т.

"Your obliged humble Servant."

cases of conscience are determined by his attorney. you; for I do not care whether they say of me ather Such men know not what it is to gladden the heart I am dead, that I had a hundred or fifty thousand of a miserable man; that riches are the instruments pounds more than I wanted when I was living. of serving the purposes of heaven or heil, according to the disposition of the possessor. The wealthy can torment or gratify all who are in their power, and choose to do one or other, as they are affected with love, or hatred to mankind. As for such who are insensible of the concerns of others, but merely as they affect themselves, these men are to be valued only for their mortality, and as we hope better things

No. 457. THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 1712.
-Multa et præclara minantis. Hon. 2 Sat. iii. 9.
Seeming to promise something wondrous great.

I SHALL this day lay before my readers a letter from their heirs. I could not but read with great written by the same hand with that of last Friday, which contained proposals for a printed newspaper that should take in the whole circle of the penny-pust "SIR,

delight a letter from an eminent citizen, who has failed, to one who was intimate with him in his better fortune, and able by his countenance to retrieve his lost condition.

"The kind reception you gave my last Friday's letter, in which I broached my project of a news. paper, encourages me to lay before you two or three more; for, you must know, Sir, that we look upon you to be the Lowndes of the learned world, and cannot think any scheme practicable or rational before you have approved of it, though all the money we raise by it is on our own funds, and for our pri vate use.

"It is in vain to multiply words and make apologies for what is never to be defended by the best advocate in the world, the guilt of being unfortunate. All that a man in my condition can do or say, will be received with prejudice by the generality of mankind, but I hope not with you: you have been a great instrument in helping me to get what I have lost; and I know (for that reason, as well "I have often thought that a news-letter of as kindness to me) you cannot but be in pain to see whispers, written every post, and sent about the me undone. To show you I am not a man inca- kingdom, after the same manner as that of Mr. Dyer, pable of bearing calamity, I will, though a poor Mr. Dawkes, or any other epistolary historian, man, lay aside the distinction between us, and talk might be highly gratifying to the public, as well with the frankness we did when we were nearer to as beneficial to the author. By whispers I mean an equality; as all I do will be received with pre- those pieces of news which are commutiicated as sejudice, all you do will be looked upon with partial- crets, and which bring a double pleasure to the ity. What I desire of you is, that you, who are hearer; first, as they are private history; and, in by all, would smile upon me, who am the next place, as they have always in them a dish

courted

shunned by all. Let that grace and favour which your fortune throws upon you, be turned to make up the coldness and indifference that is used towards tue. All good and generous men will have an eye of kindness for me for my own sake, and the rest of the world will regard me for yours. There is a

of scandal. These are the two chief qualifications in an article of news, which recommend it, in a more than ordinary manner, to the ears of the curious. Sickness of persons in high posts, twilight visits paid and received by ministers of state, clandestine courtships and marriages, secret amours, losses at play,

happy contagion in riches, as well as a destructive applications for places, with their respective surone in poverty: the rich can make rich without cesses or repulses, are the materials in which I parting with any of their store; and the conversa- chiefly intend to deal. I have two persons, that are tion of the poor makes men poor, though they bor- each of them the representative of a species, who row nothing of them. How this is to be accounted are to furnish me with those whispers which I intend

for I know not; but men's estimation follows us according to the company we keep. If you are what you were to me, you can go a great way towards my recovery; if you are not, my good fortune, if it ever returns, will return by slower reproaches.

to convey to my correspondents. The first of these is Peter Hush, descended from the ancient family of the Hushes. The other is the old Lady Blast, who has a very numerous tribe of daughters in the two great cities of London and Westminster. Peter Hush has a whispering-hole in most of the great coffee-houses about town. If you are alone with him in a wide room, he carries you up into a corner of it, and speaks in your ear. I have seen Peter seat himself in a company of seven or eight persons, whom he never saw before in his life; and, after having looked about to see there was no one that

overheard him, has communicated to them in a low voice, and under the seal of secrecy, the death of a great man in the country, who was, perhaps, a foxhunting the very moment this account was given of him. If upon your entering a coffee-house you see a circle of heads bending over the table, and lying

"I am very glad to hear that you have heart enough to begin the world a second time. I assure you, I do not think your numerous family at all diminished (in the gifts of nature, for which I have close to one another, it is ten to one but my friend ever so much admired them) by what has so lately Peter is among them. I have known Peter publish happened to you. I shall not only countenance ing the whisper of the day by eight o'clock in the your affairs with my appearance for you, but shall morning at Garraway's, by twelve at Will's, and accommodate you with a considerable sum at com- befere two at the Smyrna. When Peter has thus mon interest for three years. You know I could make more of it; but I have so great a love for

you, that I can wave opportunities of gain to help Mint.

Secretary at this time of the Treasury, and director of the

effectually launched a secret, I have been very well pleased to hear people whispering it to one another at second-hand, and spreading it about as their own; for vou must know, Sir, the great incentive to whispering is the ambinon whica every one has of being thougat in the secret, and being looked upon as a man who has access to greater people than one would imagine. After having given you this account of Peter Hush, I proceed to that virtuous lady, the old Lady Blast, who is to communicate to me the private transactions of the crimp-table, with all the arcana of the fair sex. The Lady Blast, you must

No. 458.] FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 1712.

Pudor malus

False modesty.

HOR.

525

I COULD not but smile at the account that was

yesterday given me of a modest young gentleman, who, being invited to an entertainment, though he was not used to drink, had not the confidence to refuse his glass in his turn, when on a sudden he grew so flustered, that he took all the talk of the table into his own hands, abused every one of the company, and flung a bottle at the gentleman's

understand, has such a particular malignity in her head who treated him. This has given me occasion whisper, that it blights like an easterly wind, and to reflect upon the ill effects of a vicious modesty, withers every reputation it breathes upon. She has and to remember the saying of Brutus, as it is a particular knack at making private weddings, and quoted by Plutarch, that "the person has had but last winter married about five women of quality to an ill education, who has not been taught to deny their footmen. Her whisper can make an innocent any thing." This false kind of modesty has, peryoung woman big with child, or fill a healthful haps, betrayed both sexes into as many vices as the young fellow with distempers that are not to be most abandoned impudence; and is the more vinex

named. She can turn a visit into an intrigue, and a distant salute into an assignation. She can beggar the wealthy, and degrade the noble. In short, she can whisper men base or foolish, jealous or ill-natured; or, if occasion requires can tell you the slips of their great grandmothers, and traduce the memory of honest coachmen that have been in their graves above these hundred years. By these and the like helps, I question not but I shall furnish out a very handsome news-letter. If you approve my project, I shall begin to whisper by the very next post, and question not but every one of my customers will be very well pleased with me, when he considers that every piece of news I send him is a word in his ear, aad lets him into a secret.

"laving given you a sketch of this project, I shall, in the next place, suggest to you another for a monthly pamphlet, which I shall likewise submit to your spectatorial wisdom. I need not tell you, Sir, that there are several authors in France, Germany, and Holland, well as in our own country, who publish every month what they call, An Account of the Works of the Learned, in which they give us an abstract of all such books as are

as

printed in

cusable to reason, because it acts to gratify others rather than itself, and is punished with a kind of remorse, not only like other vicious habits when the crime is over, but even at the very time that it is committed.

to

Nothing is more amiable than true modesty, and nothing is more contemptible than the false. The one guards virtue, the other betrays it. True modesty is ashamed to do any thing that is repugnant the rules of right reason: false modesty is ashamed to do any thing that is opposite to the humour of the company. True modesty avoids every thing that is criminal, false modesty every thing that is unfashionable. The latter is only a general undetermined instinct; the former is that instinct, limited and cir

cumscribed by the rules of prudence and religion. We may conclude that modesty to be false and vicious which engages a man to do any thing that

is ill or indiscreet, or which restrains him from doing any thing that is of a contrary nature. How many men, in the common concerns of life, lend sums of money which they are not able to spare, are bound for persons whom they have but little friendship for, give recommendatory characters of men whom they are not acquainted with, bestow places on those whom they do not esteem, live in such a manner as they themselves do not approve, and all this merely merely because they have not the confidence to resist solicitation, importunity, or example!

any part of Europe. Now, Sir, it is my design to publish every month, An Account of the Works of the Unlearned. Several late productions of my own countrymen, who many of them make a very eminent figure in the illiterate world, encourage me in this undertaking. I may in this work possibly make a review of several pieces which have appeared u the foreign accounts above mentioned, though they ought not to have been taken notice of in timorous, because he would not venture his money works which bear such a title. I may likewise take in a game at dice: "I confess," said he, "that I

into consideration such pieces as appear, from time to time, under the names of those gentlemen who compliment one another in public assemblies by the the learned gentlemen.' Our party-authors of subjects, Bot great variety

title of

Nor does this false modesty expose us only to such actions as are indiscreet, but very often to such as are highly criminal. When Xenophanes was called

am exceeding timorous, for I dare not do an ill thing." g." On the contrary, a man of vicious modesty in the company where complies with every thing, and is only fearful of doing what may look singular he is engaged. He falls in with the torrent, and

will also afford me a great to mention the editors, commentators, and others, lets himself go to every action or discourse, however

who are often men of no learning, or, what is as
bad, of no knowledge. I shall not enlarge upon
this hint; but, if you think any thing can be made
I shall set about it with all the pains and ap-

of it.
plication that so useful a work deserves..
"I am ever,

1

"Most worthy Sir," &c..

Mr. Michael de la Roche. 38 vols. 8vo. in Engl. under diffateat titles and in Fr. 8 tomes, 24mo.

unjustifiable in itself, so it be in vogue among the present party. This, though one of the most common, is one of the most ridiculous dispositions in human nature, that men should not be ashamed of speaking or acting in a dissolute or irrational man

ner, but that one who is in their company should be ashamed of governing himself by the principles of reason and virtue.

In the second place, we are to consider false modesty, as it restrains a man from doing what is good and laudable. My reader's own thoughts will suggest to him many instances and examples under this head. I shall only dwell upon one reflection, which I cannot make without a secret concern. We have in England a particular bashfulness in every thing that regards religion. A well-bred man is obliged to conceal any serious sentiment of this nature, and very often to appear a greater libertine than he is, that he may keep himself in countenance among the men of mode. Our excess of modesty makes us shame-faced in all the exercises of piety and devotion. This humour prevails upon us daily; insomuch that, at many well-bred tables, the master of the house is so very modest a man, that he has not the confidence to say grace at his own table: a custom which is not only practised by all the nations about us, but was never omitted by the heathens themselves. English gentlemen, who travel into Romancatholic countries, are not a little surprised to meet with people of the best quality kneeling in their churches, and engaged in their private devotions, though it be not at the hours of public worship. An officer of the army, or a man of wit and pleasure, in those countries, would be afraid of passing not only for an irreligious, but an ill-bred man, should he be seen to go to bed, or sit down at table, without offering up his devotions on such occasions. The same show of religion appears in all the foreign reformed churches, and enters so much into their ordinary conversation, that an Englishman is apt to term them hypocritical and precise.

This little appearance of a religious deportment in our nation, may proceed in some measure from that modesty which is natural to us; but the great occasion of it is certainly this. Those swarms of sectaries that overran the nation in the time of the great rebellion carried their hypocrisy so high, that they had converted our whole language into a jargon of enthusiasm; insomuch that, upon the Restoration, men thought they could not recede too far from the behaviour and practice of those persons who had made religion a cloak to so many villanies, This led them into the other extreme; every appearance of devotion was looked upon as puritanical; and falling into the hands of the "ridiculers" who flourished in that reign, and attacked every thing that was serious, it has ever since been out of countenance among us. By this means, we are gradually fallen into that vicious modesty, which has in some measure worn out from among us the appearance of Christianity in ordinary life and conversation, and which distinguishes us from all our neighbours.

Hypocrisy cannot indeed be too much detested, but at the same time it is to be preferred to open impiety. They are both equally destructive to the person who is possessed with them; but, in regard to others, hypocrisy is not so pernicious as barefaced irreligion. The due mean to be observed is, "to be sincerely virtuous, and at the same time to let the world see we are so." I do not know a more dreadful menace in the holy writings, than that which is pronounced against those who have this perverted modesty, to be ashamed before men in a particular of such unspeakable importance.-C.

No. 409.] SATURDAY, AUGUST 16 1712.
-Quicquid dignum sapiente bonoque est.

Нок. 1 Ер iv. 5.
-Whate'er befits the wise and good.-CREECH.
RELIGION may be considered under two general
heads. The first comprehends what we are to be-

lieve, the other what we are to practise. By those things which we are to believe, I mean whatever is revealed to us in the holy writings, and which we could not have obtained the knowledge of by the light of nature; by the things which we are to practise, I mean all those duties to which we are directed by reason or natural religion. The first of these I shall distinguish by the name of faith, the second by that of morality.

If we look into the more serious part of mankind, we find many who lay so great a stress upon faith, that they neglect morality; and many who build so much upon morality, that they do not pay a due regard to faith. The perfect man should be defective in neither of these particulars, as will be very evident to those who consider the benefits which arise from each of them, and which I shall make the subject of this day's paper.

Notwithstanding this general division of Christian duty into morality and faith, and that they have both their peculiar excellences, the first has the pre-eminence in several respects.

First, Because the greatest part of morality (as I have stated the notion of it) is of a fixed eternal nature, and will endure when faith shall fail, and be lost in conviction.

Secondly, Because a person may be qualified to do greater good to mankind, and become more beneficial to the world, by morality without faith, than by faith without morality.

Thirdly, Because morality gives a greater perfection to human nature, by quieting the mind, moderating the passions, and advancing the happiness of every man in his private capacity.

Fourthly, Because the rule of morality is much more certain than that of faith, all the civilized nations of the world agreeing in the great points of morality, as much as they differ in those of faith. Fifthly, Because infidelity is not of so malignant a nature as immorality; or, to put the same reason in another light, because it is generally owned, there may be salvation for a virtuous infidel (particularly in the case of invincible ignorance), but none for a vicious believer.

Sixthly, Because faith seems to draw its principal, if not all its excellency, from the influence it has upon morality; as we shall see more at large, if we consider wherein consists the excellency of faith, or the belief of revealed religion; and this I think is, First, In explaining and carrying to greater heights several points of morality.

Secondly, In furnishing new and stronger motives to enforce the practice of morality.

Thirdly, In giving us more amiable ideas of the Supreme Being, more endearing notions of one another, and a truer state of ourselves, both in regard to the grandeur and vileness of our natures.

Fourthly, By showing us the blackness and deformity of vice, which in the Christian systein is so very great, that he who is possessed of all perfection, and the sovereign judge of it, is represented by several of our divines as hating sin to the same degree that he loves the sacred person who was made the propitiation of it.

Fifthly, In being the ordinary and prescribed method of making morality effectual to salvation.

I have only touched on these several heads, which every one who is conversant in discourses of this nature will easily enlarge upon in his own thoughts, and draw conclusions from them which may be useful to him in the conduct of his life. One 1 am sure is so obvious, that he cannot miss it, namely,

mata man cannot be perfect in his scheme of morality, who does not strengthen and support it with that of the Christian faith.

Besides this, I shall lay down two or three other maxims, which I think we may deduce from what has been said:

First, That we should be particularly cautious of making any thing an article of faith, which does not contribute to the confirmation or improvement of morality.

Secondly, That no article of faith can be true and authentic, which weakens or subverts the practical part of religion, or what I have hitherto called morality.

Thirdly, That the greatest friend of morality and natural religion cannot possibly apprehend any danger from embracing Christianity, as it is preserved pure and uncorrupt in the doctrines of our national church,

There is likewise another maxim which I think may be drawn from the foregoing considerations, which is this, that we should, in all dubious points, consider any ill consequences that may arise from them, supposing they should be erroneous, before we give up our assent to them.

For example, In that disputable point of persecuting men for conscience' sake, besides the imbittering their minds with hatred, indignation, and all the vehemence of resentment, and insnaring them to profess what they do not believe, we cut them off from the pleasures and advantages of society, afflict their bodies, distress their fortunes, hurt their reputations, ruin their families, make their lives painful, or put an end to them. Sure when I see such dreadail consequences rising from a principle, I would be as fully convinced of the truth of it, as of a mathematical demonstration, before I would venture to act upon it, or make it a part of my religion. In this case the injury done our neighbour is plain and evident: the principle that puts us upon

a false thought to some, and bear another turn than what I have given; but it is at present none of my business to look after it, who am going to confess that I have been lately amongst them in a vision.

Methought I was transported to a hill, green, flowery, and of an easy ascent. Upon the broad top of it resided squint-eyed Error, and Popular Opinion with many heads; two that dwelt in sorcery, and were famous for bewitching people with the love of themselves. To these repaired a multitude from every side, by two different paths which lead towards each of them. Some who had the most assuming air went directly of themselves to Error, without expecting a conductor; others of a softer nature went first to Popular Opinion, from whence, as she influenced and engaged them with their own praises, she delivered them over to his government.

When we had ascended to an open part of the summit where Opinion abode, we found her entertaining several who had arrived before us. Her voice was pleasing: she breathed odours as she spoke. She seemed to have a tongue for every one; every one thought he heard of something that was valuable in himself, and expected a paradise which she promised as the reward of nis merit. Thus were we drawn to follow her, till she should bring us where it was to be bestowed; and it was observable, that all the way we went, the company was either praising themselves for their qualifications, or one another for those qualifications which they took to be conspicuous in their own characters, or dispraising others for wanting theirs, or vying in the degrees of them.

At last we approached a bower, at the entrance of which Error was seated. The trees were thick woven, and the place where he sat artfully contrived to darken him a little. He was disguised in a whitish robe, which he had put on, that he might appear to us with a nearer resemblance to Truth; and

doing it, of a dubious and disputable nature. Mo- as she has a light whereby she manifests the beaurality seems highly violated by the one; and whether ties of nature to the eyes of her adorers, so he had or no a zeal for what a man thinks the true system provided himself with a magical wand, that he might of faith may justify it, is very uncertain. I cannot do something in imitation of it, and please with de

but think, if our religion produces charity as well as zeal, it will not be for showing itself by such cruel instances. But to conclude with the words of an excellent author, "We have just enough of religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love, one another."-С.

No. 460.1 MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 1712.
Decipimur specie recti.-Hor. Ars Poet. v. 25.

Déluded by a seeming excellence. RosCOMMON.

OUR defects and follies are too often unknown to s; nay, they are so far from being known to us, that they pass for demonstrations of our worth. This makes us easy in the midst of them, fond to show them, fond to improve them, and to be esteemed for them. Then it is that a thousand unaccountable conceits, gay inventions, and extravagant actions, must afford us pleasures, and display us to others in

the colours which we ourselves take a fancy to glory in. Indeed there is something so amusing for time in the state of vanity and ill-grounded satisfac

tion, that even the wiser world has chosen an
exalted word to describe its enchantments, and
called it "The Paradise of Fools."

Perhaps the latter part of this reflection may seem
The Gospel.

lusions. This he lifted solemnly, and, muttering to himself, bid the glories which he kept under enchantment to appear before us. Immediately we cast our eyes on that part of the sky to which he pointed, and observed a thin blue prospect, which cleared as mountains in a summer morning when the mist goes off, and the palace of Vanity appeared to sight.

The foundation seemed hardly a foundation, but a set of curling clouds, which it stood upon by magical contrivance. The way by which we ascended was painted like a rainbow: and as we went, the breeze that played about us, bewitched the senses. The walks were gilded all for show; the lowest set of pillars were of the slight fine Corinthian order, and the top of the building being rounded, bore so far the resemblance of a bubble.

At the gate the travellers neither met with a porter, nor waited till one should appear; every one thought his merits a sufficient passport, and pressed forward. In the hall we met with several phantoms,

that roved among us, and ranged the company aecording to their sentiments. There was decreasing Honour, that had nothing to show, but an old coat, of his ancestor's achievements. There was Ostentation, that made himself his own constant subject, and Gallantry strutting upon his tiptoes. At the upper end of the hall stood a throne, whose canopy glittered with all the riches that gaiety could contrive