Isa. ix. 6. ii. 4. As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom warms; Shall finish what the short-liv'd sire begun ; Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield, And the same hand that sow'd shall reap the field. xxxv. 1.7. The swain in barren deserts with surprise Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise, And starts amidst the thirsty wilds to hear New falls of water murmuring in his ear: On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes, The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods. Waste sandy valleys, once perplex'd with thorn, The spiry fir and shapely box adorn: xli. 19, and iv. 13. To leafless shrubs the flowering palms succeed, xi. 6, 7, 8. The lambs with wolves shall grace the verdant . 1. b. 4. 'mead, And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead; The steer and lion at one crib shall meet, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet: And with their forked tongue and pointless sting See barb'rous nations at thy gates attend, Reveal'd, and God's eternal day be thine! The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay, Isa. lx. 3. lx. 6. lx. Ix. 19, 20. li. 6. li. 6. and liv. 10. T. N° 379. THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1712, Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter. Science is not science till reveal'd. DRYDEN. I HAVE often wondered at that ill natured position which has been sometimes maintained in the schools, and is comprised in an old Latin verse, namely, that A man's knowledge is worth nothing if he communicates what he knows to any one besides.' There is certainly no more sensible pleasure to a good-natured man, than if he can by any means gratify or inform the mind of another. might add, that this virtue naturally carries its I own reward along with it, since it is almost impossible it should be exercised without the improvement of the person who practises it. The reading of books, and the daily occurrences of life, are continually furnishing us with matter for thought and reflexion. It is extremely natural for us to desire to see such our thoughts put in the dress of words; without which, indeed, we can scarce have a clear and distinct idea of them ourselves. When they are thus clothed in expressions, nothing so truly shows us whether they are just or false, as those effects which they produce in the minds of others. Lam apt to flatter myself, that, in the course of these my speculations, I have treated of several subjects, and laid down many such rules for the conduct of a man's life, which my readers were either wholly ignorant of before, or which at least those few who were acquainted with them looked upon as so many secrets they have found out for the conduct of themselves, but were resolved never to have made public. I am the more confirmed in this opinion from my having received several letters, wherein I am censured for having prostituted Learning to the embraces of the vulgar, and made her, as one of my correspondents phrases it, a common strumpet. I am charged by another with laying open the arcana or secrets of prudence to the eyes of every reader. The narrow spirit which appears in the letters of these my correspondents is the less surprising, as it has shown itself in all ages: there is still extant an epistle written by Alexander the Great to his tutor Aristotle, upon that philosopher's publishing some part of his writings; in which the prince complains of his having made known to all the world those se▾ crets in learning which he had before communicated to him in private lectures; concluding, that he had rather excel the rest of mankind in knowledge than in power. Louisa de Padilla, a lady of great learning, and countess of Aranda, was in like manner angry with the famous Gratian, upon his publishing his treatise of the Discreto, wherein she fancied that he had laid open those maxims to common readers which ought only to have been reserved for the knowledge of the great. These objections are thought by many of so much weight, that they often defend the above-mentioned authors by affirming they have affected such an obscurity in their style and manner of writing, that, though every one may read their works, there will be but very few who can comprehend their meaning. Persius, the Latin satirist, affected obscurity for another reason; with which, however, Mr. Cow ley is so offended, that, writing to one of his friends, You,' says he, tell me, that you do not know whether Persius be a good poet or no, because you cannot understand him; for which very reason I affirm that he is not so.' However, this art of writing unintelligibly has been very much improved, and followed by several of the moderns, who, observing the general inclination of mankind to dive into a secret, and the reputation many have acquired by concealing their meaning under obscure terms and phrases, resolve, that they may be still more abstruse, to write, without any meaning at all. This art, as it is at present practised by many eminent authors, consists in throwing so many words at a venture into different periods, and leaving the curious reader to find the meaning of them. The Egyptians, who made use of hieroglyphics to signify several things, expressed a man who confined his knowledge and discoveries altogether within himself by the figure of a dark lantern closed on all sides; which, though it was illuminated within, afforded no manner of light or advantage to such as stood by it. For my own part, as I shall from time to time communicate to the public whatever discoveries I happen to make, I should much rather be compared to an ordinary lamp, which consumes and wastes itself for the benefit of every passenger. I shall conclude this paper with the story of Rosicrusius's sepulchre. I suppose I need not inform my readers that this man was the author of the Rosicrusian sect, and that his disciples still pretend to new discoveries, which they are never to communicate to the rest of mankind*. A certain person having occasion to dig somewhat deep in the ground, where this philosopher lay interred, met with a small door, having a wall on each side of it. His curiosity, and the hopes of finding some hidden treasure, soon prompted him to force open the door. He was immediately surprised by a sudden blaze of light, and discovered a very fair vault. At the upper end of it was a statue of a man in armour, sitting by a table, and leaning on his left arm. He held a truncheon in his right hand, and had a lamp burning before him. The man had no sooner set one foot within the vault, than the statue erected itself from its leaning posture, stood bolt up-right, and, upon the fellow's advancing another step, lifted up the trun * See Comte de Gabalis, par l'Abbe Villars. 1742. vols. in 12mo.; and Pope's Works, ed. of Warb, vol. i. p. 109 12me. 1770. 6 vols. |