old Gothie king, asked our interpreter, what authority they had to say, that Jacob had ever been in Scotland? The fellow, inftead of returning him an answer, told him, that he hoped his honour would pay his forfeit. I could observe Sir ROGERA little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our guide not infifting upon his demand, the knight soon recovered his good humour and whispered in my ear, that if WILL WIMBLE were with us, and faw those two chairs, it would go hard. but he would get a tobacco-ftopper out of one or t'other of them. Sir ROGER, in the next place laid his hand upon Edward the third's sword, and leaning upon the pommel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black Prince; concluding, that, in Sir Richard Baker's opinion, Edward the third was one of the greatest princes that ever fat upon the English throne. We were then shewn Edward the confessor's tomb; upon which Sir ROGER acquainted us, that he was the first who touched for the evil; and afterwards Henry the fourth's, upon which he shook his head, and told us there was fine reading in the casualties of that reign. Our conductor then pointed to that monument where there is the figure of one of our English kings without an head; and upon giving us to know, that the head, which was of beaten filver, had been stolen away feveral years fince: Some whig, I'll warrant you, fays. Sir ROCER; you ought to lock up your kings better; they will carry off the body too, if you don't take care. The glorious names of Henry the fifth and queen Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our knight obferved with fome surprise, had a great many kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen in the abbey. For my own part, I could not but be pleased to fee the knight shew fuch an honest paffion for the glory of his country, and fuch a respectful gratitude to the memory of its princes. I must not omit, that the benevolence of my good old. friend, which flows out towards every one he converfes 10 e with, made him very kind to our interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man; for which reafon he shook him by the hand at parting, telling him, that he should be very glad to fee him at his lodgings in Norfolk-Buildings, and talk over the matters with him more at leisure. L. N° 330 Wednesday, March 19. Maxima debetur pueris reverentia 1 Juv. Sat. 14. V. 47. To youth the tenderest regard is due. T HE following letters, written by two very confiderate correspondents, both under twenty years. of age, are very good arguments of the neceffity of taking into confideration the many incidents which affect the education of youth. 6 SIR, I Have long expected, that in the course of your observations upon the several parts of human life, you would one time or other fall upon a subject, which, • fince you have not, I take the liberty to recommend to you. What I mean, is the patronage of young modeft • men to fuch as are able to countenance and introduce them into the world. For want of fuch assistances, a • youth of merit languishes in obfcurity or poverty, • when his circumstances are low, and runs into riot and • excess when his fortunes are plentiful. I cannot make ⚫ myself better understood, than by sending you an history of myself, which I shall defire you to infert in your Paper, it being the only way I have of expreffing my gratitude for the highest obligations imaginable. 6 I am the son of a merchant of the city of London, • who, by many losses, was reduced from a very luxuri⚫ ant trade and credit to very narrow circumstances, in comparison to that of his former abundance. This took away the vigour of his mind, and all manner of atten • tion 5 ⚫tion to a fortune which he now thought desperate; in• fomuch that he died without a will, having before bu⚫ried my mother in the midst of his other misfortunes. I was fixteen years of age when I lost my father; and an • eftate of 2001. a year came into my poffeffion, without friend or guardian to inftruct me in the managemént or enjoyment of it The natural consequence of ⚫ this was, (though I wanted no director, and foon had • fellows who found me out for a fmart young gentle'man, and led me into all the debaucheries of which I ، ، ، was capable) that my companions and I could not well • be supplied without running in debt, which I did very • frankly, till I was arrested, and conveyed, with a guard strong enough for the most defperate afsaffin, to a bailiff's house, where I lay four days furrounded with very merry but not very agreeable company. As foon as I had extricated myself from that shameful confine*ment, I reflected upon it with so much horror, that I deserted all my old acquaintance, and took chambers ⚫ in an inn of court, with a refolution to study the law • with all possible application. But I trifled away a whole year in looking over a thousand intricacies, without a • friend to apply to in any case of doubt; fo that I only lived there among men, as little children are fent to • school before they are capable of improvement, only to • be out of harm's way. In the midst of this state of fuf ، pence, not knowing how to dispose of myself, I was • fought for by a relation of mine, who, upon observing ⚫ a good inclination in me, used me with great familiarity, and carried me to his feat in the country. When I came there, he introduced me to all the good company • in the county; and the great obligation I have to him • for this kind notice, and refidence with him ever fince, ⚫ has made so strong an impression upon me, that he has an authority of a father over me, founded upon the • love of a brother. I have a good study of books, a good stable of horfes always at my command; and tho' • I am not now quite eighteen years of age, familiar con• verse on his part, and a strong inclination to exert my• self on mine, have had an effect upon me that makes me ⚫ acceptable wherever I go. Thus, Mr. SPECTATOR, by ⚫ this gentleman's favour and patronage, it is my own fault ८ 6 fault if I am not wiser and richer every day I live. I speak this as well by subscribing the initial letters of my name to thank him, as to incite others to an imitation ' of his virtue. It would be a worthy work to shew ' what great charities are to be done without expence, ' and how many noble actions are loft, out of inadvertency in persons capable of performing them, if they were put in mind of it. If a gentleman of figure in a country would make his family a pattern of fobriety, good sense, and breeding, and would kindly endeavour to ' influence the education, and growing prospects of the younger gentry about him, I am apt to believe it would • save him a great deal of stale beer on a public occafion, and render him the leader of his country from their gratitude to him, instead of being a flave to their riots ⚫ and tumults in order to be made their representative. • The fame thing might be recommended to all who have ✔ made any progress in any parts of knowledge, or arrived at any degree in a a profession; others may gain preferments and fortunes from their patrons, but I have, I hope, receiv'd from mine good habits and virtues. I repeat to you, Sir, my request to print this, in return for • all the evil an helpless orphan shall ever escape, and • all the good he shall receive in this life; both which are wholly owing to this gentleman's favour to, 6 6 6 SIR, Your most obedient humble fervant, Mr. SPECTATOR, I S. P. Am a lad of about fourteen, I find a mighty pleafure in learning. I have been at the Latin school • four years. I don't know I ever play'd truant, or neg• lected any task my master set me in my life. I think on what I read in school as I go home at noon and night, and so intently, that I have often gone half a mile out of my way, not minding whither I went. Our ' maid tells me, she often hears me talk Latin in my fleep. • And I dream two or three nights in a week I am reading Juvenal and Homer. My masto seems as well pleased with my performances as any boy's in the fame class. I think, if I know my own mind, I would choose • rather 6 ، ، rather to be a scholar than a prince without learning I have a very good affectionate father; but tho' very rich, yet so mighty near, that he thinks much of the charges of my education. He often tells me he be• lieves my schooling will ruin him; that I cost him God knows what in books. I tremble to tell him I want one. I am forced to my pocket-money and lay it out for a Keep my book, now and then, that he don't know of. He has order'd my master to buy no more books for me, but fays he will buy them himself. I asked him •for Horace t'other day, and he told me in a passion he ⚫ did not believe I was fit for it, but only my mafter had a mind to make him think I had got a great way in my learning. I am fometimes a month behind other boys * in getting the books my mafter gives orders for. All the boys in the school, but I, have the clafsick authors in ufum Delphini, gilt and letter'd on the back. My fa⚫ther is often reckoning up how long I have been as school, and tells me he fears I do little good. My father's carriage so discourages me, that he makes me grow dull and melancholy. My master wonders what is the matter with me; I am afraid to tell him; for he is a man that loves to encourage learning, and would be apt to chide my father, and not knowing my fa'ther's temper, may make him worse. Sir, if you have any love for learning, I beg you would give me fome • inftructions in this cafe, and perfuade parents to encourage their children when they find them diligent and defirous of learning. I have heard some parents say, they would do any thing for their children, if they would but mind their learning: I would be glad to be in their place Dear Sir, pardon my boldness. If you will but consider and pity my cafe, I will pray for your profperity as long as I live. ، stici v London, March 2, 1711. Your bumble servant, |