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poems, whilst we are distinguished by so many thousand humours, and split into so many different sects and parties; yet persons of every party, sect, and humour, are fond of conforming their taste to yours. You can transfuse your own relish of a poem into all your readers, according to their capacity to receive; and when you recommend the pious passion that reigns in the verse, we seem to feel the devotion, and grow proud and pleased inwardly, that we have souls capable of relishing what the Spectator approves.

bears to our indeed proper behaviour in | reform the taste of a profane age; and pertheatres, may be some instance of its in- suade us to be entertained with divine congruity in the above-mentioned places. In Roman-catholic churches and chapels abroad, I myself have observed, more than once, persons of the first quality, of the nearest relation, and intimatest acquaintance, passing by one another unknowing as it were, and unknown, and with so little notice of each other, that it looked like having their minds more suitably and more solemnly engaged; at least it was an acknowledgment that they ought to have been SO. I have been told the same even of Mahometans, with relation to the propriety of their demeanour in the conventions of Upon reading the hymns that you have their erroneous worship; and I cannot but published in some late papers, I had a mind think either of them sufficient laudable to try yesterday whether I could write one. patterns for our imitation in this particular. The cxivth psalm appears to me an ad'I cannot help, upon this occasion, re-mirable ode, and I began to turn it into our marking on the excellent memories of language. As I was describing the journey those devotionists, who upon returning from of Israel from Egypt, and added the Divine church shall give a particular account how Presence amongst them, I perceived a two or three hundred people were dressed: beauty in this psalm which was entirely a thing, by reason of its variety, so difficult new to me, and which I was going to lose; to be digested and fixed in the head, that and that is that the poet utterly conceals it is a miracle to me how two poor hours the presence of God in the beginning of it, of divine service can be time sufficient for and rather lets a possessive pronoun go so elaborate an undertaking, the duty of without a substantive, than he will so much the place too being jointly, and no doubt as mention any thing of divinity there. oft pathetically, performed along with it. "Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his Where it is said in sacred writ, that "the dominion or kingdom." The reason now woman ought to have a covering on her seems evident, and this conduct necessary: head because of the angels," the last word for, if God had appeared before, there is by some thought to be metaphorically could be no wonder why the mountains used, and to signify young men. Allowing should leap and the sea retire: therefore, this interpretation to be right, the text that this convulsion of nature may be may not appear to be wholly foreign to our brought in with due surprise, his name is present purpose. not mentioned till afterward; and then, with a very agreeable turn of thought, God is introduced at once in all his majesty. This is what I have attempted to imitate in a translation without paraphrase, and to preserve what I could of the spirit of the sacred author.

When you are in a disposition proper for writing on such a subject, I earnestly recommend this to you; and am, sir, your humble servant.' T.

No. 461.] Tuesday, August 19, 1712.
-Sed non ego credulis illus. Virg. Ecl. ix. 34.
But I discern their flatt'ry from their praise.

Dryden. FOR want of time to substitute something else in the room of them, I am at present obliged to publish compliments above my desert in the following letters. It is no small satisfaction to have given occasion to ingenious men to employ their thoughts upon sacred subjects from the approbation of such pieces of poetry as they have seen in my Saturday's papers. I shall never publish verse on that day but what is written by the same hand:* yet I shall not accompany those writings with eulogiums, but leave them to speak for themselves.

For the Spectator.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-You very much promote the interests of virtue, while you

• Addison.

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Why did ye leap, ye little hills?
And whence the fright that Sinai feels?
V.

'Let every mountain, every flood,
Retire, and know th' approaching God,
The King of Israel. See him here;
Tremble, thou earth, adore and fear.
VI.

"He thunders-and all nature mourns;
The rock to standing pools he turns.
Flints spring with fountains at his word,
And fires and seas confess their Lord."

certain carelessness, that constantly at tends all his actions, carries him on with greater success than diligence and assiduity does others who have no share in this endowment. Dacinthus breaks his word upon all occasions, both trivial and important; and, when he is sufficiently railed at for that abominable quality, they who talk of him end with, After all, he is a very pleasant fellow.' Dacinthus is an ill-natur'MR. SPECTATOR,-There are those ed husband, and yet the very women end who take the advantage of your putting a their freedom of discourse upon this subhalfpenny value upon yourself, above the ject, But, after all, he is very pleasant rest of our daily writers, to defame you in company.' Dacinthus is neither, in point public conversation, and strive to make you of honour, civility, good-breeding, or goodunpopular upon the account of this said nature, unexceptionable; and yet all is anhalfpenny. But, if I were you, I would in-swered, For he is a very pleasant fellow.' sist upon that small acknowledgment for When this quality is conspicuous in a man the superior merit of yours, as being a work who has, to accompany it, manly and virof invention. Give me leave, therefore, to tuous sentiments, there cannot certainly be do you justice, and say in your behalf, any thing which can give so pleasing a what you cannot yourself, which is, that gratification as the gayety of such a person; your writings have made learning a more but when it is alone, and serves only to gild a crowd of ill qualities, there is no man so necessary part of good-breeding than it was before you appeared; that modesty is be- much to be avoided as your pleasant fellow. come fashionable, and impudence stands in A very pleasant fellow shall turn your good need of some wit, since you have put them name to a jest, make your character conboth in their proper lights. Profaneness, temptible, debauch your wife or daughter, lewdness, and debauchery, are not now and yet be received by the rest of the world with welcome wherever he appears. It is qualifications; and a man may be a very fine gentleman, though he is neither a very ordinary with those of this character to be attentive only to their own satisfackeeper nor an infidel. tions, and have very little bowels for the concerns or sorrows of other men; nay, they are capable of purchasing their own pleasures at the expense of giving pain to others. But they who do not consider this sort of men thus carefully, are irreauthor of the following letter carries the sistibly exposed to their insinuations. The matter so high, as to intimate that the liberties of England have been at the mercy of a prince, merely as he was of this pleasant character.

'I would have you tell the town the story of the Sibyls, if they deny giving you two pence. Let them know, that those sacred papers were valued at the same rate after two thirds of them were destroyed, as when there was the whole set. There are so many of us who will give you your own price, that you may acquaint your non-conformist readers, that they shall not have it, except they come in within such a day, under three pence. I do not know but might bring in the Date Obolum Belisario with a good grace. The witlings come in clusters to two or three coffee-houses

you

which have left you off; and I hope you will make us, who fine to your wit, merry with their characters who stand out against it. I am your most humble servant.

'P. S. I have lately got the ingenious authors of blacking for shoes, powder for colouring the hair, pomatum for the hands, cosmetic for the face, to be your constant customers; so that your advertisements will as much adorn the outward man, as your paper does the inward.'

T.

No. 462.] Wednesday, August 20, 1712.
Nil ego prætulerim jocundo sanus amico.
Hor. Sat. v. Lib. 1. 44.
Nothing so grateful as a pleasant friend.
PEOPLE are not aware of the very great
force which pleasantry in company has
upon all those with whom a man of that
talent converses. His faults are generally
overlooked by all his acquaintance; and a

'MR. SPECTATOR,-There is no one give into as pride, or any other passion passion which all mankind so naturally which appears in such different disguises: it is to be found in all habits and complexions. It is not a question, whether it does more harm or good in the world; and if there be not such a thing as what we may call a virtuous and laudable pride?

It is this passion alone, when misapplied, that lays us so open to flatterers; and he who can agreeably condescend to soothe our humour or temper, finds always an open avenue to our soul; especially if the flatterer happen to be our superior.

'One might give many instances of this in a late English monarch, under the title of "The gayeties of king Charles II." This prince was by nature extremely familiar, of very easy access, and much delighted to see and be seen; and this happy temper, which in the highest degree gratified his people's vanity, did him more service with his loving subjects than all

and did the crown many and great services;
and it was owing to this humour of the king
that his family had so great a fortune shut

sovereign. The many good-natured conde-
scensions of this prince are vulgarly known;
and it is excellently said of him, by a great
handt which writ his character, "That he
was not a king a quarter of an hour toge-
ther in his whole reign.'
He would re-

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his other virtues, though it must be confessed he had many. He delighted, though a mighty king, to give and take a jest, as they say: and a prince of this fortunate dis-up in the exchequer of their pleasant position, who were inclined to make an ill use of his power, may have any thing of his people, be it never so much to their prejudice. But this good king made generally a very innocent use, as to the public of this ensnaring temper; for, it is well known he pursued pleasure more than am-ceive visits even from fools and half madbition. He seemed to glory in being the men, and at times I have met with people first man at cock-matches, horse-races, who have boxed, fought at back-sword, balls, and plays; he appeared highly de- and taken poison before king Charles II. lighted on those occasions, and never failed In a word, he was so pleasant a man, that to warm and gladden the heart of every no one could be sorrowful under his governspectator. He more than once dined with ment. This made him capable of baffling, his good citizens of London on their lord- with the greatest ease imaginable, all sugmayor's day, and did so the year that Sir gestions of jealousy; and the people could Robert Viner was mayor. Sir Robert was not entertain notions of any thing terrible a very loyal man, and, if you will allow the in him, whom they saw every way agreeexpression, very fond of his sovereign; but, able. This scrap of the familiar part of what with the joy he felt at heart for the that prince's history I thought fit to send honour done him by his prince, and through you, in compliance to the request you lately the warmth he was in with continual toast-made to your correspondents. I am, sir, ing healths to the royal family, his lordship your most humble servant,'

grew a little fond of his majesty, and en

tered into a familiarity not altogether so graceful in so public a place. The king

T.

understood very well how to extricate him- No. 463.] Thursday, August 21, 1712.

self in all kinds of difficulties, and, with a hint to the company to avoid ceremony, stole off and made towards his coach, which stood ready for him in Guildhallyard. But the mayor liked his company so well, and was grown so intimate, that he pursued him hastily, and catching him fast by the hand, cried out with a vehement oath and accent, Sir, you shall stay and take t'other bottle." The airy monarch looked kindly at him over his shoulder, and with a smile and graceful air (for I saw him at the time, and do now) repeated this line of the old song:

"He that is drunk is as great as a king ;" and immediately turned back and complied with his landlord.

I give you this story, Mr. Spectator, because, as I said, I saw the passage; and I assure you it is very true, and yet no common one; and when I tell you the sequel, you will say I have a better reason for it. This very mayor, afterwards erected a statue of his merry monarch in Stocks-market,

Omnia quæ sensu volvuntur vota diurno,
Pectore sopito reddit amica quies.
Venator defessa toro cum membra reponit,
Mens tamen ad sylvas et sua lustra redit:
Judicibus lites, auriga somnia currus.
Vanaque nocturnis meta cavetur equis.
Me quoque Musarum studium sub nocte silenti
Claud
Artibus assuetis solicitare solet.

In sleep when fancy is let loose to play,
Our dreams repeat the wishes of the day.
Though farther toils his tired limbs refuse,
The dreaming hunter still the chase pursues.
The judge a-bed dispenses still the laws
And sleeps again o'er the unfinish'd cause.
The dozing racer hears his chariot roll,
Smacks the vain whip, and shuns the fancy'd goal.
Me too the Muses, in the silent night,

With wonted chimes of jingling verse delight.
I WAS lately entertaining myself with
comparing Homer's balance, in which Ju-
piter is represented as weighing the fates
of Hector and Achilles, with a passage of
Virgil, wherein that deity is introduced as
weighing the fates of Turnus and Æneas.
I then considered how the same way of
thinking prevailed in the eastern parts of
the world, as in those noble passages of
Scripture, wherein we are told, that the
great king of Babylon, the day before his
death, had been weighed in the balance,
and been found wanting.' In other places
of the holy writings, the Almighty is de-
scribed as weighing the mountains in scales,
making the weight for the winds, knowing
the balancings of the clouds; and in others,
as weighing the actions of men, and laying
their calamities together in a balance.

"The Mansion-house and many adjacent buildings, stand on the site of Stocks-market; which took its name from a pair of stocks for the punishment of of fenders, erected in an open place near this spot, as early as the year 1281. This was the great market of the city during many centuries. In it stood the famous equestrian statue erected in honour of Charles II. by his most loyal subject sir Robert Viner, lord-mayor Fortunately his lordship discovered one (made at Leghorn) of John Sobieski, King of Poland, trampling on a Turk. The good knight caused some alterations to be made, and christened the Polish Monarch by the name of Charles, and bestowed on the turbaned Turk that of Oliver Cromwell; and thus, new named, it arose on common-council, on Robert Viner, Esq. who removed this spot in honour of his convivial monarch. The statue was removed in 1738, to make room for the Mansion-house. It remained many years afterward in an inn-yard; and in 1779 it was bestowed, by the

it to grace his country-seat.-Pennant's London, p. 368. Sheffield duke of Buckingham, who said, that, on a premeditation, Charles II. could not act the part of a king for a moment.

Milton, as I have observed in a former paper, had an eye to several of these foregoing instances in that beautiful description, wherein he represents the archangel and the evil spirit as addressing themselves for the combat, but parted by the balance which appeared in the heavens, and weighed the consequences of such a battle.

Th' Eternal to prevent such horrid fray,
Hung forth in heav'n his golden scales, yet seen
Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign:
Wherein all things created first he weigh'd,
The pendulous round earth, with balanc'd air,
In counterpoise, now ponders all events,
Battles and realms; in these he put two weights,
The sequel each of parting and of fight,
The latter quick upflew and kick'd the beam;
Which Gabriel spying, thus bespake the fiend:
"Satan, I know thy strength, and thou know'st mine,
Neither our own, but giv'n. What folly then
To boast what arms can do, since thine no more

Than heav'n permits; nor mine, though doubled now To trample thee as mire! For proof look up, And read thy lot in yon celestial sign, [weak, Where thou art weigh'd and shown how light, how If thou resist." The fiend look'd up, and knew His mounted scale aloft; nor more but fled Murm'ring, and with him fled the shades of night.' These several amusing thoughts having taken possession of my mind some time before I went to sleep, and mingling themselves with my ordinary ideas, raised in my imagination a very odd kind of vision. I was, methought, replaced in my study, and seated in my elbow-chair, where I had indulged the foregoing speculations with my lamp burning by me as usual. Whilst I was here meditating on several subjects of morality, and considering the nature of many virtues and vices, as materials for those discourses with which I daily entertain the public, I saw, methought a pair of golden scales hanging by a chain of the same metal, over the table that stood before me; when, on a sudden, there were great heaps of weights thrown down on each side of them. I found, upon examining these weights, they showed the value of every thing that is in esteem among men. I made an essay of them, by putting the weight of wisdom in one scale, and that of riches in another; upon which the latter, to show its comparative lightness, immediately flew up and kicked the beam.

But, before I proceed, I must inform my reader, that these weights did not exert their natural gravity till they were laid in the golden balance, insomuch that I could not guess which was light or heavy whilst I held them in my hand. This I found by several instances; for upon my laying a weight in one of the scales, which was inscribed by the word Eternity,' though I threw in that of Time, Prosperity, Affliction, Wealth, Poverty, Interest, Success, with many other weights, which in my hand seemed very ponderous, they were not able to stir the opposite balance; nor could they have prevailed, though assisted with the weight of the Sun, the Stars, and the Earth.

Upon emptying the scales, I laid several titles and honours, with Pomp, Triumphs, VCL. II.

27

and many weights of the like nature, in one of them; and seeing a little glittering weight lie by me, I threw it accidentally into the other scale, when, to my great surprise, it proved so exact a counterpoise, that it kept the balance in an equilibrium. This little glittering weight was inscribed upon the edges of it with the word Vanity.' I found there were several other weights which were equally heavy, and exact counterpoises to one another; a few of them I tried, as Avarice and Poverty, Riches and Content, with some others.

There were likewise several weights that were of the same figure, and seemed to cor respond with each other, but were entirely different when thrown into the scales; as Religion and Hypocrisy, Pedantry and Learning, Wit and Vivacity, Superstition and Devotion, Gravity and Wisdom, with many others.

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I observed one particular weight lettered on both sides; and upon applying myself to the reading of it, I found on one side written, In the dialect of men,' and underneath it, Calamities:' on the other side was written, In the language of the gods,' and underneath Blessings.' I found the intrinsic value of this weight to be much greater than I imagined, for it overpowered Health, Wealth, Good-fortune, and many other weights, which were much more ponderous in my hand than the other.

There is a saying among the Scotch, that an ounce of mother-wit is worth a pound of clergy: I was sensible of the truth of this saying, when I saw the difference between the weight of Natural Parts and that of Learning. The observations which I made upon these two weights opened to me a new field of discoveries; for notwithstanding the weight of Natural Parts was much heavier than that of Learning, I observed that it weighed a hundred times heavier than it did before, when I put Learning into the same scale with it. I made the same observation upon Faith and Morality; for, notwithstanding the latter outweighed the former separately, it received a thousand times more additional weight from its conjunction with the former, than what it had by itself. This odd phenomenon showed itself in other particulars, as in Wit and Judgment, Philosophy and Religion, Justice and Humanity, Zeal and Charity, depth of Sense and perspicuity of Style, with innumerable other particulars too long to be mentioned in this paper.

As a dream seldom fails of dashing seriousness with impertinence, mirth with gravity, methought I made several other experiments of a more ludicrous nature, by one of which I found that an English octavo was very often heavier than a French folio; and, by another, that an old Greek or Latin author weighed down a whole library of moderns. Seeing one of my Spectators lying by me, I laid it into one of the scales, and flung a twe-penny piece into

the other. The reader will not inquire into the event, if he remembers the first trial which I have recorded in this paper. I afterwards threw both the sexes into the balance; but as it is not for my interest to disoblige either of them, I shall desire to be excused from telling the result of this experiment. Having an opportunity of this nature in my hands, I could not forbear throwing into one scale the principles of a Tory, and into the other those of a Whig; but, as I have all along declared this to be a neutral paper, I shall likewise desire to be silent under this head also, though upon examining one of the weights, I saw the word 'TEKEL' engraven on it in capital

letters.

ing of wisdom. Poverty turns our thoughts too much upon the supplying of our wants, and riches, upon enjoying our superfluities; and, as Cowley has said in another case, It is hard for a man to keep a steady eye upon truth, who is always in a battle or a triumph.'

If we regard poverty and wealth, as they are apt to produce virtues or vices in the mind of man, one may observe that there is a set of each of these growing out of poverty, quite different from that which rises out of wealth. Humility and patience, industry and temperance, are very often the good qualities of a poor man. Humanity, and good-nature, magnanimity and a sense of honour, are as often the qualifi I made many other experiments; and cations of the rich. On the contrary, pothough I have not room for them all in this verty is apt to betray a man into envy, day's speculation, I may perhaps reserve riches into arrogance; poverty is too often them for another. I shall only add, that upon attended with fraud, vicious compliance, my awaking, I was sorry to find my golden repining, murmur and discontent. Riches scales vanished; but resolved for the future expose a man to pride and luxury, a foolto learn this lesson from them, not to de-ish elation of heart, and too great a fondspise or value any thing for their appear-ness for the present world. In short, the ances, but to regulate my esteem and passions towards them according to their real

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C.

Hor. Od. x. Lib. 2. 5.

The golden mean, as she's too nice to dwell
Among the ruins of a filthy cell,

So is her modesty withal as great,

To balk the envy of a princely seat.-Norris.

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I AM wonderfully pleased when I meet with any passage in an old Greek or Latin author that is not blown upon, and which I have never met with in a quotation. Of this kind is a beautiful saying in Theognis: 'Vice is covered by wealth, and virtue by poverty; or to give it in the verbal translation, Among men there are some who have their vices concealed by wealth, and others who have their virtues concealed by poverty.' Every man's observation will supply him with instances of rich men, who have several faults and defects that are overlooked, if not entirely hidden, by means of their riches; and I think, we cannot find a more natural description of a poor man, whose merits are lost in his poverty, than that in the words of the wise man: There was a little city, and few men within it; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it. Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he, by his wisdom, delivered the city; yet no man remembered that same poor man. Then, said I, wisdom is better than strength; nevertheless, the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.'

The middle condition seems to be the most advantageously situated for the gain

middle condition is most eligible to the man who would improve himself in virtue; as I have before shown it is the most advantageous for the gaining of knowledge. It was upon this consideration that Agur founded his prayer, which, for the wisdom of it, is recorded in holy writ. Two things have I required of thee; deny me them not before I die. Remove far from me vanity and lies, give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.'

I shall fill the remaining part of my paper with a very pretty allegory, which is wrought into a play by Aristophanes the Greek comedian. It seems originally designed as a satire upon the rich, though, in some parts of it, it is like the foregoing discourse, a kind of comparison between wealth and poverty.

but,

Chremylus, who was an old and a good man, and withal exceeding poor, being desirous to leave some riches to his son, consults the oracle of Apollo upon the subject. The oracle bids him follow the first man he should see upon his going out of the temple. The person he chanced to see was to appearance an old sordid blind man, upon his following him from place to place, he at last found, by his own confession, that he was Plutus the god of riches, and that he was just come out of the house of a miser. Plutus farther told him, that when he was a boy, he used to declare, that as soon as he came to age he would distribute wealth to none but virtuous and just men; upon which Jupiter considering the pernicious conse quences of such a resolution, took his sight away from him, and left him to stroll about the world in the blind condition wherein Chremylus beheld him. With much ado Chremylus prevailed upon him to go to his

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