 7as      
described in the latter part of this    
paper7 the  greatest wisdom1 but at the 
same time in the power of every one to  

attain4 ,its advantages are infinite1   
but its acquisition easy2 or1 to  speak 
of her in the words of the apocryphal   
writer1 ,wisdom is  glorious1 and never 
fadeth away1 yet she is easily seen of  
them that  love her1 and found of such  
as seek her4    #ab4 ,she preventeth    
them that desire her1 in making herself 
first known  unto them4 ,he that seeketh
 her early1 shall have no great travel3 
for he  shall find her sitting at his   
doors4 ,to think1 therefore1 upon ,her1 
is  perfection of wisdom1 and whoso     
watcheth for her1 shall quickly be      
without care4 ,for she goeth about      
seeking such as are worthy of her1      
sheweth herself favourably unto them in 
the ways1 and meeteth them in  every    
thought4          ,pride4      #a4      
,there is no passion which steals into  
the heart more imperceptibly1  and      
covers itself under more disguises1 than
 pride4 ,for my own part1 ,i  think1 if 
there is any passion or vice which ,i am
 wholly a stranger to1  it is this2     

though at the same time1 perhaps this   
very judgment which ,i  form of myself1 
proceeds in some measure from this      
corrupt principle4    #b4 ,i have been  
always wonderfully delighted with that  
sentence in holy  writ1 ,pride was not  
made for man4 ,there is not1 indeed1 any
 single  view of human nature under its 
present condition1 which is not         
sufficient to extinguish in us all the  
secret seeds of pride2 and1 on  the     
contrary1 to sink the soul into the     
lowest slate of humility1 and  what the 
school-men call self-annihilation4      
,pride was not made for man1  as he is1 
#a4 ,a sinful1    #b4 ,an ignorant1     
#c4 ,a miserable being4    ,there is    
nothing in his understanding1 in his    
will1 or in his present  condition1 that
 can tempt any considerate creature to  
pride or vanity4    #c4 ,these three    
very reasons why he should not be proud1
 are1  notwithstanding1 the reasons why 
he is so4 ,were not he a sinful         
creature1 he would not be subject to a  

passion which rises from the  depravity 
of his nature2 were he not an ignorant  
creature1 he would see  that he has     
nothing to be proud of2 and were not the
 whole species  miserable1 he would not 
have those wretched objects before his  
eyes1  which are the occasions of this  
passion1 and which make one man value   
himself more than another4    #d4 ,a    
wise man will be contented that his     
glory be deferred till such  time as he 
shall be truly glorified2 when his      
understanding shall be  cleared his will
 rectified1 and his happiness assured2  
or1 in other  words1 when he shall be   
neither sinful1 nor ignorant1 nor       
miserable4    #e4 ,if there be any thing
 which makes human nature appear        
ridiculous to  beings of superior       
faculties1 it must be pride4 ,they know 
so well the  vanity of those imaginary  
perfections that swell the heart of man1
 and  of those little supernumerary     
advantages1 whether in birth1 fortune1  
or  title1 which one man enjoys above   

another1 that it must certainly very    
much astonish1 if it does not very much 
divert them1 when they see a  mortal    
puffed up1 and valuing himself above his
 neighbours on any of  these accounts1  
at the same time that he is obnoxious to
 all the common  calamities of the      
species4    #f4 ,to set this thought in 
its true light1 we will fancy1 if you   
please1  that yonder mole-hill is       
inhabited by reasonable creatures1 and  
that  every pismire 7his shape and way  
of life only excepted7 is endowed with  
human passions4 ,how should we smile to 
hear one give us an account of  the     
pedigrees1 distinctions1 and titles that
 reign among them6    #g4 ,observe how  
the whole swarm divide and make way for 
the pismire that  passes through them6  
,you must understand he is an emmet of  
quality1 and  has better blood in his   
veins than any pismire in the           
mole-hill4--,don't  you see how sensible
 he is of it1 how slow he marches       
forward1 how the  whole rabble of ants  

keep their distance8    #h4 ,here you   
may observe one placed upon a little    
eminence1 and looking  down upon a long 
row of labourers4 ,he is the richest    
insect on this side  the hillock1 he has
 a walk of half a yard in length1 and a 
quarter of an  inch in breadth1 he keeps
 a hundred menial servants1 and has at  
least  fifteen barley-corns in his      
granary4 ,he is now chiding and         
beslaving the  emmet that stands before 
him1 and who1 for all that we can       
discover1 is  as good an emmet as       
himself4    #i4 ,but here comes an      
insect of figure6 don't you take notice 
of a little  white straw that he carries
 in his mouth8 ,that straw1 you must    
understand1 he would not part with for  
the longest tract about the  mole-hill3 
did you but know what he has undergone  
to purchase it6 ,see  how the ants of   
all qualities and conditions swarm about
 him6 ,should  this straw drop out of   
his mouth1 you would see all this       
numerous circle  of attendants follow   

the next that took it up1 and leave the 
discarded  insect1 or run over his back 
to come at his successor4    #aj4 ,if   
now you have a mind to see all the      
ladies of the mole-hill1  observe first 
the pismire that listens to the emmet on
 her left hand1 at  the same time that  
she seems to turn away her head from    
him4 ,he tells  this poor insect that   
she is a goddess1 that her eyes are     
brighter than  the sun1 that life and   
death are at her disposal4 ,she believes
 him1 and  gives herself a thousand     
little airs upon it4    #aa4 ,mark the  
vanity of the pismire on your left hand4
 ,she can scarce  crawl with age2 but   
you must know she values herself upon   
her birth2 and  if you mind1 spurns at  
every one that comes within her reach4  
,the little  nimble coquette that is    
running along by the side of her1 is a  
wit4 ,she  has broke many a pismire's   
heart4 ,do but observe what a drove of  
lovers  are running after her4    #ab4  
,we will here finish this imaginary     

scene2 but first of all1 to draw  the   
parallel closer1 will suppose1 if you   
please1 that death comes down  upon the 
mole-hill in the shape of a             
cock-sparrow1 who picks up without      
distinction1 the pismire of quality and 
his flatterers1 the pismire of          
substance and his day labourers1 the    
white straw officer and his  sycophants1
 with all the goddesses1 wits1 and      
beauties of the mole-hill4    #ac4 ,may 
we not imagine that beings of superior  
natures and perfections  regard all the 
instances of pride and vanity1 among our
 own species1 in  the same kind of view1
 when they take a survey of those who   
inhabit the  earth2 or1 in the language 
of an ingenious ,french poet1 of those  
pismires that people this heap of dirt1 
which human vanity has divided  into    
climates and regions4    ,,guardian1    
,vol4 ,,ii4 ,no4 #aec4                  
,drunkenness4      #a4 ,no vices are so 
incurable as those which men are apt to 
glory in4 ,one  would wonder how        

drunkenness should have the good luck to
 be of this  number4 ,anarcharsis1 being
 invited to a match of drinking at      
,corinth1  demanded the prize very      
humourously1 because he was drunk before
 any of  the rest of the company1 for1  
says he1 when we run a race1 he who     
arrives at the goal first1 is entitled  
to the reward3    #b4 ,on the contrary1 
in this thirsty generation1 the honour  
falls upon  him who carries off the     
greatest quantity of liquor1 and knocks 
down the  rest of the company4 ,i was   
the other day with honest ,will         
,funnell1 the  ,west ,saxon1 who was    
reckoning up how much liquor had passed 
through him  in the last twenty years of
 his life1 which1 according to his      
computation1 amounted to twenty-three   
hogsheads of ,october1 four ton of      
port1 half a kilderkin of small-beer1   
nineteen barrels of cyder1 and  three   
glasses of champaigne2 besides which he 
had assisted at four  hundred bowls of  
punch1 not to mention sips1 drams1 and  

whets without  number4    #c4 ,i        
question not but every reader's memory  
will suggest to him several  ambitious  
young men1 who are as vain in this      
particular as ,will  ,funnell1 and can  
boast of as glorious exploits4    ,our  
modern philosophers observe1 that there 
is a general decay of  moisture in the  
globe of the earth4 ,this they chiefly  
ascribe to the  growth of vegetables1   
which incorporate into their own        
substance many  fluid bodies that never 
return again to their former nature3    
#d4 ,but with submission1 they ought to 
throw into their account1 those         
innumerable rational beings which fetch 
their nourishment chiefly out of        
liquids3 especially when we consider    
that men1 compared with their           
fellow-creatures1 drink much more than  
comes to their share4    #e4 ,but       
however highly this tribe of people may 
think of themselves1 a  drunken man is a
 greater monster than any that is to be 
found among all  the creatures which    

,god has made2 as indeed there is no    
character which  appears more despicable
 and deformed1 in the eyes of all       
reasonable  persons1 than that of a     
drunkard4    #f4 ,bonosus1 one of our   
own countrymen1 who was addicted to this
 vice1  having set up for a share in the
 ,roman empire1 and being defeated in a 
great battle1 hanged himself4 ,when he  
was seen by the army in this  melancholy
 situation1 notwithstanding he had      
behaved himself very  bravely1 the      
common jest was1 that the thing they saw
 hanging upon the  tree before them1 was
 not a man1 but a bottle4    #g4 ,this  
vice has very fatal effects on the mind1
 the body and fortune of  the person who
 is devoted to it4    ,in regard to the 
mind1 it first of all discovers every   
flaw in it4 ,the  sober man1 by the     
strength of reason1 may keep under and  
subdue every  vice or folly to which he 
is most inclined2 but wine makes every  
latent  seed sprout up in the soul1 and 
shew itself3 it gives fury to the       

passions1 and force to those objects    
which are apt to produce them4    #h4   
,when a young fellow complained to an   
old philosopher that his wife  was not  
handsome2 ,put less water into your     
wine1 says the philosopher1  and you'll 
quickly make her so4 ,wine heightens    
indifference into love1  love into      
jealousy1 and jealousy into madness4 ,it
 often turns the good  natured man into 
an idiot1 and the choleric into an      
assassin4 ,it gives  bitterness to      
resentment1 it makes vanity             
insupportable1 and displays  every      
little spot of the soul in its utmost   
deformity4    #i4 ,nor does this vice   
only betray the hidden faults of a man1 
and shew  them in most odious colours1  
but often occasions faults to which he  
is  not naturally subject4 ,there is    
more of turn than of truth in a saying  
of ,seneca1 that drunkenness does not   
produce1 but discover faults4  ,common  
experience teaches the contrary4    #aj4
 ,wine throws a man out of himself1 and 

infuses qualities into the  mind1 which 
she is a stranger to in her sober       
moments4 ,the person you  converse with1
 after the third bottle1 is not the same
 man who at first  sat down at the table
 with you4 ,upon this maxim is founded  
one of the  prettiest sayings ,i ever   
met with1 which is inscribed to ,publius
 ,syrus1  ,he who jests unto a man that 
is drunk1 injures the absent4    #aa4   
,thus does drunkenness act in direct    
contradiction to reason1 whose  business
 it is to clear the mind of every vice  
which is crept into it1  and to guard it
 against all the approaches of any that 
endeavour to make  its entrance4 ,but   
besides these ill effects which this    
vice produces in  the person who is     
actually under its dominion1 it has also
 a bad  influence on the mind1 even in  
its sober moments1 as it insensibly     
weakens the understanding1 impairs the  
memory1 and makes those faults  habitual
 which are produced by frequent         
excesses3 it wastes the estate1         

banishes reputation1 consumes the body1 
and renders a man of the  brightest     
parts the common jest of an             
insignificant clown4    #ab4 ,a method  
of spending one's time agreeably is a   
thing so little  studied1 that the      
common amusement of our young gentlemen 
7especially of  such as are at a great  
distance from those of the first        
breeding7 is  drinking4 ,this way of    
entertainment has custom on its side2   
but as much  as it has prevailed1 ,i    
believe there have been very few        
companies that  have been guilty of     
excess this way1 where there have not   
happened more  accidents which make     
against1 than for the continuance of it4
    #ac4 ,it is very common that events 
arise from a debauch which are fatal1   
and always such as are disagreeable4    
,with all a man's reason and good  sense
 about him1 his tongue is apt to utter  
things out of a mere gaiety  of heart1  
which may displease his best friends4   
,who then would trust  himself to the   

power of wine1 without saying more      
against it1 than1 that  it raises the   
imagination and depresses judgment8     
#ad4 ,were there only this single       
consideration1 that we are less masters 
of ourselves when we drink in the least 
proportion above the exigencies  of     
thirst3 ,i say1 were this all that could
 be objected1 it were  sufficient to    
make us abhor this vice4 ,but we may go 
on to say1 that as  he who drinks but a 
little is not master of himself1 so he  
who drinks  much is a slave to himself4 
#ae4 ,as for my part1 ,i ever esteemed a
 drunkard of all vicious persons  the   
most vicious3 for if our actions are to 
be weighed and considered  according to 
the intention of them1 what can we think
 of him who puts  himself into a        
circumstance wherein he can have no     
intention at all1 but  incapacitates    
himself for the duties and offices of   
life1 by a  suspension of all his       
faculties4    #af4 ,if a man considers  
that he cannot1 under the oppression of 

drink1 be  a friend1 a gentleman1 a     
master1 or a subject2 that he has so    
long  banished himself from all that is 
dear1 and given up all that is sacred   
to him1 he would even then think of a   
debauch with horror2 but when he  looks 
still further1 and acknowledges that he 
is not only expelled out  of all the    
relations of life1 but also liable to   
offend against them  all1 what words can
 express the terror and detestation he  
would have of  such a condition8 ,and   
yet he owns all this of himself who says
 he was  drunk last night4    #ag4 ,as  
,i have all along persisted in it1 that 
all the vicious in general  are in a    
state of death1 so ,i think ,i may add  
to the non-existence of  drunkards that 
they died by their own hands4 ,he is    
certainly as guilty  of suicide who     
perishes by a slow1 as he that is       
dispatched by an  immediate poison4     
#ah4 ,in my last lucubration ,i proposed
 the general use of water-gruel1  and   
hinted that it might not be amiss at    

this very season3 but as there  are     
some1 whose cases1 in regard to their   
families1 will not admit of  delay1 ,i  
have used my interest in several wards  
of the city1 that the  wholesome        
restorative above-mentioned may be given
 in tavern kitchens to  all the mornings
 draught-men within the walls when they 
call for wine  before noon4    #ai4 ,for
 a further restraint and mark upon such 
persons1 ,i have given  orders1 that in 
all the officers where policies are     
drawn upon lives1 it  shall be added to 
the article which prohibits that the    
nominee should  cross the sea1 the      
words1 ,provided also1 ,that the        
above-mentioned ,a4,b4  shall not drink 
before dinner during the term mentioned 
in this  indenture4    #bj4 ,i am not   
without hopes that by this method ,i    
shall bring some  unsizeable friends of 
mine into shape and breadth1 as well as 
others who  are languid and consumptive 
into health and vigour4 ,most of the    
self-murderers whom ,i yet hinted at1   

are such as preserve a certain          
regularity in taking their poison1 and  
make it mix pretty well with  their     
food3    #ba4 ,but the most conspicuous 
of those who destroy themselves1 are    
such  as in their youth fall into this  
sort of debauchery1 and contract a      
certain uneasiness of spirit1 which is  
not to be diverted but by  tippling as  
often as they can fall into company in  
the day1 and conclude  with down-right  
drunkenness at night4 ,these gentlemen  
never know the  satisfaction of youth1  
but skip the years of manhood1 and are  
decrepid  soon after they are of age4   
#bb4 ,i was godfather to one of these   
old fellows4 ,he is now three and       
thirty1 which is the grand climacteric  
of a young drunkard4 ,i went to  visit  
the crazy wretch this morning1 with no  
other purpose but to rally  him1 under  
the pain and uneasiness of being sober4 
,but as our faults are double when they 
effect others besides ourselves1  so    
this vice is still more odious in a     

married than a single man4    #bc4 ,he  
that is the husband of a woman of       
honour1 and comes home  overloaded with 
wine1 is still more contemptible1 in    
proportion to the  regard we have to the
 unhappy consort of his bestiality4 ,the
 imagination  cannot shape to itself any
 thing more monstrous and unnatural1    
than the  familiarities between         
drunkenness and chastity4 ,the wretched 
,astra1  who is the perfection of beauty
 and innocence1 has long been thus      
condemned for life4 ,the romantic tales 
of virgins devoted to the jaws of       
monsters1 have nothing in them so       
terrible1 as the gift of ,astra to  that
 bacchanal4    #bd4 ,the reflection of  
such a match as spotless innocence with 
abandoned  lewdness1 is what puts this  
vice in the worst figure it can bear    
with  regard to others2 but when it is  
looked upon with respect only to the    
drunkard himself1 it has deformities    
enough to make it disagreeable1  which  
may be summed up in a word1 by allowing1

 that he who resigns his  reason1 is    
actually guilty of all that he is liable
 to from the want of  reason4           
,,tatler1 ,vol4 ,,iv1 ,no4 #bda4        
,gaming4      ,,sir1    #a4 ',as soon as
 you have set up your unicorn1 there is 
no question but  the ladies will make   
him push very furiously at the men2 for 
which  reason1 ,i think it is good to be
 beforehand with them1 and make the lion
  roar aloud at female irregularities4  
,among these ,i wonder how their  gaming
 has so long escaped your notice4    #b4
 ',you who converse with the sober      
family of the ,lizards1 are1  perhaps1 a
 stranger to these viragoes2 but what   
would you say1 should  you see the      
,sparkler shaking her elbow for a whole 
night together1 and  thumping the table 
with a dice-box8 ,or how would you like 
to hear good  widow lady herself        
returning to her house at midnight and  
alarming the  whole street with a most  
enormous rap1 after having sat up till  
that  time at crimp or ombre8 ,sir1 ,i  

am the husband of one of these female   
gamesters1 and a great loser by it both 
in rest my and pocket4 ,as my  wife     
reads your papers1 one upon this subject
 might be of use both to  her1 and2     
,,your ,,humble ,,servant4'    #c4 ,i   
should ill deserve the name of          
,guardian1 did ,i not caution all my    
fair wards against a practice1 which1   
when it runs to excess1 is the  most    
shameful but one that the female world  
can fall into4 ,the ill  consequences of
 it are more than can be contained in   
this paper4  ,however1 that ,i may      
proceed in method1 ,i shall consider    
them1 ,first1 as  they relate to the    
mind2 ,secondly1 as they relate to the  
body4    #d4 ,could we look into the    
mind of a female gamester1 we should see
 it  full of nothing but trumps and     
mattadores4 ,her slumbers are haunted   
with  kings1 queens1 and knaves4 ,the   
day lies heavy upon her till the        
play-season returns1 when for half a    
dozen hours together1 all her  faculties

 are employed in shuffling1 cutting1    
dealing and sorting out a  pack of      
cards2 and no ideas to be discovered in 
a soul which calls  itself rational1    
excepting little square figures of      
painted and spotted  paper4    #e4 ,was 
the understanding1 that divine part in  
our composition1 given for  such an use8
 ,is it thus that we improve the        
greatest talent human nature  is endowed
 with8 ,what would a superior being     
think1 were he shewn this  intellectual 
faculty in a female gamester1 and at the
 same time told1  that it was by this   
she was distinguished from brutes1 and  
allied to  angels8    #f4 ,when our     
women thus fill their imaginations with 
pips and counters1 ,i  cannot wonder at 
the story ,i have lately heard of a     
new-born child that  was marked with the
 five of clubs4    ,their passions      
suffer no less by this practice than    
their understandings  and imaginations4 
,what hope and fear1 joy and anger1     
sorrow and  discontent1 break out all at

 once in a fair assembly1 upon so noble 
an  occasion as that of turning up a    
card8    #g4 ,who can consider1 without 
a secret indignation1 that all those    
affections of the mind which should be  
consecrated to their children1  husbands
 and parents1 are thus vilely           
prostituted and thrown away upon a  hand
 at loo8 ,for my own part1 ,i cannot but
 be grieved1 when ,i see a fine  woman  
fretting and bleeding inwardly from such
 trivial motives3 when ,i  behold the   
face of an angel1 agitated and          
discomposed by the heart of a  fury4    
#h4 ,our minds are of such a make1 that 
they naturally give themselves up  to   
every diversion which they are much     
accustomed to1 and we always  find1 that
 play1 when followed with assiduity1    
engrosses the whole  woman4 ,she quickly
 grows uneasy in her own family1 takes  
but little  pleasure in all the domestic
 innocent endearments of life1 and grows
  more fond of ,pam than of her husband4
    #i4 ,my friend ,theophrastus1 the   

best of husbands and of fathers1 has    
often complained to me1 with tears in   
his eyes1 of the late hours he is       
forced to keep if he would enjoy his    
wife's conversation4 ,when she  returns 
to me with joy in her face1 it does not 
arise1 says he1 from the  sight of her  
husband but from the good luck she has  
had at cards4    #aj4 ,on the contrary1 
says he1 if she has been a loser1 ,i am 
doubly a  sufferer by it4 ,she comes    
home out of humor1 is angry with every  
body1  displeased with all ,i can do or 
say1 and in reality for no other reason 
but because she has been throwing away  
my estate4 ,what charming bed  fellows  
and companions for life are men likely  
to meet with1 that chuse  their wives   
out of such women of vogue and fashion8 
,what a race of  worthies1 what         
patriots1 what heroes must we expect    
from mothers of this  make8    #aa4 ,i  
come in the next place to consider the  
ill consequences which  gaming has on   
the bodies of our female adventurers4   

,it is so ordered1  that almost every   
thing which corrupts the soul decays the
 body4 ,the  beauties of the face and   
mind are generally destroyed by the same
 means4  ,this consideration should have
 a particular weight with the female    
world1 who are designed to please the   
eye and attract the regards of the      
other half of the species4    #ab4 ,now 
there is nothing that wears out a fine  
face like the vigils of  the card table1
 and those cutting passions which       
naturally attend them4  ,hollow eyes1   
haggard looks1 and pale complexions1 are
 the natural  indications of a female   
gamester4 ,her morning sleeps are not   
able to  repair her midnight watchings4 
#ac4 ,i have known a woman carried off  
half dead from bassette1 and have  many 
a time grieved1 to see a person of      
quality gliding by me in her  chair at  
two o'clock in the morning1 and looking 
like a spectre amidst a  glare of       
flambeaux3 in short1 ,i never knew a    
thorough-paced female  gamester hold her

 beauty two winters together4    #ad4   
,but there is still another case in     
which the body is more endangered  than 
in the former4 ,all play-debts must be  
paid in specie1 or by an  equivalent4   
,the man that plays beyond his income   
pawns his estate2 the  woman must find  
out something else to mortgage when her 
pin-money is  gone4 ,the husband has his
 lauds to dispose of1 the wife her      
person4 ,now  when the female body is   
once dipped1 if the creditor be very    
importunate1 ,i leave my reader to      
consider the consequences4    #ae4 ,it  
is needless here to mention the ill     
consequences attending this  passion    
among the men1 who are often bubbled out
 of their money and  estates by         
sharpers1 and to make up their loss1    
have recourse to means  productive of   
dire events1 instances of which         
frequently occur2 for  strictly         
speaking1 those who set their minds upon
 gaming1 can hardly be  honest2 a man's 
reflections1 after losing1 render him   

desperate1 so as  to commit violence    
either upon himself or some other       
person1 and  therefore gaming should be 
discouraged in all well regulated       
communities4          ,whisperers4      
,,sir1    #a4 ,as the ladies are        
naturally become the immediate objects  
of your  care1 will you permit a        
complaint to be inserted in your paper1 
which is  founded upon matter of fact8  
,they will pardon me1 if by laying      
before  you a particular instance ,i was
 lately witness to of their improper    
behaviour1 ,i endeavour to expose a     
reigning evil1 which subjects them to   
many shameful imputations4    #b4 ,i    
received last week a dinner card from a 
friend1 with an intimation  that ,i     
should meet some very agreeable ladies4 
,at my arrival1 ,i found  that the      
company consisted chiefly of females1   
who indeed did me the  honour to rise1  
but quite disconcerted me in paying my  
respects1 by  their whispering each     
other1 and appearing to stifle a laugh4 

,when ,i was  seated1 the ladies grouped
 themselves up in a corner1 and entered 
into a  private cabal1 seemingly to     
discourse upon points of great secrecy  
and  importance1 but of equal merriment 
and diversion4    #c4 ,the same conduct 
of keeping close to their ranks was     
observed at  table1 where the ladies    
seated themselves together4 ,their      
conversation  was here also confined    
wholly to themselves1 and seemed like   
the  mysteries of the ,bonna ,deo1 in   
which men were forbidden to have any    
share4 ,it was a continued laugh and a  
whisper from the beginning to the  end  
of dinner4 ,a whole sentence was scarce 
ever spoken aloud4    #d4 ,single words1
 indeed1 now and then broke forth2 such 
as odious1  horrid1 detestable1         
shocking1 ,,humbug4 ,this last          
new-coined  expression1 which is only to
 be found in the nonsensical vocabulary1
  sounds absurd and disagreeable1       
whenever it is pronounced2 but from the 
mouth of a lady it is1 shocking1        

detestable1 horrible and odious4    #e4 
,my friend seemed to be in an uneasy    
situation at his own table2 but ,i  was 
far more miserable4 ,i was mute1 and    
seldom dared to lift up my eyes  from my
 plate1 or turn my head to call for     
small beer1 lest by some  aukward       
posture ,i might draw upon me a whisper 
or a laugh4 ,sancho1  when he was forbid
 to eat of a delicious banquet set      
before him1 could  scarce appear more   
melancholy4    #f4 ,the rueful length of
 my face might possibly increase the    
mirth of my  tormentors3 at least their 
joy seemed to rise in exact proportion  
with  my misery4 ,at length1 however1   
the time of my delivery approached4     
,dinner ended1 the ladies made their    
exit in pairs1 and went off hand in     
hand whispering like the two kings of   
,brentford4    #g4 ,modest men1 ,mr4    
,town1 are deeply wounded when they     
imagine  themselves the subjects of     
ridicule or contempt2 and the pain is   
the  greater1 when it is given by those 

whom they admire1 and from whom they    
are ambitious of receiving any marks of 
countenance and favour4 ,yet we  must   
allow1 that affronts are pardonable from
 ladies1 as they are often  prognostics 
of future kindness4    #h4 ,if a lady   
strikes our cheek1 we can very willingly
 follow the precept  of the gospel1 and 
turn the other cheek to be smitten3 even
 a blow from  a fair hand conveys       
pleasure4 ,but this battery of whispers 
is against  all legal rights of war2    
poisoned arrows and stabs in the dark1  
are not  more repugnant to the general  
laws of humanity4    #i4 ,modern writers
 of comedy often introduce a pert       
titling into their  pieces1 who is very 
severe upon the rest of the company2 but
 all his  waggery is spoken             
aside4--,these giglers and whisperers   
seem to be  acting the same part in     
company that this arch rogue does in the
 play4  ,every word or motion produces a
 train of whispers2 the dropping of a   
snuff-box1 or spilling the tea1 is sure 

to be accompanied with a titter3  and1  
upon the entrance of any one with       
something particular in his  person1 or 
manner1 ,i have seen a whole room in a  
buz like a bee hive4    #aj4 ,this      
practice of whispering1 if it is any    
where allowable1 may  perhaps be        
indulged the fair sex at church1 where  
the conversation can  only be carried on
 by the secret symbols of a curtsy1 an  
ogle1 or a nod4  ,a whisper in this     
place is very often of great use1 as it 
serves to  convey the most secret       
intelligence1 which a lady would be     
ready to  burst with1 if she could not  
find vent for it by this kind of        
auricular  confession4 ,a piece of      
scandal transpires in this manner from  
one pew to  another1 then presently     
whizes along the channel1 from whence it
 crawls  up to the galleries1 till at   
last the whole church hums with it4     
#aa4 ,it were also to be wished1 that   
the ladies would be pleased to  confine 
themselves to whispering in their       

tete-a-tete conferences at  an opera or 
the play-house2 which would be a proper 
deference to the  rest of the audience4 
,in ,france1 we are told1 it is common  
for the  parterre to join with the      
performers in any favorite air3 but we  
seem  to have carried this custom still 
further1 as the company in our boxes1   
without concerning themselves in the    
least with the play1 are even  louder   
than the players4    #ab4 ,the wit and  
humour of a ,vanbrugh1 or a ,congreve1  
is frequently  interrupted by a         
brilliant dialogue between two persons  
of fashion2 and  a love scene in the    
side box has often been more attended   
to1 than that  on the stage4 ,as to     
their loud bursts of laughter at the    
theatre1 they  may very well be excused1
 when they are excited by any lively    
strokes in  a comedy3 but ,i have seen  
our ladies titter at the most           
distressful  scenes in ,romeo and       
,juliet1 grin over the anguish of a     
,monimia1 or  ,belvidera1 and fairly    

laugh king ,lear off the stage4    #ac4 
,thus the whole behaviour of these      
ladies is in direct contradiction  to   
good manners4 ,they laugh when they     
should cry1 are loud when they  should  
be silent1 and are silent when their    
conversation is desirable4  ,if a man in
 a select company was thus to laugh or  
whisper me out of  countenance1 ,i      
should be apt to construe it as an      
affront1 and demand an  explanation4    
#ad4 ,as to the ladies ,i would desire  
them to reflect how much they would     
suffer1 if their own weapons were turned
 against them1 and the gentlemen  should
 attack them with the same arts of      
laughing and whispering4 ,but1  however 
free they may be from our resentment1   
they are still open to  ill-natured     
suspicions4 ,they do not consider1 what 
strange constructions  may be put on    
these laughs and whispers4    #ae4 ,it  
were indeed1 of little consequence1 if  
we only imagined1 that  they were taking
 the reputation of their acquaintance to

 pieces1 or  abusing the company round2 
but when they indulge themselves in this
  behaviour1 some perhaps may be led to 
conclude1 that they are  discoursing    
upon topics1 which they are ashamed to  
speak of in a less  private manner4     
#af4 ,if the misconduct which ,i have   
described1 had been only to be  found1  
,mr4 ,town1 at my friend's table1 ,i    
should not have troubled you  with this 
letter3 but the same kind of ill        
breeding prevails too often1  and in too
 many places4 ,the giglers and the      
whisperers are innumerable2  they beset 
us wherever we go2 and it is observable1
 that after a short  murmur of whispers1
 out comes the burst of laughter3 like a
 gunpowder  serpent1 which1 after       
hissing about for some time1 goes off in
 a bounce4    #ag4 ,some excuse may     
perhaps be framed for this ill-timed    
merriment1 in  the fair sex4 ,venus1 the
 goddess of beauty1 is frequently called
  laughter-loving dame2 and by laughing1
 our modern ladies may possibly         

imagine1 that they render themselves    
like ,venus4 ,i have indeed  remarked1  
that the ladies commonly adjust their   
laugh to their persons1  and are merry  
in proportion as it sets off their      
particular charms4    #ah4 ,one lady is 
never further moved than to a smile or a
 simper1 because  nothing else shews her
 dimples to so much advantage2 another  
who has a  fine set of teeth1 runs into 
a broad grin2 while a third1 who is     
admired  for a well turned neck and     
graceful chest1 calls up all her        
beauties to  view by breaking into      
violent and repeated peals of laughter4 
#ai4 ,i would not be understood to      
impose gravity or too great a reserve   
on the fair sex4 ,let them laugh at a   
feather2 but let them declare  openly1  
that it is a feather which occasions    
their mirth4 ,i must  confess1 that     
laughter becomes the young1 the gay1 and
 the handsome3 but  a whisper is        
unbecoming at all ages1 and in both     
sexes3 nor ought it  ever to be         

practised1 except in the round gallery  
of ,st4 ,paul's1 or in  the famous      
whispering place in ,gloucester         
cathedral1 where two  whisperers hear   
each other at the distance of           
five-and-twenty yards4    ,i am1 ,sir1  
,your humble ,servant4          ,beauty4
    #a4 ,though the danger of           
disappointment is always in proportion  
to the  height of expectation1 yet ,i   
this day claim the attention of the     
ladies1  and profess to teach an art by 
which all may obtain what has hitherto  
been deemed the prerogative of a few3 an
 art by which their predominant  passion
 may be gratified1 and their conquest   
not only extended1 but  secured2 ,the   
art of being ,,pretty4    #b4 ,but      
though my subject may interest the      
ladies1 it may1 perhaps1  offend those  
profound moralists who have long since  
determined1 that  beauty ought rather to
 be despised than desired2 that1 like   
strength1 it  is a mere natural         
excellence1 the effect that causes      

wholly out of our  power1 and not       
intended either as the pledge of        
happiness or the  distinction of merit4 
#c4 ,to these gentlemen ,i shall remark1
 that beauty is among those  qualities  
which no effort of human wit could ever 
bring into contempt3  it is therefore to
 be wished at least1 that beauty was in 
some degree  dependent upon sentiment   
and manners1 that so high a privilege   
might not  be possessed by the unworthy1
 and that human reason might no longer  
suffer the mortification of those who   
are compelled to adore an idol1  which  
differs from a stone or log only by the 
skill of the artificer3  and if they    
cannot themselves behold beauty with    
indifference1 they  must1 surely1       
approve an attempt to shew that it      
merits their regard4    #d4 ,i shall1   
however1 principally consider that      
species of beauty which  is expressed in
 the countenance2 for this alone is     
peculiar to human  beings1 and is not   
less complicated than their nature4 ,in 

the  countenance there are but two      
requisites to perfect beauty1 which are 
wholly produced by external causes1     
colour and proportion3 and it will      
appear1 that even in common estimation  
these are not the chief2 but that       
though there may be beauty without them1
 yet there cannot be beauty  without    
something more4    #e4 ,the finest      
features1 ranged in the most exact      
symmetry1 and  heightened by the most   
blooming complexion1 must be animated   
before they  can strike2 and when they  
are animated1 will generally excite the 
same  passions which they express4 ,if  
they are fixed in the dead calm of      
insensibility1 they will be examined    
without emotion2 and if they do not     
express kindness1 they will be beheld   
without love4    #f4 ,looks of contempt1
 disdain1 or malevolence1 will be       
reflected1 as  from a mirror1 by every  
countenance on which they are turned2   
and if a  wanton aspect excites desire2 
it is but like that of a savage for his 

prey1 which cannot be gratified without 
the destruction of its object4    #g4   
,among particular graces1 the dimple has
 always been allowed the  pre-eminence1 
and the reason is evident2 dimples are  
produced by a  smile1 and a smile is an 
expression of complacency2 so the       
contraction  of the brows into a frown1 
as it is an indication of a contrary    
temper1  has always been deemed a       
capital defect4    #h4 ,the lover is    
generally at a loss to define the       
beauty1 by which his  passion was       
suddenly and irresistibly determined to 
a particular object2  but this could    
never happen1 if it depended upon any   
known rule of  proportion1 upon the     
shape and disposition of the features1  
or the  colour of the skin3 he tells you
 that it is something which he cannot   
fully express1 something not fixed in   
any part1 but diffused over the  whole2 
he calls it a sweetness1 a softness1 a  
placid sensibility1 or  gives it some   
other appellation which connects beauty 

with sentiment1  and expresses a charm  
which is not peculiar to any set of     
features1 but  is perhaps possible to   
all4    #i4 ,this beauty1 however1 does 
not always consist in smiles1 but varies
  as expressions of meekness and        
kindness vary with their objects3 it is 
extremely forcible in the silent        
complaint of patient sufferance1 the    
tender solicitude of friendship1 and the
 glow of filial obedience2 and  in      
tears1 whether of joy1 of pity1 or of   
grief1 it is almost  irresistible4      
#aj4 ,this is the charm which captivates
 without the aid of nature1 and  without
 which her utmost bounty is ineffectual4
 ,but it cannot be assumed  as a mask to
 conceal insensibility or malevolence2  
it must be the  genuine effect of       
corresponding sentiments1 or it will    
impress upon the  countenance a new and 
more disgusting deformity1 affectation3 
it will  produce the grin1 the simper1  
the stare1 the languish1 the pout1 and  
innumerable other grimaces1 that render 

folly ridiculous1 and change  pity to   
contempt4    #aa4 ,by some1 indeed1 this
 species of hypocrisy has been practised
 with  such skill as to deceive         
superficial observers1 though it can    
deceive  even those but for a           
moment4--,looks which do not correspond 
with the  heart1 cannot be assumed      
without labour1 nor continued without   
pain2 the  motive to relinquish them    
must1 therefore1 soon preponderate1 and 
the  aspect and apparel of the visit    
will be laid by together2 the smiles and
  languishments of art will vanish1 and 
the fierceness of rage1 or the  gloom of
 discontent1 will either obscure or     
destroy all the elegance of  symmetry   
and complexion4    #ab4 ,the artificial 
aspect is1 indeed1 as wretched a        
substitute for the  expression of       
sentiment2 as the smear of paint for the
 blushes of  health3 it is not only     
equally transient1 and equally liable to
  dejection2 but as paint leaves the    
countenance yet more withered and       

ghastly1 the passions burst out with    
move violence after restraint1 the      
features become more distorted and      
excite more determined aversion4    #ac4
 ,beauty1 therefore1 depends principally
 upon the mind1 and1  consequently1 may 
be influenced by education4 ,it has been
 remarked1 that  the predominant passion
 may generally be discovered in the     
countenance2  because the muscles by    
which it is expressed1 being almost     
perpetually  contracted1 lose their     
tone1 and never totally relax2 so that  
the  expression remains when the passion
 is suspended2 thus an angry1 a         
disdainful1 a subtle and a suspicious   
temper1 is displayed in characters  that
 are almost universally understood4     
#ad4 ,it is equally true of the pleasing
 and the softer passions1 that  they    
leave their signatures upon the         
countenance when they cease to act3  the
 prevalence of these passions1          
therefore1 produces a mechanical  effect
 upon the aspect1 and gives a turn and  

cast to the features which  makes a more
 favorable and forcible impression upon 
the mind of others1  than any charm     
produced by mere external causes4       
#ae4 ,neither does the beauty which     
depends upon temper and sentiment1      
equally endanger the possessor3 ,it is1 
to use an eastern metaphor1  like the   
towers of a city1 not only an ornament1 
but a defence2 if it  excites desire1 it
 at once controls and refines it2 it    
represses with  awe1 it softens with    
delicacy1 and it wins to imitation4 ,the
 love of  reason and virtue is mingled  
with the love of beauty2 because this   
beauty is little more than the emanation
 of intellectual excellence1  which is  
not an object of corporeal appetite4    
#af4 ,as it excites a purer passion1 it 
also more forcibly engages to  fidelity3
 every man finds himself more powerfully
 restrained from giving  pain to        
goodness than to beauty2 and every look 
of a countenance in  which they are     
blended1 in which beauty is the         

expression of goodness1  is a silent    
reproach of the first irregular wish3   
and the purpose  immediately appears to 
be disingenious and cruel1 by which the 
tender  hope of ineffable affection     
would be disappointed1 the placid       
confidence  of unsuspected simplicity   
abased1 and the peace even of virtue    
endangered by the most sordid           
infidelity1 and the breach of the       
strongest obligations4    #ag4 ,but the 
hope of the hypocrite must perish4 ,when
 the fictitious  beauty has laid by her 
smiles1 when the lustre of her eyes and 
the bloom  of her cheeks have lost their
 influence with their novelty2 what     
remains  but a tyrant divested of power1
 who will never be seen without a       
mixture  of indignation and disdain8    
,the only desire which this object could
  gratify1 will be transferred to       
another1 not only without reluctance1   
but with triumph4    #ah4 ,as resentment
 will succeed to disappointment1 a      
desire to mortify  will succeed to a    

desire to please2 and the husband may be
 urged to  solicit a mistress1 merely by
 a remembrance of the beauty of his     
wife1  which lasted only till she was   
known4    ,let it therefore be          
remembered1 that none can be disciples  
of the  ,graces1 but in the school of   
,virtue2 and that those who wish to be  
lovely1 must learn early to be good4    
#ai4 ,a ,,friend of mine has two        
daughters1 whom ,i will call ,ltitia and
  ,daphne4 ,the former is one of the    
greatest beauties of the age in which   
she lives2 the latter no way remarkable 
for any charms in her person4  ,upon    
this one circumstance of their outward  
form1 the good and ill of  their life   
seem to turn4 ,ltitia has not from her  
very childhood heard  any thing else but
 commendations of her features and      
complexion1 by  which means she is no   
other than nature made her1 a very      
beautiful  outside4    #bj4 ,the        
consciousness of her charms has rendered
 her insupportably vain  and insolent   

towards all who have to do with her4    
,daphne1 who was  almost twenty before  
one civil thing had ever been said to   
her1 found  herself obliged to acquire  
some accomplishments to make up for the 
want  of those attractions which she saw
 in her sister4    #ba4 ,poor ,daphne   
was seldom submitted to in a debate     
wherein she was  concerned2 her         
discourse had nothing to recommend it   
but the good sense  of it1 and she was  
always under a necessity to have very   
well considered  what she was to say    
before she uttered it2 while ,ltitia was
 listened  to with partiality1 and      
approbation sat in the countenances of  
those she  conversed with1 before she   
communicated what she had to say4       
#bb4 ,these causes have produced        
suitable effects1 and ,ltitia is as     
insipid a companion as ,daphne is an    
agreeable one4 ,ltitia1  confident of   
favour1 has studied no arts to please3  
,daphne1 despairing  of any inclination 
towards her person1 has depended only on

 her merit4  ,ltitia has always         
something in her air that is sullen1    
grave and  disconsolate4    #bc4 ,daphne
 has a countenance that appears         
cheerful1 open and  unconcerned4 ,a     
young gentleman saw ,ltitia this winter 
at play1 and  became her captive4 ,his  
fortune was such1 that he wanted very   
little  introduction to speak his       
sentiments to her father4 ,the lover was
  admitted with the utmost freedom into 
the family1 where a constrained         
behaviour1 severe looks1 and distant    
civilities were the highest favours  he 
could obtain from ,ltitia2 while ,daphne
 used him with the good  humour1        
familiarity1 and innocence of a sister4 
#bd4 ,insomuch that he would often say  
to her1 ,dear ,daphne1 wert thou but  as
 handsome as ,ltitia6--,she received    
such language with that ingenious  and  
pleasing mirth1 which is natural to a   
woman without design4 ,he still  sighed 
in vain for ,ltitia but found certain   
relief in the agreeable  conversation of

 ,daphne4 ,at length1 heartily tired    
with the haughty  impertinence of       
,ltitia1 and charmed with repeated      
instances of good  humour he had        
observed in ,daphne1 he one day told the
 latter1 that he  had something to say  
to her he hoped she would be pleased    
with4    #be4 ----,faith ,daphne1       
continued he1 ,i am in love with thee1  
and  despise thy sister sincerely4 ,the 
manner of his declaring himself gave    
his mistress occasion for a very hearty 
laughter4--,nay1 says he1 ,i  knew you  
would laugh at me1 but ,i'll ask your   
father4 ,he did so2 the  father received
 his intelligence with no less joy than 
surprize1 and was  very glad he had now 
no care left but for his beauty1 which  
he thought  he would carry to market at 
his leisure4    #bf4 ,i do not know any 
thing that has pleased me so much a     
great while1  as this conquest of my    
friend ,daphne's4 ,all her acquaintance 
congratulate her upon her chance medley1
 and laugh at that premeditating        

murderer1 her sister4 ,as it is an      
argument of a light mind1 to think the  
worse of ourselves for the imperfections
 of our persons1 it is equally  below us
 to value ourselves upon the advantages 
of them4    #bg4 ,the female world seems
 to be almost incorrigibly gone astray  
in this  particular2 for which reason1  
,i shall recommend the following extract
  out of a friend's letter to the       
profess'd beauties1 who are a people    
almost as insufferable as the profess'd 
wits4    ',monsier ,st4 ,evrement has   
concluded one of his essays with        
affirming1  that the last sighs of a    
handsome woman are not so much for the  
loss of  her life1 as her beauty4       
#bh4 ',perhaps this raillery is pursued 
too far1 yet it is turned upon a  very  
obvious remark1 that woman's strongest  
passion is for her own  beauty1 and that
 she values it as her favourite         
distinction4 ,from hence  it is that all
 hearts1 which intend to improve or     
preserve it1 meet with  so general a    

reception among the sex4    #bi4 ,to say
 nothing ,of many false helps1 and      
contraband wares of beauty1  which are  
daily vended in this great mart1 there  
is not a maiden  gentlewoman1 of a good 
family1 in any county of ,south         
,britain1 who has  not heard of the     
virtues of may-dew1 or is unfurnished   
with some receipt  or other in favour of
 her complexion2 and ,i have known a    
physician of  learning and sense1 after 
eight years study in the university and 
a  course of travels into most countries
 of ,europe1 owe the first raising  of  
his fortune to a cosmetic wash4    #cj4 
',this has given me occasion to consider
 how so universal a  disposition in     
womankind1 which springs from a laudable
 motive1 the  desire of pleasing1 and   
proceeds upon an opinion1 not altogether
  groundless1 that nature may be helped 
by art1 may be turned to their          
advantage4 ,and1 methinks1 it would be  
an acceptable service to take them  out 
of the hands of quacks and pretenders1  

and to prevent their  imposing upon     
themselves1 by discovering to them the  
true secret and art  of improving       
beauty4    #ca4 ',in order to do this1  
before ,i touch upon it directly1 it    
will be  necessary to lay down a few    
preliminary maxims1 viz4    ,that no    
woman can be handsome by the force of   
features alone1 any more  she can be    
witty only by the help of speech4       
,that pride destroys all symmetry and   
grace1 and affectation is a more        
terrible enemy to fine faces than the   
small-pox4    ,that no woman is capable 
of being beautiful1 who is not incapable
 of  being false4    ,and1 that what    
would be odious in a friend1 is         
deformity in a mistress4    #cb ',from  
these few principles thus laid down1 it 
will be easy to prove  that the true art
 of assisting beauty consists in        
embellishing the whole  person by the   
proper ornaments of virtuous and        
commendable qualities4 ,by  this help   
alone it is1 that those who are the     

favourite work of nature1  or1 as ,mr4  
,dryden expresses it1 the porcelain clay
 of human kind1  become animated1 and   
are in a capacity of exerting their     
charms3 and  those who seem to have been
 neglected by her1 like models wrought  
in  haste1 are capable1 in a great      
measure1 of finishing what she has left 
imperfect4    #cc4 ',it is1 methinks1 a 
low and degrading idea of that sex1     
which was  created to refine the joys1  
and soften the cares of humanity1 by the
  most agreeable participation1 to      
consider them merely as objects of      
sight4--,this is abridging them of their
 natural extent of power to put  them   
upon a level with their pictures at the 
pantheon4 ,how much nobler  is the      
contemplation of beauty heightened by   
virtue1 and commanding our  esteem and  
love1 while it draws our observation8   
#cd4 ',how faint and spiritless are the 
charms of a coquette1 when  compared    
with the real loveliness of ,sophronia's
 innocence1 piety1  good-humour1 and    

truth2 virtues which add a new softness 
to her sex1 and  even beautify her      
beauty6 ,that agreeableness1 which must 
otherwise have  appeared no longer in   
the modest virgin1 is now preserved in  
the tender  mother1 the prudent friend  
and faithful wife'4    #ce4 ',colours   
artfully spread upon canvas may         
entertain the eye1 but not  affect the  
heart2 and she1 who takes no care to add
 to the natural  graces of her person1  
any excelling qualities1 may be allowed 
still to  amuse as a picture1 but not to
 triumph as a beauty4    ',when ,adam is
 introduced by ,milton describing ,eve  
in ,paradise1 and  relating to the angel
 the impressions he felt upon seeing her
 at her  first creation1 he does not    
represent her like a ,grecian ,venus1 by
 her  shape of features1 but by the     
lustre of her mind which shone in them1 
and gave them their power of charming4  
#cf4        ,grace was in all her steps1
 ,heav'n in her eye1      ,in all her   
gestures dignity and love3    ',without 

this irradiating power1 the proudest    
fair-one ought to know1  whatever her   
glass may tell her to the contrary1 that
 her most perfect  features are         
uninformed and dead4    ',i cannot      
better close this moral1 than by a short
 epitaph1 written by  ,ben ,johnson with
 a spirit which nothing could inspire1  
but such an  object as ,i have been     
describing4        ',underneath this    
stone doth lie1      ,as much virtue as 
could die2      ,which when alive did   
vigour give      ,to as much beauty as  
could live4'      ,i am1 ,sir    ,your  
most humble ,servant1    ,r4,b4         
,,spectator1 ,vol4 ,i4 ,no4#cc4         
,honour4      #a4 ,every principle that 
is a motive to good actions1 ought to be
  encouraged1 since men are of so       
different a make1 that the same         
principle does not work equally upon all
 minds4 ,what some men are  prompted to 
by conscience1 duty1 or religion1 which 
are only different  names for the same  
thing1 others are prompted to by honour4

    #b4 ,the sense of honour is of so   
fine and delicate a nature1 that it is  
only to be met with in minds which are  
naturally noble1 or in such as  have    
been cultivated by great examples1 or a 
refined education4 ,this  paper1        
therefore1 is chiefly designed for those
 who by means of any of  these          
advantages1 are1 or ought to be1        
actuated by this glorious  principle4   
#c4 ',but as nothing is more pernicious 
than a principle or action1 when  it is 
misunderstood1 ,i shall consider honour 
with respect to three sorts  of men4    
,first of all1 with regard to those who 
have a right notion of  it4 ,secondly1  
with regard to those who have a mistaken
 notion of it4 ,and  thirdly1 with      
regard to those who treat it as         
chimerical1 and turn it  into ridicule4 
#d4 ',in the first place1 true honour1  
though it be a different principle  from
 religion1 is that which produces the   
same effects4 ,the lines of  action1    
though drawn from different parts1      

terminate in the same point4  ,religion 
embraces virtue as it is enjoined by the
 laws of ,god3 ,honour1  as it is       
graceful and ornamental to human nature4
    #e4 ',the religious man fears1 the  
man of honor scorns to do an ill        
action4 ,the former considers vice as   
something that is beneath him1 the      
other as something that is offensive to 
the ,divine ,being4 ,the one as  what is
 unbecoming1 the other as what          
forbidden4 ,thus ,seneca  speaks in the 
natural and genuine language of a man of
 honor1 when he  declares that were     
there no ,god to see or punish vice1 he 
would not  commit it1 because it is of  
so mean1 so base1 and so vile a nature4 
#f4 ',i shall conclude this head with   
the description of honor in the part  of
 young ,juba4        ,honour's a sacred 
tie1 the law of kings1      ,the noble  
mind's distinguishing perfection1       
,that aids and strengthens virtue where 
it meets her1      ,and imitates her    
actions where she is not4      ,it ought

 not to be sported with4--              
,,cato4    #g4 ',in the second place we 
are to consider those who have mistaken 
notions of honor1 and these are such as 
establish any thing to  themselves for a
 point of honor which is contrary either
 to the laws of  ,god1 or of their      
country2 who think it is more honourable
 to revenge  than to forgive an injury2 
who make no scruple of telling a lie1   
but  would put any man to death that    
accuses them of it3 who are more careful
  to guard their reputation by their    
courage than by their virtue4    #h4    
',true fortitude is indeed so becoming  
in human nature1 that he who  wants it  
scarce deserves the name of a man2 but  
we find several who so  much abuse this 
notion that they place the whole idea of
 honor in a kind  of brutal courage2 by 
which means we have had many among us   
who have  called themselves men of      
honour1 that would have been a disgrace 
to a  gibbet4    #i4 ,in a word1 the man
 who sacrifices any duty of a reasonable

 creature  to a prevailing mode of      
fashion1 who looks upon any thing as    
honourable  that is displeasing to his  
,maker1 or destructive to society1 who  
thinks  himself obliged by this         
principle to the practice of some       
virtues and  not of others1 is by no    
means to be reckoned among true men of  
honor4    #aj4 ,timogenes was a lively  
instance of one actuated by false honor4
  ,timogenes would smile at a man's jest
 who ridiculed his ,maker1 and at  the  
same time run a man thro' the body that 
spoke ill of his friend4  ,timogenes    
would have scorned to have betrayed a   
secret1 that was  intrusted with him1   
though the fate of his country depended 
upon the  discovery of it4    #aa4      
,timogenes took away the life of a young
 fellow in a duel1 for  having spoken   
ill of ,belinda1 a lady whom he himself 
had seduced in  his youth1 and betrayed 
into want and ignominy4 ,to close his   
character1  ,timogenes1 after having    
ruined several poor tradesmen's         

families1 who  had trusted him1 sold his
 estate to satisfy his creditors2 but1  
like a  man of honor1 disposed of all   
the money he could make of it1 in paying
  off his play-debts1 or1 to speak in   
his own language1 his debts of  honor4  
#ab4 ,in the third place1 we are to     
consider those persons1 who treat this  
principle as chimerical1 and turn it    
into ridicule4 ,men who are  professedly
 of no honour1 are of a more profligate 
and abandoned nature1  than even those  
who are actuated by false notions of it1
 as there is  more hope of a heretic    
than of an atheist4 ,these sons of      
infamy consider  honor with old ,syphax1
 in the play before mentioned1 as a fine
  imaginary notion1 that leads astray   
young unexperienced men1 and draws  them
 into real mischief1 while they are     
engaged in the pursuits of a  shadow4   
#ac4 ,these are generally persons1 who1 
in ,shakspeare's phrase1 are  worn and  
hackney'd in the ways of men2 whose     
imaginations are grown  callous1 and    

have lost all those delicate sentiments 
which are natural  to minds that are    
innocent and undepraved4 ,such old      
battered miscreants  ridicule every     
thing as romantic1 that comes in        
competition with their  present         
interest1 and treat those persons as    
visionaries who dare stand  up in a     
corrupt age1 for what has not its       
immediate reward joined to it4    #ad4  
,the talents1 interest1 or experience of
 such men1 make them very  often useful 
in all parties1 and at all times4 ,but  
whatever wealth and  dignities they may 
arrive at1 they ought to consider1 that 
every one  stands as a blot in the      
annals of his country1 who arrives at   
the temple  of honor by any other way   
than through that of virtue4            
,,guardian1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 ,no4 #afa4      
,human ,nature4      ,mr4 ,,spectator1  
#a4 ',i have always been a very great   
lover of your speculations1 as well  in 
regard to the subject1 as to your manner
 of treating it4 ,human nature  ,i      

always thought the most useful object of
 human reason1 and to make the          
consideration of it pleasant and        
entertaining1 ,i always thought the best
  employment of human wit3 other parts  
of philosophy may make us wiser1  but   
this not only answers that end1 but     
makes us better too4    #b4 ',hence it  
was that the oracle pronounced ,socrates
 the wisest of all  men living1 because 
he judiciously made choice of human     
nature for the  object of his thoughts2 
an enquiry into which as much exceeds   
all other  learning1 as it is of more   
consequence to adjust the true nature   
and  measures of right and wrong1 than  
to settle the distance of the planets1  
and compute the times of their          
circumvolutions4    #c4 ',one good      
effect that will immediately arise from 
a near observation  of human nature1 is1
 that we shall cease to wonder at those 
actions  which men are used to reckon   
wholly unaccountable2 for as nothing is 
produced without a cause1 so by         

observing the nature and course of the  
passions1 we shall be able to trace     
every action from its first  conceptions
 to its death4    #d4 ',we shall no more
 admire at the proceedings of ,cataline 
and  ,tiberius1 when we know the one was
 actuated by a cruel jealousy2 the      
other by a furious ambition2 for the    
actions of men follow their  passions as
 naturally as light does heat1 or as any
 other effect flows  from its cause2    
reason must be employed in adjusting the
 passions1 but  they must ever remain   
the principles of action4    #e4 ',the  
strange and absurd variety that is so   
apparent in men's actions1  shews       
plainly they can never proceed          
immediately from reason2 so pure a      
fountain emits no such troubled waters3 
they must necessarily arise from  the   
passions1 which are to the mind as the  
winds to a ship2 they only  can move it1
 and they too often destroy it2 if fair 
and gentle1 they  guide it into the     
harbour2 if contrary and furious1 they  

overset it in  the waves4    #f4 ',in   
the same manner is the mind assisted or 
endangered by the  passions2 reason must
 then take the place of pilot1 and can  
never fail  of securing her charge if   
she be not wanting to herself2 the      
strength of  the passions will never be 
accepted as an excuse for complying with
  them3 they were designed for          
subjection2 and if a man suffers them to
  get the upper hand1 he then betrays   
the liberty of his own soul4    #g4 ',as
 nature has framed the several species  
of beings as it were in a  chain1 so man
 seems to be placed as the middle link  
between angels and  brutes2 hence he    
participates both of flesh and spirit by
 an admirable  tye1 which in him        
occasions perpetual war of passions2 and
 as a man  inclines to the angelic or   
brute part of his constitution1 he is   
then  denominated good or bad1 virtuous 
or wicked3 if love1 mercy1 and          
good-nature prevail1 they speak him of  
the angel2 if hatred1 cruelly1  and envy

 predominate1 they declare his kindred  
to the brute4    #h4 ',hence it was that
 some ancients imagined1 that as men in 
this life  incline more to the angel or 
the brute1 so after their death they    
should  transmigrant into the one or the
 other2 and it would be no unpleasant   
notion to consider the several species  
of brutes1 into which we may  imagine   
that tyrants1 misers1 the proud1        
malicious1 and ill-natured1  might be   
changed4    #i4 ',as a consequence of   
this original1 all passions are in all  
men1 but  appear not in all3            
constitution1 education1 custom of the1 
country1  reason1 and the like causes   
may improve or abate the strength of    
them1  but still the seeds remain1 which
 are ever ready to sprout forth upon    
the least encouragement4    #aj4 ',i    
have heard a story of a good religious  
man1 who having been bred  with the milk
 of a goat1 was very modest in public1  
by a careful  reflection he made of his 
actions1 but he frequently had an hour  

in  secret1 wherein he had his frisks   
and capers2 and1 if we had an           
opportunity of examining the retirement 
of the strictest philosophers1  no doubt
 but we should find perpetual returns of
 those passions they so  artfully       
conceal from the public4    #aa4 ',i    
remember ,machiavel observes1 that every
 state should entertain  a perpetual    
jealousy of its neighbours1 that so it  
should never be  unprovided when an     
emergency happens2 in like manner should
 reason be  perpetually on its guard    
against the passions1 and never suffer  
them to  carry on any design that may be
 destructive of its security2 yet1 at   
the  same time1 it must be careful1 that
 it don't so far break their strength   
as to render them contemptible1 and1    
consequently1 itself unguarded4    #ab4 
',the understanding being of itself too 
slow and lazy to exert itself  into     
action1 it is necessary it should be put
 in motion by the gentle  gales of      
passion1 which may preserve it from     

stagnation and corruption2  for they are
 necessary to the help of the mind1 as  
the circulation of  the animal spirits  
is to the health of the body2 they keep 
it in life1  and strength and vigour3   
nor is it possible for the mind to      
perform its  offices without their      
assistance2 these motions are given us  
with our  being3 they are little        
spirits1 that are born and die with us2 
to some  they are mild1 easy and gentle2
 to others wayward and unruly2 yet never
  too strong for the reins of reason1   
and the guidance of judgment4    #ac4   
',we may generally observe a pretty nice
 proportion1 between the  strength of   
reason and passion2 the greatest        
geniuses have commonly the  strongest   
affections1 as on the other hand1 the   
weaker understandings  have generally   
the weaker passions3 and 'tis fit the   
fury of the  coursers should not be too 
great for the strength of the           
charioteer4    #ad4 ',young men1 whose  
passions are not a little unruly1 give  

small hopes  of their being             
considerable2 the fire of youth will of 
course abate1 and  is a fault1 if it be 
a fault1 that mends every day2 but      
surely1 unless a  man has fire in youth1
 he can hardly have warmth in old age4  
#ae4 ,we must therefore be very         
cautious1 lest while we think to        
regulate  the passions1 we should quite 
extinguish them2 which is putting out   
the  light of the soul2 for to be       
without passion1 or to be hurried away  
with  it1 makes a man equally blind4    
,the extraordinary severity used in most
  of our schools has this fatal effect2 
it breaks the spring of the mind1  and  
most certainly destroys more good       
geniuses than it can possibly  improve4 
#af4 ',and surely 'tis a mighty mistake 
that the passions should be so  entirely
 subdued2 for little irregularities are 
sometimes not only to be  borne with1   
but to be cultivated too1 since they are
 frequently attended  with the greatest 
perfections4 ,all great geniuses have   

faults mixed with  their virtues1 and   
resemble the flaming bush which has     
thorns amongst  lights4    #ag4 ',since 
therefore the passions are the          
principles of human actions1  we must   
endeavour to manage them so as to retain
 their vigour1 yet keep  them under     
strict command2 we must govern them     
rather like free subjects  than slaves1 
lest while we intend to make them       
obedient1 they become  abject1 and unfit
 for those great purposes to which they 
were designed4    #ah4 ',for my part ,i 
must confess1 ,i could never have any   
regard to that  sect of philosophers1   
who so much insisted upon an absolute   
indifference  and vacancy from all      
passion2 for it seems to me a thing very
  inconsistent for a man to divest      
himself of humanity1 in order to        
acquire tranquility of mind1 and to     
eradicate the very principles of        
action1 because it is possible they may 
produce ill effects4    ,i am1 ,sir1    
,your affectionate admirer    ,t4,b4    

,,spectator1 ,vol4 ,,iv4 ,no4 #djh4     
,the ,advantages of representing ,human 
,nature in its proper ,dignity4         
,,tatler1 ,no4 #aih4    ,it is not to be
 imagined how great an effect           
well-disposed lights1 with  proper      
forms1 and orders in assemblies1 have   
upon some tempers1 ,i am  sure ,i feel  
it in so extraordinary a manner1 that ,i
 cannot in a day or  two get out of my  
imagination any very beautiful or       
disagreeable  impression which ,i       
receive on such occasions4 ,for this    
reason ,i  frequently look in at the    
play-house1 in order to enlarge my      
thoughts1  and warm my mind with some   
new ideas1 that may be serviceable to me
 in  my lucubrations4    #a4 ,in this   
disposition ,i entered the theatre the  
other day1 and placed  myself in a      
corner of it1 very convenient for       
seeing1 without being  myself observed4 
,i found the audience hushed in a very  
deep attention1  and did not question   
but some noble tragedy was just then in 

its crisis1  or that an incident was to 
be unravelled which would determine the 
fate  of an hero4 ,while ,i was in this 
suspense1 expecting every moment to see 
my old friend ,mr4 ,bitterton appear in 
all the majesty of distress1 to  my     
unspeakable amazement1 there came up a  
monster with a face between  his feet2  
and1 as ,i was looking on1 he raised    
himself on one leg in such  a           
perpendicular posture1 that the other   
grew in a direct line above his  head4  
#b4 ,it afterwards twisted itself into  
the motions and wreathings of  several  
different animals1 and1 after great     
variety of shapes and  transformations1 
went off the stage in the figure of a   
human creature4  ,the admiration1 the   
applause1 the satisfaction of the       
audience1 during  this strange          
entertainment1 is not to be expressed4  
,i was very much out  of countenance for
 my dear countrymen1 and looked about   
with some  apprehension1 for fear any   
foreigner should be present4    #c4 ,is 

it possible1 thought ,i1 that human     
nature can rejoice in its  disgrace1 and
 take pleasure in seeing its own figure 
turned into  ridicule1 and distorted    
into forms that raise horror and        
aversion8 ,there  is something          
disingenuous and immoral in the being   
able to bear such a  sight4 ,men of     
elegant and noble minds are shocked at  
the seeing  characters of persons who   
deserve esteem for their virtue1        
knowledge1 or  services to their        
country1 placed in wrong lights1 and by 
misrepresentations made the subject of  
buffoonery4    #d4 ,such a nice         
abhorrence is not1 indeed1 to be found  
among the vulgar2  but methinks it is   
wonderful1 that those1 who have nothing 
but the  outward figure to distinguish  
them as men1 should delight in seeing it
  abused1 vilified and disgraced4    ,i 
must confess there is nothing that more 
pleases me1 in all that ,i  read in     
books1 or see among mankind1 than such  
passages as represent  human nature in  

its proper dignity4    #e4 ,as man is a 
creature made up of different extremes1 
he has something  in him very great and 
very mean3 a skilful artist may draw an 
excellent  picture of him in either of  
these views4 ,the finest authors of     
antiquity  have taken him on the more   
advantageous side4 ,they cultivate the  
natural  grandeur of the soul1 raise in 
her a generous ambition1 feed her with  
hopes of immortality and perfection1 and
 do all they can to widen the  partition
 between the virtuous and the vicious1  
by making the difference  betwixt them  
as great as between gods and brutes4    
#f4 ,in short1 it is impossible to read 
a page in ,plato1 ,tully1 and a         
thousand other ancient moralists1       
without being a greater and a better    
man for it4 ,on the contrary1 ,i could  
never read any of our modish  ,french   
authors1 or those of our own country who
 are the imitators and  admirers of that
 trifling nation1 without being for some
 time out of  humour with myself1 and at

 every thing about me4    #g4 ,their    
business is1 to depreciate human nature1
 and consider it under  its worst       
appearances4 ,they give mean            
interpretations and base motives  to the
 worthiest actions2 they resolve virtue 
and vice into  constitution4 ,in short1 
they endeavour to make no distinction   
between  man and man1 or between the    
species of men and that of brutes4 ,as  
an  instance of this kind of authors1   
among many others1 let any one examine  
the celebrated ,rochefoucault1 who is   
the great philosopher for  administering
 of consolation to the idle1 the        
envious1 and worthless  parts of        
mankind4    #h4 ,i remember a young     
gentleman of moderate understanding1 but
 great  vivacity1 who1 by dipping into  
many authors of this nature1 had got a  
little smattering of knowledge1 just    
enough to make an atheist or a free     
thinker1 but not a philosopher or a man 
of sense4 ,with these  accomplishments1 
he went to visit his father in the      

country1 who was a  plain1 rough1 honest
 man1 and wise though not learned4 ,the 
son1 who took  all opportunities to shew
 his learning1 began to establish a new 
religion in the family1 and to enlarge  
the narrowness of their country         
notions2 in which he succeeded so well1 
that he had seduced the butler  by his  
table talk1 and staggered his eldest    
sister4    #i4 ,the old gentleman began 
to be alarmed at the schisms that arose 
among his children1 but did not yet     
believe his son's doctrine to be so     
pernicious as it really was1 till one   
day talking of his setting-dog1  the son
 said he did not question but ,trey was 
as immortal as any one  of the family2  
and in the heat of the argument told his
 father1 that for  his own part he      
expected to die like a dog4 ,upon which 
the old  gentleman1 starting up in a    
very great passion1 cried out1 ,then1   
sirrah1  you shall live like one2 and   
taking his cane in his hand1 cudgeled   
him  out of his system4 ,this had so    

good an effect upon him1 that he took up
  from that day1 fell to reading good   
books1 and is now a bencher in the      
,middle ,temple4    #aj4 ,i do not      
mention this cudgeling part of the story
 with a design to  engage the secular   
arm in matters of this nature2 but      
certainly1 if it  ever exerts itself in 
affairs of opinion and speculation1 it  
ought to do  it on such shallow and     
despicable pretenders to knowledge1 who 
endeavour  to give man dark and         
uncomfortable prospects of his being1   
and destroy  those principles which are 
the support1 happiness1 and glory of all
  public societies1 as well as private  
persons4    #aa4 ,i think it is one of  
,pythagoras's golden sayings1 that a man
  should take care above all things to  
have a due respect for himself2  and it 
is certain1 that this licentious sort of
 authors1 who are for  depreciating     
mankind1 endeavour to disappoint and    
undo what the most  refined spirits have
 been labouring to advance since the    

beginning of  the world4 ,the very      
design of dress1 good-breeding1 outward 
ornaments  and ceremonies1 were to lift 
up human nature1 and set it of too      
advantage4 ,architecture1 painting1 and 
statuary1 were invented with the  same  
design2 as indeed every art and science 
that contributes to the  embellishment  
of life1 and to the wearing off and     
throwing into shades  the mean and low  
parts of our nature4    #ab4 ,poetry    
carries on this great end more than all 
the rest1 as may be  seen in the        
following passages taken out of ,sir    
,francis ,bacon's  ,advancement of      
,learning1 which gives a true and better
 account of this  art than all the      
volumes that were ever written upon it4 
,poetry1 especially heroical1 seems to  
be raised altogether from a noble       
foundation1 which makes much for the    
dignity of man's nature4 ,for  seeing   
this sensible world is in dignity       
inferior to the soul of man1  poesy     
seems to endow human nature with that   

which history denies2 and to  give      
satisfaction to the mind1 with at least 
the shadow of things1 where  the        
substance cannot be had4    #ac4 ,for if
 the matter be thoroughly considered1 a 
strong argument may  be drawn from      
poesy1 that a more stately greatness of 
things1 a more  perfect order1 and a    
more beautiful variety1 delights the    
soul of man  than any way can be found  
in nature since the fall4 ,wherefore1   
seeing  the acts and events1 which are  
the subjects of true history1 are not of
  that amplitude as to content the mind 
of man1 poesy is ready at hand to  feign
 acts more heroical4    #ad4 ,because   
true history reports the successes of   
business not  proportionable to the     
merit of virtues and vices1 poesy       
corrects it1 and  presents events and   
fortunes according to desert1 and       
according to the  law of ,providence3   
because true history1 through the       
frequent satiety  and similitude of     
things1 works a distaste and misprision 

in the mind of  man2 poesy cheereth and 
refresheth the soul1 chanting things    
rare and  various1 and full of          
vicissitudes4    #ae4 ,so as poesy      
serveth and conferreth to delectation1  
magnanimity and  morality2 and therefore
 it may seem deservedly to have some    
participation of divineness1 because it 
doth raise the mind1 and exalt  the     
spirit with high raptures1 proportioning
 the shew of things to the  desires of  
the mind1 and not submitting the mind to
 things as reason and  history do4 ,and 
by these allurements and congruities1   
whereby it  cherisheth the soul of man1 
joined also with concert of music1      
whereby  it may more sweetly insinuate  
itself2 it hath won such access1 that it
  hath been in estimation1 even in rude 
times1 among barbarous nations1  when   
our learning stood excluded4    #af4    
,but there is nothing which favours and 
falls in with this natural  greatness   
and dignity of human nature so much as  
religion1 which does  not only promise  

the entire refinement of the mind1 but  
the glorifying  of the body1 and the    
immortality of both4          ,custom a 
,second ,nature4    #a4 ,there is not a 
common saying which has a better turn of
 sense in it  than what we often hear in
 the mouths of the vulgar1 that ,custom 
is a  second ,nature4 ,it is indeed able
 to form the man anew1 and give him     
inclinations and capacities altogether  
different from those he was born  with4 
#b4 ,dr4 ,plot1 in his history of       
,staffordshire1 tells of an idiot1  that
 chancing to live within the sound of a 
clock1 and always amusing  himself with 
counting the hour of the day whenever   
the clock struck3 the  clock being      
spoiled by some accident1 the idiot     
continued to strike and  count the hour 
without the help of it1 in the same     
manner as he had done  when it was      
entire4    #c4 ,though ,i dare not vouch
 for the truth of this story1 it is very
  certain that custom has a mechanical  
effect upon the body1 at the same  time 

that it has a very extraordinary        
influence upon the mind4    #d4 ,i shall
 in this paper consider one very        
remarkable effect which  custom has upon
 human nature2 and which1 if rightly    
observed1 may lead  us into very useful 
rules of life4 ,what ,i shall here take 
notice of in  custom1 is its wonderful  
efficacy in making every thing pleasant 
to us4    #e4 ,a person who is addicted 
to play or gaming1 though he took but   
little  delight in it at first1 by      
degrees contracts so strong an          
inclination  towards it1 and gives      
himself up so entirely to it1 that it   
seems the  only end of his being4 ,the  
love of a retired or busy life will grow
 upon  a man insensibly1 as he is       
conversant in the one or the other1 till
 he  is utterly unqualified for         
relishing that to which he has been for 
some  time disused4    #f4 ,nay1 a man  
may smoke or drink1 or take snuff1 till 
he is unable to  pass away his time     
without it2 not to mention how our      

delight in any  particular study1 art1  
or science1 rises and improves in       
proportion to  the application which we 
bestow upon it4 ,thus what was at first 
an  exercise1 becomes at length an      
entertainment4 ,our employments are     
changed into diversions4 ,the mind grows
 fond of those actions it is  accustomed
 to1 and is drawn with reluctancy from  
those paths in which it  has been used  
to walk4    #g4 ,not only such actions  
as were at first indifferent to us1 but 
even  such as were painful1 will by     
custom and practice become pleasant4    
#h4 ,sir ,francis ,bacon observes in his
 natural philosophy1 that our  taste is 
never better pleased than with those    
things which at first  create a disgust 
in it4 ,he gives particular instances of
 claret1 coffee1  and other liquors2    
which the palate seldom approves upon   
the first  taste3 but when it has once  
got a relish of them1 generally retains 
it  for life4 ,the mind is constituted  
after the same manner1 and after  having

 habituated itself to any particular    
exercise or employment1 not  only loses 
its first aversion towards it1 but      
conceives a certain  fondness and       
affection for it4    #i4 ,i have heard  
one of the greatest genuises this age   
has produced1 who  had been trained up  
in all the polite studies of antiquity1 
assure me1  upon his being obliged to   
search into several rolls and records1  
that  notwithstanding such an employment
 was at first very dry and irksome to   
him1 he at last took an incredible      
pleasure in it1 and preferred it even   
to the reading of ,virgil or ,cicero4   
#aj4 ,the reader will observe that ,i   
have not here considered custom as it   
makes things easy1 but as it renders    
them delightful2 and though others  have
 often made the same reflection1 it is  
possible they may not have  drawn those 
uses from it1 with which ,i intend to   
fill the remaining part  of this paper4 
#aa4 ,if we consider attentively this   
property of human nature1 it may        

instruct us in very fine moralities4 ,in
 the first place1 ,i would have no  man 
discouraged with that kind of life or   
series of actions1 in which  the choice 
of others or his own necessities may    
have engaged him4 ,it may  perhaps be   
very disagreeable to him at first2 but  
use and application  will certainly     
render it not only less painful1 but    
pleasing and  satisfactory4    #ab4 ,in 
the second place1 ,i would recommend to 
every one the admirable  precept which  
,pythagoras is said to have given to his
 disciples1 and  which that philosopher 
must have drawn from the observation ,i 
have  enlarged upon3 ,optimum vit genus 
eligito nam consuctudo facict           
jucundissimum4 ,pitch upon that course  
of life which is the most  excellent1   
and custom will render it the most      
delightful4    #ac4 ,men1 whose         
circumstances will permit them to choose
 their own way of  life1 are inexcusable
 if they do not pursue that which their 
judgment  tells them is the most        

laudable4 ,the voice of reason is more  
to be  regarded than the bent of any    
present inclination1 since by the rule  
above-mentioned1 inclination will at    
length come over to reason1 though  we  
can never force reason to comply with   
inclination4    #ad4 ,in the third      
place1 this observation may teach the   
most sensual and  irreligious man to    
overlook those hardships and            
difficulties1 which are  apt to         
discourage him from the prosecution of a
 virtuous life4 ,the ,gods1  said       
,hesiod1 have placed labour before      
virtue2 the way to her is at  first     
rough and difficult1 but grows more     
smooth and easy1 the further  you       
advance in it4 ,the man who proceeds in 
it1 with steadiness and  resolution1    
will in a little time find that her ways
 are ways of  pleasantness1 and that all
 her paths are peace4    #ae4 ,to       
enforce this consideration1 we may      
further observe1 that the  practice of  
religion will not only be attended with 

that pleasure which  naturally          
accompanies those actions to which we   
are habituated1 but with  those         
supernumerary joys of heart1 that rise  
from the consciousness of  such a       
pleasure1 from the satisfaction of      
acting up to the dictates of  reason1   
and from the prospect of an happy       
immortality4    #af4 ,in the fourth     
place1 we may learn from this           
observation which we  have made on the  
mind of man1 to take particular care1   
when we are once  settled in a regular  
course of life1 how we too frequently   
indulge  ourselves in any of the most   
innocent diversions and entertainments1 
since the mind may insensibly fall off  
from the relish of virtuous  actions1   
and by degrees1 exchange that pleasure  
which it takes in the  performance of   
its duty1 for delight of a much more    
inferior and  unprofitable nature4      
#ag4 ,the last use which ,i shall make  
of this remarkable property in human    
nature1 of being delighted with those   

actions to which it is accustomed1  is  
to shew how absolutely necessary it is  
for us to gain habits of  virtue in this
 life1 if we would enjoy the pleasures  
of the next4    #ah4 ,the state of bliss
 we call heaven1 will not be capable of 
affecting  those minds1 which are not   
thus qualified for it3 we must in this  
world  gain a relish of truth and       
virtue1 if we would be able to taste    
that  knowledge and perfection which are
 to make us happy in the next4 ,the     
seeds of those spiritual joys and       
raptures1 which are to rise up and      
flourish in the soul to all eternity1   
must be planted in it1 during this  its 
present state of probation4 ,in short1  
heaven is not to be looked  upon only as
 the reward1 but as the natural effect  
of a religious life4    #ai4 ,on the    
other hand1 those evil spirits1 who by  
long custom1 have  contracted in the    
body1 habits of lust1 sensuality1 malice
 and revenge1  an aversion to every     
thing that is good1 just1 or laudable1  

are  naturally seasoned and prepared for
 pain and misery4 ,their torments have  
already taken root in them2 they cannot 
be happy when divested of the  body1    
unless we may suppose1 that ,providence 
will in a manner create  them anew1 and 
work a miracle in the rectification of  
their faculties4    #bj4 ,they may1     
indeed1 taste a kind of malignant       
pleasure in those  actions to which they
 are accustomed whilst in this life2 but
 when they  are removed from all those  
objects which are here apt to gratify   
them1  they will naturally become their 
own tormentors1 and cherish in          
themselves those painful habits of mind 
which are called1 in scripture  phrase1 
the worm which never dies4    #ba4 ,this
 notion of heaven and hell is so very   
conformable to the light  of nature1    
that it was discovered by several of the
 most exalted  heathens4 ,it has been   
finely improved by many eminent divines 
of the  last age1 as in particular by   
,archbishop ,tillotson and ,dr4         

,sherlock2  but there is none who has   
raised such noble speculations upon it  
as ,dr4  ,scott1 in the first book of   
his ,christian ,life1 which is one of   
the  finest and most rational schemes of
 divinity1 that is written in our       
tongue or any other4 ,that excellent    
author has shewn how every  particular  
custom and habit of virtue will1 in its 
own nature1 produce  the heaven1 or a   
state of happiness1 in him who shall    
hereafter practise  it3 as on the       
contrary1 how every custom or habit of  
vice will be the  natural hell of him in
 whom it subsists4          ,on         
,cleanliness4    ,,spectator1 ,no4 #fca4
    #a4 ,i had occasion to go a few     
miles out of town1 some days since1 in a
  stage-coach1 where ,i had for my      
fellow travellers1 a dirty beau1 and a  
pretty young ,quaker woman4 ,having no  
inclination to talk much at that  time1 
,i placed myself backward1 with a design
 to survey them1 and pick a  speculation
 out of my two companions4 ,their       

different figures were  suificient of   
themselves to draw my attention4    #b4 
,the gentleman was dressed in a suit1   
the ground whereof had been  black1 as  
,i perceived from some few spaces that  
had escaped the powder1  which was      
incorporated with the greatest part of  
his coat2 his periwig1  which cost no   
smull sum1 was after so slovenly a      
manner cast over his  shoulders1 that it
 seemed not to have been combed since   
the year #agab2  his linen1 which was   
not much concealed1 was daubed with     
plain ,spanish  from the chin to the    
lowest button1 and the diamond upon his 
finger  7which naturally dreaded the    
water7 put me in mind how it sparkled   
amidst the rubbish of the mine where it 
was first discovered4    #c4 ,on the    
other hand1 the pretty ,quaker appeared 
in all the elegance of  cleanliness4    
,not a speck was to be found on her4 ,a 
clear1 clean1 oval  face1 just edged    
about with little thin plaits of the    
purest cambrick1  received great        

advantages from the shade of her black  
hood3 as did the  whiteness of her arms 
from that sober-coloured stuff in which 
she had  clothed herself4 ,the plainness
 of her dress was very well suited to   
the  simplicity of her phrases1 all     
which put together1 though they could   
not  give me a great opinion of her     
religion1 they did of her innocence4    
#d4 ,this adventure occasioned my       
throwing together a few hints upon      
cleanliness1 which ,i shall consider as 
one of the half virtues1 as  ,aristotle 
calls them1 and shall recommend it under
 the three following  heads3 ,as it is a
 mark of politeness2 as it produceth    
love2 and as it  bears analogy to purity
 of mind4    #e4 ,first1 it is a mark of
 politeness4 ,it is universally agreed  
upon1  that no one1 unadorned with this 
virtue1 can go into company without     
giving a manifest offence4 ,the easier  
or higher any one's fortune is1  this   
duty rises proportionably4 ,the         
different nations of the world are  as  

much distinguished by their cleanliness1
 as by their arts and  sciences4 ,the   
more any country is civilized1 the more 
they consult this  part of politeness4  
,we need but compare our ideas of a     
female  ,hottentot with an ,english     
beauty1 to be2 satisfied with the truth 
of  what hath been advanced4    #f4 ,in 
the next place1 cleanliness may be said 
to be the foster-mother  of love4       
,beauty1 indeed1 most commonly produces 
that passion in the  mind1 but          
cleanliness preserves it4 ,an           
indifferent face and person1 kept  in   
perpetual neatness1 hath won many a     
heart from a pretty slattern4 ,age      
itself is not unamiable1 while it is    
preserved clean and unsullied3 like  a  
piece of metal constantly kept smooth   
and bright1 we look on it with  more    
pleasure than on a new vessel that is   
cankered with rust4    #g4 ,i might     
observe further1 that as cleanliness    
renders us agreeable to  others1 so it  
makes it easy to ourselves2 that it is  

an excellent  preservative of health2   
and that several vices1 destructive both
 to mind  and body1 are inconsistent    
with the habit of it4 ,but these        
reflections ,i  shall leave to the      
leisure of my readers1 and shall observe
 in the third  place1 that it bears a   
great analogy with purity of mind1 and  
naturally  inspires refined sentiments  
and passions4    #h4 ,we find1 from     
experience1 that through the prevalence 
of custom1 the  most vicious actions    
lose their horror1 by being made        
familiar to us4 ,on  the contrary1 those
 who live in the neighbourhood of good  
examples1 fly  from the first           
appearances of what is shocking4 ,it    
fares with us much  after the same      
manner as our ideas4 ,our senses1 which 
are the inlets to  all the images       
conveyed to the mind1 can only transmit 
the impression of  such things as       
usually surround them2 so that pure and 
unsullied  thoughts are naturally       
suggested to the mind1 by those objects 

that  perpetually encompass us1 when    
they are beautiful and elegant in their 
kind4    #i4 ,in the ,east1 where the   
warmth of the climates makes cleanliness
 more  immediately necessary than in    
colder countries1 it is made one part of
  their religion2 the ,jewish law 7and  
the ,mahometan1 which1 in somethings1   
copies after it7 is filled with         
bathings1 purifications1 and other rites
  of the like nature4 ,though there is  
the above named convenient reason to  be
 assigned for these ceremonies1 the     
chief intention1 undoubtedly1 was  to   
typify inward purity and cleanliness of 
heart by those outward  washings4       
#aj4 ,we read several injunctions of    
this kind in the book of ,deuteronomy1  
which confirms this truth1 and which are
 but ill accounted for by  saying1 as   
some do1 that they were only instituted 
for convenience in  the desert1 which   
otherways could not have been habitable1
 for so many  years4    #aa4 ,i shall   
conclude this essay with a story which  

,i have some where  read in an account  
of ,mahometan superstition4 ,a dervise  
of great  sanctity one morning had the  
misfortune1 as he took up a crystal cup1
  which was consecrated to the prophet1 
to let it fall upon the ground and  dash
 it in pieces4 ,his son coming in some  
time after1 he stretched out  his hand  
to bless him1 as his manner was every   
morning2 but the youth  going out       
stumbled over the threshold and broke   
his arm4 ,as the old man  wondered at   
those events1 a caravan passed by in its
 way from ,mecca4  ,the dervise         
approached it to beg a blessing2 but as 
he stroked one of  the holy camels1 he  
received a kick from the beast1 that    
sorely bruised  him4 ,his sorrow and    
amazement increased upon him1 till he   
recollected1  that1 through hurry and   
inadvertency1 he had that morning come  
abroad  without washing his hands4      
,the ,advantages of a good ,education4  
#a4 ,i consider a human soul without    
education like marble in the quarry1    

which shews none of its inherent        
beauties1 until the skill of the        
polisher fetches out the colours1 makes 
the surface shine1 and discovers  every 
ornamental cloud1 spot and vein1 that   
runs through the body of it4            
,education1 after the same manner1 when 
it works1 upon a noble mind1  draws out 
to view every latent virtue and         
perfection1 which1 without  such helps1 
are never able to make their appearance4
    #b4 ,if my reader will give me leave
 to change the allusion so soon upon    
him1 ,i shall make use of the same      
instance to illustrate the force of     
education1 which ,aristotle has brought 
to explain his doctrine of  substantial 
forms1 when he tells us that a statue   
lies hid in a block of  marble2 and that
 the art of the statuary only clears    
away the  superfluous matter1 and       
removes the rubbish4 ,the figure is in  
the stone1  the sculptor only finds it4 
,what sculpture is to a block of marble1
  education is to an human soul4    #c4 

,the philosopher1 the saint1 or the     
hero1 the wise1 the good1 or the  great 
man1 very often lie hid and concealed in
 a plebeian1 which a  proper education  
might have disinterred1 and have brought
 to light4 ,i am  therefore much        
delighted with reading the accounts of  
savage nations1  and with contemplating 
those virtues which are wild and        
uncultivated2 to  see courage exerting  
itself in fierceness1 resolution in     
obstinacy1  wisdom in cunning1 patience 
in sullenness and despair4    #d4 ,men's
 passions operate variously1 and appear 
in different kinds of  actions1         
according as they are more or less      
rectified or swayed by  reason4 ,when   
one hears of negroes1 who upon the death
 of their masters1  or upon changing    
their service1 hang themselves upon the 
next tree1 as  it frequently happens in 
our ,american plantations1 who can      
forbear  admiring their fidelity1 though
 it expresses itself in so dreadful a   
manner8    #e4 ,what might not that     

savage greatness of soul which appears  
in these  poor wretches on many         
occasions1 be raised to1 were it rightly
  cultivated8 ,and what colour of excuse
 can there be for the contempt with     
which we treat this part of our species8
 that we should not put them  upon the  
common foot of humanity2 that we should 
only set an  insignificant fine upon the
 man who murders them2 nay1 that we     
should1  as much as in us lies1 cut them
 off from the prospect of happiness in  
another world1 as well as in this1 and  
deny them that which we look upon  as   
the proper means for attaining it4      
#f4 ,it is therefore an unspeakable     
blessing to be born in those parts of   
the world where wisdom and knowledge    
flourish1 though it must be  confessed  
there are1 even in these parts1 several 
poor uninstructed  persons1 who are but 
little above the inhabitants of those   
nations of  which ,i have been here     
speaking2 as those who have had the     
advantages of  a more liberal education1

 rise above one another by several      
different  degrees of perfection4    #g4
 ,for1 to return to our statue in the   
block of marble1 we see it  sometimes   
only begun to be chipped1 sometimes     
sough hewn1 and but just  sketched into 
an human figure2 sometimes we see the   
man appearing  distinctly in all his    
limbs and features1 sometimes we find   
the figure  wrought up to a great       
elegancy1 but seldom meet with any to   
which the  hand of ,phidias or          
,prixiteles could not give several nice 
touches  and finishings4          ,the  
,disadvantages of a bad ,education4     
,,sir1    #a4 ,i was condemned by some  
disastrous influence to be an only son1 
born  to the apparent prospect of a     
large fortune1 and allotted to my       
parents  at that time of life when      
satiety of common diversions allows the 
mind  to indulge parental affection with
 great intenseness4 ,my birth was       
celebrated by the tenants with feasts   
and dances and bagpipes2                

congratulations were sent from every    
family within ten miles round2 and  my  
parents discovered in my first cries    
such tokens of future virtue and        
understanding1 that they declared       
themselves determined to devote the     
remaining part of life to my happiness  
and the increase of their estate4    #b4
 ,the abilities of my father and mother 
were not perceptibly unequal1  and      
education had given neither much        
advantage over the other4 ,they had     
both kept good company1 rattled in      
chariots1 glittered in play-houses1  and
 danced at court1 and were both expert  
in the games that were in  their times  
called in as auxiliaries against the    
intrusion of thought4    #c4 ,when there
 is such a parity between two persons   
associated for life1  the dejection     
which the husband1 if he be not         
completely stupid1 must  always suffer  
for want of superiority1 sinks him to   
submissiveness4 ,my  mamma therefore    
governed the family without control2 and

 except that my  father still retained  
some authority in the stables1 and now  
and then1  after a supernumery bottle1  
broke a looking-glass1 or china-dish1 to
  prove his sovereignty1 the whole      
course of the year was regulated by her 
direction2 the servants received from   
her all their orders1 and the  tenants  
were continued or dismissed at her      
discretion4    #d4 ,she therefore       
thought herself entitled to the         
superintendance of her  son's education2
 and when my father1 at the instigation 
of the parson1  faintly proposed that ,i
 should be sent to school1 very         
positively told  him1 that she would not
 suffer so fine a child to be ruined3   
that she  never knew any boys at a      
grammar-school that could come into a   
room  without blushing1 or set at the   
table without some awkward uneasiness2  
that they were always putting themselves
 into danger by boisterous  plays1 or   
vitiating their behaviour with mean     
company2 and that for her  part1 she    

would rather follow me to the grave than
 see me tear my  clothes1 and hang down 
my head1 and sneak about with dirty     
shoes and  blotted fingers1 my hair     
unpowdered1 and my hat uncocked4    #e4 
,my father1 who had no other end in his 
proposal than to appear wise  and manly1
 soon acquiesced1 since ,i was not to   
live by my learning2 for  indeed he had 
known very few students that had not    
some stiffness in  their manner4 ,they  
therefore agreed that a domestic tutor  
should be  procured1 and hired an honest
 gentleman of mean conversation and     
narrow  sentiments1 but who having      
passed the common forms of literary     
education1 they implicitly concluded    
qualified to teach all that was to  be  
learned from a scholar4 ,he thought     
himself sufficiently exalted by  being  
placed at the same table with his pupil1
 and had no other view  than to         
perpetuate his felicity by the utmost   
flexibility of submission  to all my    
mother's opinions and caprices4 ,he     

frequently took away my  book1 lest ,i  
should mope with too much application1  
charged me never to  write without      
turning up my ruffles1 and generally    
brushed my coat  before he dismissed me 
into the parlour4    #f4 ,he had no     
occasion to complain of too burthensome 
an employment2 for  my mother very      
judiciously considered that ,i was not  
likely to grow  politer in his company1 
and suffered me not to pass any more    
time in his  apartment1 than my lesson  
required4 ,when ,i was summoned to my   
task1 she  enjoined me not to get any of
 my tutor's ways1 who was seldom        
mentioned  before me but for practices  
to be avoided4 ,i was every moment      
admonished  not to lean on my chair1    
cross my legs1 or swing my hands like my
 tutor2  and once my mother very        
seriously deliberated upon his total    
dismission1  because ,i began1 said she1
 to learn his manner of sticking on my  
hat1  and had his bend in my shoulders1 
and his totter in my gait4    #g4 ,such1

 however1 was her care1 that ,i escaped 
all these depravities1  and when ,i was 
only twelve years old1 had rid myself of
 every appearance  of childish          
diffidence4 ,i was celebrated round the 
country for the  petulence of my        
remarks1 and the quickness of my        
replies2 and many a  scholar five years 
older than myself1 have ,i dashed into  
confusion by  the steadiness of my      
countenance1 silenced by my readiness of
 repartee1  and tortured with envy by   
the address with which ,i picked up a   
fan1  presented a snuff-box1 or received
 an empty tea-cup4    #h4 ,at fourteen  
,i was completely skilled in all the    
niceties of dress1  and ,i could not    
only enumerate all the variety of silks1
 and distinguish  the product of a      
,french loom1 but dart my eye through a 
numerous  company1 and observe every    
deviation from the reigning mode4 ,i was
  universally skilful in all the changes
 of expensive finery2 but as every  one1
 they say1 has something to which he is 

particularly born1 was  eminently known 
in ,brussels lace4    #i4 ,the next year
 saw me advanced to the trust and power 
of adjusting the  ceremonial of an      
assembly4 ,all received their partners  
from my hand1 and  to me every stranger 
applied for introduction4 ,my heart now 
disdained  the instructions of a tutor1 
who was rewarded with a small annuity   
for  life1 and left me qualified1 in my 
own opinion1 to govern myself4    #aj4  
,in a short time ,i came to ,london1 and
 as my father was well known  among the 
higher classes of life1 soon2 obtained  
admission to the most  splendid         
assemblies1 and most crowded            
card-tables4 ,here ,i found myself      
universally caressed and applauded1 the 
ladies praised the fancy of my  clothes1
 the beauty of my form1 and the softness
 of my voice2  endeavoured in every     
place to force themselves to my notice2 
and  incited1 by a thousand oblique     
solicitations1 my attendance at the     
play-house1 and my salutations in the   

park4 ,i was now happy to the  utmost   
extent of my conception2 ,i passed every
 morning in dress1 every  afternoon in  
visits1 and every night in some select  
assemblies1 where  neither care nor     
knowledge were suffered to molest us4   
#aa4 ,after a few years1 however1 these 
delights became familiar1 and ,i  had   
leisure to look round me with more      
attention4 ,i then found that my        
flatterers had very little power to     
relieve the languor of satiety1 or      
recreate weariness by varied amusement2 
and therefore endeavoured to  enlarge   
the sphere of my pleasures1 and to try  
what satisfaction might  be found in the
 society of men4 ,i will not deny the   
mortification with  which ,i perceived  
that every man whose name ,i had heard  
mentioned with  respect1 received me    
with a kind of tenderness nearly        
bordering on  compassion2 and that those
 whose reputation was not well          
established1  thought it necessary to   
justify their understandings1 by        

treating me  with contempt4 ,one of     
these witlings elevated his crest by    
asking me in  a full coffee-house the   
price of patches2 and another whispered1
 that he  wondered ,miss ,frisk did not 
keep me that afternoon to watch her     
squirrel4    #ab4 ,when ,i found myself 
thus hunted from all masculine          
conversation by  those who were         
themselves barely admitted1 ,i returned 
to the ladies1 and  resolved to dedicate
 my life to their service and their     
pleasure4 ,but ,i  find that ,i have now
 lost my charms4 ,of those with whom ,i 
entered the  gay world1 some are        
married1 some have retired1 and some    
have so much  changed their opinion1    
that they scarcely pay any regard to my 
civilities1 if there is any other man in
 the place4 ,the new flight of  beauties
 to whom ,i have made my addresses1     
suffer me to pay the treat1  and then   
titter with boys3 ,so that ,i now find  
myself welcome only to a  few grave     
ladies1 who1 unacquainted with all that 

gives either use or  dignity to life1   
are content to pass their hours between 
their bed and  their cards1 without     
esteem from the old1 or reverence from  
the young4    #ac4 ,i cannot but think1 
,mr4 ,rambler1 that ,i have reason to   
complain2  for surely the females ought 
to pay some regard to the age of him    
whose  youth was passed in endeavouring 
to please them4 ,they that encourage    
folly in the boy1 have no right to      
punish it in the man4 ,yet ,i find1     
that though they lavish their first     
fondness upon pertness and gaiety1  they
 soon transfer their regard to other    
qualities1 and ungratefully  abandon    
their adorers to dream out their last   
years in stupidity and  contempt4    ,i 
am1 c4 ,florentulus4    ,,rambler4      
,learning a necessary ,accomplishment in
 a ,woman of ,quality or ,fortune4      
,,guardian1 ,no4 #aee4    #a4 ,i have   
often wondered that learning is not     
thought a proper  ingredient in the     
education of a woman of quality or      

fortune4 ,since they  have the same     
improveable minds as the male part of   
the species1 why  should they not be    
cultivated1 by the same method8 ,why    
should reason be  left to itself in one 
of the sexes1 and be disciplined with so
 much care  to the other8    #b4 ,there 
are some reasons why learning seems more
 adapted to the female  world than to   
the male4 ,as in the first place1       
because they have more  spare time upon 
their hands1 and lead a more sedentary  
life4 ,their  employments are of a      
domestic nature1 and not like those of  
the other  sex1 which are often         
inconsistent with study and             
contemplation4    #c4 ,the excellent    
lady1 the lady ,lizard1 in the space of 
one summer  furnished a gallery with    
chairs and couches of her own and her   
daughters  working2 and at the same time
 heard all ,dr4 ,tillotson's sermons    
twice  over4 ,it is always the custom   
for one of the young ladies to read1    
while  the others are at work2 so that  

the learning of the family is not at all
  prejudicial to its manufactures4      
#d4 ,i was mightily pleased the other   
day to find them all busy in  preserving
 several fruits of the season1 with the 
,sparkler in the midst  of them1 reading
 over ,the plurality of ,worlds4 ,it was
 very  entertaining to me to see them   
dividing their speculations between     
jellies and stars1 and making a sudden  
transition from the sun to an  apricot1 
or from the ,copernicum system to the   
figure of a cheese cake4    #e4 ,a      
second reason why women should apply    
themselves to useful knowledge  rather  
than men1 is because they have that     
natural gift of speech in  greater      
perfection4 ,since they have so         
excellent a talent1 such a ,copia       
,verborum1 or plenty of words1 it is    
pity they should not put it to some     
use4 ,if the female tongue will be in   
motion1 why should it not be set to  go 
right8 ,could they discourse about the  
spots in the sun1 it might  divert them 

from publishing the faults of their     
neighbours3 could they  talk of the     
different aspects and conjunctions of   
the planets1 they need  not be at the   
pains to comment upon oglings and       
clandestine marriages4  ,in short1 were 
they furnished with matters of fact1 out
 of arts and  sciences1 it would now and
 then be of great ease to their         
invention4    #f4 ,there is another     
reason why those1 especially who are    
women of  quality1 should apply         
themselves to letters1 namely1 because  
their  husbands are generally strangers 
to them4 ,it is great pity there should 
by no knowledge in a family4 ,for my own
 part1 ,i am concerned when ,i go  into 
a great house1 where perhaps there is   
not a single person that can  spell1    
unless it be by chance the butler1 or   
one of the foot-men4 ,what a  figure is 
the young heir likely to make1 who is a 
dunce both by father  and mother's side8
    #g4 ,if we look into the histories  
of famous women1 we find many eminent   

philosophers of this sex4 ,nay1 we find 
that several females have  distinguished
 themselves in those sects of philosophy
 which seem almost  repugnant to their  
natures4 ,there have been famous female 
,pythagorians1 notwithstanding most of  
that philosophy consisted in  keeping a 
secret1 and that the disciple was to    
hold her tongue five  years together4   
#h4 ,learning and knowledge are         
perfections in us1 not as we are men1   
but  as we are reasonable creatures1 in 
which order of beings the female  world 
is upon the same level with the male4   
,we ought to consider in this           
particular1 not what is the sex1 but    
what is the species to which they       
belong4 ,at least ,i believe every one  
will allow me1 that a female            
philosopher is not so absurd a          
character1 and so opposite to the sex1  
as  a female gamester2 and that it is   
more irrational for a woman to pass     
away half a dozen hours at cards or     
dice1 than in getting up stores of      

useful learning4    #i4 ,this1          
therefore1 is another reason why ,i     
would recommend the studies  of         
knowledge to the female world1 that they
 may not be at a loss how to  employ    
those hours that lie heavy upon their   
hands4    #aj4 ,i might also add this   
motive to my fair readers1 that several 
of  their sex1 who have improved their  
minds by books and literature1 have     
raised themselves to the highest posts  
of honour and fortune4 ,a  neighbouring 
nation may at this time furnish us with 
a very remarkable  instance of this     
kind3 but ,i shall conclude this head   
with the history  of ,athenais1 which is
 a very signal example to my present    
purpose4    #aa4 ,the ,emperor          
,theodosius being about the age of      
one-and-twenty1 and  designing to take a
 wife1 desired his sister ,pulcheria and
 his friend  ,paulinus to search his    
whole empire for a woman of the most    
exquisite  beauty and highest           
accomplishments4 ,in the midst of this  

search1  ,athenais1 a ,grecian virgin1  
accidentally offered herself4 ,her      
father1  who was an eminent philosopher 
of ,athens1 and had bred her up in all  
the  learning of that place1 at his     
death left her but a very small portion1
  in which also she suffered great      
hardships from the injustice of her two 
brothers4    #ab4 ,this forced her upon 
a journey to ,constantinople1 where she 
had a  relation who represented her case
 to ,pulcheria1 in order to obtain some 
redress from the emperor4 ,by this means
 that religious princess became         
acquainted with ,athenais2 whom she     
found the most beautiful woman of her   
age1 and educated under a long course of
 philosophy1 in the strictest  virtue   
and most unspotted innocence4    #ac4   
,pulcheria was charmed with her         
conversation1 and immediately made  her 
report to the emperor her brother       
,theodosius4 ,the character she gave    
made such an impression on him1 that he 
desired his sister to bring her  away   

immediately to the lodgings of his      
friend ,paulinus1 where he found  her   
beauty and her conversation beyond the  
highest idea he had framed of  them4    
#ad4 ,his friend ,paulinus converted her
 to christianity1 and gave her the  name
 of ,eudosia2 after which the emperor   
publicly espoused her1 and  enjoyed all 
the happiness in his marriage which he  
promised himself from  such a virtuous  
and learned bride4 ,she not only forgave
 the injuries  which her two brothers   
had done her1 but raised them to great  
honours2  and by several works of       
learning1 as well as by an exemplary    
life1 made  herself so dear to the whole
 empire1 that she had many statues      
erected  to her memory1 and is          
celebrated by the fathers of the church 
as an  ornament of her sex4          ,on
 the ,absurdity of ,omens4              
,,spectator4    #a4 ,going yesterday to 
dine with an old acquaintance1 ,i had   
the  misfortune to find the whole family
 very much dejected4 ,upon asking him   

the occasion of it1 he told me that his 
wife had dreamed a very strange  dream  
the night before1 which they were afraid
 portended some mischief  to themselves 
or to their children4 ,at her coming    
into the room1 ,i  observed a settled   
melancholy in her countenance1 which ,i 
should have  been troubled for1 had ,i  
not heard from whence it proceeded4     
#b4 ,we were no sooner sat down1 but1   
after having looked upon me a little    
while1 ',my dear1' says she1 turning to 
her husband1 'you may now see the       
stranger that was in the candle last    
night4' ,soon after this1 as they  began
 to talk of family affairs1 a little boy
 at the lower end of the  table told    
her1 that he was to go into joining-hand
 on  ,thursday--',thursday6' says she1  
'no1 child1 if it please ,god1 you shall
  not begin upon ,childermas day2 tell  
your writing-master that ,friday will   
be soon enough4'    #c4 ,i was          
reflecting with myself on the oddness of
 her fancy1 and  wondering that any body

 would establish it as a rule to lose a 
day in  every week4 ,in the midst of    
these my musings1 she desired me to     
reach  her a little salt upon the point 
of my knife1 which ,i did in such a     
trepidation and hurry of obedience1 that
 ,i let it drop by the way2 at  which   
she immediately startled1 and said it   
fell towards her4 ,upon which  ,i looked
 very blank2 and1 observing the concern 
of the whole table1  began to consider  
myself1 with some confusion1 as a person
 that had  brought a disaster upon the  
family4    #d4 ,the lady1 however1      
recovering herself after a little space1
 said to  her husband with a sigh1 ',my 
dear1 misfortunes never come single4'   
,my  friend1 ,i found1 acted but an     
under-part at his table1 and being a man
  of more good-nature than              
understanding1 thinks himself obliged to
 fall  in with all the passions and     
humours of his yoke-fellow3 ',do you    
remember1 child1' says she1 'that the   
pigeon-house fell the very  afternoon   

that our careless wench spilt the salt  
upon the table8' ',yes1'  says he1 'my  
dear1 and the next post brought us an   
account of the battle  of ,almanza4'    
#e4 ,the reader may guess at the figure 
,i made1 after having done all this     
mischief4 ,i dispatched my dinner as    
soon as ,i could1 with my usual         
taciturnity2 when1 to my utter          
confusion1 the lady seeing me quitting  
my  knife and fork1 and laying across   
one another upon my plate1 desired me   
that ,i would humour her so far as to   
take them out of that figure1 and  place
 them side by side4    #f4 ,what the    
absurdity was which ,i had committed ,i 
did not know1 but ,i  suppose there was 
some traditionary superstition in it2   
and therefore1  in obedience to the lady
 of the house1 ,i disposed of my knife  
and fork  in two parallel lines1 which  
is a figure ,i shall always lay them in 
for  the future1 though ,i do not know  
any reason for it4    #g4 ,it is not    
difficult to a man to see that a person 

has conceived an  aversion to him4 ,for 
my own part1 ,i quickly found1 by the   
lady's looks1  that she regarded me as a
 very odd kind of fellow1 with an       
unfortunate  aspect2 for which reason ,i
 took my leave immediately after dinner1
 and  withdrew to my own lodgings4      
#h4 ,upon my return home1 ,i fell into a
 profound contemplation on the  evils   
that attend these superstitious follies 
of mankind3 how they  subject us to     
imaginary afflictions and additional    
sorrows that do not  properly come      
within our lot4 ,as if the natural      
calamities of life were  not sufficient 
for it1 we turn the most indifferent    
circumstances into  misfortunes1 and    
suffer as much from trifling accidents1 
as from real  evils4    #i4 ,i have     
known the shooting of a star spoil a    
night's rest2 and have  seen a man in   
love grow pale and lose his appetite1   
upon the plucking of  a merry-thought4  
,a screech owl at midnight has alarmed a
 family more  than a band of robbers2   

nay1 the voice of a cricket hath struck 
more  terror than the roaring of a lion4
    #aj4 ,there is nothing so           
inconsiderable1 which may not appear    
dreadful to  an imagination that is     
filled with omens and prognostics4 ,a   
rusty nail1  or crooked pin1 shoot up   
into prodigies4    #aa4 ,i remember ,i  
was once in a mixt assembly1 that was   
full of noise and  mirth1 when on a     
sudden an old woman unluckily observed  
there were  thirteen of us in company4  
,this remark struck a panic terror into 
several who were present1 insomuch that 
one or two of the ladies were  going to 
leave the room2 but a friend of mine    
taking notice that one of  our female   
companions was big with child1 affirmed 
there were fourteen  in the room1 and   
that1 instead of portending one of the  
company should  die1 it plainly foretold
 one of them should be born4 ,had not my
 friend  found out this expedient to    
break the omen1 ,i question not but half
 the  women in the company would have   

fallen sick that very night4    #ab4 ,an
 old maid1 that is troubled with the    
vapours1 produces infinite  disturbances
 of this kind among her friends and     
neighbours4 ,i know a  maiden aunt1 of a
 great family1 who is one of these      
antiquated ,sibyls1  that forebodes and 
prophesies from one end of the year to  
the other4 ,she  is always seeing       
apparitions1 and hearing dead-watches2  
and was the  other day almost frightened
 out of her wits by the great house-dog1
 that  howled in the stable at a time   
when she lay ill of the tooth-ache4     
#ac4 ,such an extravagant cast of mind  
engages multitudes of people not  only  
in impertinent terrors1 but in          
supernumerary duties of life2 and       
arises from that fear and ignorance     
which are natural to the soul of  man4  
#ad4 ,the horror with which we entertain
 the thoughts of death 7or indeed  of   
any future evil7 and the uncertainty of 
its approach1 fill a  melancholy mind   
with innumerable apprehensions and      

suspicions1 and  consequently dispose it
 to the observation of such groundless  
prodigies  and predictions4 ,for as it  
is the chief concern of wise men1 to    
retrench  the evils of life by the      
reasonings of philosophy2 it is the     
employment  of fools to multiply them by
 the sentiments of superstition4    #ae4
 ,for my own part1 ,i should be very    
much troubled were ,i endowed with  this
 divining quality1 though it should     
inform me truly of every thing  that can
 befal me4 ,i would not anticipate the  
relish of any happiness1  nor feel the  
weight of any misery1 before it actually
 arrives4    #af4 ,i know but one way of
 fortifying my soul against these gloomy
  presages and terrors of mind2 and that
 is1 by securing to myself the          
friendship and protection of that       
,being1 who disposes of events and      
governs futurity4 ,he sees1 at one view1
 the whole thread of my  existence1 not 
only that part of it which ,i have      
already passed through1  but that which 

runs forward into all the depths of     
eternity4    #ag4 ,when ,i lay me down  
to sleep1 ,i recommend myself to his    
care2 when ,i  awake1 ,i give myself up 
to his direction4 ,amidst all the evils 
that  threaten me1 ,i will look up to   
him for help1 and question not but he   
will either avert them1 or turn them to 
my advantage4 ,though ,i know  neither  
the time nor the manner of the death ,i 
am to die1 ,i am not at  all solicitous 
about it2 because ,i am sure that he    
knows them both1 and  that he will not  
fail to comfort and support me under    
them4          ,a good ,conscience the  
best ,security against ,calumny and     
,reproach4    ,,guardian1 ,no4 #ace4    
#a4 ,a good conscience is to the soul   
what health is to the body2 it          
preserves a constant ease and serenity  
within us1 and move than  countervails  
all the calamities and afflictions which
 can possibly befal  us4 ,i know nothing
 so hard for a generous mind to get over
 as calumny  and reproach1 and cannot   

find any method of quieting the soul    
under  them1 besides this single one1 of
 our being conscious to ourselves that  
we do not deserve them4    #b4 ,i have  
been always mightily pleased with that  
passage in ,don  ,quixotte1 where the   
fantastical knight is represented as    
loading a  gentleman of good sense with 
praises and eulogiums4 ,upon which the  
gentleman makes this reflection to      
himself3 how grateful is praise to      
human nature6    #c4 ,i cannot forbear  
being secretly pleased with the         
commendations ,i  receive1 though1 ,i am
 sensible1 it is a madman who bestows   
them on me4  ,in the same manner1 though
 we are often sure that the censures    
which are  passed upon us1 are uttered  
by those who know nothing of us1 and    
have  neither means nor abilities to    
form a right judgment of us1 we cannot  
forbear being grieved at what they say4 
#d4 ,in order to heal this infirmity1   
which is so natural to the best and     
wisest of men1 ,i have taken a          

particular pleasure in observing the    
conduct of the old philosophers1 how    
they bore themselves up against the     
malice and detraction of their enemies4 
#e4 ,the way to silence calumny1 says   
,bias1 is to be always exercised in     
such things as are praise-worthy4       
,socrates1 after having received        
sentence1 told his friends that he had  
always accustomed himself to  regard    
truth and not censure1 and that he was  
not troubled at his  condemnation1      
because he knew himself free from guilt4
 ,it was in the  same spirit that he    
heard the accusations of his two great  
adversaries1  who had uttered against   
him the most virulent reproaches4    #f4
 ,anytus and ,melitus1 says he1 may     
procure sentence against me1 but  they  
cannot hurt me4 ,this divine philosopher
 was so well fortified in  his own      
innocence1 that he neglected all the    
impotence of evil tongues  which were   
engaged in his destruction4 ,this was   
properly the support of  a good         

conscience1 that contradicted the       
reports which had been raised  against  
him1 and cleared him to himself4    #g4 
,others of the philosophers rather chose
 to retort the injury of a  smart reply1
 than thus to disarm it with respect to 
themselves4 ,they  shew that it stung   
them1 though at the same time they had  
the address to  make their aggressors   
suffer with them4 ,of this kind is      
,aristotle's  reply to one who pursued  
him with long and bitter invectives4    
,you1 says  he1 who are used to suffer  
reproaches1 utter them with delight2 ,i 
who  have not been used to utter them1  
take no pleasure in hearing them4    #h4
 ,diogenes was still more severe on one 
who spoke ill of him3 nobody  will      
believe you when you speak ill of me1   
any more than they would  believe me    
when ,i speak well of you4    ,in these 
and many other instances ,i could       
produce1 the bitterness of the  answer  
sufficiently testifies the uneasiness of
 mind the person was  under who made it4

    #i4 ,i would rather advise my       
reader1 if he has not in this case the  
secret consolation1 that he deserves no 
such reproaches as are cast upon  him1  
to follow the advice of ,epictetus3 ,if 
any one speaks ill of thee1  consider   
whether he has truth on his side2 and if
 so1 reform thyself  that his censures  
may not affect thee4    #aj4 ,when      
,anaximander was told that the very boys
 laughed at his singing3  ,ay1 says he1 
then ,i must learn to sing better4 ,but 
of all the sayings of  philosophers     
which ,i have gathered together for my  
own use on this  occasion1 there are    
none which carry in them more candour   
and good sense  than the two following  
ones of ,plato4    #aa4 ,being told that
 he had many enemies who spoke ill of   
him2 it is no  matter1 said he1 ,i will 
live so that none shall believe them4   
,hearing at  another time1 that an      
intimate friend of his had spoken       
detractingly of  him1 ,i am sure he     
would not do it1 says he1 if he had not 

some reason  for it4    #ab4 ,this is   
the surest as well as the noblest way of
 drawing the sting  out of a reproach1  
and a true method of preparing a man for
 that great  and only relief against the
 pains of calumny1 'a good conscience4' 
#ac4 ,i designed in this essay2 to shew1
 that there is no happiness  wanting to 
him who is possessd of this excellent   
frame of mind1 and that  no one can be  
miserable who is in the enjoyment of it2
 but ,i find this  subject so well      
treated in one of ,dr4 ,soulh's sermons1
 that ,i shall fill  this ,saturday's   
paper with a passage of it1 which cannot
 but make the  man's heart burn within  
him1 who reads it with due attention4   
#ad4 ,that admirable author1 having     
shewn the virtue of a good conscience1  
in supporting a man under the greatest  
trials and difficulties of life1        
concludes with representing its force   
and efficacy in the hour of death4      
#ae4 ,the third and last instance1 in   
which above all others this  confidence 

towards ,god does most eminently shew   
and exert itself1 is at  the time of    
death2 which surely gives the grand     
opportunity of trying  both the strength
 and worth of every principle4    #af4  
,when a man shall be just about to quit 
the stage of this world1 to  put off his
 mortality1 and to deliver up his last  
accounts to ,god2 at  which sad time his
 memory shall serve him for little else1
 but to  terrify him with a frightful   
review of his past life1 and his former 
extravagancies stripped of all their    
pleasure1 but retaining their  guilt2   
what is it then that can promise him a  
fair passage into the  other world1 or a
 comfortable appearance before his      
dreadful ,judge when  he is there8      
#ag4 ,not all the friends and interests1
 all the riches and honours under       
heaven can speak so much as a word for  
him1 or one word of comfort to  him in  
that condition2 they may possibly       
reproach1 but they cannot  relieve him4 
#ah4 ,no1 at this disconsolate time1    

when the busy temper shall be more  than
 usually apt to vex and trouble him1 and
 the pains of a dying body  to hinder   
and discompose him1 and the settlement  
of worldly affairs to  disturb and      
confound him2 and in a word1 all things 
conspire to make his  sick-bed grievous 
and uneasy3 nothing can then stand up   
against all  these ruins1 and speak life
 in the midst of death1 but a clear     
conscience4    #ai4 ,and the testimony  
of that shall make the comforts of      
heaven descend  upon his weary head1    
like a refreshing dew1 or shower upon a 
parched  ground4 ,it shall give him some
 lively earnests1 and secret            
anticipations  of his approaching joy4  
,it shall bid his1 soul to go out of the
 body  undauntedly1 and lift up his head
 with confidence before saints and      
angels4 ,surely the comfort1 which it   
conveys at this season1 is  something   
bigger than the capacities of mortality1
 mighty and  unspeakable1 and not to be 
understood till it comes to be felt4    

#bj4 ,and now who would not quit all the
 pleasures1 and trash1 and  trifles1    
which are apt to captivate the heart of 
man1 and pursue the  great rigours of   
piety1 and austerities of a good life1  
to purchase to  himself such a          
conscience1 as at the hour of death1    
when all the  friendship in the world   
shall bid him adieu1 and the whole      
creation  turns its back upon him1 shall
 dismiss the soul and close his eyes    
with  that blessed sentence1 ',well done
 thou good and faithful servant1 enter  
thou into the joy of thy ,lord4'        
,on ,contentment4      ,,spectator1 ,no4
 #egd4    #a4 ,i was once engaged in    
discourse with a ,rosicrucian about the 
great  secret4 ,as this kind of men 7,i 
mean those of them who are not professed
  cheats7 are over-run with enthusiasm  
and philosophy1 it was very amusing  to 
hear this religious adept descanting on 
his pretended discovery4 ,he  talked of 
the secret as of a spirit which lived   
within an emerald1 and  converted every 

thing that was near it to the highest   
perfection it is  capable of4    #b4 ,it
 gives a lustre1 says he1 to the sun1   
and water to the diamond4 ,it           
irradiates every metal1 and enriches    
lead with all the properties of  gold4  
,it heightens smoke into flame1 flame   
into light1 and light into  glory4 ,he  
further added1 that a single ray of it  
dissipates pain1 and  care1 and         
melancholy1 from the person on whom it  
falls4 ,in short1 says  he1 its presence
 naturally changes every place into a   
kind of heaven4    #c4 ,after he had    
gone on for some time in this           
unintelligible cant1 ,i  found that he  
jumbled natural and moral ideas together
 in the same  discourse1 and that his   
great secret was nothing else but       
content4    #d4 ,this virtue does indeed
 produce1 in some measure1 all those    
effects  which the alchymist usually    
ascribes to what he calls the           
philosopher's  stone2 and if it does not
 bring riches1 it does the same thing1  

by  banishing the desire of them4 ,if it
 cannot remove the disquietudes  arising
 out of a man's mind1 body or fortune1  
it makes him easy under  them4 ,it has  
indeed a kindly influence on the soul of
 man1 in respect of  every thing to whom
 he stands related4 ,it extinguishes all
 murmur1  repining and ingratitude      
towards that ,being who has allotted him
 his  part to act in this world4 ,it    
destroys all inordinate ambition1 and   
every tendency to corruption1 with      
regard to the community wherein he is   
placed4 ,it gives sweetness to his      
conversation1 and a perpetual serenity  
to all his thoughts4    #e4 ,among the  
many methods which might be made use of 
for the acquiring  of this virtue1 ,i   
shall only mention the two following3   
,first of all1 a  man should always     
consider how much more unhappy he might 
be than he  really is4    #f4 ,first of 
all1 a man should always consider how   
much more he has than  he wants4 ,i am  
wonderfully pleased with the reply which

 ,aristippus made  to one who condoled  
him upon the loss of a farm3 ,why1 said 
he1 ,i have  three farms still1 and you 
have but one2 so that ,i ought rather to
 be  afflicted for you than you for me4 
,on the contrary1 foolish men are more  
apt to consider what they have lost than
 what they possess2 and to fix  their   
eyes upon those who are richer than     
themselves1 rather than on  those who   
are under greater difficulties4    #g4  
,all the real pleasures and conveniences
 of life lie in a narrow  compass2 but  
it is the humour of mankind1 to be      
always looking forward1  and straining  
after one who has got the start of them 
in wealth and  honour4 ,for this reason1
 as there are none can be properly      
called rich1  who have not more than    
they want2 there are few rich men in any
 of the  politer nations but among the  
middle sort of people1 who keep their   
wishes within their fortunes1 and have  
more wealth than they know how to       
enjoy4    #h4 ,persons in a higher rank 

live in a kind of splendid poverty2 and 
are  perpetually wanting1 because1      
instead of acquiescing in the solid     
pleasures of life1 they endeavour to    
outvie one another in shadows and       
appearances4 ,men of sense have at all  
times beheld with a great deal of  mirth
 this silly game that is playing over   
their heads1 and by  contracting their  
desires enjoy all that secret           
satisfaction which  others are always in
 quest of4    #i4 ,the truth is1 this   
ridiculous chase after imaginary        
pleasures cannot  be sufficiently       
exposed1 as it is the great source of   
those evils which  generally undo a     
nation4 ,let a man's estate be what it  
will1 he is a  poor man if he does not  
live within it1 and naturally sets      
himself to  sale to any one that can    
give him his price4    #aj4 ,when       
,pitticus1 after the death of his       
brother1 who had left him a  good       
estate1 was offered a greater sum of    
money by the king of ,lydia1 he  thanked

 him for his kindness1 but told him he  
had already more by half  than he knew  
what to do with4 ,in short1 content is  
equivalent to wealth1  and luxury to    
poverty2 or1 to give the thought a more 
agreeable turn1  ',content is natural   
wealth1' says ,socrates2 to which ,i    
shall add1  ',luxury is artificial      
poverty4'    #aa4 ,i shall therefore    
recommend to the consideration of those 
who are  always aiming after superfluous
 and imaginary enjoyments1 and will not 
be at the trouble of contracting their  
desires1 an excellent saying of  ,bion  
the philosopher2 namely1 ',that no man  
has so much care as he who  endeavours  
after the most happiness4'    #ab4 ,in  
the second place1 every one ought to    
reflect how much more  unhappy he might 
be than he really is4 ,the former       
consideration took in  all those who are
 sufficiently provided with the means to
 make  themselves easy2 this regards    
such as actually lie under some pressure
  or misfortune4    #ac4 ,these may     

receive a great alleviation from such a 
comparison as the  unhappy person may   
make between himself and others1 or     
between the  misfortunes which he       
suffers1 and greater misfortunes which  
might have  befallen him4    #ad4 ,i    
like the story of the honest ,dutchman1 
who upon breaking his leg  by a fall    
from the main-mast1 told the            
standers-by1 it was a great mercy  that 
it was not his neck4 ,to which1 since ,i
 am got into quotations1 give  me leave 
to add the saying of an old philosopher1
 who1 after having  invited some of his 
friends to dine with him1 was ruffled by
 his wife  that came into the room in a 
passion and threw down the table that   
stood  before them2 ',every one1 says   
he1 has his calamity1 and he is a happy 
man that has no greater than this4'     
#ae4 ,we find an instance to the same   
purpose in the life of ,doctor          
,hammond1 written by ,bishop ,fell4 ,as 
this good man was troubled with a       
complication of distempers1 when he had 

the gout upon him1 he used to  thank    
,god that it was not the stone2 and when
 he had the stone1 that he  had not both
 these distempers on him at the same    
time4    #af4 ,i cannot conclude this   
essay without observing1 that there was 
never  any system besides that of       
christianity1 which could effectually   
produce  in the mind of man the virtue  
,i have been hitherto speaking of4 ,in  
order  to make us content with our      
present condition1 many of the present  
philosophers tell us1 that our          
discontent only hurts ourselves1 without
  being able to make an alteration in   
our circumstances2 others1 that         
whatever evil befals us1 is derived to  
us by a fatal necessity1 to which  the  
gods themselves are subject2 while      
others very gravely tell the man  who is
 miserable1 that it is necessary he     
should be so to keep up the  harmony of 
the universe1 and that the scheme of    
,providence would be  troubled and      
perverted were he otherwise4    #ag4    

,these1 and the like considerations1    
rather silence than satisfy a  man4     
,they may shew him that his discontent  
is unreasonable2 but are by  no means   
sufficient to relieve it4 ,they rather  
give despair than  consolation4 ,in a   
word1 a man might reply to one of these 
comforters1 as  ,augustus did to his    
friend who advised him not to grieve for
 the death  of a person whom he loved1  
because his grief could not fetch him   
again3  ',it is for that very reason1   
said the emperor1 that ,i grieve4'      
#ah4 ,on the contrary1 religion bears a 
more tender regard to human  nature4 ,it
 prescribes to a very miserable man the 
means of bettering his  condition2 nay1 
it shews him that the bearing of his    
afflictions as he  ought to do1 will    
naturally end in the removal of them3   
,it makes him  easy here1 because it can
 make him happy hereafter4    #ai4 ,upon
 the whole1 a contented mind is the     
greatest blessing a man can  enjoy in   
this world2 and if in the present life  

his happiness arises  from the subduing 
his desires1 it will arise in the next  
from the  gratification of them4        
,human ,miseries chiefly imaginary4     
#a4 ,it is a celebrated thought of      
,socrates1 that if all the misfortunes  
of mankind were cast into a public      
stock1 in order to be equally           
distributed among the whole species1    
those who now think themselves the  must
 unhappy1 would prefer the share they   
are already possessed of1  before that  
which would fall to them by such a      
division4 ,horace has  carried this     
thought a great deal further2 who says1 
that the hardships  or misfortunes we   
lie under1 are more easy to us than     
those of any other  person would be1 in 
case we should change conditions with   
him4    #b4 ,as ,i was ruminating-on    
these two remarks1 and seated in my     
elbow  chair1 ,i insensibly fell asleep2
 when1 on a sudden1 methought there was 
a proclamation made by ,jupiter1 that1  
every mortal should bring in his  griefs

 and calamities1 and throw them together
 in a heap4 ,there was a  large plain   
appointed for this purpose4 ,i took my  
stand in the centre of  it1 and saw1    
with a great deal of pleasure1 the whole
 human species  marching-one after      
another1 and throwing down their several
 loads1 which  immediately grew up into 
a prodigious mountain that seemed to    
rise above  the clouds4    #c4 ,there   
was a certain lady1 of a thin airy      
shape1 who was very active  in this     
solemnity4 ,she carried a magnifying    
glass in one of her hands1  and was     
cloathed in a loose flowing robe1       
embroidered with several  figures of    
fiends and spectres1 that discovered    
themselves in a thousand  chimerical    
shapes1 as her garments hovered in the  
wind2 there was  something wild1 and    
districted in her looks4    #d4 ,her    
name ,fancy4 ,she led up every mortal to
 the appointed place1  after having1    
very officiously assisted him in making 
up his pack1 and  laying it upon his    

shoulders4 ,my heart melted within me to
 see my  fellow-creatures groaning under
 their respective burthens1 and to      
consider that prodigious bulk of human  
calamities which lay before me4    #e4  
,there were1 however1 several persons   
who gave me great diversion upon  this  
occasion4 ,i observed one bringing in a 
fardel very carefully  concealed under  
an old embroidered cloak1 which1 upon   
his throwing it  into the heap1 ,i      
discovered to be poverty4 ,another1     
after a great deal  of puffing1 threw   
down his luggage1 which1 upon examining1
 ,i found to be  his wife4    #f4 ,there
 were multitudes of lovers saddled with 
very whimsical burthens1  composed of   
darts and flames2 but what was very odd1
 though they sighed  as if their hearts 
would break under these bundles of      
calamities1 they  could not persuade    
themselves to cast them into the heap1  
when they came  up to it2 but1 after a  
few faint efforts1 shook their heads and
 marched  away1 as heavy laden as they  

came4    #g4 ,i saw multitudes of old   
women throw down their wrinkles1 and    
several  young ones who stripped        
themselves of a tawny skin4 ,there were 
very  great heaps of red noses1 large   
lips1 and rusty teeth4 ,the truth of it 
is1 ,i was surprised to see the greatest
 part of the mountain made up of  bodily
 deformities4 ,observing one advancing  
towards the heap with a  larger cargo   
than ordinary upon his back1 ,i found1  
upon his near  approach1 that it was    
only a natural hump1 which he disposed  
of with  great joy of heart1 among this 
collection of human miseries4    #h4    
,there were likewise distempers of all  
sorts1 though ,i could not but  observe1
 that there were many more imaginary    
than real4 ,one little  packet ,i could 
not but take notice of1 which was a     
complication of the  diseases incident  
to human nature1 and was in the hands of
 a great many  fine people3 this was    
called the spleen4 ,but what most of all
 surprised  me1 was a remark ,i made1   

that there was not a single vice or     
folly  thrown into the whole heap2 at   
which ,i was very much astonished1      
having  concluded within myself1 that   
every one would take this opportunity of
  getting rid of his passions1          
prejudices and frailties4    #i4 ,i took
 notice in particular of a very         
profligate fellow1 who1 ,i did  not     
question1 came laden with his crimes1   
but1 upon searching into his  bundle1 ,i
 found1 that instead of throwing his    
guilt from him1 he had  only laid down  
his memory4 ,he was followed by another 
worthless rogue1  who flung away his    
modesty instead of his ignorance4       
#aj4 ,when the whole race of mankind had
 thus cast their burthens1 the  phantom1
 which had been so busy on this         
occasion1 seeing me an idle  spectator  
of what passed1 approached towards me4  
,i grew uneasy at her  presence1 when1  
on a sudden1 she laid her magnifying    
glass full before  my eyes4 ,i no sooner
 saw my face in it but was startled at  

the shortness  of it1 which now appeared
 to me in its utmost aggravation4       
#aa4 ,the immoderate breadth of my      
features made me very much out of       
humour with my own countenance1 upon    
which ,i threw it from me like a  mask4 
,it happened very luckily1 that one who 
stood by me had just before  thrown down
 his visage1 which1 it satins1 was too  
long for him4 ,it was1  indeed1 extended
 to a most shameful length2 ,i believe  
the very chin was1  modestly speaking1  
as long as my whole face4    #ab4 ,we   
had both of us an opportunity of mending
 ourselves1 and all the  contributions  
being now brought in1 every man was at  
liberty to exchange  his misfortune for 
those of another person4 ,but as there  
arose many new  incidents in the sequel 
of my vision1 ,i shall pursue this      
subject  further1 as the moral which may
 be drawn from it1 is applicable to     
persons of all degrees and stations in  
life4    #ac4 ,i gave my reader a sight 
of that mountain of miseries1 which was 

made up of those several calamities that
 afflict the minds of men4 ,i saw  with 
unspeakable pleasure1 the whole species 
thus delivered from its  sorrows2       
though1 at the same time1 as we stood   
round the heap1 and  surveyed the       
several materials of which it was       
composed1 there was  scarce a mortal1 in
 this vast multitude1 who did not       
discover what he  thought pleasures and 
blessings of life2 and wondered how the 
owners of  them ever came to look upon  
them as burthens and grievances4    #ad4
 ,as we were regarding very attentively 
this confusion of miseries1  this chaos 
of calamity1 ,jupiter issued out a      
second proclamation1 that  every one was
 now at liberty to exchange his         
affliction1 and to return  to his       
habitation with any such other bundle as
 should be delivered to  him4    #ae4   
,upon this1 ,fancy began again to bestir
 herself1 and parcelling out  the whole 
heap1 with incredible activity1         
recommended to every one his  particular

 packet4 ,the hurry and confusion at    
this time was not to be  expressed4     
,some observations which ,i made upon   
the occasion1 ,i shall  communicate to  
the reader4 ,a venerable grey-headed    
man1 who had laid  down his cholic1 and 
who1 ,i found1 wanted an heir to his    
estate1  snatched up an undutiful son1  
that had been thrown into the heap by   
his  angry father4    #af4 ,the         
graceless youth1 in less than a quarter 
of an hour1 pulled the  old gentleman by
 the beard1 and had like to have knocked
 his brains out2  so that meeting the   
true father1 who came toward him in a   
fit of the  gripes1 he begged him to    
take his son again1 and give him back   
his  cholic2 but they were incapable    
either of them to recede from the choice
  they had made4    #ag4 ,a poor        
galley-slave1 who had thrown down his   
chains1 took up the  gout in their      
stead1 but made such wry faces1 that one
 might easily  perceive he was no great 
gainer by the bargain4 ,it was pleasant 

enough  to see the several exchanges    
that were made1 for sickness against    
poverty1 hunger against want of         
appetite1 and care against pain4    #ah4
 ,the female world were very busy among 
themselves in bartering for  features2  
one was trucking a lock of grey hairs   
for a carbuncle1 another  was making    
over a short waist for a pair of round  
shoulders1 and a third  cheapening a bad
 face for a lost reputation3 but on all 
these occasions1  there was not one of  
them who did not think the new blemish1 
as soon as  she had got it into her     
possession1 much more disagreeable than 
the old  one4    #ai4 ,i made the same  
observation on every other misfortune or
 calamity1  which every one in the      
assembly brought upon himself1 in lieu  
of what he  had parted with2 whether it 
be that all the evils which befall us1  
are  in some measure suited and         
proportioned to our strength1 or that   
every  evil becomes more supportable by 
our being accustomed to it1 ,i shall not

  determine4    #bj4 ,i could not1 for  
my heart1 forbear pitying the poor      
hump-backed  gentleman mentioned in the 
former paper1 who went off a very       
well-shaped  person1 with a stone in his
 bladder2 nor the fine gentleman who had
  struck up this bargain with him1 that 
limped through a whole assembly of      
ladies who used to admire him1 with a   
pair of shoulders peeping over his      
head4    #ba4 ,i must not omit my own   
particular adventure4 ,my friend with   
the long  visage had no sooner taken    
upon him my short face1 but he made such
 a  grotesque figure in it1 that1 as ,i 
looked upon him1 ,i could not forbear   
laughing at myself1 insomuch that ,i put
 my own face out of countenance4  ,the  
poor gentleman was so sensible of the   
ridicule1 that ,i found he was  ashamed 
of what he had done3 on the other side1 
,i found that ,i myself  had no great   
reason to triumph1 for as ,i went to    
touch my forehead1 ,i  missed the place1
 and clapped my finger upon my upper    

lip4    #bb4 ,besides1 as my nose was   
exceedingly prominent1 ,i gave it two or
  three unlucky knocks as ,i was playing
 my hand about my face1 and aiming  at  
some other part of it4 ,i saw two other 
gentlemen by me1 who were in  the same  
ridiculous circumstances3 these had made
 a foolish swap between  a couple of    
thick bandy legs1 and two long          
trap-sticks that had no calfs  to them4 
#bc4 ,one of these looked like a man    
walking upon stilts1 and was so  lifted 
up in the air above his ordinary height1
 that his head turned  round with ,it1  
while the other made such awkward       
circles1 as he  attempted to walk1 that 
he scarce knew how to move forward upon 
his new  supporters3 observing him to be
 a pleasant kind of fellow1 ,i stuck my 
cane in the ground1 and ,i told him ,i  
would lay him a bottle of wine1  that he
 did not march up to it on the line that
 ,i drew for him1 in a  quarter of an   
hour4    #bd4 ,the heap was at last     
distributed among the two sexes1 who    

made a  most piteous sight1 as they     
wandered up and down under the pressure 
of  their several burthens4 ,the whole  
plain was filled with murmurs and       
complaints1 groans and lamentations4    
,jupiter1 at length1 taking  compassion 
on the poor mortals1 ordered them a     
second time to lay down  their loads1   
with a design to give every one his own 
again4    #be4 ,they discharged         
themselves with a great deal of         
pleasure1 alter  which the phantom1 who 
had led them into such gross delusions1 
was  commanded to disappear4 ,there was 
sent in her stead a goddess of a quite  
different figure2 her motions were      
steady and composed1 and her aspect     
serious1 but cheerful4 ,she every now   
and then cast her eyes towards  heaven1 
and fixed them upon ,jupiter4    #be4   
,her name was ,patience4 ,she had no    
sooner placed herself by the  mount of  
sorrow1 but1 what ,i thought very       
remarkable1 the whole heap  sunk to such
 a degree1 that it did not appear a     

third part so big as it  was before4    
,she afterwards returned every man his  
own proper calamity1  and teaching him  
how to bear it in the most commodious   
manner1 he  marched off with it         
contentedly1 being very well pleased    
that he had not  been left to his own   
choice as to the kind of evils which    
fell to his  lot4    #bg4 ,besides the  
several pieces of morality to be drawn  
out of this  vision1 ,i learned from it1
 never to repine at my own misfortunes1 
nor  to envy the happiness of another1  
since it is impossible for any man to   
form a right judgment of his neighbour's
 sufferings2 for which reason  also1 ,i 
have determined never to think too      
lightly of another's  complaints1 but to
 regard the sorrows of my               
fellow-creatures with  sentiments of    
humanity and compassion4          ,a    
,life of ,virtue preferable to a ,life  
of ,pleasure1 exemplified in the        
,choice of ,hercules4      ,,tatler1    
,no4 #ig4    #a4 ,when ,hercules1 says  

the divine ,prodicus1 was in that part  
of his  youth1 in which it was natural  
for him to consider what course of life 
he ought to pursue1 he one day retired  
into a desert1 where the silence  and   
solitude of the place very much favoured
 his meditations4    #b4 ,as he was     
musing on his present condition1 and    
very much perplextd in  himself on the  
state of life he should chuse1 he saw   
two women of a  larger stature than     
ordinary approaching towards him4 ,one  
of them had a  very noble air and       
graceful deportment2 her beauty was     
natural and easy2  her person clean and 
unspotted2 her eyes cast towards the    
ground1 with  an agreeable reserve2 her 
motion and behaviour full of modesty2   
and her  raiment as white as snow4      
#c4 ,the other had a great deal of      
health and florridness in her           
countenance1 which she had helped with  
an artificial white and red1 and        
endeavoured to appear more graceful than
 ordinary in her mein1 by a  mixture of 

affectation in all her gestures4 ,she   
had a wonderful  confidence and         
assurance in her looks1 and all the     
variety of colours in  her dress that   
she thought were the most proper to shew
 her complexion  to an advantage4 ,she  
cast her eyes upon herself1 then turned 
them on  those that were present to see 
how they liked her1 and often looked on 
the figure she made in her own shadow4  
#d4 ,upon her nearer approach to        
,hercules1 she stepped before the other 
lady1 who came forward with a regular   
composed carriage1 and running up  to   
him1 accosted him after the following   
manner3    #e4 ,my dear ,hercules1 says 
she1 ,i find you are very much divided  
in your  own thoughts upon the way of   
life that you ought to chuse3 be my     
friend  and follow me2 ,i will lead you 
into the possession of pleasure and out 
of the reach of pain1 and remove you    
from all the noise and disquietude  of  
business4 ,the affairs of either war or 
peace shall have no power to  disturb   

you4 ,your whole employment shall be to 
make your life easy1 and  to entertain  
every sense with its proper             
gratifications4 ,sumptuous  tables1 beds
 of roses1 clouds of perfumes1 concerts 
of music1 crouds of  beauties1 are all  
in readiness to receive you4 ,come along
 with me into  this region of delights1 
this world of pleasure1 and bid farewell
 for  ever to care1 to pain1 and to     
business4    #f4 ,hercules hearing the  
lady talk after this manner1 desired to 
know her  name2 to which she answered1  
my friends1 and those who are well      
acquainted with me1 call me ,happiness2 
but my enemies1 and those who  would    
injure my reputation1 have given me the 
name of ,pleasure4    #g4 ,by this time 
the other lady was come up1 who         
addressed herself to the  young hero in 
a very different manner4    ,hercules1  
says she1 ,i offer myself to you1       
because ,i know you are  descended from 
the gods1 and give proofs of that       
descent by your love to  virtue1 and    

application to the studies proper to    
your age4 ,this makes me  hope you will 
gain both for yourself and me an        
immortal reputation4 ,but  before ,i    
invite you into my society and          
friendship1 ,i will be open and  sincere
 with you1 and must lay down this as an 
established truth1 that  there is       
nothing truly valuable which can be     
purchased without pains and  labour4    
#h4 ,the gods have set a price upon     
every real and noble pleasure4 ,if you  
would gain the favour of the ,deity1 you
 must be at the pains of  worshipping   
him2 if the friendship of good men1 you 
must study to oblige  them2 if you would
 be honoured by your country1 you must  
take care to  serve it4 ,in short1 if   
you would be eminent in war or peace1   
you must  become master of all the      
qualifications that can make you so4    
,these are  the only terms and          
conditions upon which ,i can propose    
happiness4 ,the  goddess of pleasure    
here broke in upon her discourse3    #i4

 ,you see1 said she1 ,hercules1 by her  
own confession1 the way to her  pleasure
 is long and difficult1 whereas that    
which ,i propose is short  and easy4    
,alas6 said the other lady1 whose visage
 glowed with a passion  made up of scorn
 and pity1 what are the pleasures you   
propose8 ,to eat  before you are hungry1
 drink before you are thirsty1 sleep    
before you  are tired1 to gratify       
appetites before they are raised1 and   
raise such  appetites as nature never   
planted4    #aj4 ,you never heard the   
most delicate music1 which is the praise
 of  one's self2 nor saw the most       
beautiful object1 which is the work of  
one's own hands4 ,your votaries pass    
away their youth in a dream of  mistaken
 pleasures1 while they are hoarding up  
anguish1 torment1 and  remorse1 for old 
age4    #aa4 ,as for me1 ,i am a friend 
of the ,gods and of good men1 an        
agreeable  companion to the artisan1 a  
household guardian to the fathers of    
families1 a patron and protector of     

servants1 and associate in all true  and
 generous friendships4 ,the banquets of 
my votaries are never costly1  but      
always delicious2 for none eat or drink 
at them who are not invited  by hunger  
and thirst4 ,their slumbers are sound1  
and their wakings  cheerful4    #ab4 ,my
 young men have the pleasure of hearing 
themselves praised by  those who are in 
years1 and those who are in years1 of   
being honoured by  those who are young4 
,in a word1 my followers are favoured by
 the gods1  beloved by their            
acquaintance1 esteemed by their country1
 and after the  close of their labours1 
honoured by posterity4    #ac4 ,we know 
by the life of this memorable hero1 to  
which of these two  ladies he gave up   
his heart2 and ,i believe1 every one who
 reads this1  will do him the justice to
 approve his choice4    #ad4 ,i very    
much admire the speeches of these       
ladies1 as containing in  them the chief
 arguments for a life of virtue1 or a   
life of pleasure1  that could enter into

 the thoughts of an heathen3 but am     
particularly  pleased with the different
 figures he gives the two goddesses4    
,our  modern authors have represented   
pleasure or vice with an alluring face1 
but ending in snakes and monsters3 here 
she appears in all the charms of        
beauty1 though they are all false and   
borrowed2 and by that means  compose a  
vision entirely natural and pleasing4   
#ae4 ,i have translated this allegory   
for the benefit of the youth in         
general2 and particularly of those who  
are still in the deplorable state  of   
non-existence1 and whom ,i most         
earnestly intreat to come into the      
world4 ,let my embryos shew the least   
inclination to any single virtue1  and  
,i shall allow it to be a struggling    
towards birth4    #af4 ,i do not expect 
of them that1 like the hero in the      
foregoing story1  they should go about  
as soon as they are born1 with a club in
 their  hands1 and a lion's skin on     
their shoulders1 to root out monsters   

and  destroy tyrants2 but as the finest 
author of all antiquity has said upon   
this very occasion1 though a man has not
 the abilities to distinguish  himself  
in the most shining parts of a great    
character1 he has certainly  the        
capacity of being just1 faithful1       
modest1 and temperate4          ,virtue 
rewarded2 ,the ,history of ,amanda4     
,,spectator1 ,no4 #cge4    #a4 ,i have  
more than once had occasion to mention a
 noble saying of  ,seneca the           
philosopher1 that a virtuous person     
struggling with  misfortunes1 and rising
 above them1 is an object on which the  
gods  themselves may look down with     
delight4 ,i shall therefore set before  
my  readers a scene of this kind of     
distress in private life1 for the       
speculation of this day4    #b4 ,an     
eminent citizen1 who had lived in good  
fashion and credit1 was by  a train of  
accidents1 and by an unavoidable        
perplexity in his affairs1  reduced to a
 low condition4 ,there is a modesty     

usually attending  faultless poverty1   
which made him rather chuse to reduce   
his manner of  living to his present    
circumstances1 than solicit his friends1
 in order  to support the shew of an    
estate1 when the substance was gone4    
#c4 ,his wife1 who was a woman of sense 
and virtue1 behaved herself on  this    
occasion with uncommon decency1 and     
never appeared so amiable in  his eyes  
as now4 ,instead of upbraiding him with 
the ample fortune she  had brought1 or  
the many great offers she had refused   
for his sake1 she  redoubled all the    
instances of her affection1 while her   
husband was  continually pouring out his
 heart to her in complaints1 that he had
  ruined the best woman in the we world4
    #d4 ,he sometimes came home at a    
time when she did not expect him1 and   
surprised her in tears1 which she       
endeavoured to conceal1 and always put  
on an air of cheerfulness to receive    
him4 ,to lessen their expense1 their    
eldest daughter 7whom ,i shall call     

,amanda7 was sent into the country1 to  
the house of an honest farmer1 who had  
married a servant of the family3  ,this 
young woman was apprehensive of the ruin
 which was approaching1 and  had        
privately engaged a friend in the       
neighbourhood to give her an  account of
 what passed from time to time in her   
father's affairs4    #e4 ,amanda was in 
the bloom of her youth and beauty1 when 
the lord of the  manor1 who often called
 in at the farmer's house as he followed
 his  country sports1 fell passionately 
in love with her4 ,he was a man of      
great generosity1 but from a loose      
education had contracted a hearty       
aversion to marriage4 ,he therefore     
entertained a design upon ,amanda's     
virtue1 which at present he thought fit 
to keep private4 ,the innocent          
creature1 who never suspected his       
intentions1 was pleased with his        
person2 and1 having observed his growing
 passion for her1 hoped by so           
advantageous a match she might quickly  

be in a capacity of supporting  her     
impoverished relations4    #f4 ,one day 
as he called to see her1 he found her in
 tears over a letter  she had just      
received from her friend1 which gave an 
account that her  father had been lately
 stript of every thing by an execution4 
,the lover1  who with some difficulty   
found out the cause of her grief1 took  
this  occasion to make her a proposal4  
,it is impossible to express ,amanda's  
confusion when she found his pretentions
 were not honourable4    #g4 ,she was   
now deserted of all hopes1 and had no   
power to speak2 but  rushing from him in
 the utmost disturbance1 locked herself 
up in her  chamber4 ,he immediately     
dispatched a messenger to her father    
with the  following letter4    #h4      
,,sir1    ',i have heard of your        
misfortune1 and have offered your       
daughter1 if she  will live with me1 to 
settle on her four hundred pounds a     
year1 and to  lay down the sum for which
 you are now distressed4 ,i will be so  

ingenuous as to tell you1 that ,i do not
 intend marriage2 but if you are  wise1 
you will use your authority with her not
 to be too nice1 when she  has an       
opportunity of serving you and your     
family1 and of making herself  happy4   
',i am1 c4'    #i4 ,this letter came to 
the hands of ,amanda's mother3 she      
opened and read  it with great surprise 
and concern4 ,she did not think it      
proper to  explain herself to the       
messenger2 but desiring him to call     
again the  next morning1 she wrote to   
her daughter as follows3    #aj4        
,dearest ,child1    ',your father and ,i
 have just now received a letter from a 
gentleman who  pretends love to you1    
with a proposal that insults our        
misfortunes1 and  would throw us to a   
lower degree of misery than any thing   
which is come  upon us4 ,how could this 
barbarous man think that the tenderest  
of  parents would be tempted to supply  
their wants1 by giving up the best of   
children to infamy and ruin6 ,it is a   

mean and cruel artifice to make  this   
proposal at a time when he thinks our   
necessities must compel us to  any      
thing2 but we will not eat the bread of 
shame2 and therefore we  charge thee not
 to think of us1 but to avoid the snare 
which is laid for  thy virtue4 ,beware  
of pitying us3 it is not so bad as you  
have perhaps  been told4 ,all things    
will yet be well1 and ,i shall write my 
child  better news4    ',i have been    
interrupted4 ,i know not how ,i was     
moved to say things would  mend4 ,as ,i 
was going on1 ,i was startled by the    
noise of one that knocked  at the door1 
and had brought us an unexpected supply 
of a debt which had  long been owing4   
,oh6 ,i will now tell thee all4 ,it is  
some days ,i have  lived almost without 
support1 having conveyed what little    
money ,i could  raise to your poor      
father4 ,thou wilt weep to think where  
he is1 yet be  assured he will soon be  
at liberty4 ,that cruel letter would    
have broke  his heart1 but ,i have      

concealed it from him4 ,i have no       
companion at  present besides little    
,fanny1 who stands watching my looks as 
,i write1  and is crying for her sister2
 she says she is sure you are not well1 
having discovered that my present       
trouble is about you4 ,but do not think 
,i would thus repeat my sorrows to      
grieve thee4 ,no1 it is to intreat thee 
not to make them insupportable1 by      
adding what would be worse than all4    
,let us bear cheerfully an affliction   
which we have not brought on  ourselves1
 and remember there is a ,power who can 
better deliver us out  of it1 than by   
the loss of thy innocence4 ,heaven      
preserve my dear child4    ',thy        
affectionate mother--4'    #aa4 ,the    
messenger1 notwithstanding he promised  
to deliver this letter to  ,amanda1     
carried it first to his master1 who1 he 
imagined1 would be glad  to have an     
opportunity of giving it into her hands 
himself4 ,his master  was impatient to  
know the success of his proposal1 and   

therefore broke  open the letter        
privately1 to see the contents4    #ab4 
,he was not a little moved at so true a 
picture of virtue in  distress3 but1 at 
the same time1 was infinitely surprised 
to find his  offers rejected4 ,however1 
he resolved not to suppress the letter1 
but  carefully sealed it up again1 and  
carried it to ,amanda4 ,all his         
endeavours to see her were in vain1 till
 she was assured he brought a  letter   
from her mother4 ,he would not part with
 it but upon condition  that she should 
read it without leaving the room4       
#ac4 ,while she was perusing it1 he     
fixed his eyes on her face with the     
deepest attention2 her concern gave a   
new softness to her beauty1 and  when   
she burst into tears1 he could no longer
 refrain from bearing a  part in her    
sorrow1 and telling her1 that he too had
 read the letter1  and was resolved to  
make reparation for having been the     
occasion of it4  ,my reader will not be 
displeased to see the second epistle    

which he now  wrote to ,amanda's mother4
    ,,madam1    ',i am full of shame1   
and will never forgive myself if ,i have
 not your  pardon for what ,i lately    
wrote4 ,it was far from my intention to 
add  trouble to the afflicted2 nor could
 any thing but my being a stranger to   
you1 have betrayed me into a fault1 for 
which1 if ,i live1 ,i shall  endeavour  
to make you amends as a son4 ,you cannot
 be unhappy while  ,amanda is your      
daughter3 nor shall be1 if any thing can
 prevent it1  which is in the power of1 
,,madam1    ,your obedient humble       
servant--4'    #ad4 ,this letter he sent
 by his steward1 and soon after went up 
to town  himself to complete the        
generous act he had now resolved on4 ,by
 his  friendship and assistance1        
,amanda's father was quickly in a       
condition of  retrieving his perplexed  
affairs4 ,to conclude1 he married       
,amanda1 and  enjoyed the double        
satisfaction of having restored a worthy
 family to  their former prosperity1 and

 of making himself happy by an alliance 
to  their virtues4          ,the ,story 
of ,abdallah and ,balsora4              
,,guardian1 ,no4 #afg4    #a4 ,the      
following story is lately translated out
 of an ,arabian  manuscript1 which ,i   
think has very much the turn of an      
oriental tale3  and as it has never     
before been printed1 ,i question not but
 it will be  highly acceptable to my    
reader4    #b4 ,the name of ,helim is   
still famous through all the eastern    
parts of  the world4 ,he is called among
 the ,persians1 even to this day1 ,helim
 the  great physician4 ,he was          
acquainted with all the powers of       
simples1  understood all the influence  
of the stars1 and knew the secrets that 
were engraved on the seal of ,solomon   
the son of ,david4 ,helim was also      
governor of the black palace1 and chief 
of the physicians to ,alnareschin  the  
great king of ,persia4    #c4           
,alnareschin was the most dreadful      
tyrant that ever reigned in this        

country4 ,he was of a fearful1          
suspicious and cruel nature1 having put 
to  death1 upon very slight jealousies2 
and surmises1 five-and-thirty of his    
queens1 and above twenty sons whom he   
suspected to have conspired  against his
 life4 ,being at length wearied with the
 exercise of so many  cruelties in his  
own family1 and fearing lest the whole  
race of ,caliphs  should be entirely    
lost1 he one day sent for ,helim1 and   
spoke to him  after this manner4    #d4 
',helim1' said he1 ',i have long admired
 thy great wisdom1 and retired  way of  
living4 ,i shall now shew thee the      
entire confidence which ,i place  in    
thee4 ,i have only two sons remaining1  
who are as yet but infants4 ,it  is my  
design that thou take them home with    
thee1 and educate them as thy  own4     
,train them up in the humble unambitious
 pursuits of knowledge4 ,by  this means 
shall the line of ,caliphs be preserved1
 and my children  succeed after me1     
without aspiring to my throne whilst ,i 

am yet alive4'    #e4 ,the words of my  
lord the king shall be obeyed1 said     
,helim4 ,after  which he bowed1 and went
 out of the king's presence4 ,he then   
received  the children into his own     
house1 and from that time bred them up  
with  him in the studies of knowledge   
and virtue4 ,the young princes loved and
  respected ,helim as their father1 and 
made such improvements under him1  that 
by the age of one-and-twenty they were  
instructed in all the  learning of the  
,east4    #f4 ,the name of the eldest   
was ,ibrahim1 and of the youngest       
,abdallah4  ,they lived together in such
 a perfect friendship1 that to this day 
it is  said of intimate friends1 that   
they live together like ,ibrahim and    
,abdallah4 ,helim had an only child1 who
 was a girl of a fine soul1 and a  most 
beautiful person4 ,her father omitted   
nothing in her education1 that  might   
make her the most accomplished woman of 
her age4    #g4 ,as the young princes   
were in a manner excluded from the rest 

of the  world1 they frequently conversed
 with this lovely virgin1 who had been  
brought up by her father in the same    
course of knowledge and of virtue4      
#h4 ,abdallah1 whose mind was of a      
softer turn than tint of his brother1   
grew by degrees so enamoured of her     
conversation1 that he did not think  he 
lived1 when he was not in company with  
his beloved ,balsora1 for that  was the 
name of the maid4 ,the fame of her      
beauty was so great1 that at  length it 
came to the ears of the king1 who1      
pretending to visit the  young princes  
his sons1 demanded of ,helim the sight  
of ,balsora his fair  daughter4    #i4  
,the king was so enflamed with her      
beauty and behaviour1 that he sent  for 
,helim the next morning1 and told him it
 was now his design to  recompence him  
for all his faithful services2 and that 
in order to it1  he intended to make his
 daughter queen of ,persia4    #aj4     
,helim1 who knew very well the fate of  
all those unhappy women who  had been   

thus advanced1 and could not but be     
privy to the secret love  which         
,abdallah bore his daughter2 ',far be   
it1' says he1 'from the king  of ,persia
 to contaminate the blood of the        
,caliphs1 and join himself in  marriage 
with the daughter of his physcian4'     
#aa4 ,the king1 however1 was so         
impatient for such a bride1 that without
  hearing any excuses1 he immediately   
ordered ,balsora to be sent for into    
his presence1 keeping the father with   
him in order to make her sensible  of   
the honour which he designed4 ,balsora1 
who was too modest and humble  to think 
her beauty had made such an impression  
on the king1 was a few  moments after   
brought into his presence as he had     
commanded4    #ab4 ,she appeared in the 
king's eye as one of the virgins of     
paradise4  ,but upon hearing the honour 
which he intended her1 she fainted away1
 and  fell down as dead at his feet4    
,helim wept1 and after having recovered 
her out of the trance into which she was

 fallen1 represented to the king  that  
so unexpected an honour was too great to
 have been communicated to  her all at  
once2 but that1 if he pleased1 he would 
himself prepare her  for it4 ,the king  
bid him take his own away and dismissed 
him4    #ac4 ,balsora was conveyed again
 to her father's house1 where the       
thoughts  of ,abdallah renewed her      
affliction every moment2 insomuch that  
at length  she fell into a raging fever4
 ,the king was informed of her condition
 by  those who saw her4 ,helim finding  
no other means of extricating her from  
the difficulties she was in1 after      
having composed her mind1 and made  her 
acquainted with his intentions1 gave her
 a certain potion1 which he  knew would 
lay her asleep for many hours2 and      
afterwards in all the  seeming distress 
of a disconsolate father informed the   
king she was  dead4    #ad4 ,the king1  
who never let any sentiments of humanity
 come too near his  heart1 did not much 
trouble himself about the matter2       

however1 for his  own reputation1 he    
told the father1 that since it was known
 through the  empire that ,balsora died 
at a time when he designed her for his  
bride1  it was his intention that she   
should be honoured as such after her    
death1 that her body should be laid in  
the black palace1 among those of  his   
deceased queens4    #ae4 ,in the        
meantime ,abdallah1 who had heard of the
 king's design1 was  not less afflicted 
than his beloved ,balsora4 ,as for the  
several  circumstances of his distress1 
as also how the king was informed of an 
irrecoverable distemper into which he   
was fallen1 they are to be found  at    
length in the history of ,helim4    #af4
 ,it shall suffice to acquaint the      
reader1 that ,helim1 some days after    
the supposed death of his daughter1 gave
 the prince a potion of the same  nature
 with which he had laid asleep ,balsora4
    #ag4 ,it is the custom among the    
,persians1 to convey in a private manner
  the bodies of all the royal family a  

little after their death1 into the      
black palace2 which is the repository of
 all who are descended from the         
,caliphs1 or any way allied to them4    
,the chief physician is always  governor
 of the black palace2 it being his      
office to embalm and  preserve the holy 
family after they are dead1 as well as  
to take care of  them while they are yet
 living4    #ah4 ,the black palace is so
 called from the colour of the building1
 which  is all of the finest polished   
black marble4 ,there are always burning 
in  it five thousand everlasting lamps4 
,it has also an hundred folding doors   
of ebony1 which are each of them watched
 day and night by an hundred  negroes1  
who are to take care that nobody enters 
besides the governor4    #ai4 ,helim1   
after having conveyed the body of his   
daughter into this  repository1 and at  
the appointed time received her out of  
the sleep into  which she was fallen1   
took care some time after to bring that 
of  ,abdallah into the same place4      

,balsora1 watched over him till such    
time  as the dose he had taken lost its 
effect4 ,abdallah was not acquainted    
with ,helim's design when he gave him   
this sleepy potion4    #bj4 ,it is      
impossible to describe the surprise1 the
 joy1 the transport he  was in at his   
first awaking4 ,he fancied himself in   
the retirement of the  blest1 and that  
the spirit of his dear ,balsora1 who he 
thought was just  gone before him1 was  
the first who came to congratulate his  
arrival4 ,she  soon informed him of the 
place he was in1 which notwithstanding  
all its  horrors1 appeared to him more  
sweet than the bower of ,mahomet1 in the
  company of his ,balsora4    #ba4      
,helim1 who was supposed to be taken up 
in the embalming of the  bodies1 visited
 the place very frequently4 ,his        
greatest perplexity was  how to get the 
lovers out of it1 the gates being       
watched in such a  manner as ,i have    
before related4 ,this consideration did 
not a little  disturb the two interred  

lovers4    #bb4 ,at length ,helim       
bethought himself1 that the first day of
 the full  moon of the month ,tizpa was 
near at hand4 ,now it is a received     
tradition  among the ,persians1 that the
 souls of those of the royal family1 who
 are  in a state of bliss1 do1 on the   
first full moon after their decease1    
pass through the eastern gate of the    
black palace1 which is therefore  called
 the ,gate of ,paradise1 in order to    
take their flight for that  happy place4
    #bc4 ,helim1 therefore1 having made 
due preparation for this night1  dressed
 each of the lovers in a robe of azure  
silk1 wrought in the  finest looms of   
,persia1 with a long train of linen     
whiter than snow1  that flowed on the   
ground behind them4 ,upon ,abdallah's   
head he fixed a  wreath of the greenest 
myrtle1 and on ,balsora's a garland of  
the  freshest roses4 ,their garments    
were scented with the richest perfumes  
of  ,arabia4    #bd4 ,having thus       
prepared every thing1 the full moon was 

no sooner up1  and shining in all its   
brightness1 but he privately opened the 
,gate of  ,paradise1 and shut it after  
the same manner1 as soon as they had    
passed  through it4    #be4 ,the band of
 negroes who were posted at a little    
distance from the  gate1 seeing two such
 beautiful apparitions1 that shewed     
themselves  to'aclvantage by the light  
of the full moon1 and being ravished    
with the  odour that flowed from their  
garments1 immediately concluded them to 
be  the ghosts of the two persons lately
 deceased4    #bf4 ,they fell upon their
 faces as they passed through the midst 
of them1  and continued prostrate on the
 earth until such time as they were out 
of  sight4 ,they reported the next day  
what they had seen1 but this was  looked
 upon by the king himself and most      
others1 as the compliment that  was     
usually paid to any of the deceased of  
his family4    #bg4 ,helim had placed   
two of his own mules about a mile's     
distance from  the black temple1 on the 

spot which they had agreed upon for     
their  rendezvous4 ,here he met them1   
and conducted them to one of his own    
houses1 which was situated on mount     
,khacan4    #bh4 ,the air of this       
mountain was so very healthful1 that    
,helim had  formerly transported the    
king thither1 in order to recover him   
out of a  long fit of sickness1 which   
succeeded so well1 that the king made   
him a  present of the whole mountain1   
with a beautiful house and garden that  
were on the top of it4    #bi4 ,in this 
retirement lived ,abdallah and ,balsora4
 ,they were both so  fraught with all   
kinds of knowledge1 and possessed with  
so constant and  mutual a passion for   
each other1 that their solitude never   
lay heavy on  them4    #cj4 ,abdallah   
applied himself to those arts ,which    
were agreeable to his  manner of living1
 and the situation of the place2        
insomuch that in a few  years he        
converted the whole mountain into a kind
 of garden1 and covered  every part of  

it with plantations or spots of flowers4
    ,helim was too good a father to let 
him want any thing that might conduce   
to make his retirement pleasant4    #ca4
 ,in about ten years after their abode  
in this place1 the old king  died1 and  
was succeeded by his son ,ibrahim1 who  
upon the supposed death  of his brother1
 had been called to court1 and          
entertained there as heir  to the       
,persian empire4 ,though he was some    
years inconsolable for the  death of his
 brother1 ,helim durst not trust him    
with the secret1 which  he knew would   
have fatal consequences1 should it by   
any means come to  the knowledge of the 
old king4    #cb4 ,ibrahim was no sooner
 mounted to the throne1 but ,helim      
sought after  a proper opportunity of   
making a discovery to him1 which he knew
 would  be very agreeable to so good    
natured and generous a prince4 ,it so   
happened1 that before ,helim found such 
an opportunity as he desired1 the  new  
king ,ibrahim1 having been separated    

from his company in a chase1 and  almost
 fainting with heat and thirst1 saw     
himself at the foot of mount  ,khacan4  
,he immediately ascended the hill1 and  
coming to ,helim's house1  demanded some
 refreshments4    #cc4 ,helim was very  
luckily there at that time2 and after   
having set  before the king the choicest
 of wines and fruits1 finding him       
wonderfully pleased with so seasonable a
 treat1 told him that the best  part of 
his entertainment was to come4 ,upon    
which he opened to him the  whole       
history of what had passed4 ,the king   
was at once astonished and  transported 
at so strange a relation1 and seeing his
 brother enter the  room with ,balsora  
in his hand1 he leaped off from the sofa
 on which he  sat1 and cried out1 ',it  
is he6 it is my ,abdallah6' ,having said
 this1 he  fell upon his neck1 and wept4
    #cd4 ,the whole company for some    
time remained silent1 and shedding tears
  of joy4 ,the king at length having    
kindly reproached ,helim for depriving  

him so long from such a brother1        
embraced ,balsora with the greatest     
tenderness1 and told her that she should
 now be a queen indeed1 for that  he    
would immediately make his brother king 
of all the conquered nations  on the    
other side the ,tigris4    #ce4 ,he     
easily discovered in the eyes of our two
 lovers1 that instead of  being         
transported with the offer1 they        
preferred their present  retirement to  
empire4 ,at their request1 therefore1 he
 changed his  intentions1 and made them 
a present of all the open country as far
 as  they could sec from the top of     
mount ,khacan4    #cf4 ,abdallah        
continuing to extend his former         
improvements1 beautified  this whole    
prospect with groves and fountains1     
gardens and seats of  pleasure1 until it
 became the most delicious spot of      
ground within the  empire1 and is       
therefore called the garden of ,persia4 
#cg4 ,this ,caliph1 ,ibrahim1 after a   
long and happy reign1 died without      

children1 and was succeeded by          
,abdallah1 a son of ,abdallah and       
,balsora4  ,this was that king          
,abdallah1 who afterwards fixed the     
imperial residence  upon mount ,khacan1 
which continues at this time to be the  
favourite  palace of the ,persian       
empire4          ,on ,rashness and      
,cowardice4    ,,rambler1 ,no4 #be4     
#a4 ,there are some vices and errors    
which1 though often fatal to those in   
whom they are found1 have yet1 by the   
universal consent of mankind1 been      
considered as entitled to some degree of
 respect1 or have at least been         
exempted from contemptuous infamy1 and  
condemned by the severest  moralists    
with pity rather than detestation4      
#b4 ,a constant and invariable example  
of this general partiality will be      
found in the different regard which has 
always been shewn to rashness  and      
cowardice2 two vices1 of which1 though  
they maybe conceived equally  distant   
from the middle point1 where true       

fortitude is placed1 and may  equally   
injure any public or private interest1  
yet the one is never  mentioned without 
some kind of veneration1 and the other  
always  considered as a topic of        
unlimited and licentious censure1 on    
which all  the virulence of reproach may
 he lawfully exerted4    #c4 ,the same  
distinction is made1 by the common      
suffrage1 between  profusion and        
avarice1 and perhaps between many other 
opposite vices2  and1 as ,i have found  
reason to pay great regard to the voice 
of the  people1 in cases where knowledge
 has been forced upon them by           
experience1 without long deductions or  
deep researches1 ,i am inclined to      
believe that this distribution of       
respect is not without some agreement   
with the nature of things2 and that in  
the faults1 which are thus  invested    
with extraordinary privileges1 there are
 generally some latent  principles of   
merit1 some possibilities of future     
virtue1 which may1 by  decrees1 break   

from obstruction1 and by time and       
opportunity be brought  into act4    #d4
 ,it may be laid down as an axiom1 that 
it is more easy to take away            
superfluities than to supply defects2   
and therefore1 he that is  culpable1    
because he has passed the middle point  
of virtue1 is always  accounted a fairer
 object of hope1 than he who fails by   
falling short4  ,the one has all that   
perfection requires1 and more1 but the  
excess may  be easily retrenched2 the   
other wants the qualities requisite to  
excellence1 and who can tell how he     
shall obtain them8    #e4 ,we are       
certain that the horse may be taught to 
keep pace with his  fellows1 whose fault
 it is that he leaves them behind4 ,we  
know that a  few strokes of the axe will
 lop a cedar2 but what arts of          
cultivation  can elevate a shrub8    #f4
 ,to walk with circumspection and       
steadiness in the right path1 at an     
equal distance between the extremes of  
error1 ought to be the constant         

endeavour of every reasonable being2 nor
 can ,i think those teachers of  moral  
wisdom much to be honoured as           
benefactors to mankind1 who are  always 
enlarging upon the difficulty of our    
duties1 and providing rather  excuses   
for vice1 than incentives to virtue4    
#g4 ,but1 since to most it will happen  
often1 and to all sometimes1 that  there
 will be a deviation towards one side or
 the other1 we ought always  to employ  
our vigilance with most attention1 on   
that enemy from which  there is the     
greatest danger1 and to stray1 if we    
must stray1 towards  those parts from   
whence we may quickly and easily return4
    #h4 ,among other opposite qualities 
of the mind1 which may become           
dangerous1 though in different degrees1 
,i have often had occasion to  consider 
the contrary effects of presumption and 
despondency2 of steady  confidence1     
which promises a victory without        
contest1 and heartless  pusilanimity1   
which shrinks back from the thought of  

great undertakings1  confounds          
difficulty with impossibility1 and      
considers all advancement  towards any  
new attainment1 as irreversibly         
prohibited4    #i4 ,presumption will be 
easily corrected4 ,every experiment will
 teach  caution1 and miscarriages will  
hourly shew1 that attempts are not      
always  rewarded with success4 ,the most
 precipitate ardour will1 in time1 be   
taught the necessity of methodical      
gradation1 and preparatory measures2    
and the most daring confidence be       
convinced1 that neither merit nor       
abilities can command events4    #aj4   
,it is the advantage of vehemence and   
activity1 that they are always          
hastening to their own reformation2     
because they incite us to try  whether  
our expectations are well grounded2 and 
therefore detect the  deceits which they
 are apt to occasion4 ,but timidity is a
 disease of the  mind more obstinate and
 fatal2 for a man once persuaded1 that  
any  impediment is insuperable1 has     

given it1 with respect to himself1 that 
strength and weight which it had not    
before4    #aa4 ,he can scarcely strive 
with vigour and perseverance1 when he   
has no  hope of gaining the victory2 and
 since he will never try his strength1  
can never discover the unreasonableness 
of his fears4    #ab4 ,there is often to
 be found in men devoted to literature1 
a kind of  intellectual cowardice1 which
 whoever converses much among them1 may 
observe frequently to depress the       
alacrity of enterprise1 and by          
consequence to retard the improvement of
 science4    #ac4 ,they have annexed to 
every species of knowledge1 some        
chimerical  character of terror and     
inhibition1 which they transmit1 without
 much  reflection1 from one to another2 
they first fright themselves1 and then  
propagate the panic to their scholars   
and acquaintances4    #ad4 ,one study is
 inconsistent with a lively imagination1
 another with a  solid judgment2 one is 
improper in the early parts of life1    

another  requires so much time1 that it 
is not to be attempted at an advanced   
age2 one is dry and contracts the       
sentiments1 another is diffuse and      
over-burdens the memory2 one is         
insufferable to taste and delicacy1 and 
another wears out life in the study of  
words1 and is useless to a wise  man1   
who desires only the knowledge of       
things4    #ae4 ,but of all the bugbears
 by which the infantes barbati1 boys    
both  young and old1 have been hitherto 
frighted from digressing into new       
tracts of learning1 none has been more  
mischievously efficacious than an       
opinion that every kind of knowledge    
requires a peculiar genius1 or  mental  
constitution1 framed for the reception  
of some ideas and the  exclusion of     
others2 and that to him whose genius is 
not adapted to the  study which he      
prosecutes1 all labour shall be vain and
 fruitless2 vain  as an endeavour to    
mingle oil and water1 or1 in the        
language of  chemistry1 to amalgamate   

bodies of heterogeneous principles4     
#af4 ,this opinion we may reasonably    
suspect to have been propogated1 by     
vanity1 beyond the truth4 ,it is natural
 for those who have raised a  reputation
 by any science1 to exalt themselves as 
endowed by heaven with  peculiar powers1
 or marked out by an extraordinary      
designation for their  profession3 and  
to fright competitors away by           
representing the  difficulties with     
which they must contend1 and the        
necessity of  qualities which are       
supposed to be not generally conferred1 
and which no  man can know1 but by      
experience1 whether he enjoys4    #ag4  
,to this discouragement it may possibly 
be answered1 that since a  genius1      
whatever it may be1 is like fire in the 
flint1 only to be  produced by collision
 with a proper subject1 it is the       
business of every  man to try whether   
his faculties may not happily co-operate
 with his  desires2 and since they whose
 proficiency he admires1 knew their own 

force only by the event1 he needs but   
engage in the same undertaking1  with   
equal spirit1 and may reasonably hope   
for equal success4    #ah4 ,there is    
another species of false intelligence1  
given by those who  profess to shew the 
way to the summit of knowledge1 of equal
 tendency to  depress the mind with     
false distrust of itself1 and weaken it 
by  needless solicitude and dejection4  
,when a scholar whom they desire to     
animate1 consults them at his entrance  
on some new study1 it is common  to make
 flattering representations of its      
pleasantness and facility4    #ai4 ,thus
 they generally attain one of the two   
ends almost equally  desirable2 they    
either incite his industry by elevating 
his hopes1 or  produce a high opinion of
 their own abilities1 since they are    
supposed  to relate only what they have 
found1 and to have proceeded with no    
less  ease than they have promised to   
their followers4    #bj4 ,the student1  
enflamed by this encouragement1 sets    

forward in the new  path1 and proceeds a
 few steps with great alacrity2 but he  
soon finds  asperities and intricacies  
of which he has not been forewarned1 and
  imagining that none ever were so      
entangled or fatigued before him1 sinks 
suddenly into despair1 and desists as   
from an expedition in which fate        
opposes him4 ,thus his terrors are      
multiplied by his hopes1 and he is      
defeated without resistance1 because he 
had no expectation of an enemy4    #ba4 
,of these treacherous instructors1 the  
one destroys industry1 by  declaring    
that industry is vain1 the other by     
representing it as  needless3 the one   
cuts away the root of hope1 the other   
raises it only  to be blasted4 ,the one 
confines his pupil to the shore1 by     
telling him  that his wreck is certain2 
the other sends him to sea without      
preparing  him for tempests4    #bb4    
,false hopes and false terrors1 are     
equally to be avoided4 ,every man  who  
proposes to grow eminent by learning1   

should carry in his mind1 at  once1 the 
difficulty of excellence1 and the force 
of industry2 and  remember that fame is 
not conferred but as the recommence of  
labour1 and  that labour1 vigorously    
continued1 has not often failed of its  
reward4          ,fortitude founded upon
 the fear of ,god4      ,,guardian1 ,no4
 #afg4    #a4 ,looking over the late    
edition of ,monsieur ,boileau's works1  
,i was  very much pleased with the      
article which he has added to his notes 
on  the translation of ,longinus4 ,he   
there tells us1 that the sublime in     
writing rises either from the nobleness 
of the thought1 the magnificence  of the
 words1 or the harmonious and lively    
turn of the phrase1 and that  the       
perfect sublime rises from all these    
three in conjunction together4  ,he     
produces an instance of this perfect    
sublime in four verses from the         
,athalia of ,monsieur ,racine4    #b4   
,when ,abner1 one of the chief officers 
of the court1 represents to  ,joad the  

high priest1 that the queen was incensed
 against him1 the  high priest1 not in  
the least terrified at the news1 returns
 this  answer3        ,celui que met un 
frein  la fureur des flots1      ,scait 
aussi des mchans arrter les complots2   
,soumis avecs respect  sa volutt sainte1
      ,je crains ,dieu1 cher ,abner1    
n'ai point d'autre crainte4    #c4 ',he 
who ruleth the raging of the sea1 knows 
also how to check the  designs of the   
ungodly4 ,i submit myself with reverence
 to his holy will4  ,o ,abner6 ,i fear  
my ,god1 and ,i fear none but him4'     
,such a thought gives  no less a        
solemnity to human nature1 than it does 
to good writing4    #d4 ,this religious 
fear1 when it is produced by just       
apprehensions of a  divine power1       
naturally overlooks all human greatness 
that stands in  competition with it1 and
 extinguishes every other terror that   
can settle  itself in the heart of a    
man3 it lessens and contracts the figure
 of the  most exalted person3 it disarms

 the tyrant and executioner1 and        
represents to our minds the most enraged
 and the most powerful as  altogether   
harmless and impotent4    #e4 ,there is 
no true fortitude which is not founded  
upon this fear1 as  there is no other   
principle of so settled and fixed a     
nature4 ,courage  that grows from       
constitution1 very often forsakes a man 
when he has  occasion for it2 and when  
it is only a kind of instinct in the    
soul1  breaks out on all occasions      
without judgment or discretion4 ,that   
courage  which proceeds from a sense of 
our duty1 and from a fear of offending  
him that made us1 acts always in an     
uniform manner1 and according to the    
dictates of right reason4    #f4 ,what  
can a man fear who takes care in all his
 actions to please a  ,being that is    
omnipotent2 a ,being who is able to     
crush all his  adversaries2 a ,being    
that can divert any misfortune from     
befalling him1  or turn any such        
misfortune to his advantage8 ,the person

 who lives with  this constant and      
habitual regard to the great            
superintendant of the  world1 is indeed 
sure that no real evil can come into his
 lot4    #g4 ,blessings may appear under
 the shape of pains1 losses and         
disappointments1 but let him have       
patience1 and he will see them in  their
 proper figures4 ,dangers may threaten  
him1 but he may rest  satisfied that    
they will either not reach him1 or that 
if they do1 they  will be the           
instruments of good to him4 ,in short1  
he may lock upon all  crosses and       
accidents1 sufferings and afflictions1  
as means which are  made use of to bring
 him to happiness4    #h4 ,this is even 
the worst of that man's condition whose 
mind is  possessed with the habitual    
fear of which ,i am now speaking4 ,but  
it very  often happens1 that those which
 appear evils in our own eyes1 appear   
also as such to him who has human nature
 under his care1 in which case  they are
 certainly averted from the person who  

has made himself1 by this  virtue1 an   
object of divine favour4    #i4         
,histories are full of instances of this
 nature1 where men of virtue  have had  
extraordinary escapes out of such       
dangers as have enclosed  them1 and     
which have seemed inevitable4    #aj4   
,there is no example of this kind in    
,pagan history which more pleases  me   
than that which is recorded in the life 
of ,timoleon4 ,this  extraordinary man  
was famous for referring all his        
successes to  ,providence4 ,cornelius   
,nepos acquaints us that he had in his  
house a  private chapel in which he used
 to pay his devotions to the goddess who
  represented ,providence among the     
heathens4 ,i think no man was ever more 
distinguished by the ,deity1 whom he    
blindly worshipped1 than the great      
person ,i am speaking of1 in several    
occurrences of his life1 but            
particularly in the following one1 which
 ,i shall relate out of  ,plutarch4     
#aa4 ,three persons had entered into a  

conspiracy to assassinate  ,timoleon as 
he was offering up his devotions in a   
certain temple4 ,in  order to it they   
took their several stands in the most   
convenient places  for their purpose4   
,as they were waiting for an opportunity
 to put their  design in execution1 a   
stranger having observed one of the     
conspirators1  fell upon him and slew   
him4 ,upon which the other two1 thinking
 their  plot had been discovered1 threw 
themselves at ,timoleon's feet1 and     
confessed the whole matter4    #ab4     
,this stranger1 upon examination1 was   
found to have understood  nothing of the
 intended assassination1 but having     
several years before  had a brother     
killed by the conspirator1 whom he here 
put to death1 and  having till now      
sought in vain for an opportunity of    
revenge1 he chanced  to meet the        
murderer in the temple1 who had planted 
himself there for  the above-mentioned  
purpose4    #ac4 ,plutarch cannot       
forbear on this occasion1 speaking with 

a kind of  rapture on the schemes of    
,providence1 which1 in this particular1 
had so  contrived it that the stranger  
should1 for so great a space of time1 be
  debarred the means of doing justice to
 his brother1 till by the same  blow    
that revenged the death of one innocent 
man1 he preserved the life  of another4 
#ad4 ,for my own part1 ,i cannot wonder 
that a man of ,timoleon's religion      
should have this intrepidity and        
firmness of mind1 or that he should be  
distinguished by such a deliverance as  
,i have here related4          ,the     
folly of youthful ,extravagance4        
,,rambler1 ,no4 #bf4      #a4 ,it is    
usual for men1 engaged in the same      
pursuits1 to be inquisitive  after the  
conduct and fortune of each other2 and  
therefore1 ,i suppose it  will not be   
unpleasing to you to read an account of 
the various changes  which have appeared
 in part of a life devoted to           
literature4 ,my  narrative will not     
exhibit any great variety of events1 or 

extraordinary  revolutions2 but may     
perhaps be not less useful1 because ,i  
shall relate  nothing which is not      
likely to happen to a thousand others4  
#b4 ,i was born heir to a very small    
fortune1 and left by my father1 whom  ,i
 cannot remember1 to the care of an     
uncle4 ,he having no children1  always  
treated me as his son1 and finding in me
 those qualities which  old men easily  
discover in sprightly children when they
 happen to love  them1 declared that a  
genius like mine should never be lost   
for want of  cultivation4    #c4 ,he    
therefore placed me for the usual time  
at a great school1 and then  sent me to 
the university1 with a larger allowance 
than my own patrimony  would have       
afforded1 that ,i might not keep mean   
company1 but learn to  become my dignity
 when ,i should be made ,lord           
,chancellor1 which he often  lamented   
that the increase of his infirmities was
 very likely to  preclude him from      
seeing4    #d4 ,this exuberance of money

 displayed itself in gaiety of          
appearance1  and wantonness of expence1 
and introduced me to the acquaintance of
  those whom the same superfluity of    
fortune had betrayed to the same        
licence and ostentation3 young heirs who
 pleased themselves with a  remark very 
frequently in their mouths1 that though 
they were sent by  their fathers to the 
university1 they were not under the     
necessity of  living by their learning4 
#e4 ,among men of this class ,i easily  
obtained the reputation of a great      
genius1 and was persuaded that1 with    
such liveliness of imagination1 and     
delicacy of sentiment1 ,i should never  
be able to submit to the drudgery  of   
the law4    #f4 ,i therefore gave myself
 wholly to the more airy and elegant    
parts of  learning1 and was often so    
much elated with my superiority to the  
youths  with whom ,i conversed1 that ,i 
began to listen with great attention1 to
  those who recommended to me a wider   
and more conspicuous theatre2 and  was  

particularly touched with an observation
 made by one of my friends1  that it was
 not by lingering in the university that
 ,prior became  ambassador1 or ,addison 
a secretary of state4    #g4 ,this      
desire was hourly increased by the      
solicitation of my  companions1 who     
removing one by one to ,london1 as the  
caprice of their  relations allowed     
them1 or the legal dismission from the  
hands of their  guardian put it in their
 power1 never failed to send an account 
of the  beauty and felicity of the new  
world1 and to remonstrate how much was  
lost by every hour's continuance in a   
place of retirement and restraint4      
#h4 ,my uncle1 in the mean time1        
frequently harrassed me with monitory   
letters1 which ,i sometimes neglected to
 open for a week after ,i received      
them1 and generally read in a tavern1   
with such comments as ,i might show  how
 much ,i was superior to instruction or 
advice4 ,i could not but  wonder1 how a 
man confined to the country and         

unacquainted with the  present system of
 things1 should imagine himself         
qualified to instruct a  rising genius1 
born to give laws to the age1 refine its
 state1 and  multiply its pleasures4    
#i4 ,the postman1 however1 still        
continued to bring me new remonstrances2
  for my uncle was very little depressed
 by the ridicule and reproach  which he 
never heard4 ,but men of parts have     
quick resentments2 it was  impossible to
 bear his usurpations for ever2 and ,i  
resolved1 once for  all1 to make him an 
example to those who imagine themselves 
wise because  they are old1 and to teach
 young men1 who are too tame under      
representation1 in what manner          
grey-bearded insolence ought to be      
treated4    #aj4 ,i therefore one       
evening took my pen in hand1 and after  
having  animated myself with a catch1   
wrote a general answer to all his       
precepts1 with such vivacity of turn1   
such elegance of irony1 and such        
asperity of sarcasm1 that ,i convulsed a

 large company with universal  laughter1
 disturbing the neighbourhood with      
vociferations of applause1  and five    
days afterwards was answered1 that ,i   
must be content to live  upon my own    
estate4    #aa4 ,this contraction of my 
income gave me no disturbance1 for a    
genius  like mine was out of the reach  
of want4 ,i had friends that would be   
proud to open their purses at my call1  
and prospects of such advancement  as   
would soon reconcile my uncle1 whom1    
upon mature deliberation1 ,i  resolved  
to receive into favour1 without         
insisting on any acknowledgment  of his 
offence1 when the splendor of my        
condition should induce him to  wish for
 my countenance4    #ab4 ,i therefore   
went up to ,london before ,i had shewn  
the alteration of  my condition1 by any 
abatement of my way of living1 and was  
received by  all my academical          
acquaintance with triumph and           
congratulation4 ,i was  immediately     
introduced among the wits and men of    

spirit2 and1 in a short  time1 had      
divested myself of all my scholar's     
gravity1 and obtained the  reputation of
 a pretty fellow4    #ac4 ,you will     
easily believe that ,i had no great     
knowledge of the world2  yet ,i have    
been hindered by the general            
disinclination every man feels  to      
confess poverty1 from telling to any one
 the resolution of my uncle1  and some  
time subsisted upon the stock of money  
which ,i had brought with  me1 and      
contributed my share as before to all   
our entertainments4 ,but my  pocket was 
soon emptied1 and ,i was obliged to ask 
my friends for a small  sum4    #ad4    
,this was a favour which we had often   
reciprocally received from one  another1
 they supposed my wants only accidental1
 and therefore willingly  supplied them4
 ,in a short time1 ,i found a necessity 
of asking again1 and  was again treated 
with the same civility1 but the third   
time they began  to wonder what that old
 rogue my uncle could mean by sending a 

gentleman  to town without money2 and   
when they gave me what ,i asked for1    
advised  me to stipulate for more       
regular remittances4    #ae4 ,this      
somewhat disturbed my dream of constant 
affluence1 but ,i was  three days after 
completely awaked2 for entering the     
tavern1 where we  met every evening1 ,i 
found the waiters remitted their        
complaisance1 and  instead of contending
 to light me up stairs1 suffered me to  
wait for  some minutes by the bar4      
#af4 ,when ,i came to my company ,i     
found them unusually grave and formal1  
and one of them took a hint to turn the 
conversation upon the misconduct  of    
young men1 and enlarged upon the folly  
of frequenting the company of  men of   
fortune1 without being able to support  
the expence2 an  observation which the  
rest contributed either to enforce by   
repetition1  or to illustrate by        
examples4 ,only one of them tried to    
divert the  discourse1 and endeavoured  
to direct my attention to remote        

questions1  and common topics4    #ag4  
,a man guilty of poverty easily believes
 himself suspected4 ,i went1  however1  
next morning to breakfast with him1 who 
appeared ignorant of  the drift of the  
conversation1 and by a series of        
enquiries1 drawing  still nearer to the 
point1 prevailed on him1 not1 perhaps1  
much against  his will1 to inform me1   
that ,mr4 ,dash1 whose father was a     
wealthy  attorney near my native place1 
had the morning before received an      
account of my uncle's resentment1 and   
communicated his intelligence with  the 
utmost industry of groveling insolence4 
#ah4 ,it was no longer practicable to   
consort with my former friends1  unless 
,i would be content to be used as an    
inferior guest1 who was to  pay for his 
wine by mirth and flattery2 a character 
which1 if ,i could  not escape it1 ,i   
resolved to endure only among those who 
had never known  me in the pride of     
plenty4    #ai4 ,i changed my lodgings1 
and frequented the coffee houses in a   

different region of the town2 where ,i  
was very quickly distinguished by       
several young gentlemen of high birth1  
and large estates1 and began  again to  
amuse my imagination with hopes of      
preferment1 though not quite  so        
confidently as when ,i had less         
experience4    #bj4 ,the first great    
conquest which this new scene enabled me
 to gain  over myself was1 when ,i      
submitted to confess to a party1 who    
invited me  to an expensive diversion1  
that my revenues were not equal to such 
golden pleasures2 they would not suffer 
me1 however1 to stay behind1 and  with  
great reluctance ,i yielded to be       
treated4 ,i took that opportunity  of   
recommending myself to some office or   
employment1 which they  unanimously     
promised to procure me by their joint   
interest4    #ba4 ,i had now entered    
into a state of dependence1 and had     
hopes1 or  fears1 from almost every man 
,i saw4 ,if it be unhappy to have one   
patron1  what is his misery who has so  

many8 ,i was obliged to comply with a   
thousand caprices1 to concur in a       
thousand follies1 and to countenance a  
thousand errors4 ,i endured innumerable 
mortifications1 if not from  cruelty1 at
 least from negligence1 which will creep
 in upon the kindest  and most delicate 
minds1 when they converse without the   
mutual awe of  equal condition4    #bb4 
,i found the spirit and vigour of       
liberty every moment sinking in me1  and
 a servile fear of displeasing1 stealing
 by degrees upon all my  behaviour1 till
 no word1 or look1 or action1 was my    
own4 ,as the  solicitude to please      
increased1 the power of pleasing grew   
less1 and ,i  was always clouded with   
diffidence where it was most my interest
 and  wish to shine4    #bc4 ,my        
patrons1 considering me as belonging to 
the community1 and1  therefore1 not the 
charge of any particular person1 made no
 scruple of  neglecting any opportunity 
of promoting me1 which every one thought
 more  properly the business of another4

 ,an account of my expectations and     
disappointments1 and the succeeding     
vicissitudes of my life1 ,i shall  give 
you in my following letter1 which will  
be1 ,i hope1 of use to shew  how ill he 
forms his schemes1 who expects happiness
 without freedom4    ,i am1 c4          
,the ,misery of depending upon the      
,great4    ,,rambler1 ,,no4 #bg4        
#a4 ,as it is natural for every man to  
think himself of importance1 your       
knowledge of the world will incline you 
to forgive me1 if ,i imagine your       
curiosity so much excited by the former 
part of my narration1 as to make  you   
desire that ,i should proceed without   
any unnecessary arts of  connection4 ,i 
shall1 therefore1 not keep you longer in
 such suspence1 as  perhaps my          
performance may not compensate4    #b4  
,in the gay company with which ,i was   
now united1 ,i found those  allurements 
and delights1 which the friendship of   
young men always  affords2 there was    
that openness which naturally produced  

confidence1  and that ardour of         
profession which excited hope4    #c4   
,when our hearts were dilated with      
merriment1 promises were poured out     
with unlimited profusion1 and life and  
fortune were but a scanty  sacrifice to 
friendship2 but when the hour came1 at  
which any effort was  to be made1 ,i had
 generally the vexation to find1 that my
 interest  weighed nothing against the  
slightest amusement1 and that every     
petty  avocation was found a sufficient 
plea for continuing me in uncertainty   
and want4    #d4 ,their kindness was    
indeed sincere1 when they promised they 
had no  intention to deceive2 but the   
same juvenile warmth which kindled their
  benevolence1 gave force in the same   
proportion to every other passion1  and 
,i was forgotten as soon as any new     
pleasure seized on their  attention4    
#e4 ,vagrio told me one evening1 that   
all my perplexities should soon be  at  
an end1 and desired me1 from that       
instant1 to throw upon him all care  of 

my fortune1 for a post of considerable  
value was that day become  vacant1 and  
he knew his interest sufficient to      
procure it in the  morning4 ,he desired 
me to call on him early1 that he might  
be dressed  soon enough to wait upon the
 minister before any other application  
should be made4    #f4 ,i came as he    
appointed1 with all the flame of        
gratitude1 and was told  by his servant1
 that having found at his lodgings1 when
 he came home1 an  acquaintance who was 
going to travel1 he had been persuaded  
to accompany  him to ,dover1 and that   
they had taken post-horses two hours    
before day4    #g4 ,i was once very near
 to preferment by the kindness of       
,charinus2  who1 at my request1 went to 
beg a place1 which he thought me likely 
to  fill with great reputation1 and in  
which ,i should have many  opportunities
 of promoting his interest in return2   
and he pleased  himself with imagining  
the mutual benefits that we should      
confer1 and  the advances that we should

 make by our united strength4    #h4    
,away1 therefore1 he went1 equally warm 
with friendship and ambition1  and left 
me to prepare acknowledgements against  
his return4 ,at length he  came back1   
and told me that he had met in his way a
 party going to  breakfast in the       
country1 that the ladies importuned him 
too much to be  refused1 and that having
 passed the morning with them1 he was   
come back  to dress himself for a ball1 
to which he was invited for the evening4
    #i4 ,i have suffered several        
disappointments from taylors and        
perriwig-makers1 who1 by neglecting to  
perform their work1 withheld my  patrons
 from court1 and once failed of an      
establishment for life by the  delay of 
a servant1 sent to a neighbouring shop  
to replenish a  snuff-box4    #aj4 ,at  
last ,i thought my solicitude at an end1
 for an office fell into  the gift of   
,hippodamus's father1 who being then in 
the country1 could  not very speedily   
fill it1 and whose fondness would not   

have suffered  him to refuse his son a  
less reasonable request4 ,hippodamus    
therefore  set forward with great       
expedition1 and ,i expected every hour  
an account  of his success4    #aa4 ,a  
long time ,i waited without any         
intelligence1 but at last received  a   
letter from ,newmarket1 by which ,i was 
informed1 that the races were  begun1   
and ,i knew the vehemence of his passion
 too well to imagine that  he could     
refuse himself his favourite amusement4 
#ab4 ,you will not wonder that ,i was at
 last weary of the patronage of  young  
men1 especially as ,i found them not    
generally to promise much  greater      
fidelity as they advanced in life2 for  
,i observed that what they  gained in   
steadiness1 they lost in benevolence1   
and grew colder to my  interest as they 
became more diligent to promote their   
own4    #ac4 ,i was convinced that their
 liberality was only profuseness1 that1 
as  chance directed1 they were equally  
generous to vice and virtue1 that  they 

were warm1 but because they were        
thoughtless1 and counted the  support of
 a friend only amongst other            
gratifications of passion4    #ad4 ,my  
resolution was now to ingratiate myself 
with men whose reputation  was          
established1 whose high stations enabled
 them to prefer me1 and  whose age      
exempted them from sudden changes of    
inclination2 ,i was  considered as a man
 of parts1 and therefore easily found   
admission to  the table of ,hilarius1   
the celebrated orator1 renowned equally 
for the  extent of his knowledge1 the   
elegance of his diction1 and the        
acuteness  of his wit4    #ae4 ,hilarius
 received me with an appearance of great
 satisfaction1  produced to me all his  
friends1 and directed to me that part of
 his  discourse in which he most        
endeavoured to display his imagination4 
,i had  now learned my own interest     
enough to supply him with opportunities 
for  smart remarks and gay sallies1     
which ,i never failed to echo and       

applaud4    #af4 ,thus ,i was gaining   
every hour on his affections1 till1     
unfortunately1 when the assembly was    
more splendid than usual1 his  desire of
 admiration prompted him to turn        
raillery upon me4 ,i bore it  for some  
time with great submission1 and success 
encouraged him to  redouble his attacks2
 at last my vanity prevailed over my    
prudence2 ,i  retorted his irony with   
such spirit1 that ,hilarius1            
unaccustomed to  resistance1 was        
disconcerted1 and soon found means of   
convincing me1  that his purpose was not
 to encourage a rival1 but to foster a  
parasite4    #ag4 ,i was then taken into
 the familiarity of ,argurio1 a nobleman
  eminent for judgment and criticism4   
,he had contributed to my reputation1   
by the praises which he had often       
bestowed upon my writings1 in which he  
owned that there were proofs of a genius
 that might rise high to degrees  of    
excellence1 when time1 or information1  
had reduced its exuberance4    #ah4 ,he 

therefore required me to consult him    
before the publication of  any new      
performance1 and commonly proposed      
innumerable alterations1  without1      
sufficient attention to the general     
design1 or regard to my  form of style1 
and mode of imagination4    #ai4 ,but   
these corrections he never failed to    
press as indispensably  necessary1 and  
thought the least delay of compliance an
 act of  rebellion4 ,the pride of an    
author made this treatment insufferable1
 and  ,i thought any tyranny easier to  
be borne than that which took from me   
the use of my understanding4    #bj4 ,my
 next patron was ,eutyches the          
statesman1 who was wholly engaged  in   
public affairs1 and seemed to have no   
ambition but to be powerful and  rich4  
,i found his favour more permanent than 
that of the others1 for  there was a    
certain price at which it might be      
bought2 he allowed  nothing to humour or
 affection1 but was always ready to pay 
liberally  for the service he required4 

#ba4 ,his demands were1 indeed1 very    
often such as virtue could not easily   
consent to gratify2 but virtue is not to
 be consulted when men are to  raise    
their fortunes by favour of the great4  
,his measures were censured2  ,i wrote  
in his defence1 and was recompensed with
 a place1 of which the  profits were    
never received by me without the pangs  
of remembering that  they were the      
reward of wickedness2 a reward which    
nothing but that  necessity1 which the  
consumption of my little estate in these
 wild  pursuits had brought upon me1    
hindered me from throwing back in the   
face  of my corruptor4    #bb4 ,at this 
time my uncle died without a will1 and  
,i became heir to a  small fortune4 ,i  
had resolution to throw off the splendor
 which  reproached me to myself1 and    
retire to an humbler state1 in which ,i 
am  now endeavouring to recover the     
dignity of virtue1 and hope to make some
  reparation for my crimes and follies1 
by informing others who may be led      

after the same pageants1 that they are  
about to engage in a course of  life1 in
 which they are to purchase1 by a       
thousand miseries1 the  privilege of    
repentance4    ,i am1 c4    ,,eubulus4  
,what it is to see the ,world2 the      
,story of ,melissa4    ,,rambler1 ,no4  
#ge4      #a4 ,the diligence with which 
you endeavour to cultivate the knowledge
 of  nature1 manners1 and life1 will    
perhaps incline you to pay some regard  
to the observations of one who has been 
taught to know mankind by  unwelcome    
information1 and whose opinions are the 
result1 not of  solitary conjectures1   
but of practice and experience4    #b4  
,i was born to a large fortune1 and bred
 to the knowledge of those  arts which  
are supposed to accomplish the mind1 and
 adorn the person of  a woman4 ,to these
 attainments1 which custom and education
 almost forced  upon me1 ,i added some  
voluntary acquisitions by the use of    
books and the  conversation of that     
species of men whom the ladies generally

 mention  with terror and aversion under
 the name of scholars1 but whom ,i have 
found a harmless and inoffensive order  
of beings1 not no much wiser than       
ourselves1 but that they may receive as 
well as communicate knowledge1  and more
 inclined to degrade their own character
 by cowardly submission1  than to       
overbear or oppress us with their       
learning or their wit4    #c4 ,from     
these men1 however1 if they are by kind 
treatment encouraged to  talk1 something
 may be gained1 which1 embelished with  
elegancy1 and  softened by modesty1 will
 always add dignity and value to female 
conversation2 and from my acquaintance  
with the bookish part of the  world1 ,i 
derived many principles of judgment and 
maxims of prudence1 by  which ,i was    
enabled to draw upon myself the general 
regard in every  place of concourse or  
pleasure4    #d4 ,my opinion was the    
great rule of approbation1 my remarks   
were  remembered by those who desired   
the second degree of fame1 my mein was  

studied1 my dress imitated1 my letters  
were handed from one family to  another1
 and read by those who copied them as   
sent to themselves2 my  visits were     
solicited as honours1 and multitudes    
boasted of an intimacy  with ,melissa1  
who had only seen me by accident1 whose 
familiarity had  never proceeded beyond 
the exchange of a compliment1 or return 
of a  courtesy4    #e4 ,i shall make no 
scruple of confessing that ,i was       
pleased with this  universal veneration1
 because ,i always considered it as paid
 to my  intrinsic qualities and         
inseparable merit1 and very easily      
persuaded  myself1 that fortune had no  
part in my superiority4    #f4 ,when ,i 
looked upon my glass1 ,i saw youth and  
beauty1 with health that  might give me 
reason to hope their continuance3 when  
,i examined my mind1  ,i found some     
strength of judgment and fertility of   
fancy1 and was told  that every action  
was grace1 and that every accent was    
persuasion4    #g4 ,in this manner my   

life passed like a continual triumph    
amidst  acclamations1 and envy1 and     
courtship1 and caresses3 to please      
,melissa  was the general ambition1 and 
every stratagem of artful flattery was  
practised upon me4 ,to be flattered is  
grateful1 even when we know that  our   
praises are not believed by those who   
pronounce them3 for they prove  at least
 our power1 and shew that our favour is 
valued1 since it is  purchased by the   
meanness of falsehood4    #h4 ,but      
perhaps the flatterer is not often      
detected1 for an honest mind  is not apt
 to suspect1 and no one exerts the power
 of discernment with  much vigour when  
self-love favours the deceit4    #i4    
,the number of adorers1 and the         
perpetual distraction of my thoughts  by
 new schemes of pleasures1 prevented me 
from listening to any of those  who     
crowd in multitudes to give girls       
advice1 and kept me unmarried and       
unengaged to my twenty-seventh year1    
when1 as ,i was towering in all the     

pride of uncontested excellency1 with a 
face yet little impaired1 and a  mind   
hourly improving1 the failure of a fund1
 in which my money was  placed1 reduced 
me to a frugal competency1 which allowed
 a little  beyond neatness and          
independence4    #aj4 ,i bore the       
diminution of my riches without any     
outrages of sorrow1  or pusillanimity of
 dejection4 ,indeed ,i did not know how 
much ,i had  lost1 for having always    
heard and thought more of my wit and    
beauty1  than of my fortune1 it did not 
suddenly enter my imagination1 that     
,melissa could sink beneath her         
established rank1 while her form and her
  mind continued the same2 that she     
should cease to raise admiration1 but   
by ceasing to deserve it1 or feel any   
stroke but from the hand of time4       
#aa4 ,it was in my power to have        
concealed the loss1 and to have married1
  by continuing the same appearance1    
with all the credit of my original      
fortune2 but ,i was not so far sunk in  

my esteem1 as to submit to the  baseness
 of fraud1 or to desire any other       
recommendation than sense and  virtue4  
#ab4 ,i therefore dismissed my equipage1
 sold those ornaments which were  become
 unsuitable to my new condition1 and    
appeared among those with  whom ,i used 
to converse with less glitter1 but with 
equal spirit4    #ac4 ,i found myself   
received at every visit with sorrow     
beyond what is  naturally felt for      
calamities in which we have no part1 and
 was  entertained with condolence and   
consolation so frequently repeated1 that
  my friends plainly consulted rather   
their own gratification1 than my        
relief4    #ad4 ,some from that time    
refused my acquaintance1 and forebore   
without  any provocation1 to repay my   
visits2 some visited me1 but after a    
longer  interval than usual1 and every  
return was still with more delay2 nor   
did  any of my female acquaintances fail
 to introduce the mention of my         
misfortunes1 to compare my present and  

former condition1 to tell me how  much  
it must trouble me to want that splendor
 which ,i became so well2 to  look at   
pleasures1 which ,i had formerly        
enjoyed1 and to sink to a level  with   
those by whom ,i had been considered as 
moving in a higher sphere1  and who had 
hitherto approached me with reverence   
and submission1 which  ,i was now no    
longer to expect4    #ae4 ,observations 
like these are commonly nothing better  
than covert  insults1 which serve to    
give vent to the flatulence of pride1   
but they  are now and then imprudently  
uttered by honesty and benevolence1 and 
inflict pain where kindness is intended2
 ,i will1 therefore1 so far  maintain my
 antiquated claim to politeness1 as to  
venture the  establishment of this rule1
 that no one ought to remind another of 
misfortunes of which the sufferer does  
not complain1 and which there are  no   
means proposed of alleviating4    #af4  
,you have no right to excite thoughts   
which necessarily give pain  whenever   

they return1 and which1 perhaps1 might  
not have revived but by  absurd and     
unseasonable compassion4    #ag4 ,my    
endless train of lovers immediately     
withdrew without raising any  emotions4 
,the greater part had indeed always     
professed to court1 as it  is termed    
upon the square1 had enquired my        
fortune1 and offered  settlements2 these
 undoubtedly had a right to retire      
without censure1  since they had openly 
treated for money1 as necessary to their
  happiness1 and who can tell how little
 they wanted any other portion8    #ah4 
,i have always thought the clamours of  
women unreasonable1 who  imagine        
themselves injured1 because the men who 
followed them upon the  supposition of a
 greater fortune1 reject them when they 
are discovered  to have less4 ,i have   
never known any lady1 who did not think 
wealth a  title to some stipulations in 
her favour2 and surely what is claimed  
by  the possession of money1 is justly  
forfeited by its loss4    #ai4 ,she that

 has once demanded a settlement1 has    
allowed the importance  of fortune2 and 
when she cannot shew pecuniary merit1   
why should she  think her cheapner      
obliged to purchase8    #bj4 ,my lovers 
were not all contented with silent      
desertion4 ,some of them  revenged the  
neglect which they had formerly endured 
by wanton and  superfluous insults1 and 
endeavoured to mortify me1 by paying in 
my  presence those civilities to other  
ladies1 which were once devoted only  to
 me4    #ba4 ,but as it had been my rule
 to treat men according to the rank of  
their intellect1 ,i had never suffered  
any one to waste his life in  suspense  
who could have employed it to better    
purpose1 and had therefore  no enemies  
but coxcombs1 whose resentment and      
respect were equally below  my          
consideration4    #bb4 ,the only pain   
which ,i have felt from degradation1 is 
the loss of  that influence which ,i    
have always exerted on the side of      
virtue1 in the  defence of innocence and

 the assertion of truth4 ,i now find my 
opinions  slighted1 my sentiments       
criticised1 and my arguments opposed by 
those  that used to listen to me without
 reply1 and struggle to be first in     
expressing their conviction4    #bc4    
,the female disputants have wholly      
thrown off my authority1 and if ,i      
endeavour to enforce my reasons by an   
appeal to the scholars that happen  to  
be present1 the wretches are certain to 
pay their court by  sacrificing me and  
my system to a finer gown2 and ,i am    
every hour  insulted with contradiction 
by cowards1 who could never find till   
lately1 that ,melissa was liable to     
error4    #bd4 ,there are two persons   
only whom ,i cannot charge with having  
changed  their conduct with my change of
 fortune4 ,one is an old curate1 that   
has  passed his life in the duties of   
his profession1 with great reputation   
for his knowledge and piety2 the other  
is a lieutenant of dragoons4 ,the       
parson made no difficulty in the height 

of my elevation1 to check me  when ,i   
was pert1 and instruct me when ,i       
blundered2 and if there is any          
alteration1 he is now more timorous lest
 his freedom should be thought          
rudeness4    #be4 ,the soldier never    
paid me any particular addresses1 but   
very rigidly  observed all the rules of 
politeness1 which he is now so far from 
relaxing1 that whenever he serves the   
tea1 he obstinately carries me the      
first dish1 in defiance of the frowns   
and whispers of the table4    #bf4      
,this1 ,mr4 ,rambler1 is to see the     
world4 ,it is impossible for those  that
 have only known affluence and          
prosperity1 to judge rightly of         
themselves or others4 ,the rich and the 
powerful live in a perpetual            
masquerade1 in which all about them wear
 borrowed characters2 and we  only      
discover in what estimation we are held1
 when we can no longer give  hopes or   
fears4    ,i am1 c4 ,,melissa4          
,on the ,omniscience and ,omnipresence  

of the ,deity1 together with the        
,immensity of his ,works4      #a4 ,i   
was yesterday about sun-set walking in  
the open fields1 till the  night        
insensibly fell upon me4 ,i at first    
amused myself with all the  richness and
 variety of colours1 which appeared in  
the western parts of  heaven2 in        
proportion as they faded away and went  
out1 several stars and  planets appeared
 one after another1 till the whole      
firmament was in a  glow4 ,the blueness 
of the ther was exceedingly heightened  
and enlivened  by the season of the     
year1 and by the rays of all those      
luminaries that  passed through it4     
#b4 ,the ,galaxy appeared in its most   
beautiful white4 ,to complete the       
scene1 the full moon rose at length in  
that clouded majesty1 which  ,milton    
takes notice of1 and opened to the eye a
 new picture of nature1  which was more 
finely shaded1 and disposed among softer
 lights1 than  that which the sun had   
before discovered to us4    #c4 ,as ,i  

was surveying the moon1 walking in her  
brightness1 and taking  her progress    
among the constellations1 a thought rose
 in me which ,i  believe very often     
perplexes and disturbs men of serious   
and  contemplative natures4 ,david      
himself fell into it in that reflection1
  ,when ,i consider the heavens1 the    
work of thy fingers1 the moon and  stars
 which thou hast ordained2 what is man1 
that thou art mindful of  him1 and the  
son of man1 that thou regardest him6    
#d4 ,in the same manner1 when ,i        
consider that infinite host of stars1   
or1  to speak more philosophically1 of  
suns1 who were then shining upon me1    
with those innumerable sets of planets  
or worlds1 which were moving  round     
their respective suns2 when ,i still    
enlarged the idea1 and  supposed another
 heaven of suns and worlds rising still 
above this which  he had discovered1 and
 these still enlightened by a superior  
firmament  of luminaries1 which are     
planted at so great a distance1 that    

they may  appear to the inhabitants of  
the former as the stars do to us2 in    
short1  while ,i pursued this thought1  
,i could not but reflect on that little 
insignificant figure which ,i myself    
bore amidst the immensity of ,god's     
works4    #e4 ,were the sun1 which      
enlightens this part of the creation1   
with all  the host of planetary worlds  
that move about him1 utterly            
extinguished  and annihilated1 they     
would not be missed1 more than a grain  
of sand  upon the sea-shore4 ,the space 
they possess is so exceedingly little in
  comparison of the whole1 that it would
 scarce make a blank in the  creation4  
,the chasm would be imperceptible to an 
eye that could take in  the whole       
compass of nature1 and pass from one end
 of the creation to  the other2 as it is
 possible there may be such a sense in  
ourselves  hereafter1 or in creatures   
which are at present more exalted than  
ourselves4    #f4 ,we see many stars by 
the help of glasses1 which we do not    

discover  with our naked eyes2 and the  
finer our telescopes are1 the more still
  are our discoveries4 ,huygenius       
carries his thought so far1 that he     
does not think it impossible there may  
be stars whose light is not yet         
travelled down to us1 since their first 
creation4 ,there is no question  but the
 universe has certain bounds set to it2 
but when we consider that  it is the    
work of infinite power1 prompted by     
infinite goodness1 with an  infinite    
space to exert itself in1 how can our   
imagination set any  bounds to it6      
#g4 ,to return1 therefore1 to my first  
thought1 ,i could not but look upon     
myself with secret horror1 as a being   
that was not worth the smallest  regard 
of one who had so great a work under his
 care and  superintendency4 ,i was      
afraid of being overlooked amidst the   
immensity  of nature1 and lost among    
that infinite variety of creatures1     
which in  all probability swarm through 
all these immeasurable regions of       

matter4    ,in order to recover myself  
from this mortifying thought1 ,i        
consider that  it took its rise from    
those narrow conceptions which we are   
apt to  maintain of the divine nature4  
,we ourselves cannot attend to many     
different objects at the same time4 ,if 
we are careful to inspect some  things1 
we must of course neglect others4    #h4
 ,this imperfection which we observe in 
ourselves1 is an imperfection  that     
cleaves in some degree to creatures of  
the highest capacities1 as  they are    
creatures1 that is1 beings of finite and
 limited natures4 ,the  presence of     
every created being is confined to a    
certain measure of  space1 and          
consequently his observation is stinted 
to a certain number  of objects4 ,the   
sphere in which we move1 and act1 and   
understand1 is of  a wider circumference
 to one creature than another1 according
 as we rise  one above another in the   
scale of existence4    #i4 ,but the     
widest of these our spheres has its     

circumference4 ,when1  therefore1 we    
reflect on the divine nature1 we are so 
used and  accustomed to this            
imperfection in ourselves1 that we      
cannot forbear in  some measure         
ascribing it to him in whom there is no 
shadow of  imperfection4 ,our reason    
indeed ascribes that his attributes are 
infinite1 but the poorness of our       
conceptions is such1 that it cannot     
forbear setting bounds to every thing it
 contemplates1 till our reason  comes   
again to our succour1 and throws down   
all those little prejudices  which rise 
in us unawares1 and are natural to the  
mind of man4    #aj4 ,we shall therefore
 utterly extinguish this melancholy     
thought1 of  our being overlooked by our
 ,maker in the multiplicity of his      
works1 and  the infinity of those       
objects among which he seems to be      
incessantly  employed1 if we consider1  
in the first place1 that he is          
omnipresent1  and in the second1 that he
 is omniscient4    ,if we consider him  

in his omnipresence2 his being passes   
through1  actuates and supports the     
whole frame of nature4 ,his creation1   
and every  part of it1 is full of him4  
#aa4 ,there is nothing he has made1 that
 is either so distant1 so little1  or so
 inconsiderable1 which he does not      
essentially inhabit4 ,his  substance is 
within the substance of every being1    
whether material or  immaterial1 and is 
intimately present to it1 as that being 
is to itself4  ,it would be an          
imperfection in him1 were he able to    
remove out of one  place into another1  
or to withdraw himself from any thing he
 has  created1 or from any part of that 
space which is diffused and spread      
abroad to infinity4 ,in short1 to speak 
of him in the language of the old       
philosophers1 ,he is a being whose      
centre is every where1 and his          
circumference no where4    #ab4 ,in the 
second place1 he is omniscient as well  
as omnipresent4 ,his  omniscience1      
indeed1 necessarily and naturally flows 

from his  omnipresence4 ,he cannot but  
be conscious of every motion that arises
 in  the whole material world1 which he 
thus essentially pervades2 and of  every
 thought that is stirring in the        
intellectual world1 to every part  of   
which he is thus intimately united4     
,several moralists have considered  the 
creation as the temple of ,god1 which he
 has built with his own  hands1 and     
which is filled with his presence4      
#ac4 ,others have considered infinite   
space as the receptacle1 or rather  the 
habitation of the ,almighty2 but the    
noblest1 and most exalted way of        
considering this infinite space1 is that
 of ,sir ,isaac ,newton1 who  calls it  
the sensorium of the ,godhead4 ,brutes  
and men have their  sensoria1 or little 
sensoriums1 by which they apprehend the 
presence  and perceive the actions of a 
few objects that lie contiguous to them4
  ,their knowledge and apprehension turn
 within a very narrow circle4 ,but  as  
,god ,almighty cannot but perceive and  

know every thing in which he  resides1  
infinite space gives room to infinite   
knowledge1 and is1 as it  were1 an organ
 to omniscience4    #ad4 ,were the soul 
separate from the body1 and with one    
glance of thought  should start beyond  
the bounds of the creation2 should it   
for millions  of years continue its     
progress through infinite space with the
 same  activity1 it would still find    
itself within the embraces of its       
,creator1  and encompassed round with   
the immensity of the ,godhead4 ,while we
 are in  the body1 he is hot less       
present with us because he is concealed 
from  us4 ,oh that ,i knew where ,i     
might find him6 says ,job4 ,behold ,i go
  forward1 but he is not there2 and     
backward1 but ,i cannot perceive him2   
on the left hand1 where he does work1   
but ,i cannot behold him3 he hideth     
himself on the right hand1 that ,i      
cannot see him4 ,in short1 reason as    
well as revelation assures us1 that he  
cannot be absent from us1               

notwithstanding he is undiscovered by   
us4    #ae4 ,in this consideration of   
,god ,almighty's omnipresence and       
omniscience1 every uncomfortable thought
 vanishes4 ,he cannot but regard  every 
thing that has beings especially such of
 his creatures who fear  they are not   
regarded by him4 ,he is privy to all    
their thoughts1 and to  that anxiety of 
heart in particular1 which is apt to    
trouble them on  this occasion2 for1 as 
it is impossible he should overlook any 
of his  creatures1 so we may be         
confident that he regards1 with an eye  
of mercy1  those who endeavour to       
recommend themselves to his notice1 and 
in  unfeigned humility of heart think   
themselves unworthy that he should be   
mindful of them4          ,motives to   
,piety and ,virtue1 drawn from the      
,omniscience and  ,omnipresence of the  
,deity4    ,,spectator1 ,no4 #ega4      
#a4 ,in your paper of ,friday the #ith  
instant1 you had occasion to consider   
the ubiquity of the ,godhead2 and at the

 same time to shew1 that as he  is      
presented every thing1 he cannot but be 
attentive to every thing1 and  privy to 
all the modes and parts of its          
existence2 or1 in other words1  that his
 omniscience and omnipresence are       
co-existent1 and run together  through  
the whole infinitude of space4    #b4   
,this consideration might furnish us    
with many incentives to devotion1  and  
motives to morality2 but as this subject
 has been handled by several  excellent 
writers1 ,i shall consider it in a light
 wherein ,i have not  seen it placed by 
others4    ,first1 ,how disconsolate is 
the condition of an intellectual being  
who  is thus present with his ,maker1   
but at the same time receives no        
extraordinary benefit or advantage from 
this his presence6    #c4 ,secondly1    
,how deplorable is the condition of an  
intellectual being1  who feels no other 
effects from this his presence1 but such
 as proceed  from divine wrath and      
indignation6    ,thirdly1 ,how happy is 

the condition of that intellectual      
being1 who is  sensible of his ,maker's 
presence from the secret effects of his 
mercy  and loving kindness6    #d4      
first1 ,how disconsolate is the         
condition of an intellectual being  who 
is thus present with his ,maker1 but at 
the same time receives no  extraordinary
 benefit or advantage from this his     
presence6 ,every  particle of matter is 
actuated by this ,almighty ,being which 
passes  through it4 ,the heavens and the
 earth1 the stars and planets1 move1 and
  gravitate by virtue of this great     
principle within them4 ,all the dead    
parts of nature are invigorated by the  
presence of their ,creator1 and  made   
capable of exerting their respective    
qualities4    #e4 ,the several instincts
 in the brute creation do likewise      
operate and  work towards the several   
ends which1 are agreeable to them1 by   
this  divine energy4 ,man only1 who does
 not co-operate with his holy spirit1   
and is unattentive to his presence1     

receives none of these advantages  from 
it1 which are perfective of his nature1 
and necessary to his  well-being4 ,the  
divinity is with him1 and in him1 and   
every where about  him1 but of no       
advantage to him4    #f4 ,it is the same
 thing to a man without religion1 as if 
there were no  ,god in the world4 ,it is
 indeed impossible for an infinite      
,being to  remove1 himself from any of  
his creatures2 but though he cannot     
withdraw his essence from us1 which     
would argue an imperfection in him1  he 
can withdraw from us all the joys and   
consolations of it4 ,his  presence may1 
perhaps1 be necessary to support us in  
our existence2 but  he may leave this   
our existence to itself1 with regard to 
our happiness  or misery4    #g4 ,for1  
in this sense1 he may cast us away from 
his presence1 and take  his holy spirit 
from us4 ,this single consideration one 
would think  sufficient to make us open 
our hearts to all those infusions of joy
 and  gladness which are so near at     

hand1 and ready to be poured in upon us2
  especially when we consider1 secondly1
 the deplorable condition of an         
intellectual being who feels no other   
effects from his ,maker's presence1  but
 such as proceed from divine wrath and  
indignation6    #h4 ,we may assure      
ourselves1 that the great ,author of    
,nature1 will not  always be as one who 
is indifferent to any of his creatures4 
,those who  will not feel him in his    
love1 will be sure at length to feel him
 in his  displeasure4 ,and how dreadful 
is the condition of that creature who is
  only sensible of the being of his     
,creator by what he suffers from him6   
,he is as essentially present in hell as
 in heaven2 but the inhabitants  of     
those accursed places behold him only in
 his wrath1 and shrink within  the      
flames to conceal themselves from him4  
,it is not in the power of  imagination 
to conceive the fearful effects of      
,omnipotence incensed4    #i4 ,but ,i   
shall only consider the wretchedness of 

an intellectual being1  who1 in this    
life1 lies under the displeasure of him1
 that at all times1  and in all places1 
is intimately united with him4 ,he is   
able to disquiet  the soul1 and vex it  
in all its faculties1 ,he can hinder any
 of the  greatest comforts of life from 
refreshing us1 and give an edge to every
  one of its slightest calamities4      
#aj4 ,who then can bear the thought of  
being an outcast from his presence1     
that is1 from the comforts of it1 or of 
feeling it only in its terrors8  how    
pathetic is that expostulation of ,job1 
when for the real trial of  his         
patience1 he was made to look upon      
himself in this deplorable  condition6  
,why hast thou set me as a mark against 
thee so that ,i am  become a burden to  
myself8 ,but thirdly1 how happy is the  
condition of  that intellectual being1  
who is sensible of his ,maker's presence
 from  the secret effects of his mercy  
and loving kindness6    #aa4 ,the       
blessed in heaven behold him face to    

face1 that is1 are as  sensible of his  
presence as we are of the presence of   
any person whom we  look upon with our  
eyes4 ,there is doubtless a faculty in  
spirits1 by  which they apprehend one   
another1 as our senses do material      
objects2 and  there is no question but  
our souls1 when they are disembodied1 or
 placed  in glorified bodies1 will by   
this faculty1 in whatever space they    
reside1 be always sensible of the divine
 presence4    #ab4 ,we who have this    
veil of flesh standing between us and   
the world of  spirits1 must be content  
to know the spirit of ,god is present   
with us1  by the effects which he       
produceth in us4 ,our outward senses are
 too  gross to apprehend him2 we may    
however taste and see how gracious he   
is1  by his influence upon our minds1 by
 those virtuous thoughts which he       
awakens in us1 by those secret comforts 
and refreshments which he  conveys into 
our souls1 and by those ravishing joys  
and inward  satisfactions which are     

perpetually springing up1 and diffusing 
themselves among all the thoughts of    
good men4    #ac4 ,he is lodged in our  
very essence1 and is as a soul within   
the soul  to irradiate its              
understanding1 rectify its will1 purify 
its passions1  and enliven all the      
powers of man4 ,how happy therefore is  
an  intellectual being1 who by prayer   
and meditation1 by virtue and good      
works1 opens this communication between 
,god and his own soul6 ,though the      
whole creation frowns upon him1 and all 
nature looks black about him1 he  has   
his light and support within him1 that  
are able to cheer his mind1  and bear   
him up in the midst of all those horrors
 which encompass him4    #ad4 ,he knows 
that his helper is at hand1 and is      
always nearer to him  than any thing    
else can be1 which is capable of        
annoying or terrifying  him4 ,in the    
midst of calumny or contempt1 he attends
 to that ,being who  whispers better    
things within his soul1 and whom he     

looks upon as his  defender1 his glory  
and the lifter up of his head4 ,in his  
deepest  solitude and retirement1 he    
knows that he is in company with the    
greatest of beings3 and perceives within
 himself such real sensations of  his   
presence1 as are more delightful than   
any thing that can be met with  in the  
conversations of his creatures4    #ae4 
,even in the hour of death1 he considers
 the pains of his  dissolution to be    
nothing else but the breaking down of   
that partition1  which stands betwixt   
his soul and the sight of that ,being   
who is always  present with him1 and is 
about to manifest itself to him in      
fulness of  ,joy4    #af4 ,if we would  
be thus happy and thus sensible of our  
,maker's presence1  from the secret     
effects of his mercy and goodness1 we   
must keep such a  watch over all our    
thoughts1 that1 in the language of the  
scripture1 ,his  soul may have pleasure 
in us4 ,we must take care not to grieve 
his holy  spirit1 and endeavour to make 

the meditations of our hearts always    
acceptable in his sight1 that he may    
delight thus to reside and dwell in  us4
    #ag4 ,the light of nature could     
direct ,seneca to this doctrine in a    
very  remarkable passage among his      
epistles2 ,sacer inest in nobis         
spiritus1  bonorum malorumque custos et 
observator2 et quemadmodum nos illum    
tractamus1 ita et ille nos4 ',there is a
 holy spirit residing in us1 who        
watches and observes both good and evil 
men1 and will treat us after the  same  
manner that we treat him4' ,but ,i shall
 conclude this discourse with  those    
more emphatical words in divine         
revelation3 ,if a man love me1 he  will 
keep my words2 and my father will love  
him1 and we will come unto  him1 and    
make our abode with him4                
,reflections on the third ,heaven4      
,,spectator1 ,no4 #ehj4      #a4 ,i     
considered in my two last letters1 that 
awful and tremendous  subject1 the      
ubiquity or ,omnipresence of the ,divine

 ,being4 ,i have shewn  that he is      
equally present in all places throughout
 the whole extent of  infinite space4   
,this doctrine is so agreeable to       
reason1 that we meet  with it in the    
writings of the enlightened heathens1 as
 ,i might shew at  large1 were it not   
already done by other hands4 ,but though
 the ,deity be  thus essentially present
 through all the immensity of space1    
there is  one part of it in which he    
discovers himself in a most transcendant
 and  visible glory4    #b4 ,this is    
that place which is marked out in       
scripture under the  different          
appellations of ,paradise1 the third    
,heaven1 the throne of  ,god1 and the   
habitation of his glory4 ,it is here    
where the glorified  body of our        
,saviour resides1 and where all the     
celestial hierarchies1  and innumerable 
hosts of angels1 are represented as     
perpetually  surrounding the seat of    
,god with hallelujahs and hymns of      
praise4 ,this  is that presence of ,god 

which some of the divines call his      
glorious1 and  others his majestic      
presence4    #c4 ,he is indeed as       
essentially present in all other places 
as in this2  but it is here where he    
resides in a sensible magnificence1 and 
in the  midst of all these splendors    
which can affect the imagination of     
created  beings4    ,it is very         
remarkable that this opinion of ,god    
,almighty's presence in  heaven1 whether
 discovered by the light of nature1 or  
by a general  tradition from our first  
parents1 prevails among all the nations 
of the  world1 whatsoever different     
notions they entertain of the ,godhead4 
#d4 ,if you look into ,homer1 that is1  
the most ancient of the ,greek  writers1
 you see the ,supreme power seated in   
the heavens1 and  encompassed with      
inferior deities1 among whom the muses  
are represented  as singing incessantly 
about his throne4 ,who does not here see
 the main  strokes and outlines of this 
great truth we are speaking of8    #e4  

,the same doctrine is shadowed out in   
many other heathen authors1  though at  
the same time1 like several other       
revealed truths1 dashed and  adulterated
 with a mixture of fables and human     
inventions4 ,but to pass  over the      
notions of the ,greeks and ,romans1     
those more enlightened  parts of the    
pagan world1 we find there is scarce a  
people among the  late discovered       
nations who are not trained up in an    
opinion that heaven  is the habitation  
of the divinity whom they worship4      
#f4 ,as in ,solomon's temple there was  
the ,sanctum ,sanctorum1 in which  a    
visible glory appeared among the figures
 of the cherubims1 and into  which none 
but the high-priest himself was         
permitted to enter1 after  having made  
an atonement for the sins of the people2
 so1 if we consider  this whole creation
 as one great temple1 there is in it the
 ,holy of  ,holies1 into which the      
high-priest of our salvation entered1   
and took  his place among angels and    

archangels1 after having made a         
propitiation  for the sins of mankind4  
#g4 ,with how much skill must the throne
 of ,god be erected8 ,with what         
glorious designs is that habitation     
beautified1 which is contrived and      
built by him who inspired ,hiram with   
wisdom8 ,how great must be the  majesty 
of that place1 where the whole art of   
creation has been  employed1 and where  
,god has chosen to shew himself in the  
most  magnificent manner8 ,what must be 
the architecture of infinite power      
under the direction of divine wisdom8 ,a
 spirit cannot but be transported  after
 an ineffable manner with the sight of  
those objects1 which were  made to      
affect him by that being who knows the  
inward frame of a soul1  and how to     
please and ravish it in all its most    
secret powers and  faculties4    #h4 ,it
 is to this majestic presence of ,god we
 may apply those beautiful  expressions 
in holy writ3 ,behold even to the moon1 
and it shineth not2  yea1 the stars are 

not pure in his sight4 ,the light of the
 sun1 and all  the glories of the world 
in which we live1 are but as weak and   
sickly  glimmerings1 or rather darkness 
itself1 in comparison of those splendors
  which encompass the throne of ,god4   
#i4 ,as the glory of this place is      
transcendent beyond imagination1 so     
probably is the extent of it4 ,there is 
light behind light1 and glory  within   
glory4 ,how far that space may reach1 in
 which ,god thus appears in  perfect    
majesty1 we cannot possibly conceive4   
,though it is not infinite1  it may be  
indefinite2 and though not immeasurable 
in itself1 it may be  so with regard to 
any created eye or imagination4 ,if he  
has made these  lower regions of matter 
so inconceivably wide and magnificent   
for the  habitation of mortal and       
perishable beings1 how great may we     
suppose the  courts of his house to be1 
where he makes his residence in a more  
especial manner1 and displays himself in
 the fulness of his glory1 among  an    

innumerable company of angels1 and      
spirits of just men made perfect6       
#aj4 ,this is certain1 that our         
imaginations cannot be raised too high1 
when we think on a place where          
omnipotence and omniscience have so     
signally exerted themselves1 because    
that they are able to produce a  scene  
infinitely more great and glorious than 
what we are able to  imagine4    #aa4   
,it is not impossible but at the        
consummation of all things1 these       
outward apartments of nature1 which are 
now suited to those beings who  inhabit 
them1 may be taken in and added to that 
glorious place of which  ,i am here     
speaking2 and by that means made a      
proper habitation for  beings who are   
exempt from mortality1 and cleared of   
their  imperfections3 for so the        
scripture seems to intimate1 when it    
speaks of  new heavens and of a new     
earth1 wherein dwelleth righteousness4  
#ab4 ,i have only considered this       
glorious place with regard to the sight 

and imagination1 though it is highly    
probable1 that our other senses may     
here likewise enjoy then highest        
gratifications4 ,there is nothing which 
more ravishes and transports the soul1  
than harmony2 and we have great  reason 
to believe1 from the description of this
 place in ,holy scripture1  that this is
 one of the entertainments of it4       
#ac4 ,and if the soul of man can be so  
wonderfully affected with those  strains
 of music1 which human art is capable of
 producing1 how much more  will it be   
raised and elevated by those1 in which  
is exerted the whole  power of harmony6 
,the senses are faculties of the human  
soul1 though  they cannot be employed1  
during this our vital union1 without    
proper  instruments in the body4    #ad4
 ,why therefore should we exclude the   
satisfaction of these faculties1  which 
we find by experience are inlets of     
great pleasure to the soul1  from among 
these entertainments which are to make  
our happiness  hereafter8 ,why should we

 suppose that our hearing and seeing    
will not be  gratified by those objects 
which are most agreeable to them1 and   
which  they cannot meet with in those   
lower regions of nature2 objects1 which 
neither eye hath seen1 nor ear heard1   
nor can it enter into the heart of  man 
to conceive6    #ae4 ,i knew a man in   
,christ 7says ,st4 ,paul1 speaking of   
himself7 above  fourteen years ago      
7whether in the body1 ,i cannot tell2 or
 whether out  of the body1 ,i cannot    
tell3 ,god knoweth7 such a one caught up
 to the  third heaven4 ,and ,i knew such
 a man 7whether in the body or out of   
the  body1 ,i cannot tell3 ,god knoweth7
 how that he was caught up into         
,paradise1 and heard unspeakable words  
which it is not possible for a man  to  
utter4    #af4 ,by this is meant that   
what he heard was so infinitely         
different from  any thing which he had  
heard in this world1 that it was        
impossible to  express it in such words 
as might convey a notion of it to his   

hearers4    ,it is very natural for us  
to take delight in inquiries concerning 
any  foreign country1 where we are some 
time or other to make our abode2 and  as
 we all hope to be admitted into this   
glorious place1 it is both a  laudable  
and useful curiosity1 to get what       
information we can of it1  while we make
 use of revelation for our guide4       
#ag4 ,when these everlasting doors shall
 be opened to us1 we may be sure  that  
the pleasures and beauties of this place
 will infinitely transcend  our present 
hopes and expectations1 and that the    
glorious appearance of  the throne of   
,god will rise infinitely beyond        
whatever we are able to  conceive of it4
 ,we might here entertain ourselves with
 many other  speculations on this       
subject from those several hints which  
we find of  it in the holy scriptures3  
as whether there may not be different   
mansions and apartments of glory1 to    
beings of different natures2  whether1  
as they3 excel one another in           

perfection1 they are not admitted       
nearer to the throne of the ,almighty1  
and enjoy greater manifestations  of his
 presence4    #ah4 ,whether there are   
not solemn times and occasions1 when all
 the  multitude of heaven celebrate the 
presence of their ,maker1 in more       
extraordinary forms of praise and       
adoration2 as ,adam1 though he had      
continued in a state of innocence1      
would1 in the opinion of our divines1   
have kept holy the ,sabbath day1 in a   
more particular manner than any  other  
of the seven4 ,these1 and the like      
speculations1 we may very  innocently   
indulge1 so long as we make use of them 
to inspire us with a  desire of becoming
 inhabitants of this delightful place4  
#ai4 ,i have in this1 and in two        
foregoing letters1 treated on the most  
serious subject that can employ the mind
 of man1 the omnipresence of the        
,deity2 a subject which1 if possible1   
should never depart from our            
meditations4 ,we have considered the    

,divine ,being1 as he inhabits          
infinitude1 as he dwells among his      
works1 as he is present to the mind  of 
man1 and as he discovers himself in a   
more glorious manner among the  regions 
of the blest4 ,such a consideration     
should be kept awake in us at  all      
times1 and in all places1 and possess   
our minds with a perpetual awe  and     
reverence4    #bj4 ,it should be        
interwoven with all our thoughts and    
perceptions1 and  become one with the   
consciousness of our own being4 ,it is  
not to be  reflected on in the coldness 
of philosophy1 but ought to sink us into
  the lowest prostration before him1 who
 is so astonishingly1 great1  wonderful1
 and holy4          ,the present ,life  
to be considered only as it may conduce 
to the  ,happiness of a future one4     
,,spectator2 ,no4 #ege4      #a4 ,a lewd
 young fellow seeing an aged hermit go  
by him barefoot1  ,father1 says he1 you 
are in a very miserable condition1 if   
there is  not another world4 ,true son1 

said the hermit2 but what is thy        
condition if there is8 ,man is a        
creature designed for two different     
states of being1 or rather1 for two     
different lives4 ,his first life is     
short and transient2 his second         
permanent and lasting4    #b4 ,the      
question we are all concerned in is     
this1 in which of these two  lives is   
our chief interest to make ourselves    
happy8 or in other words1  whether we   
should endeavour to secure to ourselves 
the pleasure and  gratification of a    
life which is uncertain and precarious1 
and at its  utmost length of a very     
inconsiderable duration2 or to secure to
  ourselves the pleasure of a life that 
is fixed and settled1 and will  never   
end8 ,every man1 upon the first hearing 
of this question1 knows  very well which
 side of it he ought to close with4     
#c4 ,but however right we are in theory1
 it is plain that in practice we  adhere
 to the wrong side of the question4 ,we 
make provisions for this  life as though

 it were never to have an end1 and for  
the other life as  though it were never 
to have a beginning4    ,should a spirit
 of superior rank1 who is a stranger to 
human nature1  accidentally alight upon 
the earth1 and take a survey of its     
inhabitants1 what would his notions of  
us be8    #d4 ,would not he think that  
we were a species of beings made for    
quite  different ends and purposes than 
what we really are8 ,must not he imagine
  that we were placed in this world to  
get riches and honours8 ,would he  not  
think that it was our duty to toil after
 wealth1 and station1 and  title8 ,nay1 
would not he believe we were forbidden  
poverty by threats of  eternal          
punishment1 and enjoined to pursue our  
pleasures under pain of  damnation8 ,he 
would certainly imagine that we were    
influenced by a  scheme of duties quite 
opposite to those which are indeed      
prescribed to  us4    #e4 ,and truly1   
according to such an imagination1 be    
must conclude that we  are a species of 

the most obedient creatures in the      
universe2 that we  are constant to our  
duty2 and that we keep a steady eye on  
the end for  which we were sent hither4 
,but how great would be his             
astonishment1 when he learnt that we    
were  beings not designed to exist in   
this world above threescore and ten     
years2 and that the greatest part of    
this busy species fall short even  of   
that age8    #f4 ,how would he be lost  
in horror and admiration1 when he should
 know  that this set of creatures1 who  
lay out all their endeavours for this   
life1 which scarce deserves the name of 
existence1 when1 ,i say1 he  should know
 that this set of creatures are to exist
 to all eternity in  another life1 for  
winch they make no preparations8    #g4 
,nothing can be a greater disgrace to   
reason than that men1 who are  persuaded
 of these two different states of being1
 should be perpetually  employed in     
providing for a life of threescore and  
ten years1 and  neglecting to make      

provision for that which1 after many    
myriads of  years1 will be still new1   
and still beginning2 especially when we 
consider that our endeavours for making 
ourselves great1 or rich1 or            
honourable1 or whatever else we place   
our happiness in1 may1 after all1  prove
 unsuccessful2 whereas if we constantly 
and sincerely endeavour to  make        
ourselves happy in the other life1 we   
are sure that our endeavours  will      
succeed1 and that we shall not be       
disappointed of our hope4    #h4 ,the   
following question is started by one of 
the school-men3 ,supposing  the whole   
body of the earth were a great ball or  
mass of the finest  sand1 and that a    
single grain or particle of this sand   
should be  annihilated every thousand   
years4 ,supposing then that you had it  
in your  choice to be happy all the     
while this prodigious mass of sand was  
consuming by this slow method till there
 was not a grain1 of it left1 on        
condition you were to be miserable for  

ever after2 or supposing that you  might
 be happy for ever after1 on condition  
you would be miserable till  the whole  
mass of sand were thus annihilated at   
the rate of one sand in  a thousand     
years3 which of these two cases would   
you make your choice8    #i4 ,it must be
 confessed in this case1 so many        
thousands of years are to  the          
imagination as a kind of eternity1      
though in reality they do not  bear so  
great a proportion to that duration     
which is to follow them1 as  an unit    
does to the greatest number which you   
can put together in  figures1 or as one 
of those sands to the supposed heap4    
,reason therefore  tells us1 without any
 manner of hesitation1 which would be   
the better  part in this choice4    #aj4
 ,however1 as ,i have before intimated1 
our reason might in such a case  be so  
overset by the imagination1 as to       
dispose some persons to sink  under the 
consideration of the great length of the
 first part of this  duration1 and of   

the great distance of that second       
duration1 which is to  succeed it4 ,the 
mind1 ,i say1 might give itself up to   
that happiness  which is at hand1       
considering that it is so very near1 and
 that it would  last so very long4      
#aa4 ,but when the choice we actually   
have before us1 is this1 whether we     
will chuse to be happy for the space of 
only threescore and ten1 nay1  perhaps  
of only twenty or ten years1 ,i might   
say of only a day or an  hour1 and      
miserable to all eternity2 or1 on the   
contrary1 miserable for  this short term
 of years1 and happy for a whole        
eternity2 what words are  sufficient to 
express that folly and want of          
consideration which in such  a case     
makes a wrong choice8    #ab4 ,i here   
put the case even at the worst1 by      
supposing 7what seldom  happens7 that a 
course of virtue makes us miserable in  
this life3 but if  we suppose 7as it    
generally happens7 that virtue will make
 us more happy  even in this life than a

 contrary course of vice2 how can we    
sufficiently admire the stupidity or    
madness of those persons who are        
capable of making so absurd a choice8   
#ac4 ,every wise man1 therefore1 will   
consider this life only as it may       
conduce to the happiness of the other1  
and cheerfully sacrifice the  pleasures 
of a few years to those of an eternity4 
,on the ,immortality of the ,soul4      
,,spectator1 ,no4 #aaa4      #a4 ,i was 
yesterday walking alone in one of my    
friend's woods1 and lost  myself in it  
very agreeably1 as ,i was running over  
in my mind the  several arguments that  
establish this great point1 which is the
 basis of  morality1 and the source of  
all the pleasing hopes and secret joys  
that  can arise in the heart of a       
reasonable creature4    #b4 ,i          
considered those several proofs drawn3  
,first1 ,from the nature of  the soul   
itself1 and particualrly its            
immateriality2 which1 though not        
absolutely necessary to the eternity of 

its duration1 has1 ,i think1 been       
evinced to almost a demonstration4      
,secondly1 ,from its passions and       
sentiments1 as particularly from1 its   
love of existence2 its horror of        
annihilation1 and its hopes of          
immortality1 with that secret           
satisfaction which it finds in the      
practice of virtue1 and that uneasiness 
which follows in it upon the  commission
 of vice4    #c4 ,thirdly1 ,from the    
nature of the ,supreme ,being1 whose    
justice1  goodness1 wisdom and          
veraveracity1 are all concerned in this 
point4    ,but among these and other    
excellent arguments for the immortality 
of the  soul1 there is one drawn from   
the perpetual progress of the soul to   
its  perfection1 without a possibility  
of ever arriving at it2 which is a  hint
 that ,i do not remember to have seen   
opened and improved by others  who have 
written on this subject1 though it      
seeras to me to carry a very  great     
weight with it4    #d4 ,how can it enter

 into the thoughts of man1 that the soul
 which is  capable of such immense      
perfection1 and of receiving new        
improvements to  all eternity1 shall    
fall away into nothing almost as soon as
 it is  created8 are such abilities made
 for no purpose8 ,a brute arrives at a  
point of perfection that he can never   
pass3 in a few years he has all  the    
endowments he is capable of2 and were he
 to live ten thousand more1  would be   
the same thing he is at present4    #e4 
,were a human soul thus at a stand in   
her accomplishments1 were her  faculties
 to be full blown1 and incapable of     
further enlargements1 ,i  could imagine 
it might fall away insensibly2 and drop 
at once into a  state of annihilation4  
#f4 ,but can we believe a thinking      
being2 that is in a perpetual progress  
of improvements1 and travelling on from 
perfection to perfection1 after  having 
just looked abroad into the works of its
 ,creator1 and made a few  discoveries  
of his infinite goodness1 wisdom and    

power1 must perish at  her first setting
 out1 and in the very beginning of her  
enquiries8    ,a man considered in his  
present state1 seems only sent into the 
world to  propagate his kind4 ,he       
provides himself with a successor1 and  
immediately quits his post to make room 
for him4                                
----,hres4  ,hredem alterius velut unda 
supervenit undam4                       
,,hor4 ,ep4 #b4 #a4 #b4 v4 #age         
----,heir crowds heir1 as in a rolling  
flood  ,wave urges wave4                
,,creech4    #g4 ,he does net seem born 
to enjoy life1 but to deliver it down to
  others4 ,this is not surprising to    
consider in animals1 which are formed   
for our use1 and can finish their       
business in a short life4 ,the          
silk-worm1 after having spun her task1  
lays her eggs and dies4 ,but a man  can 
never have taken in his full measure of 
knowledge1 has not time to  subdue his  
passions1 establish his soul in virtue1 
and come up to the  perfection of his   

nature1 before he is hurried off the    
stage4    #h4 ,would an infinitely wise 
,being make such glorious creatures for 
so  mean a purpose8 ,can he delight in  
the production of such abortive         
intelligences1 such short-lived         
reasonable beings8 ,would he give us    
talents that are not to be exerted8     
capacities that are never to be         
gratified8 ,how can we find that wisdom 
which shines through all his  works1 in 
the formation of man1 without looking on
 this world as only a  nursery for the  
next1 and believing that the several    
generations of  rational creatures1     
which rise up and disappear in such     
quick  successions1 are only to receive 
the first rudiments of existence here1  
and afterwards to be transplanted into a
 more friendly climate1 where  they may 
spread and flourish to all eternity4    
#i4 ,there is not1 in my opinion1 a more
 pleasing and triumphant  consideration 
in religion than this of the perpetual  
progress which the  soul makes towards  

the perfection of its nature1 without   
ever arriving  at a period in it4 ,to   
look upon the soul as going on from     
strength to  strength1 to consider that 
she is to shine for ever with new       
accessions  of glory1 and brighten to   
all eternity2 that she will be still    
adding  virtue to virtue1 and knowledge 
to knowledge2 carries in it something   
wonderfully agreeable to that ambition  
which is natural to the mind of  man4   
,nay1 it must be a prospect pleasing to 
,god himself1 to see his  creation of   
ever beautifying his eyes1 and drawing  
nearer to him1 by  greater degrees of   
resemblance4    #aj4 ,methinks this     
single consideration1 of the progress of
 a finite  spirit to perfection1 will be
 sufficient to extinguish all envy in   
inferior natures1 and all contempt in   
superior ,that cherubim1 which now      
appears as a ,god to a human soul1 knows
 very well that the period will  come   
about in eternity when the human soul   
shall be as perfect as he  himself now  

is3 nay1 when she shall look down upon  
that degree of  perfection as much as   
she now falls short of it4 ,it is true1 
the higher  nature still advances1 and  
by that means preserves his distance and
  superiority in the scale of being2 but
 he knows that1 how high soever  the    
station is of which he stands possessed 
at present1 the inferior  nature will at
 length mount up to it1 and shine forth 
in the same degree  of glory4    #aa4   
,with what astonishment and veneration  
may we look into our own soul1  where   
there are such hidden stores of virtue  
and knowledge1 such  inexhausted sources
 of perfection6 ,we know not yet what we
 shall be1 nor  will it ever enter into 
the heart of man to conceive the glory  
that will  be always in reserve for him4
 ,the soul considered with its ,creator1
 is  like one of those mathematical     
lines that may draw nearer to another   
for  all eternity1 without a possibility
 of touching it3 and can there be a     
thought so transporting1 as to consider 

ourselves in these perpetual  approaches
 to him1 who is not only the standard of
 perfection1 but of  happiness6         
,on the ,animal ,world1 and the ,scale  
of ,beings4    ,,spectator1 ,no4 #eai4  
#a4 ,though there is a great deal of    
pleasure in contemplating the  material 
world1 by which ,i mean that system of  
bodies into which nature  has so        
curiously wrought the mass of dead      
matter1 with the several  relations     
which1 those bodies bear to one another2
 there is still1  methinks1 something   
more wonderful and surprising in        
contemplations on  the world of life1 by
 which ,i mean all those animals with   
which every  part of the universe is    
furnished4    ,the material world1 is   
only the shell of the universe3 the     
world of life  are its inhabitants4     
#b4 ,if we consider those parts of the  
material world which lie the  nearest to
 us1 and are therefore subject to our   
observations and  inquiries1 it is      
amazing to consider the infinity of     

animals with which  it is stocked4      
,every part of matter is peopled3 every 
green leaf swarms  with inhabitants4    
,there is scarce a single humour of the 
body of a man1  or of any other animal1 
in which our glasses do not discover    
myriads of  living creatures4    #c4    
,the surface of animals1 is also covered
 with other animals1 which are  in the  
same manner the basis of other animals  
that live upon it3 nay1 we  find in the 
most solid bodies1 as in marble itself1 
innumerable cells  and cavities1 that   
are crowded with such imperceptible     
inhabitants1 as  are too little for the 
naked eye to discover4 ,on the other    
hand1 if we  look into the more bulky   
parts of nature1 we see the seas1 lakes1
 and  rivers teeming with numberless    
kinds of living creatures2 we find every
  mountain and marsh1 wilderness and    
wood plentifully stocked with birds  and
 beasts1 and every part of matter       
affording proper necessaries and        
conveniences for the livelihood of      

multitudes which1 inhabit it4    #d4    
,the author of the ,plurality of ,worlds
 draws a very good argument  from this  
consideration1 for the peopling of every
 planet3 as indeed  it seems very       
probable1 from the analogy of reason1   
that if no part of  matter1 which we are
 acquainted with1 lies waste and        
useless1 those  great bodies2 which are 
at such a distance from us1 should not  
be desert  and unpeopled1 but rather    
that they should be furnished with      
beings  adapted to their respective     
situations4    #e4 ,existence is a      
blessing to those beings only which are 
endowed with  perception1 and is in a   
manner thrown away upon dead matter1 any
 further  than it is subservient to     
beings which are conscious of their     
existence4  ,accordingly we find1 from  
the bodies which lie under our          
observation1  that matter is only made  
as the basis and support of animals1 and
 that  there is no more of the one1 than
 what is necessary for the existence of 

the other4    #f4 ,infinite goodness is 
of so communicative a nature1 that it   
seems to  delight in the conferring of  
existence upon every degree of          
perceptive  being4 ,as this is a        
speculation1 which ,i have often pursued
 with great  pleasure to myself1 ,i     
shall enlarge further upon it1 by       
considering that  part of the scale of  
beings which comes within our knowledge4
    #g4 ,there are some living creatures
 which are raised but just above dead   
matter4 ,to mention only that species of
 shell-fish1 which are formed in  the   
fashion of a cone1 that grow to the     
surface of several rocks and            
immediately die upon their being severed
 from the place where they grow3  there 
are many other creatures but one remove 
from these1 which have no  other sense  
besides that of feeling and taste4      
,others have still an  additional one of
 hearing2 others of smell2 and others of
 sight4    #c4 ,it is wonderful1 to     
observe1 by what a gradual progress the 

world of  life advances through a       
prodigious variety of species1 before a 
creature  is formed that is complete in 
all its senses3 and even among these    
there  is such a different degree of    
perfection in the sense which one animal
  enjoys beyond what appears in another1
 though the sense in different  animals 
is distinguished by the same common     
denomination2 it seems  almost of a     
different nature4    #aj4 ,the exuberant
 and overflowing2 goodness of the       
,supreme ,being1 whose  mercy extends to
 all his works1 is plainly seen1 as ,i  
have before  hinted2 from his having    
made so very little matter1 at least    
what fall  within our knowledge1 that   
does not swarm with life3 nor is his    
goodness  less seen in the diversity1   
than in the multitude of living         
creatures4  ,had he only made one       
species animals1 none of the rest could 
have  enjoyed the happiness of          
existence2 he has therefore specified in
 his  creation every degree of life1    

every capacity of being4    #aa4 ,the   
whole chasm of nature1 from a plant to a
 man1 is filled up with  divers kinds of
 creatures1 rising one over another1 by 
such a gentle and  easy ascent1 that the
 little transitions and deviations from 
one species  to another1 are almost     
insensible4 ,this intermediate space is 
so well  husbanded and managed1 that    
there is scarce a degree of perception  
which  does not appear in some one part 
of the world of life4 ,is the goodness1 
or wisdom1 of the ,divine ,being1 more  
manifested in this his proceeding8      
#ab4 ,there is a consequence1 besides   
those ,i have already mentioned1  which 
seems very naturally deducible from the 
foregoing considerations4  ,if the scale
 of being rises by such a regular       
progress1 so high as man1  we may by a  
parity of reason suppose that it still  
proceeds gradually  through those beings
 which are of a superior nature to him2 
since there  is an infinitely greater   
space and room for different degrees of 

perfection between the ,supreme ,being  
and man1 than between man and the  most 
despicable insect4    #ac4 ,the         
consequence of so great a variety of    
beings which are superior  to us1 from  
that variety which is inferior to us is 
made by ,mr4 ,locke1  in a passage which
 ,i shall here set down1 after having   
premised that  notwithstanding there is 
still infinite room between man and his 
,maker  for the creative power to exert 
itself in1 it is impossible that it     
should ever be filled up1 since there   
will be still an infinite gap or        
distance between the highest created    
being1 and the power which produced     
him4    #ad4 ,that there should be more 
species of intelligent creatures above  
us1 than there are of sensible and      
material below us1 is probable to me    
from hence2 that in all the visible     
corporeal world1 we see no chasms or  no
 gaps4 ,all quite down from us1 the     
descent is by easy steps1 and a         
continued series of things that in each 

remove1 differ very little one  from the
 other4 ,there are fishes that have     
wings1 and are not strangers  to the    
airy region2 and there are some birds1  
that are inhabitants of  the water1     
whose blood is as cold as fishes1 and   
their flesh so like in  taste1 that the 
scrupulous1 are allowed them on         
fish-days4    #ae4 ,there are animals so
 near of kin both to birds and beasts1  
that  they are in the middle between    
both2 amphibious animals1 link the      
terrestrial and aquatic together3 seals 
live on land and at sea1 and  porpoises 
have the warm blood and entrails of a   
hog4 ,not to mention what  is           
confidently reported of mermaids or     
sea-men1 them are same brutes1  that    
seem to have as much knowledge and      
reason1 as some that are called  men2   
and the animal and vegetable kingdoms   
are so nearly joined1 that if  you will 
take the lowest of one1 and the highest 
of the other1 there  will scarce be     
perceived any great difference between  

them2 and so on  till we come to the    
lowest and the most most inorganical    
parts of  matter1 we shall find every   
where that the several species are      
linked  together1 and differ but1 in    
almost insensible degrees4    #af4 ,and 
when we consider the infinite power and 
wisdom of the ,maker1 we  have reason to
 think that it is suitable to the       
magnificent harmony of  the universe1   
that the great design and infinite      
goodness of the  architect1 that the    
species of creatures should also1 by    
gentle  degrees1 ascend upwards from us 
toward his infinite perfection as we see
  they gradually descend from us        
downward3 which if it be probable1 we   
have reason then to be persuaded2 that  
there are far more species of  creatures
 above us than there are beneath2 we    
being in degrees of  perfection much    
more remote from the infinite ,being of 
,god1 than we are  from the lowest state
 of being1 and that which approaches    
nearest to  nothing4 ,and yet of all    

those distinct species1 we have no clear
  distinct ideas4    #ag4 ,in this      
system of being1 there is no creature so
 wonderful in its  nature1 and which so 
much deserves our particular attention1 
as man1 who  fills up the middle space  
between the animal and intellectual     
nature1  the visible and invisible      
world1 and is that link in the chain of 
being1  which has been often termed the 
,nexus utriusque mundi4 ,so that he who 
in one respect is associated with angels
 and archangels1 may look upon a  ,being
 of infinite perfection as his father1  
and the highest order of  spirits as his
 brethren2 may in another respect say to
 corruption1 ,thou  art my father1 and  
to the worm1 thou art my mother and my  
sister4          ,providence proved from
 ,animal ,instinct4    ,,spectator1 ,no4
 #abj4      #a4 ,i must confess ,i am   
infinitely delighted with those         
speculations of  nature which are to be 
made in a country-life2 and as my       
reading has  very much lain among books 

of natural history1 ,i cannot forbear   
recollecting1 upon this occasion1 the   
several remarks which ,i have met  with 
in authors1 and comparing them with what
 falls under my own  observation2 the   
arguments for ,providence drawn from the
 natural history  of animals1 being1 in 
my opinion1 demonstrative4    #b4 ,the  
make of every kind of animal is         
different from that of every  other     
kind2 and there is not the least turn in
 the muscles or twist in  the fibres of 
any one1 which does not render them more
 proper for that  particular animal's   
way of life1 than any other cast or     
texture of them  would have been4       
,the most violent appetites in all      
creatures are lust and hunger2 the      
first is a perpetual call upon them to  
propagate their kind2 the latter  to    
preserve themselves4    #c4 ,it is      
astonishing to consider the different   
degrees of care that  descend from the  
parent to the young1 so far as is       
absolutely necessary  for the leaving a 

posterity4 ,some creatures cast their   
eggs as chance  directs them1 and think 
of them no further1 as insects1 and     
several  kinds of fish2 others1 of a    
nicer frame1 find out proper beds to    
deposit them in1 and there leave them1  
as the serpent1 the crocodile1  and     
ostrich2 others hatch their eggs and    
tend the birth till it is able  to shift
 for itself4    #d4 ,what can we call   
the principle which directs every       
different kind of  bird to observe a    
particular plan in the structure of the 
nest1 and  directs all of the same      
species to work after the same model6   
,it cannot  be imitation2 for though you
 hatch a crow under a hen1 and never let
  it see any of the works of its own    
kind1 the nest it makes shall be the    
same to the laying of a stick1 with all 
the other nests of the same  species4   
,it cannot be reason2 for were animals  
endued with it to as  great a degree as 
man1 their buildings would be as        
different as ours1  according to the    

different conveniences that they would  
propose to  themselves4    #e4 ,is it   
not remarkable1 that the same temper of 
weather1 which raises  this general     
warmth in animals1 should cover the     
trees with leaves1 and  the fields with 
grass1 for their security and           
concealment1 and produce  such infinite 
swarms of insects for the support and   
sustenance of their  respective broods8 
,is it not wonderful that the love of   
the parent should be so violent  while  
it lasts1 and that it should last no    
longer than is necessary for  the       
preservation of the young8    #f4 ,with 
what caution does the hen provide       
herself a nest in places  unfrequented1 
and free from noise and disturbances8   
,when she has laid  her eggs in such a  
manner that she can cover them1 what    
care does she  take in turning them     
frequently1 that all parts may partake  
of the vital  warmth8 ,when she leaves  
them1 to provide for her necessary      
sustenance1  how punctually does she    

return before they have time to cool1   
and become  incapable of producing an   
animal8 ,in the summer1 you see her     
giving  herself greater freedoms1 and   
quitting her care for above two hours   
together2 but1 in winter1 when the      
rigour of the season would chill the    
principles of life1 and destroy the     
young one1 she grows more assiduous  in 
her attendance1 and stays away but half 
the time4    #g4 ,when the birth        
approaches1 with how much nicety and    
attention does  she help the chick to   
break its prison8 ,not to take notice of
 her  covering it from the injuries of  
the weather1 providing it proper        
nourishment1 and teaching it to help    
itself2 nor to mention her  forsaking   
the nest1 if after the usual time of    
reckoning the young one  does not make  
its appearance4 ,a chymical operation   
could not be followed  with greater art 
or diligence1 than is seen in the       
hatching of a chick2  though there are  
many more birds that show an infinitely 

greater  sagacity in all the fore       
mentioned particulars4    #h4 ,but at   
the same time the hen1 that has all this
 seeming ingenuity  7which is indeed    
absolutely necessary for the propagation
 of the  species7 considered in other   
respects1 is without the least          
glimmerings  of thought or common sense4
 ,she mistakes a piece of chalk for an  
egg1  and sits upon it in the same      
manner3 she is insensible of any        
increase  or diminution in the number of
 those she lays3 she does not           
distinguish  between her own and those  
off another species2 and when the birth 
appears of ever so different a bird1    
will cherish it for her own4 ,in all    
these circumstances1 which do not carry 
an immediate regard to the  subsistence 
of herself or her species1 she is a very
 idiot4    #i4 ,there is not1 in my     
opinion1 any thing more mysterious in   
nature than  this instinct in animals1  
which thus1 rises above reason1 and     
falls  infinitely short of it4 ,it      

cannot be accounted for by any          
properties of  matter1 and at the same  
time works after so odd a manner1 that  
one  cannot think it the faculty of an  
intellectual being4 ,for my own part1 ,i
  look upon it as upon the principle of 
gravitation in bodies1 which is  not to 
be explained by any known qualities     
inherent in the bodies  themselves1 nor 
from any laws in mechanism2 but1        
according to the best  notions of the   
greatest philosophers1 is an immediate  
impression from  the first mover1 and   
the divine energy acting in the         
creature4          ,good-,breeding4     
#a4 ,complaisance renders a superior    
amiable1 an equal agreeable1 and an     
inferior acceptable4 ,it smoothes       
distinction1 sweetens conversation1 and 
makes every one in the company pleased  
with himself4 ,it produces good  nature 
and mutual benevolence1 encourages the  
timorous1 soothes the  turbulent2       
humanizes the fierce1 and distinguishes 
a society of  civilized persons from a  

confusion of savages4 ,in a word1       
complaisance  is a virtue that blends   
all orders of men together in a friendly
  intercourse of words and actions1 and 
is suited to that equality in  human    
nature which every one ought to         
consider1 so far as is consistent  with 
the order and economy of the world4     
#b4 ,if we could look into the secret   
anguish and affliction of every  man's  
heart1 we should often find1 that more  
of it arises from little  imaginary     
distresses1 such as checks1 frowns1     
contradictions1  expressions of         
contempt1 and 7what ,shakspeare reckons 
among other  evils under the sun7       
--,the poor man's contumely1 ,the       
insolence of office1 and the spurns     
,that patient merit of the unworthy     
takes1    than from the more real pains 
and calamities of life4 ,the only method
 to  remove these imaginary distresses  
as much as possible out of human life1  
would be the universal practice of such 
an ingenious complaisance as ,i  have   

been here describing1 which1 as it is a 
virtue1 may be defined to  be a constant
 endeavour to please those whom we      
converse with1 so far  as we may do it  
innocently4    #c4 ,good-breeding       
necessarily implies civility2 but       
civility does not  reciprocally imply   
good-breeding4 ,the former has its      
intrinsic weight  and value1 which the  
latter always adorns1 and often doubles 
by its  workmanship4    ,to sacrifice   
one's own self-love to other people's1  
is a short1 but1 ,i  believe1 a true    
definition of civility3 to do it with   
ease1 propriety  and grace1 is          
good-breeding4 ,the one is the result of
 good-nature2 the  other of good-sense1 
joined to experience1 observation and   
attention4    #d4 ,a ploughman will be  
civil1 if he is good-natured1 but cannot
 be well  bred4 ,a courtier will be well
 bred though perhaps without            
good-nature1  if he has but good sense4 
,flattery is the disgrace of            
good-breeding1 as  brutality often is of

 truth and sincerity4 ,good-breeding is 
the middle  point between those two     
odious extremes4    ,ceremony is the    
superstition of good-breeding1 as well  
as of religion3  but yet1 being an      
out-work to both1 should not be         
absolutely demolished4  ,it is always1  
to a certain degree1 to be complied     
with1 though despised  by those who     
think1 because admired and respected by 
those who do not4    #e4 ,the most      
perfect degree of good-breeding1 as ,i  
have already hinted1  is only to be     
acquired by great knowledge of the      
world1 and keeping the  best company4   
,it is not the object of mere           
speculation1 and cannot be  exactly     
defined1 as it consists in a fitness1 a 
propriety of words1  actions1 and even  
looks1 adapted to the infinite variety  
and  combinations of persons1 places1   
and things4 ,it is a mode1 not a        
substance2 for what is good-breeding at 
,st4 ,james's1 would pass for  foppery  
or banter in a remote village2 and the  

homespun civility of that  village would
 be considered as brutality at court4   
#f4 ,a cloistered pedant may form true  
notions of civility2 but if amidst  the 
cobwebs of his cell he pretends to spin 
a speculative system of  good-breeding1 
he will not be less absurd than his     
predecessor1 who  judiciously undertook 
to instruct ,hannibal1 in the art of    
war4 ,the  most ridiculous and most     
aukward of men are1 therefore1 the      
speculatively well bred monks of all    
religions and all professions4    #g4   
,good-breeding1 like charity1 not only  
covers a multitude of faults1  but1 to a
 certain degree1 supplies the want of   
some virtues4 ,in the  common           
intercourse of life1 it nets            
good-nature1 and often does what        
good-nature will not always do2 it keeps
 both wits and fools within  those      
bounds of decency1 which the former are 
too apt to transgress1 and  which the   
latter never know4 ,courts are          
unquestionably the seats of             

good-breeding and must necessarily be   
so2 otherwise they would be the  seats  
of violence and desolation4 ,there all  
the passions are in their  highest state
 of fermentation4    #h4 ,all pursue    
what but few can obtain1 and many seek  
what but one can  enjoy4 ,good-breeding 
alone restrains their excesses4 ,there1 
if enemies  did not embrace they would  
stab4 ,there1 smiles are often put on to
  conceal tears4 ,there1 mutual services
 are professed1 while mutual  injuries  
are intended2 and there1 the guile of   
the serpent stimulates  the gentleness  
of the dove3 all this1 it is true1 at   
the expense of  sincerity2 but upon the 
whole1 to the advantage of social       
intercourse in  general4    #i4 ,i would
 not be misapprehended1 and supposed to 
recommend  good-breeding1 thus prophaned
 and prostituted to the purposes of     
guilt  and perfidy2 but ,i think ,i may 
justly infer from it1 to what a degree  
the accomplishment of good-breeding must
 adorn and enforce virtue and  truth1   

when it can thus soften the outrages and
 deformity of vice and  falsehood4 ,i am
 sorry to be obliged to confess1 that my
 native country  is not perhaps the seat
 of the most perfect good-breeding1     
though ,i  really believe1 that it      
yields to none in hearty and sincere    
civility1  as far as civility is 7and to
 a certain degree it is7 an inferior    
moral  duty of doing as one would be    
done by4    #aj4 ,if ,france exceeds us 
in that particular1 the incomparable    
author  of ,l',esprit des ,loix accounts
 for it very impartially1 and ,i believe
  very truly4 ,if my countrymen1 says   
he1 are the best bred people in  the    
world1 it is only because they are the  
vainest4 ,it is certain that  their     
good-breeding and attention1 by         
flattering the vanity and  self-love of 
others1 repay their own with interest4  
,it is a general  commerce1 usefully    
carried on by a barter of attentions1   
and often  without one grain of solid   
merit1 by way of medium1 to make up the 

balance4    #aa4 ,it were to be wished  
that good-breeding were in general      
thought a  more essential part in the   
education of our youth1 especially of   
distinction1 than at present it seems to
 be4 ,it might even be  substituted in  
the room of some academical studies1    
that take up a great  deal of time to   
very little purpose2 or1 at least1 it   
might usefully  share some of those many
 hours1 that are so frequently employed 
upon a  coach-box1 or in stables4       
,surely those1 who by their rank and    
fortune  are called to adorn courts1    
ought at least not to disgrace1 them by 
their manners4    #ab4 ,but ,i observe  
with concern1 that it is the fashion for
 our youth of  both sexes to brand      
good-breeding with the name of ceremony 
and  formality4 ,as such they ridicule  
and explode it1 and adopt in its stead1 
an offensive carelessness and           
inattention1 to the diminution1 ,i will 
venture to say1 even of their own       
pleasures1 if they know what true       

pleasures are4 ,love and friendship     
necessarily produce1 and justly         
authorize familiarity2 but then         
good-breeding must mark out its bounds1 
and say1 thus far shalt thou go1 and no 
farther2 for ,i have known many a       
passion and many a friendship1 degraded1
 weakened1 and at last 7if ,i may  use  
the expression7 wholly flattened away1  
by an unguarded and illiberal           
familiarity4    #ac4 ,nor is            
good-breeding less the ornament and     
cement of common social  life3 it       
connects1 it endears1 and at the same   
time that it indulges the  just liberty1
 restrains that indecent licentiousness 
of conversation1  which alienates and   
provokes4 ,great talents make a man     
famous1 great  merit makes him          
respected1 and great learning makes him 
esteemed2 but  good breeding alone can  
make him beloved4    #ad4 ,i recommend  
it in a more particular manner to my    
countrywomen1 as  the greatest ornament 
to such of them as have beauty1 and the 

safest  refuge for those who have not4  
,it facilitates the victories1 decorates
  the triumphs1 and secures the         
conquests of beauty2 or in some degree  
atones for the want of it4 ,it almost   
deifies a fine woman1 and procures      
respect at least to those who have not  
charms enough to be admired4 ,upon  the 
whole1 though good-breeding cannot1     
strictly speaking1 be called a  virtue1 
yet it is productive of so many good    
effects1 that1 in my  opinion1 it may be
 justly reckoned more than a mere       
accomplishment4      ,,world1 ,no4 #adc4
    ,further ,remarks1 taken from ,lord 
,chesterfield's ,letters to his ,son4   
#ae4 ,good-,breeding has been very      
justly defined to be the result of much 
good-sense1 some good nature and a      
little self-denial for the sake of      
others1 and with a view to obtain the   
same indulgence from them4              
,good-breeding alone can prepossess     
people in our favour at first sight2    
more time being necessary to discover   

greater talents4 ,good-breeding1        
however1 does not consist in low bows1  
and formal ceremony2 but in an  easy    
civil1 and respectful behaviour4    #af4
 ,indeed1 good-sense1 in many cases1    
must determine good-breeding2 for  what 
would be civil at one time1 and to one  
person1 would be rude at  another time1 
and to another person3 there are1       
however1 some general  rules of         
good-breeding4 ,as for example2 to      
answer only yes1 or no1 to  any person1 
without adding sir1 my lord1 or madam1  
7as it may happen7 is  always extremely 
rude2 and it is equally so not to give  
proper attention  and a civil answer1   
when spoken to3 such behaviour convinces
 the person  who is speaking to us1 that
 we despise him1 and do not think him   
worthy  of our attention or answer4     
#ag4 ,a well-bred person will take care 
to answer with complaisance when  he is 
spoken to2 will place himself at the    
lower end of the table1  unless bid to  
go higher2 will first drink to the lady 

of the house1 and  then to the master2  
he will not eat aukwardly or dirtily1   
nor sit when  others stand2 and he will 
do all this with an air of complaisance1
 and  not with a grave ill-natured look1
 as if he did it all unwillingly4       
#ah4 ,there is nothing more difficult to
 attain1 or so necessary to  possess1 as
 perfect good-breeding2 which is equally
 inconsistent with a  stiff formality1  
an impertinent forwardness1 and an      
aukward bashfulness4  ,a little ceremony
 is sometimes necessary2 a certain      
degree of firmness  is absolutely so2   
and an outward modesty is extremely     
becoming4    #ai4 ,virtue and learning1 
like gold1 have their intrinsic value2  
but1 if  they are not polished1 they    
certainly lose a great deal of their    
lustre3  and even polished brass will   
pass upon more people than rough gold4  
,what  a number of sins does the        
cheerful1 easy1 good-breeding of the    
,french  frequently cover6    ,my ,lord 
,bacon says1 that a pleasing figure is a

 perpetual letter of  recommendation4   
,it is certainly an agreeable           
fore-runner of merit and  smooths the   
way for it4    #bj4 ,a man of           
good-breeding should be acquainted with 
the forms and  particular customs of    
courts4 ,at ,vienna men always make     
courtesies1  instead of bows1 to the    
emperor2 in ,france nobody bows to the  
king1 or  kisses his hand2 but in ,spain
 and ,england bows are made and hands   
are kissed4 ,thus every court has some  
peculiarity1 which those who visit  them
 ought previously to inform themselves  
of1 to avoid blunders and  aukwardness4 
#ba4 ,very few1 scarce any1 are wanting 
in the respect which they should  shew  
to those whom they acknowledge to be    
infinitely their superiors4  ,the man of
 fashion1 and of the world1 expresses it
 in its fullest  extent2 but naturally1 
easily1 and without concern3 whereas a  
man1 who  is not used to keep good      
company1 expresses it aukwardly2 one    
sees that  he is not used to it1 and    

that it costs him a great deal3 but ,i  
never  saw the worst bred man living1   
guilty of lolling1 whistling1 scratching
  his head1 and such-like indecencies1  
in company that he respected4 ,in  such 
companies1 therefore1 the only point to 
be attended to is1 to shew  that        
respect1 which every body means to shew1
 in an easy1 unembarrassed  and graceful
 manner4    #bb4 ,in mixed companies1   
whoever is admitted to make part of     
them1 is1  for the time at least1       
supposed to be upon a footing of        
equality with  the rest2 and            
consequently1 every one claims1 and very
 justly1 every  mark of civility and    
good-breeding4 ,ease is allowed1 but    
carelessness  and negligence are        
strictly forbidden4 ,if a man accosts   
you1 and talks  to you ever so dully or 
frivolously1 it is worse than rudeness1 
it is  brutality1 to shew him1 by a     
manifest inattention to what he says1   
that  you think him a fool or a         
blockhead1 and not worth hearing4       

#bc4 ,it is much more so with regard to 
women2 who1 of whatever rank they  are1 
are entitled1 in consideration of their 
sex1 not only to an  attentive1 but an  
officious good-breeding from men4 ,their
 little wants1  likings1 dislikes1      
preferences1 antipathies1 fancies1      
whims1 and even  impertinences1 must be 
officiously attended to1 flattered1 and1
 if  possible1 guessed at and           
anticipated1 by a well-bred man4 ,you   
must never  usurp to yourself those     
conveniences and agrmens which are of   
common  right2 such as the best places1 
the best dishes1 c4 but1 on the         
contrary1 always decline themself       
yourself1 and offer them to others2     
who1 in their turns1 will offer them to 
you3 so that1 upon the whole1  you will1
 in your turn1 enjoy your share of      
common right4    #bd4 ,the third sort of
 good-breeding is local2 and is         
variously modified1  in not only        
different countries1 but in different   
towns in the same  country4 ,but it must

 be founded upon the two former sorts3  
they are the  matter2 to which1 in this 
case1 fashion and custom only give the  
different shapes and impressions4       
,whoever has the two first sorts1 will  
easily acquire this third sort of       
good-breeding1 which depends singly     
upon attention and observation4 ,it is  
properly the polish1 the lustre1  the   
last finishing strokes of good-breeding4
 ,a man of sense1 therefore1  carefully 
attends to the local manners of the     
respective places where he  is1 and     
takes for his models those persons1 whom
 he observes to be at  the head of the  
fashion and good-breeding4    #be4 ,he  
watches how they address themselves to  
their superiors1 how they  accost their 
equals1 and how they treat their        
inferiors3 and lets none  of those      
little niceties escape him2 which are to
 good-breeding1 what  the last delicate 
and masterly touches are to a good      
picture1 and which  the vulgar have no  
notion of1 but by which good judges     

distinguish the  master4 ,he attends    
even to their airs1 dress1 and motions1 
and imitates  them liberally1 and not   
servilely2 he copies1 but does not      
mimic4 ,these  personal graces are of   
very great consequence4 ,they anticipate
 the  sentiments1 before merit can      
engage the understanding3 they captivate
  the heart1 and give rise1 ,i believe1 
to the extravagant notions of  charms   
and philtres4 ,their effects were so    
surprising1 that they were  reckoned    
supernatural4    #bf4 ,in short1 as it  
is necessary to possess learning1 honor 
and virtue1  to gain the esteem and     
admiration of mankind1 so politeness and
  good-breeding are equally necessary to
 render us agreeable in  conversation   
and common life4 ,great talents are     
above the generality of  the world2 who 
neither possess them themselves1 nor are
 competent judges  of them in others2   
but all are judges of the lesser        
talents1 such1 as  civility1 affability1
 and an agreeable address and manner2   

because they  feel the good effects of  
them1 as making society easy and        
agreeable4    ,to conclude3 be assured  
that the profoundest learning1 without  
good-breeding1 is unwelcome and tiresome
 pedantry2 that a man who is not        
perfectly well-bred1 is unfit for       
company1 and unwelcome in it2 and that  
a man1 who is not well-bred1 is full as 
unfit for business as for  company4     
,make1 then1 good-breeding the great    
object of your thoughts and actions4    
,observe carefully the behaviour and    
manners of those who are  distinguished 
by their good-breeding2 imitate1 nay1   
endeavour to excel1  that you may at    
least reach them2 and be convinced that 
good-breeding is  to all worldly        
qualifications1 what charity is to all  
christian virtues4  ,observe how it     
adorns merit1 and how often it covers   
the want of it4          ,genteel       
,carriage4      #a4 ,next to            
good-breeding is a genteel manner and   
carriage1 wholly free  from those ill   

habits and aukward actions1 which many  
very worthy  persons are addicted to4   
#b4 ,a genteel manner of behaviour1 how 
trifling soever it may seem1 is of  the 
utmost consequence in private life4 ,men
 of very inferior parts have  been      
esteemed1 merely for their genteel      
carriage and good-breeding1  while      
sensible men have given disgust for want
 of it4 ,there is something  or other   
that prepossesses us at first sight in  
favor of a well-bred  man1 and makes us 
wish to like him4    #c4 ,when an       
aukward fellow first comes into a room1 
he attempts to bow1  and his sword1 if  
he wears one1 gets between his legs1 and
 nearly throws  him down4 ,confused1 and
 ashamed1 he stumbles to the upper end  
of the  room and seats himself in the   
very chair he should not4 ,he there     
begins  playing with his hat1 which he  
presently drops2 and recovering his hat1
  he lets fall his cane2 and in picking 
up his cane1 down goes his hat  again3  
thus 'tis a considerable time before he 

is adjusted4    #d4 ,when his tea or    
coffee is handed to him1 he spreads his 
handkerchief  upon his knee1 scalds his 
mouth1 drops either the cup or the      
saucer1 and  spills the tea or coffee in
 his lap4 ,at dinner he is more         
uncommonly  aukward3 there he tucks his 
napkin through a button-hole1 which     
tickles  his chin1 and occasions him to 
make a variety of wry faces2 he seats   
himself on the edge of the chair1 at so 
great a distance from the table1  that  
he frequently drops his meat between his
 plate and his mouth2 he  holds his     
knife1 fork and spoon different from    
other people2 eats with  his knife1 to  
the manifest danger of his mouth2 picks 
his teeth with his  fork1 rakes his     
mouth with his finger1 and puts his     
spoon1 which has  been in his throat a  
dozen times1 into the dish again4    #e4
 ,if he is to carve he cannot hit the   
joint1 but in labouring to cut  through 
the bone1 splashes the sauce over every 
body's clothes4 ,he  generally daubs    

himself all over1 his elbows are in the 
next person's  plate1 and he is up to   
the knuckles in soup and grease4 ,if he 
drinks1 it  is with his mouth full1     
interrupting the whole company with1 to 
your  good health1 ,sir1 and my service 
to you2 perhaps coughs in his glass1    
and besprinkles the whole table4        
,further1 he has perhaps a number of    
disagreeable tricks2 he snuffs up his   
nose1 picks it with his fingers1  blows 
it2 and looks in his handkerchief1 crams
 his hands first in his  bosom1 and next
 in his breeches4    #f4 ,in short1 he  
neither dresses nor acts like any other 
but is  particularly aukward in every   
thing he does4 ,all this1 ,i own1 has   
nothing in it criminal2 but it is such  
an offence to good manners and          
good-breeding that it is universally    
despised2 it makes a man ridiculous  in 
every company1 and1 of course1 ought    
carefully to be avoided by every  one   
who would wish to please4    #g4 ,from  
this picture of the ill-bred man1 you   

will easily discover that  of the       
well-bred2 for you may readily judge    
what you ought to do1 when  you are told
 what you ought not to do2 a little     
attention to the manners  of those who  
have seen the world1 will make a proper 
behaviour habitual  and familiar to you4
    #h4 ,actions1 that would otherwise  
be pleasing1 frequently become          
ridiculous by your manner of doing-them4
 ,if a lady drops her fan in  company1  
the worst bred man would immediately    
pick it up1 and give it to  her2 the    
best bred man can do no more2 but then  
he does it in a graceful  manner1 which 
is sure to please2 whereas the other    
would do it so  aukwardly as to be      
laughed at4    #i4 ,you may also know a 
well-bred person by his manner of       
sitting4  ,ashamed and confused1 the    
aukward man sits in his chair stiff and 
bolt  upright1 whereas the man of       
fashion is easy in every position2      
instead  of lolling or lounging as he   
sits1 he leans with elegance1 and by    

varying his attitudes1 shews that he has
 been used to good company4 ,let  it be 
one part of your study1 then1 to learn  
to set genteely in  different companies1
 to loll gracefully1 where you are      
authorised to  take that liberty1 and to
 set up respectfully1 where that freedom
 is not  allowable4    #aj4 ,in short1  
you cannot conceive how advantageous a  
graceful carriage  and a pleasing       
address are1 upon all occasions2 they   
ensnare the  affections1 steal a        
prepossession in our favour1 and play   
about the  heart till they engage it4   
,now to acquire a graceful air1 you must
 attend to your dancing2 no one  can    
either sit1 stand1 or walk well unless  
he dances well4 ,and in  learning to    
dance be particularly attentive to the  
motion of your arms1  for a stiffness in
 the wrist will make any man look       
aukward4 ,if a man  walks well1 presents
 himself well in company1 wears his hat 
well1 moves  his head properly and his  
arms gracefully1 it is almost all that  

is  necessary4    #aa4 ,there is also an
 aukwardness in speech1 that naturally  
falls under  this head1 and ought to1   
and may be guarded against2 such as     
forgetting  names and mistaking one name
 for another2 to speak of ,mr4          
,what-d'ye-call  him1 or1 ,you-know-who1
 ,mrs4 ,thingum1 ,what's-her-name1 or1  
,how-d'ye-call  her1 is exceedingly     
aukward and vulgar4 ',tis the same to   
address people  by improper titles1 as  
sir for my lord2 to begin a story       
without  being able to finish it1 and   
break off in the middle1 with ,i have   
forgot the rest4    #ab4 ,our voice and 
manner of speaking1 too1 should likewise
 be attended  to4 ,some will mumble over
 their words1 so as not to be           
intelligible1 and  others will speak so 
fast as not to be understood1 and in    
doing this1  will sputter and spit in   
your face2 some will bawl as if they    
were  speaking to the deaf3 others will 
speak so low as scarcely to be heard2   
and many will put their faces so close  

to your's as to offend you with  their  
breath4    #ac4 ,all these habits are   
horrid and disgustful1 but may easily be
 got  the better of with care4 ,they are
 the vulgar characteristics of a        
low-bred man1 or are proofs that very   
little pains have been bestowed in  his 
education4 ,in short1 an attention to   
these little matters is of  greater     
importance than you are aware of2 many a
 sensible man having  lost ground for   
want of these little graces1 and many a 
one possessed of  these perfections     
alone1 having made his way through life1
 that  otherwise would not have been    
noticed4      ,cleanliness of ,person4  
#ad4 ,but as no one can please in       
company1 however graceful his air1      
unless he be clean and neat in his      
person1 this qualification comes next   
to be considered4    #ae4 ,negligence of
 one's person not only implies an       
unsufferable  indolence1 but an         
indifference whether we please or not4  
,in others1 it  betrays an insolence and

 affectation1 arising from a presumption
 that  they are sure of pleasing1       
without having recourse to those means  
by  which many are obliged to use4      
#af4 ,he who is not thoroughly clean in 
his person1 will be offensive to  all he
 converses with4 ,a particular regard to
 the cleanness of your  mouth1 teeth1   
hands and nails1 is but common decency4 
,a foul mouth and  unclean hands are    
certain marks of vulgarity2 the first is
 the cause of  an offensive breath1     
which nobody can bear1 and the last is  
declaratory  of dirty work2 one may     
always know a gentleman by the state of 
his hands  and nails4 ,the flesh at the 
roots should be kept back1 so as to shew
 the  semicircles at the bottom of the  
nails2 the edges of the nails should    
never be cut down below the ends of the 
fingers2 nor should they be  suffered to
 grow longer than the fingers4    #ag4  
,when the nails are cut down to the     
quick1 it is a shrewd sign that  the man
 is a mechanic1 to whom long nails would

 be troublesome1 or that  he gets his   
bread by fiddling2 and if they are      
longer than his fingers  ends1 and      
encircled with a black rim1 it foretells
 he has been  laboriously and meanly    
employed1 and too fatigued to clean     
himself3 a  good apology for want of    
cleanliness in a mechanic1 but the      
greatest  disgrace that can attend a    
gentleman4    #ah4 ,these things may    
appear too significant to be mentioned2 
but when it  is considered that a       
thousand little nameless things1 which  
every one  feels but no one can         
describe1 conspire to form that whole of
  pleasing1 ,i hope you will not call   
them trifling4 ,besides a clean shirt   
and a clean person are as necessary to  
health1 as not to offend other  people4 
,it is a maxim with me1 which ,i have   
lived to see verified1 that  he who is  
negligent at twenty years of age1 will  
be a sloven at forty1  and intolerable  
at fifty4      ,dress4    #ai4 ,neatness
 of person ,i observed was as necessary 

as cleanliness2 of  course some         
attention must be paid to your dress4   
,such is the absurdity of the times1    
that to pass well with the world1 we    
must adopt some of its customs1 be they 
ridiculous or not4    #bj4 ,in the first
 place1 to neglect one's dress is to    
affront all the  female part of our     
acquaintance4 ,the women in particular  
pay an  attention to their dress2 to    
neglect1 therefore1 your's1 will        
displease  them1 as it would be tacitly 
taxing them with vanity1 and declaring  
that  you thought them not worth the    
respect which every body else does4     
,and1  as ,i have mentioned before1 as  
it is the women who stamp a young man's 
credit in the fashionable world1 if you 
do not make yourself agreeable  to the  
women1 you will assuredly lose ground   
among the men4    #ba4 ,dress1 as       
trifling as it may appear to a man of   
understanding1  prepossesses on the     
first appearance1 which is frequently   
decisive2 and  indeed we may form some  

opinion of a man's sense and character  
from his  dress4 ,any exceeding of the  
fashion1 or any affectation in dress    
whatever1 argues a weakness of          
understanding1 and nine times out of ten
  it will be found so4    #bb4 ,there   
are few young fellows but what display  
some character or other  in this shape4 
,some would be thought fearless and     
brave3 these wear a  black cravat1 a    
short coat and waistcoat1 an uncommon   
long sword hanging  to their knees1 a   
large hat fiercely cocked1 and are flash
 all over4  ,others affect to be country
 squires2 these will go about in        
buckskin  breeches1 brawn frocks1 and   
great oaken cudgels in their hands1     
slouched  hats1 with their hair         
undressed and tucked up behind them to  
an enormous  size1 and imitate grooms   
and country boobies so well externally1 
that  there is not the least doubt of   
their resembling them as well           
internally4    #bc4 ,others1 again1     
paint and powder themselves so much1 and

 dress so  finically1 as leads us to    
suppose they are only women in boy's    
clothes4  ,now a sensible man carefully 
avoids all this1 or any other           
affectation4  ,he dresses as fashionable
 and well as persons of the best        
families and  best sense2 if he exceeds 
them1 he is a coxcomb2 if he dresses    
worse1 he  is unpardonable4    #bd4     
,dress yourself fine1 then1 if possible1
 or plain1 agreeable to the  company you
 are in2 that is1 conform to the dress  
of others1 and avoid  the appearance of 
being tumbled4 ,imitate those reasonable
 people of your  own age1 whose dress is
 neither remarked as too neglected or   
too much  studied4 ,take care to have   
your clothes well made1 in the fashion1 
and  to fit you1 or you will1 after all1
 appear aukward4 ,when once dressed1    
think no more of it2 shew no fear of    
discomposing your dress1 but let  all   
your motions be as easy and             
unembarrassed1 as if you was at home in 
your dishabille4      ,elegance of      

,expression4    #be4 ,having mentioned  
elegance of person1 ,i will proceed to  
elegance of  expression4    ,it is not  
one or two qualifications alone that    
will complete the  gentleman2 it must be
 an union of many2 and graceful speaking
 is as  essential as gracefulness of    
person4 ,every man cannot be an         
harmonious  speaker2 a roughness or     
coarseness of voice may prevent it2 but 
if there  are no natural imperfections1 
if a man does not stammer or lisp1 or   
has  not lost his teeth1 he may speak   
gracefully2 nor will all these defects1 
if he has a mind to it1 prevent him from
 speaking correctly4    #bf4 ,nobody can
 attend with pleasure to a bad speaker4 
,one who tells his  story ill1 be it    
ever so important1 will tire even the   
most patient4 ,if  you have been present
 at the performance of a good tragedy1  
you have  doubtless been sensible of the
 good effects of a speech well          
delivered2  how much it has interested  
and affected you2 and on the contrary1  

how  much an ill-spoken one has         
disgusted you4    #bg4 ',tis the same in
 common conversation2 he who speaks     
deliberately1  distinctly and correctly2
 he who makes use of the best words to  
express  himself1 and varies his voice  
according to the nature of the subject1 
will always please1 while the thick or  
hasty speaker1 he who mumbles out  a set
 of ill-chosen words1 utters them       
ungrammatically1 or with a dull         
monotony1 will tire and disgust4 ,be    
assured then1 the air1 the gesture1  the
 looks of a speaker1 a proper accent1 a 
just emphasis1 and tuneful  cadence1 are
 full as necessary1 to please and to be 
attended to1 as the  subject matter     
itself4    #bh4 ,people may talk what   
they will of solid reasoning and sound  
sense2  without the graces and ornaments
 of language1 they will neither please  
nor persuade4 ,in common discourse1 even
 trifles elegantly expressed1  will be  
better received1 than the best of       
arguments homespun and  unadorned4      

#bi4 ,a good way to acquire a graceful  
utterance1 is to read aloud to some     
friend every day1 and beg of him to set 
you right1 in case you read too  fast1  
do not observe the proper stops1 lay    
wrong emphasis1 or utter your  words    
indistinctly4 ,you may even read aloud  
to yourself where such a  friend is not 
at hand1 and you will find your own ear 
a good corrector4  ,take care to open   
your teeth when you read or speak1 and  
articulate  every word distinctly2 which
 last cannot be done but by sounding the
  final letter4 ,but above all1         
endeavour to vary your voice according  
to  the matter1 and avoid a monotony4   
,by a daily attention to this1 it will  
in a little time become easy and        
habitual to you4    #cj4 ,pay an        
attention also to your looks and your   
gesture1 when talking  even on the most 
trifling subjects3 things appear very   
different  according as they are        
expressed1 looked and delivered4        
,now1 if it is necessary to attend so   

particularly to our manner of  speaking1
 it is much more so with regard to the  
matter4 ,fine turns of  expression1 a   
genteel and correct style1 are ornaments
 as requisite to  common sense1 as      
polite behaviour and an elegant address 
are to common  good manners2 they are   
great assistants in the point of        
pleasing4 ,a  gentleman1 'tis true1 may 
be known in the meanest garb1 but it    
admits  not of a doubt1 that he would be
 better received into good company      
genteely and fashionably dressed1 than  
was he to appear in dirt and  tatters4  
#ca4 ,be careful1 then1 of your style   
upon all occasions2 whether you  write  
or speak1 study for the best words and  
best expressions1 even in  common       
conversation and the most familiar      
letters4 ,this will prevent  your       
speaking in a hurry1 than which nothing 
is more vulgar2 though you  may be a    
little embarrassed at first1 time and   
use will render it easy4  ,it is no such
 difficult thing to express ourselves   

well on subjects we  are thoroughly     
acquainted with1 if we think before we  
speak2 and no one  should presume to do 
otherwise4    #cb4 ,when you have said a
 thing1 if you did not reflect before1  
be sure  to do it after wards3 consider 
with yourself whether you could not have
  expressed yourself better2 and if you 
are in doubt of the propriety or        
elegancy of any word1 search for it in  
some dictionary1 or some good  author1  
while you remember it2 never be sparing 
of your trouble while  you wish to      
improve1 and my word for it1 a very     
little time will make  this matter      
habitual4    #cc4 ,in order to speak    
grammatically1 and to express yourself  
pleasingly1  ,i would recommend it to   
you to translate often1 any language you
 are  acquainted with1 into ,english1   
and to correct such translation till the
  words1 their order1 and the periods1  
are agreeable to your own ear4          
,vulgarism in language is another       
distinguishing mark of bad company and  

education4 ,expressions may be correct  
in themselves and yet be vulgar1  owing 
to their not being fashionable2 for     
language as manners are both            
established for the usage of people of  
fashion4    #cd4 ,the conversation of a 
low-bred man is filled up with proverbs 
and  hackneyed sayings2 instead of      
observing that tastes are different1 and
  that most men have one peculiar to    
themselves1 he will give you--,what  is 
one man's meat is another man's poison2 
or1 ,every one to their  liking1 as the 
old woman said1 when she kissed her cow4
 ,he has ever  some favourite word1     
which he lugs in upon all occasions1    
right or  wrong2 such as vastly angry1  
vastly kind2 devilish ugly1  devilish   
handsome2 immensely great1 immensely    
little4    #ce4 ,even his pronunciation 
carries the mark of vulgarity along with
 it2  he calls the earth yearth2 finan' 
ces1 fin' ances1 he goes to  wards1 and 
not towards such a place4 ,he affects to
 use hard words1 to  give him the       

appearance of a man of learning1 but    
frequently mistakes  their meaning1 and 
seldom1 if ever1 pronounces them        
properly4    ,all this must be avoided1 
if you would not be supposed to have    
kept  company with foot-men and         
house-maids4 ,never have recourse to    
proverbial  or vulgar sayings2 use      
neither favourite nor hard words1 but   
seek for  the most elegant2 be careful  
in the management of them1 and depend on
 it  your labour will not be lost2 for  
nothing is more engaging than a         
fashionable and polite address4         
,small-,talk4    #cf4 ,in all good      
company we meet with a certain manner1  
phraseology and  general conversation1  
that distinguishes the man of fashion4  
,this can  only be acquired by          
frequenting good company1 and being     
particularly  attentive to all that     
passes there4    #cg4 ,when invited to  
dine or sup at the house of any         
well-bred man1  observe how he does the 
honours of his table1 and mark his      

manner of  treating his company4        
,attend to the compliments of           
congratulation or condolence that he    
pays2  and take notice of his address to
 his superiors1 his equals1 and his     
inferiors2 nay1 his very looks and tone 
of voice are worth your  attention1 for 
we cannot please without an union of    
them all4    #ch4 ,there is a certain   
distinguishing diction that marks the   
man of  fashion1 a certain language of  
conversation that every gentleman should
  be master of4 ,saying to a man just   
married1 ,i wish you joy1 or to one  who
 has lost his wife1 ,i am sorry for your
 loss1 and both perhaps with  an        
unmeaning countenance1 may be civil1 but
 it is nevertheless vulgar4 ,a  man of  
fashion will express the same thing more
 elegantly1 and with a  look of         
sincerity1 that shall attract the esteem
 of the person he speaks  to4 ,he will  
advance to the one1 with warmth and     
cheerfulness1 and  perhaps squeezing him
 by the hand1 will say1 ,believe me1 my 

dear sir1 ,i  have scarce words to      
express the joy ,i feel1 upon your happy
 alliance  with such or such a family1  
c4 ,to the other in affliction he will  
advance slowly1 and with a peculiar     
composure of voice and countenance1     
begin his compliments of condolence     
with1 ,i hope1 sir1 you will do me  the 
justice to be persuaded1 that ,i am not 
insensible of your  unhappiness1 that ,i
 take part in your distress1 and shall  
ever be  affected where you are so4     
#ci4 ,your first address to1 and indeed 
all your conversation with your         
superiors1 should be open1 cheerful1 and
 respectful2 with your equals1  warm1   
and animated2 with your inferiors1      
hearty1 free1 and unreserved4    #dj4   
,there is a fashionable kind of         
small-talk1 which1 however trifling  it 
may be thought1 has its use in mixed    
companies2 of course you should         
endeavour to acquire it4 ,by small-talk1
 ,i mean a good deal to say on          
unimportant matters3 for example1 foods1

 the flavour and growth of  wines1 and  
the chit-chat of the day4 ,such         
conversation will serve to  keep off    
serious subjects1 that might some time  
create disputes4 ,this  chit-chat is    
chiefly to be learned by frequenting the
 company of the  ladies4                
,observation4      #a4 ,as the art of   
pleasing is to be learnt only by        
frequenting the best  companies1 we must
 endeavour to pick it up in such        
companies1 by  observation2 for1 it is  
not sense and knowledge alone that will 
acquire  esteem2 these certainly are the
 first and necessary foundations for    
pleasing1 but they will by no means do1 
unless attended with manners and        
attention4    ,there have been people   
who have frequented the first companies 
till  their life-time1 and yet have     
never got rid of their natural stiffness
  and aukwardness2 but have continued as
 vulgar as if they were never out  of a 
servant's hall3 this has been owing to  
carelessness1 and a want of  attention  

to the manners and behaviour of others4 
#b4 ,there are a great many people      
likewise who busy themselves the whole  
day1 and who in fact do nothing4 ,they  
have possibly taken up a book for  two  
or three hours1 but from a certain      
inattention that grows upon them  the   
more it is indulged1 know no more of the
 contents than if they had  not looked  
into it2 nay1 it is impossible for any  
one to retain what he  reads1 unless he 
reflects and reasons upon it as he goes 
on4 ,when they  have thus lounged away  
an hour or two1 they will saunter into  
company1  without attending to any thing
 that passes there2 but1 if they think  
at  all1 are thinking of some trifling  
matter that ought not to occupy their   
attention2 thence perhaps they go to the
 play1 where they stare at the  company 
and the lights1 without attending to the
 piece1 the very thing  they went to    
see4    #c4 ,in this manner they wear   
away their hours1 that might otherwise  
he  employed to their improvement and   

advantage4 ,this silly suspension of    
thought they would have pass absence of 
mind--,ridiculous6--,wherever  you are1 
let me recommend it to you to pay       
attention to all that passes2  observe  
the characters of the persons you are   
with1 and the subjects of  their        
conversation2 listen to every thing that
 is said1 see every thing  that is done1
 and 7according to the vulgar saying7   
have your eyes and  your ears about you4
    #d4 ,a continual inattention to     
matters that occur1 is the              
characteristic  of a weak mind2 the man 
who gives way to it1 is little else than
 a  trifler1 a blank in society1 which  
every sensible person overlooks2  surely
 what is worth doing is worth doing     
well1 and nothing can be done  well if  
not properly attended to4 ,when ,i hear 
a man say1 on being asked  about any    
thing that was said or done in his      
presence1 that truly he  did not mind   
it1 ,i am ready to knock the fool down4 
,why did he not  mind it8--,what had he 

else to do8--,a man of sense and fashion
 never  makes use of this paltry plea2  
he never complains of a treacherous     
memory1 but attends to and remembers    
every thing that is said or done4    #e4
 ,whenever1 then1 you go into good      
company1 that is1 the company of  people
 of fashion1 observe carefully their    
behaviour1 their address1 and  their    
manner2 imitate it as far as in your    
power4 ,your attention1 if  possible1   
should be so ready as to observe every  
person in the room at  once1 their      
motions1 their looks1 and their turns of
 expression1 and  that without staring  
or seeming to be an observer4 ,this kind
 of  observation may be acquired by care
 and practice1 and will be found of  the
 utmost advantage to you1 in the course 
of life4          ,absence of ,mind4    
#a4 ,having mentioned absence of mind1  
let me be more particular  concerning   
it4    ,what the world calls an absent  
man is generally either a very affected 
one or a very weak one2 but whether weak

 or affected1 he is1 in company1  a very
 disagreeable man4 ,lost in thought1 or 
possibly in no thought at  all1 he is a 
stranger to every one present1 and to   
every thing that  passes2 he knows not  
his best friends1 is deficient in every 
act of good  manners1 unobservant of the
 actions of the company1 and insensible 
to  his own4    #b4 ,his answers are    
quite the reverse of what they ought to 
be2 talk to  him of one thing1 he       
replies1 as of another4 ,he forgets what
 he said  last1 leaves his hat in one   
room1 his cane in another1 and his sword
 in  a third2 nay1 if it was not for his
 buckles1 he would even leave his  shoes
 behind him4 ,neither his arms nor his  
legs seem to be a part of his  body1 and
 his head is never in a right position4 
,he joins not in the  general           
conversation1 except it be by fits and  
starts1 as if awaking  from a dream2 ,i 
attribute this either to weakness or    
affectation4    #c4 ,his shallow mind is
 possibly not able to attend to more    

than one  thing at a time1 or he would  
be supposed wrapt up in the             
investigation  of some very important   
matter4 ,such men as ,sir ,isaac ,newton
 or ,mr4  ,locke1 might occasionally    
have some excuse for absence of mind2 it
  might proceed from that intenseness of
 thought that was necessary at all      
times for the scientific subjects they  
were studying2 but1 for a young  man1   
and a man of the world1 who has no such 
plea to make1 absence of  mind is a     
rudeness to the company1 and deserves   
the severest censure4    #d4 ,however   
insignificant a company may be2 however 
trifling their  conversation2 while you 
are with them1 do not shew them by any  
inattention that you think them         
trifling2 that can never be the way to  
please2 but rather fall in with their   
weakness than otherwise1 for to         
mortify1 or shew the least contempt to  
those we are in company with1 is  the   
greatest rudeness we can be guilty of2  
and what few can forgive4    #e4 ,i     

never yet found a man inattentive to the
 person he feared1 or the  woman he     
loved2 which convinces me that absence  
of mind is to be got the  better of1 if 
we think proper to make the trial2 and  
believe me1 it is  always worth the     
attempt4    ,absence of mind is a tacit 
declaration1 that those we are in       
company  with are not worth attending   
to2 and what can be a greater           
affront8--,besides1 can an absent man   
improve by what is said or done in  his 
presence8--,no2 he may frequent the best
 companies for years  together1 and all 
to no purpose4 ,in short1 a man is      
neither fit for  business nor           
conversation1 unless he can attend to   
the object before  him1 be that object  
what it will4          ,knowledge of the
 ,world4      #a4 ,a knowledge of the   
world1 by our own experience and        
observation1 is  so necessary1 that     
without it we shall act very absurdly1  
and frequently  give offence when we do 
not mean it4 ,all the learning and parts

 in the  world will not secure us from  
it4 ,without an acquaintance with life1 
a  man may say very good things1 but    
time them so ill1 and address them so   
improperly1 that he had much better be  
silent4 ,full of himself and his  own   
business1 and inattentive to the        
circumstances and situations of  those  
he converses with1 he vents it without  
the least discretion1 says  things that 
he ought not to say1 confutes some1     
shocks others1 and puts  the whole      
company in pain1 lest what he utters    
next should prove worse  than the last4 
,the best direction ,i can give you in  
this matter1 is1  rather to fall in with
 the conversation of others1 than start 
a subject  of your own3 rather strive to
 put them more in conceit with          
themselves1  than to draw their         
attention to you4    #b4 ,a novice in   
life1 he who knows little of mankind1   
but what he  collects from books1 lays  
it down as a maxim1 that most men love  
flattery2 in order therefore to please1 

he will flatter3 but1 how8  ,without    
regard either to circumstances or       
occasions4 ,instead of those  delicate  
touches1 those soft tints1 that serve to
 heighten the piece1 he  lays on his    
colours with a heavy hand1 and daubs    
where he means to  adorn3 in other      
words1 he will flatter so unseasonably1 
and1 at the same  time1 so grossly1 that
 while he wishes to please he puts out  
of  countenance and is sure to offend4  
,on the contrary1 a man of the world1   
one who has made life his study1 knows  
the power of flattery as well as  he2   
but then he knows how to apply it2 he   
watches the opportunity1 and  does it   
indirectly1 by inference1 comparison and
 hint4    #c4 ,man is made up of such a 
variety of matter1 that1 to search him  
thoroughly1 requires time and attention2
 for1 though we are all made of  the    
same materials1 and have all the same   
passions1 yet1 from a  difference in    
their proportion and combination1 we    
vary in our  dispositions2 what is      

agreeable to one is disagreeable to     
another1 and  what one shall approve1   
another shall condemn4 ,reason is given 
us to  controul these passions1 but     
seldom does it4 ,application therefore  
to  the reason of any man will          
frequently prove ineffectual1 unless we 
endeavour at the same time to gain his  
heart4    #d4 ,wherever then you are1   
search into the characters of men2 find 
out1  if possible1 their foible1 their  
governing2 passion1 or their particular 
merit2 take them on their weak side1 and
 you will generally succeed3  their     
prevailing vanity you may readily       
discover1 by observing2 their  favourite
 topic of conversation1 for every one   
talks most of what he  would be thought 
most to excel in4    #e4 ,the time      
should also be judiciously made choice  
of4 ,every man has his  particular times
 when he may be applied to with success1
 the mollia  tempora fandi3 but these   
times are not all the day long2 they    
must be  found out1 watched1 and taken  

advantage of4 ,you could not hope for   
success in applying to a man about one  
business1 when he was taken up  with    
another1 or when his mind was affected  
with excess of grief1 anger1  or the    
like4    #f4 ,you cannot judge of other 
men's minds better than by studying your
  own2 for1 though some men have one    
foible1 and another has another1 yet    
men1 in general1 are very much alike4   
,whatever pleases or offends you1  will 
in similar circumstances1 please or     
offend others2 if you find  yourself    
hurt when another1 makes you feel his   
superiority1 you will  certainly1 upon  
the common rule of right1 do as you     
would be done by1  take care not to let 
another feel your superiority1 if you   
have it1  especially if you wish to gain
 his interest or esteem4    #g4 ,if     
disagreeable insinuations1 open         
contradictions1 or oblique sneers  vex  
and anger you1 would you use them where 
you wished to please8  certainly not4   
,observe then with care the operations  

of your own mind2  and you may in a     
great measure read all mankind4    ,i   
will allow that one bred up in a        
cloister or college1 may reason  well on
 the structure of the human mind2 he may
 investigate the nature  of man1 and    
give a tolerable account of his head1   
his heart1 his  passions2 and his       
sentiments3 but at the same time he may 
know nothing  of him2 he has not lived  
with him1 and of course can know but    
little how  those sentiments or those   
passions will work2 he must be ignorant 
of the  various prejudices1 propensities
 and antipathies1 that always bias him  
and frequently determine him4    #h4    
,his knowledge is acquired only from    
theory1 which differs widely from       
practice2 and if1 he forms his judgment 
from that alone1 he must be  often      
deceived2 whereas a man of the world1   
one who collects his  knowledge from his
 own experience and observation1 is     
seldom wrong2 he  is well acquainted    
with the operations of the human mind1  

prys into the  heart of man1 reads      
his-words before they are utttered1 sees
 his actions  before they are performed1
 knows what will please1 and what will  
displease2 and foresees the event of    
most things4    #i4 ,labour then to     
require this intuitive knowledge2 attend
 carefully to  the address1 the arts and
 manners of those acquainted with life1 
and  endeavour to imitate them4 ,observe
 the means they take to gain the        
favour1 and conciliate the affections of
 those they associate with2  pursue     
those means1 and you will soon gain the 
esteem of all that know  you4    ,how   
often have we seen men governed by      
persons very much their inferiors  in   
point of understanding1 and even without
 their knowing it8 ,a proof  that some  
men have more worldly dexterity than    
others2 they find out the  weak and     
unguarded part1 make their attack there1
 and the man  surrenders4    #aj4 ,now  
from a knowledge of mankind we shall    
learn the advantage of two  things1 the 

command of our temper and our           
countenance3 a trifling1  disagreeable  
incident shall perhaps anger one        
unacquainted withlife1 or  confound him 
with same2 shall make him rave like a   
madman1 or look like  a fool3 but a man 
of the world will never understand what 
he cannot or  ought not to resent4 ,if  
he should chance to make a slip himself1
 he will  stifle his confusion1 and turn
 it off with a jest2 recovering it with 
coolness4    #aa4 ,many people have     
sense enough to keep their own secrets2 
but from  being unused to a variety of  
company1 have unfortunately such a      
tell-tale countenance1 as involuntarily 
declares what they would wish to        
conceal4 ,this is a great unhappiness2  
and should as soon as possible be  got  
the better of4    ,that coolness of mind
 and evenness of countenance1 which     
prevents a  discovery of our sentiments1
 by our words1 our actions1 or our      
looks1 is  too necessary to pass        
unnoticed4    #ab4 ,a man who cannot    

hear displeasing things1 without visible
 marks of  anger or uneasiness2 or      
pleasing ones1 without a sudden burst of
 joy1 a  cheerful eye1 or an expanded   
face1 is at the mercy of every knave3   
for  either they will designedly please 
or provoke you themselves1 to catch     
your unguarded looks2 or they will seize
 the opportunity thus to read  your very
 heart1 when any other shall do it4 ,you
 may possibly tell me1  that this       
coolness must be natural1 for if not1   
you can never acquire  it4    #ac4 ,i   
will admit the force of constitution1   
but people are very apt to  blame that  
for many things they might readily      
avoid4 ,care1 with a little  reflection1
 will soon give you this mastery of your
 temper and your  countenance4 ,if you  
find yourself subject to sudden starts  
of passion1  determine with yourself not
 to utter a single word till your reason
 has  recovered itself2 and resolve to  
keep your countenance as unmoved as     
possible4    #ad4 ,as a man who at a    

card-table can preserve a serenity in   
his looks1  under good or bad luck1 has 
considerably the advantage of one who   
appears elated with success1 or cast    
down with ill fortune1 from our  being  
able to read his cards in his face2 so  
the man of the world1  having to deal   
with one of these babbling countenances1
 will take care  to profit by the       
circumstance1 let the consequence1 to   
him with whom he  deals1 be as injurious
 as it may4    #ae4 ,in the course of   
life1 we shall find it necessary very   
often to put  on a pleasing countenance 
when1 we are exceedingly displeased2 we 
must  frequently seem friendly when we  
are quite otherwise4 ,i am sensible it  
is difficult to accost a man with smiles
 whom we know to be our enemy3  but what
 is to be done8 ,on receiving an affront
 if you cannot be  justified in knocking
 the offender down1 you must not notice 
the  offence2 for in the eye of the     
world1 taking an affront calmly is      
considered as cowardice4    #af4 ,if    

fools should at any time attempt to be  
witty upon you1 the best  way is not to 
know their witticisms are levelled at   
you1 but to conceal  any uneasiness it  
may give you3 but1 should they be so    
plain that you  cannot be thought       
ignorant of their meaning1 ,i would     
recommend1 rather  than quarrel with the
 company1 joining even in the laugh     
against  yourself3 allow the jest to be 
a good one1 and take it in seeming good 
humour4 ,never attempt to retaliate the 
same way1 as that would imply you  were 
hurt4 ,should what is said wound your   
honour or your moral  character1 there  
is but one proper reply1 which ,i hope  
you will never be  obliged to have      
recourse to4    #ag4 ,remember there are
 but two alternatives for a gentleman2  
extreme  politeness1 or the sword4 ,if a
 man openly and designedly affronts you1
  call him oat2 but if it does not      
amount to an open insult1 be outwardly  
civil2 if this does not make him ashamed
 of his behaviour1 it will  prejudice   

every by-stander in your favour1 and    
instead of being  disgraced1 you will   
come off with honour4 ,politeness to    
those we do not  respect1 is no more a  
breach of faith than your humble servant
 at the  bottom of a challenge2 they are
 universally understood to be things of 
course4    #ah4 ,wrangling and          
quarreling are characteristics of a weak
 mind3 leave  that to the women1 be you 
always above it4 ,enter into no sharp   
contest1 and pride yourself in shewing1 
if possible1 more civility to  your     
antagonist than to any other in the     
company2 this will infallibly  bring    
over all the laughter to your side1 and 
the person you are  contending with will
 be very likely to confess you have     
behaved very  handsomely throughout the 
whole affair4    #ai4 ,experience will  
teach us that though all men consist    
principally of  the same materials1 as  
,i before took notice1 yet from a       
difference in  their proportion1 no two 
men are uniformly the same3 we differ   

from one  another1 and we often differ  
from ourselves1 that is1 we sometimes do
  things utterly inconsistent with the  
general tenor of our characters4  ,the  
wisest man will occasionally do a weak  
thing3 the most honest man1 a  wrong    
thing2 the proudest man1 a mean thing2  
and the worst of men will  sometimes do 
a good thing4    #bj4 ,on this account1 
our study of mankind should not be      
general2 we  should take a frequent view
 of individuals1 and though we may upon 
the  whole form a judgment of the man   
from his prevailing passion or his      
general character1 yet it will be       
prudent not to determine1 till we have  
waited to see the operation of his      
subordinate appetites and humours4      
#ba4 ,for example2 a man's general      
character maybe that of strictly        
honest2 ,i would not dispute it1 because
 ,i would not be thought envious  or    
malevolent2 but ,i would not rely upon  
this general character1 so as  to       
entrust him with my fortune or my life4 

,should this honest man1 as is  not     
common1 be my rival in power1 interest1 
or love1 he may possibly do  things that
 in other circumstances he would abhor2 
and power1 interest1  and love1 let me  
tell you1 will often put honesty to the 
severest trial1  and frequently         
overpower it4 ,i would then ransack this
 honest man to the  bottom1 if ,i wished
 to trust him1 and as ,i found him1     
would place my  confidence accordingly4 
#bb4 ,one of the great compositions in  
our nature is vanity1 to which1 all     
men1 more or less1 give way4 ,women have
 an intolerable share of it4 ,so        
flattery1 no adulation is too gross for 
them2 those who flatter them  most      
please them best1 and they are most in  
love with him who pretends  to be most  
in love with them2 and the least slight 
or contempt of them  is never forgotten4
 ,it is in some measure the same with   
men2 they will  sooner pardon an injury 
than an insult1 and are more hurt by    
contempt  than by ill-usage4 ,though all

 men do not boast of superior talents1  
though they pretend not to the abilities
 of a ,pope1 a ,newton1 or a            
,bollingbroke1 every one pretends to    
have common sense1 and to  discharge his
 office in life with common decency2 to 
arraign therefore1  in any shape1 his   
abilities or integrity in the department
 he holds1 is  an insult he will not    
readily forgive4    #bc4 ,as ,i would   
not have you trust too implicitly to a  
man1 because the  world gives him a good
 character2 so ,i must particularly     
caution you  against those who speak    
well of themselves4 ,in general1 suspect
 those  who boast of or affect to have  
any one virtue above all others1 for    
they  are commonly impostors4 ,there are
 exceptions1 however1 to this rule1 for 
we hear of prudes that have been made   
chaste1 bullies that have been  brave1  
and saints that have been religious4    
,confide only where your own            
observation shall direct you2 observe   
not only what is said1 but how it  is   

said1 and if you have penetration1 you  
may find out the truth better  by your  
eyes than your ears2 in short1 never    
take a character upon  common report1   
but enquire into it yourself2 for common
 report1 though  it is right in general1
 may be wrong in particulars4    #bd4   
,beware of those who1 on a slight       
acquaintance1 make a tender of  their   
friendship1 and seem to place a         
confidence in you2 'tis ten to one  but 
they deceive and betray you3 however1 do
 not rudely reject them upon  such a    
supposition2 you may be civil to them1  
though you do not entrust  them4 ,silly 
men are apt to solicit your friendship1 
and unbosom  themselves upon the first  
acquaintance3 such friends cannot be    
worth  hearing1 their friendship being  
as slender as their understanding2 and  
if they proffer their friendship with a 
design to make a property of  you1 they 
are dangerous acquaintance indeed4      
#be4 ,not but the little friendships of 
the weak may be of some use to  you1 if 

you do not return the compliment2 and it
 may not be amiss to  seem to accept    
those of designing men1 keeping them1 as
 it were1 in  play1 that they may not be
 openly your enemies2 for their enmity  
is the  next dangerous thing to their   
friendship4 ,we may certainly hold their
  vices in abhorrence1 without being    
marked out as their personal enemy4     
,the general rule is to have a real     
reserve with almost every one1 and a    
seeming reserve with almost no one2 for 
it is very disgusting to seem  reserved1
 and very dangerous not to be so4 ,few  
observe the true medium4  ,many are     
ridiculously misterious upon trifles and
 many indiscreetly  communicative of all
 they know4    #cf4 ,there is a kind of 
short-lived friendship that takes place 
among  young men1 from a connection in  
their pleasures only2 a friendship too  
often attended with bad consequences4   
,this companion of your pleasures1      
young and unexperienced1 will probably1 
in the heat of convivial mirth1  vow a  

perpetual friendship1 and unfold himself
 to you without the least  reserve2 but 
new associations1 change of fortune1 or 
change of place1  may soon break this   
ill-timed connection1 and an improper   
use may be  made of it4    #bg4 ,be one1
 if you will1 in young companies1 and   
bear your part like  others in the      
social festivity of youth2 nay1 trust   
them with your  innocent frolics1 but   
keep your serious matters to yourself2  
and if you  must at any time make them  
known1 let it be to some tried friend of
  great experience2 and that nothing may
 tempt him to become your rival1  let   
that friend be in a different walk of   
life from yourself4    ,were ,i to hear 
a man making strong protestations1 and  
swearing to the  truth of a thing1 that 
is in itself probable1 and very likely  
to be1 ,i  shall doubt his veracity2 for
 when he takes such pains to make me    
believe it1 it cannot be with a good    
design4    #bh4 ,there is a certain     
easiness or false modesty in most young 

people1  that either makes them         
unwilling1 or ashamed to refuse any     
thing that is  asked of them4 ,there is 
also an unguarded openness about them1  
that  makes them the ready prey of the  
artful and designing4 ,they are easily  
led away by the feigned friendships of a
 knave or a fool1 and too rashly  place 
a confidence in them1 that terminates in
 their loss1 and  frequently in their   
ruin4 ,beware1 therefore1 as ,i said    
before1 of these  proffered friendships2
 repay them with compliments1 but not   
with  confidence4 ,never let your vanity
 make you suppose that people become    
your friends upon a slight acquaintance3
 for good offices must be shewn  on both
 sides to create a friendship2 it will  
not thrive1 unless its  love be mutual2 
and it requires time to ripen it4       
#bi4 ,there is still among young people 
another kind of friendship merely       
nominal1 warm indeed for the time1 but  
fortunately of no long  continuance4    
,this friendship takes its rise from    

their pursuing the same  course of riot 
and debauchery2 their purses are open to
 each other1  they tell one another all 
they know1 they embark in the same      
quarrels1  and stand by each other on   
all occasions4 ,i should rather call    
this a  confederacy against good morals 
and good manners1 and think it deserves 
the severest lash of the law2 but they  
have the impudence to call it           
friendship4 ,however1 it is often as    
suddenly dissolved as it is hastily     
contracted2 some accident disperses     
them1 and they presently forget each    
other1 except it is to betray and laugh 
at their own egregious folly4    ,in    
short1 the sum of the whole is1 to make 
a wide difference between  companions   
and friend2 for a very agreeable        
companion has often proved a  very      
dangerous friend4            ,choice of 
,company4      #a4 ,the next thing to   
the choice of friends is the choice of  
your  company4    ,endeavour as much as 
you can to keep good company1 and the   

company of  your superiors3 for you will
 be held in estimation according to the 
company you keep4 ,by superiors ,i do   
not mean so much with regard to  birth1 
as merit and the light in which they are
 considered by the world4    #b4 ,there 
are two sorts of good company2 the one  
consists of persons of  birth1 rank1 and
 fashion2 the other of those who are    
distinguished by  some peculiar merit1  
in any liberal art or science2 as men of
 letters1  c4 and a mixture of these is 
what ,i would have understood by good   
company2 for it is not what particular  
sets of people shall call  themselves1  
but what the people in general          
acknowledge to be so1 and are  the      
accredited good company of the place4   
#c4 ,now and then1 persons without      
either birth1 rank1 or character1 will  
creep into good company1 under the      
protection of some considerable         
personage2 but1 in general1 none are    
admitted of mean degree1 or  infamous   
moral character4    ,in this fashionable

 good company alone1 can you learn the  
best manners  and the best language1    
for1 as there is no legal standard to   
form them  by1 'tis here they are       
established4    ,it may possibly be     
questioned whether a man has it always  
in his power  to get into good company3 
undoubtedly1 by deserving it1 he has2   
provided  he is in circumstances which  
enable him to live and appear in the    
style  of a gentleman4 ,knowledge1      
modesty1 and good-breeding1 will endear 
him  to all that see him2 for without   
politeness1 the scholar is no better    
than a pedant1 the philosopher than a   
cynic1 the soldier than a brute1  nor   
any man than a clown4    #d4 ,though the
 company of men of learning and genius  
is highly to be  valued1 and            
occasionally coveted1 ,i would by no    
means have you always  found in such    
company4 ,as they do not live in the    
world1 they cannot  have that easy      
manner and address which ,i would wish  
you to acquire4 ,if  you can bear a part

 in such company1 it is certainly       
adviseable to be in  it sometimes1 and  
you will be the more esteemed in other  
company by  being so2 but let it not    
engross you1 lest you be considered as  
one of  the literati1 which1 however    
respectable in name1 is not the way to  
rise or shine in the fashionable world4 
#e4 ,but the company1 which1 of all     
others1 you should carefully avoid1 is  
that1 which1 in every sense of the word1
 may be called low2 low in  birth1 low  
in rank1 low in parts1 and low in       
manners2 that company1 who1             
insignificant and contemptible in       
themselves1 think it an honour to be    
seen with you1 and who will flatter your
 follies1 nay1 your very  vices1 to keep
 you with them4    #f4 ,though you may  
think such a caution unnecessary1 ,i do 
not2 for  many a young gentleman of     
sense and rank has been led by his      
vanity to  keep such company1 till he   
has been degraded1 villified and undone4
    ,the vanity ,i mean1 is that of     

being the first of the company4 ,this   
pride1 though too common1 is idle to the
 last degree4 ,nothing in the  world    
lets a man down so much4 ,for the sake  
of dictating1 being  applauded and      
admired by this low company1 he is      
disgraced and  disqualified for better4 
,depend upon it1 in the estimation of   
mankind  you will sink or rise to the   
level of the company you keep4    #g4   
,be it then your ambition to get into   
the best company2 and1 when  there1     
imitate their virtues1 but not their    
vices4 ,you have no doubt1  often heard 
of genteel and fashionable vices4 ,these
 are whoring1  drinking1 and gaming4 ,it
 has happened that some men even with   
these  vices1 have been admired and     
esteemed4 ,understand this matter       
rightly2  it is not their vices for     
which they are admired2 but for some    
accomplishments they at the same time   
possess2 for their parts1 their         
learning1 or their good-breeding4 ,be   
assured1 were they free from their      

vices1 they would be much more esteemed4
 ,in these mixed characters1 the  bad   
part is overlooked1 for the sake of the 
good4    #h4 ,should you be unfortunate 
enough to have any vices of your own1   
add  not to their number by adopting the
 vices of others4 ,vices of adoption    
are of all others the most unpardonable1
 for they have not inadvertency  to     
plead4 ,if people had no vices but their
 own1 few would have so many  as they   
have4    ,imitate1 then1 only the       
perfections you meet with2 copy the     
politeness1  the address1 the easy      
manners of well-bred people2 and        
remember1 let  them shine ever so       
bright1 if they have any vices1 they are
 so many  blemishes1 which it would be  
as ridiculous to imitate1 as it would to
  make an artificial wart on one's face1
 because some very handsome man  had the
 misfortune to have a natural one upon  
his4            ,laughter4      #a4 ,let
 us now descend to minuter matters1     
which1 tho' not so important  as those  

we have mentioned1 are still far from   
inconsiderable4 ,of these  laughter is  
one4    ,frequent and loud laughter is a
 sure sign of a weak mind1 and no less  
characteristic of a low education4 ,it  
is the manner in which low-bred  men    
express their silly joy1 at silly       
things1 and they call it being  merry4  
#b4 ,i do not recommend upon all        
occasions a solemn countenance4 ,a man  
may  smile2 but if he would be thought a
 gentleman and a man of sense1 he  would
 by no means laugh4 ,true wit never yet 
made a man of fashion laugh2  he is     
above it4 ,it may create a smile2 but as
 loud laughter shews that a  man has not
 the command of himself1 every one who  
would with to appear  sensible1 must    
abhor it4    ,a man's going to set down1
 on a supposition that he has a chair   
behind  him1 and falling for want of    
one1 occasions a general laugh1 when the
  best piece of wit would not do it3 a  
sufficient proof how low and  unbecoming
 laughter is4    #c4 ,besides1 could the

 immoderate laugher hear his own noise1 
or see the  face he makes1 he would     
despise himself for his folly4 ,laughter
 being  generally supposed to be the    
effect of gaity1 its absurdity is not   
properly attended to2 but a little      
reflection will easily restrain it1  and
 when you are told it is a mark of      
low-breeding1 ,i persuade myself  you   
will endeavour to avoid it4    #d4 ,some
 people have a silly trick of laughing  
whenever they speak1 so  that they are  
always on the grin1 and their faces are 
ever distorted4  ,this and a thousand   
other tricks1 such as scratching their  
heads1  twirling their hats1 fumbling   
with their button1 playing with their   
fingers1 c4 are acquired from a false   
modesty at their first out-set in  life4
 ,being shame-faced in company1 they try
 a variety of ways to keep  themselves  
in countenance2 thus1 they fall into    
those awkward habits ,i  have mentioned1
 which grow upon them1 and in time      
become habitual4    ,nothing is more    

repugnant likewise to good-breeding than
 horse-play of  any sort1 romping1      
throwing things at one another's heads1 
and so on4  ,they may pass well enough  
with the mob2 but they lessen and       
degrade the  gentleman4          ,sundry
 little ,accomplishments4      #a4 ,i   
have had reason to observe before1 that 
various little matters1  apparently     
trifling in themselves1 conspire to form
 the whole of  pleasing1 as in a        
well-finished portrait1 a variety of    
colours combine  to complete the piece4 
,it not being necessary to dwell much   
upon them1 ,i  shall content myself with
 just mentioning them as they occur4    
#b4 ,to do the honours of a table       
gracefully1 is one of the outlines of a 
well-bred man2 and to carve well1 is an 
article1 little as it may seem1  that is
 useful twice every day1 and the doing  
of which ill is not only  troublesome to
 one's self1 but renders us disagreeable
 and ridiculous to  others4 ,we are     
always in pain for a man who1 instead of

 cutting up a  fowl genteelly1 is       
hacking for half an hour across the     
bone1 greasing  himself1 and            
bespattering the company with the sauce4
 ,use1 with a little  attention1 is all 
that is requisite to acquit yourself    
well in this  particular4    #c4 ,to be 
well received1 you must also pay some   
attention to your  behaviour at table1  
where it is exceedingly rude to scratch 
any part of  your body2 to spit1 or blow
 your nose1 if you can possibly avoid   
it1 to  eat greedily1 to lean your      
elbows on the table1 to pick your teeth 
before the dishes are removed1 or to    
leave the table before grace is  said4  
#d4 ,drinking of healths is now growing 
out of fashion1 and is very  unpolite in
 good company4 ,custom once had made it 
universal1 but the  improved manners of 
the age now render it vulgar4 ,what can 
be more rude  or ridiculous1 than to    
interrupt persons at their meals with an
  unnecessary compliment8 ,abstain then 
from this silly custom1 where you  find 

it out of use2 and use it only at those 
tables where it continues  general4     
#e4 ,a polite manner of refusing to     
comply with the solicitations of a      
company1 is also very necessary to be   
learnt1 for a young man who seems  to   
have no will of his own1 but does every 
thing that is asked of him1  may be a   
very good-natured fellow1 but he is a   
very silly one4 ,if you  are invited to 
drink at any man's house1 more than you 
think is  wholesome1 you may say1 you   
wish you could1 but that so little makes
  you both drunk and sick1 that you     
shall only be bad company by doing it3  
of course beg to be excused4    #f4 ,if 
desired to play at cards deeper than you
 would1 refuse it  ludicrously2 tell    
them1 ,if you were sure to lose1 you    
might possibly  sit down2 but that as   
fortune may be favourable1 you dread the
 thought  of having too much money1 ever
 since you found what an incumbrance it 
was to poor ,harlequin1 and therefore   
you are resolved never to put  yourself 

in the way of winning more than such and
 such a sum a day4  ,this light way of  
declining invitations to vice and folly1
 is more  becoming a young man1 than    
philosophical or sententious refusals1  
which  would only be laughed at4    #g4 
,now ,i am on the subject of cards1 ,i  
must not omit mentioning the  necessity 
of playing them well and genteelly1 if  
you would be thought to  have kept good 
company4 ,i would by no means recommend 
playing at cards  as a part of your     
study1 lest you should grow too fond of 
it1 and the  consequences prove bad4 ,it
 were better not to know a diamond from 
a  club1 than to become a gambler2 but1 
as custom has introduced innocent  card 
playing at most friendly meetings1 it   
marks the gentleman to handle  them     
genteelly1 and play them well2 and as ,i
 hope you will play only  for small     
sums1 should you lose your money pray   
lose it with temper3 or  win1 receive   
your winnings without either elation or 
greediness4    #h4 ,to write well and   

correct1 and in a pleasing style1 is    
another part  of polite education4      
,every man who has the use of his eyes  
and his right  hand1 can write whatever 
hand he pleases4 ,nothing is so         
illiberal as a  school-boy's scrawl4 ,i 
would not have you learn a stiff formal 
hand-writing1 like that of a            
school-master1 but a genteel1 legible1  
and  liberal hand1 and to be able to    
write quick4 ,as to the correctness and 
elegancy of your writing1 attention to  
grammar does the one1 and to the  best  
authors1 the other4 ,epistolary         
correspondence should not be carried  on
 in a studied or affected style1 but the
 language should flow from the  pen1 as 
naturally and as easily as it would from
 the mouth4 ,in short1 a  letter should 
be penned in the same style as you would
 talk to your  friend1 if he was        
present4    #i4 ,if writing well shews  
the gentleman1 much more so does        
spelling well4  ,it is so essentially   
necessary for a gentleman1 or a man of  

letters1  that one false spelling may   
fix a ridicule on him for the remainder 
of  his life4 ,words in books are       
generally well spelled1 according to the
  orthography of the age2 reading1      
therefore1 with attention1 will teach   
every one to spell right4 ,it sometimes 
happens1 that words shall be  spelled   
differently by different authors2 but1  
if you spell them upon  the authority of
 one in estimation of the public1 you   
will escape  ridicule4 ,where there is  
but one way of spelling a word1 by your 
spelling it wrong1 you will be sure to  
be laughed at4 ,for a woman of a        
tolerable education would laugh at and  
despise her lover1 if he wrote to  her1 
and the words were ill-spelled4 ,be     
particularly attentive1 then1 to  your  
spelling4    #aj4 ,there is nothing that
 a man at his first appearance in life  
ought  more to dread than having any    
ridicule fixed on him4 ,in the          
estimation  even of the most rational   
men1 it will not only lessen him1 but   

ruin him  with all the rest4 ,many a man
 has been undone by a ridiculous        
nick-name4  ,the causes of nick-names   
among well-bred men1 are generally the  
little  defects in manner1 air1 or      
address4 ,to have the appellation of    
ill-bred1  aukward1 muttering1          
left-legged1 or any other tacked always 
to your  name1 would injure you more    
than you are aware of2 avoid then these 
little defects 7and they are easily     
avoided7 and you need never fear a      
nick-name4    #aa4 ,some young men are  
apt to think1 that they cannot be       
complete  gentlemen1 without becoming   
men of pleasure4 ,a rake is made up of  
the  meanest and most disgraceful vices4
 ,they all combine to degrade his       
character1 and ruin his health1 and     
fortune4 ,a man of pleasure will  refine
 upon the enjoyments of the age1 attend 
them with decency1 and  partake of them 
becomingly4    #ab4 ,indeed he is too   
often less scrupulous than he should be1
 and  frequently has cause to repent it4

 ,a man of pleasure1 at best1 is but a  
dissipated being1 and what the rational 
part of mankind most abhor2 ,i  mention 
it1 however1 lest1 in taking1 up the man
 of pleasure1 you should  fall into the 
rake2 for1 of two evils1 always chuse   
the least4 ,a  dissolute flagitious     
footman may make as good a rake as a man
 of the  first quality4 ,few man can be 
men of pleasure2 every man may be a     
rake4    #ac4 ,there is a certain       
dignity that should be preserved in all 
our  pleasures2 in love1 a man may lose 
his heart1 without losing his nose2  at 
table a man may have a distinguished    
palate1 without being a glutton2  he may
 love wine without being a drunkard2 he 
may game without being a  gambler1 and  
so on4    #ad4 ,every virtue has its    
kindred vice1 and every pleasure its    
neighbouring disgrace4 ,temperance and  
moderation mark the gentleman1 but      
excess the blackguard4 ,attend          
carefully1 then1 to the line that       
divides  them2 and remember1 stop rather

 a yard short1 than step an inch beyond 
it4 ,weigh the present enjoyment of your
 pleasures against the necessary        
consequences of them1 and ,i will leave 
you to your own determination4    #ae4  
,a gentleman has ever some regard also  
to the choice of his  amusements4 ,if at
 cards1 he will not be seen at cribbage1
 all-fours1 or  putt2 or1 in sports of  
exercise1 at skittles1 foot-ball1       
leap-frog1  cricket1 driving of coaches1
 c4 but will preserve a propriety in    
every  part of his conduct2 knowing1    
that any imitation of the manners of the
  mob1 will unavoidably stamp him with  
vulgarity4 ,there is another  amusement 
too1 which ,i cannot help calling       
illiberal1 that is1 playing  upon any   
musical instrument4    #af4 ,music is   
commonly reckoned one of the liberal    
arts1 and undoubtedly  is so2 but to be 
piping or fiddling at a concert1 is     
degrading to a man  of fashion4 ,if you 
love music1 hear it2 pay fiddlers to    
play to you1 but  never fiddle yourself4

 ,it makes a gentleman appear frivolous 
and  contemptible1 leads him frequently 
into bad company1 and wastes that  time 
which might otherwise be well employed4 
#ag4 ,secrecy is another characteristic 
of good-breeding4 ,be careful not  to   
tell in one company1 what you see or    
hear in another2 much less to  divert   
the present company at the expense of   
the last4 ,things apparently            
indifferent may1 when often repeated and
 told abroad1 have much more  serious   
consequences than imagined4 ,in         
conversation there is generally a  tacit
 reliance1 that what is said will not be
 repeated2 and a man1  though not       
enjoined to secrecy1 will be excluded   
company1 if found to be  a tattler2     
besides1 he will draw himself into a    
thousand scrapes1 and  every one will be
 afraid to speak before him4    #ah4    
,pulling out your watch in company      
unasked1 either at home or abroad1  is a
 mark of ill-breeding2 if at home1 it   
appears as if you were tired  of your   

company1 and wished them to be gone2 if 
abroad1 as if the hours  drag heavily1  
and you wished to be gone yourself4 ,if 
you want to know  the time1 withdraw2   
besides1 as the taking what is called a 
,french leave  was introduced1 that on  
one person's leaving the company the    
rest might  not be disturbed1 looking at
 your watch does what that piece of     
politeness was designed to prevent3 it  
is a kind of dictating to all  present1 
and telling them it is time1 or almost  
time1 to break up4    #ai4 ,among other 
things1 let me caution you against ever 
being in a  hurry2 a man of sense may be
 in haste1 but he is never in a hurry2  
convinced1 that hurry is the surest way 
to make him do what he  undertakes ill4 
,to be in a hurry1 is a proof that the  
business we embark  in is too great for 
us2 of course1 it is the mark of little 
minds1 that  are puzzled and perplexed  
when they should be cool and deliberate2
 they  wish to do every thing at once1  
and are thus able to do nothing4 ,be    

steady1 then1 in all your engagements2  
look round you before you begin2  and   
remember1 that you had better do half of
 them well1 and leave the  rest undone1 
than to do the whole indifferently4     
#bj4 ,from a kind of false modesty1 most
 young men are apt to consider          
familiarity as unbecoming4 ,forwardness 
,i allow is so2 but there is a  decent  
familiarity that is necessary in the    
course of life4 ,mere formal  visits1   
upon formal invitations1 are not the    
thing2 they create no  connection1 nor  
will they prove of service to you2 it is
 the careless  and easy ingress and     
egress1 at all hours1 that secures an   
acquaintance  to our interest1 and this 
is acquired by a respectful familiarity 
entered into1 without forfeiting your   
consequence4    #ba4 ,in acquiring new  
acquaintance1 be careful not to neglect 
your old1  for a slight of this kind is 
seldom forgiven4 ,if you cannot be with 
your  former acquaintance so often as   
you used to be1 while you had no others1

  take care not to give them cause to   
think you neglect them2 call upon  them 
frequently though you cannot stay long  
with them2 tell them you are  sorry to  
leave them so soon1 and nothing should  
take you away but  certain engagements  
which good manners obliged you to attend
 to2 for it  will be your interest to   
make all the friends you can1 and as few
  enemies as possible4    #bb4 ,by      
friends1 ,i would not be understood to  
mean confidential ones2 but  persons who
 speak of you respectfully1 and who1    
consistent with their  own interest1    
would wish to be of service to you1 and 
would rather do  you good than harm4    
,another thing ,i must recommend to you1
 as characteristic of a polite          
education1 and of having kept good      
company1 is a graceful manner of        
conferring favours4 ,the most obliging  
things may be done so aukwardly as  to  
offend1 while the most disagreeable     
things may be done so agreeable  as to  
please4    #bc4 ,a few more articles of 

general advice1 and ,i have done2 the   
first is  on the subject of vanity4 ,it 
is the common failing of youth1 and as  
such  ought to be carefully guarded     
against4 ,the vanity ,i mean1 is that   
which1  if given way to1 stamps a man a 
coxcomb1 a character he will find a     
difficulty to get rid of1 perhaps as    
long as he lives4 ,now this vanity      
shews itself in a variety of shapes2 one
 man shall pride himself in  taking the 
lead in all conversations1 and          
peremptorily deciding upon  every       
subject2 another1 desirous of appearing 
successful among the  women1 shall      
insinuate the encouragement he has met  
with1 the conquests  he makes1 and      
perhaps boasts of favours he never      
received2 if he speaks  the truth1 he is
 ungenerous2 if false1 he is a villain2 
but whether true  or false1 he defeats  
his own purposes1 overthrows the        
reputation he  wishes to erect1 and     
draws upon himself contempt in the room 
of respect4    #bd4 ,some men are vain  

enough to think they acquire consequence
 by  alliance1 or by an acquaintance    
with persons of distinguished character 
or abilities3 hence they are eternally  
taking of their grand-father1  ,lord    
such-a-one2 their kinsman1 ,sir ,william
 such-a-one2 or their  intimate friend1 
,dr4 such-a-one1 with whom1 perhaps1    
they are scarce  acquainted4 ,if they   
are ever found out 7and that they are   
sure to be one  time or other7 they     
become ridiculous and contemptible2 but 
even  admitting what they say to be     
true1 what then8 ,a man's intrinsic     
merit  does not arise from an ennobled  
alliance1 or a reputable acquaintance4  
#be4 ,a rich man never borrows4 ,when   
angling for praise1 modesty is the      
surest bait4 ,if we would wish to shine 
in any particular character1 we  must   
never affect that character4 ,an        
affectation of courage will make a  man 
pass for a bully2 an affectation of wit1
 for a coxcomb2 and an  affectation of  
sense1 for a fool4 ,not that ,i would   

recommend bashfulness  or timidity2 no3 
,i would have every one know his own    
value1 yet not  discover that he knows  
it1 but leave his merit to be found out 
by  others4    #bf4 ,another thing worth
 your attention is1 if in company with  
an  inferior1 not to let him feel his   
inferiority2 if he discovers it  himself
 without your endeavours1 the fault is  
not yours1 and he will not  blame you2  
but if you take pains to mortify him1 or
 to make him feel  himself inferior to  
you in abilities1 fortune1 or rank1 it  
is an insult  that will not readily be  
forgiven4 ,in point of abilities1 it    
would be  unjust1 as they are out of his
 power2 in point of rank or fortune1 it 
is  ill-natured and ill-bred4    #bg4   
,this rule is never more necessary than 
at table1 where there cannot  be a      
greater insult than to help an inferior 
to a part he dislikes1 or a  part that  
may be worse than ordinary1 and to take 
the best to yourself4  ,if you at any   
time invite an inferior to your table1  

you put him during  the time he is there
 upon an equality with you1 and it is an
 act of the  highest rudeness to treat  
him in any respect slightingly4 ,i would
  rather double my attention to such a  
person1 and treat him with  additional  
respect1 lest he should even suppose    
himself neglected4    #bh4 ,there cannot
 be a greater savageness or cruelty1 or 
any thing more  degrading to a man of   
fashion1 than to put upon1 or take      
unbecoming  liberties with him1 whose   
modesty1 humility1 or respect1 will not 
suffer  him to retaliate4 ,true         
politeness consists in making every body
 happy  about you2 and as to mortify is 
to render unhappy1 it can be nothing but
  the worst of breeding4 ,make it a     
rule1 rather to flatter a person's      
vanity than otherwise2 make him1 if     
possible1 more in love with himself1    
and you will be certain to gain his     
esteem2 never tell him any thing he  may
 not like to hear1 nor say things that  
will put him out of  countenance1 but   

let it be your study on all occasions to
 please3 this  will be making friends   
instead of enemies2 and be a means of   
serving  yourself in the end4    #bi4   
,never be witty at the expense of any   
one present1 to gratify that  idle      
inclination which is too strong in most 
young men1 ,i mean1 laughing  at1 or    
ridiculing the weaknesses or infirmities
 of others1 by way of  diverting the    
company1 or displaying your own         
superiority4 ,most people  have their   
weaknesses1 their peculiar likings and  
aversions4 ,some cannot  bear the sight 
of a cat2 others the smell of cheese1   
and so on2 was you  to laugh at those   
men for their antipathies1 or by design 
or inattention  to bring them in their  
way1 you could not insult them more4    
#cj4 ,you may possibly thus gain the    
laugh on your side for the present1  but
 it will make the person1 perhaps1 at   
whose expense you are merry1  your enemy
 for ever after2 and even those who     
laugh with you1 will1 on a  little      

reflection1 fear you1 and probably      
despise you3 whereas to  procure what   
one likes1 and to remove what the other 
hates1 would  shew them that they were  
objects of your attention1 and possibly 
make  them more your friends than much  
greater services would have done4       
#ca4 ,if you have wit1 use it to please1
 but not to hurt4 ,you may shine1  but  
take care not to scorch4 ,in short1     
never seem to see the faults of  others4
 ,though among the mass of men there    
are1 doubtless1 numbers of  fools and   
knaves1 yet were we to tell every one of
 these we meet with  that we knew them  
to be so1 we should be in perpetual war4
 ,i would  detest the knave and pity the
 fool1 wherever ,i found him1 but ,i    
would  let neither of them know         
unnecessarily that ,i did so2 as ,i     
would not be  industrious to make myself
 enemies4 ,as one must please others    
then1 in  order to be pleased one's     
self1 consider what is agreeable to you 
must  be agreeable to them1 and conduct 

yourself accordingly4    #cb4           
,whispering in company is another act of
 ill-breeding2 it seems to  insinuate   
either that the persons whom we would   
not wish should hear1  are unworthy of  
our confidence1 or it may lead them to  
suppose we are  speaking improperly of  
them2 on both accounts1 therefore1      
abstain from  it4    ,so pulling out one
 letter after another1 and reading them 
in company1 or  cutting or pairing one's
 nails1 is unpolite and rude4 ,it seems 
to say1  we are weary of the            
conversation1 and are in want of some   
amusement to  pass away the time4       
#cc4 ,humming a tune to ourselves1      
drumming with our fingers on the table1 
making a noise with our feet1 and such  
like1 are all breaches of good  manners1
 and indications of our contempt for the
 persons present2  therefore they should
 hot be indulged4    ,walking fast in   
the streets is a mark of vulgarity1     
implying hurry of  business2 it may     
appear well in a mechanic or tradesman1 

but suits ill  with the character of a  
gentleman or a man of fashion4          
,staring any person you meet1 full in   
the face1 is an act also of             
ill-breeding2 it looks as if you saw    
something wonderful in his  appearance1 
and is1 therefore1 a tacit reprehension4
    #cd4 ,eating quick1 or very slow1 at
 meals1 is characteristic of the        
vulgar2 the first infers poverty1 that  
you have not had a good meal for  some  
time2 the last1 if abroad1 that you     
dislike your entertainment2 if  at home1
 that you are rude enough to set before 
your friends1 what you  cannot eat      
yourself4 ,so again1 eating your soups  
with your nose in the  plate1 is vulgar2
 it has the appearance of being used to 
hard work2 and  of course an unsteady   
hand4          ,dignity of ,manners4    
#a4 ,a certain dignity of manners is    
absolutely necessary1 to make even  the 
most-valuable character either respected
 or respectable in the  world4          
,horse-play1 romping1 frequent and loud 

fits of laughter1 jokes1 waggery1  and  
indiscriminate familiarity1 will sink   
both merit and knowledge into  a degree 
of contempt4 ,they compose at most a    
merry fellow1 and a merry  fellow was   
never yet a respectable man4            
,indiscriminate familiarity  either     
offends your superiors1 or else dubs you
 their dependent and led  captain4 ,it  
gives your inferiors just1 but          
troublesome and improper  claims to     
equality4 ,a joker is near a-kin to a   
buffoon2 and neither of  them is the    
least related to wit4    #b4 ,mimicry1  
the favorite amusement of little minds1 
has been ever the  contempt of great    
ones4 ,never give way to it yourself1   
nor ever  encourage it in others2 it is 
the most illiberal of all buffoonery2 it
  is an insult on the person you mimic2 
and insults1 ,i have often told  you1   
are seldom forgiven4    ,as to a mimic  
or a wag1 he is little else than a      
buffoon1 who will  distort his mouth and
 his eyes to make people laugh4 ,be     

assured1 no one  person ever demeaned   
himself to please the rest1 unless he   
wished to be  thought the ,merry-,andrew
 of the company1 and whether this       
character is  respectable1 ,i will leave
 you to judge4    #c4 ,if a man's       
company is coveted on any other account 
than his  knowledge1 his good sense1 or 
his manners1 he is seldom respected by  
those who invite him1 but made use of   
only to entertain--,let's have  such a  
one1 for he sings a good song1 for he is
 always joking or  laughing2 or1 let's  
send for such a one1 for he is a good   
bottle  companion2 these are degrading  
distinctions1 that preclude all respect 
and esteem4 ,whoever is had 7as the     
phrase is7 for the sake of any          
qualification1 singly1 is merely that   
thing he is had for1 is never           
considered in any other light1 and1 of  
course1 never properly respected1  let  
his intrinsic merits be what they will4 
#d4 ,you may possibly suppose this      
dignity of manners to border upon       

pride2 but it differs as much from      
pride1 as true courage from  blustering4
    ,to flatter a person right or wrong1
 is abject flattery1 and to consent     
readily to every thing proposed by a    
company1 be it silly or criminal1  is   
full as degrading1 as to dispute warmly 
upon every subject1 and to  contradict1 
upon all occasions4 ,to preserve        
dignity1 we should modestly  assert our 
own sentiments1 though we politely      
acquiesce in those of  others4    ,so   
again1 to support dignity of character1 
we should neither be  frivolously       
curious about trifles1 nor be           
laboriously intent on little  objects   
that deserve not a moment's attention2  
for this implies an  incapacity in      
matters of greater importance4    ,a    
great deal likewise depends upon our    
air1 address1 and expressions2 an       
aukward address and vulgar expressions1 
infer either a low turn of mind1  or a  
low education4    #e4 ,insolent         
contempt1 or low envy1 is incompatible  

also with dignity of  manners4 ,low-bred
 persons1 fortunately lifted in the     
world1 in fine  clothes and fine        
equipages1 will insolently look down on 
all those who  cannot afford to make as 
good an appearance2 and they openly envy
 those  who perhaps make a better4 ,they
 also dread the being slighted2 of      
course  are suspicious and captious2 are
 uneasy themselves1 and make every body 
else so about them4    #f4 ,a certain   
degree of outward seriousness in looks  
and actions1 gives  dignity1 while a    
constant smirk upon the face 7with that 
insipid silly  smile fools have when    
they would be civil7 and whiffling      
motions1 are  strong marks of futility4 
,but above all1 a dignity of character  
is to be acquired best by a  certain    
firmness in all our actions4 ,a mean1   
timid1 and passive  complaisance1 lets a
 man down more than he is aware of3 but 
still his  firmness or resolution should
 not extend to brutality1 but be        
accompanied with a peculiar and engaging

 softness1 or mildness4    #g4 ,if you  
discover any hastiness in your temper1  
and find it apt to  break out into rough
 and unguarded expressions1 watch it    
narrowly1 and  endeavour to curb it2 but
 let no complaisance1 no weak desire of 
pleasing1 no weedling1 urge you to do   
that which discretion forbids2 but      
persist and persevere in all that is    
right4 ,in your connections and         
friendships1 you will find this rule of 
use to you4 ,invite and preserve        
attachments by your firmness2 but labour
 to keep clear of enemies by a  mildness
 of behaviour4 ,disarm those enemies you
 may unfortunately have  7and few are   
without them7 by a gentleness of manner1
 but make them feel  the steadiness of  
your just resentment2 for there is a    
wide difference  between bearing malice 
and a determined self-defence2 the one  
is  imperious1 but the other is prudent 
and justifiable4    #h4 ,in directing   
your servants1 or any person you have a 
right to  command1 if you deliver your  

orders mildly and in that engaging      
manner  which every gentleman should    
study to do1 you will be cheerfully1    
and1  consequently1 well obeyed3 but if 
tyrannically1 you would be very         
unwillingly served1 if served at all4 ,a
 cool1 steady determination  should shew
 that you will be obeyed1 but a         
gentleness in the manner of  enforcing  
that obedience should make service a    
cheerful one4 ,thus will  you be loved  
without being despised1 and feared      
without being hated4    #i4 ,i hope ,i  
need not mention vices4 ,a man who has  
patiently been kicked  out of company1  
may have as good a pretence to courage1 
as one rendered  infamous by his vices1 
may to dignity of any kind2 however1 of 
such  consequence are appearances1 that 
an outward decency1 and an affected     
dignity of manners1 will even keep such 
a man the longer from sinking4  ,if1    
therefore1 you should unfortunately have
 no intrinsic merit of your  own1 keep  
up1 if possible1 the appearance of it2  

and the world will  possibly give you   
credit for the rest4 ,a versatility of  
manner is as  necessary in social life1 
as a versatility of parts in political4 
,this  is no way blameable1 if not used 
with an ill design4 ,we must1 like the  
cameleon1 then1 put on the hue of the   
persons we wish to be well with2  and it
 surely can never be blameable1 to      
endeavour to gain the good will  or     
affection of any one1 if1 when obtained1
 we do not mean to abuse it4            
,rules for ,conversation4      #a4 ,jack
 ,lizard was about fifteen when he was  
first entered in the  university1 and   
being a youth of a great deal of fire1  
and a more than  ordinary application to
 his studies2 it gave his conversation a
 very  particular turn4 ,he had too much
 spirit to hold his tongue in company2  
but at the same time so little          
acquaintance with the world1 that he did
  not know how to talk like other       
people4    #b4 ,after a year and a      
half's stay at the university1 he came  

down among  us to pass away a month or  
two in the country4 ,the first night    
after his  arrival1 as we were at       
supper1 we were all of us very much     
improved by  ,jack's table-talk4 ,he    
told us1 upon the appearance of a dish  
of  wild-fowl1 that according to the    
opinion of some natural philosophers1   
they might be lately come from the moon4
    #c4 ,upon which the ,sparkler       
bursting out into a laugh1 he insulted  
her  with several questions1 relating to
 the bigness and distance of the moon   
and stars2 and after every interrogatory
 would be winking upon me1 and  smiling 
at his sister's ignorance4 ,jack gained 
his point2 for the  mother was pleased1 
and all the servants stared at the      
learning of their  young master4 ,jack  
was so encouraged at this success1 that 
for the  first week he dealt wholly in  
paradoxes4 ,it was a common jest with   
him  to pinch one of his sister's       
lap-dogs1 and afterwards prove he could 
not  feel it4    #d4 ,when the girls    

were sorting a set of knots1 he would   
demonstrate to  them that all the       
ribbons were of the same colour2 or     
rather1 says  ,jack1 of no colour at    
all4 ,my ,lady ,lizard herself1 though  
she was  not a little pleased with her  
son's improvements1 was one day almost  
angry with him2 for1 having accidentally
 burnt her fingers as she was  lighting 
her lamp for her tea-pot1 in the midst  
of her anguish1 ,jack  laid hold of the 
opportunity to instruct her that there  
was no such  thing as heat in fire4 ,in 
short1 no day passed over our heads1 in 
which  ,jack did not imagine he made the
 whole family wiser than they were      
before4    #e4 ,that part of his        
conversation which gave me the most     
pain1 was what  passed among those      
country gentlemen that came to visit us4
 ,on such  occasions ,jack usually took 
upon him to be the mouth of the company2
  and thinking himself obliged to be    
very merry1 would entertain us with a   
great many odd sayings and absurdities  

of their college cook4 ,i found  this   
fellow had made a very strong impression
 upon ,jack's imagination1  which he    
never considered was not the case of the
 rest of the company1  till after many  
repeated trials he found that his       
stories seldom any  body laugh but      
himself4    #f4 ,i all this while looked
 upon ,jack as a young tree shooting out
  into blossoms before its time2 the    
redundancy of which1 though it was a    
little unseasonably1 seemed to foretell 
an uncommon fruitfulness4    ,in order  
to wear out the vein of pedantry1 which 
ran through his  conversation1 ,i took  
him out with me one evening1 and first  
of all  insinuated to him this rule1    
which ,i had myself learned from a very 
great author1 ,to think with the wise1  
but talk with the vulgar1  ,jack's1 good
 sense soon made him reflect that he had
 exposed himself  to the laughter of the
 ignorant by a contrary behaviour2 upon 
which he  told me1 that he would take   
care for the future to keep his notions 

to  himself1 and converse in the common 
received sentiments of mankind4    #g4  
,he at the same time desired me to give 
him any other rules of  conversation1   
which ,i thought might he for his       
improvement4 ,i told him ,i  would think
 of it2 and accordingly1 as ,i have a   
particular affection for  the young man1
 ,i gave him the next morning the       
following rules in  writing1 which may1 
perhaps1 have contributed to make him   
the agreeable  man he now is4    #h4    
,the faculty of interchanging our       
thoughts with one another1 or what  we  
express by the word conversation1 has   
always been represented by  moral       
writers1 as one of the noblest          
privileges of reason1 and which  more   
particularly sets mankind above the     
brute part of the creation4    ,though  
nothing so much gains upon the          
affections as this extempore  eloquence1
 which we have constantly occasion for1 
and are obliged to  practice every day1 
we very rarely meet with any who excel  

in it4    #i4 ,the conversation of most 
men is disagreeable1 not so much for    
want of  wit and learning1 as of        
good-breeding and discretion4    ,it is 
not in every man's power1 perhaps1 to   
have fine parts1 say witty  things1 or  
tell a story agreeably2 but every man   
may be polite if he  pleases1 at least  
to a certain degree4 ,politeness has    
infinitely more  power to make us       
esteemed1 and our company sought after1 
than the most  extraordinary parts or   
attainments we can be master of4 ,these 
seldom  fail to create envy1 and envy   
has always some ill will in it4    #aj4 
,if you resolve to please never speak to
 gratify any particular  vanity or      
passion of your own1 but always with a  
design either to divert  or inform the  
company4 ,a man who only aims at one of 
these1 is always  easy in his discourse4
 ,he is never out of humour at being    
interrupted1  because he considers that 
those who hear him are the best judges  
whether  what he was saying would either

 divert or inform him4    ,a modest     
person seldom fails to gain the good    
will of those he converses  with1       
because nobody envies a man who does not
 appear to be pleased with  himself4    
#aa4 ,we should talk extremely little of
 ourselves4 ,indeed what can we  say8   
,it would be as imprudent to discover   
faults1 as ridiculous to count  over our
 fancied virtues4 ,our private and      
domestic affairs are no less  improper  
to be introduced in conversation4 ,what 
does it concern the  company how many   
horses you keep in your stables8 or     
whether your  servant is most knave or  
fool8    #ab4 ,a man may equally affront
 the company he is in1 by engrossing all
  the talk1 or observing a contemptuous 
silence4    ,conform yourself to the    
taste1 character1 and present humours of
 the  persons you converse with2 not but
 a person must follow his talent in     
conversation4 ,do not force nature2 no  
one ever did it with success4    ,if you
 have not a talent for humour1 or       

raillery1 or story-telling1  never      
attempt them4    #ac4 ,contain yourself 
also within the bounds of what you know2
 and never  talk of things you are      
ignorant of1 unless it be with a view to
 inform  yourself4 ,a person cannot fail
 in the observance of this rule1 without
  making himself ridiculous2 and yet how
 often do we see it transgressed6       
,some1 who on war or politics could talk
 very well1 will be perpetually         
haranguing on works of genius and the   
belles letters2 others who are  capable 
of reasoning1 and would make a figure in
 grave discourse1 will  yet constantly  
aim at humour and pleasantry1 though    
with the worst grace  imaginable4 ,hence
 it is1 that we see a man of merit      
sometimes appear  like a coxcomb1 and   
hear a man of genius talk like a fool4  
#ad4 ,before you tell a story1 it may be
 generally not amiss to draw a  short   
character1 and give the company a true  
idea of the principal  persons concerned
 in it2 the beauty of most things       

consisting not so  much in their being  
said or done1 as in their being said or 
done by  such a particular person2 or on
 such a particular occasion4    #ae4    
,notwithstanding all the advantages of  
youth1 few young people please  in      
conversation3 the reason is1 that want  
of experience makes them  positive1 and 
what they say1 is rather with a design  
to please  themselves1 than any one     
else4    ,it is certain that age itself 
shall make many things pass well enough1
  which would have been laughed at in   
the mouth of one much younger4    #af4  
,nothing1 however1 is more insupportable
 to men of sense1 than an  empty formal 
man who speaks in proverbs1 and decides 
all controversies  with a short         
sentence4 ,this piece of stupidity is   
the more insufferable1  as it puts on   
the air of wisdom4    ,great talents for
 conversation requires to be accompanied
 with great  politeness4 ,he who        
eclipses others1 owes them great        
civilities2 and  whatever a mistaken    

vanity may tell us1 it is better to     
please in  conversation1 than to shine  
in it4    #ag4 ,a prudent man will avoid
 talking much of any particular science1
 for  which he is remarkably famous4    
,there is not1 methinks1 an handsomer   
thing said of ,mr4 ,cowley in his whole 
life1 than1 that none but his  intimate 
friends ever discovered he was a great  
poet by his discourse4  ,besides the    
decency of this rule1 it is certainly   
founded in good  policy4 ,a man who     
talks of any thing he is already famous 
for1 has  little to get1 but a great    
deal to lose4    #ah4 ,i might add1 that
 he who is sometimes silent on a        
subject1 where  everyone is satisfied he
 would speak well1 will often be thought
 no less  knowing in any other matters  
where1 perhaps1 he is wholly ignorant4  
,women are frightened at the name of    
argument1 and are sooner convinced  by  
an happy turn1 or1 witty expression1    
than by demonstration4    #ai4 ,whenever
 you commend1 add your reasons for so   

doing2 it is this  which distinguishes  
the approbation of a man of sense1 from 
the flattery  of sycophants1 and        
admiration of fools4    ,raillery is no 
longer agreeable1 than while the whole  
company is pleased  with it4 ,i would   
least of all be understood to except the
 person  raillied4    #bj4 ,though      
good-humour1 sense1 and discretion1 can 
seldom fail to make  a man agreeable1 it
 may be no ill policy sometimes to      
prepare yourself  in a particular manner
 for conversation1 by looking a little  
farther  than your neighbours into      
whatever is become a reigning subject4  
,if our  armies are besieging a place of
 importance abroad1 or our ,house of    
,commons debating a bill of consequence 
at home1 you can hardly fail of  being  
heard with pleasure1 if you have nicely 
informed yourself of the  strength1     
situation and history of the first1 or  
of the reasons for and  against the     
latter4    #ba4 ,it will have the same  
effect if1 when any single person begins

 to  make a noise in the world1 you can 
learn some of the smallest accidents  in
 his life or conversation1 which1 though
 they are too fine for the  observation 
of the vulgar1 give more satisfaction to
 men of sense1 7as  they are the best   
openings to a real character7 than the  
recital of his  most glaring actions4 ,i
 know but one ill consequence to be     
feared from  this method1 namely1 that  
coming full charged into company1 you   
should  resolve to unload1 whether an   
handsome opportunity offers itself or   
no4    #bb4 ,the liberal arts1 though   
they may possibly have less effect on   
our  external mein and behaviour1 make  
so deep an impression on the mind1 as   
is very apt to bend it wholly one way4  
,the mathematician will take little less
 than demonstration in the most  common 
discourse2 and the schoolman is as great
 a friend to definitions  and           
syllogisms4 ,the physician and divine   
are often heard to dictate in  private  
companies with the same authority which 

they exercise over their  patients and  
disciples2 while the lawyer is putting  
cases1 and raising  matter for          
disputation1 out of every thing that    
occurs4    #bc4 ,though the asking of   
questions may plead for itself the      
spacious  name of modesty1 and a desire 
of information1 it affords little       
pleasure  to the rest of the company1   
who are not troubled with the same      
doubts2  besides which1 he who asks a   
question would do well to consider that 
he  lies wholly at the mercy of another 
before he receives an answer4    #bd4   
,nothing is more silly than the pleasure
 some people take in what  they call    
speaking their minds4 ,a man of this    
make will say a rude thing  for the mere
 pleasure of saying1 it1 when an        
opposite behaviour1 full  as1 innocent1 
might have preserved his friend1 or made
 his fortune4    ,it is not impossible  
for a man to form to himself as         
exquisite a  pleasure in complying with 
the humour and sentiments of others1 as 

of  bringing others over to his own2    
since 'tis the certain sign of a        
superior genius1 that can take and      
become whatever dress it pleases4       
#be4 ,avoid disputes as much as         
possible1 in order to appear easy and   
well-bred1 in conversation4 ,you may    
assure yourself1 that it requires  more 
wit1 as well as more good-humour1 to    
improve than to contradict the  notions 
of another2 but if you are at any time  
obliged to enter on an  argument1 give  
your reasons with the inmost coolness   
and modesty1 two  things which scarce   
ever fail of making an impression on the
 hearers4  ,besides1 if you are neither 
dogmatical1 nor shew either by your     
actions  or words1 that you are full of 
yourself1 all will the more heartily    
rejoice at your victory2 nay1 should1   
you be pinched in your argument1  you   
may make your retreat with a very good  
graces you were never  positive1 and are
 now glad to be better informed4    #bf4
 ,this hath made some approve the       

socratical way of reasoning1 where1     
while you scarce affirm any thing1 you  
can hardly be caught in an  absurdity2  
and though possibly you are endeavouring
 to bring over  another to your opinion1
 which is firmly fixed1 you seem only to
 desire  information from him4    #bg4  
,in order to keep that temper1 which is 
so difficult and yet so  necessary to   
preserve1 you may please to consider1   
that nothing can be  more unjust or     
ridiculous1 than to be angry with       
another because he is  not of your      
opinion4 ,the interests1 education1 and 
means1 by which men  attain their       
knowledge1 are so very different1 that  
it is impossible  they should all think 
alike2 and he has at least us much      
reason to be  angry with you1 as you    
with him4    #bh4 ,sometimes to keep    
yourself cool1 it may be of service to  
ask  yourself fairly1 what might have   
been your opinion1 had you all the      
biases of education and interest your   
adversary may possibly have8 ,but  if   

you contend for the honour of victory   
alone1 you may lay down this as  an     
infallible maxim1 ,that you cannot make 
a more false step1 or give  your        
antagonists a greater advantage over    
you1 than by falling into a  passion4   
#bi4 ,when an argument is over1 how many
 weighty reasons does a man  recollect1 
which his heat and violence made him    
utterly forget8    ,it is yet more      
absurd to be angry with a man1 because  
he does not  apprehend the force of your
 reasons1 or give weak ones of his own4 
,if  you argue for reputation1 this     
makes your victory the easier2 he is    
certainly in all respects an object of  
your pity1 rather than anger2 and  if he
 cannot comprehend what you do1 you     
ought to thank nature for her  favours1 
who has given you so much the clearer   
understanding4    #cj4 ,you may please  
to add this consideration1 that among   
your equals no  one values your anger1  
which only preys upon its master2 and   
perhaps you  may find it not very       

consistent1 either with prudence or your
 ease1 to  punish yourself whenever you 
meet with a fool or a knave4    #ca4    
,lastly1 if you propose to yourself the 
true end of argument1 which  is         
information1 it may be a seasonable     
check to your passion2 for if you       
search purely after truth1 it will be   
almost indifferent to you where  you    
find it4 ,i cannot in this place omit an
 observation which ,i have  often made1 
namely1 that nothing procures a man more
 esteem and less  envy from the whole   
company1 than if he chooses the part of 
moderator1  without engaging directly on
 either side in a dispute4    #cb4 ,this
 gives him the character of impartial1  
furnishes him an  opportunity of sifting
 things to the bottom1 shewing his      
judgment1 and  of sometimes making      
handsome compliments to each of the     
contending  parties4    ,when you have  
gained a victory1 do not push it too    
far2 it is sufficient  to let the       
company and your adversary see it is in 

your power1 but that  you are too       
generous to make use of it4    #cc4 ,i  
shall only add1 that besides what ,i    
have here said1 there is  something     
which can never be learnt but in the    
company of the polite4  ,the virtues of 
men are catching as well as their vices1
 and your own  observations added to    
these1 will soon discover what it is    
that commands  attention in one man1 and
 makes you tired and displeased with the
  discourse of another4    ,further     
,remarks taken from ,lord               
,chesterfield's ,letters to his ,son4   
#cd4 ,having now given you full and     
sufficient instructions for making you  
well received in the best of companies2 
nothing remains but that ,i lay  before 
you some few rules for your conduct in  
such company4 ,many things  on this     
subject ,i have mentioned before2 but   
some few matters remain to  be mentioned
 now4    ,talk1 then1 frequently1 but   
not long together1 lest you tire the    
persons  you are speaking to2 for few   

persons talk so well upon a subject1 as 
to  keep up the attention of their      
hearers for any length of time4    #ce4 
,avoid telling stories in company1      
unless they are very short indeed1  and 
very applicable to the subject you are  
upon2 in this case relate  them in as   
few words as possible1 without the least
 digression1 and with  some apology2 as1
 that you hate the telling of stories1  
but the  shortness of it induced you4   
,and if your story has any wit in it1 be
  particularly careful not to laugh at  
it yourself4 ,nothing is more  tiresome 
and disagreeable than a long tedious    
narrative2 it betrays a  gossiping      
disposition1 and great want of          
imagination2 and nothing is  more       
ridiculous than to express an           
approbation of your own story by a      
laugh4    #cf4 ,in relating any thing1  
keep clear of repetitions1 or very      
hackneyed  expressions1 such as1 says   
he1 or says she4 ,some people will use  
these so often1 as to take off the      

hearers' attention from the story2 as   
in an organ out of tune1 one pipe shall 
perhaps sound the whole time we  are    
playing1 and confuse the piece so as not
 to be understood4    #cg4 ,digressions1
 likewise1 should be guarded against4 ,a
 story is always  more agreeable without
 them4 ,of this kind are1 the gentleman 
,i am  telling you of1 is the son of    
,sir ,thomas ----1 who lives in         
,harley-street2--you must know him--his 
brother had a horse that won the        
sweepstakes at the last ,newmarket      
meeting4--,zounds6 if you don't know    
him you know nothing4 ,or1 ,he was an   
upright tall old gentleman1 who  wore   
his own long hair2 don't you recollect  
him8--,all this is  unnecessary1 is very
 tiresome and provoking1 and would he an
 excuse for  a man's behaviour1 if he   
was to leave us in the midst of our     
narrative4    #ch4 ,some people have a  
trick of holding the persons they are   
speaking  to by the button1 or the hands
 in order to be heard out2 conscious1 ,i

  suppose1 that their tale is tiresome4 
,pray1 never do this2 if the person  you
 speak to is not as willing to hear your
 story as you are to tell it1  you had  
much better break off in the middle3 for
 if you tire them once1  they will be   
afraid to listen to you a second time4  
#ci4 ,others have a way of punching the 
person they are talking to in the  side1
 and at the end of every sentence1      
asking him some questions as the        
following--,wasn't ,i right in          
that8--,you know1 ,i told you           
so4--,what's your opinion8 and the like2
 or1 perhaps1 they will be  thrusting   
him1 or jogging him with their elbow4   
,for mercy's sake1 never  give way to   
this3 it will make your company dreaded4
    #dj4 ,long talkers are frequently   
apt to single out some unfortunate man  
present2 generally the most silent one  
of the company1 or probably him  who    
sits next them4 ,to this man1 in a kind 
of half whisper1 they will  run on for  
half an hour together4 ,nothing can be  

more ill-bred4 ,but1 if  one of these   
unmerciful talkers should attack you1 if
 you wish to oblige  him1 ,i would      
recommend the hearing with patience3    
seem to do so at  least1 for you could  
not hurt him more than to leave him in  
the middle  of his story1 or discover   
any impatience in the course of it4     
#da4 ,incessant talkers are very        
disagreeable companions4 ,nothing can be
  more rude than to engross the         
conversation to yourself1 or to take the
  words1 as it were1 out of another     
man's mouth4 ,every man in company has  
an equal claim to bear his part in the  
conversation1 and to deprive him  of it1
 is not only unjust1 but a tacit        
declaration that he cannot speak  so    
well upon the subject as yourself3 you  
will therefore take it up4  ,and1 what  
can be more rude8 ,i would as soon      
forgive a man that should  stop my mouth
 when ,i was gaping1 as take my words as
 it were1 me while ,i  was speaking     
them4 ,now1 if this be unpardonable4    

#db4 ,it cannot be less so to help out  
or forestall the slow speaker1 as  if   
you alone were rich in expressions1 and 
he were poor4 ,you may take it  for     
granted1 every one is vain enough to    
think he can talk well1 though  he may  
modestly deny it2 helping a person out1 
therefore1 in his  expressions1 is a    
correction that will stamp the corrector
 with  impudence and ill-manners4       
#dc4 ,those who contradict others upon  
all occasions1 and make every  assertion
 a matter of dispute1 betray by this    
behaviour an  unacquaintance with       
good-breeding4 ,he1 therefore1 who      
wishes to appear  amiable1 with those he
 converses with1 will be cautious of    
such  expressions as these1 ,that can't 
be true1 sir4 ,the affair is as ,i  say4
 ,that must be false1 sir4 ,if what you 
say is true1 c4 ,you may  as well tell a
 man he lies at once1 as thus indirectly
 impeach his  veracity4 ,it is equally  
as rude to be proving every trifling    
assertion  with a bet or a wager--,i'll 

bet you fifty of it1 and so on4 ,make it
  then a constant rule1 in matters of no
 great importance1 complaisantly  to    
submit your opinion to that of others2  
for a victory of this kind  often costs 
a man the loss of a friend4    #dd4     
,giving advice unasked1 is another piece
 of rudeness3 it is1 in  effect1        
declaring ourselves wiser than those to 
whom we give it2  reproaching them with 
ignorance and inexperience4 ,it is a    
freedom that  ought not to be taken with
 any common acquaintance1 and yet there 
are  these who will be offended1 if     
their advice is not taken4 ,such-a-one1 
say they1 is above being advised4 ,he   
scorns to listen to my advice2 as  if it
 were not a mark of greater arrogance to
 expect every one to submit  to their   
opinion1 than for a man sometimes to    
follow his own4    #de4 ,there is       
nothing so unpardonably rude1 as a      
seeming inattention to  the person who  
is speaking to you2 tho' you may meet   
with it in others1  by all means avoid  

it yourself4 ,some ill-bred people1     
while others are  speaking to them1     
will1 instead of looking at or attending
 to them1  perhaps fix their eyes on the
 ceiling1 or some picture in the room1  
look  out of the window1 play with a    
dog1 their watch-chain1 or their cane1  
or  probably pick their nails or their  
noses4 ,nothing betrays a more  trifling
 mind than this2 nor can any thing be a 
greater affront to the  person speaking2
 it being a tacit declaration1 that what
 he is saying is  not worth your        
attention4 ,consider with yourself how  
you would like such  treatment1 and1 ,i 
am persuaded1 you will never shew it to 
others4    #df4 ,surliness or moroseness
 is incompatible also with politeness4  
,such  as1 should any one say he was    
desired to present ,mr4 such-a-one's    
respects to you1 to reply1 ,what the    
devil have ,i to do with his            
respects8--,my ,lord enquired after you 
lately1 and asked how you did1  to      
answer1 if he wishes to know1 let him   

come and feel my pulse1 and  the like4  
,a good deal of this often is affected2 
but whether affected or  natural1 it is 
always offensive4 ,a man of this stamp  
will occasionally  be laughed at as an  
oddity2 but in the end will be despised4
    #dg4 ,i should suppose it           
unnecessary to advise you to adapt your 
conversation to the company you are in4 
,you would not surely start the  same   
subject1 and discourse of it in the same
 manner1 with the old and  with the     
young1 with an officer1 a clergyman1 a  
philosopher1 and a  woman8 no2 your good
 sense will undoubtedly teach you to be 
serious with  the serious1 gay with the 
gay1 and to trifle with the triflers4   
#dh4 ,there are certain expressions     
which are exceedingly rude1 and yet     
there are people of liberal education   
that sometimes use them2 as1 ,you  don't
 understand me1 sir4 ,is it not so8 ,you
 mistake4 ,you know  nothing of the     
matter1 c4 ,is it not better to say1 ,i 
believe ,i do not  express myself so as 

to be understood4 ,let us consider it   
again1  whether we take it right or not4
 ,it is much more polite and amiable to 
make some excuse for another1 even in   
cases where he might justly be  blamed1 
and to represent the mistake as common  
to both1 rather than  charge him with   
insensibility or incomprehension4       
#di4 ,if any one should have promised   
you any thing1 and not have  fulfilled  
that promise1 it would be very impolite 
to tell him he has  forfeited his word2 
or if the same person should have       
disappointed you1  upon any occasion1   
would it not be better to say1 ,you were
 probably so  much engaged1 that you    
forgot my affair2 or1 perhaps it slipped
 your  memory2 rather than1 you thought 
no more about it3 or1 you pay very      
little regard to your word4 ,for        
expressions of this kind leave a sting  
behind them--,they are a kind of        
provocation and affront1 and very often 
bring on lasting quarrels4    #ej4 ,be  
careful not to appear dark and          

mysterious1 lest you should be  thought 
suspicious2 than which1 there cannot be 
a more unamiable  character4 ,if you    
appear mysterious and reserved1 others  
will be truly  so with you3 and in this 
case1 there is an end to improvement1   
for you  will gather no information4 ,be
 reserved1 but never seem so4    #ea4   
,there is a fault extremely common with 
some people1 which ,i would  have you   
avoid4 ,when their opinion is asked upon
 any subject1 they will  give it with so
 apparent a diffidence and timidity1    
that one cannot1  without the utmost    
pain1 listen to them2 especially if they
 are known to  be men of universal      
knowledge4 ,your ,lordship will pardon  
me1 says one  of this stamp1 if ,i      
should not be able to speak to the case 
in hand1 so  well as it might be        
wished4--,i'll venture to speak of this 
matter to  the best of my poor abilities
 and dullness of apprehension4--,i fear 
,i  shall expose myself1 but in         
obedience to your ,lordship's           

commands1--and  while they are making   
these apologies1 they interrupt the     
business and  tire the company4    #eb4 
,always look people in the face when you
 speak to them1 otherwise you  will be  
thought conscious of some guilt2        
besides1 you lose the  opportunity of   
reading their countenances2 from which  
you will much  better learn the         
impression your discourse makes upon    
them1 than you can  possibly do from    
their words2 for words are at the will  
of every one1  but the countenance is   
frequently involuntary4    #ec4 ,if1 in 
speaking to a person1 you are not heard1
 and should be  desired to repeat what  
you said1 do not raise your voice in the
  repetition1 lest you should be thought
 angry1 on being obliged to repeat  what
 you had said before2 it was probably   
owing to the hearer's  inattention4     
#ed4 ,one word only1 as to swearing4    
,those who addict themselves to it1  and
 interlard their discourse with oaths1  
can never be considered as  gentlemen2  

they are generally people of low        
education1 and are unwelcome  in what is
 called good company4 ,it is a vice that
 has no temptation to  plead1 but is1 in
 every respect1 as vulgar as it is      
wicked4    #ee4 ,never accustom yourself
 to scandal1 nor listen to it2 for      
though it  may gratify the malevolence  
of some people1 nine times out of ten it
 is  attended with great disadvantages4 
,the very person you tell it to1 will1  
on reflection1 entertain a mean opinion 
of you1 and it will often bring  you    
into a very disagreeable situation4 ,and
 as there would be no  evil-speakers1 if
 there were no evil-hearers2 it is in   
scandal as in  robbery2 the receiver is 
as bad as the thief4 ,besides1 it will  
lead  people to shun your company1      
supposing that you would speak ill of   
them  to the next acquaintance you meet4
    #ef4 ,carefully avoid talking either
 of your own or other people's  domestic
 concerns4 ,by doing the one you will be
 thought vain2 by  entering into the    

other1 you will be considered as        
officious4 ,talking of  yourself is an  
impertinence to the company2 your       
affairs are nothing to  them2 besides1  
they cannot be kept too secret4 ,and as 
to the affairs of  others1 what are they
 to you8 ,in talking of matters that no 
way concern  you1 you are liable to     
commit blunders1 and1 should you touch  
any one in  a sore part1 you may        
possibly lose his esteem4 ,let your     
conversation1  then1 in mixed companies1
 always be general4    #eg4 ,jokes1     
bon-mots1 or the little pleasantries of 
one company1 will  not often bear to be 
told in another2 they are frequently    
local1 and  take their rise from certain
 circumstances2 a second company may not
 be  acquainted with these              
circumstances1 and of course your story 
may not be  understood1 or want         
explaining2 and if1 after you have      
prefaced it with1  ,i will tell you a   
good thing1 the sting should not be     
immediately  perceived1 you will appear 

exceedingly ridiculous1 and wish you had
 not  told it4 ,never1 then1 repeat in  
one place what you hear in another4     
#eh4 ,in most debates1 take up the      
favourable side of the question2        
however1 let me caution you against     
being clamorous2 that is1 never         
maintain an argument with heat though   
you know yourself right2 but offer  your
 sentiments modestly and coolly2 and1 if
 this does not prevail1 give  it up1 and
 try to change the subject1 by saying   
something to this  effect1 ,i find we   
shall hardly convince one another1      
neither is there  any necessity to      
attempt it2 so let us talk of something 
else4    #ei4 ,not that ,i would have   
you give up your opinion always2 no1    
assert  your own sentiments1 and oppose 
those of others when wrong1 but let your
  manner and voice be gentle and        
engaging1 and yet no ways affected4 ,if 
you contradict1 do it with1 ,i may be   
wrong1 but--,i won't be positive1  but  
,i really think--,i should rather       

suppose--,if ,i may be permitted to     
say--and close your dispute with good   
humour1 to shew you are neither         
displeased yourself1 nor meant to       
displease the person you dispute with4  
#fj4 ,acquaint yourself with the        
character and situation of the company  
you go into1 before you give a loose to 
your tongue2 for should you  enlarge on 
some virtue1 which anyone present may   
notoriously want3 or  should you condemn
 some vices which any of the company may
 be  particularly addicted to1 they will
 he apt to think your reflections       
pointed and personal1 and you will be   
sure to give offence4 ,this             
consideration will naturally lead you1  
not to suppose things said in  general  
to be levelled at you4    #fa4 ,low-bred
 people1 when they happen occasionally  
to be in good  company1 imagine         
themselves to be the subject of every   
separate  conversation4 ,if any part of 
the company whispers1 it is about them2 
if  they laugh1 it is at them2 and if   

any thing is said1 which they do not    
comprehend1 they immediately suppose it 
is meant of them4--,this mistake  is    
admirably ridiculed in one of our       
celebrated comedies1 ,i am sure1  says  
,scrub1 they were talking of me1 for    
they laughed consumedly4    #fb4 ,now1 a
 well-bred person never thinks himself  
disesteemed by the  company1 or laughed 
at1 unless their reflections are so     
gross1 that he  cannot be supposed to   
mistake them1 and his honour obliges him
 to resent  it in a proper manner2      
however1 be assured1 gentlemen never    
laugh at or  ridicule one another1      
unless they are in joke1 or on a footing
 of the  greatest intimacy4 ,if such a  
thing should happen once in an age1 from
  some pert coxcomb1 or some flippant   
woman1 it is better not to seem to  know
 it1 than to make the least reply4      
#fc4 ,it is a piece of politeness not to
 interrupt a person in a story1  whether
 you have heard it before or not4 ,nay1 
if a well-bred man is  asked whether he 

has heard it1 he will answer no1 and let
 the person go  on1 though he knows it  
already4 ,some are fond of telling a    
story1  because they think they tell it 
well2 others pride themselves in being  
the first teller of it1 and others are  
pleased at being thought  entrusted with
 it4 ,now1 all these persons you would  
disappoint by  answering yes2 and1 as ,i
 have told you before1 as the greatest  
proof of  politeness is to make every   
body happy about you1 ,i would never    
deprive  a person of any secret         
satisfaction of this sort1 when ,i could
 gratify  by a minute's attention4      
#fd4 ,be not ashamed of asking          
questions1 if such questions lead to    
information3 always accompany them with 
some excuse1 and you will never  be     
reckoned impertinent4 ,but1 abrupt      
questions1 without some apology1 by  all
 means avoid1 as they imply design4     
,there is a way of fishing for  facts1  
which1 if done judiciously1 will answer 
every purpose1 such as  taking things   

you wish to know for granted3 this will1
 perhaps1 lead  some officious person to
 set you right4 ,so again1 by saying1   
you have  heard so and so1 and sometimes
 seeming to know more than you do1 you  
will often get an information1 which you
 would lose by direct questions1  as    
these would put people upon their guard1
 and frequently defeat the  very end you
 aim at4    #fe4 ,make it a rule never  
to reflect on any body of people1 for by
 this  means you will create a number of
 enemies4 ,there are good and bad of all
  professions1 lawyers1 soldiers1       
parsons or citizens4 ,they are all men1 
subject to the same passions1 differing 
only in their manner according  to the  
way they have been bred up in4 ,for this
 reason1 it is unjust1 as  well as      
indiscreet1 to attack them as a corps   
collectively4 ,many a  young man has    
thought himself extremely clever in     
abusing the clergy4  ,what are the      
clergy more than other men8 ,can you    
suppose a black gown  can make any      

alteration in his nature8 ,fie1 fie1    
think seriously1 and ,i  am convinced   
you will never do it4    #ff4 ,but above
 all1 let no example1 no fashion1 no    
witticism1 no foolish  desire of rising 
above what knaves call prejudices1 tempt
 you to excuse1  extenuate or ridicule  
the least breach of morality1 but upon  
every  occasion shew the greatest       
abhorrence of such proceedings1 and hold
  virtue and religion in the highest    
veneration4    ,it is a great piece of  
ill-manners to interrupt any one while  
speaking1  by speaking yourself1 or     
calling off the attention of the company
 to any  foreign matter4 ,but this every
 child knows4    #fg4 ,the last thing ,i
 shall mention1 is that of concealing   
your learning1  except on particular    
occasions4 ,reserve this for learned    
men1 and let  them rather extort it from
 you1 than you be too willing to display
 it4  ,hence you will be thought modest1
 and to have more knowledge than you    
really have4 ,never seem more wise or   

learned than the company you are  in4   
,he who affects to shew his learning1   
will be frequently questioned2  and if  
found superficial1 will be sneered at2  
if otherwise1 he will be  deemed a      
pedant4 ,real merit will always shew    
itself1 and nothing can  lessen it in   
the opinion of the world1 but a man's   
exhibiting it  himself4    ,for ,god's  
sake1 revolve all these things seriously
 in your mind1 before  you go abroad    
into life4 ,recollect the observations  
you have yourself  occasionally made    
upon men and things2 compare them with  
my  instructions1 and act wisely and    
consequentially1 as they shall teach    
you4          ,entrance upon the ,world4
      #a4 ,curino was a young man       
brought up to a reputable trade2 the    
term of  his apprenticeship was almost  
expired1 and he was contriving how he   
might venture into the world with       
safety1 and pursue business with        
innocence and success4    #b4 ,among his
 near kindred1 ,serenus was one1 a      

gentleman of considerable  character in 
the sacred profession2 and after he had 
consulted with his  father1 who was a   
merchant of great esteem and experience1
 he also  thought fit to seek a word of 
advice from the divine4    #c4 ,serenus 
had such a respect for his young        
kinsman1 that he set his  thought at    
work on this subject1 and with some     
tender expressions1 which  melted the   
youth into tears1 he put into his hand a
 paper of his best  counsels4 ,curino   
entered upon business1 pursued his      
employment with  uncommon advantage1    
and1 under the blessing of ,heaven1     
advanced himself  to a considerable     
estate4    #d4 ,he lived with honour in 
the world1 and gave a lustre to the     
religion  which he professed2 and after 
a long life of piety and usefulness1 he 
died with a sacred composure of soul1   
under the influences of the  ,christian 
hope4    #e4 ,some of his neighbours    
wondered at his felicity in this world1 
joined  with so much innocence1 and such

 severe virtue2 but after his death this
  paper was found in his closet1 which  
was drawn up by his kinsman in holy     
orders1 and was supposed to have a large
 share in procuring his  happiness4     
,advice to a young ,man4      #a4 ,i    
presume you desire to be happy here and 
hereafter2 you know there  are a        
thousand difficulties which attend this 
pursuit2 some of them  perhaps you      
foresee1 but there are multitudes which 
you could never  think of4 ,never trust 
therefore to your own understanding in  
the things  of this world1 where you can
 have the advice of a wise and faithful 
friend2 nor dare venture the more       
important concerns of your soul1 and    
your eternal interests in the world to  
come1 upon the mere light of  nature1   
and the dictates of your own reason2    
since the word of ,god1 and  the advice 
of ,heaven1 lies in your hands4 ,vain   
and thoughtless indeed  are those       
children of pride1 who chuse to turn    
heathens in ,america2 who  live upon the

 mere religion of nature and their own  
stock1 when they  have been trained up  
among all these superior advantages of  
,christianity1 and the blessings of     
divine revelation and grace6    #b4     
,whatsoever your circumstances may be in
 this world1 still value your  bible as 
your best treasure2 and whatsoever be   
your employment here1  still look upon  
religion as your best business4 ,your   
bible contains  eternal life in it1 and 
all the riches of the upper world2 and  
religion  is the only way to become the 
possessor of them4    #c4 ,to direct    
your carriage towards ,god1 converse    
particularly with the  book of ,psalms2 
,david was a man of sincere and eminent 
devotion4 ,to  behave aright among men1 
acquaint yourself with the whole book of
  ,proverbs3 ,solomon was a man of large
 experience and wisdom4 ,and to  perfect
 your directions in both these1 read the
 ,gospels and ,epistles2  you will find 
the best of rules and the best of       
examples there1 and  those more         

immediately suited to the ,christian    
life4    #d4 ,as a man1 maintain strict 
temperance and sobriety1 by a wise      
government of your appetites and        
passions2 as a neighbour1 influence and 
engage all around you to be your        
friends1 by a temper and carriage made  
up of prudence and goodness2 and let the
 poor have a certain share in  all your 
yearly profits2 as a trader1 keep that  
golden sentence of our  ,saviour's ever 
before you4 ,whatsoever you would that  
men should do unto  you1 do you also    
unto them4    #e4 ,while you make the   
precepts of scripture the constant rule 
of your  duty1 you may with courage rest
 upon the promises of scripture as the  
springs of your encouragement2 all      
divine assistances and divine           
recompenses are contained in them4 ,the 
spirit of light and grace is  promised  
to assist them that ask it4 ,heaven and 
glory are promised to  reward the       
faithful and the obedient4    #f4 ,in   
every affair of life1 begin with ,god2  

consult him in every thing  that        
concerns you2 view him as the author of 
all your blessings1 and all  your hopes1
 as your best friend1 and your eternal  
portion4 ,meditate on  him in this view1
 with a continual renewal of your trust 
in him1 and a  daily surrender of       
yourself to him1 till you feel that you 
love him most  entirely1 that you serve 
him with sincere delight1 and that you  
cannot  live a day without ,god in the  
world4    #g4 ,you know yourself to be a
 man1 an indigent creature and a sinner1
 and  you profess to be a ,christian1 a 
disciple of the blessed ,jesus1 but     
never think you know ,christ or yourself
 as you ought till you find a  daily    
need of him for righteousness and       
strength1 for pardon and                
sanctification2 and let him be your     
constant introducer to the great  ,god1 
though he sits upon a throne of grace4  
,remember his own words1  ,john xiv #f4 
,no man cometh to the father but by me4 
#h4 ,make prayer a pleasure1 and not a  

task1 and then you will not forget  nor 
omit it4 ,if ever you have lived in a   
praying family1 never let it be  your   
fault if you do not live in one always4 
,believe that day1 that  hour1 or those 
minutes to be wasted and lost1 which any
 worldly  pretences would tempt you to  
save out of the public worship of the   
church1 the certain and constant duties 
of the closet1 or any necessary         
services for ,god and godliness2 beware 
lest a blast attend it1 and not a       
blessing4 ,if ,god had not reserved one 
day in seven to himself1 ,i fear        
religion would have been lost out of the
 world2 and every day of the  week is   
exposed to a curse which has no morning 
religion4    #i4 ,see that you watch and
 labour1 as well as pray2 diligence and 
dependence must he united in the        
practice of every ,christian4 ,it is the
  same wise man acquaints us1 that the  
hand of the diligent1 and the  blessing 
of the ,lord1 join together to make us  
rich1 ,prov4 x4 #d4 #bb4  ,rich in the  

treasures of body or mind1 of time or   
eternity4    ,it is your duty indeed1   
under a sense of your own weakness1 to  
pray  daily against sin2 but if you     
would effectually avoid it1 you must    
also  avoid temptation1 and every       
dangerous opportunity4 ,set a double    
guard  wheresoever you feel or suspect  
an enemy at hand4 ,the world without1   
and  the heart within1 have so much     
flattery and deceit in them1 that we    
must  keep a sharp eye upon both1 lest  
we are trapt into mischief between      
them4    #aj4 ,honour1 profit1 and      
pleasure1 have been sometimes called the
 world's  ,trinity2 they are its three  
chief idols2 each of them is sufficient 
to  draw a soul off from ,god1 and ruin 
it for ever4 ,beware of them1           
therefore1 and of all their subtle      
insinuations1 if you would be  innocent 
or happy4    ,remember that the honour  
which comes from ,god1 the approbation  
of  ,heaven1 and your own conscience1   
are infinitely more valuable than all   

the esteem or applause of men4 ,dare not
 venture one step out of the road  of   
,heaven1 for fear of being laughed at   
for walking strictly in it1 it  is a    
poor religion that cannot stand against 
a jest4    ,sell not your hopes of      
heavenly treasures1 nor any thing that  
belongs to  your eternal interest1 for  
any of the advantages of the present    
life2  ,what shall it profit a man to   
gain the world and lose his own soul4   
,remember also the words of the wise    
man1 ,he that loveth pleasure shall  be 
a poor man2 he that indulges himself in 
wine and oil1 that is1 in  drinking1 in 
feasting1 and in sensual gratifications1
 shall not be  rich4 ,it is one of ,st4 
,paul's characters of a most degenerate 
age1 when  men become lovers of pleasure
 more than lovers of ,god4 ,and that    
fleshly lusts war against the soul1 is  
,st4 ,peter's caveat to the  ,christians
 of his time4    #aa4 ,preserve your    
conscience always soft and sensible2 if 
but one sin  force its way into that    

tender part of the soul1 and dwell easy 
there1  the road is paved for a         
thousand2 iniquities4    ,and take heed 
that under any scruple1 doubt1 or       
temptation whatsoever1  you never let   
any reasonings satisfy your conscience1 
which will not be  a sufficient answer  
of apology to the great ,judge at the   
last day4    #ab4 ,keep this thought    
ever in your mind4 ,it is a world of    
vanity and  vexation in which you live2 
the flatteries and promises of it are   
vain  and deceitful2 prepare1 therefore1
 to meet disappointments4 ,many of its  
occurrences are teazing and vexatious4  
,in every ruffling storm without1       
possess your spirit in patience1 and let
 all be calm and serene within4  ,clouds
 and tempests are only found in the     
lower skies2 the heavens above  are ever
 bright and clear4 ,let your heart and  
hope dwell much in these  serene        
regions2 live as a stranger here on     
earth1 but as a citizen of  heaven1 if  
you will maintain a soul at ease4       

#ac4 ,since in many things we offend    
all1 and there is not a day passes      
which is perfectly free from sin1 let   
repentance towards ,god1 and faith  in  
our ,lord ,jesus ,christ1 be your daily 
work4 ,a frequent renewal of  these     
exercises which make a ,christian at    
first1 will be a constant  evidence of  
your sincere ,christianity1 and give you
 peace in life1 and  hope in death4     
#ad4 ,ever carry about with you such a  
sense of the uncertainty of every  thing
 in this life1 and of life itself1 as to
 put nothing off till  to-morrow1 which 
you can conveniently do to-day4         
,dilatory persons are  frequently       
exposed to surprise and hurry in every  
thing that belongs to  them2 the time is
 come1 and they are unprepared4 ,let the
 concerns of  your soul and your shop1  
your trade and your religion1 lie always
 in  such order1 as far as possible1    
that death1 at a short warning1 may be  
no occasion of a disquieting tumult in  
your spirit1 and that you may  escape   

the anguish of a bitter repentance in a 
dying hour4 ,farewel4    ,phronimus1 a  
considerable ,east-land merchant1       
happened upon a copy of  these advices1 
about the time when he permitted his son
 to commence a  partnership with him in 
his trade2 he transcribed them with his 
own  hand1 and made a present of them to
 the youth1 together with the  articles 
of partnership4 ,here1 young man1 said  
he1 is a paper of more  worth than these
 articles4 ,read it over once a month1  
till it is wrought  in your very soul   
and temper4 ,walk by these rules1 and ,i
 can trust my  estate in your hands4    
,copy out these counsels in your life1  
and you will  make me and yourself easy 
and happy4          ,the ,vision of     
,mirza1 exhibiting a ,picture of ,human 
,life4      #a4 ,on the fifth day of the
 moon1 which1 according to the custom of
 my  forefathers1 ,i always keep holy1  
after having washed myself1 and  offered
 up my morning devotions1 ,i ascended   
the high hills of ,bagdat1 in  order to 

pass the rest of the day in meditation  
and prayer4 ,as ,i was  here airing     
myself on the tops of the mountains1 ,i 
fell into a profound  contemplation on  
the vanity of human life2 and passing   
from one thought  to another1 surely1   
said ,i1 man is but a shadow1 and life a
 dream4    #b4 ,whilst ,i was thus      
musing1 ,i cast my eyes towards the     
summit of a rock  that was not far from 
me1 where ,i discovered one in the habit
 of a  shepherd1 with a little musical  
instrument in his hand4 ,as ,i looked   
upon  him1 he applied it to his lips1   
and began to play upon it4 ,the sound of
  it was exceeding sweet1 and wrought   
into a variety of tunes that were       
inexpressibly melodious1 and altogether 
different from any thing ,i had  ever   
heard3 they put me in mind of those     
heavenly airs that are played  to the   
departed souls of good men upon their   
first arrival in ,paradise1  to wear out
 the impressions of the last agonies1   
and qualify them for  the pleasures of  

that happy place4 ,my heart melted away 
in secret  raptures4    #c4 ,i had often
 been told that the rock before me was  
the haunt of a  genius2 and that several
 had been entertained with that music1  
who had  passed by it1 but never heard  
that the musician had before made       
himself  visible4 ,when he had raised my
 thoughts by those transporting airs    
which  he played1 to taste the pleasures
 of his conversation1 as ,i looked upon 
him like one astonished1 he beckoned to 
me1 and1 by the waving of his  hand1    
directed me to approach the place where 
he sat4    #d4 ,i drew near with that   
reverence which is due to a superior    
nature2  and as my heart was entirely   
subdued by the captivating strains ,i   
had  heard1 ,i fell down at his feet and
 wept4 ,the genius smiled on me with a  
look of compassion and affability1 that 
familiarized him to my  imagination1 and
 at once dispelled all the fears and    
apprehensions with  which ,i approached 
him4 ,he lifted me from the ground1 and 

taking me by  the hand1 ,mirza1 said he1
 ,i have heard thee in thy soliloquies3 
follow  me4    #e4 ,he then led me to   
the highest pinnacle of the rock1 and   
placing me on  the top of it1 cast thy  
eyes eastward1 said he1 and tell me what
 thou  seest4 ,i see1 said ,i1 a huge   
valley1 and a prodigious tide of water  
rolling through it4    ,the valley that 
then seest1 said1 he1 is the vale of    
misery and the  tide of water that thou 
seest1 is part of the great tide of     
eternity4    #f4 ,what is the reason1   
said ,i1 that the tide ,i see rises out 
of a thick  mist at one end1 and again  
loses itself in a thick mist at the     
other8  ,what thou seest1 said he1 is   
that portion of eternity which is called
  time1 measured out by the sun1 and    
reaching from the beginning of the      
world to its consummation4 ,examine now1
 said he1 this sea that is  bounded with
 darkness at both ends1 and tell me what
 thou discoverest in  it4 ,i see a      
bridge1 said ,i2 standing in the midst  

of the tide4 ,the  bridge thou seest    
said he1 is human life2 consider it     
attentively4    #g4 ,upon a more        
leisurely survey of it1 ,i found that it
 consisted of  threescore and ten entire
 arches1 with several broken arches1    
which1  added to those that were entire1
 made up the number of about an hundred4
  ,as ,i was counting the arches1 the   
genius told me that this bridge         
consisted at the first of a thousand    
arches2 but that a great flood  swept   
away the rest1 and left the bridge in   
the ruinous condition ,i now  beheld it2
 but tell me further1 said he1 what thou
 discoverest on it4 ,i  see multitudes  
of people passing over it1 said ,i1 and 
a black cloud  hanging on each end of   
it4    #h4 ,as ,i looked more           
attentively1 ,i saw several of the      
passengers  dropping through the bridge1
 into the great1 tide that flowed       
underneath  it2 and upon further        
examination1 perceived there were       
innumerable  trap-doors that lay        

concealed in the bridge1 which the      
passengers no  sooner trod upon1 but    
they fell through them into the tide1   
and  immediately disappeared4 ,these    
hidden pitfalls were set very thick at  
the entrance of the bridge1 so that     
throngs of people no sooner broke       
through the cloud1 but many of them fell
 into them4 ,they grew thinner1  towards
 the middle1 but multiplied and lay     
closer together towards the  end of the 
arches that were entire4    #i4 ,there  
were indeed some persons1 but their     
number was very small1 that  continued a
 kind of hobbling march on the broken   
arches1 but fell  through one after     
another1 being quite tired and spent    
with so long a  walk4    #aj4 ,i passed 
some time in the contemplation of this  
wonderful structure2  and the great     
variety of objects which it presented4  
,my heart was  filled with a deep       
melancholy1 to see several dropping     
unexpectedly in  the midst of mirth and 
jollity1 and catching at every thing    

that stood  by them to save themselves4 
,some were looking up towards the       
heavens in  a thoughtful posture1 and in
 the midst of a speculation1 stumbled   
and  fell out of sight4 ,multitudes were
 very busy in the pursuit of bubbles1   
that glittered in their eyes and danced 
before them2 but often1 when  they      
thought themselves within the reach of  
them1 their footing failed1  and down   
they sunk4    #aa4 ,in this confusion of
 objects1 ,i observed some with         
scymitars in  their hands1 and others   
with urinals1 who ran to and fro upon   
the  bridge1 thrusting several persons  
on trap-doors1 which did not seem to    
lie in their way1 and which they might  
have escaped1 had they not been  thus   
forced upon them4    #ab4 ,the genius1  
seeing me indulge myself in this        
melancholy prospect1  told me ,i had    
dwelt long enough upon it3 take thine   
eyes off the bridge1  says he1 and tell 
me if thou seest any thing thou dost not
 comprehend4  ,upon looking up1 what    

mean1 said ,i1 those great flights of   
birds that  are perpetually hovering    
about the bridge1 and settling upon it  
from  time to time8 ,i see vultures1    
harpies1 ravens1 cormorants1 and1 among 
many other feathered creatures1 several 
little winged boys1 that perch  in great
 numbers upon the middle arches4 ,these1
 said the genius1 are  envy1 avarice1   
superstition1 despair1 love1 with the   
like cares and  passions that infest    
human life4    #ac4 ,i here fetched a   
deep sigh3 ,alas1 said ,i1 man was made 
in vain6 how  is he given away to misery
 and mortality6 tortured in life1 and   
swallowed up in death6 ,the genius1     
being moved with compassion towards  me1
 bid me quit so uncomfortable a         
prospect4 ,look no more1 said he1 on    
man in the first stage of his existence1
 in his setting out for  eternity2 but  
cast thine eye on that thick mist into  
which the tide  bears the several       
generations of mortals that fall into   
it4    #ad4 ,i directed my sight as ,i  

was ordered1 and 7whether or no the good
  genius strengthened it with any       
supernatural force1 or dissipated part  
of the mist that was before too thick   
for the eye to penetrate7 ,i saw  the   
valley opening2 at the farther end1 and 
spreading forth into an  immense ocean1 
that had a huge rock of adamant running 
through the  midst of it1 and dividing  
it into two equal parts4 ,the clouds    
still  rested on one half of it1        
insomuch that ,i could discover nothing 
in it2  but the other appeared to me a  
vast ocean1 planted with innumerable    
islands1 that were covered with fruits  
and flowers2 and interwoven with  a     
thousand little shining seas that ran   
among them4    #ae4 ,i could see persons
 dressed in glorious habits1 with       
garlands upon  their heads1 passing     
among the trees1 lying down by the sides
 of  fountains1 or resting on beds of   
flowers2 and could hear a confused      
harmony of singing birds1 falling       
waters1 human voices1 and musical       

instruments4 ,gladness grew in me at the
 discovery of so delightful a  scene4 ,i
 wished for the wings of an eagle1 that 
,i might fly away to  those happy seats2
 but the genius told me there was no    
passage to them1  except through the    
gates of death that ,i saw opening every
 moment upon  the bridge4    #af4 ,the  
islands1 said he1 that are so fresh and 
green before thee1 and  with which the  
whole face of the ocean appears spotted 
as far as thou  canst see1 are more in  
number than the sand on the sea-shore2  
there are  myriads of islands behind    
those which thou here discoverest1      
reaching  further than thine eye1 or    
even thine imagination can extend       
itself4  ,these are the mansions of good
 men after death1 who1 according to the 
degree and kinds of virtue in which they
 excelled1 are distributed among  these 
several islands1 which abound with      
pleasures of different kinds  and       
degrees1 suitable to the relishes and   
perfections of those who are  settled in

 them2 every island is a paradise1      
accommodated to its  respective         
inhabitants4    #ag4 ,are not these1 ,o 
,mirza1 habitations worth contending    
for8 ,does life  appear miserable1 that 
gives thee opportunities of earning such
 a  reward8 ,is death to be feared1 that
 will convey thee to so happy an        
existence8 ,think not man was made in   
vain1 who has such an eternity  reserved
 for him4 ,i gazed1 with inexpressible  
pleasure1 on these happy  islands4 ,at  
length1 said ,i1 shew me now1 ,i beseech
 thee1 the secrets  that lie hid under  
those dark clouds1 which cover the ocean
 on the other  side of the rock of      
adamant4    #ah4 ,the genius making me  
no answer1 ,i turned about to address   
myself to  him a second time1 but ,i    
found that he had left me2 ,i then      
turned again  to the vision which ,i had
 been so long contemplating3 but instead
 of the  rolling tide1 the arched       
bridge1 and the happy islands1 ,i saw   
nothing  but the long1 hollow valley of 

,bagdat1 with oxen1 sheep1 and camels   
grazing upon the sides of it4           
,riches not productive of ,happiness3   
,the ,story of ,ortogrul of ,basra4     
,,idler1 ,no4 #ii4      #a4 ,as         
,ortogrul of ,basra was one day         
wandering along the streets of  ,bagdat1
 musing on the varieties of merchandize 
which the shops altered  to his view1   
and observing the different occupations 
which busied the  multitude on every    
side1 he was awakened from the          
tranquillity of  meditation by a crowd  
that obstructed his passage4 ,he raised 
his eyes1  and saw the ,chief ,vizier1  
who1 having returned from the ,divan1   
was  entering his palace4    #b4        
,ortogrul mingled with the attendants1  
and being supposed to have some  petiton
 for the ,vizier1 was permitted to      
enter4 ,he surveyed the  spaciousness of
 the apartments1 admired the walls hung 
with golden  tapestry1 and the floors   
covered with silken carpets1 and        
despised the  simple neatness of his own

 little habitation4    #c4 ,surely1 said
 he to himself1 this palace is the seat 
of happiness1  where pleasure succeeds  
to pleasure1 and discontent and sorrow  
can have  no admission4 ,whatever nature
 has provided for the delight of sense1 
is  here spread forth to be enjoyed4    
,what can mortals hope or imagine1 which
  the master of this palace has not     
obtained8 ,the dishes of luxury cover   
his table1 the voice of harmony lulls   
him in his bowers2 he breathes the      
fragrance of the groves of ,java1 and   
sleeps upon the down of the cygnets  of 
,ganges4 ,he speaks1 and his mandate is 
obeyed2 he wishes1 and his wish  is     
gratified6 all whom he sees obey him1   
and all whom he hears flatter  him4     
#d4 ,how different1 ,ortogrul1 is thy   
condition1 who art doomed to the        
perpetual torments of unsatisfied       
desire1 and who hast no amusement in    
thy power that can withhold thee from   
thy own reflections6 ,they tell  thee   
that thou art wise1 but what does wisdom

 avail with poverty8 ,none  will flatter
 the poor1 and the wise have very little
 power of  flattering themselves4 ,that 
man is surely the most wretched of the  
sons  of wretchedness1 who lives with   
his own faults and follies always before
  him1 and who has none to reconcile him
 to himself by praise and  veneration4  
,i have long sought content1 and have   
not found it2 ,i will  from this moment 
endeavour to be rich4    #e4 ,full of   
his new resolution1 he shut himself in  
his chamber for six  months1 to         
deliberate how he should grow rich2 he  
sometimes proposed to  offer himself as 
a counsellor to one of the kings of     
,india1 and  sometimes resolved to dig  
for diamonds in the mines of ,golconda4 
,one  day1 after some hours passed in   
violent fluctuation of opinion1 sleep   
insensibly seized him in his chair2 he  
dreamed that he was ranging a  desert   
country in search of some one that might
 teach him to grow rich2  and as he     
stood on the top of a hill shaded with  

cypress1 in doubt  whither to direct his
 steps1 his father appeared on a sudden1
 standing  before him4    #f4 ,ortogrul1
 said the old man1 ,i know thy          
perplexity2 listen to thy  father2 turn 
thine eye on the opposite mountain4     
,ortogrul looked1 and  saw a torrent    
tumbling down the rocks1 roaring with   
the noise of  thunder1 and scattering1  
its foam on the impending woods4 ,now1  
said his  father1 behold the valley that
 lies between the hills4    #g4         
,ortogrul looked1 and espied a little   
well1 out of which issued a  small      
rivulet4 ,tell me now1 said his father1 
dost thou wish for sudden  affluence1   
that may pour upon thee like the        
mountain torrent1 or for a  slow and    
gradual increase1 resembling the rill   
gliding from the well8  ,let me be      
quickly rich1 said ,ortogrul2 let the   
golden stream be quick  and violent4    
#h4 ,look round thee1 said his father1  
once again4 ,ortogrul looked1 and       
perceived the channel of the torrent dry

 and dusty2 but following the  rivulet  
from the well1 he traced it to a wide   
lake1 which the supply1  slow and       
constant1 kept always full4 ,he waked1  
and determined to grow  rich by silent  
profit1 and persevering industry4    #i4
 ,having sold his patrimony1 he engaged 
in merchandise1 and in twenty  years    
purchased lands1 on which he raised a   
house equal in sumptuousness  to that of
 the ,vizier1 to which he invited all   
the ministers of  pleasure1 expecting to
 enjoy all the felicity which he had    
imagined  riches able to afford4        
,leisure soon made him weary of himself1
 and he  longed to be persuaded that he 
was great and happy4 ,he was courteous  
and  liberal2 he gave all that          
approached him hopes of pleasing him1   
and all  who should please him1 hopes of
 being rewarded4 ,every art of praise   
was  tried1 and every source of         
adulatory fiction was exhausted4    #aj1
 ,ortogrul heard his flatterers without 
delight1 because he found  himself      

unable to believe them4 ,his own heart  
told him its frailties4  ,his own       
understanding reproached him with his   
faults4 ,how long1 said he1  with a deep
 sigh1 have ,i been labouring in vain to
 amass wealth1 which  at last is        
useless8 ,let no man hereafter wish to  
be rich1 who is already  too wise to be 
flattered4          ,of the ,scriptures1
 as the ,rule of ,life4      #a4 ,as you
 advance in years and under standing1 ,i
 hope you1 will be able  to examine for 
yourself the evidence of the ,christian 
religion1 and that  you will be         
convinced1 on rational grounds1 of its  
divine authority4 ,at  present1 such    
enquiries would demand more study1 and  
greater powers of  reasoning1 than your 
age admits of4 ,it is your part1        
therefore1 till you  are capable of     
understanding the proofs1 to believe    
your parents and  teachers1 that the    
holy scriptures are writings inspired by
 ,god1  containing a true history of    
facts1 in which we are deeply           

concerned--a  true recital of the laws  
given by ,god to ,moses1 and of the     
precepts of  our blessed ,lord and      
,saviour1 delivered from his own mouth  
to his  disciples1 and repeated and     
enlarged upon in the edifying epistles  
of  his ,apostles2 who were men chosen  
from amongst those who had the          
advantage of conversing with our ,lord1 
to bear witness of his miracles  and    
resurrection--and who1 after his        
ascension1 were assisted and  inspired  
by the ,holy ,ghost4    #b4 ,this sacred
 volume must be the rule of your life4  
,in it you will find  all truths        
necessary to be believed2 and plain and 
easy directions for  the practice of    
every duty4 ,your bible1 then1 must be  
your chief study  and delight2 but1 as  
it contains many various kinds of       
writing--some  parts obscure and        
difficult of interpretation1 others     
plain and  intelligible to the meanest  
capacity--,i would chiefly recommend to 
your  frequent perusal1 such parts of   

the sacred writings as are most adapted 
to your understanding1 and most         
necessary for your instruction4    #c4  
,our ,saviour's precepts were spoken to 
the common people amongst the  ,jews2   
and were therefore given in a manner    
easy to be understood1 and  equally     
striking and instructive to the learned 
and unlearned2 for the  most ignorant   
may comprehend them1 whilst the wisest  
must be charmed and  awed by the        
beautiful and majestic simplicity with1 
which they are  expressed4 ,of the same 
kind are the ,ten ,commandments1        
delivered by ,god  to ,moses2 which1 as 
they were designed for universal laws1  
are worded in  the most concise and     
simple manner1 yet with a majesty which 
commands  our utmost reverence4    #d4  
,i think you will receive great         
pleasure1 as well as improvement1 from  
the historical books of the ,old        
,testament2 provided you read them as an
  history in a regular course1 and keep 
the thread of it in your mind as  you go

 on4 ,i know of none1 true or           
fictitious1 that is equally  wonderful1 
interesting1 or affecting2 or that is   
told in so short and  simple a manner as
 this1 which is of all histories the    
most1 authentic4    #e4 ,i shall give   
you some brief directions1 concerning   
the method and  course ,i wish you to   
pursue1 in reading the ,holy            
,scriptures4 ,may you be  enabled to    
make the best use of this most precious 
gift of ,god--this  sacred treasure of  
knowledge6--,may you read the bible1 not
 as a task1  nor as the dull employment 
of that day only in which you are       
forbidden  more lively                  
entertainments--but1 with a sincere and 
ardent desire of  instruction2 with that
 love and delight in ,god's word1 which 
the holy  ,psalmist so pathetically felt
 and described1 and which is the natural
  consequence of loving ,god and virtue4
    #f4 ,though ,i speak this of the    
bible in general1 ,i would not be       
understood to mean1 that every part of  

the volume is equally  interesting4 ,i  
have already said1 that it consists of  
various matter1  and various kinds of   
books1 which must be read with different
 views and  sentiments4    #g4 ,the     
having some general notion of what you  
are to expect from each  book1 may      
possibly help you to understand them4 ,i
 shall treat you as if  you were        
perfectly new to the whole2 for so ,i   
wish you to consider  yourself2 because 
the time and manner in which children   
usually read  the bible1 are very       
ill-calculated to make them really      
acquainted with  it2 and too many people
 who have read it thus1 without         
understanding it  in their youth1       
satisfy themselves that they know enough
 of it1 and  never afterwards study it  
with attention when they come to a      
mature age4    #h4 ,if the feelings of  
your heart1 whilst you read1 correspond 
with those  of mine whilst ,i write1 ,i 
shall not be without the advantage of   
your  partial affection1 to give weight 

to my advice2 for1 believe me1 my  heart
 and eyes overflow with tenderness1 when
 ,i tell you how warm and  earnest my   
prayers are for your happiness here and 
hereafter4      ,of ,genesis4    #i4 ,i 
now proceed to give you some short      
sketches of the matter contained  in the
 different books of the ,bible1 and of  
the course in which they  ought to be   
read4    #aj4 ,the first book1 ,genesis1
 contains the most grand1 and1 to us1   
the  most interesting events1 that ever 
happened in the universe3 ,the  creation
 of the world1 and of man2 the          
deplorable fall of man1 from his  first 
state of excellence and bliss1 to the   
distressed condition in  which we see   
all his descendants continue3 ,the      
sentence of death  pronounced on ,adam  
and on all his race2 with the reviving  
promise of  that deliverance1 which has 
since been wrought for us by our blessed
  ,saviour3 ,the account of the early   
state of the world2 of the universal    
deluge3 ,the division of mankind into   

different nations and languages3  ,the  
story of ,abraham1 the founder of the   
,jewish people1 whose unshaken  faith   
and obedience1 under the severest trial 
human nature could  sustain1 obtained   
such favour in the sight of ,god1 that  
he vouchsafed to  stile him his friend1 
and promised to make of his posterity a 
great  nation2 and that in his          
seed--that is1 in one of his            
descendants--all  the kingdoms of the   
earth should be blessed4 ,this1 you will
 easily see1  refers to the ,messiah1   
who was to be the blessing and          
deliverance of all  nations4    #aa4 ,it
 is amazing that the ,jews1 possessing  
this prophecy among many  others1 should
 have been so blinded by prejudice1 as  
to have expected  from1 this great      
personage1 only a temporal deliverance  
of their own  nation from the subjection
 to which they were reduced under the   
,romans3  ,it is equally amazing1 that  
some ,christians should1 even now1      
confine  the blessed effects of his     

appearance upon earth1 to this or that  
particular sect or profession1 when he  
is so clearly and emphatically          
described as the ,saviour of the whole  
world4    #ab4 ,the story of ,abraham's 
proceeding to sacrifice his only son1 at
 the  command of ,god1 is affecting in  
the highest degree1 and sets forth a    
pattern of unlimited resignation1 that  
every one ought to imitate in  those    
trials of obedience under temptation1 or
 of acquiescence under  afflicting      
dispensations1 which fall to their lot3 
of this we may be  assured1 that our    
trials will be always proportioned to   
the powers  afforded us4 ,if we have not
 ,abraham's strength of mind1 neither   
shall we  be called upon to lift the    
bloody knife against the bosom of an    
only  child2 but1 if the almighty arm   
should be lifted up against him1 we must
  be ready to resign him1 and all we    
hold dear1 to the divine will4    #ac4  
,this action of ,abraham has been       
censured by some who do not attend  to  

the distinction between obedience to a  
specified command1 and the  detestably  
cruel sacrifices of the heathens1 who   
sometimes voluntarily1  and without any 
divine injunctions1 offered up their own
 children1 under  the notion of         
appeasing the anger of their gods4 ,an  
absolute command  from ,god himself--as 
in the case of ,abraham--entirely alters
 the moral  nature of the action2 since 
he1 and he only1 has a perfect sight    
over  the lives of his creatures1 and   
may appoint whom he will1 either angel  
or man1 to be his instrument of         
destruction4    #ad4 ,that it was really
 the voice of ,god which pronounced the 
command1  and not a delusion1 might be  
made certain to ,abraham's mind1 by     
means we  do not comprehend1 but which  
we know to be within the power of him   
who  made our souls as well as bodies1  
and who can control and direct every    
faculty of the human mind3 and we may be
 assured1 that if he was pleased  to    
reveal himself so miraculously1 he would

 not leave a possibility of  doubting   
whether it was a real or an imaginary   
revelation3 thus the  sacrifice of      
,abraham appears to be clear of all     
superstition1 and1  remains the noblest 
instance of religious faith and         
submission1 that  was ever given by a   
mere man3 we cannot wonder that the     
blessings  bestowed on him for it1      
should have been extended to his        
posterity4    #ae4 ,this book proceeds  
with the history of ,isaac1 which       
becomes very  interesting to us1 from   
the touching scene ,i have              
mentioned--and1 still  more so1 if we   
consider him as the type of our         
,saviour3 it recounts his  marriage with
 ,rebecca--the birth and history of his 
two sons1  ,jacob1--the father of the   
twelve tribes1 and ,esau1 the father of 
the  ,edomites or ,idumeans--the        
exquisitively affecting story of ,joseph
 and  his brethren--and of his          
transplanting the ,israelites into      
,egypt1 who  there multiplied to a great

 nation4      ,of ,exodus4    #af4 ,in  
,exodus1 you read of a series of        
wonders1 wrought by the ,almighty  to   
rescue the oppressed ,israelites from   
the cruel tyranny of the  ,egyptians1   
who having first received them as       
guests1 by degrees reduced  them to a   
state of slavery4 ,by the most peculiar 
mercies and exertion in  their favour1  
,god prepared his chosen people to      
receive1 with reverent  and obedient    
hearts1 the solemn restitution of those 
primitive laws1  which probably he had  
revealed to ,adam and his immediate     
descendants2 or  which1 at least1 he had
 made known by the dictates of          
conscience1 but  which time1 and the    
degeneracy of mankind1 had much         
obscured4    #ag4 ,this important       
revelation was made to them in the      
wilderness of  ,sinai2 there1 assembled 
before the burning mountain1 surrounded 
with  blackness1 and darkness1 and      
tempest1 they heard the awful voice of  
,god pronounce the eternal law1         

impressing it on their hearts with      
circumstances of terror1 but without    
those encouragements and those          
excellent promises1 which were          
afterwards offered to mankind by ,jesus 
,christ4 ,thus were the great laws of   
morality restored to the ,jews1 and     
through them transmitted to other       
nations2 and by that means a great      
restraint was opposed to the torrent of 
vice and impiety which began to  prevail
 over the world4    #ah4 ,to these moral
 precepts2 which are of perpetual and   
universal  obligation1 were superadded1 
by the ministration of ,moses1 many     
peculiar  institutions1 wisely adapted  
to different ends--either to fix the    
memory of those past deliverances1 which
 were figurative of a future and  far   
greater salvation--to place inviolable  
barriers between the ,jews and  the     
idolatrous nations1 by whom they were   
surrounded--or1 to be the  civil law by 
which the community was to be governed4 
#ai4 ,to conduct this series of events1 

and to establish these laws with  his   
people1 ,god raised up that great       
prophet ,moses1 whose faith and  piety  
enabled him to undertake and execute the
 most arduous enterprizes1  and to      
pursue1 with unabated zeal1 the welfare 
of his countrymen2 even  in the hour of 
death1 this generous ardour still       
prevailed2 his last  moments were       
employed in fervent prayers for their   
prosperity1 and1 in  rapturous          
gratitude1 for the glimpse vouchsafed   
him of a ,saviour1 far  greater than    
himself1 whom ,god would one day raise  
up to his people4    #bj4 ,thus did     
,moses1 by the excellency of his faith1 
obtain a glorious  pre-eminence among   
the saints and prophets in heaven2 while
 on earth he  will be for ever revered  
as the first of those benefactors to    
mankind1  whose labours for the public  
good have endeared their memory to all  
ages4      ,of ,leviticus1 ,numbers1 and
 ,deuteronomy4    #ba4 ,the next book is
 ,leviticus1 which contains little      

besides the laws  for the peculiar      
ritual observance of the ,jews1 and     
therefore affords no  great instruction 
to us now2 you may pass it over         
entirely2 and for the  same reason you  
may omit the first eight chapters of    
,numbers4 ,the rest  of ,numbers is     
chiefly a continuation of the history1  
with some ritual  laws4    #bb4 ,in     
,deuteronomy1 ,moses makes a            
recapitulation of the foregoing         
history1 with zealous exhortations to   
the people1 faithfully to worship  and  
obey that ,god who had worked such      
amazing wonders for them3 he  promises  
them the noblest temporal blessings1 if 
they prove obedient1  and adds the most 
awful and striking denunciations against
 them1 if they  rebel1 or forsake the   
true ,god4    #bc4 ,i have before       
observed1 that the sanctions of the     
,mosaic law1 were  temporal rewards and 
punishments2 those of the ,new          
,testament are  eternal4 ,these last1 as
 they are so infinitely more forcible   

than the  first1 were reserved for the  
last1 best gift to mankind--and were    
revealed by the ,messiah1 in the fullest
 and clearest manner4 ,moses1 in  this  
book1 directs the method in which the   
,israelites were to deal with  the seven
 nations1 whom they were appointed to   
punish for their  profligacy and        
idolatry2 and whose land they were to   
possess1 when they  had driven out the  
old inhabitants4 ,he gives them         
excellent laws1 civil  as well as       
religious1 which were after the standing
 municipal laws of  that people4 ,this  
book concludes with ,moses' song and    
death4      ,of ,joshua4    #bd4 ,the   
book of ,joshua contains the conquests  
of the ,israelites over the  seven      
nations1 and their establishment in the 
promised land4 ,their  treatment of     
these conquered nations must appear to  
you very cruel and  unjust1 if you      
consider it as their own act1           
unauthorised by a positive  command2 but
 they had the most absolute injunctions 

not to spare these  corrupt people--to  
make no covenant with them1 nor shew    
mercy to them1  but utterly to destroy  
them3--and the reason is given1 lest    
they  should turn away the ,israelites  
from following the ,lord1 that they     
might  serve other gods4 ,the children  
of ,israel are to be considered as      
instruments in the hand of the ,lord1 to
 punish those whose idolatry and        
wickedness had deservedly brought       
destruction on them3 this example1      
therefore1 cannot be pleaded in behalf  
of cruelty1 or bring any  imputation on 
the character of the ,jews4    #be4     
,with regard to other cities1 which did 
not belong to these seven  nations1 they
 were directed to deal with them1       
according to the common  law of arms at 
that time4 ,if the city submitted1 it   
became tributary1  and the people were  
spared2 if it resisted1 the men were to 
be slain1  but the women and children   
saved4    #bf4 ,yet1 though the crime of
 cruelty cannot be justly laid to their 

charge on this occasion1 you will       
observe in the course of their  history1
 many things recorded of them very      
different from what you would  expect   
from the chosen people of ,god1 if you  
supposed them selected on  account of   
their own merit2 their national         
character was by no means  amiable2 and 
we are repeatedly told1 that they were  
not chosen for their  superior          
righteousness--for they were a          
stiff-necked people1 and  provoked the  
,lord with their rebellions from the day
 they left  ,egypt4--,you have been     
rebellious against the ,lord 7says      
,moses7 from  the day that ,i knew you4 
,and he vehemently exhorts them1 not to 
flatter  themselves that their success  
was1 in any degree1 owing to their own  
merits4    #bg4 ,they were appointed to 
be the scourge of other nations1 whose  
crimes  rendered them fit objects of    
divine chastisement4 ,for the sake of   
righteous ,abraham1 their founder1 and  
perhaps for many other wise  reasons1   

undiscovered to us1 they were selected  
from a world over-run  with idolatry1 to
 preserve upon earth the pure worship of
 the one only  ,god1 and to be honoured 
with the birth of the ,messiah amongst  
them4 ,for  this end1 they were         
precluded1 by divine command1 from      
mixing with any  other people1 and      
defended1 by a great number of peculiar 
rites and  observances1 from falling    
into the corrupt worship practised by   
their  neighbours4      ,of ,judges1    
,samuel1 and ,kings4    #bh4 ,the book  
of ,judges1 in which you will find the  
affecting stories of  ,sampson and      
,jeptha1 carries on the history from the
 death of ,joshua1  about two hundred   
and fifty years2 but1 the facts are not 
told in the  times in which they        
happened1 which makes some confusion2   
and it will be  necessary to consult the
 marginal dates and notes1 as well as   
the index1  in order to get any clear   
idea of the succession of events during 
that  period4    #bi4 ,the history then 

proceeds regularly through the two books
 of ,samuel1  and those of ,kings3      
nothing can be more interesting and     
entertaining  than the reigns of ,saul1 
,david1 and ,solomon3 but1 after the    
death of  ,solomon1 when ten tribes     
revolted from his son ,rehoboam1 and    
became a  separate kingdom1 you will    
find some difficulty in understanding   
distinctly the histories of the two     
kingdoms of ,israel and ,judah1 which   
are blended together1 and by the        
likeness of the names1 and other        
particulars1 will be apt to confound    
your mind1 without great attention  to  
the different threads thus carried on   
together3 ,the index here will  be of   
great use to you4 ,the second book of   
,kings concludes with the  ,babylonish  
captivity1 #ehh years before            
,christ--'till which time the  kingdom  
of ,judah had descended uninterruptedly 
in the line of ,david4      ,of         
,chronicles1 ,ezra1 ,nehemiah1 and      
,esther4    #cj4 ,the first book of     

,chronicles begins with a genealogy from
 ,adam1  through all the tribes of      
,israel and ,judah2 and the remainder is
 the  same history which is contained in
 the books of ,kings1 with little or no 
variation1 till the separation of the   
ten tribes3 ,from that period it        
proceeds with the history of the kingdom
 of ,judah alone1 and gives1  therefore1
 a more regular and clear account of the
 affairs of ,judah1  than the book of   
,kings4 ,you may pass over the first    
book of ,chronicles1  and the nine first
 chapters of the second book3 but1 by   
all means1 read  the remaining chapters1
 as they will give you more clear and   
distinct  ideas of the history of       
,judah1 than that you read in the second
 book of  ,kings4 ,the second of        
,chronicles ends1 like the second of    
,kings1 with the  ,babylonish captivity4
    #ca4 ,you must pursue the history in
 the book of ,ezra1 which gives the     
account of the return of some of the    
,jews on the edict of ,cyrus1 and of    

the re-building the ,lord's temple4     
#cb4 ,nehemiah carries on the history   
for about twelve years1 when he  himself
 was governor of ,jerusalem1 with       
authority to re-build the walls1  c4    
#cc4 ,the story of ,esther is prior in  
time to that of ,ezra and ,nehemiah2  us
 you will see by the marginal dates2    
however1 as it happened during  the     
seventy years captivity1 and is a kind  
of episode1 it may be read in  its own  
place4    #cd4 ,this is the last of the 
canonical books that is properly        
historical2  and ,i would therefore     
advise1 that you pass over what follows1
 till you  have continued the history   
through the ,apocryphal ,books4      ,of
 ,job4    #ce4 ,the history of ,job is  
probably very ancient1 though that is a 
point  upon which learned men have      
differed3 ,it is dated1 however1 #aebj  
years  before ,christ3 ,i believe it is 
uncertain by whom it was written3 many  
parts of it are obscure1 but it is well 
worth studying1 for the extreme  beauty 

of the poetry1 and for the noble and    
sublime devotion it  contains4    #cf4  
,the subject of the dispute between ,job
 and his pretended friends1  seems to   
be1 whether the ,providence of ,god     
distributes the rewards and  punishments
 of this life2 in exact proportion to   
the merit or demerit of  each           
individual4 ,his antagonists suppose    
that it does2 and therefore  infer from 
,job's uncommon calamities1 that1       
notwithstanding his apparent            
righteousness1 he was in reality a      
grievous sinner3 ,they aggravate his    
supposed guilt1 by the imputation of    
hypocrisy1 and call upon him to  confess
 it1 and to acknowledge the justice of  
his punishment4    #cg4 ,job asserts his
 own innocence and virtue in the most   
pathetic  manner1 yet does not presume  
to accuse the ,supreme ,being of        
injustice4  ,elihu attempts to arbitrate
 the matter1 by alledging the           
impossibility  that so frail and        
ignorant a creature as man should       

comprehend the ways  of the ,almighty1  
and therefore condemns the unjust and   
cruel inference  the three friends had  
drawn from the sufferings of ,job4 ,he  
also blames  ,job for the presumption of
 acquitting himself of all iniquity1    
since the  best of men are not pure in  
the sight of ,god--but all have         
something to  repent of2 and he advises 
him to make this use of his afflictions4
    #ch4 ,at last1 by a bold figure of  
poetry1 the ,supreme ,being himself is  
introduced1 speaking from the whirlwind1
 and silencing them all by the  most    
sublime display of his own power1       
magnificence1 and wisdom1 and of  the   
comparative littleness and ignorance of 
men4--,this1 indeed1 is the  only       
conclusion of the argument1 which could 
be drawn at a time when  life and       
immortality were not yet brought to     
light3 a future retribution  is the only
 satisfactory solution of the difficulty
 arising from the  sufferings of good   
people in this life4      ,of the       

,psalms4    #ci4 ,next follow the       
,psalms1 with which you cannot be too   
conversant4 ,if  you have any taste1    
either for poetry or devotion1 they will
 be your  delight1 and will afford you a
 continual feast4 ,the ,bible           
translation is  far better than that    
used in the common prayer-book1 and will
 often give  you the sense1 when the    
other is obscure4 ,in this1 as well as  
in all  other parts of the scripture1   
you must be careful always to consult   
the  margin1 which gives you the        
corrections made since the last         
translation1  and it is generally       
preferable to the words of the text4    
#dj4 ,i would wish you to select some of
 the ,psalms that please you best1  and 
get them by heart2 or1 at least1 make   
yourself master of the  sentiments      
contained in them3 ,dr4 ,delaney's life 
of ,david1 will shew you  the occasions 
on which several of them were composed1 
which add much to  their beauty and     
propriety2 and by comparing them with   

the events of  ,david's life1 you will  
greatly enhance your pleasure in them4  
#da4 ,never did the spirit of true piety
 breathe more strongly than in  these   
divine songs2 which being added to a    
rich vein of poetry1 makes  them more   
captivating to my heart and imagination1
 than any thing ,i ever  read4 ,you will
 consider how great disadvantages any   
poem must sustain  from being rendered  
literally into prose1 and then imagine  
how beautiful  these must be in the     
original4--,may you be enabled by       
reading them  frequently1 to transfuse  
into your own breast that holy flame    
which  inspired the writer6--,to delight
 in the ,lord1 and in his laws1 like the
  ,psalmist--to rejoice in him always1  
and to think one day in his courts      
better than a thousand6--,but may you   
escape the heart-piercing sorrow  of    
such repentance as that of ,david--by   
avoiding sin1 which humbled this        
unhappy king to the dust--and which cost
 him such bitter anguish1 as it  is     

impossible to read of without being     
moved4    #db4 ,not all the pleasures of
 the most prosperous sinners1 could     
counterbalance the hundredth part of    
those sensations described in his       
penitential psalms--and which must be   
the portion of every man1 who has       
fallen from a religious state into such 
crimes1 when once he recovers a  sense  
of religion and virtue1 and is brought  
to a real hatred of sin4  ,however1     
available such repentance may be to the 
safety and happiness of  the soul after 
death1 it is a state of such exquisite  
suffering here1  that one cannot be     
enough surprised at the folly of those  
who indulge  sin1 with the hope of      
living to make their peace with ,god by 
repentance4    #dc4 ,happy are they who 
preserve their innocence unsullied by   
any great  or wilful crimes1 and who    
have only the common failings of        
humanity to  repent of1 these are       
suffiently mortifying to a heart deeply 
smitten  with the love of virtue1 and   

with the desire of perfection4    #dd4  
,there are many very striking prophecies
 of the ,messiah in these  divine songs1
 particularly in psalm xxii4 ,such may  
be found scattered up  and down almost  
throughout the ,old ,testament4 ,to bear
 testimony to  him1 is the great and    
ultimate end for which the spirit of    
prophecy  was bestowed on the sacred    
writers2--but1 this will appear more    
plainly  to you when you enter on the   
study of prophecy1 which you are now    
much  too young to undertake4      ,of  
the ,proverbs1 ,ecclesiastes1 ,solomon's
 ,song1 the ,prophecies1 and            
,apocrypha4    #de4 ,the ,proverbs and  
,ecclesiastes are rich stores of wisdom2
 from which  ,i wish you to adopt such  
maxims as may be of infinite use1 both  
to your  temporal and eternal interest4 
,but1 detached sentences are a kind of  
reading not proper to be continued long 
at a time2 a few of them1 well  chosen  
and digested1 will do you much more     
service1 than to read half a  dozen     

chapters together3 in this respect1 they
 are directly opposite to  the          
historical books1 which1 if not read in 
continuation1 can hardly be  understood1
 or retained to any purpose4    #df4    
,the ,song of ,solomon is a fine        
poem--but its mystical reference to     
religion lies too deep for a common     
understanding3 if you read it1          
therefore1 it will be rather as matter  
of curiosity than of edification4       
#dg4 ,next follow the ,prophecies2      
which1 though highly deserving the      
greatest attention and study1 ,i think  
you had better omit for some  years1 and
 then read them with a good ,exposition1
 as they are much too  difficult for you
 to understand without assistance4 ,dr4 
,newton on the  prophecies1 will help   
you much1 whenever you undertake this   
study2 which  you should by all means do
 when your understanding is ripe enough2
  because one of the main proofs of our 
religion rests on the testimony of  the 
prophecies2 and they are very frequently

 quoted1 and referred to1 in  the ,new  
,testament3 besides1 the sublimity of   
the language and  sentiments1 through   
all the disadvantages of a antiquity and
  translation1 must1 in very many       
passages1 strike every person of taste2 
and the excellent moral and religious   
precepts found in them1 must be  useful 
to all4    #dh4 ,though ,i have spoken  
of these books in the order in which    
they  stand1 ,i repeat1 that they are   
not to be read in that order--but that  
the thread of the history is to be      
pursued1 from ,nehemiah to the first    
book of the ,maccabees1 in the          
,apocrypha2 taking care to observe the  
chronology regularly1 by referring to   
the index1 which supplies the           
deficiencies of this history from       
,josephus's ,antiquities of the ,jews4  
,the first of ,maccabees carries on the 
story till within #aie years of our     
,lord's circumcision3 the second book is
 the same narrative1 written by a       
different hand1 and does not bring the  

history so forward as the first2  so    
that it may be entirely omitted1 unless 
you have the curiosity to  read some    
particulars of the heroic constancy of  
the ,jews1 under the  tortures inflicted
 by their heathen conquerors1 with a few
 other things  not mentioned in the     
first book4    #di4 ,you must then      
connect the history by the help of the  
index1 which  will give you brief heads 
of the changes that happened in the     
state of  the ,jews1 from this time till
 the birth of the ,messiah4    #ej4 ,the
 other books of the ,apocrypha1 though  
not admitted as of sacred  authority1   
have many things well worth your        
attention2 particularly the  admirable  
book called ,ecclesiasticus1 and the    
book of ,wisdom4 ,but1 in  the course of
 reading which ,i advise1 these must be 
omitted till after  you have gone       
through the ,gospels and ,acts1 that you
 may not lose the  historical thread4   
,of the ,new ,testament1 which is       
constantly to be referred to as the     

,rule  and ,direction of our moral      
,conduct4    #ea4 ,we come now to that  
part of scripture1 which is the most    
important  of all1 and which you must   
make your constant study1 not only till 
you  are thoroughly acquainted with but 
all your life long2 because1 how  often 
soever repeated1 it is impossible to    
read the life and death of  our blessed 
,saviour1 without renewing and          
increasing in our hearts that  love and 
reverence1 and gratitude towards him1   
which is so justly due  for all he did  
and suffered for us6 ,every word that   
fell from his lips  is more precious    
than all the treasures of the earth2 for
 his are the  words of eternal life6    
,they must therefore be laid up in your 
heart1  and constantly referred to on   
all occasions1 as the rule and          
directions  of all your actions2        
particularly those very comprehensive   
moral  precepts he has graciously left  
with us1 which can never fail to direct 
us aright1 if fairly and honestly       

applied3 such as1 whatsoever you  would 
that men should do unto you1 even so do 
unto them4 ,there is no  occasion1 great
 or small1 on which you may not safely  
apply this rule  for the direction of   
your conduct2 and1 whilst your heart    
honestly  adheres to it1 you can never  
be guilty of any sort of injustice or   
unkindness4    #eb4 ,the two great      
commandments1 which contain the summary 
of our duty to  ,god and man1 are no    
less easily retained1 and made a        
standard by which  to judge our own     
hearts--,to love the ,lord our ,god1    
with all our own  hearts1 with all our  
minds1 with all our strength2 and our   
neighbour 7or  fellow-creature7 as      
ourselves4--,love worketh no ill to his 
neighbour4  ,therefore1 if you have true
 benevolence1 you will never do any     
thing  injurious to individuals1 or to  
society4    #ec4 ,now1 all crimes       
whatever1 are 7in their remoter         
consequences at  least1 if not          
immediately and apparently7 injurious to

 the society in  which we live4 ,it is  
impossible to love ,god without desiring
 to please  him1 and1 as far as we are  
able1 to resemble him3 therefore the    
love of  ,god must lead to every virtue 
in the highest degree2 and1 we may be   
sure  we do not truly love him1 if we   
content ourselves with avoiding flagrant
  sins1 and do not strive1 in good      
earnest1 to reach the greatest degree   
of perfection we are capable of4 ,thus  
do these few words direct as to  the    
highest ,christian virtue4 ,indeed2 the 
whole tenor of the ,gospel1 is  to offer
 us every help1 direction1 and motive1  
that can enable us to  attain that      
degree of perfection on which depends   
our eternal good4      ,of the ,example 
set by our ,saviour1 and his ,character4
    #ed4 ,what an example is set before 
us in our blessed master6 ,how is his   
whole life1 from earliest youth1        
dedicated to the pursuits of true       
wisdom1 and to the practice of the most 
exalted virtue6 ,when you see  him1 at  

twelve years of age1 in the temple      
amongst the doctors1 hearing  them1 and 
asking them questions on the subject of 
religion1 and  astonishing them all with
 his understanding and answers--you will
 say1  perhaps1 ,well might the ,son of 
,god1 even at those years1 be far wiser 
than the aged2 but1 can a mortal child  
emulate such heavenly wisdom6 ,can  such
 a pattern be proposed to my            
imitation8--,yes1 certainly2--remember  
that he has bequeathed to you his       
heavenly wisdom1 as far as concerns     
your own good4 ,he has left you such    
declarations of his will1 and of the    
consequences of your actions1 as you    
are1 even now1 fully able to            
understand1 if you will but attend to   
them4 ,if1 then1 you will imitate  his  
zeal for knowledge1 if you will delight 
in gaining information and  improvement1
 you may even now become wise unto      
salvation4    #ee4 ,unmoved by the      
praise he acquired amongst these learned
 men1 you see  him meekly return to the 

subjection of a child1 under those who  
appeared  to be his parents1 though he  
was in reality their ,lord2 you see him 
return to live with them1 to work for   
them1 and to be the joy and solace  of  
their lives2 till the time came1 when he
 was to enter on that scene  of public  
action1 for which his heavenly ,father  
had sent him from his  own right hand1  
to take upon him the form of a poor     
carpenter's son4    #ef4 ,what a lesson 
of humility is this1 and of obedience to
  parents6--,when1 having received the  
glorious testimony from heaven1 of  his 
being the beloved ,son of the most      
,high1 he enters on his public          
ministry1 what an example does he give  
us1 of the most extensive and  constant 
benevolence6--how are all his hours     
spent in doing good to the  souls and   
bodies of men6--not the meanest sinner  
is below his  notice3--,to reclaim and  
save them1 he condescends to converse   
familiarly  with the most corrupt as    
well as the most abject4 ,all his       

miracles are  wrought to benefit        
mankind2 not one to punish and afflict  
them4 ,instead  of using the almighty   
power which accompanied him1 to the     
purpose of  exalting himself1 and       
treading down his enemies1 he makes no  
other use  of it than to heal and to    
save4    #eg4 ,when you come to read of 
his sufferings and death1 the ignominy  
and  reproach1 the sorrow of mind1 and  
torment of body1 which he submitted     
to--when you consider1 that it was all  
for our sakes--that by his  stripes we  
are healed1--and by his death we are    
raised from destruction  to everlasting 
life--what can ,i say that can add any  
thing to the  sensations you must then  
feel8 ,no power of language can make the
 scene  more touching than it appears in
 the plain and simple narrations of the 
,evangelists4 ,the heart that is unmoved
 by it1 can be scarcely human2 but  the 
emotions of tenderness and compunction2 
which almost every one  feels in reading
 this account1 will be of no avail1     

unless applied to  the true end--unless 
it inspires you with a sincere and warm 
affection  towards your blessed         
,lord--with a firm resolution to obey   
his  commands--to be his faithful       
disciple--and ever renounce and abhor   
those  sins1 which brought mankind under
 divine condemnation1 and from which we 
have been redeemed at so clear a rate4  
#eh4 ,remember that the title of        
,christian1 or follower of ,christ1     
implies  a more than ordinary degree of 
holiness and goodness4 ,as our motives  
to  virtue are stronger than those which
 are afforded to the rest of  mankind1  
our guilt will be proportionally greater
 if we depart from it4    #ei4 ,our     
,saviour appears to have had three great
 purposes in descending  from his glory1
 and dwelling amongst men4 ,the first1  
to teach them true  virtue1 both by his 
example and precepts3 the second1 to    
give them the  most forcible motives to 
the practice of it1 by bringing life and
  immortality to light2 by shewing them 

the certainty of a resurrection  and    
judgment1 and the absolute necessity of 
obedience to ,god's laws4 ,the  third1  
to sacrifice himself for us1 to obtain  
by his death the remission  of our sins1
 upon our repentance and reformation1   
and the power of  bestowing on his      
sincere followers1 the inestimable gift 
of immortal  happiness4      ,a         
,comparative ,view of the ,blessed and  
,cursed at the ,last ,day1 and the      
,inference to be drawn from it4    #fj4 
,what a tremendous scene of the last day
 does the gospel place before  our      
eyes6--of that day1 when you and every  
one of us shall awake from  the grave1  
and behold the ,son of ,god1 on his     
glorious tribunal1 attended  by millions
 of celestial beings1 of whose superior 
excellence we can now  form no adequate 
idea--,when1 in presence of all mankind1
 of those holy  angels1 and of the great
 ,judge himself1 you must give an       
account of your  past life1 and hear    
your final doom1 from which there can be

 no appeal1  and which must determine   
your fate to all eternity3 then         
think--if for a  moment you can hear the
 thought--what will be the desolation1  
shame1 and  anguish of those wretched   
souls1 who shall hear these dreadful    
words--,depart from me1 ye cursed1 into 
everlasting fire1 prepared for  the     
devil and his angels4--,oh6--,i cannot  
support even the idea of your  becoming 
one of those undone1 lost creatures6 ,i 
trust in ,god's mercy1  that you will   
make a better use of that knowledge of  
his will1 which he  has vouchsafed you1 
and of those amiable dispositions he has
 given you4    #fa4 ,let us1 therefore1 
turn from this horrid1 this             
insupportable  view--and rather         
endeavour to imagine1 as far as is      
possible1 what will  be the sensations  
of your soul1 if you shall hear our     
heavenly ,judge  address you in these   
transporting words--,come thou blessed  
of my  ,father1 inherit the kingdom     
prepared for you from the foundation of 

the  world4--,think1 what it must be1 to
 become an object of the esteem and     
applause--not only of all mankind       
assembled together--but of all the  host
 of heaven1 of our blessed ,lord        
himself--nay1 of his and our  ,almighty 
,father3--to find your frail flesh      
changed in a moment into a  glorious    
celestial body1 endowed with perfect    
beauty1 health1 and  agility2--to find  
your soul cleansed from all its faults  
and  infirmities2 exalted to the purest 
and noblest affections2 overflowing     
with divine love and rapturous          
gratitude6--to have your understanding  
enlightened and refined2 your heart     
enlarged and purified2 and every  power1
 and disposition of mind and body1      
adapted to the highest relish  of virtue
 and happiness6--,thus accomplished1 to 
be admitted into the  society of amiable
 and happy beings1 all united in the    
most perfect  peace and friendship1 all 
breathing nothing but love to ,god1 and 
to each  other2--with them to dwell in  

scenes more delightful than the richest 
imagination can paint--free from every  
pain and care1 and from all  possibility
 of change or satiety3--but1 above all1 
to enjoy the more  immediate presence of
 ,god himself--to be able to comprehend 
and admire  his adorable perfections in 
a high degree1 though still far short of
  their infinity--to be conscious1 of   
his love and favour1 and to rejoice  in 
the light of his countenance6    #fb4   
,but here all imagination fails3--we can
 form no idea of that bliss  which may  
be communicated to us by such a near    
approach to the source of  all beauty   
and all good3--we must content ourselves
 with believing1  that it is what mortal
 eye hath not seen1 nor ear heard1      
neither hath  it entered into the heart 
of man to conceive4 ,the crown of all   
our joys  will be1 to know that we are  
secure of possessing them for ever--what
 a  transporting idea6    #fc4 ,can you 
reflect on all these things1 and not    
feel the most earnest  longings after   

immortality8 ,do not all other views and
 desires seem mean  and trifling1 when  
compared with this8--,and does not your 
inmost heart  resolve1 that this shall  
be the chief and constant object of its 
wishes  and pursuit1 through the whole  
course of your life8    #fd4 ,if you are
 not insensible to that desire of       
happiness which seems  woven into our   
nature1 you cannot surely be unmoved by 
the prospect of  such a transcendant    
degree of it2 and that--continued to all
  eternity--perhaps continually         
increasing4 ,you cannot but dread the   
forfeiture of such an inheritance as the
 most insupportable  evil6--,remember   
then--remember the conditions on which  
alone it can be  obtained4 ,god will not
 give to vice1 to carelessness1 or      
sloth1 the  prize he has proposed to    
virtue4 ,you have every help that can   
animate  your endeavours3 ,you have     
written laws to direct you--the example 
of  ,christ and his disciples to        
encourage you--the most awakening       

motives to  engage you--and you have1   
besides1 the comfortable promise of     
constant  assistance from the ,holy     
,spirit1 if you diligently and sincerely
 pray  for it4 ,o6 let not all this     
mercy be lost upon you--but give your   
attention to this your only important   
concern1 and accept1 with profound      
gratitude1 the inestimable advantages   
that are thus affectionately  offered   
you4    #fe4 ,though the four ,gospels  
are each of them a narration of the     
life1  sayings1 and death of ,christ2   
yet as they are not exactly alike1 but  
some circumstances and sayings omitted  
in one1 are recorded in another1  you   
must make yourself perfectly master of  
them all4    #ff4 ,the ,acts of the     
,holy ,apostles1 endowed with the ,holy 
,ghost1 and  authorised by their ,divine
 ,master1 come next in order to be read4
  ,nothing can be more interesting and  
edifying1 than the history of their     
actions--of the piety1 zeal1 and        
courage1 with which they preached the   

glad tidings of salvation1 and of the   
various exertions of the wonderful      
powers conferred on them by the ,holy   
,spirit for the confirmation of  their  
mission4      ,character of ,st4 ,paul4 
#fg4 ,the character of ,st4 ,paul1 and  
his miraculous conversion1 demand  your 
particular attention3 most of the       
,apostles were men of low birth  and    
education2 but ,st4 ,paul was a ,roman  
citizen2 that is1 he possessed  the     
privileges annexed to the freedom of the
 city of ,rome1 which was  considered as
 a high distinction in those countries  
that had been  conquered by the ,romans4
 ,he was educated amongst the most      
learned sect  of the ,jews1 and by one  
of their principal doctors4 ,he was a   
man of  extraordinary eloquence1 as     
appears not only in his writings1 but in
  several speeches in his own defence1  
pronounced before governors and  courts 
of justice1 when he was called to       
account for the doctrines he  taught4   
#fh4 ,he seems to have been of an       

uncommonly warm temper1 and zealous in  
whatever religion he professed3 his     
zeal1 before his conversion1 shewed     
itself in the most unjustifiable        
actions1 by furiously persecuting the   
innocent ,christians3 but1 though his   
actions were bad1 we may be sure  his   
intentions were good2 otherwise we      
should not have seen a miracle  employed
 to convince him of his mistake1 and to 
bring him into the right  way4    #fi4  
,this example may assure us of the mercy
 of ,god towards mistaken  consciences1 
and ought to inspire us with the most   
enlarged charity and  good will towards 
those whose erroneous principles mislead
 their  conduct3 instead of resentment  
and hatred against their persons1 we    
ought only to feel an active wish of    
assisting them to find the truth1  since
 we know not whether1 if convinced1 they
 might not prove1 like ,st4  ,paul1     
chosen vessels to promote the honour of 
,god1 and of true religion4    #gj4 ,it 
is not now my intention to enter with   

you into any of the  arguments for the  
truth of ,christianity1 otherwise it    
would be  impossible wholly to pass over
 that which arises from this remarkable 
conversion1 and which has been so       
admirably illustrated by a nobler       
writer1 whose tract on this subject is  
in everybody's hands4      ,of the      
,epistles4    #ga4 ,next follow the     
,epistles1 which make a very important  
part of the  ,new ,testament2 and you   
cannot be too much employed in reading  
them4 ,they  contain the most excellent 
precepts and admonitions2 and are of    
particular use in explaining more at    
large several doctrines of              
,christianity1 which we could not so    
fully comprehend without them4    #gb4  
,there are indeed1 in the ,epistles of  
,st4 ,paul1 many passages hard to  be   
understood3 such in particular are the  
first eleven chapters to the  ,romans2  
the greater part of his ,epistles to the
 ,corinthians and  ,galatians2 and      
several chapters of that to the         

,hebrews4 ,instead of  perplexing       
yourself with these more obscure        
passages of scripture1 ,i  would wish   
you to employ your attention chiefly on 
those that are plain2  and to judge of  
the doctrines taught in the other parts1
 by comparing  them with what you find  
in these4 ,it is through the neglect of 
this  rule1 that many have been led to  
draw the most absurd doctrines from the 
,holy ,scriptures4    #gc4 ,let me      
particularly recommend to your careful  
perusal1 the xii1  xiii1 xiv1 and xv    
chapters of the ,epistle to the ,romans4
 ,in the xiv  chapter1 ,st4 ,paul has in
 view the difference between the ,jewish
 and  ,gentile 7or ,heathen7 converts at
 that time2 the former were disposed to 
look with horror on the latter1 for     
their impiety in not paying the same    
regard to the distinctions of days and  
meats that they did2 and the  latter1 on
 the contrary1 were inclined to look    
with contempt on the  former1 for their 
weakness and superstition4    #gd4      

,excellent is the advice which the      
,apostle gives to both parties3 he      
exhorts the ,jewish converts not to     
judge and the ,gentiles not to  despise2
 remembering that the kingdom of ,heaven
 is not meat and drink1  but            
righteousness and peace1 and joy in the 
,holy ,ghost4    #ge4 ,endeavour to     
conform yourself to this advice2 to     
acquire a temper of  universal candour  
and benevolence2 and learn neither to   
despise nor  condemn any persons on     
account of their particular modes of    
faith and  worship3 remembering always1 
that goodness is confined to no party1  
that  there are wise and worthy men     
among all the sects of ,christians1 and 
that to his own master every one must   
stand or fall4    #gf4 ,i will enter no 
farther into the several points         
discussed by ,st4  ,paul in his various 
epistles2 most of them are too intricate
 for your  understanding at present1 and
 many of them beyond my abilities to    
state  clearly4 ,i will only again      

recommend to you1 to read those passages
  frequently1 which1 with1 so much      
fervor and energy1 excite you to the    
practice of the most exalted piety and  
benevolence4 ,if the effusions of  a    
heart1 warmed with the tenderest        
affection for the whole human race2  if 
precept1 warning1 encouragement1        
example1 urged by an eloquence which    
such affection only could inspire1 are  
capable of influencing your mind2  you  
cannot fail to find1 in such parts of   
his epistles as are adapted to  your    
understanding1 the strongest persuasives
 to every virtue that can  adorn and    
improve your nature4      ,the ,epistle 
of ,st4 ,james4    #gg4 ,the ,epistle of
 ,st4 ,james is entirely practical1 and 
exceedingly  fine2 you cannot study it  
too much4 ,it seems particularly        
designed to  guard ,christians against  
misunderstanding some things in ,st4    
,paul's  writings1 which have been      
fatally perverted to the encouragement  
of a  dependence on faith alone1 without

 good works4 ,but1 the more rational    
commentators will tell you1 that by the 
works of the law1 which the  ,apostle   
asserts to be incapable of justifying   
us1 he means not the works  of moral    
righteousness1 but the ceremonial works 
of the ,mosaic law2 on  which the ,jews 
laid the greatest stress as necessary to
 salvation4 ,but1  ,st4 ,james tells us1
 that if any man among us seem to be    
religious1 and  bridleth not his tongue1
 but deceiveth his own heart1 that man's
  religion is vain2--and that pure      
religion1 and undefiled before ,god  and
 the ,father1 is this1 to visit the     
fatherless and widow in their           
affliction1 and to keep himself         
unspotted from the world4 ,faith in     
,christ1 if it produce not these        
effects1 he declareth is dead1 or of no 
power4      ,epistles of ,st4 ,peter1   
and the first of ,st4 ,john4    #gh4    
,the ,epistles of ,st4 ,peter are also  
full of the best instructions and       
admonitions1 concerning the relative    

duties of life2 amongst which are  set  
forth the duties of women in general1   
and of wives in particular4  ,some part 
of his second ,epistle is prophetical2  
warning the church of  false teachers   
and false doctrines1 which undermine    
morality1 and  disgrace the cause of    
,christianity4    #gi4 ,the first of    
,st4 ,john is written in a highly       
figurative stile1 which  makes it in    
some parts hard to be understood3 but   
the spirit of divine  love which it so  
fervently expresses1 renders it highly  
edifying and  delightful4--,that love of
 ,god and of ,man1 which this beloved   
apostle so  pathetically recommends1 is 
in truth the essence of religion as our 
,saviour himself informs us4      ,of   
the ,revelations4    #hj4 ,the book of  
,revelations contains a prophetical     
account of most of  the greater events  
relating to the ,christian church1 which
 were to  happen from the time of the   
writer1 ,st4 ,john1 to the end of the   
world4  ,many learned men have taken a  

great deal of pains to explain it2 and  
they have done this in many instances   
very successfully2 but1 ,i think1  it is
 yet too soon for you to study this part
 of scripture3 some years  hence1       
perhaps1 there may be no objection to   
your attempting it1 and  taking into    
your hands the best ,expositions to     
assist you in reading  such of the most 
difficult parts of the ,new ,testament  
as you cannot now  be supposed to       
understand4--,may heaven direct you in  
studying this  sacred volume1 and render
 it the means of making you wise unto   
salvation6---,may you love and          
reverence1 as it deserves1 this blessed 
and valuable book1 which contains the   
best rule of life1 the clearest         
declaration of the will and laws of the 
,deity1 the reviving assurance of       
favour to true penitants1 and the       
unspeakable joyful tidings of eternal   
life and happiness to all the truly     
virtuous1 through ,jesus ,christ1 the   
,saviour and ,deliverer of the world4   

,true ,devotion productive of the truest
 ,pleasure4      #a4 ,you see that true 
devotion is not a melancholy sentiment1 
that  depresses the spirits and excludes
 the ideas1 of pleasure1 which youth  is
 so fond of3 on the contrary1 there is  
nothing so friendly to joy1 so          
productive of true pleasure1 so         
peculiarly suited to the warmth and     
innocence of a youthful heart4 ,do not1 
therefore1 think it too soon to  turn   
your mind to ,god2 but offer him1 the   
first fruits of your  understanding and 
affections3 and1 be assured1 that the   
more you  increase in love to him1 and  
delight in his laws1 the more you will  
increase in happiness1 in excellence1   
and honour3--that1 in proportion  as you
 improve in true piety1 you will become 
dear and amiable to your  fellow        
creatures2 contented and peaceable in   
yourself1 and qualified to  enjoy the   
best blessings of this life1 as well as 
to inherit the  glorious promise of     
immortality4    #b4 ,thus far ,i have   

spoken of the first principles of all   
religion3  namely1 belief in ,god1      
worthy notions of his attributes1 and   
suitable  affections towards him--which 
will naturally excite a sincere desire  
of  obedience4 ,but1 before you can obey
 his will1 you must know what that  will
 is2 you must enquire in what manner he 
has declared it1 and where  you may find
 those laws1 which must be the rule of  
your actions4    #c4 ,the great laws of 
morality are indeed written in our      
hearts1 and may  be discovered by       
reason2 but our reason is of slow       
growth1 very  unequally dispensed to    
different persons2 liable to error1 and 
confined  within very narrow limits in  
all4 ,if1 therefore1 ,god has vouchsafed
 to  grant a particular revelation of   
his will--if he has been so unspeakably 
gracious as to send his ,son into the   
world1 to reclaim mankind from  error   
and wickedness--to die for our sins--and
 to teach us the way to  eternal        
life--surely it becomes us to receive   

his precepts with the  deepest          
reverence2 to love and prize them above 
all things2 and to study  them          
constantly1 with an earnest desire to   
conform our thoughts1 our  words and    
actions1 to them4      ,a ,morning      
,prayer for a young ,student at ,school1
 or for the common ,use  of a ,school4  
,father of all6 we return thee most     
humble and hearty thanks for thy        
protection of us in the night season1   
and for the refreshment of our  souls   
and bodies1 in the sweet repose of      
sleep4 ,accept also our  unfeigned      
gratitude for all thy mercies during the
 helpless age of  infancy4    ,continue1
 we beseech thee1 to guard us under the 
shadow of thy wing4 ,our  age is tender1
 and our nature frail1 and without the  
influence of thy  grace1 we shall surely
 fall4    ,let that influence descend   
into our hearts1 and teach us to love   
thee  and truth above all things4 ,o    
guard our hearts from the temptations to
  deceit1 and grant1 that we may abhor a

 lie as a sin and as a disgrace4        
,inspire us also with an abhorrence of  
the loathsomeness of vice1 and the      
pollutions of sensual pleasure4 ,grant  
at the same time1 that we may  early    
feel the delight of conscious purity1   
and wash our hands in  innocency1 from  
the united motives of inclination and of
 duty4    ,give us1 ,o thou ,parent of  
all knowledge1 a love of learning1 and a
  taste for the pure and sublime        
pleasures of the understanding4 ,improve
  our memory1 quicken our apprehension1 
and grant that we may lay up such  a    
store of learning1 as may fit us for the
 station to which it shall  please thee 
to call us1 and enable us to make great 
advances in virtue  and religion1 and   
shine as lights in the world1 by the    
influence of a  good example4    ,give  
us grace to be diligent in our studies1 
and that whatever we read  we may       
strongly mark1 and inwardly digest it4  
,bless our parents1 guardians1 and      
instructors2 and grant that we may  make

 them the best return in our power1 for 
giving us opportunities of  improvement1
 and for all their care and attention to
 our welfare4 ,they  ask no return1 but 
that we should make use of those        
opportunities1 and  co-operate with     
their endeavours--,o grant that we may  
never disappoint  their anxious         
expectations4    ,assist us mercifully1 
,o ,lord1 that we may immediately engage
 in the  studies and duties of the day1 
and go through them cheerfully1         
diligently and successfully4    ,accept 
our endeavours1 and pardon our defects  
through the merits of our  blessed      
,saviour1 ,jesus ,christ our ,lord4     
,amen4      ,an ,evening ,prayer4    ,o 
almighty ,god6 again we approach thy    
mercy-seat1 to offer unto thee our      
thanks and praises for the blessings and
 protection afforded us this  day2 and  
humbly to implore thy pardon for our    
manifold transgressions4    ,grant that 
the words of various instruction which  
we have heard or read  this day1 may be 

so inwardly grafted in our hearts and   
memories1 as to  bring forth the fruits 
of learning and virtue4    ,grant that  
as we recline on our pillows1 we may    
call to mind the  transactions of the   
day1 condemn those things of which our  
conscience  accuses us1 and make and    
keep resolutions of amendment4    ,grant
 that thy holy angels may watch over us 
this night1 and guard us  from          
temptation1 excluding all improper      
thoughts1 and filling our  breasts with 
the purest sentiments of piety4 ,like as
 the heart panteth  for the water-brook1
 so let our souls thirst for thee1 ,o   
,lord1 and for  whatever is excellent   
and beautiful in learning and behaviour4
    ,correct1 by the sweet influence of 
,christian charity1 the  irregularities 
of our temper1 and restrain every       
tendency to  ingratitude2 and to ill    
usage of our parents1 teachers1 pastors1
 and  masters4 ,teach us to know the    
value of a good education1 and to be    
thankful to those who labour in the     

improvement of our minds and morals4    
,give us grace to be reverent to our    
superiors1 gentle to our equals or      
inferiors1 and benevolent to all        
mankind4 ,elevate and enlarge our       
sentiments1 and let all our conduct be  
regulated by right reason1 by           
,christian charity1 and attended with   
that peculiar generosity of mind1  which
 becomes a liberal scholar and a sincere
 ,christian4    ,o ,lord1 bestow upon us
 whatever may be good for us1 even      
though we  should omit to pray for it2  
and avert whatever is hurtful1 though in
 the  blindness of our hearts we should 
wish for it4    ,into thy hands1 then1  
we resign ourselves1 as we retire to    
rest1 hoping  by thy mercy to rise again
 with renewed spirits1 to go through the
  business of the morrow1 and to prepare
 ourselves for this life1 and for  a    
blessed immortality2 which we ardently  
hope to attain1 through the  merits and 
intercession of thy ,son our ,saviour1  
,jesus ,christ our ,lord4  ,amen4       

,,appendix4    ,of ,columbus1 and the   
,discovery of ,america4      #a4 ,it is 
to the discoveries of the ,portuguese in
 the old world1 that we  are indebted   
for the new1 if we may call the conquest
 of ,america an  obligation1 which      
proved so fatal to its inhabitants1 and 
at times to  the conquerors themselves4 
#b4 ,this was doubtless the most        
important event that ever happened on   
our  globe1 one half of which had been  
hitherto strangers to the other4        
,whatever had been esteemed most great  
or noble before1 seemed absorbed  in    
this kind of new creation4 ,we still    
mention1 with respectful  admiration1   
the names of the ,argonauts1 who did not
 perform the  hundredth part of what was
 done by the sailors under ,gama and    
,albuquerque4 ,how many altars would    
have been raised by the ancients to a   
,greek who had discovered ,america6 and 
yet ,bartholomew and ,christopher       
,columbus were not thus rewarded4    #c4
 ,columbus1 struck with the wonderful   

expeditions of the ,portuguese1         
imagined that something greater might be
 done2 and from a bare  inspection of   
the map of our world1 concluded that    
there must be another  which might be   
found by sailing always west4 ,he had   
courage equal to his  genius1 or indeed 
superior1 seeing he had to struggle with
 the  prejudices of his cotemporaries1  
and the repulses of several princes to  
whom he had tendered his services4      
#d4 ,genoa1 which was his native        
country1 treated his schemes as         
visionary1 and by that means lost the   
only opportunity that could have        
offered of aggrandizing her power4      
,henry ,,vii4 king of ,england1 who was 
too greedy of money1 to hazard any on   
this noble attempt1 would not  listen to
 the proposals made by ,columbus's      
brother2 and ,columbus himself  was     
rejected by ,john ,,ii4 of ,portugal1   
whose attention was wholly  employed    
upon the coast of ,africa4 ,he had no   
prospect of success in  applying to the 

,french1 whose marine lay totally       
neglected1 and their  affairs more      
confused than ever1 daring the ,minority
 of ,charles ,,viii4  ,the emperor      
,maximilian1 had neither ports for      
shipping1 money to fit out  a fleet1 nor
 sufficient courage to engage in a      
scheme of this nature4  ,the ,venetians1
 indeed1 might have undertaken it2 but  
whether the natural  aversion of the    
,genoese to these people1 would not     
suffer ,columbus to  apply to the rivals
 of his country1 or that the ,venetians 
had no idea of  any thing more important
 than the trade they carried on from    
,alexandria  and in the ,levant1        
,columbus at length fixed all his hopes 
on the court  of ,spain4    #e4         
,ferdinand1 king of ,arragon1 and       
,isabella1 queen of ,castile1 had by    
their marriage united all ,spain under  
one dominion1 excepting only the        
kingdom of ,granada1 which was still in 
the possession of the ,moors2 but  which
 ,ferdinand soon after took from them4  

,the union of these two  princes had    
prepared the way for the greatness of   
,spain1 which was  afterwards begun by  
,columbus2 he was however obliged to    
undergo eight  years of incessant       
application1 before ,isabella's court   
would consent to  accept of the         
inestimable benefit this great man      
offered it4 ,the bane of  all great     
objects is the want of money4 ,the      
,spanish court was poor2 and  the prior1
 ,perez1 and two merchants1 named       
,pinzono1 were obliged to  advance      
seventeen thousand ducats towards       
fitting out the armament4  ,columbus    
procured a patent from the court1 and at
 length set sail from  the port of      
,palos1 in ,andalusia1 with three ships1
 on ,august #bc1 in the  year #adib4    
#f4 ,it was not above a month after his 
departure from the ,canary ,islands1    
where he had come to an anchor to get   
refreshment1 when ,columbus  discovered 
the first island in ,america2 and during
 this short run1 he  suffered more from 

the murmurings and discontent of the    
people of his  fleet1 than he had done  
even from the refusals of the princes he
 had  applied to4 ,this island1 which he
 discovered and named ,st4 ,salvador1   
lies about a thousand leagues from the  
,canaries4 ,presently after he  likewise
 discovered the ,lucayan islands1       
together with those of ,cuba and        
,hispaniola1 now called ,st4 ,domingo4  
#g4 ,ferdinand and ,isabella were in the
 utmost surprise to see him return  at  
the end of nine months1 with some of the
 ,american natives of  ,hispaniola1     
several rarities from that country1 and 
a quantity of gold1  with which he      
presented their majesties4    #h4 ,the  
king and queen made him sit down in     
their presence1 covered like  a grandee 
of ,spain1 and created him high admiral 
and viceroy of the new  world4 ,columbus
 was now every where looked upon as an  
extraordinary  person sent from heaven4 
,everyone was vying who should be       
foremost in  assisting him in his       

undertakings1 and embarking under his   
command4 ,he  soon set sail again1 with 
a fleet of seventeen ships4 ,he now made
 the  discovery of several other new    
islands1 particularly the ,caribees and 
,jamaica4 ,doubt had been changed into  
admiration on his first voyage2 in      
this1 admiration was turned into envy4  
#i4 ,he was admiral and viceroy1 and to 
these titles might have been added  that
 of the benefactor of ,ferdinand and    
,isabella4 ,nevertheless1 he was        
brought home prisoner to ,spain1 by     
judges who had been purposely sent  out 
on board to observe his conduct4 ,as    
soon as it was known that  ,columbus was
 arrived1 the people ran in shoals to   
meet him1 as the  guardian genius of    
,spain4 ,columbus was brought from the  
ship1 and  appeared on shore chained    
hands and feet4    #aj4 ,he had been    
thus treated by the orders of ,fonseca1 
,bishop of ,burgos1  the intendant of   
the expedition1 whose ingratitude was as
 great as the  other's services4        

,isabella was ashamed of what she saw1  
and did all in  her power to make       
,columbus amends for the injuries done  
to him3 however  he was not suffered to 
depart for four years1 either because   
they feared  that he would seize upon   
what he had discovered for himself1 or  
that  they were willing to have time to 
observe his behaviour4 ,at length he    
was sent on another voyage to the new   
world2 and now it was that he           
discovered the continent1 at six degrees
 distance from the equator1 and  saw    
that part of the coast on which         
,carthagena has been since built4       
#aa4 ,at the time that ,columbus first  
promised a new hemisphere1 it was       
insisted upon that no such hemisphere   
could exist2 and after he had made  the 
actual discovery of it1 it was pretended
 that it had been known long  before4   
#ab4 ,i shall not mention one ,martin   
,behem1 of ,nuremberg1 who1 it is said1 
went from that city to the ,straits of  
,magellan1 in #adfj1 with a patent  from

 the ,duchess of ,burgundy1 who1 as she 
was not alive at that time1  could not  
issue patents4 ,nor shall ,i take notice
 of the pretended charts  of this       
,martin ,behem1 which are still shewn2  
nor of the evident  contradictions which
 discredit this story3 but1 in short1 it
 was not  pretended that ,martin ,behem 
had peopled ,america2 the honour was    
given to  the ,carthaginians1 and a book
 of ,aristotle was quoted on the        
occasion1  which he never wrote4 ,some  
found out a conformity between some     
words in  the ,caribee and ,hebrew      
languages1 and did not fail to follow so
 fine an  opening4 ,others were positive
 that the children of ,noah1 after      
settling  in ,siberia1 passed from      
thence over to ,canada on the ice1 and  
that their  descendants1 afterwards born
 in ,canada1 had gone and peopled ,peru4
  ,according to others again1 the       
,chinese and ,japanese sent colonies    
into  ,america1 and carried over lions  
with them for their diversion1 though   

there are no lions either in ,china or  
,japan4    #ac4 ,in this manner have    
many learned men argued upon the        
discoveries  made by men of genius4 ,if 
it should be asked1 how men first came  
upon  the continent of ,america8 ,is it 
not easily answered1 that they were     
placed there by the same power who      
causes trees and grass to grow8    #ad4 
,the reply which ,columbus made to some 
of those who envied him the  high       
reputation he had gained1 is still      
famous4 ,these people pretended  that   
nothing could be more easy than the     
discoveries he had made2 upon  which he 
proposed to them to set an egg upright  
on one of its ends2 but  when they had  
tried in vain to do it1 he broke one end
 of the egg1 and  set it upright with   
ease4 ,they told him any one could do   
that3 ,how comes  it then1 replied      
,columbus1 that not one among you       
thought of it8 ,this  story is related  
of ,brunelleschi1 who improved          
architecture at ,florence  many years   

before ,columbus was born4 ,most        
bon-mots are only the  repetition of    
things that have been said before4      
#ae4 ,the ashes of ,columbus cannot be  
affected by the reputation he gained    
while living1 in having doubled for us  
the works of the creation4 ,but  mankind
 delight to do justice to the           
illustrious dead1 either from a  vain   
hope that they enhance thereby the merit
 of the living1 or that  they are       
naturally fond of truth4    #af4        
,americo ,vespucci1 whom we call        
,americus ,vespusius1 a merchant of     
,florence1 had the honour of giving his 
name to this new half of the  globe1 in 
which he did not possess one acre of    
land1 and pretended to be  the first who
 discovered the continent4 ,but         
supposing it true1 that he  was the     
first discoverer1 the glory was         
certainly due to him who had the        
penetration and courage to undertake and
 perform the first voyage3  ,honour1 as 
,newton says in his dispute with        

,leibnitz1 is due only to the  first    
inventor2 and those that follow after   
are only his scholars4    #ag4 ,columbus
 had made three voyages as admiral and  
viceroy1 five years  before ,americas   
,vespusius had made one as a geographer1
 under the  command of admiral ,ojeda2  
but the latter1 writing to his friends  
at  ,florence1 that he had discovered a 
new world1 they believed him on his     
word1 and the citizens of ,florence     
decreed1 that a grand illumination      
should be made before the door of his   
house every three years1 on the  feast  
of ,all ,saints4 ,and yet1 could this   
man be said to deserve any  honours1 for
 happening to be on board a fleet that1 
in #adhi2 sailed  along the coast of    
,brazil1 when ,columbus had1 five years 
before1 pointed  out the way to the rest
 of the world8    #ah4 ,there has lately
 appeared at ,florence1 a life of this  
,americus  ,vespusius1 which seems to be
 written with very little regard to     
truth1  and without any conclusive      

reasoning4 ,several ,french authors are 
there  complained of1 who have done     
justice to ,columbus's merit2 but the   
writer  should not have fallen upon the 
,french authors1 but on the ,spanish1   
who  were the first that did this       
justice4 ,this writer says1 that he will
  confound the vanity of the ,french    
nation1 who have always attacked with   
impunity the honour and success of the  
,italian nation4    #ai4 ,what vanity   
can there be in saying1 that it was a   
,genoese that first  discovered         
,america8 or how is the honour of the   
,italian nation injured  in owning1 that
 it was to an ,italian born in ,genoa1  
that we are indebted  for the new world8
 ,i purposely remark this want of       
equity1 good  breeding1 and good sense1 
as we have too many examples of it2 and 
,i must  say1 that the good ,french     
writers have in general been the least  
guilty  of this insufferable fault2 and 
one great reason of their being so      
universally read throughout ,europe1 is 

their doing justice to all  nations4    
#bj4 ,the inhabitants of these islands1 
and of the continent1 were a new  race  
of men4 ,they were all without beards1  
and were as much astonished  at the     
faces of the ,spaniards1 as they were at
 their ships and  artillery3 they at    
first looked upon these new visitors as 
monsters or  gods1 who had come out of  
the sky or the sea4    #ba4 ,these      
voyages1 and those of the ,portuguese1  
had now taught us how  inconsiderable a 
spot of the globe our ,europe was1 and  
what an  astonishing variety reigns in  
the world4 ,indostan was known to be    
inhabited by a race of men whose        
complexions were yellow4 ,in ,africa and
  ,asia1 at some distance from the      
equator1 there had been found several   
kinds of black men2 and after travellers
 had penetrated into ,america1 as  far  
as the line1 they met with a race of    
people who were tolerably  white4 ,the  
natives of ,brazil are of the colour of 
bronze4 ,the ,chinese  still appear to  

differ entirely from the rest of        
mankind1 in the make of  their eyes and 
noses4 ,but what is still to be remarked
 is1 that into  whatsoever regions these
 various races are transplanted1 their  
complexions never change1 unless they   
mingle with the natives of the  country4
 ,the mucous membrane of the negroes1   
which is known to be of a  black colour1
 is a manifest proof1 that there is a   
differential  principle in each species 
of men1 as well as plants4    #bb4      
,dependent upon this principle1 nature  
has formed the different  degrees of    
genius1 and the characters of nations1  
which are seldom known  to change4      
,hence the negroes are slaves to other  
men1 and are purchased  on the coast of 
,africa like beasts1 for a sum of money2
 and the vast  multitudes of negroes    
transplanted into our ,american         
colonies1 serve as  slaves under a very 
inconsiderable number of ,europeans4    
,experience has  likewise taught us how 
great a superiority the ,europeans have 

over the  ,americans1 who are every     
where easily overcome1 and have not     
dared to  attempt a revolution1 though a
 thousand to one superior in numbers4   
#bc4 ,this part of ,america was also    
remarkable on account of its animals    
and plants1 which are not to be found in
 the other three parts of the  world1   
and which are of so great use to us4    
,horses1 corn of all kinds1  and iron1  
were not wanting in ,mexico and ,peru1  
and among the many  valuable commodities
 unknown to the old world1 cochineal was
 the  principal1 and was brought us from
 this country4 ,its use in dying has    
now made us forget the scarlet1 which   
for time immemorial had been the  only  
thing known for giving a fine red       
colour4    #bd4 ,the importation of     
cochineal was soon succeeded by that of 
indigo1  cocoa1 vanille1 and those woods
 which serve for ornament and medicinal 
purposes1 particularly the quinquina1 or
 ,jesuit's bark1 which is the  only     
specific against intermitting fevers4   

,nature has placed this remedy  in the  
mountains of ,peru1 whilst she had      
dispersed the disease it cured  through 
all the rest of the world4 ,this new    
continent likewise furnished  pearls2   
coloured stones1 and diamonds4    #be4  
,it is certain1 that ,america at present
 furnishes the meanest citizen  of      
,europe with his conveniences and       
pleasures4 ,the gold and silver  mines1 
at their first discovery1 were of       
service only to the kings of  ,spain and
 the merchants2 the rest of the world   
was impoverished by them2  for the great
 multitudes who did not follow business1
 found themselves  possessed of a very  
small quantity of specie1 in comparison 
with the  immense sums accumulated by   
those who had the advantage of the first
  discoveries4 ,but1 by degrees1 the    
great quantity of gold and silver  which
 was sent from ,america1 was dispersed  
throughout all ,europe1 and by  passing 
into a number of hands1 the distribution
 is become more equal4  ,the price of   

commodities is likewise increased in    
,europe1 in proportion  to the increase 
of specie4    #bf4 ,to comprehend how   
the treasures of ,america passed from   
the  possession of the ,spaniards into  
that of other nations1 it will be       
sufficient to consider these two things3
 ,the use which ,charles ,v4 and        
,philip ,,ii4 made of their money2 and  
the manner in which other nations       
acquired a share in the mines of ,peru4 
#cg4 ,the emperor ,charles ,v4 who was  
always travelling1 and always at war1   
necessarily dispersed a great quantity  
of that specie which he received  from  
,mexico and ,peru1 through ,germany and 
,italy4 ,when he sent his son  ,philip  
over to ,england1 to marry queen ,mary1 
and take upon bun the title  of king of 
,england1 that prince deposited in the  
tower of ,london1  twenty-seven large   
chests of silver1 in bars1 and an       
hundred  horse-loads of gold and silver 
coin4 ,the troubles in ,flanders1 and   
the  intrigues of the league in ,france1

 cost this ,philip1 according to his    
own confession1 above three thousand    
millions of livres of our money4    #bh4
 ,the manner in which the gold and      
silver of ,peru is distributed  amongst 
all the people of ,europe1 and from     
thence is sent to the  ,east-,indies1 is
 a surprising1 though well-known        
circumstance4 ,by a  strict law enacted 
by ,ferdinand and ,isabella1 and        
afterwards confirmed  by ,charles ,v4   
and all the kings of ,spain1 all other  
nations were not  only excluded the     
entrance into any of the ports in       
,spanish ,america1 but  likewise from   
having the least share1 directly or     
indirectly1 in the  trade of that part  
of the world4 ,one would have imagined1 
that this law  would have enabled the   
,spaniards to subdue all ,europe2 and   
yet ,spain  subsists only by the        
continual violation of this very law4   
,it can hardly  furnish exports for     
,america to the value of four millions2 
whereas the  rest of ,europe sometimes  

send over merchandize to the amount of  
near  fifty millions4    #bi4 ,this     
prodigious trade of the nations at      
enmity1 or at alliance with  ,spain1 is 
carried on by the ,spaniards themselves1
 who are always  faithful in their      
dealings with individuals1 and always   
cheating their  king4 ,the ,spaniards   
gave no security to foreign merchants   
for the  performance of their contracts2
 a mutual credit1 without which there   
never could have been any commerce1     
supplies the place of other             
obligations4    #cj4 ,the manner in     
which the ,spaniards for a long time    
consigned the gold  and silver to       
foreigners1 which was brought home by   
their galleons1 was  still more         
surprising4 ,the ,spaniard1 who at      
,cadiz is properly factor for  the      
foreigner1 delivered the bullion he     
received to the care of certain         
bravoes1 called ,meteors3 these1 armed  
with pistols at their belt1 and a  long 
sword1 carried the bullion in parcels1  

properly marked1 to the  ramparts1 and  
flung them over to other meteors1 who   
waited below1 and  carried them to the  
boats which were to receive them1 and   
these boats  carried them on board the  
ships in the road4 ,these meteors and   
the  factors1 together with the         
commissaries and the guards2 who never  
disturbed them1 had each a stated fee1  
and the foreign merchant was  never     
cheated4 ,the king1 who received a duty 
upon this money at the  arrival of the  
galleons1 was likewise a gainer2 so that
 properly  speaking1 the law only was   
cheated2 a law which would be absolutely
  useless if not eluded1 and which1     
nevertheless1 cannot yet be abrogated1  
because old prejudices are always the   
most difficult to be overcome  amongst  
men4    #ca4 ,the greatest instance of  
the violation of this law1 and of the   
fidelity of the ,spaniards1 was in the  
year #afhd1 when war was declared       
between ,france and ,spain4 ,his        
,catholic majesty endeavoured to seize  

upon  the effects of all the ,french in 
his kingdom2 but he in vain issued      
edicts and admonitions1 enquiries and   
excommunications1 not a single  ,spanish
 factor would betray his ,french        
correspondent4 ,this fidelity1  which   
does so much honour to the ,spanish     
nation1 plainly shews1 that men  only   
willingly obey those laws which they    
themselves have made for this  good of  
society1 and that those which are the   
mere effects of a  sovereign's will1    
always meet with opposition4    #cb4 ,as
 the discovery of ,america was at first 
the source of much good to  the         
,spaniards1 it afterwards occasioned    
them many and considerable  evils4 ,one 
has been1 the depriving that kingdom of 
its subjects1 by the  great numbers     
necessarily required to people the      
colonies3 another was1  the infecting   
the world with a disease1 which was     
before unknown only in  the new world   
and particularly in the island of       
,hispaniola4 ,several of  the companions

 of ,christopher ,columbus returned home
 infected with this  contagion1 which   
afterwards spread over ,europe4 ,it is  
certain that this  poison1 which taints 
the springs of life1 was peculiar to    
,america1 as  the plague and small-pox1 
were diseases originally endemial to the
  southern parts of ,numidia4    #cc4   
,we are not to believe1 that the eating 
of human flesh1 practised by  some of   
the ,american savages1 occasions this   
disorder4 ,there were no  cannibals on  
the island of ,hispaniola1 where it was 
most frequent and  inveterate2 neither  
are we to suppose1 with some1 that it   
proceeded from  too great an excess of  
sensual pleasures4 ,nature had never    
punished  excesses of this kind with    
such disorders in the world2 and even to
 this  day1 we find that a momentary    
indulgence1 which has been passed for   
eight or ten years1 may bring this cruel
 and shameful scourge upon the  chastest
 union4    #cd4 ,the great ,columbus1   
after having built several houses on    

these  islands1 and discovered the      
continent1 returned to ,spain1 where he 
enjoyed a reputation unsullied by rapine
 or cruelty1 and died at  ,validolid in 
#aejf4 ,but the ,governors of ,cuba and 
,hispaniola1 who  succeeded him1 being  
persuaded that these provinces furnished
 gold1  resolved to make the discovery  
at the price of the lives of the        
inhabitants4 ,in short1 whether they    
thought the natives had conceived an    
implacable hatred to them1 or that they 
were apprehensive of their  superior    
numbers2 or that the rage of slaughter  
when once begun1 knows  no bounds1 they 
in the space of a few years entirely    
depopulated  ,hispaniola and ,cuba1 the 
former of which contained three millions
 of  inhabitants1 and the latter above  
six hundred thousand4    #ce4           
,bartholomew de la ,cases1 bishop of    
,chiapa1 who was an eye-witness to      
these desolations1 relates that they    
hunted down the natives with dogs4      
,these wretched savages1 almost naked   

and without arms1 were pursued like     
wild beasts in the forest1 devoured     
alive by dogs1 shot to death1 or        
surprised and burnt in their            
habitations4    #cf4 ,he further        
declares1 from occular testimony1 that  
they frequently  caused a number of     
these miserable wretches to be summoned 
by a priest  to come in1 and submit to  
the ,christian religion1 and to the king
 of  ,spain2 and that after this        
ceremony1 which was only an additional  
act of  injustice1 they put them to     
death without the least remorse4--,i    
believe  that ,de la ,cases has         
exaggerated in many parts of his        
relation2 but1  allowing him to have    
said ten times more than is truth1 there
 remains  enough to make us shudder with
 horror4    #cg4 ,it may seem           
surprizing1 that this massacre of a     
whole race of men1  could have been     
carried on in the sight1 and under the  
administration of  several religieuse of
 the order of ,st4 ,jerome2 for we know 

that cardinal  ,ximenes1 who was prime  
minister at ,castile before the time of 
,charles ,v4  sent over four monks of   
this order1 in quality of presidents of 
the  royal council of the island4       
,doubtless they were not able to resist 
the  torrent1 and the hatred of the     
natives to their new masters being with 
just reason become implacable1 rendered 
their destruction unhappily  necessary4 
,romulus the founder of ,rome1 after    
building the city1 resolved to  submit  
the form of its government to the choice
 of the people2 and  therefore1 calling 
the citizens together1 he harangued them
 thus3    ,if all the strength of cities
 lay in the height of their ramparts1 or
  the depth of their ditches1 we should 
have great reason to be in fear  for    
that which we have now built4 ,are there
 in reality any walls too  high to be   
scaled by a valiant enemy8 ,and of what 
use are ramparts in  intestine          
divisions8 ,they may serve for a defence
 against sudden  incursions from abroad2

 but it is by courage and prudence      
chiefly1 that  the invasions of foreign 
enemies are repelled2 and by unanimity1 
sobriety1 and justice1 that domestic    
seditions are prevented4 ,cities        
fortified by the strongest bulwarks1    
have been often seen to yield to  force 
from without1 or to tumults from within4
 ,an exact military  discipline1 and a  
steady observance of civil polity1 are  
the surest  barriers against these      
evils4 ,but there is still another point
 of great  importance to be considered4 
,the prosperity of some rising colonies1
 and  the speedy ruin of others1 have in
 a great measure been owing to the  form
 of government4 ,was there but one      
manner of ruling states and cities  that
 could make you happy1 the choice would 
not be difficult2 but ,i have  learnt1  
that of the various forms of government 
among the ,greeks and  ,barbarians1     
there are three which are highly        
extolled by those who have  experienced 
them2 and yet1 that no one in those is  

in all respects  perfect2 but each of   
them has some innate and incurable      
defect4 ,chuse  you then in what manner 
this city shall be governed4 ,shall it  
be by one  man8 ,shall it be by a select
 number of the wisest among us8 or shall
 the  legislative power be in the       
people8 ,as for me1 ,i shall submit to  
whatever form of administration you     
shall please to establish4 ,as ,i  think
 myself not unworthy to command1 so     
neither am ,i unwilling to obey4  ,your 
having chosen me to be the leader of    
this colony1 and your calling  the city 
after my name1 are honours sufficient to
 content me2 honours of  which1 ,i or   
dead1 ,i can never be deprived4         
,while ,quinctius ,capitolinus and      
,agrippa ,furius were ,consuls at       
,rome1 the differences betwixt the      
,senate and people ran so high1 that    
the qui and ,volsci1 taking advantage of
 their intestine disorders  ravaged the 
country to the very gates of ,rome1 and 
the ,tribunes of the  people forbad the 

necessary levies of troops to oppose    
them4 ,quinctius1  a ,senator1 of great 
reputation1 well beloved1 and now in his
 fourth  consulate1 got the better of   
this opposition1 by the following       
speech4    ,though ,i am not conscious1 
,o ,romans1 of any crime by me          
committed1 it is  yet with the utmost   
shame and confusion that ,i appear in   
your assembly4  ,you have seen          
it--posterity will know it4 ,in the     
fourth consulship of  ,titus ,quinctius1
 the qui and ,volsci1 7scarce a match   
for the ,hernici  alone7 came in arms to
 the very gates of ,rome1 and went away 
unchastised6 ,the course of our manners1
 indeed1 and the state of our  affairs1 
have long been such1 that ,i had no     
reason to presage much good3  ,but could
 ,i have imagined that so great an      
ignominy would have befallen  me this   
year1 ,i would by death2 or banishment  
7if all other means had  failed7 have   
avoided the station ,i am now in4 ,what6
 might ,rome then have  been taken1 if  

those men who were at our gates had not 
wanted courage  for the attempt6--,rome 
taken while ,i was consul--,of honours  
,i had  sufficient1--of life            
enough--more than enough4--,i should    
have died in my  third consulate4 ,but  
who are they that our dastardly enemies 
thus  despise8 ,the consuls1 or you     
,romans8 ,if we are in the fault1 depose
 us1  or punish us yet more severely4   
,if you are to blame1 may neither ,god  
nor man punish your faults6 only may you
 repent4 ,no1 ,romans1 the  confidence  
of our enemies is not owing to their    
courage1 or to the  belief of your      
cowardice4 ,they have been too often    
vanquished1 not to  know both themselves
 and you4 ,discord1 discord is the ruin 
of this city4  ,the eternal disputes    
between the senate and the people1 are  
the sole  cause of our misfortunes4     
,while we set no bounds to our dominion1
 nor  you to your liberty3 ,while you   
patiently endure ,patrician magistrates1
  and we ,plebeian1 our enemies take    

heart1 grow elated and presumptuous4    
,in the name of the immortal gods1 what 
is it1 ,romans1 you would have8  ,you   
desired tribunes2 for the sake of peace 
we granted them4 ,you were  eager to    
have decemvirs2 we consented to their   
creation4 ,you grew weary  of these     
decemvirs2 we obliged them to abdicate4 
,your hatred pursued  them when reduced 
to private men2 and we suffered you to  
put to death1  or banish1 ,patricians of
 the first rank in the republic4 ,you   
insisted  upon the restoration of the   
tribuneship2 we yielded2 we quietly saw 
consuls of your faction elected4 ,you   
have the protection of your  tribunes1  
and the privilege of appeal3 the        
,patricians are subjected to  the       
decrees of the commons4 ,under pretence 
of equal and impartial laws1  you have  
invaded our rights1 and we have suffered
 it1 and we still  suffer it4 ,when     
shall we see an end of discord8 ,when   
shall we have one  interest and one     
common country8 ,victorious and         

triumphant1 you shew  less temper than  
we under defeat4 ,when you are to       
contend with us1 you  seize the         
,aventine hill1 you can possess         
yourselves of the ,mons ,sacer4    ,the 
enemy is at our gates1 the squiline is  
near being taken1 and nobody  stirs to  
hinder it4 ,but against us you are      
valiant1 against us you  can arm with   
diligence4 ,come on1 then1 besiege the  
senate house1 make a  camp of the forum1
 fill the jails with our nobles1 and    
when you have  achieved these glorious  
exploits1 then at last sally out at the 
squiline gate1 with the same fierce     
spirits against the enemy4 ,does  your  
resolution fail you for this8 ,go1 then1
 and behold from your walls1  your lands
 ravaged1 your houses plundered and in  
flames1 the whole  country laid waste   
with fire and sword4 ,have you any thing
 here to  repair these damages8 ,will   
the tribunes make up your losses to you8
  ,they'll give you as many words as you
 please3 ,bring impeachments in         

abundance against the prime men of the  
state3 ,heap laws upon laws2  assemblies
 you shall have without end4 ,but will  
any of you return the  richer from these
 assemblies8 ,extinguish1 ,o ,romans1   
those fatal  divisions2 generously break
 this cursed enchantment1 which keeps   
you  buried in a scandalous inaction4   
,open your eyes1 and consider the       
management of these ambitious men1 who1 
to make themselves powerful in  their   
party1 study nothing but how they may   
foment divisions in the  commonwealth4  
,if you can but summon up your former   
courage2 if you will now march out  of  
,rome with your consuls1 there is no    
punishment you can inflict1 which  ,i   
will not submit to1 if ,i do not in a   
few days drive these pillagers  out of  
our territory4 ,this terror of war 7with
 which you seem so  grievously struck7  
shall quickly be removed from ,rome to  
their own  cities4          ,,caius     
,,marius to the ,,romans4    ,it is but 
too common1 my countrymen1 to observe a 

material difference  between the        
behaviour of those who stand candidates1
 for places of power  and trust1 before 
and after their obtaining them4 ,they   
solicit them in  one manner1 and execute
 them in another4 ,they set out with a  
great  appearance of activity1 humility1
 and moderation2 and they quickly fall  
into sloth1 pride1 and avarice4--,it is 
undoubtedly1 no easy matter to          
discharge1 to the general satisfaction1 
the duty of a supreme commander  in     
troublesome times4 ,i am1 ,i hope1 duly 
sensible of the importance of  the      
office ,i propose to take upon me1 for  
the service of my country4 ,to  carry   
on1 with effect1 an expensive war1 and  
yet be frugal of the public  money2 to  
oblige those to serve1 whom it may be   
delicate to offend2 to  conduct1 at the 
same time1 a complicated variety of     
operations2 to  concert measures at     
home1 answerable to the state of things 
abroad2 and  to gain every valuable end1
 in spite of opposition from the        

envious1 the  factious1 and the         
disaffected2 to do all this1 my         
countrymen1 is more  difficult than is  
generally thought4    ,but1 besides the 
disadvantages which are common to me1   
with all others  in eminent stations1 my
 case is1 in this respect1 peculiarly   
hard2 that  whereas a commander of      
,patrician rank1 if he is guilty of a   
neglect1 or  breach of duty1 has his    
great connection1 the antiquity of his  
family1  the important services of his  
ancestors1 and the multitudes he has1 by
  power1 engaged in his interest1 to    
screen him from condign punishment2  my 
whole safety depends upon myself2 which 
renders it the more  indispensibly      
necessary for me1 to take care that my  
conduct be clear  and unexceptionable4  
,besides1 ,i am well aware1 my country  
men1 that the  eye of the public is upon
 me2 and that1 though the impartial1 who
 prefer  the real advantage of the      
commonwealth to all other               
considerations1  favour my pretensions1 

the ,patricians want nothing so much as 
an  occasion against me4 ,it is1        
therefore1 my fixed resolution1 to use  
my  best endeavours1 that you may not be
 disappointed in me1 and that their     
indirect designs against me may be      
defeated4    ,i have1 from my youth1    
been familiar with toils1 and with      
dangers4 ,i was  faithful to your       
interests1 my countrymen1 when ,i served
 you for no  reward1 but that of honour4
 ,it is not my design to betray you1 now
 that  you have conferred upon me a     
place of profit4 ,you have committed to 
my  conduct1 the war against ,jugurtha4 
,the ,patricians are offended at this4  
,but1 where would be the wisdom of      
giving such a command to one of their   
honourable body8 a person of illustrious
 birth1 of ancient family1 of           
innumerable statues1 but--of no         
experience6 ,what service would his long
  line of dead ancestors1 or his        
multitude of motionless statues1 do his 
country in the day of battle8 ,what     

could such a general do1 but1 in his    
trepidation and inexperience1 have      
recourse to some inferior commander1    
for direction in difficulties to which  
he was not himself equal8 ,thus1  your  
,patrician general would1 in fact have a
 general over him2 so that  the acting  
commander would still be a ,plebeian4   
,so true is this1 my  countrymen1 that  
,i have myself known those1 who have    
been chosen  consuls1 begin then to read
 the history of their own country1 of   
which1  till that time1 they were       
totally ignorant3 that is1 they first   
obtained  the employment1 and then      
bethought themselves of the             
qualifications  necessary for the proper
 discharge of it4    ,i submit to your  
judgment1 ,romans1 on which side the    
advantage lies1  when a comparison is   
made between ,patrician haughtiness and 
,plebeian  experience4 ,the very        
actions1 which they have only read1 ,i  
have partly  seen1 and partly myself    
achieved4 ,what they know by reading1 ,i

 know by  action4 ,they are pleased to  
slight my mean birth4 ,i despise their  
mean  characters4 ,want of birth and    
fortune is the objection against me3    
want  of personal merit against them4   
,but are not all men of the same        
species8  ,what can make a difference   
between one man and another but the     
endowments of the mind8 ,for my part1 ,i
 shall always look upon the  bravest man
 as the noblest man4 ,suppose it were   
enquired of the fathers  of such        
,patricians as ,albinus and ,bessia1    
whether1 if they had their  choice1 they
 would desire sons of their character1  
or of mine3 what  would they answer1 but
 that they should wish the worthiest to 
be their  sons4 ,if the ,patricians have
 reason to despise me1 let them likewise
  despise their ancestors1 whose        
nobility was the fruit of their virtue4 
,do they envy the honours bestowed upon 
me8 let them envy1 likewise1 my         
labours1 my abstinence1 and the dangers 
,i have undergone for my country1  by   

which ,i have acquired them4 ,but those 
worthless men lend such a life  of      
inactivity1 as if they despised any     
honours you can bestow2 whilst  they    
aspire to honours1 as if they had       
deserved them by the most  industrious  
virtue4 ,they lay claim to the rewards  
of activity1 for their  having enjoyed  
the pleasures of luxury4 ,yet none can  
be more lavish than  they are in praise 
of their ancestors3 and they imagine    
they honour  themselves by celebrating  
their forefathers4 ,whereas1 they do the
 very  contrary3 for1 as much as their  
ancestors were distinguished for their  
virtues1 so much are they disgraced by  
their vices4    ,observe now1 my        
countrymen1 the injustice of the        
,patricians4 ,they  arrogate to         
themselves honours1 on account of the   
exploits done by their  forefathers2    
whilst they will not allow me the due   
praise1 for  performing the very same   
sort of actions in my own person4 ,he   
has no  statues1 they cry1 of his       

family4 ,he can trace no venerable line 
of  ancestors4 ,what then6 ,is it matter
 of more praise to disgrace one's       
illustrious ancestors1 than to become   
illustrious by one's own good           
behaviour8 ,what if ,i can shew no      
statues of my family3 ,i can shew the   
standards1 the armour1 and the          
trappings1 which ,i have taken myself   
from  the vanquished3 ,i can shew the   
scars of those wounds which ,i have     
received by facing the enemies of my    
country4 ,these are my statues2  these  
are the honours ,i boast of4 ,not left  
me by inheritance as theirs2  but earned
 by toil1 by abstinence1 by valour2     
amidst clouds of dust1 and  seas of     
blood3 scenes of action1 where those    
effeminate ,patricians1 who  endeavour1 
by indirect means1 to depreciate me in  
your esteem1 have  never dared to shew  
their faces4          ,,demosthenes to  
the ,,athenians4    ,when ,i compare1   
,athenians1 the speeches of some amongst
 us1 with their  actions1 ,i am at a    

loss to reconcile what ,i see1 with what
 ,i hear4 ,their  protestations are full
 of zeal against the public enemy2 but  
their  measures are so inconsistent that
 all their professions become           
suspected4 ,by confounding you with a   
variety of projects1 they perplex  your 
resolutions1 and lead you from executing
 what is in your power1 by  engaging you
 in schemes not reducible to practice4  
',tis true1 there was a time1 when we   
were powerful enough1 not only to       
defend our own borders1 and protect our 
allies1 but even to invade  ,philip in  
his own dominions4 ,yes1 ,athenians1    
there was such a juncture2  ,i remember 
it well4 ,but1 by neglect of proper     
opportunities1 we are no  longer in a   
situation to be invaders3 it will be    
well for us1 if we can  procure for our 
own defence1 and our allies4 ,never did 
any conjuncture  require so much        
prudence as this4 ,however1 ,i should   
not despair of  seasonable remedies1 had
 ,i the art to prevail with you to be   

unanimous  in right measures4 ,the      
opportunities1 which have so often      
escaped us  have not been lost2 through 
ignorance1 or want of judgment2 but     
through  negligence or treachery4--,if  
,i assume1 at this time1 more than      
ordinary  liberty of speech1 ,i conjure 
you to suffer1 patiently1 those truths1 
which have no other end1 but your own   
good4 ,you have too many reasons to  be 
sensible how much you have suffered1 by 
hearkening to sycophants4 ,i  shall1    
therefore1 be plain1 in laying before   
you the grounds of past  miscarriages1  
in order to correct you in your future  
conducts4    ,you may remember1 it is   
not above three or four years since we  
had the  news of ,philip's laying siege 
to the fortress of ,juno1 in ,thrace4   
,it  was1 as ,i think1 in ,october we   
received this intelligence4 ,we voted an
  immediate supply of threescore        
talents2 forty men of war were ordered  
to  sea3 and so zealous we were1 that   
preferring the necessities of state to  

our very laws1 our citizens above the   
age of five and forty years1 were       
commanded to serve4 ,what followed8--,a 
whole year was spent idly1 without  any 
thing done2 and it was but the third    
month of the following year1 a  little  
after the celebration of the feast of   
,ceres1 that ,charedemus set  sail1     
furnished with no more than five        
talents1 and ten galleys1 not  half     
manned4    ,a rumour was spread that    
,philip was sick4 ,that rumour was      
followed by  another1 that ,philip was  
dead4 ,and1 then1 as if all danger died 
with  him1 you dropped your             
preparations3 whereas then1 then was    
your time to  push1 and be active2 then 
was your time to secure yourselves1 and 
confound him at once4 ,had your         
resolutions1 taken with so much heat1   
been as warmly seconded by action1 you  
had then been as terrible to  ,philip1  
as ,philip1 recovered1 is now to you4   
,to what purpose1 at this  time1 these  
reflections6 ,what is done cannot be    

undone4 ,but1 by your  leave1           
,athenians2 though past moments are not 
to be recalled1 past  errors may be     
repeated4 ,have we not now1 a fresh     
provocation to war8 ,let  the memory of 
oversights1 by which you have suffered  
so much1 instruct  you to be more       
vigilant in the present danger4 ,if the 
,olynthians are not  instantly          
succoured1 and with your utmost efforts1
 you become assistants  to ,philip1 and 
serve him more effectually than he can  
help himself4    ,it is not1 surely1    
necessary to warn you1 that votes alone 
can be of no  consequence4 ,had your    
resolutions1 of themselves1 the virtue  
to compass  what you intend1 we should  
not see them multiply every day1 as they
 do1  and upon every occasion1 with so  
little effect3 nor would ,philip be in a
  condition to brave and affront us in  
this manner4--,proceed1 then1           
,athenians1 to support your             
deliberations with vigour4 ,you have    
heads  capable of advising what is best2

 you have judgment and experience1 to   
discern what is right2 and you have     
power and opportunity to execute  what  
you determine4 ,what time so proper for 
action6 ,what occasion so  happy8 ,and  
when can you hope for such another1 if  
this be neglected8 ,has  not ,philip1   
contrary to all treaties1 insulted you  
in ,thrace8 ,does he  not1 at this      
instant1 straiten and invade your       
confederates1 whom you  have solemnly   
sworn to protect8 ,is he not an         
implacable enemy8 a  faithless ally8 the
 usurper of provinces1 to which he has  
no title nor  pretence8 a stranger1 a   
barbarian1 a tyrant8 and indeed1 what is
 he not8    ,observe1 ,i beseech you1   
men of ,athens1 how different your      
conduct  appears from the practices of  
your ancestors4 ,they were friends to   
truth  and plain dealing1 and detested  
flattery and servile compliance4 ,by    
unanimous consent they continued        
arbiters of all ,greece for the space   
of forty-five years1 without            

interruption2 a public fund1 of no less 
than ten thousand talents1 were ready   
for any emergency3 they exercised  over 
the kings of ,macedon that authority    
which is due to ,barbarians2  obtained1 
both by sea and land1 in their own      
persons frequent and signal  victories  
and by their noble exploits1 transmitted
 to posterity an  immortal memory of    
their virtue1 superior to the reach of  
malice and  detraction4 ,it is to them  
we owe that great number of public      
edifices1  by which the city of ,athens 
exceeds all the rest of the world1 in   
beauty  and magnificence4 ,it is to them
 we owe so many stately temples1 so     
richly embellished2 but1 above all1     
adorned with the spoils of  vanquished  
enemies--,but1 visit their own private  
habitations2 visit the  houses of       
,aristides1 ,militiades1 or any other of
 those patriots of  antiquity2 you will 
find nothing1 not the least mark of     
ornament1 to  distinguish them from     
their neighbours4 ,they took part in the

  government1 not to enrich themselves1 
but the public2 they had no  schemes or 
ambition1 but for the public nor knew   
any interest1 but the  public4 ,it was  
by a close and steady application to the
 general good of  their country2 by an  
exemplary piety toward the immortal     
gods2 by a  strict faith1 and religious 
honesty1 betwixt man and man2 and a     
moderation1 always uniform1 and of      
apiece2 they established that           
reputation1 which remains to this day1  
and will last to utmost  posterity4     
,such1 ,o men of ,athens6 were your     
ancestors2 so glorious in the eye of    
the world2 so bountiful and munificent  
to their country2 so sparing1 so        
modest1 so self-denying to themselves4  
,what resemblance can we find in  the   
present generation1 of these great men8 
,at a time1 when your ancient           
competitors have left you a clear stage2
 when the ,lacedemonians are  disabled2 
the ,thebans employed in troubles of    
their own2 when no other  state whatever

 is in a condition to rival or molest   
you3 in short1 when  you are at full    
liberty2 when you have the opportunity  
and the power to  become once more the  
sole arbiters of ,greece2 you permit1   
patiently1  whole provinces to be       
arrested from you2 you lavish the public
 money to  scandalous and obscure uses2 
you suffer your allies to perish in time
 of  peace1 whom you preserved in time  
of war2 and1 to sum up all1 you         
yourselves1 by your mercenary court1 and
 servile resignation to the will  and   
pleasure of designing1 insidious        
leaders1 abet1 encourage1 and           
strengthen the most dangerous and       
formidable of your enemies4 ,yes1       
,athenians1 ,i repeat it1 you yourselves
 are the contrivers of your own  ruin4  
,lives there a man who has confidence   
enough to deny it8 let him  arise1 and  
assign1 if he can1 any other cause of   
the success and  prosperity of ,philip4 
,but1 you reply1 what ,athens may have  
lost in  reputation abroad1 she has     

gained in splendor at home4 ,was there  
ever a  greater appearance of           
prosperity6 a greater face of plenty8   
,is not the  city enlarged8 ,are not the
 streets better paved8 houses repaired  
and  beautified8--,away with such       
trifles6 ,shall ,i be paid with         
counters8 ,an  old square new vamped up6
 a fountain6 an aqueduct6 ,are these    
acquisitions to brag of8 ,cast your eye 
upon the magistrate1 under whose        
ministry you boast these precious       
improvements4 ,behold the despicable    
creature1 raised1 all at once1 from dirt
 to opulence2 from the lowest  obscurity
 to the highest honours4 ,have not some 
of these upstarts built  private houses 
and seats1 vying with the most sumptuous
 of our public  palaces8 ,and how have  
their fortunes and their power          
increased1 but as  the commonwealth has 
been ruined and impoverished6    ,to    
what are we to impute these disorders8  
and to what cause assign the  decay of a
 state1 so powerful and flourishing in  

past time8--,the reason  is plain4 ,the 
servant is now become the master4 ,the  
magistrate was then  subservient to the 
people3 punishments and rewards were    
properties of  the people3 all honours1 
dignities1 and preferments were disposed
 by the  voice and favour of the people4
 ,but the magistrate1 now1 has usurped  
the  right of the people1 and exercises 
an arbitrary authority over his  ancient
 and natural lord4 ,you miserable       
people6 the mean while1 without  money1 
without friends2 from being the ruler1  
are become the servant2  from being the 
master1 the dependant3 happy that these 
governors1 into  whose hands you have   
thus resigned your own power1 are so    
good1 and so  gracious1 as to continue  
your poor allowance to see plays4       
,believe me1 ,athenians1 if recovering  
from this lethargy1 you would  assume   
the ancient freedom and spirit of your  
fathers2 if you would be  your own      
soldiers1 and your own commanders1      
confiding no longer your  affairs in    

foreign or mercenary hands2 if you would
 charge yourselves  with your own       
defence1 employing abroad1 for the      
public1 what you waste  in unprofitable 
pleasures at home1 the world might1 once
 more1 behold  you making a figure      
worthy of ,athenians4 ,you would have us
 then 7you  say7 do service in our      
armies1 in our own persons2 and for so  
doing1 you  would have the pensions we  
receive in time of peace1 accepted as   
pay in  time of war4 ,is it thus we are 
to understand you8--,yes1 ,athenians1   
'tis  my plain meaning4 ,i would make it
 a standing rule1 that no person1 great 
or little1 should be the better for the 
public money1 who should grudge  to     
employ it for the public service4 ,are  
we in peace8 the public is  charged with
 your subsistence4 ,are we in war1 or   
under a necessity1 as  at this time1 to 
enter into a war8 let your gratitude    
oblige you to  accept1 as pay1 in       
defence of your benefactors1 what you   
receive1 in  peace1 as mere             

bounty4--,thus1 without any innovation1 
without altering  or abolishing any     
thing1 but pernicious novelties1        
introduced for the  encouragement of    
sloth and idleness2 by converting only  
for the future  the same funds for the  
use of the serviceable1 which are spent1
 at  present1 upon the unprofitable2 you
 may be well served in your armies2     
your troops regularly paid2 justice duly
 administered2 the public  revenues     
reformed and increased2 and every member
 of the commonwealth  rendered useful to
 his country1 according to his age and  
ability1  without any further burden to 
the state4    ,this1 ,o men of ,athens6 
is what my duty prompted me to represent
 to you  upon this occasion4--,may the  
gods inspire you to determine upon such 
measures as may be most expedient for   
the particular and general good of  our 
country6          ,,the ,,perfect       
,,speaker4      ,imagine to yourselves a
 ,demosthenes addressing the most       
illustrious  assembly in the world1 upon

 a point whereon the fate of the most   
illustrious of nations depended4--,how  
awful such a meeting6 ,how vast the     
subject6 ,is man possessed of talents   
adequate to the great occasion8         
,adequate--yes1 superior4 ,by the power 
of his eloquence2 the augustness  of the
 assembly is lost in the dignity of the 
orator2 and the importance  of the      
subject for a while superceded by the   
admiration of his talents4  ,with what  
strength of argument1 with what powers  
of the fancy1 with what  emotions of the
 heart1 does he assault and subjugate   
the whole man1 and1  at once1 captivate 
his reason1 his imagination1 and his    
passions6--,to  effect this1 must be the
 utmost effort of the most improved     
state of  human nature4 ,not a faculty  
that he possesses1 is here unemployed3  
not a  faculty that he possesses1 but is
 here exerted to its highest pitch4 ,all
  his internal powers are at work3 all  
his external testify their  energies4   
,within1 the memory1 the fancy1 the     

judgment1 the passions are  all busy3   
without1 every muscle1 every nerve is   
exerted2 not a feature1  not a limb1 but
 speaks4 ,the organs of the body attuned
 to the exertions  of the mind1 through 
the kindred organs of the hearers1      
instantaneously1  and1 as it were1 with 
an electrical spirit1 vibrate those     
energies from  soul to soul4            
,notwithstanding the diversity of minds 
in such a  multitude1 by the lightning  
of eloquence1 they are melted into one  
mass--the whole assembly actuated in one
 and the same way1 become1 as it  were1 
but one man1 and have but one voice4    
,the universal cry is--,,let ,,us       
,,march ,,against ,,philip--,,let ,,us  
,,fight ,,for ,,our ,,liberties--,,let  
,,us ,,conquer--,,or  ,,die6            
,on the duties of ,school-,boys1 from   
the pious and judicious    ,,rollin4    
,quintillian says1 that he has included 
almost all the duty of scholars  in this
 one piece of advice which he gives     
them1 to love those who teach  them1 as 

they love the science which they learn  
of them2 and to look  upon them as      
fathers1 from whom they derive not the  
life of the body1  but that instruction 
which is in a manner the life of the    
soul4 ,indeed  this sentiment of        
affection1 and respect suffices to make 
them apt to  learn during the time of   
their studies1 and full of gratitude all
 the  rest of their lives4 ,it seems to 
me to include a great part of what is   
to be expected from them4    ,docility1 
which consists in submitting to         
directions1 in readily  receiving the   
instructions of their masters2 and      
reducing them to  practice1 is properly 
the virtue of scholars1 as that of      
masters is to  teach well4 ,the one can 
do nothing without the other2 and as it 
is not  sufficient for a labourer to sow
 the seed1 unless the earth1 after      
having opened its bosom to receive it1  
in a manner hatches1 warms1 and         
moistens it2 so likewise the whole fruit
 of instruction depends upon a  good    

correspondence between the masters and  
the scholars4    ,gratitude for those   
who have laboured in our education1 is  
the character  of an honest man1 and the
 mark of a good heart4 ,who is there    
among us1  says ,cicero1 that has been  
instructed with any care1 that is not   
highly  delighted with the sight1 or    
even the bare remembrance of his        
preceptors1 masters1 and the place where
 he was taught and brought up8  ,seneca 
exhorts young men to preserve always a  
great respect for their  masters1 to    
whose care they are indebted for the    
amendment of their  faults1 and for     
having imbibed sentiments of honour and 
probity4 ,their  exactness and severity 
displease sometimes1 at an age when we  
are not in  a condition to judge of the 
obligations we owe to them2 but when    
years  have ripened our understanding   
and judgment1 we then discern that what 
made us dislike them1 ,i mean           
admonitions1 reprimands1 and a severe   
exactness in restraining the passions of

 an imprudent and inconsiderate  age1 is
 expressly the very thing which should  
make us esteem and love  them4 ,thus we 
see that ,marcus ,aurelius1 one of the  
wisest and most  illustrious emperors   
that ,rome ever had1 thanked the gods   
for two things  especially--for his     
having had excellent tutors himself1 and
 that he had  found the like for his    
children4    ,quintillian1 after having 
noted the different characters of the   
mind in  children1 draws1 in a few      
words1 the image of what he judged to be
 a  perfect scholar2 and certainly it is
 a very amiable one3 ,for my part1  says
 he1 ,i like a child who is encouraged  
by commendation1 is animated  by a sense
 of glory1 and weeps when he is outdone4
 ,a noble emulation  will always keep   
him in exercise1 a reprimand will touch 
him to the  quick1 and honour will serve
 instead of a spur4 ,we need not fear   
that  such a scholar will ever give     
himself up to sullenness4 ,mihi ille    
detur puer1 quem laus excitet1 quem     

gloria juvet1 qui virtus fleut4 ,hic    
erit alendus ambitu3 hunc mordebit      
objurgetio2 hunc honor excitabit2 in    
hoc desidium nunquam verebor4    ,how   
great a value soever ,quintillian sets  
upon the talents of the mind1  he       
esteems those of the heart far beyond   
them1 and looks upon the others  as of  
no value without them4 ,in the same     
chapter from whence ,i took the         
preceding words1 he declares1 he should 
never have a good opinion of a  child1  
who placed his study in occasioning     
laughter1 by mimicking the  behaviour1  
mien1 and faults of others2 and he      
presently gives an  admirable reason for
 it3 ,a child1 says he1 cannot be truly 
ingenuous1  in my opinion1 unless he be 
good and virtuous2 otherwise1 ,i should 
rather choose to have him dull and      
heavy1 than of a bad disposition4  ,non 
dubit spem bonoe indolis1 qui hoc       
initandi studio petit1 ut  rideatur4    
,nam probus quoque imprimus erit ille   
vere ingeniosus3  alioquinon pejus      

duxerim tardi esse ingenii1 quam mali4  
,he displays to us all these talents in 
the eldest of his two children1  whose  
character he draws1 and whose death he  
laments in so eloquent and  pathetic a  
strain1 in the beautiful preface to his 
sixth book4 ,i shall  beg leave to      
insert here a small extract of it1 which
 will not be  useless to the boys1 as   
they will find it a model which suits   
well with  their age and condition4     
,alter having mentioned his younger son1
 who died at five years old1 and        
described the graces and beauties of his
 countenance1 the prettiness of  his    
expression1 the vivacity of his         
understanding1 which began to shine     
through the veil of childhood3 ,i had   
still left me1 says he1 my son          
,quintillian1 in whom ,i placed all my  
pleasure and all my hopes1 and  comfort 
enough ,i might have found in him2 for1 
having now entered into  his tenth year1
 he did not produce only blossoms like  
his younger  brother1 but fruits already

 formed1 and beyond the power of        
disappointment4--,i have much           
experience2 but ,i never saw in any     
child1 ,i  do not say only so many      
excellent dispositions for the sciences1
 nor so  much taste1 as his masters     
know1 but so much probity1 sweetness1   
good  nature1 gentleness1 and           
inclination to please and oblige1 as ,i 
discerned  in him4    ,besides this1 he 
had all the advantages of nature1 a     
charming voice1 a  pleasing countenance1
 and a surprising facility in           
pronouncing well the  two languages1 as 
if he had been equally born for both of 
them4    ,but all this was no more than 
hopes4 ,i set a greater value upon his  
admirable virtues1 his equality of      
temper1 his resolution1 the courage     
with which he bore up against fear and  
pain2 for1 how were his  physicians     
astonished at his patience under a      
distemper of eight months  continuance1 
when at the point of death he comforted 
me himself1 and  bade me not to weep for

 him6 and delirious as he sometimes was 
at his  last moments1 his tongue ran on 
nothing else but learning and the       
sciences3 ,o vain and deceitful hopes6  
c4    ,are there many boys amongst us1  
of whom we can truly say so much to     
their advantage1 as ,quintillian says   
here of his son8 ,what a shame would  it
 be for them1 if born and brought up in 
a ,christian country1 they had  not even
 the virtues of ,pagan children6 ,i make
 no scruple to repeat them  here        
again--docility1 obedience1 respect for 
their masters1 or rather a  degree of   
affection1 and the source of an eternal 
gratitude2 zeal for  study1 and a       
wonderful thirst after the sciences1    
joined to an  abhorrence of vice and    
irregularity2 an admirable fund of      
probity1  goodness1 gentleness1         
civility1 and liberality2 as also       
patience1  courage1 and greatness of    
soul in the course of a long            
sickness4--,what  then was wanting to   
all these virtues8--,that which alone   

could render  them truly worthy the     
name1 and must be in a manner the soul  
of them1  and constitute their whole    
value1 the precious gift of faith and   
piety2  the saving knowledge of a       
,mediator2 a sincere desire of pleasing 
,god1  and referring all our actions to 
him4          ,,columbia4    ,,by ,,the 
,,reverend ,,dr4 ,,dwight4              
,columbia1 ,columbia1 to glory arise1   
,the queen of the world1 and child of   
the skies6      ,thy genius commands    
thee2 with rapture behold1      ,while  
ages on ages thy splendors unfold4      
,thy reign is the last1 and the noblest 
of time1      ,most fruitful thy soil1  
most inviting thy clime2      ,let the  
crimes of the east ne'er encrimson thy  
name1      ,be ,freedom1 and ,science1  
and ,virtue1 thy fame4        ,to       
conquest1 and slaughter1 let ,europe    
aspire2      ,whelm nations in blood1   
and wrap cities in fire2      ,thy      
heroes the rights of mankind shall      
defend1      ,and triumph pursue them1  

and glory attend4      ,a world is thy  
realm3 for a world be thy laws1         
,enlarg'd as thine empire1 and just as  
thy cause2      ,on ,freedom's broad    
basis1 that empire shall rise2          
,extend with the main and dissolve with 
the skies4        ,fair ,science her    
gates to thy sons shall unbar1      ,and
 the east see thy morn hide the beams of
 her star1      ,new bards1 and new     
sages1 unrival'd shall soar      ,to    
fame1 unextinguish'd1 when time is no   
more2      ,to thee1 the last refuge of 
virtue design'd1      ,shall fly from   
all nations1 the best of mankind2       
,here1 grateful to ,heaven1 with        
transports shall bring      ,their      
incense1 more fragrant than odours of   
spring4        ,nor less1 shall thy fair
 ones to glory ascend1      ,and ,genius
 and ,beauty in harmony blend2      ,the
 graces of form shall awake pure desire1
      ,and the charms of the soul ever  
cherish the fire2      ,their sweetness 
unmingled1 their manners refin'd1       

,and virtue's bright image1 instamp'd on
 the mind1      ,with peace1 and soft   
rapture1 shall teach life to glow1      
,and light up a smile in the aspect of  
woe4        ,thy fleets to all regions  
thy pow'r shall display1      ,the      
nations admire1 and the ocean obey2     
,each shore to thy glory its tribute    
unfold1      ,and the east and the south
 yield their spices and gold4      ,as  
the day-spring unbounded1 thy splendor  
shall flow1      ,and earth's little    
kingdoms before thee shall bow2         
,while the ensigns of union1 in triumph 
unfurl'd1      ,hush the tumult of war1 
and give peace to the world4            
,thus1 as down a lone valley1 with      
cedars o'erspread1      ,from war's     
dread confusion1 ,i pensively stray'd-- 
,the gloom from the face of fair heav'n 
retir'd2      ,the winds ceas'd to      
murmur2 the thunders expir'd2           
,perfumes1 as of ,eden1 flow'd sweetly  
along1      ,and a voice1 as of angels1 
enchantingly sung3      ,columbia1      

,columbia1 to glory arise1      ,the    
queen of the world1 and the child of the
 skies          ,,the ,,choice ,,of ,a  
,,rural ,,life4    ,a ,,poem1           
,written by ,w4,l4 ,esq4 ,gov4 of ,n4,j4
      ,,the ,,argument4    ,the subject 
proposed4 ,situation of the author's    
house4 ,his frugality in  his furniture4
 ,the beauties of the country4 ,his love
 of retirement1 and  choice of his      
friends4 ,a description of the morning4 
,hymn to the sun4  ,contemplation of the
 ,heavens4 ,the existence of ,god       
inferred from a view  of the beauty and 
harmony of the creation4 ,morning and   
evening devotion4  ,the vanity of riches
 and grandeur4 ,the choice of his books4
 ,praise of  the marriage state4 ,a knot
 of modern ladies described4 ,the       
author's  exit4      ,,philosophic      
,,solitude1 c4        ,let ardent heroes
 seek renown in arms1      ,pant after  
fame1 and rush to war's alarms2      ,to
 shining palaces let fools resort1      
,and dunces cringe to be esteem'd at    

court3      ,mine be the pleasure of a  
rural life1      ,from noise remote1 and
 ignorant of strife2      ,far from the 
painted belle1 and white-glov'd beau1   
,the lawless masquerade and midnight    
show2      ,from ladies1 lap-dogs1      
courtiers1 garters1 stars1      ,fops1  
fiddlers1 tyrants1 emperors1 and czars4 
,full in the centre of some shady grove1
      ,by nature form'd for solitude and
 love2      ,on banks array'd with      
ever-blooming flow'rs1      ,near       
beaut'ous landscapes1 or by roseate     
bow'rs1      ,my neat1 but simple       
mansion ,i would raise1      ,unlike the
 sumptuous domes of modern days2        
,devoid of pomp1 with rural plainness   
form'd1      ,with savage game1 and     
glossy shells adorn'd4        ,no costly
 furniture should grace my hall2        
,but curling vines ascend against the   
wall1      ,whose pliant branches shou'd
 luxuriant twine1      ,while purple    
clusters swell'd with future wine       
,to slake my thirst a liquid lapse      

distill1      ,from craggy rocks1 and   
spread a limpid rill4      ,along my    
mansion spiry firs should grow1         
,and gloomy yews extend the shady row2  
,the cedars flourish1 and the poplars   
rise      ,sublimely tall1 and shoot    
into the skies3      ,among the leaves  
refreshing zephyrs play1      ,and      
crouding trees exclude the noon-tide    
ray2      ,whereon the birds their downy
 nests should form1      ,securely      
shelter'd from the batt'ring storm2     
,and to melodious notes their choir     
apply1      ,soon as ,aurora blush'd    
along the sky3      ,while all around   
the enchanting music rings1      ,and   
every vocal grove reponsive sings4      
,me to sequester'd scenes1 ye muses     
guide1      ,where nature wanton's in   
her virgin pride1      ,to mossy banks1 
edg'd round with op'ning flow'rs1       
,elysian fields and amaranthian bow'rs2 
,t' ambrosial founts1 and               
sleep-inspiring rills1      ,to herbag'd
 vales1 gay lawns1 and funny hills4     

,welcome ye shades6 all hail1 ye vernal 
blooms      ,ye bow'ry thickets1 and    
prophetic glooms6      ,ye forests hail6
 ye solitary woods6                     
,love-whispering groves and             
silver-streaming floods6      ,ye meads1
 that aromatic sweets exhale6      ,ye  
birds1 and all ye sylvan beauties hail6 
,oh how ,i long with you to spend my    
days1      ,invoke the muse1 and try the
 rural lays6        ,no trumpets there  
with martial clangor found1      ,no    
prostrate heroes strew the crimson'd    
ground2      ,no groves of lances       
glitter in the air1      ,nor thund'ring
 drums provoke the sanguine war2        
but white-rob'd peace1 and universal    
love      ,smile in the field1 and      
brighten1 ev'ry grove1      ,there all  
the beauties of the circling year1      
,in native ornamental pride appear2     
,gay rosy-bosom'd ,,spring1 and ,april  
show'rs2      ,wake from the womb of    
earth the rising flow'rs3      ,in      
deeper verdure ,,summer clothes the     

plain1      ,and ,,autumn bends beneath 
the golden grain2      ,the trees weep  
amber1 and the whispering gales         
,breeze o'er the lawn1 or murmur through
 the vales3      ,the flow'ry tribes in 
gay confusion bloom1      ,profuse of   
sweets1 and fragrant with perfume2      
,on blossoms blossoms1 fruits on fruits 
arise4      ,and varied prospects glad  
the wand'ring eyes4      ,in these fair 
seats ,i'd pass the joyous day1         
,where meadows flourish and where fields
 look gay2      ,from bliss to bliss    
with endless pleasure rove1      ,seek  
crystal streams1 or haunt the vernal    
grove1      ,woods1 fountains1 lakes1   
the fertile fields1 or shades           
,aerial mountains1 or subjacent glades4 
,there from the polish'd fetters of the 
great1      ,triumphal piles1 and gilded
 rooms of state2      ,prime ministers1 
and sycophantic knaves2                 
,illustrious villains1 and illustrious  
slaves2      ,from all the vain         
formality of fools1      ,an odious task

 of arbitrary rules2      ,the ruffling 
cares which the vex'd soul annoy1       
,the wealth the rich possess1 but not   
enjoy1      ,the visionary bliss the    
world can lend1      ,the insidious foe1
 and false designing friend1      ,the  
seven-fold fury of ,xantippe's soul1    
,and ,s----'s rage that burns without   
controul2      ,i'd live retir'd1       
contented1 and serene1      ,forgot1    
unknown1 unenvied and unseen4           
,yet not a real hermitage ,i'd chuse1   
,nor wish to live from all the world    
recluse2      ,but with a friend        
sometimes unbend the soul1      ,in     
social converse1 o'er the sprightly     
bowl4      ,with cheerful ,w----1 serene
 and wisely gay1      ,i'd often pass   
the dancing hours away2      ,he skill'd
 alike to profit and to please1         
,politely talks with unaffected ease2   
,sage in debate1 and faithful to his    
trust1      ,mature in science1 and     
severely just2      ,of soul diffusive1 
vast and unconfin'd1      ,breathing    

benevolence to all mankind2             
,cautious to censure1 ready to commend1 
,a firm1 unshaken1 uncorrupted friend3  
,in early youth fair wisdom's paths he  
trod1      ,in early youth a minister of
 ,god3      ,each pupil lov'd him when  
at ,yale he shone1      ,and ev'ry      
bleeding bosom weeps him gone4          
,dear ,a----1 too1 should grace my rural
 seat1      ,forever welcome to the     
green retreat3      ,heav'n for the     
cause of righteousness design'd         
,his florid genius1 and capacious mind3 
,oft have ,i heard1 amidst th' adoring  
throng1      ,celestial truths devolving
 from his tongue2      ,high o'er the   
list'ning audience seen him stand1      
,divinely speak1 and graceful stretch   
his hand3      ,with such becoming grace
 and pompous sound1      ,with          
long-rob'd senators encircled round1    
,before the ,roman bar1 while ,rome was 
free1      ,nor bow'd to ,csar's throne 
the servile knee2      ,immortal ,tully 
pleads the patriot cause1      ,while   

ev'ry tongue resounded his applause4    
,next round my board should candid      
,s---- appear1      ,of manners gentle1 
and a friend sincere1      ,averse to   
discord party-rage and strife1      ,he 
sails serenely down the stream of life4 
,with these three friends beneath a     
spreading shade1      ,where silver     
fountains murmur thro' the glade2       
,or in cool grots1 perfum'd with native 
flow'rs1      ,in harmless mirth ,i'd   
spend the circling hours2      ,or      
gravely talk1 or innocently sing1       
,or1 in harmonious concert1 strike the  
trembling string4        ,amid          
sequester'd bow'rs near gliding streams1
      ,druids and ,bards enjoy'd        
serenest dreams4      ,such was the seat
 where courtly ,horace sung3      ,and  
his bold harp immortal ,maro strung3    
,where tuneful ,orpheus' unresisted lay1
      ,made rapid tygers bear their rage
 away2      ,while groves attentive to  
th' extatic sound      ,burst from their
 roots1 and raptur'd1 danc'd around4    

,such feats the venerable ,seers of old 
7,when blissful years in golden circles 
roll'd7      ,chose and admir'd3 e'en   
,goddesses and ,gods      7,as poets    
feign7 were fond of such abodes3        
,th' imperial consort of fictitious     
,jove1      ,for fount full ,ida forsook
 the realms above4      ,oft to ,idalia 
on a golden cloud1      ,veil'd in a    
mist of fragrance1 ,venus rode2         
,the num'rous altars to the queen were  
rear'd1      ,and love-sick youths there
 am'rous-vows prefer'd1      ,while     
fair-hair'd damsels 7a lascivious train7
      ,with wanton rites ador'd her     
gentle reign4      ,the silver-shafted  
,huntress of the woods1      ,sought    
pendant shades1 and bath'd in cooling   
floods4      ,in palmy ,delos1 by       
,scamander's side1      ,or when        
,cajister roll'd his silver tide1       
,melodious ,phoebus sang2 the ,muses    
round      ,alternate warb'ling to the  
heav'nly sound4      ,e'en the feign'd  
,,monarch of heav'n's bright abode1     

,high thron'd in gold1 of ,gods the     
sov'reign ,god1      ,oft time prefer'd 
the shade of ,ida's grove      ,to all  
th'ambrosial feast's1 and nectar'd cups 
above4        ,behold1 the rosy-finger'd
 morning dawn1      ,in saffron rob'd1  
and blushing o'er the lawn6             
,reflected from the clouds1 a radiant   
stream1      ,tips with etherial dew the
 mountain's brim4      ,th' unfolding   
roses1 and the op'ning flow'rs          
,imbibe the dew1 and strew the varied   
bow'rs1      ,diffuse nectarious sweets 
around1 and glow      ,with all the     
colours of the show'ry bow      ,the    
industrious bees their balmy toil renew1
      ,buzz o'er the field1 and sip the 
rosy dew4      ,but yonder comes        
th'illustrious ,god of day1             
,invests the east1 and gilds the        
etherial way2      ,the groves rejoice1 
the feather'd nations sing1      ,echo  
the mountains and the vallies ring4     
,hail ,orb6 array'd with majesty and    
fire1      ,that bids each sable shade  

of night retire6      ,fountain of      
light6 with burning glory crown'd1      
,darting a deluge of effulgence round6  
,wak'd by thy genial and praline ray1   
,nature resumes her verdure1 and looks  
gay2      ,fresh blooms the rose1 the   
dropping plants revive1      ,the groves
 reflourish1 and forests live4          
,deep in the teeming earth1 the rip'ning
 ore      ,confesses thy consolidating  
pow'r3      ,hence labour draws her     
tools1 and artists mould      ,the      
fusile silver and the ductile gold3     
,hence war is furnish'd1 and the regal  
shield      ,like lightning flashes o'er
 th' illumin'd field4      ,if thou so  
fair with delegated light1      ,that   
all heav'n's splendors vanish at thy    
sight2      ,with what effulgence must  
the ocean glow6      ,from which thy    
borrow'd beams incessant flow6      ,th'
 exhaustless force whose single smiles  
supplies1      ,th' unnumber'd orbs that
 gild the spangled skies6        ,oft   
would ,i view1 in admiration lost1      

,heav'n's sumptuous canopy1 and starry  
host2      ,with level'd tube and       
astronomic eye1      ,pursue the planets
 whirling thro' the sky3                
,immeasurable vaults6 where thunders    
roll1      ,and forked lightnings flash 
from pole to pole4      ,say1 railing   
infidel6 canst thou survey      ,yon    
globe of fire1 that gives the golden    
day1      ,th' harmonious structure of  
this vast machine1      ,and not confess
 its ,architect divine8      ,then go1  
vain wretch2 tho' deathless be thy soul1
      ,go1 swell the riot1 and exhaust  
the bowl2      ,plunge into vice1       
humanity resign1      ,go1 fill the     
stie1 and bristle into swine8           
,none but a pow'r omnipotent and wise   
,could frame this earth1 or spread the  
boundless skies      ,he made the whole2
 at his omnific call1                   
,from formless chaos rose this spacious 
ball1           ,and one ,,almighty     
,,god is seen in all4                   
,by him our cup is crown'd1 our table   

spread      ,with luscious wine1 and    
life-sustaining bread4      ,what       
countless wonders doth the earth        
contain6      ,what countless wonders   
the unfathom'd main6      ,bedrop'd with
 gold1 their scaly nations shine1       
,haunt coral groves1 or lash the foaming
 brine4      ,,jehovah's glories blaze  
all nature round4      ,in heaven1 on   
earth1 and in the deeps profound2       
,ambitious of his name1 the warblers    
sing1      ,and praise their ,maker     
while they hail the spring3      ,the   
zephyrs breathe it1 and the thunders    
roar1      ,while surge to surge1 and   
shore resounds to shore4      ,but      
,,man1 endu'd with an immortal mind1    
,his ,maker's ,image1 and for heaven    
design'd2      ,to loftier notes his    
raptur'd voice should raise1      ,and  
chaunt sublimer hymns to his ,creator's 
praise4        ,when rising ,phoebus    
ushers in the morn1      ,and golden    
beams th' impurpled skies adorn3        
,wak'd by the gentle murmur of the      

floods1      ,or the soft music of the  
waving woods2      ,rising from sleep   
with the melodious quire1      ,to      
solemn sounds ,i'd tune the hallow'd    
lyre4      ,thy name1 ,o ,,god6 should  
tremble on my tongue1      ,till ev'ry  
grove prov'd vocal to my song3          
7,delightful task6 with dawning light to
 sing1      ,triumphant hymns to        
heav'n's eternal king47      ,some      
courteous angel should my breast        
inspire1      ,attune my lips1 and guide
 the warbled wire1      ,while sportive 
echoes catch the sacred sound1          
,swell ev'ry note1 and bear the music   
round2      ,while mazy streams         
meand'ring to the main      ,hang in    
suspence to hear the heav'nly strain2   
,and hush'd to silence1 all the         
feather'd throng1      ,attentive listen
 to the tuneful song4        ,father of 
,light6 exhaustless source of good6     
,supreme1 eternal1 self-existent ,god6  
,before the beamy sun dispens'd a ray1  
,flam'd in the azure vault1 and gave the

 day2      ,before the glimm'ring ,moon 
with borrow'd light1      ,shone queen  
amid the silver host of night2          
,high in the ,heav'ns1 thou reign'dst   
superior ,lord1      ,by suppliant      
angels worship'd and ador'd4      ,with 
the celestial choir then let me join1   
,in cheerful praises to the pow'r       
,divine4      ,to sing thy praise1 do   
thou1 ,o ,,god6 inspire1      ,a mortal 
breast with more than mortal fire2      
,in dreadful majesty thou sit'st        
enthron'd1      ,with light encircled1  
and with glory crown'd2      ,thro' all 
infinitude extends thy reign1      ,for 
thee1 nor heav'n1 nor heav'n of heav'ns 
contain2      ,but tho' thy throne is   
fix'd above the sky1      ,thy          
,omnipresence fills immensity4          
,saints rob'd in white1 to thee their   
anthems bring1      ,and radient        
,martyrs hallelujahs sing3              
,heav'n's universal host their voices   
raise1      ,in one eternal chorus1 to  
thy praise2      ,and round thy awful   

throne1 with one accord1      ,sing1    
,holy1 ,holy1 ,holy is the ,lord4       
,at thy creative voice1 from ancient    
night1      ,sprang smiling beauty1 and 
yon' worlds of light3      ,thou        
spak'st--the planetary ,chorus roll'd   
,and all th' expanse was starr'd with   
beamy gold2      ,let there be light1   
said ,,god--,light instant shone1       
,and from the orient1 burst the golden  
,sun2      ,heav'n's gazing hierarchies1
 with glad surprise1      ,saw the first
 morn invest the skies1      ,and       
straight th' exulting troops thy throne 
surround1      ,with thousand thousand  
harps of heav'nly sound3      ,thrones1 
powers1 dominions1 7ever shining        
trains67      ,shouted thy praises in   
triumphant strains3      ,great are thy 
works1 they sing1 and1 all around1      
,great are thy works1 the echoing       
heav'n's resound4      ,the effulgent   
sun1 insufferably bright1      ,is but a
 beam of thy o'erflowing light2         
,the tempest is thy breath2 the thunder 

hurl'd1      ,tremendous roars thy      
vengeance o'er the world2      ,thou    
bow'st the heav'ns the smoaking         
mountains nod2      ,rocks fall to dust1
 and nature owns her ,god2      ,pale   
tyrants shrink1 the atheist stands      
aghast1      ,and impious kings in      
horror breath their last4      ,to this 
great ,god alternately ,i'd pay1        
,the evening anthem1 and the morning    
lay4        ,for sov'reign ,gold ,i     
never would repine1      ,nor wish the  
glitt'ring dust of monarchs mine4       
,what tho' high columns heave into the  
skies1      ,gay ceilings shine1 and    
vaulted arches rise2      ,tho' fretted 
gold the sculptur'd roof adorn1         
,the rubies redden1 and the jaspers     
burn6      ,or what1 alas6 avails the   
gay attire1      ,to wretched man1 who  
breathes but to expire6      ,oft on the
 vilest1 riches are bestow'd1      ,to  
shew their meanness in the sight of     
,god4      ,high from a dung-hill1 see a
 ,dives rise1      ,and1 ,titan-like1   

insult th' avenging skies3      ,the    
crowd1 in adulation1 calls him ,lord1   
,by thousands courted1 flatter'd1 and   
ador'd3      ,in riot plung'd1 and drunk
 with earthly joys1      ,no higher     
thought his grov'ling foul employs3     
,the poor he scourges with an iron rod1 
,and from his bosom banishes his ,god4  
,but oft in height of wealth1 and       
beauty's bloom1      ,deluded man is    
fated to the tomb6      ,for1 lo6 he    
sickens1 swift his colour flies1        
,and rising mists obscure his swimming  
eyes3      ,around his bed his weeping  
friends bemoan1      ,extort th'        
unwilling tear1 and wish him gone2      
,his sorrowing heir augments the tender 
show'r1      ,deplores his death--yet   
hails the dying hour4      ,ah bitter   
comfort6 ,sad relief1 to die6      ,tho'
 sunk in down1 beneath the canopy6      
,his eyes no more shall see the cheerful
 light1      ,weigh'd down by death in  
everlasting night3      ,and when with  
age thy head is silver'd o'er1      ,and

 cold in death thy bosom beats no more1 
,thy foul exulting shall desert its     
clay1      ,and mount1 triumphant1 to   
eternal day4      ,but to improve the   
intellectual mind1      ,reading should 
be to contemplation join'd4      ,first 
,i'd collect from the ,parnassian       
spring1      ,what muses dictate1 and   
what poets sing4--      ,virgil1 as     
,prince1 shou'd wear the laurel'd crown1
      ,and other bards pay homage to his
 throne2      ,the blood of heroes now  
effus'd so long1      ,will run forever 
purple thro' his song4      ,see6 how he
 mounts toward the blest abodes1        
,on planets rides1 and talks with       
demi-gods6      ,how do our ravish'd    
spirits melt away1      ,when in his    
song ,sicilian shepherds play6      ,but
 what a splendor strikes the dazzled    
eye1      ,when ,dido shines in awful   
majesty6      ,embroider'd purple clad  
the ,tyrian queen1      ,her motion     
graceful1 and august her mein2      ,a  
golden zone her royal limbs embrac'd1   

,a golden quiver rattled by her waist4  
,see her proud steed majestically       
prance1      ,contemn the trumpet1 and  
deride the lance6      ,in crimson      
trappings1 glorious to behold1          
,confus'dly gay with interwoven gold6   
,he champs the bitt1 and throws the foam
 around1      ,impatient paws1 and tears
 the solid ground4      ,how stern neas 
thunders thro' the field6      ,with    
tow'ring helmet1 and refulgent shield6  
,coursers o'erturn'd1 and mighty        
warriors slain1      ,deform'd with     
gore1 lie welt'ring on the plain4       
,struck thro' with wounds1 ill-fated    
chieftains lie1      ,frown e'en in     
death1 and threaten as they die4        
,thro' the thick squadrons see the ,hero
 bound1      7,his helmet flashes1 and  
his arms resound67      ,all grim with  
rage1 he frowns o'er ,turnus' head1     
7,re-kindled ire6 for blooming ,pallas  
dead7      ,then1 in his bosom plung'd  
the shining blade--      ,the soul      
indignant sought the ,stygian shade6    

,the far-fam'd bards that grac'd        
,britannia's isle1      ,should next    
compose the venerable pile4      ,great 
,milton first1 for tow'ring thought     
renown'd1      ,parent of song1 and     
fam'd the world around6      ,his       
glowing breast divine ,urania fir'd1    
,or ,,god himself th' immortal ,bard    
inspir'd4      ,borne on triumphant     
wings he take this flight1              
,explores all heaven1 and treads the    
realms of light3      ,in martial pomp  
he clothes th' angelic train1           
,while warring myriads shake th'        
etherial plain4      ,first ,michael    
stalks1 high tow'ring o'er the rest2    
,with heav'nly plumage nodding on his   
crest3      ,impenetrable arms his limbs
 unfold1      ,eternal adamant1 and     
burning gold6      ,sparkling in fiery  
mail1 with dire delight1                
,rebellious ,satan animates the fight3  
,armipotent they sink in rolling smoke1 
,all heav'n resounding1 to its centre   
shook1      ,to crush his foes1 and     

quell the dire alarms1      ,messiah    
sparkled in refulgent arms2      ,in    
radient panoply divinely bright1        
,his limbs incas'd1 he slash'd devouring
 light1      ,on burning wheels1 o'er   
heav'n's crystalline road               
,thunder'd the chariot of thy ,filial   
,god2      ,the burning wheels on golden
 axles turn'd1      ,with flaming gems  
the golden axles burn'd4      ,lo6 the  
apostate host1 with terror struck1      
,roll back by millions6 ,th' ,empyrean  
shook6      ,sceptres1 and orbid        
shields1 and crowns of gold1            
,cherubs and ,seraphs in confusion      
roll'd2      ,till1 from his hand1 the  
triple thunder hurl'd1      ,compell'd  
them headlong1 to th' ,infernal world4  
,then tuneful ,pope1 whom all the nine  
inspire1      ,with saphic sweetness1   
and pindaric fire4      ,father of      
verse6 melodious and divine6      ,next 
peerless ,milton should distinguish'd   
shine4      ,smooth flow his numbers    
when he paints the grove1      ,th'     

enraptur'd virgins list'ning into love4 
,but when the night and hoarse          
resounding storm1      ,rush on the     
deep1 and ,neptune's face deform1       
,rough runs the verse1 the son'rous     
numbers roar      ,like the hoarse surge
 that thunders on the shore4      ,but  
when he sings th' exhilerated swains1   
,th' embow'ring groves1 and ,windsor's  
blissful plains1      ,our eyes are     
ravish'd with the sylvan scene1         
,embroider'd fields1 and groves in      
living green3      ,his lays the verdure
 of the meads prolong1      ,and        
wither'd forests blossom in his song2   
,thames' silver streams his flowing     
verse admire1      ,and cease to murmur 
while he tunes his lyre4        ,next   
shou'd appear great ,dryden's lofty     
muse1      ,for who would ,dryden's     
polish'd verse refuse8      ,his lips   
were moisten'd in ,parnassus' spring1   
,and ,phoebus taught his laureat son to 
sing4      ,how long did ,virgil        
untranslated moan1      ,his beauties   

fading1 and his flights unknown2        
,till ,dryden rose1 and1 in exalted     
strain1      ,re-sang the fortune of the
 god-like man8      ,again the ,trojan  
prince with dire delight1      ,dreadful
 in arms1 demands the ling'ring fight3  
,again ,camilla glows with martial fire1
      ,drives armies back1 and makes all
 ,troy retire4      ,with more than     
native lustre ,virgil shines1      ,and 
gains sublimer heights in ,dryden's     
lines4        ,the gentle ,watts1 who   
strings his silver lyre      ,to sacred 
odes1 and heav'n's all-ruling fire2     
,who scorns th' applause of the         
licentious stage1      ,and mounts yon  
sparkling worlds with hallow'd rage1    
,compels my thoughts to wing the        
heav'nly road1      ,and wafts my soul1 
exulting1 to my ,god2      ,no fabled   
,nine harmonious bard6 inspire      ,thy
 raptur'd breast with such seraphic     
fire2      ,but prompting ,angels warm  
thy boundless rage1      ,direct thy    
thoughts1 and animate thy page4         

,blest man6 for spotless sanctity       
rever'd1      ,lov'd by the good1 and by
 the guilty fear'd2      ,blest man6    
from gay delusive scenes remov'd1       
,thy ,maker loving1 by thy ,maker lov'd2
      ,to ,god thou tun'st thy          
consecrated lays1      ,nor meanly blush
 to sing ,jehovah's praise4      ,oh6   
did1 like thee1 each laurel'd bard      
delight1      ,to paint ,religion in her
 native light1      ,not then with      
,plays the lab'ring' press would groan1 
,nor ,vice defy the ,pulpit and the     
,throne2      ,no impious rhymer charm a
 vicious age1      ,nor prostrate       
,virtue groan beneath their rage3       
,but themes divine in lofty numbers     
rise1      ,fill the wide earth1 and    
echo through the skies4        ,these   
for ,delight2--for ,profit ,i would     
read1      ,the labour'd volumes of the 
learned dead3      ,sagacious ,locke1 by
 ,providence design'd      ,t' exalt1   
instruct1 and rectify the mind4         
,th' unconquerable ,sage1,a whom virtue 

fir'd1      ,and from the tyrant's      
lawless rage retir'd1      ,when victor 
,csar freed unhappy ,rome1      ,from   
,pompey's chains1 to substitute his own4
      ,longinius1 ,livy1 fam'd          
,thucydides1      ,quintillian1 ,plato  
and ,demosthenes1      ,persuasive      
,tully1 and ,corduba's ,sage1,b         
,who fell by ,nero's unrelenting rage2  
,him,c whom ungrateful ,athens doom'd to
 bleed1      ,despis'd when living1 and 
deplor'd when dead4      ,raleigh ,i'd  
read with ever fresh delight1           
,while ages past rise present to my     
fight3      ,ah man unblest6 he foreign 
realms explor'd1      ,then fell a      
victim to his country's sword6      ,nor
 should great ,derham pass neglected by1
            ,observant sage6 to whose   
deep piercing eye              ,nature's
 stupendous works expanded lie4         
,nor he1 ,britannia1 thy unmatch'd      
renown6      7,adjudg'd to wear the     
philosophic crown7      ,who on the     
solar orb uplifted rode1      ,and      

scan'd th' unfathomable works of ,god1  
,who bound the silver planets to their  
spheres1      ,and trac'd th' elliptic  
curve of blazing stars6      ,immortal  
,newton2 whole illustrious name         
,will shine on records of eternal fame4 
,footnote ,a3 ,cato4        ,footnote   
,b3 ,seneca4        ,footnote ,c3       
,socrates4        ,by love directed1 ,i 
wou'd choose a wife1      ,t' improve my
 bliss and ease the load of life4       
,hail ,wedlock6 hail1 inviolable tye6   
,perpetual fountain of domestic joy6    
,love1 friendship1 honour1 truth1 and   
pure delight1      ,harmonious mingle in
 the nuptial rite4      ,in ,eden first 
the holy state begun1      ,when perfect
 innocence distinguish'd man2      ,the 
human pair1 th' ,almighty ,pontiff led1 
,gay as the morning to the bridal bed2  
,a dread solemnity th' espousals grac'd1
      ,angels the ,witnesses1 and ,,god 
the ,,priest6      ,all earth exulted on
 the nuptial hour1      ,and voluntary  
roses deck'd the bow'r6      ,the joyous

 birds1 on ev'ry blossom'd spray1       
,sung ,hymenians to th' important day1  
,while ,philomela swell'd the sponsal   
song1      ,and ,paradise with          
gratulations rung4        ,relate1      
inspiring muse6 where shall ,i find     
,a blooming virgin with an angel mind1  
,unblemish'd as the white-rob'd virgin  
quire      ,that fed1 ,o ,rome6 thy     
consecrated fire2      ,by reason aw'd1 
ambitious to be good1      ,averse to   
vice1 and zealous for her ,god8         
,relate1 in what blest region can ,i    
find      ,such bright perfections in a 
female mind8      ,what ,phoenix-woman  
breathes the vital air1      ,so greatly
 greatly good1 and so divinely fair8    
,sure1 not the gay and fashionable      
train1      ,licentious1 proud1 immoral 
and prophane2      ,who spend their     
golden hours in antic dress1            
,malicious whispers1 and inglorious     
ease4--        ,lo6 round the board a   
shining train appears1      ,in rosy    
beauty1 and in prime of years6          

,this hates a flounce1 and this a       
flounce approves1      ,this shews the  
trophies of her former loves2           
,polly avers that ,sylvia dress in      
green1      ,when last at church the    
gaudy ,nymph was seen2      ,chloe      
condemns her optics1 and will lay       
',twas azure sattin1 interstreak'd with 
grey2      ,lucy invested with judicial 
pow'r1      ,awards 'twas neither--and  
the strife is o'er4        ,then        
parrots1 lap-dogs1 monkeys1 squirrels1  
beaus1      ,fans1 ribbands1 tuckers1   
patches1 furbaloes1      ,in quick      
succession1 thro' their fancies run1    
,and dance incessant on the flippant    
tongue4      ,and when fatigued with    
ev'ry other sport1      ,the belles     
prepare to grace the sacred court1      
,they marshal all their forces in array1
      ,to kill with glances and destroy 
in play4      ,two skilful maids1 with  
reverential fear1      ,in wanton       
wreaths collect their silken hair2      
,two paint their cheeks1 and round their

 temples pour      ,the fragrant        
unguent1 and the ambrosial show'r2      
,one pulls the shape-creating stays1 and
 one      ,encircles round her waist the
 golden zone3      ,not with more toil  
t' improve immortal charms1      ,strove
 ,juno1 ,venus1 and the ,queen of ,arms1
      ,when ,priam's ,son adjudg'd the  
golden prize      ,to the resistless    
beauty of the skies4      ,at length    
equip'd in love's enticing arms1        
,with all that glitters and with all    
that charms1      ,th' ideal goddesses  
to church repair1      ,peep thro' the  
fan and mutter o'er a pray'r1      ,or  
listen to the organ's pompous sound1    
,or eye the gilded images around2       
,or1 deeply studied in coquetish rules1 
,aim wily glances at unthinking fools2  
,or shew the lilly hand with graceful   
air1      ,or wound the fopling with a  
lock of hair3      ,and when the hated  
discipline is o'er1      ,and ,misses   
tortur'd with ,repent no more1          
,they mount the pictur'd coach1 and to  

the play      ,the celebrated idols hie 
away4        ,not so the ,lass that     
shou'd my joys improve1      ,with solid
 friendship1 and connubial love3      ,a
 native bloom1 with intermingled white1 
,should set features in a pleasing      
light2      ,like ,helen flushing with  
unrival'd charms4      ,when raptur'd   
,paris darted in her arms4      ,but    
what1 alas6 avails a ruby cheek1      ,a
 downy bosom1 or a snowy neck6          
,charms ill supply the want of          
innocence1      ,nor beauty forms       
intrinsic excellence3      ,but in her  
breast let moral beauties shine1        
,supernal grace and purity divine3      
,sublime her reason1 and her native wit 
,unstrain'd with pedantry and low       
conceit2      ,her fancy lively1 and her
 judgment free1      ,from female       
prejudice and bigotry3      ,averse to  
idle pomp1 and outward show1      ,the  
flatt'ring coxcomb1 and fantastic beau4 
,the fop's impertinence she should      
despise1      ,tho' sorely wounded by   

her radient eyes2      ,but pay due     
rev'rence to the exalted mind      ,by  
learning polish'd1 and by wit refin'd1  
,who all her virtues1 without guile1    
commends1      ,and all her faults as   
freely reprehends4      ,soft ,hymen's  
rites her passion should approve1       
,and in her bosom glow the flames of    
love3      ,to me her foul1 by sacred   
friendship turn1      ,and ,i1 for her1 
with equal friendship burn2      ,in    
ev'ry stage of life afford relief1      
,partake my joys1 and sympathize my     
grief2      ,unshaken1 walk in virtue's 
peaceful road1      ,nor bribe her      
reason to pursue the mode2      ,mild as
 the saint whose errors are forgiv'n1   
,calm as a vestal1 and compos'd as      
heav'n4      ,this be the partner1 this 
the lovely wife      ,that should       
embellish and prolong my life2      ,a  
nymph6 who might a second fall inspire1 
,and fill a glowing ,cherub with desire6
      ,with her ,i'd spend the          
pleasurable day1      ,while fleeting   

minutes gaily danc'd away3      ,with   
her ,i'd walk1 delighted1 o'er the      
green1      ,thro' ev'ry blooming mead1 
and rural scene1      ,or sit in open   
fields damask'd with flow'rs1      ,or  
where cool shades imbrown the noon-tide 
bow'rs1      ,imparadis'd within my     
eager arms1      ,i'd reign the happy   
monarch of her charms3      ,oft on her 
panting bosom would ,i lay1      ,and1  
in dissolving raptures1 melt away2      
,then lull'd1 by nightingales1 to balmy 
rest1      ,my blooming fair should     
slumber at my breast4        ,and when  
decrepid age 7frail mortals doom67      
,should bend my wither'd body to the    
tomb1      ,no warbling ,syrens should  
retard my flight1      ,to heav'nly     
mansions of unclouded light2      ,tho' 
death1 with his imperial horrors        
crown'd1      ,terrific grinn'd1 and    
formidably frown'd1      ,offences      
pardon'd1 and remitted sin1      ,should
 form a calm serenity within3           
,blessing my natal and my mortal hour1  

7,my soul committed to th' eternal      
pow'r7      ,inexorable death should    
smile1 for ,i1      ,who knew to ,,live1
 would never fear to ,,die4             
,,hymns      ,,hymn ,i4        ,begin   
the high celestial strain1        ,my   
ravish'd soul1 and sing1      ,a solemn 
hymn of grateful praise        ,to      
heav'n's ,almighty ,king4      ,ye      
curling fountains1 as ye roll           
,your silver waves along1      ,whisper 
to all your verdant shores        ,the  
subject of my song4      ,retain it long
 y' echoing rocks1        ,the sacred   
sound retain1      ,and from your hollow
 winding caves        ,return it oft    
again4      ,bear it1 ye winds1 on all  
your wings1        ,to distant climes   
away1      ,and round the wide extended 
world        ,my lofty theme convey4    
,take the glad burden of his name1      
,ye clouds1 as you arise1      ,whether 
to deck the golden morn1        ,or     
shade the ev'ning skies4      ,let      
harmless thunders roll along        ,the

 smooth etherial plain1      ,and answer
 from the crystal vault        ,to ev'ry
 flying strain4      ,long let it warble
 round the spheres1        ,and echo    
through the sky1      ,till ,angels1    
with immortal skill1        ,improve the
 harmony4      ,while ,i1 with sacred   
rapture fir'd1        ,the blest        
,creator sing1      ,and warble         
consecrated lays        ,to heav'n's    
,almighty ,king4      ,,hymn ,,ii--,,on 
,,heaven4        ,hail sacred ,salem6   
plac'd on high1        ,seat of the     
mighty ,king6      ,what thought can    
grasp thy boundless bliss1        ,what 
tongue thy glories sing8      ,thy      
crystal tow'rs and palaces              
,magnificently rise1      ,and dart     
their beaut'ous lustre round        ,the
 empyrean skies4      ,the voice of     
triumph in thy streets        ,and      
acclamations found1      ,gay banquets  
in thy splendid courts        ,and      
purest joys abound4      ,bright smiles 
on ev'ry face appear1        ,rapture in

 ev'ry eye2      ,from ev'ry mouth glad 
anthems flow1        ,and charming      
harmony4      ,illustrious day for ever 
there1        ,streams from the face    
divine2      ,no pale-fac'd moon e'er   
glimmers forth1        ,nor stars nor   
sun decline4      ,no scorching heats1  
no piercing colds1        ,the changing 
seasons bring2      ,but o'er the fields
 mild breezes there        ,breathe an  
eternal spring4      ,the flow'rs with  
lasting beauty shine1        ,and deck  
the smiling ground1      ,while flowing 
streams of pleasures all        ,the    
happy plains surround4      ,,hymn      
,,iii4--,,the ,,creation4        ,now   
let the spacious world arise1           
,said the creator ,lord3      ,at once  
th' obedient earth and skies            
,rose at his sov'reign word4      ,dark 
was the deep1 the waters lay            
,confus'd1 and drown'd the land2        
,he call'd the light1 the new-born day  
,attends on his command4      ,he bids  
the clouds ascend on high2        ,the  

clouds ascend1 and bear      ,a wat'ry  
treasure to the sky1        ,and float  
on softer air4      ,the liquid element 
below1        ,was gather'd by his hand2
      ,the rolling seas together flow1  
,and leave a solid land3      ,with     
herbs and plants 7a flow'ry birth7      
,the naked globe he crown'd1      ,ere  
there was rain to bless the earth1      
,or sun to warm the ground4      ,then  
he adorn'd the upper skies1             
,behold the sun appears1      ,the moon 
and stars in order rise1        ,to mark
 our months and years4      ,out of the 
deep th' ,almighty ,king        ,did    
vital beings frame1      ,and painted   
fowls of ev'ry wing1        ,and fish of
 ev'ry name1      ,he gave the lion and 
the worm        ,at once their wond'rous
 birth2      ,and grazing beasts of     
various form        ,rose from the      
teeming earth4      ,adam was form'd of 
equal clay1        ,the sov'reign of the
 rest2      ,design'd for nobler ends   
than they1        ,with ,god's own image

 blest4      ,thus glorious in the      
,maker's eye1        ,the young         
,creation stood2      ,he saw the       
building from on high1        ,his word 
pronounc'd it good4      ,,the ,,lord',s
 ,,prayer4        ,father of all6 we bow
 to thee1        ,who dwells in heav'n  
ador'd2      ,but present still thro'   
all thy works1        ,the universal    
,lord4      ,all hallow'd be thy sacred 
name1        ,o'er all the nations      
known2      ,advance the kingdom of thy 
grace1        ,and let thy glory come4  
,a grateful homage may we yield1        
,with hearts resigned to thee2      ,and
 as in heav'n thy will is done1         
,on earth so let it be4      ,from day  
to day we humbly own        ,the hand   
that feeds us still2      ,give us our  
bread1 and we may rest        ,contented
 in thy will4      ,our sins and        
trespasses we own2        ,o may they be
 forgiv'n6      ,that mercy we to others
 shew1        ,we pray the like from    
,heav'n4      ,our life let still thy   

grace direct1        ,from evil guard   
our way1      ,and in temptation's fatal
 path        ,permit us not to stray4   
,for thine the pow'r1 the kingdom thine1
        ,all glory's due to thee3       
,thine from eternity they were1         
,and thine shall ever be4      ,,the    
,,universal ,,prayer4--,,by ,,mr4       
,,pope4        ,father of all1 in ev'ry 
age1        ,in ev'ry clime ador'd2     
,by saint1 by savage1 and by sage1      
,jehovah1 ,jove1 or ,lord4      ,thou   
great ,first ,cause1 least understood2  
,who all my sense confin'd1      ,to    
know but this1 that thou art good1      
,and that myself am blind3      ,yet    
gave me in this dark estate1        ,to 
see the good from ill2      ,and binding
 ,nature fast in fate1        ,left free
 the human ,will4      ,what conscience 
dictates to be done1        ,or warns me
 not to do1      ,this1 teach me more   
than hell to shun1        ,that1 more   
than heav'n pursue4      ,what blessings
 thy free bounty gives2        ,let me  

not cast away2      ,for ,god is paid   
when man receives1        ,t' enjoy is  
to obey4      ,yet not to earth's       
contracted span        ,thy goodness let
 me bound1      ,or think thee ,lord    
alone of ,man1        ,when thousand    
worlds are round3      ,let not this    
weak unknowing hand        ,presume thy 
bolts to throw1      ,and deal damnation
 round the land1        ,on each ,i     
judge thy foe4      ,if ,i am right1 thy
 grace impart1        ,still in the     
right to stay2      ,if ,i am wrong1 ,o 
teach my heart        ,to find that     
better way4      ,save me alike from    
foolish pride1        ,or impious       
discontent1      ,at aught thy wisdom   
has deny'd1        ,or aught thy        
goodness lent4      ,teach me to feel   
another's woe1        ,to hide the fault
 ,i see2      ,that mercy ,i to others  
shew1        ,that mercy show to me4    
,mean though ,i am1 not wholly so1      
,since quicken'd by thy breath2      ,oh
 lead me wheresoe'er ,i go1             

,through this day's life or death4      
,this day be bread and peace my lot3    
,all else beneath the sun1      ,thou   
knowst if best bestow'd or not1         
,and let thy will be done4      ,to     
thee1 whose temple is all space1        
,whose altar1 earth1 sea1 skies6        
,one chorus let all being raise6        
,all nature's incense rise6             
,,character ,,of ,,man4        ,know    
then thyself2 presume not ,god to scan  
,the proper study of mankind1 is man4   
,plac'd on this isthmus of a middle     
state1      ,a being darkly wise1 and   
rudely great2      ,with too much       
knowledge for the sceptic side1         
,with too much weakness for the stoic's 
pride1      ,he hangs between2 in doubt 
to act1 or rest2      ,in doubt1 to deem
 himself a ,god1 or beast2      ,in     
doubt1 his mind or body to prefer2      
,born1 but to die2 and reas'ning1 but to
 err3      ,alike in ignorance1 his     
reason such1      ,whether he thinks too
 little or too much3      ,chaos of     

thought and passion1 all confus'd2      
,still by himself abus'd1 or disabus'd3 
,created1 half to rise1 and half to     
fall2      ,great lord of all things1   
yet a prey to all3      ,sole judge of  
truth1 in endless error hurl'd2         
,the glory1 jest1 and riddle of the     
world6          ,,winter4        ,see6  
,winter comes1 to rule the varied year1 
,sullen and sad1 with all his rising    
train1      ,vapours1 and clouds1 and   
storms4 ,be these my theme2      ,these1
 that exalt the soul to solemn thought1 
,and heavenly musing4 ,welcome1 kindred 
glooms6      ,congenial horrors1 hail6  
,with frequent foot1      ,pleas'd1 have
 ,i1 in my cheerful morn of life1       
,when1 nurs'd by careless solitude1 ,i  
liv'd1      ,and sung of nature with    
unceasing joy4      ,pleas'd1 have ,i   
wand'red through your rough domain2     
,trod the pure virgin snows1 myself as  
pure2      ,heard the winds roar1 and   
the big torrent burst2      ,or seen the
 deep fermenting tempest brew'd      ,in

 the grim evening sky4 ,thus pass the   
time1      ,till1 through the lucid     
chambers of the south1      ,look'd out 
the joyous spring1 look'd out1 and      
smil'd4          ,,douglas',s ,,account 
,,of ,,himself4        ,my name is      
,norval4 ,on the ,grampian ,hills       
,my father feeds his flocks2 a frugal   
swain1      ,whose constant cares were  
to increase his store1      ,and keep   
his only son1 myself1 at home4      ,for
 ,i had heard of battles1 and ,i long'd 
,to follow to the field some warlike    
lord3      ,and heav'n soon granted what
 my sire deny'd4      ,this moon1 which 
rose last night1 round as my shield1    
,had not yet fill'd her horns1 when by  
her light1      ,a band of fierce       
barbarians1 from the hills      ,rush'd1
 like a torrent1 down upon the vale1    
,sweeping our flocks and herds4 ,the    
shepherds fled      ,for safety and for 
succour4 ,i alone1      ,with bended    
bow1 and quiver full of arrows1         
,hover'd about the enemy1 and mark'd    

,the road he took2 then hasted to my    
friends2      ,whom1 with a troop of    
fifty chosen men1      ,i met advancing4
 ,the pursuit ,i led1      ,till we     
o'ertook the spoil encumber'd foe4      
,we fought--and conquer'd4 ,ere a sword 
was drawn1      ,an arrow1 from my bow1 
had pierc'd their chief1      ,who wore1
 that day1 the arms which now ,i wear4  
,returning home in triumph1 ,i disdain'd
      ,the shepherd's slothful life3 and
 having heard      ,that our good king  
had summon'd his bold peers1      ,to   
lead their warriors to the ,carron side1
      ,i left my father's house1 and    
took with me      ,a chosen servant to  
conduct my steps--      ,yon trembling  
coward who forsook his master4          
,journeying with this intent1 ,i pass'd 
these towers2      ,and1 heaven         
directed1 came this day1 to do      ,the
 happy deed1 that gilds my humble name4 
,,douglas',s ,,account ,,of ,,the       
,,manner ,,in ,,which ,,he ,,learned    
,,the ,,art ,,of ,,war4        ,beneath 

a mountain's brow1 the most remote      
,and inaccessible by shepherds trod1    
,in a deep cave1 dug by no mortal hand1 
,a hermit liv'd2 a melancholy man1      
,who was the wonder of our wand'ring    
swains1      ,austere and lonely1 cruel 
to himself1      ,did they report him2  
the cold earth his bed1      ,water his 
drink1 his food the shepherd's alms4    
,i went to see him1 and my heart was    
touch'd      ,with rev'rence and with   
pity4 ,mild he spake1      ,and1        
entering on discourse1 such stories     
told1      ,as made me oft revisit his  
sad cell4      ,for he had been a       
soldier in his youth1      ,and fought  
in famous battles1 when the peers       
,of ,europe1 by the bold ,godfredo led1 
,against th' usurping infidel display'd 
,the blessed cross1 and won the ,holy   
,land4      ,pleas'd with my admiration1
 and the fire      ,his speech struck   
from me2 the old man would shake        
,his years away1 and act his young      
encounters4      ,then having shewn his 

wounds2 he'd sit him down4      ,and all
 the live long day1 discourse of war4   
,to help my fancy1 in the smooth green  
turf      ,he cut the figures of the    
marshall'd hosts3      ,describ'd the   
motions1 and explain'd the use      ,of 
the deep column and lengthen'd line1    
,the square1 the crescent1 and the      
phalanx firm2      ,for1 all that       
,saracen or ,christian knew      ,of    
war's vast art1 was to this hermit      
known4                                  
,unhappy man6      ,returning homeward  
by ,messina's port1      ,loaded with   
wealth and honours bravely won1      ,a 
rude and boist'rous captain of the sea  
,fasten'd a quarrel on him4 ,fierce they
 fought2      ,the stranger fell1 and   
with his dying breath1      ,declar'd   
his name and lineage6 ,mighty ,god6     
,the soldier cry'd1 my brother6 ,oh6 my 
brother6                                
,they exchanged forgiveness3      ,and  
happy1 in my mind1 was he that died2    
,for many deaths has the survivor       

suffer'd1      ,in the wild desart on a 
rock he sits1      ,or on some nameless 
stream's untrodden banks1      ,and     
ruminates all day his dreadful fate4    
,at times1 alas6 not in his perfect     
mind6      ,hold's dialogues with his   
lov'd brother's ghost2      ,and oft    
each night forsakes his sullen couch1   
,to make sad orisons for him he slew4   
,,baucis ,,and ,,philemon4        ,in   
ancient times1 as story tells1      ,the
 saints would often leave their cells1  
,and stroll about2 but hide their       
quality1      ,to try good people's     
hospitality4        ,it happened1 on a  
winter night1      ,as authors on the   
legend write1      ,two brother hermits1
 saints by trade2      ,taking their    
tour in masquerade1      ,disguis'd in  
tattered habits1 went      ,to a small  
village down in ,kent2      ,where1 in  
the stroller's canting strain1          
,they begg'd from door to door1 in-vain2
      ,tri'd every tone might pity win1 
,but not a soul would let them in4      

,our wandering saints1 in woeful state1 
,treated at this ungodly rate1          
,having through all the village pass'd1 
,to a small cottage came at last1       
,where dwelt a good old honest yoeman1  
,call'd in the neighbourhood1 ,philemon2
      ,who kindly did these saints      
invite      ,in his poor hut to pass the
 night2      ,and1 then1 the hospitable 
sire      ,bid goody ,baucis mend the   
fire2      ,while he1 from out the      
chimney1 took      ,a flitch of bacon   
off the hook1      ,and1 freely from the
 fattest side1      ,cut out large      
slices to be fry'd3      ,then stept    
aside1 to fetch them drink1      ,fill'd
 a large jug up to the brink2      ,then
 saw it fairly twice go round2      ,yet
 7what is wonderful7 they found1        
',twas still replenish'd to the top1    
,as if they had not touch'd a drop4     
,the good old couple were amaz'd1       
,and often on each other gaz'd2         
,for both were frighten'd to the heart1 
,and just began to cry--,what art6      

,then softly turn'd aside to view1      
,whether the lights were turning blue1  
,the gentle pilgrims1 soon aware on't1  
,told them their calling and their      
errand2      ,good folks you need not be
 afraid2      ,we are but saints1 the   
hermit said2      ,no hurt shall come to
 you or yours2      ,but for that pack  
of churlish boors1      ,not fit to live
 on ,christian ground1      ,they1 and  
their houses shall be drown'd2          
,while you see your cottage rise1       
,and grow a church before your eyes4    
,they scarce had spoke1 when fair and   
soft1      ,the roof began to move      
aloft2      ,aloft rose every beam and  
rafter2      ,the heavy wall climb'd    
slowly after4      ,the chimney widen'd1
 and grew higher1      ,became a steeple
 with a spire4      ,the kettle to the  
top was hoist2      ,with upside down1  
doom'd there to dwell1      ',tis now no
 kettle1 but a bell4      ,a wooden     
jack1 which had almost      ,lost1 by   
disuse1 the art to roast1      ,a sudden

 alteration feels1      ,increas'd by   
new intestine wheels2      ,and strait  
against the steeple rear'd1      ,became
 a clock1 and still adher'd2      ,and1 
now1 in love to household cares1        
,by a shrill voice the hour declares1   
,warning the housemaid not to burn      
,the roast-meat which it cannot turn4   
,the easy chair began to crawl1         
,like a huge snail along the wall2      
,there1 stuck aloft in public view1     
,and1 with small change1 a pulpit grew4 
,a bed-stead of the antique mode1       
,made up of timber many a load1         
,such as our ancestors did use1         
,was metamorphos'd into pews3           
,which still their ancient nature keep1 
,by lodging folks dispos'd to sleep4    
,the cottage by such feats as these1    
,grown to a church by just degrees1     
,the hermits then desir'd their host    
,old goodman ,dobson of the green1      
,remembers1 he the trees has seen2      
,he'll talk of them from morn to night1 
,and goes with folks to shew the sight4 

,on ,sundays1 after ev'ning prayer1     
,he gathers all the parish there2       
,points out the place of either yew3    
,here ,baucis1 there ,philemon grew2    
,till1 once1 a parson of our town1      
,to mend his barn1 cut ,baucis down2    
,at which1 'tis hard to be believ'd2    
,how much the other tree was griev'd2   
,grew scrubby1 died a-top1 was stunted2 
,so the next parson stubb'd1 and burnt  
it4          ,,on ,,happiness4          
,oh happiness6 our being's end and aim2 
,good1 pleasure1 ease1 content6 whate'er
 they name1      ,that something still  
which prompts the eternal sigh1         
,for which we bear to live1 or dare to  
die3      ,which still so near us1 yet  
beyond us lies1      ,o'erlook'd1 seen  
double1 by the fool1 and wise3          
,plant of celestial seed6 if drop'd     
below1      ,say1 in what mortal soil   
thou deign'st to grow3      ,fair       
op'ning to some court's propitious      
shrine2      ,or deep with di'monds in  
the flaming mine8      ,twin'd with the 

wreaths ,parnassian laurels yield1      
,or reap'd in iron harvests of the      
field8      ,where grows8 where grows it
 not8 ,if vain our toil1      ,we ought 
to blame the culture1 not the soil4     
,fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere8 
',tis no where to be found1 or every    
where4        ,order is heaven's first  
law3 and this confest1      ,some are1  
and must be1 greater than the rest2     
,more rich1 more wise4 ,but1 who infers 
from hence      ,that such are happier1 
shocks all common sense2      ,heaven to
 mankind impartial we confess1      ,if 
all are equal in their happiness4       
,but mutual wants this happiness        
increase2      ,all natures difference  
keeps all natures peace4                
,condition1 circumstance1 is not the    
thing2      ,bliss is the same1 in      
subject1 or in king2      ,in who obtain
 defence1 or who defend2      ,in him   
who is1 or him who finds a friend4      
,fortune her gifts may variously        
dispose1      ,and these be happy       

call'd1 unhappy those2      ,but        
heaven's just balance equal will appear1
      ,while those are plac'd in hope1  
and these in fear2      ,nor present    
good or ill1 the joy or curse1      ,but
 future views of better1 or of worse4   
,oh sons of earth6 attempt ye still to  
rise1      ,by mountains pil'd on1      
mountains1 to the skies8      ,heaven   
still1 with laughter1 the vain toil     
surveys1      ,and buries madmen in the 
heaps they raise4        ,know1 all the 
good that individuals find1      ,or    
,god and nature meant to mere mankind1  
,reason's whole pleasure1 all the joys  
of sense1      ,lie in three            
words--,health1 ,peace1 and ,competence4
          ,,speech ,,of ,,adam ,,to     
,,eve4        ,now morn1 her rosy steps 
in th' eastern clime      ,advancing1   
sow'd the earth with orient pearl1      
,when ,adam wak'd2 so custom'd2 for his 
sleep      ,was airy light1 from pure   
digestion bred1      ,and temperate     
vapours bland1 which the only found     

,of leaves and fuming rills1 ,aurora's  
fan1      ,lightly dispers'd1 and the   
thrill matin song      ,of birds on     
ev'ry bough4 ,so much the more      ,his
 wonder was to find unwaken'd ,eve      
,with tresses discomposed1 and glowing  
cheek4      ,as through unquiet rest4   
,he1 on his side      ,leaning half     
rais'd1 with looks of cordial love1     
,hung over her enamour'd2 and beheld    
,beauty1 which1 whether waking or       
asleep1      ,shot forth peculiar       
graces4 ,then1 with voice      ,mild as 
when ,zephyrus on ,flora breathes1      
,her hand soft touching1 whispered thus2
 ,awake1      ,my fairest1 my espous'd1 
my latest found3      ,heaven's last    
best gift1 my ever new delight1         
,awake6--,the morning shines1 and the   
fresh field      ,calls us4 ,we lose the
 prime2 to mark how spring      ,our    
tended plants2 how blows the citron     
grove3      ,what drops the myrrh1 and  
what the balmy reed2      ,how nature   
paints her colours2 how the bee         

,sits on the bloom1 extracting liquid   
sweet4          ,,soliloquy ,,and       
,,prayer ,,of ,,edward ,,the ,,black    
,,prince1 ,,before ,,the ,,battle ,,of  
,,poictiers4        ,the hour advances1 
the decisive hour1      ,that lifts me  
to the summit of renown1      ,or leaves
 me on the earth a breathless corse1    
,the buzz and bustle of the field before
 me2      ,the twang of bow-strings1 and
 the clash of spears3      ,with every  
circumstance of preparation2            
,strike with an awful horror6--,shouts  
are echo'd1      ,to drown dismay1 and  
blow up resolution      ,even to its    
utmost swell4--,from hearts so firm1    
,whom dangers fortify1 and toils        
inspire1      ,what has a leader not to 
hope6 ,and1 yet1      ,the weight of    
apprehension sinks me down--      ,o1   
soul of ,nature6 great eternal cause1   
,who gave1 and govern's all that's here 
below6      ',tis by the aid of thy     
almighty arm      ,the weak exist1 the  
virtuous are secure4      ,if1 to your  

sacred laws obedient ever      ,my      
sword1 my soul1 have own'd no other     
guide1      ,oh6 if your honour1 if the 
rights of men1      ,my country's       
happiness1 my king's renown1      ,were 
motives worthy of a warrior's zeal1     
,crown your poor servant with success   
this day3      ,and be the praise and   
glory all thy own4          ,,invocation
 ,,to ,,paradise ,,lost4        ,of     
man's first disobedience1 and the fruit 
,of that forbidden tree1 whose mortal   
taste      ,brought death into the      
world1 and all our woe1      ,with loss 
of ,eden1 till one greater man          
,restore us1 and regain the blissful    
seat1      ,sing heav'nly muse6 that on 
the sacred top      ,of ,oreb1 or of    
,sinai1 did'st inspire      ,that       
shepherd1 who first taught the chosen   
seed1      ,in the beginning1 how the   
heav'ns and earth      ,rose out of     
chaos3 or1 if ,sion hill      ,delight  
thee more1 and ,silo's book that flow'd4
      ,fast by the oracle of ,god2 ,i   

thence      ,invoke thy aid to my       
advent'rous song1      ,that1 with no   
middle flight1 intends to soar          
,above th' ,aonian mount1 while it      
pursues      ,things unattempted yet in 
prose or rhyme      ,and chiefly thou1  
,o ,spirit6 that dost prefer            
,before all temples1 th' upright heart  
and pure1      ,instruct me1 for thou   
know'st2 thou1 from the first1          
,wast present1 and with mighty wings    
outspread1      ,dove-like sat'st       
brooding o'er the vast abyss1      ,and 
mad'st it pregnant2 what in me is dark1 
,illumine3 what is low1 raise and       
support2      ,that1 to the height of   
this great argument1      ,i may assert 
eternal providence1      ,and justify   
the ways of ,god to men4                
,,morning ,,hymn4        ,these are thy 
glorious works1 ,parent of good6        
,almighty6 thine this universal frame1  
,thus wond'rous fair3 thyself1 how      
wond'rous1 then1      ,unspeakable6 who 
fit'st above these heav'ns1      ,to us 

invisible1 or dimly seen      ,in these 
thy lowest works2 yet these declare     
,thy goodness beyond thought1 and pow'r 
divine--      ,speak1 ye who best can   
tell1 ye sons of light1                 
,angels6--for ye behold him1 and1 with  
songs      ,and choral symphonies1 day  
without night1      ,circle his throne1 
rejoicing4 ,ye in heav'n6--      ,on    
earth1 join all ye creatures1 to extol  
,him first1 him last1 him midst1 and    
without end1      ,fairest of stars6    
last in the train of night1      ,if    
better then1 belong not to the dawn1    
,sure pledge of day1 that crown'st the  
smiling morn      ,with thy bright      
circlet1 praise him in thy sphere1      
,while day arises1 that sweet hour of   
prime4      ,thou fun6 of this great    
world both eye and foul1                
,acknowledge him thy greater3 found his 
praise      ,in thy eternal course1 both
 when thou climb'st1      ,and when high
 noon has gain'd1 and when thou fall'st1
      ,moon6 that now meet'st the orient

 fun1 now fly'st      ,with the fix'd   
stars1 fix'd in their orb that flies2   
,and ye five other wand'ring fires6 that
 move      ,in mystic dance1 not without
 song2 resound      ,his praise1 who out
 of darkness1 call'd up light4          
,air1 and ye elements6 the eldest birth 
,of nature's womb1 that1 in quaternion1 
run      ,perpetual circle1 multiform1  
and mix      ,and nourish all things2   
let your ceaseless change      ,vary1 to
 our great ,maker1 still new praise1    
,ye mists and exhalations6 that now rise
      ,from hill or streaming lake1     
dusky or grey1      ,till the sun paint 
your fleecy skirts with gold1      ,in  
honour to the world's great ,author1    
rise2      ,whether to deck with clouds1
 th' uncolour'd sky1      ,or wet the   
thirsty earth with falling show'rs1     
,rising1 or falling1 still advance his  
praise4      ,his praise1 ye winds6 that
 from four quarters blow1      ,breathe 
soft or loud6 and wave your tops1 ye    
pines6      ,with ev'ry plant1 in sign  

of worship1 wave1      ,fountains6 and  
ye that warble1 as ye flow1             
,melodious murmurs1 warbling1 tune his  
praise4---      ,join voices1 all ye    
living souls4 ,ye birds1      ,that1    
singing1 up to heaven-gate ascend1      
,bear1 on your wings1 and in your notes1
 his praise4--      ,ye1 that in waters 
glide6 and ye1 that walk      ,the      
earth1 and stately tread1 or lowly      
creep6      ,witness1 if ,i be silent1  
morn or ev'n1      ,to hill1 or valley1 
fountain1 or fresh shade1      ,made    
vocal by my song1 and taught his        
praise4--      ,hail1 universal ,lord6  
be bounteous still1      ,to give us    
only good3 and1 if the night      ,have 
gather'd aught of evil1 or conceal'd--  
,disperse it1 as now light dispels the  
dark4          ,,the ,,hermit4--,,by    
,,dr4 ,,beatie4        ,at the close of 
the day1 when the hamlet is still1      
,and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness
 prove2      ,when nought1 but the      
torrent1 is heard on the hill2      ,and

 nought1 but the1 nightingale's song1 in
 the grove2      ',twas then1 by the    
cave of the fountain afar2      ,a      
hermit his song of the night thus began2
      ,no more with himself1 or with    
nature at war1      ,he thought as a    
sage1 while he felt as a man4           
',ah6 why thus abandon'd to darkness and
 woe8      ',why thus1 lonely ,philomel1
 flows thy sad strain8      ',for spring
 shall return1 and a lover bestow1      
',and thy bosom no trace of misfortune  
retain4      ',yet1 if pity inspire     
thee1 ah6 cease not thy lay2            
',mourn1 sweetest complainer1 man calls 
thee to mourn2      ',oh6 soothe him1   
whose pleasures1 like thine1 pass away1 
',full quickly they pass--but they never
 return4        ',now1 gliding remote1  
on the verge of the sky1      ',the     
moon1 half extinguish'd1 her crescent   
displays2      ',but lately ,i mark'd2  
when majestic3 on high      ',she shone1
 and the planets were lost in her blaze4
      ',roll on1 thou fair orb6 and     

with2 gladness pursue      ',the path   
that conducts thee to splendor again--  
',but man's faded glory no change shall 
renew3      ',ah fool6 to exult in a    
glory so vain4        '',tis night1 and 
the landscape is lovely no more2        
',i mourn2 but ye woodlands6 ,i mourn   
not for you3      ',for morn is         
approaching1 your charms to restore1    
',perfum'd with fresh fragrance1 and    
glitt'ring with dew4      ',nor1 yet1   
for the ravage of winter ,i mourn2      
',kind nature the embryo blossom will   
save--      ',but1 when shall spring    
visit the mould'ring urn8      ',o6 when
 shall it dawn on the night of the      
grave6'        ',twas thus1 by the glare
 of false science betray'd1      ,that  
leads1 to bewilder2 and dazzles1 to     
blind2      ,my thoughts want to roam1  
from shade onward to shade1             
,destruction before me1 and sorrow      
behind4      ',o6 pity1 great father of 
light6' then ,i cry'd1      ',thy       
creature1 who fain would not wander from

 thee2      ,lo6 humbled in dust1 ,i    
relinquish my pride3      ,from doubt1  
and from darkness1 thou only canst      
free4'        ,and darkness1 and doubt1 
are now flying away1      ,no longer ,i 
roam1 in conjecture forlorn1      ,so   
breaks on the traveller1 faint1 and     
astray1      ,the bright and the balmy  
effulgence of morn4      ,see truth1    
love1 and mercy1 in triumph descending1 
,and nature all glowing in ,eden's first
 bloom6      ,on the cold cheek of      
death1 smiles and roses are blending1   
,and beauty immortal awakes from the    
tomb1          ,,compassion4            
,pity the sorrows of a poor old man1    
,whole trembling limbs have borne him to
 your door2      ,whole days are        
dwindled to the shortest span1      ,oh6
 give relief and heav'n will bless your 
store1      ,these tatter'd clothes my  
poverty bespeak1      ,those hoary locks
 proclaim my lengthen'd years2      ,and
 many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek   
,has been the channel to a flood of     

tears4      ,you house erected on the   
rising ground1      ,with tempting      
aspect1 drew me from my road1      ,for 
plenty there a residence has found1     
,and grandeur a magnificent abode4      
,hard is the fate of the infirm and     
poor6      ,here1 as ,i crav'd a morsel 
of their bread1      ,a pamper'd menial 
drove me from the door1      ,to seek a 
shelter in an humbler shed4      ,oh6   
take me to your hospitable dome2        
,keen blows the wind1 and piercing is   
the cold3      ,short is my passage to  
the friendly tomb1      ,for ,i am poor 
and miserably old4      ,should ,i      
reveal the sources of my grief1      ,if
 soft humanity e'er touch'd your breast1
      ,your hands would not withhold the
 kind relief1      ,and tears of pity   
would not be represt4      ,heav'n sends
 misfortunes2 why should we repine8     
',tis heav'n has brought me to the state
 you see2      ,and your condition may  
be soon like mine1      ,the child of   
sorrow and of misery4      ,a little    

farm was my paternal lot1      ,then    
like the lark ,i sprightly hail'd the   
morn3      ,but1 ah6 oppression forc'd  
me from my cot1      ,my cattle died1   
and blighted was my corn4      ,my      
daughter1 once the comfort of my age1   
,lur'd by a villain from her native     
home1      ,is cast abandon'd on the    
world's wide stage1      ,and doom'd in 
scanty poverty to roam4      ,my tender 
wife1 sweet soother of my care1         
,struck with sad anguish at the stern   
decree1      ,fell1 ling'ring fell1 a   
victim to despair1      ,and left the   
world to wretchedness and me4           
,pity the sorrows of a poor old man1    
,whose trembling limbs have borne him to
 your door2      ,whose days are        
dwindled to the shortest span1      ,oh6
 give relief1 and heav'n will bless your
 store4          ,,advantages ,,of      
,,peace4        ,oh1 first of human     
blessings and supreme1      ,fair       
,peace6 how lovely1 how delightful1     
thou6      ,by whose wide tie1 the      

kindred sons of men1      brothers live1
 in amity combin'd1      ,and           
unsuspicious faith3 while honest toil   
,gives ev'ry joy2 and1 to those joys1 a 
right1      ,which idle barbarous rapine
 but usurps4      ,pure is thy reign2   
when1 unaccurs'd by blood1      ,nought1
 save the sweetness of indulgent        
show'rs1      ,trickling1 distils into  
the vernant glebe2      ,instead of     
mangled carcases1 sad scene6      ,when 
the blythe sheaves lie scatter'd o'er   
the field2      ,when only shining      
shares1 the crooked knife1      ,and    
hooks imprint the vegetable wound2      
,when the land blushes with the rose    
alone1      ,the falling fruitage1 and  
the bleeding vine4      ,oh6 peace6 then
 source and soul of social life6        
,beneath whose calm inspiring influence1
      ,science his views enlarges1 art  
refines1      ,and swelling commerce    
opens all her ports--      ,bless'd be  
the man divine1 who gives us thee6      
,who bids the trumpet hush its horrid   

clang1      ,nor blow the giddy nations 
into rage2      ,who sheathes the       
murd'rous blade2 the deadly gun         
,into the well-pil'd armory returns2    
,and1 ev'ry vigour from the work of     
death      ,to grateful industry        
converting1 makes      ,the country     
flourish1 and the city smile6           
,unviolated1 him the virgin sings2      
,and him1 the smiling mother1 to her    
train4      ,of him1 the ,shepherd1 in  
the peaceful dale1      ,chaunts2 and   
the treasures of his labour sure1       
,the husbandman1 of him1 as at the      
plough1      ,or team1 he toils4 ,with  
him1 the ,tailor soothes1      ,beneath 
the trembling moon1 the midnight wave2  
,and the full city1 warm1 from street to
 street1      ,and shop to shop1        
responsive rings of him4      ,nor joys 
one land alone3 his praise extends1     
,far as the sun rolls the diffusive day2
      ,far as the breeze can bear the   
gifts of peace2      ,till all the happy
 nations catch the song4                

,,progress ,,of ,,life4        ,all the 
world's a stage1      ,and all the men  
and women merely players3      ,they    
have their exits and their entrances2   
,and one man in his time plays many     
parts2      ,his acts being seven ages4 
,at first the infant1      ,mewling and 
puking in his nurse's arms2      ,and   
then the whining school-boy1 with his   
satchel1      ,and shining morning face1
 creeping like snail      ,unwillingly  
to school4 ,and then1 the lover1        
,sighing like furnace1 with a woful     
ballad      ,made to his mistress'      
eye-brow4 ,then1 a soldier      ,full of
 strange oaths1 and bearded like the    
pard1      ,jealous in honour1 sudden   
and quick in quarrel1      ,seeking the 
bubble reputation1      ,ev'n in the    
cannon's mouth4 ,and then1 the justice1 
,in fair round belly1 with good capon   
lin'd2      ,with eyes severe and beard 
of formal cut1      ,full of wise saws  
and modern instances1      ,and so he   
plays his part4 ,the sixth age foists   

,into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon1 
,with spectacles on nose1 and pouch on  
side4      ,his youthful hose well      
sav'd1 a world too wide      ,for his   
shrunk shank2 and his big manly voice   
,turning again towards childish treble1 
pipes4      ,and whistles in his sound4 
,last scene of all      ,that ends this 
strange eventful history1      ,is      
second childishness1 and mere oblivion2 
,sans teeth1 sans eyes1 sans taste1 sans
 every thing4          ,,speeches ,,in  
,,the ,,roman ,,senate4                 
,,cato4--,fathers6 we once again are met
 in council4      ,csar's approach1 has 
summon'd us together1      ,and ,rome   
attends her fate from our resolves4     
,how shall we treat this bold aspiring  
man8      ,success still follows him1   
and backs his crimes1      ,pharsalia   
gave him ,rome4 ,egypt has since        
,receiv'd his yoke1 and the whole ,nile 
is ,csar's4      ,why should ,i mention 
,juba's overthrow1      ,and ,scipio's  
death8 ,numidia's burning sands         

,still smoke with blood4 ',tis time we  
should decree      ,what course to take4
 ,our foe advances on us1      ,and     
envies us ev'n ,lybia's sultry deserts4 
,fathers1 pronounce your thoughts4 ,are 
they still fix'd      ,to hold it out   
and fight it to the last8      ,or1 are 
your hearts subdu'd1 at length1 and     
wrought2      ,by time and ill success1 
to a submission8--      ,sempronius1    
speak4        ,,sempronius4--,my voice  
is still for war4      ,gods6 can a     
,roman senate long debate      ,which of
 the two to chuse1 slav'ry or death8    
,no--let us rise at once2 gird on our   
swords2      ,and1 at the head of our   
remaining troops1      ,attack the foe2 
break through the thick array      ,of  
his throng'd legions2 and charge home   
upon him4      ,perhaps1 some arm1 more 
lucky than the rest1      ,may reach his
 heart1 and free the world from bondage4
      ,rise1 ,fathers1 rise6 ',tis ,rome
 demands your help2      ,rise1 and     
revenge her slaughter'd citizens1       

,or share their fate6 ,the corpse of    
half her senate      ,manure the fields 
of ,thessaly1 while we      ,sit here1  
delib'rating' hi told debates1      ,if 
we should sacrifice our lives to honour1
      ,or wear them out in servitude and
 chains4      ,rouse up1 for shame3 ,our
 brothers of ,pharsalia      ,point at  
their wounds1 and cry aloud--to battle6 
,great ,pompey's shade complains that we
 are flow2      ,and ,scipio's ghost    
walks unreveng'd amongst us6            
,,cato4--,let not a torrent of impetuous
 zeal      ,transport thee thus beyond  
the bounds of reason4      ,true        
fortitude is seen in great exploits1    
,that justice warrants1 and that wisdom 
guides2      ,all else is tow'ring      
frenzy and distraction4      ,are not   
the lives of those who draw the sword   
,in ,rome's defence1 entrusted to our   
care8      ,should we thus lead them to 
a field of slaughter1      ,might not   
th' impartial world1 with reason1 say   
,we lavish'd1 at our deaths1 the blood  

of thousands2      ,to grace our fall1  
and make our ruin glorious8             
,lucius1 we next would know what's your 
opinion4        ,,lucius4--,my thoughts1
 ,i must confess1 are turn'd on peace1  
,already have our quarrels fill'd the   
world      ,with widows and with        
orphans4 ,scythia mourns      ,our      
guilty wars1 and earth's remotest       
regions      ,lie half unpeopled by the 
feuds of ,rome4      ',tis time to      
sheathe the sword1 and spare mankind1   
,it is not ,csar1 but the gods1 my      
fathers6      ,the gods declare against 
us1 and repel      ,our vain attempts4  
,to urge the foe to battle1             
7,prompted by a blind revenge and wild  
despair7      ,were1 to refuse th'      
awards of providence1      ,and not to  
rest in heav'n's determination4         
,already have we shewn our love to      
,rome2      ,now1 let us shew submission
 to the gods4      ,we took up arms not 
to revenge ourselves1      ,but free the
 commonwealth4 ,when this end fails1    

,arms have no further use4 ,our         
country's cause1      ,that drew our    
swords1 now wrests them from our hands1 
,and bids us not delight in ,roman blood
      ,unprofitably shed4 ,what men     
could do      ,is done already4 ,heav'n 
and earth will witness1      ,if ,rome  
must fall1 that we are innocent4        
,,cato--,let us appear1 not rash1 nor   
diffident1      ,immoderate valour      
swells into a fault2      ,and fear1    
admitted into public councils1          
,betray like treason4 ,let us shun 'em  
both4--      ,father's1 ,i cannot see   
that our affairs      ,are grown thus   
desp'rate4 ,we have bulwarks round us2  
,within our walls1 are troops inur'd to 
toil      ,in ,afric heats1 and season'd
 to the sun4      ,numidia's spacious   
kingdom lies behind us1      ,ready to  
rise at its young prince's call4        
,while there is hope1 do not distrust   
the gods3      ,but wait1 at least1 till
 ,csar's near approach      ,force us to
 yield4 ',twill never be too late       

,to sue for chains1 and own a conqueror4
      ,why should ,rome fall a moment   
ere her time8      ,no--let us draw our 
term of freedom out      ,in its full   
length1 and spin it to the last3        
,so shall we gain still one day's       
liberty4      ,and1 let me perish1 but1 
in ,cato's judgment1      ,a day1 an    
hour1 of virtuous liberty1      ,is     
worth a whole eternity of bondage4      
,,cato1 solus1 sitting in a thoughtful  
posture3 ,in his hand ,plato's book  on 
the immortality of the soul4 ,a drawn   
sword on the table by him4        ,it   
must be so--,plato1 thou reason'st      
well6--      ,else1 whence this pleasing
 hope1 this fond desire1      ,this     
longing after immortality8      ,or     
whence this secret dread1 and inward    
horror1      ,of falling into nought8   
,why shrinks the soul      ,back on     
herself1 and startles at destruction8   
',tis the divinity that stirs within us2
      ',tis heav'n itself1 that points  
out--an hereafter1      ,and            

intimates--eternity to man4             
,eternity6--thou pleasing--dreadful     
thought6      ,through what variety of  
untry'd beings1      ,through what new  
scenes and changes must we pass6        
,the wide1 th' unbounded prospect lies  
before me--      ,but shadows1 clouds1  
and darkness rest upon it4--      ,here 
will ,i hold4 ,if there's a pow'r above 
us1      7,and that there is all nature 
cries aloud      ,through all her works7
 he must delight in virtue2      ,and   
that which he delights in must be happy4
      ,but1 when6 or where6 this        
world--was made for ,csar4      ,i'm    
weary of conjectures--this must end 'em4
                      ,laying his hand  
on his sword4        ,thus am ,i doubly 
arm'd2 my death and life1      ,my bane 
and antidote are both before me3        
,this1 in a moment1 brings me to an end2
      ,but this informs me ,i shall     
never die4      ,the soul1 secur'd in   
her existence1 smiles      ,at the drawn
 dagger1 and defies its point4      ,the

 stars shall fade away1 the sun himself 
,grow dim with age1 and nature sink in  
years2      ,but thou shalt flourish in 
immortal youth1      ,unhurt amid the   
war of elements1      ,the wrecks of    
matter2 and the crush of worlds4        
,what means this heaviness that hangs   
upon me8      ,this lethargy that creeps
 through all my senses8      ,nature    
oppress'd1 and harrass'd out with care2 
,sinks down to rest4 ,this once ,i'll   
favour her2      ,that my awaken'd soul 
may take her flight1      ,renew'd in   
all her strength1 and fresh with life2  
,an offering fit for ,heav'n4 ,let guilt
 or fear      ,disturb man's rest2 ,cato
 knows neither of 'em2      ,indiff'rent
 in his choice1 to sleep or die4        
,,hamlet',s ,,meditation ,,on ,,death4  
,to be--or not to be6--that is the      
question4--      ,whether 'tis nobler in
 the mind1 to suffer      ,the stings   
and arrows of outrageous fortune2       
,or to take arms against a siege of     
troubles1      ,and1 by opposing1 end   

them8--,to die--to sleep--      ,no     
more2--and1 by a sleep1 to say we end   
,the heart-ache1 and the thousand       
natural shocks      ,that flesh is heir 
to--'tis a consummation      ,devoutly  
to be wish'd4 ,to die--to sleep--       
,to sleep--perchance to dream--aye1     
there's the rub4--      ,for1 in that   
sleep of death what dreams may come2    
,when we have shuffled off this mortal  
coil2      ,must give us                
pause4--,there's the respect      ,that 
makes calamity of so long a life        
,for1 who would bear the whips and      
scorns o' th' time1      ,th'           
oppressor's wrong1 the proud man's      
contumely1      ,the pangs of despis'd  
love1 the law's delay1      ,the        
insolence of office1 and the spurns     
,that patient merit of the unworthy     
takes2      ,when he himself might his  
quietus make      ,with a bare bodkin8  
,who would fardels bear1      ,to groan 
and sweat under a weary life2      ,but 
that the dread of something after death 

7,that undiscover'd country1 from whose 
bourne      ,no traveller returns7      
puzzles the will2      ,and makes us    
rather bear those ills we have1         
,than fly to others that we know not of2
      ,thus conscience does make cowards
 of us all2      ,and thus the native   
hue of resolution      ,is sicklied o'er
 with the pale cast of thought2         
,and enterprizes of great pith and      
moment1      ,with this regard1 their   
currents turn away1      ,and lose the  
name of action4          ,,select       
,,passages ,,from ,,dramatic ,,writers1 
,,expressive ,,of ,,the ,,principal     
,,emotions ,,and ,,passions4            
,,joy4        ,then is ,orestes blest6  
,my griefs are fled6      ,fled like a  
dream6 ,methinks ,i tread in air6--     
,surprising happiness6 unlook'd for joy6
      ,never let love despair6 ,the     
prize is mine6--      ,be smooth1 ye    
seas6 and1 ye propitious winds1         
,blow from ,epirus to the ,spartan      
coast6          ,,grief4        ,i'll   

go2 and in the anguish of my heart---   
,weep o'er my child--,if he must die1 my
 life      ,is wrapt in his2 ,i shall   
not long survive4      ',tis for his    
sake that ,i have suffer'd life2        
,groan'd in captivity2 and outliv'd     
,hector4--      ,yes1 my ,astyanax6     
we'll go together2      ,together--to   
the realms of night we'll go4           
,,pity4        ,hadst thou but seen1 as 
,i did1 how1 at last1      ,thy         
beauties1 ,belvidera1 like a wretch     
,that's doom'd to banishment1 came      
weeping forth1      ,whilst two young   
virgins1 on whose arms she lean'd1      
,kindly look'd up1 and at her grief grew
 sad6      ,e'en the lewd rabble1 that  
were gather'd round      ,to see the    
sight1 stood mute when they beheld her1 
,govern'd their roaring throats--and    
grumbled pity4          ,,fear4         
,come on1 ,sir1--here's the place--stand
 still1--      ,how fearful 'tis to cast
 one's eyes so low6      ,the crows and 
coughs1 that whig the midway air1       

,shew scarce so gross as beetles4 ,half 
way down1      ,hangs one that gathers  
samphire--dreadful trade6      ,methinks
 he seems no bigger than one's head1    
,the fishermen1 that walk upon the      
beach1      ,appear like mice2 and yon  
tall anchoring bark      ,seems lesson'd
 to a cock2 her cock1 a buoy            
,almost too small for fight4 ,the       
murmuring surge2      ,that on th'      
unnumbered idle pebbles chases1         
,cannot be heard so high4--,i'll look no
 more1      ,lest my brain turn and the 
disorder make me      ,tumble down      
headlong4          ,,awe ,,and ,,fear4  
,now1 all is hush'd and still as death--
      ,how reverend is the face of this 
tall pile1      ,whose ancient pillars  
rear their marble heads1      ,to bear  
aloft its arch'd and pond'rous roof1    
,by its own weight made stedfast and    
immoveable1      ,looking tranquillity6 
,it strikes an awe      ,and terror on  
my aking sight4 ,the tombs1      ,and   
monumental caves of death look cold1    

,and shoot a chillness to my trembling  
heart4      ,give me thy hand1 and let  
me hear thy voice--      ,nay1 quickly  
speak to me1 and let me hear      ,thy  
voice--my own affrights me with its     
echoes4          ,,horror4              
,hark6--the death-denouncing trumpet    
founds      ,the fatal charge1 and      
shouts proclaim the onset4              
,destruction rushes dreadful to the     
field1      ,and bathes itself in blood4
 ,havock1 let loose4      ,now1         
undistinguish'd1 rages all around2      
,while ,ruin1 seated on her dreary      
throne1      ,sees the plain strew'd1   
with subjects truly her's1              
,breathless and cold4          ,,anger4 
,hear me1 rash man2 on thy allegiance   
hear me1      ,since thou hast striven  
to make us break our vow1      ,which1  
nor our nature1 nor our place can bear1 
,we banish thee forever from our sight  
,and kingdom4 ,if1 when three days are  
expir'd1      ,thy hated trunk be found 
in our dominions1      ,that moment is  

thy death---,away6          ,,revenge4  
,if it will feed nothing else1 it will  
feed my revenge4 ,he hath      disgraced
 me1 and hindered me of half a million2 
laughed at my      losses1 mocked at my 
gains1 scorned my nation1 thwarted my   
bargains1      cooled my friends1 heated
 mine enemies4 ,and what's his          
reason--,i am      a ,jew4 ,hath not a  
,jew eyes8 hath not a ,jew hands1       
organs1      dimensions1 senses1        
affections1 passions8 ,is he not fed    
with the      same food1 hurt with the  
same weapons1 subject to the same       
diseases1      healed by the same means1
 warmed and cooled by the same winter   
and      summer1 as a ,christian is8 if 
you prick us do we not bleed8 ,if you   
tickle us1 do we not laugh8 ,if you     
poison us1 do we not die8 ,and1 if      
you wrong us--shall we not revenge8 ,if 
we are like you in the rest1      we    
will resemble you in that4 ,if a ,jew   
wrong a ,christian1 what is      his    
humility8--,revenge4 ,if a ,christian   

wrong a ,jew1 what should his           
sufferance be by ,christian             
example8---,why1 revenge4 ,the villainy 
you      teach me1 ,i will execute2 and 
it shall go hard1 but ,i will better    
the instruction4          ,,admiration4 
,what find ,i here8      ,fair ,portia's
 counterfeit8--,what demi-god      ,hath
 come so near creation6 ,move these     
eyes6      ,or1 whether1 riding on the  
balls of mine1      ,seem they in       
motion8--,here are sever'd lips1        
,parted with sugar breath3 so sweet a   
bar      ,should sunder such sweet      
friends4--,here1 in her hair1      ,the 
painter plays the spider1 and hath woven
      ,a golden mesh1 t' entrap the     
hearts of men      ,falter than gnats in
 cobwebs4--,but her eyes--      ,how    
could he see to do them6 having made    
one1      ,methinks it should have power
 to steal both his1      ,and leave     
itself unfinish'd6                      
,,haughtiness4        ,make thy demands 
to those that own thy power6      ,know1

 ,i am still beyond thee4 ,and tho'     
fortune      ,has strip'd me of this    
train1 this pomp of greatness2          
,this outside of a king1 yet still my   
soul1      ,fix'd high1 and on herself  
alone dependant1      ,is ever free and 
royal3 and1 even now1      ,as at the   
head of battle--does defy thee6         
,,contempt4        ,away6 no woman could
 descend so low1      ,a skipping1      
dancing1 worthless tribe you are2       
,fit only for yourselves4 ,you herd     
together2      ,and when the circling   
glass warms your vain hearts1      ,you 
talk of beauties that you never saw1    
,and fancy raptures that you never knew4
          ,,resignation4        ,yet1   
yet endure--nor murmur1 ,o my foul6     
,for1 are not thy transgressions great  
and numberless8      ,do they not cover 
thee1 like rising floods8      ,and     
press then1 like a weight of waters1    
down8      ,does not the hand of        
righteousness afflict thee8      ,and   
who shall plead against it8 who shall   

say      ,to ,pow'r ,almighty1 ,thou    
hast done enough2      ,or bid his      
dreadful rod of vengeance it stay8--    
,wait1 then1 with patience1 till the    
circling hours      ,shall bring the    
time of thy appointed rest      ,and lay
 thee down in death4                    
,,impatience4        ,oh6 rid me of this
 torture1 quickly there1      ,my       
,madam1 with the everlasting voice4     
,the bells1 in time of pestilence1 ne'er
 made      ,like noise1 or were in that 
perpetual motion4                       
---------------------------------,all my
 house1      ,but now1 steam'd like a   
bath1 with her thick breath1      ,a    
lawyer could not have been heard1 nor   
scarce      ,another woman1 such a hail 
of words      ,she has let fall4        
,,remorse ,,and ,,despair4              
,henceforth1 let no man trust the first 
false step      ,of guilt4 ,it hangs    
upon a precipice1      ,whose deep      
descent in last perdition ends4         
,how far am ,i plung'd down1 beyond all 

thought      ,which ,i this evening     
fram'd--      ,consummate horror6 guilt 
beyond1 a name6--      ,dare not1 my    
soul1 repent4 ,in thee1 repentance      
,were second guilt2 and 'twere          
blaspheming ,heav'n      ,to hope for   
mercy4 ,my pain can only cease          
,when gods want power to                
punish4--,ha6--the dawn--      ,rise    
never more1 ,o fun6--let night prevail3 
,eternal darkness close the world's wide
 scene--      ,and hide me from myself4 
,,distraction4        ,mercy6--,i know  
it not--for ,i am miserable4      ,i'll 
give thee misery--for here she dwells1  
,this is her house--where the sun never 
dawns3      ,the bird of night sits     
screaming o'er the roof2      ,grim     
spectres sweep along the horrid gloom2  
,and nought in heard1 but wailings and  
lamenting4      ,hark6--something cracks
 above2--it shakes--it totters6         
,and see--the nodding ruin falls to     
crush me6--      ',tis fallen--',tis    
here6--,i feel it on my brain6      ,a  

waving flood of bluish fire swells o'er 
me6      ,and now 'tis out--and ,i am   
drown'd in blood4--      ,ha6 what art  
thou8 thou horrid headless trunk6--     
,it is my ,hastings--,see1 he wafts me  
on6      ,away ,i go6--,i fly6--,i      
follow thee6          ,,gratitude4      
,my ,father6 ,oh6 let me unlade my      
breast2      ,pour out the fullness of  
my soul before you2      ,shew ev'ry    
tender1 ev'ry grateful thought1         
,this wond'rous goodness stirs4 ,but    
'tis impossible1      ,and utt'rance all
 is vile2 since ,i can only      ,swear 
you reign here1 but never tell how much4
          ,,intreaty4        ,reward him
 for the noble deed1 just ,heavens6     
,for this one action1 guard him1 and    
distinguish him      ,with signal       
mercies1 and with great deliverance1    
,save him from wrong1 adversity1 and    
shame1      ,let never-fading honours   
flourish round him2      ,and consecrate
 his name2 ev'n to time's end4      ,let
 him know nothing else1 but good on     

earth      ,and everlasting blessedness 
hereafter4          ,,commanding4       
,silence1 ye winds6      ,that make     
outrageous war upon the ocean3      ,and
 then1 old ocean8 lull thy boist'rous   
waves4      ,ye warring elements6 be    
hush'd as death1      ,while ,i impose  
my dread commands on hell4      ,and    
thou1 profoundest hell6 whose dreary    
sway1      ,is given to me by fate and  
demogorgon--      ,hear1 hear my        
powerful voice1 through all thy regions 
,and from thy gloomy caverns thunder the
 reply4          ,,courage4        ,a   
generous few1 the vet'ran hardy         
gleanings      ,of many a hapless fight1
 with a1 fierce      ,heroic fire1      
inspirited each other3      ,resolv'd on
 death1 disdaining to survive           
,their dearest country4 ,if we fall1 ,i 
cry'd1      ,let us not tamely fall1    
like passive cowards6      ,no--let us  
live1 or let us die--like men6          
,come on1 my friends4 ,to ,alfred we    
will cut      ,our glorious way3 or as  

we nobly perish1      ,will offer to the
 genius of our country--      ,whole    
hecatombs of ,danes4 ,as if one soul    
,have mov'd them all1 around their heads
 they flash'd      ,their flaming       
falchions--lead us to those ,danes6     
,our ,country6--,vengeance6 was the     
general cry4          ,,boasting4       
,i will tell you1 ,sir1 by the way of   
private1 and under seal4 ,i am a        
gentleman2 and live here1 obscure1 and  
to myself2 but1 were ,i known      to   
his ,majesty1 and the ,lords1 observe   
me1 ,i would undertake1 upon      this  
poor head and life1 for the public      
benefit or the state1 not      only to  
spare the entire lives of his subjects  
in general1 but to      save the one    
half1 nay three parts of his yearly     
charge1 in holding      war1 and against
 what enemy soever4 ,and how would ,i do
 it1 think      you8 ,why thus1 ,sir4 ,i
 would select nineteen more to myself1  
throughout the land2 gentlemen they     
should be2 of good spirit1      strong  

and able constitution4 ,i would chuse   
them by an instinct that      ,i have4  
,and ,i would teach these nineteen1 the 
special rules2 as your      ,punto1 your
 ,reverso1 your ,stoccaio1 your         
,imbroccato1 your ,passada1      your   
,montonto2 till they could all play very
 near1 or altogether1 as      well as   
myself4 ,this done1 say the enemy were  
forty thousand strong4      ,we twenty1 
would come into the field the tenth of  
,march or      thereabouts2 and we would
 challenge twenty of the enemy2 they    
could      not1 in their honour refuse  
us3 ,well1 we would kill them2 challenge
      twenty more1 kill them3 twenty    
more1 kill them3 twenty more1 kill      
them too4 ,and thus1 would we kill1     
every man1 his twenty a day2      that's
 twenty score2 twenty score2 that's two 
hundred2 two hundred      a day2 five   
days1 a thousand3 forty thousand--forty 
times five--five      times forty--two  
hundred days kill them all up by        
computation4 ,and      this ,i will     

venture my poor gentleman-like carcase  
to perform      7provided there by no   
treason practised upon7 by fair and     
discreet      manhood2 that is1 civilly 
by the sword4          ,,perplexity4    
--,let me think--      ,what can this   
mean--,is it to me aversion8      ,or is
 it1 as ,i feared1 she loves another8   
,ha6 yes--perhaps the king1 the young   
count ,tancred8      ,they were bred up 
together--surely that1      ,that cannot
 be--,has he not given his hand1        
,in the most solemn manner1 to          
,constantia8      ,does not his crown   
depend upon the deed8      ,no--if they 
lov'd1 and this old statesman knew it1  
,he could not to a king prefer a        
subject4      ,his virtues ,i           
esteem--nay more1 ,i trust them--       
,so far as virtue goes--but could he    
place      ,his daughter on the throne  
of ,sicily--      ,o6 'tis a glorious   
bribe2 too much for man6      ,what is  
it then6--,i care not what it is4       
,,suspicion4        ,would he were      

fatter--but ,i fear him not4      ,yes1 
if my name were liable to fear1      ,i 
do not know the man ,i should avoid1    
,so soon as that spare ,cassius4 ,he    
reads much--      ,he is a great        
observer--and he looks      ,quite      
through the deeds of men4      ,he loves
 no plays3 he hears no music4           
,seldom he smiles2 and smiles in such a 
sort1      ,as if he mock'd himself1 and
 scorn'd his spirit1      ,that could be
 moved to smile at any thing4      ,such
 men as he be never at heart's ease1    
,whilst they behold a greater than      
themselves--      ,and1 therefore1 are  
they very dangerous4          ,,wit     
,,and ,,humour4      ,a good            
sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation  
in it4 ,it ascends me into  the brain4  
,dries me there1 all-the foolish1 dull1 
and crudy vapours  which environ it3    
makes it apprehensive1 quick1 inventive2
 full of  nimble1 fiery1 and delectable 
shapes1 which1 delivered over to the    
voice1 the tongue1 which is the birth1  

becomes excellent wit--,the second      
property of your excellent sherris1 is1 
the warming of the blood2 which1        
before1 cold and settled1 left the liver
 white and pale3 which is the  badge of 
pusillanimity and cowardice4 ,but the   
sherris warms it1 and  makes its course 
from the inwards to the parts extreme4  
,it illuminateth  the face1 which1 as a 
beacon1 gives warning to all the rest of
 this  little kingdom1 man1 to arm2 and 
then1 the vital commoners1 and inland   
petty spirits1 muster me all to their   
captain1 the heart2 who1 great1  and    
puffed up with this retinue1 doth any   
deed of courage--and this  value comes  
of sherris4 ,so that skill in the       
weapon1 is nothing without  sack2 for   
that sets it a-work2 and learning1 a    
mere hoard of gold kept  by a devil1    
till sack commences it1 and sets it in  
act and use4 ,hereof  comes it that     
,prince ,harry is valiant2 for the cold 
blood he did  naturally inherit of his  
father1 he hath1 like lean1 steril1 and 

bare  land1 manured1 husbanded1 and     
tilled1 with drinking good1 and good    
store  of fertile sherris--,if ,i had a 
thousand sons1 the first human principle
  ,i would teach them1 should be--to    
foreswear thin potations1 and to  addict
 themselves to sack4        ,a plague on
 all cowards1 ,i say1 and a vengeance   
too1 marry      and amen6 ,give me a cup
 of sack1 boy--,ere ,i lead this life   
long1      ,i'll sew nether socks and   
mend them1 and foot them too4 ,a plague 
on all cowards6 ,give me a cup of sack1 
rogue4 ,is there no virtue      extant8 
,drinks4        ,you rogue6 here's lime 
in this sack too4 ,there is nothing but 
roguery to be found in villainous man4  
,yet a coward is worse      than a cup  
of sack with lime in it---,go thy ways1 
old ,jack6 die      when thou wilt1 if  
manhood1 good manhood1 be not forgot    
upon      the face of the earth1 then   
a'nt ,i a shotten herring4 ,there lives 
not three good men unhanged in ,england2
 and one of them is      fat1 and grows 

old1 ,god help the while6--,a plague on 
all cowards1      ,i say still6---,give 
me a cup of sack4  ,drinks4        ,i am
 a rogue if ,i were not at half-sword   
with a dozen of them      two hours     
together4 ,i have escaped by miracle4 ,i
 am eight      times thrust through the 
doublet2 four through the hose2 my      
buckler cut through and through2 my     
sword hacked like a hand-saw--ecce      
signum6 ,i never dealt better since ,i  
was a man4 ,all      would not do4 ,a   
plague on all cowards6--,but ,i have    
peppered      two of them2 two1 ,i am   
sure ,i have paid2 two rogues in buckram
      suits4 ,i tell thee what1 if ,i   
tell thee a lie1 spit in my face2       
call me a horse4--,thou knowest my old  
ward4 ,here ,i lay2 and      thus ,i    
bore my point4--,four rogues in buckram 
let drive at me4      ,these four came  
all afront1 and mainly thrust at me4 ,i 
made no      more ado1 but took all     
their seven points in my target1 thus4  
,then1 these nine in buckram1 that ,i   

told thee of1 began to give      me     
ground4 ,but ,i followed them close2    
came in foot and hand2      and1 with a 
thought--seven of these eleven ,i       
paid4--,a plague on      all cowards1   
say ,i6--,give me a cup of sack4        
,drinks4          ,,ridicule4        ,i 
can as well be hanged1 as tell the      
manner of it2 it was mere               
foolery4--,i saw ,mark ,antony offer him
 a crown2 and1 as ,i told you1      he  
put it by once--but1 for all that1 to my
 thinking1 he would fain      have had  
it4 ,then he offered it to him again2   
then1 he put it by      again--but1 to  
my thinking1 he was very loth to lay his
 fingers off      it4 ,and then he      
offered it a third time2 he put it the  
third time      by2 and still as he     
refused it1 the rabblement shouted1 and 
clapt      their chopt hands1 and threw 
by their sweaty night-caps1 and uttered 
such a deal of stinking breath1 because 
,csar refused the crown1      that it   
had almost choaked ,csar1 for he        

swooned1 and1 fell down at      it2 and 
for mine own part1 ,i durst not laugh   
for fear of opening my      lips1 and   
receiving the bad air4        ,before he
 fell down1 when he perceived the common
 herd were glad1 he      refused the    
crown1 he plucked me ope his doublet1   
and offered them      his throat to cut3
 an' ,i had been a man of any           
occupation1 if ,i      would not have   
taken him at a word1 ,i would ,i might  
go to hell among      the rogues6--and  
so he fell4 ,when he came to himself    
again1 he said1      if he had done1 or 
said any thing amiss1 he desired their  
worships      to think it was his       
infirmity4 ,three or four wenches where 
,i stood1      cried1 ,alas1 good       
soul6--and forgave him with all their   
hearts4 ,but      there's no heed to be 
taken of them3 if ,csar had stabbed     
their      mothers they would have done 
no less4          ,,perturbation4       
,vengeance6 death6 plague6 confusion6   
,fiery6 what quality8---,why1 ,gloster1 

,gloster6      ,i'd speak with the ,duke
 of ,cornwall and his wife3      ,the   
,king would speak with ,cornwall---the  
dear father      ,would with his        
daughter speak2 commands her service4   
,are they inform'd of this8---,my breath
 and blood6      ,fiery6 the fiery      
,duke6 ,tell the hot ,duke--      ,no'  
but not yet3 may be he is not well3     
,i beg his pardon3 and ,i'll chide my   
rashness1      ,that took the indisposed
 and sickly fit4      ,for the sound    
man1---,but wherefore sits he there8--  
,death on my state6 this act convinces  
me1      ,that this retiredness of the  
,duke and her      ,is plain            
contempt--,give me my servant forth--   
,go tell the ,duke and's wife ,i'd speak
 with 'em3      ,now3 instantly--,bid   
'em come forth and hear me2      ,or1 at
 their chamber-door1 ,i'll beat the     
drum--      ',till it cry--,sleep to    
death4          ,elements of ,gesture4  
,,section ,i4    ,on the ,speaking of   
,speeches at ,schools4      ,elocution  

has1 for some years past1 been an object
 of attention in the  most respectable  
schools in this country4 ,a laudable    
ambition of  instructing youth in the   
pronunciation and delivery of their     
native  language1 has made ,english     
speeches a very conspicuous part of     
those  exhibitions of oratory which do  
them so much credit4    ,this attention 
to ,english pronunciation has induced   
several ingenious  men to compile       
,exercises in ,elocution for the use of 
schools1 which have  answered very      
useful purposes2 but none1 so far as ,i 
have seen1 have  attempted to give us a 
regular system of gesture suited to the 
wants and  capacities of school-boys4   
,mr4 ,burgh1 in his ,art of ,speaking1  
has given  us a system of the passions1 
and has shewn us how they appear in the 
countenance1 and operate on the body2   
but this system1 however useful to      
people of riper years1 is too delicate  
and complicated to be taught in         
schools4 ,indeed1 the exact adaptation  

of the action to the word1 and the  word
 to the action1 as ,shakespear calls it1
 is the most difficult part  of         
delivery1 and therefore can never be    
taught perfectly to children2 to  say   
nothing of distracting their attention  
with two difficult things at  the same  
time4 ,but that boys should stand       
motionless1 while they are  pronouncing 
the most impassioned language1 is       
extremely absurd and  unnatural2 and    
that they should sprawl into an aukward1
 ungain1 and  desultory action1 is still
 more offensive and disgusting4 ,what   
then  remains1 but that such a general  
style of action be adopted1 as shall be 
easily conceived and easily executed1   
which1 though not expressive of  any    
particular passion1 shall not be        
inconsistent with the expression of  any
 passion2 which shall always keep the   
body in a graceful position1  and shall 
so vary its motions2 at proper          
intervals1 as to seem the  subject      
operating on the speaker1 and not the   

speaker on the subject4  ,this1 it will 
be confessed1 is a great desideratum2   
and an attempt to do  this1 is the      
principal object of the present         
publication4    ,the difficulty of      
describing action by words1 will be     
allowed by every  one2 and if we were   
never to give any instructions but such 
as should  completely answer our wishes1
 this difficulty would be a good reason 
for  not attempting to give any         
description of it4 ,but there are many  
degrees  between conveying a precise    
idea of a thing1 and no idea at all4    
,besides1 in this part of delivery1     
instruction may be conveyed by the  eye2
 and this organ is a much more rapid    
vehicle of knowledge than the  ear4     
,this vehicle is addressed on the       
present1 occasion1 and plates1          
representing the attitudes which are    
described1 are annexed to the  several  
descriptions1 which it is not doubted   
will greatly facilitate  the reader's   
conception4    ,the first plate         

represents the attitude in which a boy  
should always  place himself when he    
begins to speak4 ,he should rest the    
whole weight  of his body on the right  
leg2 the other1 just touching the       
ground1 at  the distance at which it    
would naturally fall1 if lifted up to   
shew that  the body does not bear upon  
it4 ,the knees should be strait and     
braced1  and the body1 though perfectly 
strait1 not perpendicular1 but inclining
  as far to the right as a firm position
 on the right leg will permit4 ,the     
right arm must then be held out with the
 palm open1 the fingers straight  and   
close1 the thumb almost as distant from 
them as it will go1 and the  flat of the
 hand neither horizontal nor vertical1  
but exactly between  both4 ,the position
 of the arm perhaps will be best        
described by  supposing an oblong hollow
 square1 formed by the measure of four  
arms1  as in plate the first1 where the 
arm in its true position forms the      
diagonal of such an imaginary figure4   

,so that1 if lines were drawn at  right 
angles from the shoulder1 extending     
downwards1 forwards1 and  sideways1 the 
arm will form a angle of forty-five     
degrees every way4    ,when the pupil   
has pronounced one sentence in the      
position thus  described1 the hand1 as  
if lifeless1 must drop down to the side1
 the  very moment the last accepted word
 is pronounced2 and the body1 without   
altering the place of the feet1 poise   
itself on the left leg1 while the  left 
hand rises itself into exactly the same 
position as the right  was before1 and  
continues in this position till tine end
 of the next  sentence1 when it drops   
down on the side1 as if dead2 and the   
body  poizing itself on the right leg as
 before1 continues with the right arm   
extended1 till the end of the succeeding
 sentence1 and so on from right  to     
left1 and from left to right            
alternately1 till the speech is ended4  
,illustration3 ,,plate ,i4              
,illustration3 ,,plate ,,ii4    ,great  

care must he taken that the pupil end   
one sentence completely1  before he     
begin another4 ,he must let the arm drop
 to the side1 and  continue for a moment
 in that posture in which he concluded1 
before he  poizes his body on the other 
leg1 and raises the other arm into the  
diagonal position before described2 both
 which should be done before he  begins 
to pronounce the next sentence4 ,care   
must also he taken in  shifting the body
 from one leg to the other1 that the    
feet do not alter  their distance4 ,in  
altering the position of the body1 the  
feet will  necessarily alter their      
position a little2 but this change must 
be made  by turning the toes in a       
somewhat different direction1 without   
suffering  them to shift their ground4  
,the heels1 in this transition1 change  
their  place1 but not the toes4 ,the    
toes may be considered as pivots1 on    
which  the body turns from side to side4
    ,if the pupil's knees are not well  
formed1 or incline inwards1 he must be  

taught to keep his legs at as great a   
distance as possible1 and to  incline   
his body so much to that side1 on which 
the arm is extended1 as  to oblige him  
to rest the opposite leg upon the toe2  
and this will1 in a  great measure1 hide
 the defect of his make4 ,in the same   
manner1 if the  arm be too long1 or the 
elbow incline inwards1 it will be proper
 to make  him turn the palm of his hand 
downwards1 so as to make it perfectly   
horizontal4 ,this will infallibly       
incline the elbow outwards1 and prevent 
the worst position the arm can possibly 
fall into1 which is that of  inclining  
the elbow to the body4 ,this position of
 the hand so  necessarily keeps the     
elbow out1 that it would not be improper
 to make  the pupil sometimes practice  
it1 though he may have no defect in his 
make2 as an occasional alteration of the
 former position to this1 may  often be 
necessary both for the sake of justness 
and variety4 ,these two  last positions 
of the legs and arms1 are described in  

plate second4    ,when the pupil has got
 the habit of holding his hand and arm  
properly1  he may be taught to move it4 
,in this motion he must be careful to   
keep  the arm from the body4 ,he must   
neither draw the elbow backwards1 nor   
suffer it to approach to the side1 bur1 
while the hand and lower joint  of the  
arm are curving towards the shoulder1   
the whole arm1 with the  elbow forming  
nearly an angle of a square1 should move
 upwards from the  shoulder1 in the same
 position as when gracefully taking off 
the hat2  that is1 with the elbow       
extended from the side1 and the upper   
joint of  the arm nearly on a line with 
the shoulder1 and forming an angle of a 
square with the body--7see plate ,,iii47
 ,this motion of the arm will  naturally
 bring the hand with the palm downwards1
 into an horizontal  position1 and when 
it approaches to the head1 the arm      
should with a jerk  be suddenly         
straitened into its first position1 at  
the very moment the  emphatical word is 

pronounced4 ,this coincidence of the    
hand and voice1  will greatly enforce   
the pronunciation2 and if they keep     
time1 they will  be in tune as it were  
to each other1 and to force and energy  
add harmony  and variety4    ,as this   
motion of the arm is somewhat           
complicated1 and may be found  difficult
 to execute1 it would be adviseable to  
let the pupil at first  speak without   
any motion of the arm at all4 ,after    
some time he will  naturally fall into a
 small curvature of the elbow1 to beat  
time1 as it  were1 to the emphatic word2
 and if1 in doing this1 he is constantly
  urged to raise the elbow1 and to keep 
it at a distance from the body1  the    
action of the arm will naturally grow up
 into that we have just  described4 ,so 
the diagonal position of the arm1 though
 the most graceful  and easy when the   
body is at rest1 may he too difficult   
for boys to fall  into at first2 and    
therefore it may be necessary1 in order 
to avoid the  worse extreme1 for some   

time to make them extend the arm as far 
from the  body as they can1 in a        
somewhat similar direction1 but higher  
from the  ground1 and inclining more to 
the back4 ,great care must be taken to  
keep  the hand open1 and the thumb at   
some distance from the fingers2 and     
particular attention must be paid to    
keeping the hand in the exact line  with
 the lower part of the arm1 so as not to
 bend at the wrist1 either  when it is  
held out without motion1 or when it     
gives the emphatic  stroke4 ,and above  
all1 the body must be kept in a straight
 line with the  leg on which it bears1  
and not suffered to bend to the opposite
 side4    ,illustration3 ,,plate ,,iii4 
,at first it may not be improper for the
 teacher1 after placing the pupil  in   
the position plate ,i4 to stand at some 
distance exactly opposite to  him in the
 same position1 the right and left sides
 only reversed1 and  while the pupil is 
speaking1 to show him by example the    
action he is to  make use of4 ,in this  

case the teacher's left hand will       
correspond for  the pupil's right1 by   
which means he will see as in a         
looking-glass1 how  to regulate his     
gesture1 and will soon catch the method 
of doing it by  himself4    ,it is      
expected the master will be a little    
discouraged at the aukward  figure his  
pupil makes in his first attempts to    
teach him4 ,but this is  no more than   
what happens in dancing1 fencing1 or any
 other exercise  which depends on habit4
 ,by practice1 the pupil will soon begin
 to feel  his position1 and be easy in  
it4 ,those positions which were at first
  distressing to him1 he will fall into 
naturally1 and if they are such as  are 
really graceful and becoming 7and such  
it is presumed are those  which have    
been just described7 they will be       
adopted with more facility  than any    
other that can be taught him4           
,,section ,,ii4    ,on the ,acting of   
,plays at ,school4      ,though the     
acting of plays at schools has been     

universally supposed a  very useful     
practice1 it has of late years been much
 laid aside4 ,the  advantages arising   
from it have not been judged equal to   
the  inconveniencies2 and the speaking  
of single speeches1 or the acting of    
single scenes1 has been generally       
substituted in its stead4 ,indeed when  
we consider the leading principle and   
prevailing sentiments of most  plays1 we
 shall not wonder that they are not     
always thought to be the  most suitable 
employment for youth at school2 nor1    
when we reflect on  the long            
interruption to the common              
school-exercises1 which the  preparation
 for a play must necessarily occasion1  
shall we think it  consistent with the  
general improvement3--,but1 to wave     
every objection  from prudence or       
morality1 it may be confidently         
affirmed1 that the  acting of a play is 
not so conducive to improvement in      
elocution1 as the  speaking of single   
speeches4    ,in the first place1 the   

acting of plays is of all kinds of      
delivery the  most difficult2 and       
therefore cannot be the most suitable   
exercise for  boys at school4 ,in the   
next place1 a dramatic performance      
requires so  much attention to the      
deportment of the body1 so varied an    
expression of  the passions1 and so     
strict an adherence to character1 that  
elocution is  in danger of being        
neglected3 ,besides1 exact propriety of 
action1 and a  nice discrimination of   
the passions1 however essential on the  
stage1 are  but of a secondary          
importance in a school4 ,it is plain1   
open1 distinct1  and forcible           
pronunciation which school-boys should  
aim at2 and not that  quick transition  
from one passion to another1 that       
archness of look1 and  that jeu de      
theatre1 as it is called1 so essential  
to a tolerable  dramatic exhibition1 and
 which actors themselves can scarcely   
arrive at4  ,in short1 it is speaking   
rather than acting which school-boys    

should be  taught1 while the performance
 of plays is calculated to teach them   
acting rather than speaking4    ,but    
there is a contrary extreme into which  
many teachers are apt to run1  and that 
is1 to condemn every thing which is     
vehement and forcible as  theatrical4   
,it is an old trick to depreciate what  
we can not attain1  and calling a       
spirited pronunciation theatrical1 is   
but an artful  method of hiding an utter
 inability of speaking with force and   
energy4  ,but though school-boys ought  
not to be taught those nice touches     
which  form the greatest difficulties in
 the profession of an actor1 they       
should not be too much restrained from  
an exertion of voice1 so  necessary to  
strengthening the organs of sound1      
because they may  sometimes be too loud 
and vociferous4 ,perhaps nine out of    
ten1 instead  of too much confidence1   
and too violent a manner of speaking1   
which  these teachers seem so much to   
dread1 have as ,dr4 ,johnson calls it1 a

  frigid equality1 a stupid languor1 and
 a torpid apathy4 ,these must be  roused
 by something strong and excessive1 or  
they will never rise even  to           
mediocrity2 while the few who have a    
tendency to rant1 are very  easily      
reclaimed2 and ought to be treated in   
pronunciation and action1  as           
,quintillion advises to do in           
composition2 that is1 we should rather  
allow of an exuberance1 than1 by too    
much correctness1 check the vigour  and 
luxuriancy of nature4    ,illustration3 
,,plate ,,iv4    ,though school-boys1   
therefore1 ought not to be taught the   
finesses of  acting1 they should as much
 as possible be accustomed to speak such
  speeches as require a full1 open1     
animated pronunciation3 for which       
purpose1 they should be confined chiefly
 to orations1 odes1 and such  single    
speeches of plays1 as are in the        
declamatory and vehement style4  ,but as
 there are many scenes of plays1 which  
are justly reckoned among  the finest   

compositions of the language1 some of   
these may be adopted  among the upper   
class of boys1 and those more           
particularly who have the  best         
deportment3 for action in scenes will be
 found much more difficult  than in     
single speeches4 ,and here it will be   
necessary to give some  additional      
instructions respecting action1 as a    
speaker who delivers  himself singly to 
an auditory1 and one who addresses      
another speaker in  view of an auditory1
 are under very different predicaments4 
,the first  has only one object to      
address1 the last has two3--,for if a   
speaker on  the stage were to address   
the person he speaks to1 without any    
regard to  the point of view in which he
 stands with respect to the audience1 he
  would be apt to turn his back on them1
 and to place himself in such  positions
 as would be highly ungraceful and      
disgusting4 ,when a scene1  therefore1  
is represented1 it is necessary that the
 two personages who  speak should form a

 sort of picture1 and place themselves  
in a position  agreeable to the laws of 
perspective4 ,in order to do this1 it   
will be  necessary that each of them    
should stand obliquely1 and chiefly make
 use  of one hand3 that is1 supposing   
the stage or platform where they stand1 
to be a quadrangle1 each speaker should 
respectively face that corner of  it    
next to the audience1 and use that hand 
and rest upon that leg which  is next to
 the person he speaks to1 and which is  
farthest from the  audience4 ,this      
disposition is absolutely necessary to  
form any thing  like a picturesque      
grouping of objects1 and without it1    
that is1 if both  speakers use the right
 hand1 and stand exactly fronting each  
other1 the  impropriety will be         
palpable1 and the spectacle disgusting4 
,it need scarcely be noted1 that the    
speaker in a scene uses that hand  which
 is next the audience1 he ought likewise
 to poize his body upon the  same leg3  
this is almost an invariable rule in    

action3 the hand should  act on that    
side only on which the body bears4 ,good
 actors and speakers  may sometimes     
depart from this rule1 but such only    
will know when to do  it with propriety4
    ,occasion may be taken in the course
 of the scene to change sides4 ,one     
speaker at the end of an impassioned    
speech1 may cross over to the place  of 
the other1 while the latter at the same 
moment crosses over to the  place of the
 former4 ,this1 however1 must be done   
with great care1 and so  as to keep the 
back from being turned to the audience3 
,but if this  transition be performed   
adroitly1 it will have a very good      
effect in  varying the position of the  
speakers1 and giving each an opportunity
 of  using his right hand--the most     
favourable to grace and expression4 ,and
  if from so humble a scene as the      
school1 we may be permitted to raise    
our observations to the senate1 it might
 be hinted1 that gentlemen on  each side
 of the house1 while addressing the     

chair1 can with grace and  propriety    
only make use of one hand2 namely1 that 
which is next to the  speaker2 and it   
may be observed in passing1 that to all 
the other  advantages of speaking1 which
 are supposed to belong to one side of  
the  house--may be added--the graceful  
use of the right hand4    ,the better to
 conceive the position of two speakers  
in a scene1 a plate  is given           
representing their respective attitudes2
 and it must be  carefully noted1 that  
when they are not speaking2 the arms    
must hang in  their natural place by the
 sides2 unless what is spoken by one is 
of  such importance1 as to excite       
agitation and surprize in the other4    
,but  if we should be sparing of gesture
 at all times1 we should be more        
particularly so when we are not         
speaking4    ,from what has been laid   
down1 it will evidently appear1 how much
 more  difficult and complicate is the  
action of a scene than that of a single 
speech2 and1 in teaching both to        

children1 how necessary it is to adopt  
as simple and easy a method as possible4
 ,the easiest method of conveying       
instruction in this point1 will be      
sufficiently difficult2 and  therefore1 
the avoiding of aukwardness and         
impropriety should be more  the object  
of instruction1 than the conveying of   
beauties4    ,there are indeed some     
masters who are against teaching boys   
any action  at all1 and are for leading 
them in this point entirely to nature4  
,it is  happy1 however1 that they do not
 leave that action to nature1 which is  
acquired by dancing2 the deportment of  
their pupils would soon convince  them  
they were imposed on by the sound of    
words4 ,improved and beautiful  nature  
is the object of the painter's pencil1  
the poet's pen1 and the  rhetorician's  
action1 and not that sordid and common  
nature1 which is  perfectly rude and    
uncultivated4 ,nature directs us to art1
 and art  selects and polishes the      
beauties of nature4 ,it is not          

sufficient for an  orator1 says         
,quintilian1 that he is a man3 he must  
be an improved and  cultivated man3 he  
must be a man favoured by nature and    
fashioned by  art4    ,but the necessity
 of adopting some method of teaching    
action1 is too  evident to need proof4  
,boys will infallibly contract some     
action2 to  require them to stand       
stock-still while they are speaking an  
impassioned  speech1 is not only        
exacting a very difficult task from     
them1 but is1 in  a great measure1      
checking their natural exertions4 ,if   
they are left to  themselves1 they will 
in all probability fall into very wild  
and  ungraceful action1 which1 when once
 formed into habit1 can scarcely ever   
be corrected3 giving them therefore a   
general out-line of good action1  must  
be of the utmost consequence to their   
progress and improvement in             
pronunciation4    ,the great use1       
therefore1 of a system of action like   
the present1 is1  that a boy will never 

be embarrassed for want of knowing what 
to do with  his legs and arms2 nor will 
he bestow that attention on his action1 
which ought to be directed to his       
pronunciation3 he will always be in a   
position which will not disgrace his    
figure2 and when this gesture is  easy  
to him1 it may serve as a ground-work to
 something more perfect3 he  may either1
 by his own genius or his master's      
instructions1 build some  other action  
upon it1 which may in time give it      
additional force and  variety4    ,thus1
 what seemed either unworthy the        
attention1 or too difficult for  the    
execution of others1 the author of the  
present publication hits  ventured to   
attempt4 ,a conviction of the necessity 
of leaching some  system of action1 and 
the abundant success of the present     
system in one  of the most respectable  
academies near ,london1 has determined  
him to  publish it1 for the use of such 
seminaries as make ,english             
pronunciation  a part of their          

discipline4    ,it may not be useless to
 observe1 that boys should be classed in
 this1  as in every other kind of       
instruction1 according to their         
abilities4  ,that a class should not    
consist of more than ten2 that about    
eight or  ten lines of some speech1     
should be read first by the teacher1    
then by  the boy who reads best2 and    
then by the rest in order1 all having a 
book  of the same kind1 and all reading 
the same portion4 ,this portion they    
must be ordered to get by heart against 
the next lesson2 and then the  first boy
 must speak it1 standing at some        
distance from the rest2 in the  manner  
directed in the plates2 the second boy  
must succeed him1 and so  on till they  
have all spoken4 ,after which another   
portion may be read to  them1 which they
 must read and speak in the same manner 
as before4 ,when  they have gone through
 a speech in this manner by portions1   
the two or  three first boys may be     
ordered1 against the next lesson1 to    

speak the  whole speech2 the next lesson
 two or three more1 and so on to the    
rest4  ,this will excite emulation1 and 
give the teacher an opportunity of      
ranking them according to their merits4 
,,section ,,iii4    ,rules for          
expressing with ,propriety1 the         
principal ,passions and ,humours  which 
occur in ,reading or public ,speaking4  
,every part of the human frame          
contributes to express the passions and 
emotions of the mind1 and to shew1 in   
general1 its present state4 ,the  head  
is sometimes erected1 sometimes hung    
down1 sometimes drawn suddenly  back    
with an air of disdain1 sometimes shews 
by a nod1 a particular  person or       
object2 gives assent or denial1 by      
different motions2  threatens by one    
sort of movement1 approves by another1  
and expresses  suspicion by a third4    
,the arms are sometimes both thrown out1
 sometimes the right alone4  ,sometimes 
they are lifted up as high as the face1 
to express wonder2  sometimes held out  

before the breast1 to shew fear2 spread 
forth with  the hands open to express   
desire or affection2 the hands clapped  
in  surprise1 and in sudden joy and     
grief2 the right hand clenched1 and the 
arms brandished1 to threaten2 the two   
arms set a-kimbo1 to look big1 and      
express contempt or courage4 ,with the  
hands1 we solicit1 we refuse1 we        
promise1 we threaten1 we dismiss1 we    
invite1 we in treat1 we express         
aversion1 fear1 doubting1 denial1       
asking1 affirmation1 negation1 joy1     
grief1 confession1 penitence4 ,with the 
hands we describe1 and point out  all   
circumstances of time1 place and manner 
of what we relate2 we excite  the       
passions of others1 and soothe them3 we 
approve and disapprove1  permit or      
prohibit1 admire or despise4 ,the hands 
serve us instead of  many sorts of      
words1 and where the language of the    
tongue is unknown1  that of the hands is
 understood1 being universal and common 
to all  nations4    ,the legs advance1  

or retreat1 to express desire1 or       
aversion1 love or  hatred1 courage or   
fear1 and produce exultation1 or leaping
 in sudden  joy2 and the stamping of the
 foot expresses earnestness1 anger1 and 
threatening4    ,especially the face1   
being furnished with a variety of       
muscles1 does  more in expressing the   
passions of the mind1 than the whole    
human frame  besides4 ,the change of    
colour 7in white people7 shews1 by      
turns1 anger  by redness1 and sometimes 
by paleness2 fear likewise by paleness1 
and  shame by blushing4 ,every feature  
contributes its part4 ,the mouth open1  
shews one state of the mind1 shut1      
another2 the gnashing of the teeth      
another4 ,the forehead smooth1 eyebrows 
arched and easy1 shew tranquility  or   
joy4 ,mirth opens the mouth towards the 
ears1 crisps the nose1 half  shuts the  
eyes1 and sometimes fills them with     
tears4 ,the front wrinkled  into frowns1
 and the eyebrows overhanging the eyes1 
like clouds fraught  with tempest1 shew 

a mind agitated with fury4 ,above all1  
the eye shews  the very spirit in a     
visible form4 ,in every different state 
of the mind1  it assumes a different    
appearance4 ,joy brightens and opens it4
 ,grief  half-closes1 and drowns it in  
tears4 ,hatred and anger1 flash from it 
like lightning4 ,love darts from it in  
glances1 like the orient beam4          
,jealousy1 and squinting envy1 dart     
their contagious blasts from the eye4   
,and devotion raises it to the skies1 as
 if the soul of the holy man were  going
 to take its flight to heaven4    ,the  
force of attitude and looks alone       
appears in a wonderously striking       
manner1 in the works of the painter and 
statuary1 who have the delicate  art of 
making the flat canvas and rocky marble 
utter every passion of  the human mind1 
and touch the soul of the spectator1 as 
if the picture1  or statue1 spoke the   
pathetic language of ,shakspear4 ,it is 
no wonder1  then1 that masterly action1 
joined with powerful elocution1 should  

be  irresistible4 ,and the variety of   
expression1 by looks and gestures1 is   
so great1 that1 as is well known1 a     
whole play can be represented  without a
 word spoken4    ,the following are1 ,i 
believe1 the principal passions1        
humours1  sentiments and intentions1    
which are to be expressed by speech and 
action4 ,and ,i hope it will be allowed 
by the reader1 that it is nearly  in the
 following manner1 that nature expresses
 them4    ,tranquility1 or apathy1      
appears by the composure of the         
countenance1  and general repose of the 
body and limbs1 without the exertion of 
any  one muscle4 ,the countenance open2 
the forehead smooth2 the eyebrows       
arched2 the mouth just not shut2 and the
 eyes passing with an easy  motion from 
object to object1 but not dwelling long 
upon any one4    ,cheerfulness1 adds a  
smile1 opening the mouth a little more4 
,mirth1 or laughter1 opens the mouth    
still more towards the ears2  crisps the
 nose2 lessens the aperture of the eyes1

 and sometimes fills  them with tears2  
shakes and convulses the whole frame1   
giving  considerable pain1 which        
occasions holding the sides4            
,raillery1 in sport1 without real       
animosity1 puts on the aspect of        
cheerfulness4 ,the tone of voice is     
sprightly4 ,with contempt1 or disgust1  
it casts a look asquint1 from time to   
time1 at the object2 and quits the      
cheerful aspect for one mixed between an
 affected grin and sourness--the  upper 
lip is drawn up with an air of disdain4 
,the arms are set a-kimbo  on the hips1 
and the right hand now and then thrown  
out toward the  object1 as if one were  
going to strike another a slight        
back-handed  blow4 ,the pitch of the    
voice rather loud1 the tone arch and    
sneering2  the sentences short2 the     
expressions satyrical1 with mock-praise 
intermixed4 ,there are instances of     
raillery in scripture itself1 as #a     
,kings xviii4 and ,isa4 xliv4 ,it is    
not1 therefore1 beneath the dignity  of 

the pulpit-orator1 occasionally to use  
it1 in the cause of virtue1 by          
exhibiting vice in a ludicrus           
appearance4 ,nor should ,i think        
raillery  unworthy the attention of the 
lawyer2 as it may occasionally come in1 
not unusefully1 in his pleadings1 as    
well as any other stroke of  ornament1  
or entertainment4    ,buffoonery assumes
 an arch1 sly1 leering gravity4 ,must   
not quit its  serious aspect1 though all
 should laugh to burst ribs of steel4   
,this  command of face is somewhat      
difficult1 though not so hard1 ,i should
  think1 as to restrain the contrary    
sympathy1 ,i mean of weeping with  those
 who weep4    ,joy1 when sudden and     
violent1 expresses itself by clapping of
 hands1  and exultation1 or leaping4    
,the eyes are opened wide2 perhaps      
filled  with tears2 often raised to     
heaven1 especially by devout persons4   
,the  countenance is smiling2 not       
composedly1 but with features           
aggravated4  ,the voice rises from time 

to time1 to very high notes4            
,delight1 or pleasure1 as when one is   
entertained1 or ravished with  music1   
painting1 oratory1 or any such elegancy1
 shews itself by the  looks1 gestures1  
and utterance of joy2 but moderated4    
,gravity1 or seriousness1 the mind fixed
 upon some important subject1  draws    
down the eyebrows a little2 casts down1 
or shuts1 or raises the  eyes to heaven2
 shuts the mouth1 and pinches the lips  
close4 ,the posture  of the body and    
limbs is composed1 and without much     
motion4 ,the speech1  if any1 slow and  
solemn2 the tone unvarying4    ,enquiry 
into an obscure subject1 fixes the body 
in one posture1 the  head stooping1 and 
the eye poring1 the eyebrows drawn down4
    ,attention to an esteemed1 or       
superior character1 has the same aspect1
  and requires silence2 the eyes often  
cast down upon the ground2  sometimes   
fixed on the face of the speaker2 but   
not too pertly4    ,modesty1 or         
submission1 bends the body forward2     

levels the eyes1 to  the breast1 if not 
to the feet1 of the superior character4 
,the voice  low2 the tone submissive2   
and words few4    ,perplexity1 or       
anxiety1 which is always attended with  
some degree of  fear and uneasiness1    
draws all the parts of the body         
together2 gathers  up the arms upon the 
breast1 unless one hand covers the eyes1
 or rubs  the forehead2 draws down the  
eyebrows2 hangs the head upon the       
breast2  casts down the eyes2 shuts and 
pinches the eye-lids close2 shuts the   
month1 and pinches the lips close1 or   
bites them4 ,suddenly the whole  body is
 vehemently agitated4 ,the person walks 
about busily2 stops  abruptly3 then he  
talks to himself1 or makes grimaces4 ,if
 he speaks to  another1 his pauses are  
very long2 the tone of his voice1       
unvarying1 and  his sentences broken1   
expressing half1 and keeping in half of 
what  arises in his mind4    ,vexation1 
occasioned by some real or imaginary    
misfortune1 agitates  the whole frame2  

and1 besides expressing itself with the 
looks1  gestures1 restlessness1 and tone
 of perplexity1 it adds complaint1      
fretting1 and lamenting4    ,pity1 a    
mixed passion of love and grief1 looks  
down upon distress with  lifted hands2  
eyebrows drawn down2 mouth open1 and    
features drawn  together4 ,its          
expression1 as to looks and gesture1 is 
the same with  those of suffering1 7see 
,suffering7 but more moderate1 as the   
painful  feelings are only sympathetic1 
and therefore one remove1 as it were1   
more distant from the soul1 than what   
one feels in his own person4    ,grief1 
sudden and violent1 expresses itself by 
beating the head2  groveling on the     
ground2 tearing of garments1 hair1 and  
flesh2 screaming  aloud1 weeping1       
stamping with the feet1 lifting the     
eyes1 from time to  time1 to heaven2    
hurrying to and fro1 running distracted1
 or fainting  away1 sometimes without   
recovery4 ,sometimes violent grief      
produces a  torpid silence1 resembling  

total apathy4    ,melancholy1 or fixed  
grief1 is gloomy1 sedentary1 motionless4
 ,the  lower jaw falls2 the lips pale2  
the eyes are cast down1 half shut1      
eye-lids swelled and red1 or livid1     
tears trickling silent1 and unwiped2    
with a total inattention to every thing 
that passes4 ,words1 if any1 few1  and  
those dragged out1 rather than spoken2  
the accents weak1 and  interrupted1     
sighs breaking into the middle of       
sentences and words4    ,despair1 as in 
a condemned criminal1 or one who has    
lost all hope of  salvation1 bends the  
eyebrows downward2 clouds the forehead2 
roils the  eyes around frightfully2     
opens the mouth towards the ears2 bites 
the  lips2 widens the nostrils2 gnashes 
with the teeth1 like a fierce wild      
beast4 ,the heart is too much hardened  
to suffer tears to flow2 yet the        
eye-balls will be red and inflamed1 like
 those of an animal in a rabid  state4  
,the head is hung down upon the breast4 
,the arms are bended at the  elbows1 the

 fists are clenched hard2 the veins and 
muscles swelled2 the  skin livid2 and   
the whole body strained and violently   
agitated2 groans1  expressive of inward 
torture1 more frequently uttered than   
words4 ,if any  words1 they are few1 and
 expressed with a sullen1 eager         
bitterness2 the  tone of voice often    
loud and furious4 ,as it often drives   
people to  distraction1 and self-murder1
 it can hardly be over-acted by one who 
would represent it4    ,fear1 violent   
and sudden1 opens very wide the eyes and
 mouth2 shortens  the nose2 draws down  
the eyebrows2 gives the countenance an  
air of  wildness2 covers it with a      
deadly paleness2 draws back the elbows  
parallel with the sides2 lifts up the   
open hands1 the fingers together1  to   
the height of the breast1 so that the   
palms face the dreadful object1  as     
shields opposed against it4 ,one foot is
 drawn back behind the other1  so that  
the body seems shrinking from the       
danger1 and putting itself in  a posture

 for flight4 ,the heart beats violently2
 the breath is fetched  quick and short2
 the whole body is thrown into a general
 tremor4 ,the  voice is weak and        
trembling2 the sentences are short1 and 
the meaning  confused and incoherent4   
,imminent danger1 real or fancied1      
produces in  timorous persons1 as women 
and children1 violent shrieks1 without  
any  articulate sound of words2 and     
sometimes irrecoverably confounds the   
understanding2 produces fainting1 which 
is sometimes followed by death4         
,shame1 or a sense of one's appearing to
 a disadvantage1 before one's           
fellow-creatures2 turns away the face   
from the beholders1 covers it with      
blushes1 hangs the head1 casts down the 
eyes1 draws down the eyebrows1  either  
strikes the person dumb1 or1 if he      
attempts to say any thing in  his own   
defence1 causes his tongue to faulter1  
and confounds his  utterance1 and puts  
him upon making a thousand gestures and 
grimaces1 to  keep himself in           

countenance2 all of which only heighten 
the confusion of  his appearance4       
,remorse1 or a painful sense of guilt2  
casts down the countenance1 and  clouds 
it with anxiety2 hangs down the head1   
draws the eyebrows down  upon the eyes2 
the right hand beats the breast2 the    
teeth gnash with  anguish2 the whole    
body is strained and violently agitated4
 ,if this  strong remorse is succeeded  
by the more gracious disposition of     
penitence1 or contrition1 then the eyes 
are raised 7but with great  appearance  
of doubting and fear7 to the throne of  
heavenly mercy2 and  immediately cast   
down again to the earth4 ,then floods of
 tears are seen  to flow4 ,the knees are
 bended1 or the body prostrated on the  
ground4 ,the  arms are spread in a      
suppliant posture1 and the voice of     
deprecation is  uttered with sighs1     
groans1 timidity1 hesitation and        
trembling4    ,courage1 steady1 and     
cool1 opens the countenance1 gives the  
whole form  an erect and graceful air4  

,the accents are strong1 full-mouthed   
and  articulate1 the voice firm and     
even4    ,boasting1 or affected courage1
 is loud1 blustering1 threatening4 ,the 
eyes stare2 the eyebrows draw down2 the 
face red and bloated2 the mouth  pouts  
out2 the voice hollow and thundering2   
the arms are set a-kimbo2  the head     
often nodding in a menacing manner2 and 
the right fist1  clenched1 is           
brandished1 from time to time1 at the   
person threatened4  ,the right foot is  
often stamped upon the ground1 and the  
legs take such  large strides1 and the  
steps are so heavy1 that the earth seems
 to  tremble under them4    ,pride1     
assumes a lofty look1 bordering upon the
 aspect and attitude of  anger4 ,the    
eyes open1 but with the eyebrows        
considerably drawn down2 the  mouth     
pouting out1 mostly shut1 and the lips  
pinched close4 ,the words  walk out     
a-strut1 with a slow1 stiff bombastic   
affectation of  importance4 ,the arms   
generally a-kimbo1 and the legs at a    

distance from  one another1 taking large
 tragedy strides4    ,obstinacy adds to 
the aspect of pride1 a dodged sourness1 
like that of  malice4 ,see ,malice4     
,authority1 opens the countenance1 but  
draws down the eyebrows a  little1 so   
far as to give the look of gravity4 ,see
 ,gravity4    ,commanding requires an   
air a little more peremptory1 with a    
look a  little severe or stern4 ,the    
hand is held out1 and moved toward the  
person to whom the order is given1 with 
the palm upwards1 and the head  nods    
towards him4    ,forbidding1 on the     
contrary1 draws the head backwards1 and 
pushes the  hand from one with the palm 
downward1 as if going to lay it upon the
  person1 to hold him down immoveable1  
that he may not do what is  forbidden   
him4    ,affirming1 especially with a   
judicial oath1 is expressed by lifting  
the open right hand and eyes toward     
heaven2 or if conscience is appealed    
to1 by laying the right hand upon the   
breast4    ,denying is expressed by     

pushing the open right hand from one1   
and  turning the face the contrary way4 
,see ,aversion4    ,differing in        
sentiment may be expressed as refusing4 
,see ,refusing4    ,agreeing in opinion1
 or ,conviction1 as granting4 ,see      
,granting4    ,exhorting1 as by a       
general at the head of his army1        
requires a kind1  complacent look2      
unless matter of offence has passed1 as 
neglect of  duty1 or the like4          
,judging demands a grave1 steady look1  
with deep attention2 the  countenance   
altogether clear from any appearance of 
either disgust or  favour4 ,the accents 
slow1 distinct1 emphatical1 accompanied 
with little  action1 and that very      
grave4    ,reproving puts on a stern    
aspect1 roughens the voice1 and is      
accompanied with gestures not much      
different from those of  ,threatening1  
but not so lively4    ,acquitting is    
performed with a benevolent1 tranquil   
countenance and  tone of voice2 the     
right hand1 if not both1 open1 waved    

gently toward  the person acquitted1    
expressing dismission4 ,see ,dismissing4
    ,condemning assumes a severe look1  
but mixed with pity4 ,the sentence is   
to be expressed as with reluctance4     
,teaching1 explaining1 inculcating1 or  
giving orders to an inferior1  requires 
an air of superiority to be assumed4    
,the features are to be  composed of an 
authoritative gravity4 ,the eye steady1 
and open1 the  eye-brow a little drawn  
down over it2 but not so much as to look
 surly  or dogmatical4 ,the tone of     
voice varying according as the emphasis 
requires1 of which a good deal is       
necessary in expressing matter of this  
sort4 ,the pitch of the voice to be     
strong and clear2 the articulation      
distinct2 the utterance slow1 and the   
manner peremptory4 ,this is the  proper 
manner of pronouncing the commandments  
in the communion office4  ,but 7,i am   
sorry to say it7 they are too commonly  
spoken in the same  manner as the       
prayers1 than which nothing can be more 

unnatural4    ,pardoning differs from   
acquitting1 in that the latter means    
clearing a  person1 after trial1 of     
guilt2 whereas the former supposes      
guilt1 and  signifies merely delivering 
the guilty person from punishment4      
,pardoning  requires some degree of     
severity of aspect and tone of voice1   
because  the pardoned person is not an  
object of entire unmixed approbation2   
otherwise its expression is much the    
same as granting4 ,see ,granting4       
,arguing requires a cool1 sedate1       
attentive aspect1 and a clear1 slow1    
emphatical accent1 with much            
demonstration by the hand4 ,it differs  
from  teaching 7see ,teaching7 in that  
the look of authority is not wanting  in
 arguing4    ,dismissing1 with          
approbation1 is done with a kind aspect 
and tone of  voice2 the right hand open1
 gently waved toward the person4 ,with  
displeasure1 besides the look and tone  
of voice which suits displeasure1  the  
hand is hastily thrown out toward the   

person dismissed1 the back  part toward 
him1 the countenance at the same time   
turned away from him4    ,refusing1 when
 accompanied with displeasure1 is       
expressed nearly in  the same way4      
,without displeasure1 it is done with a 
visible reluctance1  which occasions the
 bringing out the words slowly1 with    
such a shake of  the head1 and shrug of 
the shoulders1 as is natural upon       
hearing of  somewhat which gives us     
concern4    ,granting1 when done with   
unreserved good-will1 is accompanied    
with a  benevolent aspect and tone of   
voice2 the right hand pressed to the    
left  breast1 to signify how heartily   
the favour is granted1 and the          
benefactor's joy in conferring it4      
,dependence4 ,see ,modesty4             
,veneration1 or ,worshipping1           
comprehends several articles1 as        
ascription1 confession1 remorse1        
intercession1 thanksgiving1             
deprecation1 petition1 c4 ,ascription of
 honour and praise to the  peerless1    

supreme ,majesty of ,heaven1 and        
confession and deprecation1 are  to be  
uttered with all that humility of looks 
and gesture1 which can  exhibit the most
 profound self-abasement1 and           
annihilation1 before ,one2  whose       
superiority is infinite4 ,the head is a 
little raised1 but with  the most       
apparent timidity and dread2 the eye is 
lifted1 but immediately  cast down      
again1 or closed for a moment2 the      
eyebrows are drawn down in  the most    
respectful manner2 the features1 and the
 whole body and limbs1  are all composed
 to the most profound gravity2 one      
posture continuing1  without            
considerable change1 during the whole   
performance of the duty4  ,the knees    
bended1 or the whole body prostrate1 or 
if the posture be  standing1 which      
scripture does not disallow1 bending    
forward1 as ready  to prostrate itself4 
,the arms spread out1 but modestly1 as  
high as the  breast2 the hands open4    
,the tone of the voice will be          

submissive1 timid1  equal trembling1    
weak1 suppliant4 ,the words will be     
brought out with a  visible anxiety and 
diffidence1 approaching to hesitation2  
few and slow2  nothing of vain          
repetition1 haranguing1 flowers of      
rhetoric1 or affected  figures of       
speech2 all simplicity1 humility1 and   
lowliness1 such as  becomes a reptile of
 the dust1 when presuming to address    
,him1 whose  greatness is tremenduous   
beyond all created conception4 ,in      
intercession  for our fellow creatures1 
which is prescribed in the scriptures1  
and in  thanksgiving1 the countenance   
will naturally assume a small degree of 
cheerfulness beyond what it was clothed 
with in confession of sin1 and          
deprecation of punishment4 ,but all     
affected ornament of speech1 or  gesture
 in devotion1 deserves the severest     
censure1 as being somewhat  much worse  
than absurd4    ,respect for a superior1
 puts on the looks and gesture of       
modesty4 ,see  ,modesty4    ,hope       

brightens the countenance2 arches the   
eyebrows2 gives the eyes an  eager1     
wishful look2 opens the mouth to half a 
smile2 bends the body a  little forward1
 the feet equal2 spreads the arms1 with 
the hands open1  as to receive the      
object of its longings4 ,the tone of the
 voice is eager  and unevenly1 inclining
 to that of joy1 but curbed by a degree 
of doubt  and anxiety4 ,desire differs  
from hope as to expression1 in this     
particular1 that there is more          
appearance of doubt and anxiety in the  
former than in the latter4 ,for it is   
one thing to desire what is  agreeable1 
and another to have a prospect of       
actually obtaining it4    ,desire       
expresses itself by bending the body    
forward1 and stretching  the arms toward
 the object1 as to grasp it4 ,the       
countenance smiling1 but  eager and     
wishful2 the eyes wide open1 and        
eyebrows raised2 the mouth  open2 the   
tone of voice suppliant1 but lively and 
cheerful1 unless there  be distress as  

well as desire2 the expressions fluent  
and copious3 if no  words are used1     
sighs instead of them2 but this is      
chiefly in distress4    ,love           
7successful7 lights up the countenance  
into smiles4 ,the forehead  is smoothed 
and enlarged2 the eyebrows are arched2  
the mouth a little  open1 and smiling2  
the eyes languishing1 and half shut1    
doat upon the  beloved object4 ,the     
countenance assumes the eager and       
wishful look of  desire1 7see ,desire   
above7 but mixed with an air of         
satisfaction and  repose4 ,the accents  
are soft and winning2 the tone of voice 
persuasive1  flattering1 pathetic1      
various1 musical1 rapturous1 as in joy4 
7,see  ,joy47 ,the attitude much the    
same with that of desire4 ,sometimes    
both  hands pressed eagerly to the      
bosom4 ,love1 unsuccessful1 adds an air 
of  anxiety and melancholy4 ,see        
,perplexity and ,melancholy4    ,giving1
 ,inviting1 ,soliciting4 and such-like  
actions1 which suppose  some degree of  

affection1 real or pretended1 are       
accompanied with much  the same looks   
and gestures as express love1 but more  
moderate4    ,wonder1 or ,amazement1    
7without any other interesting passion1 
as  ,love1 ,esteem1 c47 opens the eyes1 
and makes them appear very  prominent2  
sometimes raises them to the skies2 but 
oftener1 and more  expressively1 fixes  
them on the object1 if the cause of the 
passion be a  present and visible       
object1 with the look1 all except the   
wildness1 of  fear4 7,see ,fear47 ,if   
the hands hold any thing1 at the time   
when the  object of wonder appears1 they
 immediately let it drop1 unconscious1  
and  the whole body fixes in the        
contracted1 stooping posture of         
amazement2  the mouth open2 the hands   
held up open1 nearly in the attitude of 
fear4  7,see ,fear47 ,the first excess  
of this passion stops all utterance2 but
  it makes amends afterwards by a       
copious flow of words1 and exclamations4
    ,admiration1 a mixed passion1       

consisting of wonder1 with love or      
esteem1 takes away the familiar gesture 
and expression of simple love4  7,see   
,love47 ,keeps the respectful look and  
gesture4 7,see ,modesty and             
,veneration47 ,the eyes are opened wide1
 and now and then raised toward  heaven4
 ,the mouth is opened4 ,the hands are   
lifted up4 ,the tone of the  voice      
rapturous4 ,this passion expresses      
itself copiously1 making great  use of  
the figure hyperbole4    ,gratitude puts
 on an aspect full of complacency4 7,see
 ,love47 ,if the  object of it is a     
character greatly superior1 it expresses
 much  submission4 7,see ,modesty47 ,the
 right hand pressed upon the breast1    
accompanies1 very properly1 the         
expression of a sincere and hearty      
sensibility of obligation4              
,curiosity1 as of a busy-body1 opens the
 eyes and mouth1 lengthens the  neck1   
bends the body forward1 and fixes it in 
one posture1 with the  hands nearly in  
that of admiration4 ,see ,admiration4   

,see also ,desire1  ,attention1 ,hope1  
,enquiry1 and ,perplexity4              
,persuasion puts on the looks of        
moderate love4 7,see ,love47 ,its       
accents are soft1 flattering1 emphatical
 and articulate4    ,tempting1 or       
,wheedling1 expresses itself much in the
 same way1 only  carrying the fawning   
part to excess4    ,promising is        
expressed with benevolent looks1 the nod
 of consent1 and  the open hands gently 
moved towards the person to whom the    
promise is  made1 the palms upwards4    
,the sincerity of the promiser may be   
expressed  by laying the right hand     
gently on the breast4    ,affectation   
displays itself in a thousand different 
gestures1 motions1  airs and looks1     
according to the character which the    
person affects4  ,affectation of        
learning gives a stiff formality to the 
whole person4 ,the  words come stalking 
out with the pace of a funeral          
procession1 and every  sentence has the 
solemnity of an oracle4 ,affectation of 

piety turns up  the goggling whites of  
the eyes to heaven1 as if the person    
were in a  trance1 and fixes them in    
that posture so long that the brain of  
the  beholder grows giddy4 ,then comes  
up1 deep grumbling1 a holy groan from   
the lower parts of the thorax2 but so   
tremendous in sound1 and so long        
protracted1 that you expect to see a    
goblin rise1 like an exhalation  through
 the solid earth4 ,then he begins to    
rock from side to side1 or  backward and
 forward1 like an aged pine on the side 
of a hill1 when a  brisk wind blows4    
,the hands are clasped together1 and    
often lifted1 and  the head often shaken
 with foolish vehemence4 ,the tone of   
the voice is  canting1 or sing-song     
lullaby1 not much distant from an ,irish
 howl1 and  the words godly doggrell4   
,affectation of beauty1 and killing1    
puts a  fine woman by turns into all    
sorts of forms1 appearances and         
attitudes1  but amiable ones4 ,she      
undoes by art1 or rather by aukwardness1

 7for true  art conceals itself7 all    
that nature had done for her4 ,nature   
formed her  almost an angel1 and she1   
with infinite pains1 makes herself a    
monkey4  ,therefore1 this species of    
affectation is easily imitated1 or taken
 off4  ,make as many and as ugly        
grimaces1 motions and gestures as can be
 made1  and take care that nature never 
peep out1 and you represent coquetish   
affectation to the life4    ,sloth      
appears by yawning1 dosing1 snoring2 the
 head dangling sometimes  to one side1  
sometimes to the other2 the arms and    
legs stretched out1  and every sinew of 
the body unstrung2 the eyes heavy1 or   
closed2 the  words1 if any1 crawl out of
 the mouth but half formed1 scarcely    
audible  to any ear1 and broken off in  
the middle by powerful sleep4    ,people
 who walk in their sleep 7of which our  
inimitable ,shakespear has1  in his     
tragedy of ,,macbeth1 drawn out a fine  
scene7 are said to have  their eyes     
open2 though they are not1 the more for 

that1 conscious of  any thing1 but the  
dream which has got possession of their 
imagination4  ,i never saw one of those 
persons1 therefore cannot describe their
 manner  from nature2 but ,i suppose    
their speech is pretty much like that of
  persons dreaming1 inarticulate1       
incoherent1 and very different1 in its  
tone1 from what it is when waking4      
,intoxication shews itself by the eyes  
half shut1 sleepy1 stupid1  inflamed4   
,an idiot smile1 a ridiculous surliness1
 an affected bravado1  disgraces the    
bloated countenance4 ,the mouth open    
tumbles out nonsense  in heaps1 without 
articulation enough for any ear to take 
it in1 and  unworthy of attention1 if it
 could be taken ,in4 ,the head seems too
 heavy  for the neck4 ,the arms dangle  
from the shoulders2 as if they were     
almost  cut away1 and hung by shreds4   
,the legs totter and bend at the knees1 
as  ready to sink under the weight of   
the reeling body4 ,and a general        
incapacity1 corporeal and mental1       

exhibits human nature sunk below the    
brutal4    ,anger1 7violent7 or ,rage   
expresses itself with rapidity1         
interruption1 noise1 harshness1 and     
trepidation4 ,the neck stretched  out2  
the head forward1 often nodding and     
shaken in a menacing manner1  against   
the object of the passion4 ,the eyes    
red1 inflamed1 staring1  rolling1 and   
sparkling2 the eyebrows drawn down over 
them2 and the  forehead wrinkled into   
clouds4 ,the nostrils stretched wide2   
every vein  swelled2 every muscle       
strained2 the breast heaving1 and the   
breath  fetched hard4 ,the mouth open1  
and drawn on each side toward the ears1 
shewing the teeth in a gnashing posture4
 ,the face bloated1 pale1 red1 or       
sometimes almost black4 ,the feet       
stamping3 the right arm often thrown    
out1 and menacing with the clenched fist
 shaken1 and a general end  violent     
agitation of the whole body4            
,peevishism or ,ill-nature is a lower   
degree of anger2 and is  therefore      

expressed in the above manner1 only more
 moderate1 with half  sentences1 and    
broken speeches1 uttered hastily2 the   
upper lip drawn up  disdainfully2 the   
eyes asquint upon the object of         
displeasure4    ,malice or ,spite1 sets 
the jaws1 or gnashes with the teeth2    
sends  blasting flashes from the eyes2  
draws the mouth toward the ears2        
clenches both fists1 and bends the      
elbows in a straining manner4 ,the  tone
 of voice and expression1 are much the  
same with that of anger2 but  the pitch 
not so loud4    ,envy is a little more  
moderate in its gestures than malice1   
but much  the same in kind4    ,revenge 
expresses itself as malice4    ,cruelty4
 ,see ,anger1 ,aversion1 ,malice and the
 other irrascible  passions4            
,complaining as when one is under       
violent bodily pain1 distorts the       
features2 almost closes the eyes2       
sometimes raises them wishfully2 opens  
the mouth2 gnashes with the teeth2 draws
 up the upper lip2 draws down  the head 

upon the breast1 and the whole body     
together4 ,the arms are  violently bent 
at the elbows1 and the fists strongly   
clenched4 ,the voice  is uttered in     
groans1 lamentations1 and violent       
screams4 ,extreme torture  produces     
fainting1 and death4    ,fatigue from   
severe labour1 gives a general languor  
to the whole body4  ,the countenance is 
dejected4 7,see ,grief47 ,the arms hang 
listless2 the  body 7if sitting or lying
 along be not the posture7 stoops1 as in
  old-age4 7,see ,dotage47 ,the legs1 if
 walking1 are dragged heavily  along1   
and seem at every step ready to bend    
under the weight of the  body4 ,the     
voice is weak1 and the words hardly     
enough articulated to be  understood4   
,aversion1 or ,hatred1 expressed to1 or 
of any person or thing1 that  is odious 
to the speaker1 occasions his drawing   
back1 as avoiding the  approach of what 
he hates2 the hands1 at the same time1  
thrown out  spread1 as if to keep it    
off4 ,the face turned away from that    

side toward  which the hands are thrown 
out2 the eyes looking angrily and       
asquint the  same way the hands are     
directed2 the eyebrows drawn downwards2 
the upper  lip disdainfully drawn up2   
but the teeth set4 ,the pitch of the    
voice  loud2 the tone chiding1 unequal1 
surly1 vehement4 ,the sentences short   
and abrupt4    ,commendation1 or        
,approbation from a superior1 puts on   
the aspect of  love 7excluding desire   
and respect7 and expresses itself in a  
mild tone  of voice2 the arms gently    
spread2 the palms of the hands toward   
the  person approved4 ,exhorting or     
encouraging1 as of an army by a general1
  is expressed with some part of the    
looks and action of courage4            
,jealousy would be likely to be well    
expressed by one1 who had often  seen   
prisoners tortured in the dungeons of   
the inquisition1 or who had  seen what  
the dungeons of the inquisition are the 
best earthly emblem  of2 ,i mean ,hell4 
,for next to being in the ,pope's or in 

,satan's prison1  is the torture of him 
who is possessed with the spirit of     
jealousy4  ,being a mixture of passions 
directly contrary to one another1 the   
person1 whose soul is the seat of such  
confusion and tumult1 must be in  as    
much greater misery than ,prometheus1   
with the vulture tearing his  liver1 as 
the pains of the mind are greater than  
those of the body4  ,jealousy is a      
ferment of love1 hatred1 hope1 fear1    
shame1 anxiety1  suspicion1 grief1 pity1
 envy1 pride1 rage1 cruelty1 vengeance1 
madness1  and if there be any other     
tormenting passion which can agitate the
 human  mind4 ,therefore to express     
jealousy well1 requires that one know   
how to  represent justly all these      
passions by turns1 7see ,love1 ,hatred1 
c47 and often several of them together4 
,jealousy shews itself by  restlessness1
 peevishness1 thoughtfulness1 anxiety1  
absence of mind4  ,sometimes it bursts  
out in piteous complaint and weeping2   
then a gleam  of hope1 that all is yet  

well1 lights up the countenance into a  
momentary smile4 ,immediately the face1 
clouded with a general gloom1  shews the
 mind overcast again with horrid        
suspicions and frightful  imaginations4 
,then the arms are folded upon the      
breast2 the fists  violently clenched2  
the rolling1 bloody eyes dart fury4 ,he 
hurries to  and fro2 he has no more rest
 than a ship in a troubled sea1 the     
sport of  winds and waves4 ,again1 he   
composes himself a little to reflect on 
the  charms of the suspected person4    
,she appears to his imagination like the
  sweetness of the rising dawn4 ,then   
his monster-breeding fancy represents   
her as false as she is fair4 ,then he   
roars out as one on the rack1 when  the 
cruel engine rends every joint1 and     
every sinew bursts4 ,then he  throws    
himself on the ground4 ,he beats his    
head against the pavement4  ,then he    
springs up1 and with the look and action
 of a fury bursting hot  from the abyss1
 he snatches the instrument of death1   

and1 after ripping  up the bosom of the 
loved1 suspected1 hated1 lamented1 fair 
one1 he  stabs himself to the heart1 and
 exhibits a striking proof1 how terrible
  a creature a puny mortal is1 when     
agitated by an infernal passion4        
,dotage or infirm old age1 shews itself 
by talkativeness1 boasting of  the past1
 hollowness of the eyes and cheeks1     
dimness of sight1 deafness1  tremor of  
voice1 the accents1 through default of  
teeth1 scarce  intelligible2 hams weak1 
knees tottering1 head paralytic1 hollow 
coughing1 frequent expectoration1       
breathless wheezing1 laborious          
groaning1 the body stooping under the   
insupportable load of years1 which  soon
 shall crush it into the dust1 from     
whence it had its origin4    ,folly1    
that is1 of a natural ideot1 gives the  
face an habitual  thoughtless1 brainless
 grin4 ,the eyes dance from object to   
object1  without ever fixing steadily   
upon any one4 ,a thousand different and 
incoherent passions1 looks1 gestures1   

speeches and absurdities1 are  played   
off every moment4    ,distraction opens 
the eyes to a frightful wideness1 rolls 
them hastily  and wildly from object to 
object2 distorts every feature2 gnashes 
with  the teeth2 agitates all parts of  
the body2 rolls in the dust2 foams at   
the mouth2 utters1 with hideous         
bellowings1 execrations1 blasphemies1   
and all that is fierce and outrageous1  
rushes furiously on all who  approach2  
and1 if not restrained1 tears its own   
fiesh1 and destroys  itself4            
,sickness has infirmity and feebleness  
in every motion and utterance4  ,the    
eyes dim1 and almost closed2 cheeks pale
 and hollow2 the jaw fallen2  the head  
hung down1 as if too heavy to be        
supported by the neck4 ,a  general      
inertia prevails4 ,the voice trembling2 
the utterance through the  nose2 every  
sentence accompanied with a groan2 the  
hand shaking1 and the  knees tottering  
under the body2 or the body stretched   
helpless on the  bed4    ,fainting      

produces a sudden relaxation of all that
 holds the human  frame together1 every 
sinew and ligament unstrung4 ,the colour
 flies from  the vermilion cheek2 the   
sparkling eye grows dim4 ,down the body 
drops1  as helpless1 and senseless1 as a
 mass of clay1 to which1 by its colour  
and appearance1 it seems hastening to   
resolve itself--,which leads me to      
conclude with3    ,death the awful end  
of all flesh2 which exhibits nothing in 
appearance  different from what ,i have 
been just describing2 for fainting      
continued  ends in death1--a subject    
almost too serious to be made a matter  
of  artificial imitation4    ,lower     
degrees of every passion are to be      
expressed by more moderate  exertions of
 voice and gesture2 as every public     
speaker's discretion  will suggest to   
him4    ,mixed passions1 or emotions of 
the mind1 require a mixed expression4   
,pity1 for example1 is composed of grief
 and love4 ,it is therefore  evident1   
that a correct speaker must1 by his     

looks and gestures1 and by  the tone and
 pitch of his voice1 express both grief 
and love1 in  expressing pity1 and so of
 the rest4    ,it is to be remembered1  
that the action1 in expressing the      
various  humours and passions1 for which
 ,i have here given rules1 is to be     
suited  to the age1 sex1 condition1 and 
circumstances of the character4 ,violent
  anger1 or rage1 for example1 is to be 
expressed with great agitation2  7see   
,anger7 but the rage of an infirm old   
man1 of a woman1 and of a  youth1 are   
all different from one another1 and from
 that of a man in the  flower of his    
age1 as every speaker's discretion will 
suggest4 ,a hero  may shew fear1 or     
sensibility of pain2 but not in the same
 manner as a  girl would express those  
sensations4 ,grief may be expressed by a
 person  reading a melancholy story or  
description of a room4 ,it may be acted 
upon the stage4 ,it may be dwelt upon by
 the pleader at the bar2 or it  may have
 a place in a sermon4 ,the passion is   

still grief4 ,but the manner  of        
expressing it will be different in each 
of the speakers1 if they have  judgment4
    ,a correct speaker does not make a  
movement of limb1 or feature1 for  which
 he has not a reason4 ,if he addresses  
heaven1 he looks upward4 ,if  he speaks 
to his fellow-creatures1 he looks round 
upon them4 ,the spirit  of what he says1
 or is said to him1 appears in his look4
 ,if he expresses  amazement1 or would  
excite it1 he lifts up his hands and    
eyes4 ,if he  invites to virtue and     
happiness1 he spreads his arms1 and     
looks  benevolent4 ,if he threatens the 
vengeance of heaven against vice1 he    
bends his eye-brow into wrath and       
menaces with his arm and countenance4   
,he does not needlessly saw the air with
 his arm1 nor stab himself with  his    
finger4 ,he does not clap his right hand
 upon his breast1 unless he  has        
occasion to speak of himself1 or to     
introduce conscience1 or  somewhat      
sentimental4 ,he does not start back1   

unless he wants to express  horror or   
aversion4 ,he does not come forward1 but
 when he has occasion  to solicit4 ,he  
does not raise his voice1 but to express
 somewhat  peculiarly emphatical4 ,he   
does not lower it1 but to contrast the  
raising  of it4 ,his eyes1 by turns1    
according to the humour of the matter he
 has  to express1 sparkle fury1 brighten
 into joy1 glance disdain1 melt into    
grief1 frown disgust and hatred1        
languish into love1 or glare            
distraction4          ,on ,reading and  
,speaking4    ,,from ,,blair',s         
,,lectures4      ,the first object of a 
reader or speaker1 is1 to be clearly    
understood by  his hearers4 ,in order   
for this1 it is necessary that he should
 pronounce  his words distinctly1 and   
deliberately2 that he should carefully  
avoid  the two extremes of uttering     
either too fast1 or too slow2 and that  
his  tone of voice should be perfectly  
natural4    ,a reader or speaker should 
endeavor to acquire a perfect command of

 his  voice2 so as neither to stun his  
hearers by pitching it upon too high a  
key2 nor tire their patience by obliging
 them to listen to sounds which  are    
scarcely audible4 ,it is not the loudest
 speaker1 who is always the  best       
understood2 but he who pronounces upon  
that key which fills the  space occupied
 by the audience4 ,that pitch of voice1 
which is used in  ordinary conversation1
 is usually the best for a public       
speaker4    ,early attention ought to be
 paid to the pauses2 but the rules for  
these  are so indefinite and arbitrary1 
and so difficult to be comprehended1    
that long experience is necessary in    
order to acquire a perfect  knowledge of
 their use4 ,with regard to the length  
of the several pauses1  no precise rules
 can be given4 ,this1 together with the 
variety of tones  which accompany them1 
depends much upon the nature of the     
subject4    ,perhaps nothing is of more 
importance to a reader or speaker1 than 
a  proper attention to accent1 emphasis1

 and cadence4 ,every word in our        
language1 of more than one syllable1    
has1 at least1 one accented  syllable4  
,this syllable ought to be rightly      
known1 and the word should  be          
pronounced by the reader or speaker in  
the same manner as he would  pronounce  
it in ordinary conversation4    ,by     
emphasis1 we distinguish those words in 
a sentence which we esteem  the most    
important1 by laying a greater stress of
 voice upon them than  we do upon the   
others4 ,and it is surprising to observe
 how the sense of  a phrase may be      
altered by varying the emphasis4 ,the   
following example  will serve as an     
illustration4    ,this short question1  
,will you ride to town to-day8 may be   
understood  in four different ways1 and 
consequently1 may receive four different
  answers1 according to the placing of  
the emphasis4    ,if it be pronounced   
thus2 ,will you ride to town to-day8 the
 answer may  properly be1 no2 ,i shall  
send my son4 ,if thus2 ,will you ride to

 town  to-day2 ,answer1 no2 ,i intend to
 walk4 ,will you ride to town to-day8   
,no2 ,i shall ride into the country4    
,will you ride to town to-day8 ,no2  but
 ,i shall to-morrow4    ,this shows how 
necessary it is that a reader or speaker
 should know  where to place his        
emphasis4 ,and the only rule for this   
is1 that he  study to attain a just     
conception of the force and spirit of   
the  sentiments which he delivers4      
,there is as great a difference between 
one  who lays his emphasis properly1 and
 one who pays no regard to it1 or       
places it wrong1 as there is between one
 who plays on an instrument with  a     
masterly hand1 and the most bungling    
performer4    ,cadence is the reverse of
 emphasis4 ,it is a depression or       
lowering of  the voice2 and commonly    
falls upon the last syllable in a       
sentence4 ,it  is varied1 however1      
according to the sense4 ,when a question
 is asked1 it  seldom falls upon the    
last word2 and many sentences require no

 cadence  at all4    ,in addition to    
what has been said1 it is of great      
importance to attend  particularly to   
tones and gestures4 ,to almost every    
sentiment we utter1  more especially1 to
 every strong emotion1 nature has       
adapted some  peculiar tone of voice4   
,and we may observe1 that every man1    
when he is  much in earnest in common   
discourse1 when he is speaking on some  
subject  which interests him nearly1 has
 an eloquent or persuasive tone and     
manner4    ,if one were to tell another 
that he was very angry1 or very much    
grieved1 in a tone which did not suit   
such emotions1 instead of being         
believed1 he would be laughed at4 ,the  
best direction which can be given1  is1 
to copy the proper tones for expressing 
every sentiment from those  which nature
 dictates to us in conversation with    
others4    ,with respect to gesture1 the
 few following hints may be of some     
service4  ,when speaking in public1 one 
should endeavor to preserve as much     

dignity  as possible in the whole       
attitude of the body4 ,an erect posture 
is  generally to be chosen2 standing    
firm so as to have the fullest command  
of all his motions4 ,any inclination1   
which is used1 should be forwards       
towards the hearers1 which is a natural 
expression of earnestness4    ,as for   
the countenance1 the chief rule is1 that
 it should correspond  with the nature  
of the discourse2 and when no particular
 emotion is  expressed1 a serious and   
manly look is always the best4 ,the eyes
 should  never be fixed close on any one
 object1 but more easily round upon the 
whole audience4    ,in the motions made 
with the hands consists the chief part  
of gesture in  speaking4 ,the right hand
 should be used more frequently than the
 left4  ,warm emotions demand the motion
 of both hands corresponding together4  
,all the gestures should be free and    
easy4 ,perpendicular movements with  the
 hands1 that is1 in a straight line up  
and down are seldom good4  ,oblique     

motions are1 in general1 the most       
graceful4    ,motions made with the     
hands should proceed rather from the    
shoulders  than from the elbows2 for    
they appear much more easy4 ,too sudden 
and  nimble motions should be avoided4  
,earnestness can be fully expressed     
without them4 ,above all things1 a      
speaker should guard against            
affectation1 which is always disgustful4
    ,,finis4