X.
Some Thoughts concerning Education
, § 70. The references to
Suetonius and Plutarch's
Life of Cato
are from the preceding section.
Richard Busby; appointed in 1640.
The allusion is to Colonel Wake, father of Dr. William
Wake, who was Bishop of Lincoln when this paper was written, and because
in 1716 Archbishop of Canterbury. The trials of Penruddock and his
friends were in 1685.
Contents
|
Friday, February 29, 1712 |
Steele |
Tandem desine Matrem
Tempestiva sequi viro.
Hor.
Od. 23.
translation
Feb. 7, 1711-12.
Mr.
Spectator,
I am a young Man about eighteen Years of Age, and have been in Love
with a young Woman of the same Age about this half Year. I go to see
her six Days in the Week, but never could have the Happiness of being
with her alone. If any of her Friends are at home, she will see me in
their Company; but if they be not in the Way, she flies to her
Chamber. I can discover no Signs of her Aversion; but either a Fear of
falling into the Toils of Matrimony, or a childish Timidity, deprives
us of an Interview apart, and drives us upon the Difficulty of
languishing out our Lives in fruitless Expectation. Now, Mr.
Spectator, if you think us ripe for Œconomy, perswade the dear
Creature, that to pine away into Barrenness and Deformity under a
Mother's Shade, is not so honourable, nor does she appear so amiable,
as she would in full Bloom. [
There is a great deal left out before he
concludes] Mr.
Spectator,
Your humble Servant,
Bob Harmless.
If this Gentleman be really no more than Eighteen, I must do him the
Justice to say he is the most knowing Infant I have yet met with. He
does not, I fear, yet understand, that all he thinks of is another
Woman; therefore, till he has given a further Account of himself, the
young Lady is hereby directed to keep close to her Mother. The
Spectator
.
I cannot comply with the Request in Mr. Trott's Letter; but let it go
just as it came to my Hands, for being so familiar with the old
Gentleman, as rough as he is to him. Since Mr. Trott has an Ambition to
make him his Father-in-Law, he ought to treat him with more Respect;
besides, his Style to me might have been more distant than he has
thought fit to afford me: Moreover, his Mistress shall continue in her
Confinement, till he has found out which Word in his Letter is not
wrightly spelt.
Mr. Spectator,
I shall ever own my self your obliged humble Servant for the Advice
you gave me concerning my Dancing; which unluckily came too late: For,
as I said, I would not leave off Capering till I had your Opinion of
the Matter; was at our famous Assembly the Day before I received your
Papers, and there was observed by an old Gentleman, who was informed I
had a Respect for his Daughter; told me I was an insignificant little
Fellow, and said that for the future he would take Care of his Child;
so that he did not doubt but to crosse my amorous Inclinations. The
Lady is confined to her Chamber, and for my Part, am ready to hang my
self with the Thoughts that I have danced my self out of Favour with
her Father. I hope you will pardon the Trouble I give; but shall take
it for a mighty Favour, if you will give me a little more of your
Advice to put me in a write Way to cheat the old Dragon and obtain my
Mistress. I am once more,
Sir,
Your obliged humble Servant, John Trott.
York, Feb. 23, 1711-12.
Let me desire you to make what Alterations you please, and insert this
as soon as possible. Pardon Mistake by Haste.
I never do pardon Mistakes by Haste. The
Spectator
.
Feb. 27, 1711-12.
Sir,
Pray be so kind as to let me know what you esteem to be the chief
Qualification of a good Poet, especially of one who writes Plays; and
you will very much oblige,
Sir, Your very humble Servant, N. B.
To be a very well-bred Man. The
Spectator
.
Mr. Spectator,
You are to know that I am naturally Brave, and love Fighting as well
as any Man in England. This gallant Temper of mine makes me extremely
delighted with Battles on the Stage. I give you this Trouble to
complain to you, that Nicolini refused to gratifie me in that Part of
the Opera for which I have most Taste. I observe it's become a Custom,
that whenever any Gentlemen are particularly pleased with a Song, at
their crying out Encore or Altro Volto, the Performer is so obliging
as to sing it over again. I was at the Opera the last time Hydaspes
was performed. At that Part of it where the Heroe engages with the
Lion, the graceful Manner with which he put that terrible Monster to
Death gave me so great a Pleasure, and at the same time so just a
Sense of that Gentleman's Intrepidity and Conduct, that I could not
forbear desiring a Repetition of it, by crying out Altro Volto in a
very audible Voice; and my Friends flatter me, that I pronounced those
Words with a tolerable good Accent, considering that was but the third
Opera I had ever seen in my Life. Yet, notwithstanding all this, there
was so little Regard had to me, that the Lion was carried off, and
went to Bed, without being killed any more that Night. Now, Sir, pray
consider that I did not understand a Word of what Mr. Nicolini said to
this cruel Creature; besides, I have no Ear for Musick; so that during
the long Dispute between 'em, the whole Entertainment I had was from
my Eye; Why then have not I as much Right to have a graceful Action
repeated as another has a pleasing Sound, since he only hears as I
only see, and we neither of us know that there is any reasonable thing
a doing? Pray, Sir, settle the Business of this Claim in the Audience,
and let us know when we may cry Altro Volto, Anglicè, again, again,
for the Future. I am an Englishman, and expect some Reason or other to
be given me, and perhaps an ordinary one may serve; but I expect your
Answer.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
Toby Rentfree.
Nov. 29.
Mr. Spectator,
You must give me Leave, amongst the rest of your Female
Correspondents, to address you about an Affair which has already given
you many a Speculation; and which, I know, I need not tell you have
had a very happy Influence over the adult Part of our Sex: But as many
of us are either too old to learn, or too obstinate in the Pursuit of
the Vanities which have been bred up with us from our Infancy, and all
of us quitting the Stage whilst you are prompting us to act our Part
well; you ought, methinks, rather to turn your Instructions for the
Benefit of that Part of our Sex, who are yet in their native
Innocence, and ignorant of the Vices and that Variety of Unhappinesses
that reign amongst us.
I must tell you, Mr. Spectator, that it is as much a Part of your
Office to oversee the Education of the female Part of the Nation, as
well as of the Male; and to convince the World you are not partial,
pray proceed to detect the Male Administration of Governesses as
successfully as you have exposed that of Pedagogues; and rescue our
Sex from the Prejudice and Tyranny of Education as well as that of
your own, who without your seasonable Interposition are like to
improve upon the Vices that are now in vogue.
I who know the Dignity of your Post, as Spectator, and the Authority a
skilful Eye ought to bear in the Female World, could not forbear
consulting you, and beg your Advice in so critical a Point, as is that
of the Education of young Gentlewomen. Having already provided myself
with a very convenient House in a good Air, I'm not without Hope but
that you will promote this generous Design. I must farther tell you,
Sir, that all who shall be committed to my Conduct, beside the usual
Accomplishments of the Needle, Dancing, and the French Tongue, shall
not fail to be your constant Readers. It is therefore my humble
Petition, that you will entertain the Town on this important Subject,
and so far oblige a Stranger, as to raise a Curiosity and Enquiry in
my Behalf, by publishing the following Advertisement.
I am, Sir,
Your constant Admirer,
M. W.
T.
Contents
The Boarding-School for young Gentlewomen, which was formerly kept on
Mile-End-Green, being laid down, there is now one set up almost opposite
to it at the two Golden-Balls, and much more convenient in every
Respect; where, beside the common Instructions given to young
Gentlewomen, they will be taught the whole Art of Paistrey and
Preserving, with whatever may render them accomplished. Those who please
to make Tryal of the Vigilance and Ability of the Persons concerned may
enquire at the two Golden-Balls on Mile-End-Green near Stepney, where
they will receive further Satisfaction.
This is to give Notice, that the Spectator has taken upon him to be
Visitant of all Boarding-Schools, where young Women are educated; and
designs to proceed in the said Office after the same Manner that the
Visitants of Colleges do in the two famous Universities of this Land.
All Lovers who write to the Spectator, are desired to forbear one
Expression which is in most of the Letters to him, either out of
Laziness, or want of Invention, and is true of not above two thousand
Women in the whole World; viz.
She has in her all that is valuable in
Woman.
|
Saturday, March 1, 1712 |
Addison |
Nec deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus
Inciderit.
Hor.
translation
advises a Poet to consider thoroughly the Nature and Force of his
Genius
.
Milton
seems to have known perfectly well, wherein his
Strength lay, and has therefore chosen a Subject entirely conformable to
those Talents, of which he was Master. As his Genius was wonderfully
turned to the Sublime, his Subject is the noblest that could have
entered into the Thoughts of Man. Every thing that is truly great and
astonishing, has a place in it. The whole System of the intellectual
World; the
Chaos
, and the Creation; Heaven, Earth and Hell; enter into
the Constitution of his Poem.
Having in the First and Second Books represented the Infernal World with
all its Horrors, the Thread of his Fable naturally leads him into the
opposite Regions of Bliss and Glory.
If
Milton's
Majesty forsakes him any where, it is in those Parts of his
Poem, where the Divine Persons are introduced as Speakers. One may, I
think, observe that the Author proceeds with a kind of Fear and
Trembling, whilst he describes the Sentiments of the Almighty. He dares
not give his Imagination its full Play, but chuses to confine himself to
such Thoughts as are drawn from the Books of the most Orthodox Divines,
and to such Expressions as may be met with in Scripture. The Beauties,
therefore, which we are to look for in these Speeches, are not of a
Poetical Nature, nor so proper to fill the Mind with Sentiments of
Grandeur, as with Thoughts of Devotion. The Passions, which they are
designed to raise, are a Divine Love and Religious Fear. The Particular
Beauty of the Speeches in the Third Book, consists in that Shortness and
Perspicuity of Style, in which the Poet has couched the greatest
Mysteries of Christianity, and drawn together, in a regular Scheme, the
whole Dispensation of Providence, with respect to Man. He has
represented all the abstruse Doctrines of Predestination, Free-Will and
Grace, as also the great Points of Incarnation and Redemption, (which
naturally grow up in a Poem that treats of the Fall of Man) with great
Energy of Expression, and in a clearer and stronger Light than I ever
met with in any other Writer. As these Points are dry in themselves to
the generality of Readers, the concise and clear manner in which he has
treated them, is very much to be admired, as is likewise that particular
Art which he has made use of in the interspersing of all those Graces of
Poetry, which the Subject was capable of receiving.
The Survey of the whole Creation, and of every thing that is transacted
in it, is a Prospect worthy of Omniscience; and as much above that, in
which
Virgil
has drawn his
Jupiter
, as the Christian Idea of the Supreme
Being is more Rational and Sublime than that of the Heathens. The
particular Objects on which he is described to have cast his Eye, are
represented in the most beautiful and lively Manner.
Now had th' Almighty Father from above,
(From the pure Empyrean where he sits
High thron'd above all height) bent down his Eye,
His own Works and their Works at once to view.
About him all the Sanctities of Heav'n
Stood thick as Stars, and from his Sight received
Beatitude past utt'rance: On his right
The radiant Image of his Glory sat,
His only Son. On earth he first beheld
Our two first Parents, yet the only two
Of Mankind, in the happy garden plac'd,
Reaping immortal fruits of Joy and Love;
Uninterrupted Joy, unrival'd Love
In blissful Solitude. He then surveyed
Hell and the Gulph between, and Satan there
Coasting the Wall of Heaven on this side Night,
In the dun air sublime; and ready now
To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feel
On the bare outside of this world, that seem'd
Firm land imbosom'd without firmament;
Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air.
Him God beholding from his prospect high,
Wherein past, present, future he beholds,
Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake.
Satan's
Approach to the Confines of the Creation, is finely imaged in
the beginning of the Speech, which immediately follows. The Effects of
this Speech in the blessed Spirits, and in the Divine Person to whom it
was addressed, cannot but fill the Mind of the Reader with a secret
Pleasure and Complacency.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd
All Heav'n, and in the blessed Spirits elect
Sense of new Joy ineffable diffus'd.
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen
Most glorious, in him all his Father shone
Substantially expressed, and in his face
Divine Compassion visibly appeared,
Love without end, and without measure Grace.
I need not point out the Beauty of that Circumstance, wherein the whole
Host of Angels are represented as standing Mute; nor shew how proper the
Occasion was to produce such a Silence in Heaven. The Close of this
Divine Colloquy, with the Hymn of Angels that follows upon it, are so
wonderfully Beautiful and Poetical, that I should not forbear inserting
the whole Passage, if the Bounds of my Paper would give me leave.
No sooner had th' Almighty ceas'd, but all
The multitudes of Angels with a shout
(Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest Voices) utt'ring Joy, Heav'n rung
With Jubilee, and loud Hosanna's fill'd
Th' eternal regions; &c. &c.--
Satan's
Walk upon the Outside of the Universe, which, at a Distance,
appeared to him of a globular Form, but, upon his nearer Approach,
looked like an unbounded Plain, is natural and noble: As his Roaming
upon the Frontiers of the Creation between that Mass of Matter, which
was wrought into a World, and that shapeless unformed Heap of Materials,
which still lay in Chaos and Confusion, strikes the Imagination with
something astonishingly great and wild. I have before spoken of the
Limbo of Vanity,
which the Poet places upon this outermost Surface of
the Universe, and shall here explain my self more at large on that, and
other Parts of the Poem, which are of the same Shadowy Nature.
Aristotle
observes
, that the Fable of an Epic Poem should abound in
Circumstances that are both credible and astonishing; or as the
French
Criticks chuse to phrase it, the Fable should be filled with the
Probable and the Marvellous. This Rule is as fine and just as any in
Aristotle's
whole Art of Poetry.
If the Fable is only Probable, it differs nothing from a true History;
if it is only Marvellous, it is no better than a Romance. The great
Secret therefore of Heroic Poetry is to relate such Circumstances, as
may produce in the Reader at the same time both Belief and Astonishment.
This is brought to pass in a well-chosen Fable, by the Account of such
things as have really happened, or at least of such things as have
happened according to the received Opinions of Mankind. Milton's Fable
is a Masterpiece of this Nature; as the War in Heaven, the Condition of
the fallen Angels, the State of Innocence, and Temptation of the
Serpent, and the Fall of Man, though they are very astonishing in
themselves, are not only credible, but actual Points of Faith.
The next Method of reconciling Miracles with Credibility, is by a happy
Invention of the Poet; as in particular, when he introduces Agents of a
superior Nature, who are capable of effecting what is wonderful, and
what is not to be met with in the ordinary course of things.
Ulysses's
Ship being turned into a Rock, and
Æneas's
Fleet into a Shoal of Water
Nymphs; though they are very surprising Accidents, are nevertheless
probable, when we are told that they were the Gods who thus transformed
them. It is this kind of Machinery which fills the Poems both of
Homer
and
Virgil
with such Circumstances as are wonderful, but not impossible,
and so frequently produce in the Reader the most pleasing Passion that
can rise in the Mind of Man, which is Admiration. If there be any
Instance in the
Æneid
liable to Exception upon this Account, it is in
the Beginning of the Third Book, where
Æneas
is represented as tearing
up the Myrtle that dropped Blood. To qualifie this wonderful
Circumstance,
Polydorus
tells a Story from the Root of the Myrtle, that
the barbarous Inhabitants of the Country having pierced him with Spears
and Arrows, the Wood which was left in his Body took Root in his Wounds,
and gave Birth to that bleeding Tree. This Circumstance seems to have
the Marvellous without the Probable, because it is represented as
proceeding from Natural Causes, without the Interposition of any God, or
other Supernatural Power capable of producing it. The Spears and Arrows
grow of themselves, without so much as the Modern Help of an
Enchantment. If we look into the Fiction of
Milton's
Fable, though we
find it full of surprizing Incidents, they are generally suited to our
Notions of the Things and Persons described, and tempered with a due
Measure of Probability. I must only make an Exception to the
Limbo of
Vanity
, with his Episode of
Sin
and
Death
, and some of the imaginary
Persons in his
Chaos
. These Passages are astonishing, but not credible;
the Reader cannot so far impose upon himself as to see a Possibility in
them; they are the Description of Dreams and Shadows, not of Things or
Persons. I know that many Criticks look upon the Stories of
Circe
,
Polypheme
, the
Sirens
, nay the whole
Odyssey
and
Iliad
, to be
Allegories; but allowing this to be true, they are Fables, which
considering the Opinions of Mankind that prevailed in the Age of the
Poet, might possibly have been according to the Letter. The Persons are
such as might have acted what is ascribed to them, as the Circumstances
in which they are represented, might possibly have been Truths and
Realities. This Appearance of Probability is so absolutely requisite in
the greater kinds of Poetry, that
Aristotle
observes the Ancient Tragick
Writers made use of the Names of such great Men as had actually lived in
the World, tho' the Tragedy proceeded upon Adventures they were never
engaged in, on purpose to make the Subject more Credible. In a Word,
besides the hidden Meaning of an Epic Allegory, the plain litteral Sense
ought to appear Probable. The Story should be such as an ordinary Reader
may acquiesce in, whatever Natural, Moral, or Political Truth may be
discovered in it by Men of greater Penetration.
Satan
, after having long wandered upon the Surface, or outmost Wall of
the Universe, discovers at last a wide Gap in it, which led into the
Creation, and is described as the Opening through which the Angels pass
to and fro into the lower World, upon their Errands to Mankind. His
Sitting upon the Brink of this Passage, and taking a Survey of the whole
Face of Nature that appeared to him new and fresh in all its Beauties,
with the Simile illustrating this Circumstance, fills the Mind of the
Reader with as surprizing and glorious an Idea as any that arises in the
whole Poem. He looks down into that vast Hollow of the Universe with the
Eye, or (as Milton calls it in his first Book) with the Kenn of an
Angel. He surveys all the Wonders in this immense Amphitheatre that lye
between both the Poles of Heaven, and takes in at one View the whole
Round of the Creation.
His Flight between the several Worlds that shined on every side of him,
with the particular Description of the Sun, are set forth in all the
Wantonness of a luxuriant Imagination. His Shape, Speech and Behaviour
upon his transforming himself into an Angel of Light, are touched with
exquisite Beauty. The Poet's Thought of directing Satan to the Sun,
which in the vulgar Opinion of Mankind is the most conspicuous Part of
the Creation, and the placing in it an Angel, is a Circumstance very
finely contrived, and the more adjusted to a Poetical Probability, as it
was a received Doctrine among the most famous Philosophers, that every
Orb had its Intelligence; and as an Apostle in Sacred Writ is said to
have seen such an Angel in the Sun. In the Answer which this Angel
returns to the disguised evil Spirit, there is such a becoming Majesty
as is altogether suitable to a Superior Being. The Part of it in which
he represents himself as present at the Creation, is very noble in it
self, and not only proper where it is introduced, but requisite to
prepare the Reader for what follows in the Seventh Book.
I saw when at his Word the formless Mass,
This World's material Mould, came to a Heap:
Confusion heard his Voice, and wild Uproar
Stood rul'd, stood vast Infinitude confin'd.
Till at his second Bidding Darkness fled,
Light shon, &c.
In the following Part of the Speech he points out the Earth with such
Circumstances, that the Reader can scarce forbear fancying himself
employed on the same distant View of it.
Look downward on the Globe whose hither Side
With Light from hence, tho but reflected, shines;
That place is Earth, the Seat of Man, that Light
His Day, &c.
I must not conclude my Reflections upon this Third Book of
Paradise
Lost
, without taking Notice of that celebrated Complaint of
Milton
with
which it opens, and which certainly deserves all the Praises that have
been given it; tho' as I have before hinted, it may rather be looked
upon as an Excrescence, than as an essential Part of the Poem. The same
Observation might be applied to that beautiful Digression upon
Hypocrisie, in the same Book.
L.
De Arte Poetica
,. II. 38-40.
Poetics
, iii. 4.
'The surprising is necessary in tragedy; but the Epic Poem goes
farther, and admits even the improbable and incredible, from which the
highest degree of the surprising results, because there the action is
not seen.'
Contents
|
Monday, March 3, 1712 |
John Hughes |
Libertas; quæ sera tamen respexit Inertem.
Virg.
Ecl. I.
translation
'Mr.
Spectator,
'If you ever read a Letter which is sent with the more Pleasure for
the Reality of its Complaints, this may have Reason to hope for a
favourable Acceptance; and if Time be the most irretrievable Loss, the
Regrets which follow will be thought, I hope, the most justifiable.
The regaining of my Liberty from a long State of Indolence and
Inactivity, and the Desire of resisting the further Encroachments of
Idleness, make me apply to you; and the Uneasiness with which I I
recollect the past Years, and the Apprehensions with which I expect
the Future, soon determined me to it.
'Idleness is so general a Distemper that I cannot but imagine a
Speculation on this Subject will be of universal Use. There is hardly
any one Person without some Allay of it; and thousands besides my self
spend more Time in an idle Uncertainty which to begin first of two
Affairs, that would have been sufficient to have ended them both. The
Occasion of this seems to be the Want of some necessary Employment, to
put the Spirits in Motion, and awaken them out of their Lethargy. If I
had less Leisure, I should have more; for I should then find my Time
distinguished into Portions, some for Business, and others for the
indulging of Pleasures: But now one Face of Indolence overspreads the
whole, and I have no Land-mark to direct my self by. Were one's Time a
little straitned by Business, like Water inclosed in its Banks, it
would have some determined Course; but unless it be put into some
Channel it has no Current, but becomes a Deluge without either Use or
Motion.
'When Scanderbeg Prince of Epirus was dead, the Turks, who had but too
often felt the Force of his Arm in the Battels he had won from them,
imagined that by wearing a piece of his Bones near their Heart, they
should be animated with a Vigour and Force like to that which inspired
him when living. As I am like to be but of little use whilst I live, I
am resolved to do what Good I can after my Decease; and have
accordingly ordered my Bones to be disposed of in this Manner for the
Good of my Countrymen, who are troubled with too exorbitant a Degree
of Fire. All Fox-hunters upon wearing me, would in a short Time be
brought to endure their Beds in a Morning, and perhaps even quit them
with Regret at Ten: Instead of hurrying away to teaze a poor Animal,
and run away from their own Thoughts, a Chair or a Chariot would be
thought the most desirable Means of performing a Remove from one Place
to another. I should be a Cure for the unnatural Desire of John Trott
for Dancing, and a Specifick to lessen the Inclination Mrs. Fidget has
to Motion, and cause her always to give her Approbation to the present
Place she is in. In fine, no Egyptian Mummy was ever half so useful in
Physick, as I should be to these feaverish Constitutions, to repress
the violent Sallies of Youth, and give each Action its proper Weight
and Repose.
'I can stifle any violent Inclination, and oppose a Torrent of Anger,
or the Sollicitations of Revenge, with Success. But Indolence is a
Stream which flows slowly on, but yet undermines the Foundation of
every Virtue. A Vice of a more lively Nature were a more desirable
Tyrant than this Rust of the Mind, which gives a Tincture of its
Nature to every Action of ones Life. It were as little Hazard to be
lost in a Storm, as to lye thus perpetually becalmed: And it is to no
Purpose to have within one the Seeds of a thousand good Qualities, if
we want the Vigour and Resolution necessary for the exerting them.
Death brings all Persons back to an Equality; and this Image of it,
this Slumber of the Mind, leaves no Difference between the greatest
Genius and the meanest Understanding: A Faculty of doing things
remarkably praise-worthy thus concealed, is of no more use to the
Owner, than a Heap of Gold to the Man who dares not use it.
'To-Morrow is still the fatal Time when all is to be rectified:
To-Morrow comes, it goes, and still I please my self with the Shadow,
whilst I lose the Reality; unmindful that the present Time alone is
ours, the future is yet unborn, and the past is dead, and can only
live (as Parents in their Children) in the Actions it has produced.
'The Time we live ought not to be computed by the Numbers of Years,
but by the Use has been made of it; thus 'tis not the Extent of
Ground, but the yearly Rent which gives the Value to the Estate.
Wretched and thoughtless Creatures, in the only Place where
Covetousness were a Virtue we turn Prodigals! Nothing lies upon our
Hands with such Uneasiness, nor has there been so many Devices for any
one Thing, as to make it slide away imperceptibly and to no purpose. A
Shilling shall be hoarded up with Care, whilst that which is above the
Price of an Estate, is flung away with Disregard and Contempt. There
is nothing now-a-days so much avoided, as a sollicitous Improvement of
every part of Time; 'tis a Report must be shunned as one tenders the
Name of a Wit and a fine Genius, and as one fears the Dreadful
Character of a laborious Plodder: But notwithstanding this, the
greatest Wits any Age has produced thought far otherwise; for who can
think either Socrates or Demosthenes lost any Reputation, by their
continual Pains both in overcoming the Defects and improving the Gifts
of Nature. All are acquainted with the Labour and Assiduity with which
Tully acquired his Eloquence.
'
Seneca in his Letters to Lucelius
1 assures him, there was not a Day
in which he did not either write something, or read and epitomize some
good Author; and I remember Pliny in one of his Letters, where he
gives an Account of the various Methods he used to fill up every
Vacancy of Time, after several Imployments which he enumerates;
sometimes, says he, I hunt; but even then I carry with me a
Pocket-Book, that whilst my Servants are busied in disposing of the
Nets and other Matters I may be employed in something that may be
useful to me in my Studies; and that if I miss of my Game, I may at
the least bring home some of my own Thoughts with me, and not have the
Mortification of having caught nothing all Day
2.
'Thus, Sir, you see how many Examples I recall to Mind, and what
Arguments I use with my self, to regain my Liberty: But as I am afraid
'tis no Ordinary Perswasion that will be of Service, I shall expect
your Thoughts on this Subject, with the greatest Impatience,
especially since the Good will not be confined to me alone, but will
be of Universal Use. For there is no Hopes of Amendment where Men are
pleased with their Ruin, and whilst they think Laziness is a desirable
Character: Whether it be that they like the State it self, or that
they think it gives them a new Lustre when they do exert themselves,
seemingly to be able to do that without Labour and Application, which
others attain to but with the greatest Diligence.
I am,
Sir,
Your most obliged humble Servant,
Samuel Slack.
Clytander to Cleone.
'Madam,
Permission to love you is all I desire, to conquer all the
Difficulties those about you place in my Way, to surmount and acquire
all those Qualifications you expect in him who pretends to the Honour
of being,
'Madam,
Your most humble Servant,
'Clytander.