N° XVI. SATURDAY, MAY 12, 1750, SOME WHO THE DEPTHS OF ELOQUENCE HAVE FOUND, < SIR, Ain the modeft young man whom you favoured with your advice in a late paper; and, as I am very far from fufpecting that you fore faw the numberlefs inconveniences ⚫ which I have, by following it, brought upon myself, I will lay my condition open before you, for you feem beund to extricate me from the perplexities in which your counfel, however innocent in the intention, has contributed to involve me. You told me, as you thought, to my comfort, that a writer might cafily find means of introducing his genius to the world, for the prefjes of England were open. This I have now fatally expe⚫rienced; the prefs is, indeed, open. - Facilis defcenfus Averni, Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis. VIRG. The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the defcent, and easy is the way. DRYDEN. The means of doing hurt to ourfelves are always at hand. I immediately fent to a printer, and contracted with him for an impreffion of feveral ⚫ thousands of my pamphlet. While it was at the prefs, I was feldom abfent ⚫ from the printing-house; and continually urged the workmen to hate, by folicitations, promifes, and rewards. From the day all other pleasures were excluded, by the delightful employment of correcting the theets; and ⚫ from the night fleep generally was banifhed, by anticipations of the happinefs which every hour was bringing " nearer. At laft, the time of publication approached, and my heart beat with the raptures of an author. I was above all little precautions; and, in defiance of envy or of criticifm, fet my name upon the title, without fufficiently confidering, that what has once paffed the prefs is irrevocable; and that, though DRYDEN. the printing-houfe may properly be compared to the infernal regions for the facility of it's entrance, and the difficulty with which authors return from it; yet there is this difference, that a ( great genius can never return to his former itate by a happy draught of the waters of oblivion. 6 I am now, Mr. Rambler, known to be an author; and am condemned, ir. reversibly condemned, to all the milerics of high reputation. The firft morning after publication my friends affembled about me; I prefented each, as is ufual, with a copy of my book: they looked into the first pages; but were hindered, by their admiration, from reading farther. The first pages are, indeed, very elaborate. Some paffages they particularly dwelt upon, as more eminently beautiful than the reft; and fome delicate ftrokes, and fecret elegancies, I pointed out to them, which had efcaped their obfervation. I then begged of them to forbear their compliments; and invited them, I could do no lefs, to dine with me at a tavern. After dinner, the book was • refumed; but their praifes very often fo much overpowered my modefty, that I was forced to put about the glafs, and had often no means of repreffing the clamours of their admiration, but by thundering to the drawer for another bottle. Next morning another fet of my acquaintance congratulated me upon my performance with fuch importunity of praife, that I was again forced to obviate their civilities by a treat. On the third day, I had yet a greater number of applauders to put to filence in the fame manner; and, on the fourth, those whom I had entertained the first day came again, having, in the perufal of the remaining part of the book, difcovered fo many forcible fentences and masterly touches, that it was impoffible for me to bear the repetition of their commendations: I therefore perfuaded them once more to adjourn to <the The whole week was thu. fhent in a kind of literary revel; and I lave C now found that nothing is to expentive as great abilities, unlefs there is joined with them an infafiable eagerness of praife; for, to escape from the pain of hearing myself exalted above the greatest names, dead and living, of the learned world, it has already coft me two hogfheads of port, fifteen gallons of arrack, ten dozen of claret, and five ⚫ and forty bottles of champagne. I was refolved to ftay at home no longer, and therefore rofe early, and went to the coffee-houfc; but found ⚫ that I had now made myself too eminent for happinefs, and that I was no longer to enjoy the pleature of mixing, upon equal terms, with the rest of the world. As foon as I enter the room, I fee part of the company raging with envy, which they endeavour to conceal, fometimes with the appearance of laughter, and fometimes with that of contempt; but the difguile is fuch that I can difcover the fecret rancour of their hearts; and, as envy is defervedly it's own punishment, I frequently indulge myself in tormenting them with my prefence. But, though there may be fome flight fatisfaction received from the mortifi⚫cation of my enemies, yet my benevolence will not fuffer me to take any pleafure in the terrors of my friends. I have been cautious, fince the appearance of my work, not to give myfelt more premeditated airs of fuperiority than the most rigid humility might allow. It is, indeed, not impoffible that I may • fometimes have laid down my opinion in a manner that thewed a confcioufnefs of my ability to maintain it, or interrupted the converfation, when I faw it's tendency, without fuffering the ⚫ speaker to wafte his time in explaining ⚫his fentiments; and, indeed, I did in-⚫dulge myself for two days in a custom of drumming with my fingers, when the company began to lofe themfelves in abfurdities, or to encroach upon subjects which I knew them unqualified to difcufs. But I generally acted with great appearance of relpect, even to thofe whofe ftupidity I pitied in my heart. Yet, notwithstanding this exemplary moderation, so universal is the drea of uncominon powers, and fuch the unwillingness of mankind to be made wifer, that I have now for fome days found myself fhunned by all my acquaintance. If I knock at a door, nobody is at home; if I enter a coffeehoufe, I have the box to myfelf. I live in the town like a lion in his defert, or an eagle on his rock, too great for friendship or fociety, and condemned to folitude by unhappy eleva→ tion and dreaded afcendency. Nor is my character only formida◄ Lle to others, but burdenfome to myfelf. I naturally love to talk without much thinking, to fcatter my merriment at random, and to relax my thoughts with ludicrous remarks and fanciful images; but fuch is now the importance of my opinion, that I am 'afraid to offer it, leit, by being eftablifhed too haftily into a maxim, if fhould be the occafion of error to half the nation; and fuch is the expectation with which I am attended when I am going to speak, that I frequently paufe to reflect whether what I am about to utter is worthy of inyfelf. This, Sir, is fufficiently miserable; but there are itill greater calamities be'hind. You must have read in Pope and Swift how men of parts have had their clofets rifled, and their cabinets broke open, at the inftigation of pira⚫tical bookfellers, for the profit of their 'works; and it is apparent, that there are many prints now fold in the fhops of men whom you cannot fufpect of fitting for that purpose, and whofe likeneffes must have been certainly ftolen when their names made their faces vendible. Thefe confiderations at firft put me on my guards and I have, indeed, found fufficient reafon for my caution, for I have discovered many people examining my countenance with a curiofity that shewed their intention to draw it; I immediately left the house, but find the fame behaviour in another. Others may be perfecuted, but I am haunted; I have good reafon to be lieve that eleven painters are now dogging me, for they know that he who can get my face firft will make his fortune. I often change my wig, and wear my hat over my eyes, by which I hope fomewhat to confound them; for you know it is not fair to fell my face without admitting me to fhare the profit. I am, however, not so much in pain for my face as for my papers, which I ⚫ dare neither carry with me nor leave ⚫ behind. I have, indeed, taken fome meafures for their prefervation, having 'put them in an iron cheft, and fixed a padlock upon my closet. I change my lodgings five times a week, and always ' removeat the dead of night. Thus I live, in confequence of hav'ing given too great proofs of a predo ninant genius, in the folitude of a hermit, with the anxiety of a mifer, and the caution of an outlaw: afraid to fhew my face, left it fhould be copied; afraid to fpeak, left I should injure my character; and to write, left my correfpondents fhould publish my letters; always uneafy left my fervants fhould fteal my papers for the fake of money, or my friends for that of the publick. This it is to foar above the rest of mankind: and this reprefentation I lay before you, that I may be informed how to diveft myself of the laurels which are to cumbersome to the wearer, and defcend to the enjoyment of that quiet from which I find a writer of the firft clats fo fatally debarred. MISELLUS.' N° XVII. TUESDAY, MAY 15, 1759. -ME NON ORACULA CERTUM, SED MORS GIRTA FACIT. LUCAN. LET THOSE WEAK MINDS WHO LIVE IN DOUBT AND FEAR, ONE CERTAIN HOUR OF DEATH TO EACH DECREED, Rowe. IT is recorded of fome eastern mo. pictetus, & frequently on poverty, ba narch, that he kept an officer in his houfe, whofe employment it was to remind him of his mortality, by calling out every morning, at a itated hourRemember, prince, that thou shalt die !" And the contemplation of the frailness and uncertainty of our present state appeared of fo much importance to Solon of Athens, that he left this precept to future ages- Keep thine eye fixed upon ⚫ the end of life." A frequent and attentive prospect of that moment which muft put a period to all our schemes, and deprive us of all our acquifitions, is indeed of the utmost efficacy to the just and rational regulation of our lives; nor would ever any thing wicked, or often any thing abfurd, be undertaken or profecuted by him who fhould begin every day with a ferious reflection that he is born to die. The difturbers of our happiness, in this world, are our defires, our griefs, and our fears; and to all these the confideration of mortality is a certain and adequate remedy. Think,' fays E nifhment, and death, and thou wilt then never indulge violent defires, or give up thy heart to mean fentiments, δὲν ἐδέπέ ταπεινὸν ἐνθύμηση, ἔτι ἀγαν * ἐπιθυμήσεις τινός. That the maxim of Epictetus is fourded on juft obiervation, will easily be granted, when we reflect, how that wehemence of eagernels after the common objects of purfuit is kindled in our minds. We reprefent to ourselves the pleatures of fome future poffeffion, and fuffer our thoughts to dwell attentively upon it, till it has wholly engroffed the imagination, and permits us not to conceive any happinefs but it's attainment, or any mifery but it's lofs; every other fatisfaction which the bounty of Providence has feattered over life is neglected as inconûderable, in comparison of the great objekt which we have placed before us, and is thrown from us as incumbering our activity, or trampled under foot as standing in our way. Every man has experienced how much of this ardour has been remitted, when a fharp or tedious fickness has fet death before his eyes. The extensive influence of greatneis, the glitter of wealth, the praifes of admirers and the attendance of fupplicants, have appeared vain and empty things when the last hour feemed to be approaching, and the fame appear ance they would always have, if the fame thought was always predominant. We should then find the abfurdity of ftretching out our arms inceffantly to grafp that which we cannot keep, and wearing out our lives in endeavours to add new turrets to the fabrick of ambition, when the foundation itfelf is fhaking, and the ground on which it stands is mouldering away. All envy is proportionate to delire; we are uneafy at the attainments of another, according as we think our own happiness would be advanced by the addition of that which he withholds from us; and therefore whatever depreffs immoderate wifhes, will, at the fame time, fet the heart free from the corrofion of envy, and exempt us from that vice which is, above most others, tormenting to ourselves, hateful to the world, and productive of mean artifices and fordid projects. He that confiders how foon he muft clote his life, will find nothing of fo much importance as to clofe it well; and will therefore look with indifference upon whatever is ufelefs to that purpofe. Whoever reflects frequently upon the uncertainty of his own duration, will find out that the state of others is not more permanent; and that what can confer nothing on himself very defirable, cannot fo much improve the condition of a rival as to make him much fuperior to thole from whom he has carried the prize, a prize too mean to deferve a very obftinate oppofition. greatest, and are convinced that the greateft is not much to be regretted. But if any patlion has fo much ufurped our understanding, as not to suffer us to enjoy advantages with the moderation prefcribed by reafon, it is not too late to apply this remedy when we find ourselves finking under forrow, and inclined to pine for that which is irrecoverably vanished. We then ufefully revolve the uncertainty of our own condition, and the folly of lamenting that from which, if it had itayed a little longer, we should ourselves have been taken away. may With regard to the fharpeft and most melting forrow, that which arifes from the lofs of thofe whom we have loved with tendernefs, it may be observed, that friendship between mortals can be contracted on no other terms than that one mult fome time mourn for the other's death: and this grief will always yield to the furvivor one confolation proportionate to his affliction; for the pain, whatever it be, that he himself feels, his friend has efcaped. Nor is fear, the most overbearing and refiftlets of all our paffions, lefs to be temperated by this univerfal medicine of the mind. The frequent contemplation of death, as it fhows the vanity of all human good, difcovers likewife the lightnets of all terreftrial evil, which certainly can laft no longer than the subject upon which it acts; and, according to the old obfervation, must be shorter, as it is more violent. The moft cruel calamity which misfortune can produce, muft, by the neceffity of nature, be quickly at an end. The foul cannot long be held in prifon, but will fly away, and leave a lifeless body to human malice. · Ridetque fui ludibria trunci. Even grief, that paffion to which the virtuous and tender mind is particularly fubject, will be obviated or alleviated And, foaring, mocks the broken frame below. by the fame thoughts. It will be obviated, if all the bleflings of our condition are enjoyed with a conftant ferle of this uncertain tenure. If we remember, that whatever we poffefs is to be in our hands but a very little time, and that the little which our molt lively hopes can promife us may be made lets by ten thousand accidents, we fhall not much repine at a lofs of which we cannot citimate the value, but of which, though we :re not able to tell the least amount, we know, with fufficient certainty, the The utmost that we can threaten to one another is that death which, indeed, we may precipitate, but cannot retard; and from which, therefore, it cannot become a wife man to buy a reprieve at the expence of virtue, fince he knows not how finall a portion of time he can purchase, but knows that, whether fhort or long, it will be made leis valuable by the remembrance of the price at which it has been obtained. He is fure that he deftroys his happiness, but but is not fure that he lengthens his life. The known fhortness of life, as it ought to moderate our paffions, may likewife, with equal propriety, contract our defigns. There is not time for the moft forcible genius, and most active industry, to extend it's effects beyond a certain fphere. To project the conquest of the world, is the madness of mighty princes; to hope for excellence in every fcience, has been the folly, of literary heroes and both have found, at laft, that they have panted for a heighth of eminence denied to humanity, and have loft many opportunities of making themfelves ufeful and happy, by a vain ambition of obtaining a fpecies of honour, which the eternal laws of Providence have placed beyond the reach of man. The mifcarriages of the great defigns of princes are recorded in the hiftories of the world, but are of little ufe to the bulk of mankind, who seem very little interested in admonitions against errors which they cannot commit. But the fate of learned ambition is a proper fubject for every scholar to confider; for who has not had occasion to regret the diffi pation of great abilities in a boundless It is always pleafing to obferve, how N° XVIII, SATURDAY, MAY 19, 1750. HOR. NOT THERE THE GUILTLESS STEP-DAME KNOWS HERE is no obfervation more Tfrequently made by fuch as employ themselves in furveying the conduct of mankind, than that Marriage, though the dictate of nature, and the institution of providence, is yet very often the caufe of mifery; and that those who enter into that ftate can feldom forbear to exprefs their repentance, and their envy of thofe whom either chance or caution hath withheld from it, FRANCIS. occafion to many fage maxims among F 2 and |