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ness than that which they had forfeited. In short, Satan is represented miserable in the height of his triumphs, and Adam triumphant in the height of misery.

These two verses, though they have their beauty fall very much below the foregoing passage, and renew in the mind of the reader that anguish which was pretty well laid by that consideration:

'The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.

Milton's poem ends very nobly. The last speeches of Adam and the archangel are full of moral and instructive sentiments. The sleep that fell upon Eve, and the effects it had in quieting the disorders The number of books in Paradise Lost is equal of her mind, produces the same kind of consolation to those of the Eneid. Our author in his fr in the reader, who cannot peruse the last beautiful edition had divided his poem into ten books, be i speech, which is ascribed to the mother of man-afterwards broke the seventh and the eleventh ra kind, without a secret pleasure and satisfaction:

'Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know;
For God is also in sleep, and dreams advise;
Which he hath sent propitious, some great good
Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress
Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on;
In me is no delay: with thee to go,
Is to stay here; without thee here to stay,
Is to go hence unwilling: thou to me
Art all things under heav'n, all places thou,
Who for my wilful crime art banish'd hence.
This further consolation yet secure
I carry hence; though all by me is lost,
Such favour I unworthy am vouchsaf'd,
By me the promis'd seed shall all restore.'

The following lines, which conclude the poem, rise in a most glorious blaze of poetical images and expressions.

Heliodorus in his Ethiopics acquaints us, that the motion of the gods differs from that of mortals, as the former do not stir their feet, nor proceed step by step, but slide over the surface of the earth by an uniform swimming of the whole body. The reader may observe with how poetical a description Milton bas attributed the same kind of motion to the angels who were to take possession of Pa radise.

So spake our mother Eve; and Adam heard
Well pleas'd, but answer'd not, for now too nigh
Th' archangel stood; and from the other hill
To their tix'd station, all in bright array
The cherubim descended; on the ground
Gliding meteorous, as evening mist

Ris'n from a river, o'er the marish glides,
And gathers ground fast at the lab'rer's heel
Homeward returning. High in front advanc'd
The brandish'd sword of God before them blaz'd
Fierce as a comet-

The author helped his invention in the following passage, by reflecting on the behaviour of the angel who in holy writ has the conduct of Lot and his family. The circumstances drawn from that relation are very gracefully made use of on this


In either hand the hast'ning angel caught
Our ling'ring parents, and to th' eastern gate
Led them direct; and down the cliff as fast
To the subjected plain; then disappear'd,
They looking back,' &c.

The scene which our first parents are surprised with, upon their looking back on Paradise, wonderfully strikes the reader's imagination, as nothing can be more natural than the tears they shed on that occasion.

"They looking back, all th' eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Way'd over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wip'd them soon : The world was all before then, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.' If I might presume to offer at the smallest alteration in this divine work, I should think the poem would end better with the passage here quoted, than with the two verses which follow:

They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.'

of them into two different books by the help some small additions. This second division w made with great judgment, as any one may see who I will be at the pains of examining it. It was done for the sake of such a chimerical beau that of resembling Virgil in this particular, for the more just and regular disposition of us great work.

Those who have read Bossn, and many of critics who have written since his time, will.”á pardon me if I do not find out the particular I which is inculcated in Paradise Lost. Tho can by no means think with the last-mention French author, that an epic writer first of pitches upon a certain moral, as the ground-at and foundation of his poem, and afterwards & a, out a story to it, I am however of opinion, t no just heroic poem ever was or can be made, ir a whence one great moral may not be ded That which reigns in Milton, is the most univer and most useful that can be imagined. It short this, that obedience to the will of God mats, men happy, and that disobedience makes then a serable. This is visibly the moral of the princșa fable, which turns upon Adam and Eve, who ca tinued in Paradise, while they kept the comm that was given them, and were driven out of it a soon as they had transgressed. This is likewiset, moral of the principal episode, which show, how an innumerable multitude of angels fell fa their state of bliss, and were cast into hell their disobedience. Besides this great moral, wmay be looked upon as the soul of the fable, thei are an infinity of under-morals, which are to be which makes this work more useful and instruct " drawn from the several parts of the poem. than any other poem in any language.

Those who have criticised on the Odyssey,

iad, and Æneid, have taken a great deal of pa to fix the number of months and days contained # the action of each of those poems. If any rat thinks it worth his while to examine this partes in Milton, he will find, that from Adam's first as pearance in the fourth book, to his expulsion fres Paradise in the twelfth, the author reckon scribed in the three first books, as it does rot days. As for that part of the action which se served that it is not subject to any calculations of within the regions of nature, I have before che


I have now finished my observations on a w which does an honour to the English natio have taken a general view of it under these t heads, the fable, the characters, the sent m and the language, and made each of them the sh ject of a particular paper. I bave in the a-st place spoke of the censures which our arther my incur under each of these heads, which I baver fined to two papers, though I might have eraft the number, if I had been disposed to dwe so ungrateful a subject. I believe, however, 4 the severest reader will not find any hire fak in heroic poetry, which this author has fallen sahay

that does not come under one of those heads among sacred. Consider all the different pursuits and emwhich I have distributed his several blemishes. ployments of men, and you will find half their After having thus treated at large of Paradise actions tend to nothing else but disguise and imLost, I could not think it sufficient to have cele-posture; and all that is done which proceeds not brated this poem in the whole, without descending from a man's very self, is the action of a player. to particulars. I have therefore bestowed a paper For this reason it is that I make so frequent menupon each book, and endeavoured not only to tion of the stage. It is with me a matter of the prove that the poem is beautiful in general, but to highest consideration, what parts are well or ill point out its particular beauties; and, to deter- performed, what passions or sentiments are inmine wherein they consist, I have endeavoured to dulged or cultivated, and consequently what manshow how some passages are beautified by beingners and customs are transfused from the stage to sublime, others by being soft, others by being na- the world, which reciprocally imitate each other. tural; which of them are recommended by the pas- As the writers of epic poems introduce shadowy tion, which by the moral, which by the sentiment, persons, and represent vices and virtues under the and which by the expression. I have likewise en- characters' of men and women; so I, who am a deavoured to show how the genius of the poet Spectator in the world, may perhaps sometimes shines by a happy invention, a distant allusion, or make use of the names of the actors on the stage, a judicious imitation; how he has copied or im- to represent or admonish those who transact affairs proved Homer or Virgil, and raises his own ima- in the world. When I am commending Wilks for ginations by the use which he has made of several representing the tenderness of a husband and a fapoetical passages in scripture. I might have in- ther in" Macbeth," the contrition of a reformed serted also several passages in Tasso, which our prodigal in "Harry the Fourth," the winning empauthor has imitated; but, as I do not look upon tiness of a young man of good-nature and wealth Tasso to be a sufficient voucher, I would not per- in " The Trip to the Jubilee," the officiousness of plex my reader with such quotations as might do an artful servant in "The Fox;" when thus I cemore honour to the Italian than the English poet.lebrate Wilks, I talk to all the world who are enIn short, I have endeavoured to particularize those innumerable kinds of beauty, which it would be tedious to recapitulate, but which are essential to poetry, and which may be met with in the works of this great author. Had I thought, at my first engaging in this design, that it would have led me to so great a length, I believe I should never have entered upon it; but the kind reception which it has met with among those whose judgments I have a value for, as well as the uncommon demands which my bookseller tells me have been made for these particular discourses, give me no reason to repent of the pains I have been at in composing them.


N° 370. MONDAY, MAY 5, 1712.

Totus mundus agit histrionem.


gaged in any of those circumstances. If I were to speak of merit neglected, misapplied, or misunderstood, might not I say Estcourt has a great capacity? But it is not the interest of others who bear a figure on the stage, that his talents were understood; it is their business to impose upon him what cannot become him, or keep out of his hands any thing in which he would shine. Were one to raise a suspicion of himself in a man who passes upon the world for a fine thing, in order to alarm him one might say, if Lord Foppington were not on the stage (Cibber acts the false pretensions to a genteel behaviour so very justly), he would have in the generality of mankind more that would admire than deride him. When we come to characters directly comical, it is not to be imagined what effect a well-regulated stage would have upon men's manners. The craft of an usurer, the absurdity of a rich fool, the awkward roughness of a fellow of half courage, the ungraceful mirth of a creature of half wit, might be for ever put out of countenance by proper parts for Dogget. MANY of my fair readers, as well as very gay and Johnson, by acting Corbacchio the other night, well-received persons of the other sex, are exmust have given all who saw him a thorough detremely perplexed at the Latin sentences at the testation of aged avarice. The petulancy of a head of my speculations. I do not know whether peevish old fellow, who loves and hates he knows I ought not to indulge them with translations of not why, is very excellently performed by the each of them however, I have to-day taken ingenious Mr. William Penkethman, in "The Fop's down from the top of the stage in Drury-lane, a Fortune;" where, in the character of Don Chobit of Latin which often stands in their view, and lerick Snap Shorto de Testy, he answers no quessignifies, that The whole world acts the player.' tions but to those whom he likes, and wants no It is certain, that if we look all round us, and be-account of any thing from those he approves. Mr. hold the different employments of mankind, you Penkethman is also master of as many faces in the hardly see one who is not, as the player is, in an dumb-scene as can be expected from a man in the assumed character. The lawyer, who is vehement circumstances of being ready to perish out of fear and loud in a cause wherein he knows he has not and hunger. He wonders throughout the whole the truth of the question on his side, is a player as scene very masterly, without neglecting his victo the personated part; but incomparably meaner tuals. If it be, as I have heard it sometimes menthan he as to the prostitution of himself for hire; tioned, a great qualification for the world to fol because the pleader's falsehood introduces injus- low business and pleasure too, what is it in the tice; the player feigns for no other end but to di-ingenious Mr. Penkethman to represent a sense of vert or instruct you. The divine, whose passions pleasure and pain at the same time; as you may transport him to say any thing with any view but see him do this evening? promoting the interests of true piety and religion, s a player with a still greater imputation of guilt, in proportion to his depreciating a character more It is scarcely necessary to observe, that in the original publication of the Spectator, the mottoes were untranslated.

As it is certain that a stage ought to be wholly suppressed, or judiciously encouraged, while there is one in the nation, men turned for regular plea sure cannot employ their thoughts more usefully, for the diversion of mankind, than by convincing

them that it is in themselves to raise this entertainment to the greatest height. It would be a great improvement, as well as embellishment to the theatre, if dancing were more regarded, and taught to all the actors. One who has the advantage of such an agreeable girlish person as Mrs. Bicknell, joined with her capacity of imitation, could in proper gesture and motion represent all the decent characters of female life. An amiable mod sty in one aspect of a dancer, and assumed confidence in another, a sudden joy in another, a falling-off with an impatience of being beheld, a return towards the audience with an unsteady resolution to approach them, and a well-acted solicitude to please, would revive in the company all the fine touches of mind raised in observing all the objects of affection and passion they had before beheld. Such elegant entertainments as these would polish the town into judgment in their gratifications; and delicacy in pleasure is the first step people of condition take in reformation from vice. Mrs. Bicknell has the only capacity for this sort of dancing of any on the stage; and I dare say all who see her performance to-morrow night (when sure the romp will do her best for her own benefit) will be of my mind,

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JUV. Sat. &. 28.
And shall the sage* your approbation win,
Whose laughing features wore a constant grin?

I SHALL Communicate to my reader the following
letter for the entertainment of this day.


You know very well that our nation is more famous for that sort of men who are called "whims" and 66 humorists," than any other country in the world; for which reason it is observed, that our English comedy excels that of all other nations in the novelty and variety of its characters.

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It proved so in the assembly I am now speaking of, who seeing so many peaks of faces agitated with eating, drinking, and discourse, and observ ing all the chins that were present meeting toge ther very often over the centre of the table, every one grew sensible of the jest, and came into with so much good humour, that they lived in strict friendship and alliance from that day forward.

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The same gentleman some time after packed together a set of oglers, as he called them, cosisting of such as had an unlucky cast in their eyes. His diversion on this occasion was to see the cross bows, mistaken signs, and wrong com vances, that passed amidst so many broken and refracted rays of sight.

The third feast which this merry gentleman exhibited was to the stammerers, whom he got toge ther in a sufficient body to fill his table. He had ordered one of his servants, who was placed be hind a screen, to write down their table talk, which was very easy to be done without the help of shorthand. It appears by the notes which were taken, that though their conversation never fell, there were not above twenty words spoken during the first course; that upon serving up the second, one of the company was a quarter of an hour in telling them that the ducklings and asparagus were very good; and that another took up the same time in declaring himself of the same opinion. This jest did not, however, go off so well as the former; for one of the guests being a brave man, and fuller of resentment than he knew how to express, went out of the room, and sent the facetious inviter a cha lenge in writing, which, though it was afterwards dropped by the interposition of friends, put a stop to these ludicrous entertainments.

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Now, sir, I dare say you will agree with me, that as there is no moral in these jests, they ought | to be discouraged, and looked upon rather as pieca of unluckiness than wit. However, as it is pateral for one man to refine upon the thought of ars ther, and impossible for any single person, how great soever his parts may be, to invent an art, and bring it to its utmost perfection; I shall here give you an account of an honest gentleman of my ac the wit above-mentioned, has himself assumed d quaintance, who, upon hearing the character of and endeavoured to convert it to the benefit of mankind. He invited half a dozen of his friends one day to dinner, who were each of them famous for inserting several redundant phrases in their di course, as "D'ye hear me?-D'ye see?—That is -And so, sir." Each of the guests making fre

Among those innumerable sets of whims which our country produces, there are none whom I have regarded with more curiosity than those who have invented any particular kind of diversion for the entertainment of themselves or their friends. My jetter shall single out those who take delight in sorting a company that has something of burlesque and ridicule in its appearance. I shall make my-quent use of his particular elegance, appeared so self understood by the following example. One of the wits of the last age, who was a man of a good estate +, thought he never laid out his money better than in a jest; as he was one year at the Bath, observing that, in the great confluence of fine people, there were several among them with long chins, a part of the visage by which he himself was very much distinguished, he invited to dinner half a score of these remarkable persons who had their mouths in the middle of their faces. They had no sooner placed themselves about the table, but they began to stare upon one another, not being able to imagine what had brought them together. Our English proverb says,

"Tis merry in the hall,

When beards wag all.'

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ridiculous to his neighbour, that he could not bat lous to the rest of the company. By this mears, reflect upon himself as appearing equally ridica before they had sat long together, every one, talking with the greatest circumspection, and carefully avoiding his favourite expletive, the conversation was cleared of its redundancies, and had a greater quantity of sense, though less of sound, in it.

sion, at another time, to bring together such of he The same well-meaning gentleman took ocra friends as were addicted to a foolish habitual cus tom of swearing. In order to show them the ab surdity of the practice, he had recourse to the IDvention above-mentioned, having placed an amanuensis in a private part of the room. After the second bottle, when men open their minds without reserve, my honest friend began to take notice of the many sonorous but unnecessary words that had passed in his house since their sitting down at tabit,

and how much good conversation they had lost by giving way to such superfluous phrases. "What a tax," says he, "would they have raised for the poor, had we put the laws in execution upon one another!" Every one of them took this gentle reproof in good part; upon which he told them, that, knowing their conversation would have no secrets in it, he had ordered it to be taken down in writing, and for the humour-sake, would read it to them, if they pleased. There were ten sheets of it, which might have been reduced to two, had there not been those abominable interpolations I have before mentioned. Upon the reading of it in cold blood, it looked rather like a conference of fiends than of men. In short, every one trembled at himself upon hearing calmly what he had proBounced amidst the heat and inadvertency of dis


'I shall only mention another occasion wherein he made use of the same invention to cure a different kind of men, who are the pests of all polite conversation, and murder time as much as either of the two former, though they do it more innocently; I mean, that dull generation of story-tellers. My friend got together about half a dozen of his acquaintance, who were infected with this strange malady. The first day one of them sitting down, entered upon the siege of Namur, which lasted till four o'clock, their time of parting. The second day a North Briton took possession of the discourse, which it was impossible to get out of his hands so long as the company stayed together. The third day was engrossed after the same manner by a story of the same length. They at last began to reflect upon this barbarous way of treating one another, and by this means awakened out of that lethargy with which each of them had been seized for several years.

As you have somewhere declared, that extraordinary and uncommon characters of mankind are the game which you delight in, and as I look upon you to be the greatest sportsman, or, if you please, the Nimrod among this species of writers, I thought this discovery would not be unacceptable to you. Jam, SIR, &c."

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Pudet hæc opprobria nobis
Et dici potuisse, et non potuisse refelli.
OVID. Metam. i. ver. 758.

To hear an open slander, is a curse;
But not to find an answer, is a worse.

'MR. SPECTATOR, May 6, 1712. 'I AM Sexton of the parish of Covent-garden, and complained to you some time ago, that as I was toiling into prayers at eleven in the morning, crowds of people of quality hastened to assemble at a puppet-show on the other side of the garden. I had at the same time a very great disesteem for Mr. Powell and his little thoughtless commonwealth, as if they had enticed the gentry into those wanderings: but let that be as it will, I am now convinced of the honest intentions of the said Mr. Powell and company; and send this to acquaint you, that he has given all the profits which shall arise to-morrow night by his play to the use of the poor charity-children of this parish. I have been informed, sir, that in Holland all persons who set

It has been supposed, that the Letters of Addison, with the signature C. were written at Chelsea; those with L. at London; and those with I. at Islington.

up any show, or act any stage-play, be the actor either of wood and wire, or flesh and blood, are obliged to pay out of their gain such a proportion to the honest and industrious poor in the neighbour. hood: by this means they make diversion and pleasure pay a tax to labour and industry. I have been told also, that all the time of Lent, in Roman catholic countries, the persons of condition administer to the necessities of the poor, and attend the beds of lazars and diseased persons. Our protestant ladies and gentlemen are so much to seek for proper ways of passing time, that they are obliged to Punchinello for knowing what to do with themselves. Since the case is so, I desire only you would intreat our people of quality, who are not to be interrupted in their pleasure to think of the practice of any moral duty, that they would at least fine for their sins, and give something to these poor children; a little out of their luxury and superfluity would atone, in some measure, for the wanton use of the rest of their fortunes. It would not, methinks, be amiss, if the ladies who haunt the cloysters and passages of the playhouse, were, upon every offence, obliged to pay to this excellent institution of schools of charity. This method would make offenders themselves do service to the public. But in the mean time I desire you would publish this voluntary reparation which Mr. Powell does our parish, for the noise he has made in it by the constant rattling of coaches, drums, trumpets, triumphs, and battles. The destruction of Troy, adorned with Highland dances, are to make up the entertainment of all who are so well disposed as not to forbear a light entertainment, for no other reason but that it is to do a good action. 'I am, SIR,

'Your most humble servant,


'I am credibly informed that all the insinuations which a certain writer made against Mr. Powell * at the Bath, are false and groundless.'


'My employment, which is that of a broker, leading me often into taverns about the Exchange, has given me occasion to observe a certain enormity, which I shall here submit to your animadversion. In three or four of these taverns, I have, at different times, taken notice of a precise set of people, with grave countenances, short wigs, black clothes, or dark camlet trimmed with black, and mourning gloves and hat-bands, who meet on certain days at each tavern successively, and keep a sort of moving club. Having often met with their faces, and observed a certain slinking way in their dropping in one after another, I had the curiosity to inquire into their characters, being the rather moved to it by their agreeing in the singularity of their dress; and

find, upon due examination, they are a knot of parish clerks, who have taken a fancy to one antheir half pints. I have so great a value and veother, and perhaps settle the bills of mortality over neration for any, who have but even an assenting amen in the service of religion, that I am afraid

lest these persons should incur some scandal by this

raillery, advised to send the Florence and pullets practice; and would therefore have them, without home to their own houses, and not pretend to live as well as the overseers of the poor.

'I am, SIR,

"Your most humble servant, 'HUMPHRY TRANSFER.'

* See No 277.

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'I was last Wednesday night at a tavern in the city, among a set of men who call themselves "The Lawyers' Club." You must know, sir, this club consists only of attorneys; and at this meeting every one proposes the cause he has then in hand to the board, upon which each member gives his judgment according to the experience he has met with. If it happens that any one puts a case of which they have had no precedent, it is noted down by their clerk Will Goosequill (who registers all their proceedings), that one of them may go the next day with it to a counsel. This indeed is commendable, and ought to be the principal end of their meeting; but had you been there to have heard them relate their methods of managing a cause, their manner of drawing out their bills, and, in short, their arguments upon the several ways of abusing their clients, with the applause that is given to him who has done it most artfully, you would before now have given your remarks on them. They are so conscious that their discourses ought to be kept a secret, that they are very cadtious of admitting any person who is not of their profession. When any who are not of the law are let in, the person who introduces him says, he is a very honest gentleman, and he is taken in, as their cant is, to pay costs. I am admitted, upon the recommendation of one of their principals, as a very honest, good-natured fellow, that will never be in a plot, and only desires to drink his bottle and smoke his pipe. You have formerly remarked upon several sorts of clubs; and as the tendency of this is only to increase fraud and deceit, I hope you will please to take notice of it.

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N° 373. THURSDAY, MAY 8, 1712.

Fallit enim vitium specie virtutis et umbra.
JUV. Sat. xiv. ver. 109.

Vice oft is hid in Virtue's fair disguise,
And in her borrow'd form escapes inquiring eyes.

abused by the different and wrong interpretations which are put upon them, than those two, modesty and assurance. To say, such a one is a modest man, sometimes indeed passes for a good charac ter; but at present is very often used to signify a sheepish, awkward fellow, who has neither good breeding, politeness, nor any knowledge of the world.

Again, a man of assurance, though at first it only denoted a person of a free and open carriage, is now very usually applied to a profligate wretch, who can break through all the rules of decency and morality without a blush.

I shall endeavour therefore in this essay to restore these words to their true meaning, to prevent the idea of modesty from being confounded with that of sheepishness, and to hinder impudence from passing for assurance.

If I was put to define modesty, I would call it, the reflection of an ingenuous mind, either when a man has committed an action for which he censures himself, or fancies that he is exposed to the censure of others.'

For this reason a man truly modest is as much so when he is alone as in company, and as subject to a blush in his closet, as when the eyes of multitades are upon him.

I do not remember to have met with any instance of modesty with which I am so well pleased, as that celebrated one of the young prince, whose father, being a tributary king to the Romans, had several complaints laid against him before the senate, as a tyrant and oppressor of his subjects. The prince went to Rome to defend his father; bet coming into the senate, and bearing a multitude of crimes proved upon him, was so oppressed when it came to his turn to speak, that he was unable to utter a word. The story tells us, that the fathers were more moved at this instance of modesty and ingenuity, than they could have been by the most pathetic oration; and, in short, pardoned the guilty father for this early promise of virtue in the


I take 'assurance to be the faculty of possessing a man's self, or of saying and doing indifferent things without any uneasiness or emotion in the mind.' That which generally gives a man assurance is a moderate knowledge of the world, but above all a mind fixed and determined in itself to do nothing against the rules of honour and decency. An MR. LOCKE, in his treatise of Human Understand-open and assured behaviour is the natural conse ing, has spent two chapters upon the abuse of quence of such a resolution. A man thus armed, words. The first and most palpable abuse of if his words or actions are at any time misinterwords, he says, is when they are used without clear preted, retires within himself, and, from a con and distinct ideas; the second, when we are so in-sciousness of his own integrity, assumes force constant and unsteady in the application of them, enough to despise the little censures of ignorance that we sometimes use them to signify one idea, and malice. sometimes another. He adds, that the result of our contemplations and reasonings, while we have no precise ideas fixed to our words, must needs be very confused and absurd. To avoid this inconvenience, more especially in moral discourses, where the same word should constantly be used in the same sense, he earnestly recommends the use of definitions. 'A definition,' says he, is the only way whereby the precise meaning of moral words can be known.' He therefore accuses those of great negligence, who discourse of moral things with the least obscurity in the terms they make use of, since upon the forementioned ground he does not scruple to say, that he thinks morality is capable of demonstration as well as the mathematics.'

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I know no two words that have been more

Every one ought to cherish and encourage in himself the modesty and assurance I have here mestioned.

A man without assurance is liable to be made uneasy by the folly or ill-nature of every one he converses with. A man without modesty is lost to all sense of honour and virtue.

It is more than probable, that the prince abovementioned possessed both these qualifications in a very eminent degree. Without assurance he would never have undertaken to speak before the most august assembly in the world; without modesty, be would have pleaded the cause he had taken upɑt him though it had appeared ever so scandalous.

From what has been said it is plain, that m desty and assurance are both amiable, and may very well meet in the same person. When they

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