is
an
had he not given
his
Contents
|
Monday, March 24, 1712 |
Steele |
Voluisti in suo Genere, unumquemque nostrum quasi quendam esse
Roscium, dixistique non tam ea quæ recta essent probari, quam quæ
prava sunt fastidiis adhærescere.
Cicero
de Gestu.
translation
It is very natural to take for our whole Lives a light Impression of a
thing which at first fell into Contempt with us for want of
Consideration. The real Use of a certain Qualification (which the wiser
Part of Mankind look upon as at best an indifferent thing, and generally
a frivolous Circumstance) shews the ill Consequence of such
Prepossessions. What I mean, is the Art, Skill, Accomplishment, or
whatever you will call it, of Dancing. I knew a Gentleman of great
Abilities, who bewail'd the Want of this Part of his Education to the
End of a very honourable Life. He observ'd that there was not occasion
for the common Use of great Talents; that they are but seldom in Demand;
and that these very great Talents were often render'd useless to a Man
for want of small Attainments. A good Mein (a becoming Motion, Gesture
and Aspect) is natural to some Men; but even these would be highly more
graceful in their Carriage, if what they do from the Force of Nature
were confirm'd and heightned from the Force of Reason. To one who has
not at all considered it, to mention the Force of Reason on such a
Subject, will appear fantastical; but when you have a little attended to
it, an Assembly of Men will have quite another View: and they will tell
you, it is evident from plain and infallible Rules, why this Man with
those beautiful Features, and well fashion'd Person, is not so agreeable
as he who sits by him without any of those Advantages. When we read, we
do it without any exerted Act of Memory that presents the Shape of the
Letters; but Habit makes us do it mechanically, without staying, like
Children, to recollect and join those Letters. A Man who has not had the
Regard of his Gesture in any part of his Education, will find himself
unable to act with Freedom before new Company, as a Child that is but
now learning would be to read without Hesitation. It is for the
Advancement of the Pleasure we receive in being agreeable to each other
in ordinary Life, that one would wish Dancing were generally understood
as conducive as it really is to a proper Deportment in Matters that
appear the most remote from it. A Man of Learning and Sense is
distinguished from others as he is such, tho' he never runs upon Points
too difficult for the rest of the World; in like Manner the reaching out
of the Arm, and the most ordinary Motion, discovers whether a Man ever
learnt to know what is the true Harmony and Composure of his Limbs and
Countenance. Whoever has seen
Booth
in the Character of
Pyrrhus
, march
to his Throne to receive
Orestes
, is convinced that majestick and great
Conceptions are expressed in the very Step; but perhaps, tho' no other
Man could perform that Incident as well as he does, he himself would do
it with a yet greater Elevation were he a Dancer.
is so dangerous a
Subject to treat with Gravity, that I shall not at present enter into it
any further; but the Author of the following Letter
has treated it
in the Essay he speaks of in such a Manner, that I am beholden to him
for a Resolution, that I will never hereafter think meanly of any thing,
till I have heard what they who have another Opinion of it have to say
in its Defence.
Mr. Spectator,
'Since there are scarce any of the Arts or Sciences that have not been
recommended to the World by the Pens of some of the Professors,
Masters, or Lovers of them, whereby the Usefulness, Excellence, and
Benefit arising from them, both as to the Speculative and practical
Part, have been made publick, to the great Advantage and Improvement
of such Arts and Sciences; why should Dancing, an Art celebrated by
the Ancients in so extraordinary a Manner, be totally neglected by the
Moderns, and left destitute of any Pen to recommend its various
Excellencies and substantial Merit to Mankind?
'The low Ebb to which Dancing is now fallen, is altogether owing to
this Silence. The Art is esteem'd only as an amusing Trifle; it lies
altogether uncultivated, and is unhappily fallen under the Imputation
of Illiterate and Mechanick: And as Terence in one of his Prologues,
complains of the Rope-dancers drawing all the Spectators from his
Play, so may we well say, that Capering and Tumbling is now preferred
to, and supplies the Place of just and regular Dancing on our
Theatres. It is therefore, in my opinion, high time that some one
should come in to its Assistance, and relieve it from the many gross
and growing Errors that have crept into it, and over-cast its real
Beauties; and to set Dancing in its true light, would shew the
Usefulness and Elegancy of it, with the Pleasure and Instruction
produc'd from it; and also lay down some fundamental Rules, that might
so tend to the Improvement of its Professors, and Information of the
Spectators, that the first might be the better enabled to perform, and
the latter render'd more capable of judging, what is (if there be any
thing) valuable in this Art.
'To encourage therefore some ingenious Pen capable of so generous an
Undertaking, and in some measure to relieve Dancing from the
Disadvantages it at present lies under, I, who teach to dance, have
attempted a small Treatise as an Essay towards an History of Dancing;
in which I have enquired into its Antiquity, Original, and Use, and
shewn what Esteem the Ancients had for it: I have likewise considered
the Nature and Perfection of all its several Parts, and how beneficial
and delightful it is, both as a Qualification and an Exercise; and
endeavoured to answer all Objections that have been maliciously rais'd
against it. I have proceeded to give an Account of the particular
Dances of the Greeks and Romans, whether religious, warlike, or civil;
and taken particular notice of that Part of Dancing relating to the
ancient Stage, and in which the Pantomimes had so great a share: Nor
have I been wanting in giving an historical Account of some particular
Masters excellent in that surprising Art. After which, I have advanced
some Observations on the modern Dancing, both as to the Stage, and
that Part of it so absolutely necessary for the Qualification of
Gentlemen and Ladies; and have concluded with some short Remarks on
the Origin and Progress of the Character by which Dances are writ
down, and communicated to one Master from another. If some great
Genius after this would arise, and advance this Art to that Perfection
it seems capable of receiving, what might not be expected from it? For
if we consider the Origin of Arts and Sciences, we shall find that
some of them took rise from Beginnings so mean and unpromising, that
it is very wonderful to think that ever such surprizing Structures
should have been raised upon such ordinary Foundations. But what
cannot a great Genius effect? Who would have thought that the
clangorous Noise of a Smith's Hammers should have given the first rise
to Musick? Yet Macrobius in his second Book relates, that Pythagoras,
in passing by a Smith's Shop, found that the Sounds proceeding from
the Hammers were either more grave or acute, according to the
different Weights of the Hammers. The Philosopher, to improve this
Hint, suspends different Weights by Strings of the same Bigness, and
found in like manner that the Sounds answered to the Weights. This
being discover'd, he finds out those Numbers which produc'd Sounds
that were Consonants: As, that two Strings of the same Substance and
Tension, the one being double the Length, of the other, give that
Interval which is called Diapason, or an Eighth; the same was also
effected from two Strings of the same Length and Size, the one having
four times the Tension of the other. By these Steps, from so mean a
Beginning, did this great Man reduce, what was only before Noise, to
one of the most delightful Sciences, by marrying it to the
Mathematicks; and by that means caused it to be one of the most
abstract and demonstrative of Sciences. Who knows therefore but
Motion, whether Decorous or Representative, may not (as it seems
highly probable it may) be taken into consideration by some Person
capable of reducing it into a regular Science, tho' not so
demonstrative as that proceeding from Sounds, yet sufficient to
entitle it to a Place among the magnify'd Arts.
'Now, Mr. Spectator, as you have declared your self Visitor of
Dancing-Schools, and this being an Undertaking which more immediately
respects them, I think my self indispensably obliged, before I proceed
to the Publication of this my Essay, to ask your Advice, and hold it
absolutely necessary to have your Approbation; and in order to
recommend my Treatise to the Perusal of the Parents of such as learn
to dance, as well as to the young Ladies, to whom, as Visitor, you
ought to be Guardian.
I am, Sir,
Your most humble Servant.
Salop, March 19, 1711-12.
T.
John Weaver.
Contents
|
Tuesday, March 25, 1712 |
Addison |
Respicere exemplar vitæ morumque jubebo
Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces.
Hor.
translation
Friend Sir
Roger De Coverley
, when we last met together at the Club,
told me, that he had a great mind to see the new Tragedy
with me,
assuring me at the same time, that he had not been at a Play these
twenty Years. The
I saw, said Sir
Roger
, was the
Committee
, which I
should not have gone to neither, had not I been told before-hand that it
was a good Church-of-England Comedy
. He then proceeded to enquire of
me who this
Distrest Mother
was; and upon hearing that she was
Hector's
Widow, he told me that her Husband was a brave Man, and that when he was
a Schoolboy he had read his Life at the end of the Dictionary. My Friend
asked me, in the next place, if there would not be some danger in coming
home late, in case the Mohocks should be Abroad. I assure you, says he,
I thought I had fallen into their Hands last Night; for I observed two
or three lusty black Men that follow'd me half way up Fleet-street, and
mended their pace behind me, in proportion as I put on to get away from
them. You must know, continu'd the Knight with a Smile, I fancied they
had a mind to hunt me; for I remember an honest Gentleman in my
Neighbourhood, who was served such a trick in King Charles the Second's
time; for which reason he has not ventured himself in Town ever since. I
might have shown them very good Sport, had this been their Design; for
as I am an old Fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodg'd, and have
play'd them a thousand tricks they had never seen in their Lives before.
Sir
Roger
added, that if these Gentlemen had any such Intention, they
did not succeed very well in it: for I threw them out, says he, at the
End of Norfolk street, where I doubled the Corner, and got shelter in my
Lodgings before they could imagine what was become of me. However, says
the Knight, if Captain
Sentry
will make one with us to-morrow night, and
if you will both of you call upon me about four a-Clock, that we may be
at the House before it is full, I will have my own Coach in readiness to
attend you, for John tells me he has got the Fore-Wheels mended.
The Captain, who did not fail to meet me there at the appointed Hour,
bid Sir
Roger
fear nothing, for that he had put on the same Sword which
he made use of at the Battel of
Steenkirk
. Sir
Roger's
Servants, and
among the rest my old Friend the Butler, had, I found, provided
themselves with good Oaken Plants, to attend their Master upon this
occasion. When he had placed him in his Coach, with my self at his
Left-Hand, the Captain before him, and his Butler at the Head of his
Footmen in the Rear, we convoy'd him in safety to the Play-house, where,
after having marched up the Entry in good order, the Captain and I went
in with him, and seated him betwixt us in the Pit. As soon as the House
was full, and the Candles lighted, my old Friend stood up and looked
about him with that Pleasure, which a Mind seasoned with Humanity
naturally feels in its self, at the sight of a Multitude of People who
seem pleased with one another, and partake of the same common
Entertainment. I could not but fancy to myself, as the old Man stood up
in the middle of the Pit, that he made a very proper Center to a Tragick
Audience. Upon the entring of
Pyrrhus
, the Knight told me, that he did
not believe the King of
France
himself had a better Strut. I was indeed
very attentive to my old Friend's Remarks, because I looked upon them as
a Piece of natural Criticism, and was well pleased to hear him at the
Conclusion of almost every Scene, telling me that he could not imagine
how the Play would end. One while he appeared much concerned for
Andromache
; and a little while after as much for
Hermione
: and was
extremely puzzled to think what would become of
Pyrrhus
.
When Sir
Roger
saw
Andromache's
obstinate Refusal to her Lover's
Importunities, he whisper'd me in the Ear, that he was sure she would
never have him; to which he added, with a more than ordinary Vehemence,
you can't imagine, Sir, what 'tis to have to do with a
Widow
. Upon
Pyrrhus
his threatning afterwards to leave her, the Knight shook his
Head, and muttered to himself, Ay, do if you can. This Part dwelt so
much upon my Friend's Imagination, that at the close of the Third Act,
as I was thinking of something else, he whispered in my Ear, These
Widows, Sir, are the most perverse Creatures in the World. But pray,
says he, you that are a Critick, is this Play according to your
Dramatick Rules, as you call them? Should your People in Tragedy always
talk to be understood? Why, there is not a single Sentence in this Play
that I do not know the Meaning of.
The Fourth Act very luckily begun before I had time to give the old
Gentleman an Answer: Well, says the Knight, sitting down with great
Satisfaction, I suppose we are now to see
Hector's
Ghost. He then
renewed his Attention, and, from time to time, fell a praising the
Widow. He made, indeed, a little Mistake as to one of her Pages, whom at
his first entering, he took for
Astyanax
; but he quickly set himself
right in that Particular, though, at the same time, he owned he should
have been very glad to have seen the little Boy, who, says he, must
needs be a very fine Child by the Account that is given of him. Upon
Hermione's
going off with a Menace to
Pyrrhus
, the Audience gave a loud
Clap; to which Sir
Roger
added, On my Word, a notable young Baggage!
As there was a very remarkable Silence and Stillness in the Audience
during the whole Action, it was natural for them to take the Opportunity
of these Intervals between the Acts, to express their Opinion of the
Players, and of their respective Parts. Sir
Roger
hearing a Cluster of
them praise
Orestes
, struck in with them, and told them, that he thought
his Friend
Pylades
was a very sensible Man; as they were afterwards
applauding
Pyrrhus
, Sir
Roger
put in a second time; And let me tell you,
says he, though he speaks but little, I like the old Fellow in Whiskers
as well as any of them. Captain
Sentry
seeing two or three Waggs who sat
near us, lean with an attentive Ear towards Sir
Roger
, and fearing lest
they should Smoke the Knight, pluck'd him by the Elbow, and whisper'd
something in his Ear. that lasted till the Opening of the Fifth Act. The
Knight was wonderfully attentive to the Account which
Orestes
gives of
Pyrrhus
his Death, and at the Conclusion of it, told me it was such a
bloody Piece of Work, that he was glad it was not done upon the Stage.
Seeing afterwards
Orestes
in his raving Fit, he grew more than ordinary
serious, and took occasion to moralize (in his way) upon an Evil
Conscience, adding, that
Orestes
, in his Madness, looked as if he saw
something.
As we were the first that came into the House, so we were the last that
went out of it; being resolved to have a clear Passage for our old
Friend, whom we did not care to venture among the justling of the Crowd.
Sir
Roger
went out fully satisfied with his Entertainment, and we
guarded him to his Lodgings in the same manner that we brought him to
the Playhouse; being highly pleased, for my own part, not only with the
Performance of the excellent Piece which had been presented, but with
the Satisfaction which it had given to the good old Man.
L.
This is a fourth puff (see Nos.
,
,
) of Addison's
friend Ambrose Philips. The art of '
packing a house
' to secure applause
was also practised on the first night of the acting of this version of
Andromaque
.
The
Committee
, or the
Faithful Irishman,
was written by Sir
Robert Howard soon after the Restoration, with for its heroes two
Cavalier colonels, whose estates are sequestered, and their man Teg
(Teague), an honest blundering Irishman. The Cavaliers defy the
Roundhead Committee, and 'the day may come' says one of them, 'when
those that suffer for their consciences and honour may be rewarded.'
Nobody who heard this from the stage in the days of Charles II. could
feel that the day had come. Its comic Irishman kept the
Committee
on the
stage, and in Queen Anne's time the thorough Tory still relished the
stage caricature of the maintainers of the Commonwealth in Mr. Day with
his greed, hypocrisy, and private incontinence; his wife, who had been
cookmaid to a gentleman, but takes all the State matters on herself; and
their empty son Abel, who knows Parliament-men and Sequestrators, and
whose 'profound contemplations are caused by the constervation of his
spirits for the nation's good.'
Contents
|
Wednesday, March 26, 1712 |
Steele |
—Clament periisse pudorem
Cuncti penè patres, ea cum reprehendere coner,
Quæ gravis Æsopus, quæ doctus Roscius egit:
Vel quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit sibi, ducunt;
Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus, et, quæ
Imberbes didicere, senes perdenda fateri.
Hor.
translation
Mr.
Spectator,
'As you are the daily Endeavourer to promote Learning and good Sense,
I think myself obliged to suggest to your Consideration whatever may
promote or prejudice them.. There is an Evil which has prevailed from
Generation to Generation, which grey Hairs and tyrannical Custom
continue to support; I hope your Spectatorial Authority will give a
seasonable Check to the Spread of the Infection; I mean old Men's
overbearing the strongest Sense of their Juniors by the mere Force of
Seniority; so that for a young Man in the Bloom of Life and Vigour of
Age to give a reasonable Contradiction to his Elders, is esteemed an
unpardonable Insolence, and regarded as a reversing the Decrees of
Nature. I am a young Man, I confess, yet I honour the grey Head as
much as any one; however, when in Company with old Men, I hear them
speak obscurely, or reason preposterously (into which Absurdities,
Prejudice, Pride, or Interest, will sometimes throw the wisest) I
count it no Crime to rectifie their Reasoning, unless Conscience must
truckle to Ceremony, and Truth fall a Sacrifice to Complaisance. The
strongest Arguments are enervated, and the brightest Evidence
disappears, before those tremendous Reasonings and dazling Discoveries
of venerable old Age: You are young giddy-headed Fellows, you have not
yet had Experience of the World. Thus we young Folks find our Ambition
cramp'd, and our Laziness indulged, since, while young, we have little
room to display our selves; and, when old, the Weakness of Nature must
pass for Strength of Sense, and we hope that hoary Heads will raise us
above the Attacks of Contradiction. Now, Sir, as you would enliven our
Activity in the pursuit of Learning, take our Case into Consideration;
and, with a Gloss on brave
Elihu's Sentiments, assert the Rights of
Youth, and prevent the pernicious Incroachments of Age. The generous
Reasonings of that gallant Youth would adorn your Paper; and I beg you
would insert them, not doubting but that they will give good
Entertainment to the most intelligent of your Readers.
'So these three Men ceased to answer
Job, because he was righteous in
his own Eyes. Then was kindled the Wrath of
Elihu the Son of
Barachel
the
Buzite, of the Kindred of
Ram: Against
Job was his Wrath kindled,
because he justified himself rather than God. Also against his three
Friends was his Wrath kindled, because they had found no Answer, and
yet had condemned
Job. Now
Elihu had waited till
Job had spoken,
because they were elder than he. When
Elihu saw there was no Answer in
the Mouth of these three Men, then his Wrath was kindled. And
Elihu
the Son of
Barachel the
Buzite answered and said, I am young, and ye
are very old, wherefore I was afraid, and durst not shew you mine
Opinion. I said, Days should speak, and Multitude of Years should
teach Wisdom. But there is a Spirit in Man; and the Inspiration of the
Almighty giveth them Understanding. Great Men are not always wise:
Neither do the Aged understand Judgment. Therefore I said, hearken to
me, I also will shew mine Opinion. Behold, I waited for your Words; I
gave ear to your Reasons, whilst you searched out what to say. Yea, I
attended unto you: And behold there was none of you that convinced
Job, or that answered his Words; lest ye should say, we have found out
Wisdom: God thrusteth him down, not Man. Now he hath not directed his
Words against me: Neither will I answer him with your Speeches. They
were amazed, they answered no more: They left off speaking. When I had
waited (for they spake not, but stood still and answered no more) I
said, I will answer also my Part, I also will shew mine Opinion. For I
am full of Matter, the Spirit within me constraineth me. Behold my
Belly is as Wine which hath no vent, it is ready to burst like new
Bottles. I will speak that I may be refreshed: I will open my Lips,
and answer. Let me not, I pray you, accept any Man's Person, neither
let me give flattering Titles unto Man.
For I know not to give
flattering Titles; in so doing my Maker would soon take me away
1.
Mr.
Spectator,
'I have formerly read with great Satisfaction your Papers about Idols,
and the Behaviour of Gentlemen in those Coffee-houses where Women
officiate, and impatiently waited to see you take India and China
Shops into Consideration: But since you have pass'd us over in
silence, either that you have not as yet thought us worth your Notice,
or that the Grievances we lie under have escaped your discerning Eye,
I must make my Complaints to you, and am encouraged to do it because
you seem a little at leisure at this present Writing. I am, dear Sir,
one of the top China-Women about Town; and though I say it, keep as
good Things, and receive as fine Company as any o' this End of the
Town, let the other be who she will: In short, I am in a fair Way to
be easy, were it not for a Club of Female Rakes, who under pretence of
taking their innocent Rambles, forsooth, and diverting the Spleen,
seldom fail to plague me twice or thrice a-day to cheapen Tea, or buy
a Skreen; What else should they mean? as they often repeat it. These
Rakes are your idle Ladies of Fashion, who having nothing to do,
employ themselves in tumbling over my Ware. One of these No-Customers
(for by the way they seldom or never buy any thing) calls for a Set of
Tea-Dishes, another for a Bason, a third for my best Green-Tea, and
even to the Punch Bowl, there's scarce a piece in my Shop but must be
displaced, and the whole agreeable Architecture disordered; so that I
can compare 'em to nothing but to the Night-Goblins that take a
Pleasure to over-turn the Disposition of Plates and Dishes in the
Kitchens of your housewifely Maids. Well, after all this Racket and
Clutter, this is too dear, that is their Aversion; another thing is
charming, but not wanted: The Ladies are cured of the Spleen, but I am
not a Shilling the better for it. Lord! what signifies one poor Pot of
Tea, considering the Trouble they put me to? Vapours, Mr.
Spectator,
are terrible Things; for though I am not possess'd by them my self, I
suffer more from 'em than if I were. Now I must beg you to admonish
all such Day-Goblins to make fewer Visits, or to be less troublesome
when they come to one's Shop; and to convince 'em, that we honest
Shop-keepers have something better to do, than to cure Folks of the
Vapours
gratis. A young Son of mine, a School-Boy, is my Secretary, so
I hope you'll make Allowances. I am,
Sir,
Your constant Reader, and
very humble Servant,
Rebecca the Distress'd.
March the 22nd.
T.
Job
, ch. xii.
Contents
|
Thursday, March 27, 1712 |
Budgell |
Fingit equum tenerâ docilem cervice Magister,
Ire viam quam monstrat eques—
Hor.
translation
I have lately received a third Letter from the Gentleman, who has
already given the Publick two Essays upon Education. As his Thoughts
seem to be very just and new upon this Subject, I shall communicate them
to the Reader.
Sir,
If I had not been hindered by some extraordinary Business, I should
have sent you sooner my further Thoughts upon Education. You may
please to remember, that in my last Letter I endeavoured to give the
best Reasons that could be urged in favour of a private or publick
Education. Upon the whole it may perhaps be thought that I seemed
rather enclined to the latter, though at the same time I confessed
that Virtue, which ought to be our first and principal Care, was more
usually acquired in the former.
I intend therefore, in this Letter, to offer at Methods, by which I
conceive Boys might be made to improve in Virtue, as they advance in
Letters.
I know that in most of our public Schools Vice is punished and
discouraged whenever it is found out; but this is far from being
sufficient, unless our Youth are at the same time taught to form a
right Judgment of Things, and to know what is properly Virtue.
To this end, whenever they read the Lives and Actions of such Men as
have been famous in their Generation, it should not be thought enough
to make them barely understand so many Greek or Latin Sentences, but
they should be asked their Opinion of such an Action or Saying, and
obliged to give their Reasons why they take it to be good or bad. By
this means they would insensibly arrive at proper Notions of Courage,
Temperance, Honour and Justice.
There must be great Care taken how the Example of any particular
Person is recommended to them in gross; instead of which, they ought
to be taught wherein such a Man, though great in some respects, was
weak and faulty in others. For want of this Caution, a Boy is often so
dazzled with the Lustre of a great Character, that he confounds its
Beauties with its Blemishes, and looks even upon the faulty Parts of
it with an Eye of Admiration.
I have often wondered how Alexander, who was naturally of a generous
and merciful Disposition, came to be guilty of so barbarous an Action
as that of dragging the Governour of a Town after his Chariot. I know
this is generally ascribed to his Passion for Homer; but I lately met
with a Passage in Plutarch, which, if I am not very much mistaken,
still gives us a clearer Light into the Motives of this Action.
Plutarch tells us, that Alexander in his Youth had a Master named
Lysimachus, who, tho' he was a Man destitute of all Politeness,
ingratiated himself both with Philip and his Pupil, and became the
second Man at Court, by calling the King Peleus, the Prince Achilles,
and himself Phœnix. It is no wonder if Alexander having been thus used
not only to admire, but to personate Achilles, should think it
glorious to imitate him in this piece of Cruelty and Extravagance.
To carry this Thought yet further, I shall submit it to your
Consideration, whether instead of a Theme or Copy of Verses, which are
the usual Exercises, as they are called in the School-phrase, it
would not be more proper that a Boy should be tasked once or twice a
Week to write down his Opinion of such Persons and Things as occur to
him in his Reading; that he should descant upon the Actions of Turnus
and Æneas, shew wherein they excelled or were defective, censure or
approve any particular Action, observe how it might have been carried
to a greater Degree of Perfection, and how it exceeded or fell short
of another. He might at the same time mark what was moral in any
Speech, and how far it agreed with the Character of the Person
speaking. This Exercise would soon strengthen his Judgment in what is
blameable or praiseworthy, and give him an early Seasoning of
Morality.
Next to those Examples which may be met with in Books, I very much
approve Horace's Way of setting before Youth the infamous or
honourable Characters of their Contemporaries: That Poet tells us,
this was the Method his Father made use of to incline him to any
particular Virtue, or give him an Aversion to any particular Vice. If,
says Horace, my Father advised me to live within Bounds, and be
contented with the Fortune he should leave me; Do not you see (says
he) the miserable Condition of Burrus, and the Son of Albus? Let the
Misfortunes of those two Wretches teach you to avoid Luxury and
Extravagance. If he would inspire me with an Abhorrence to Debauchery,
do not (says he) make your self like Sectanus, when you may be happy
in the Enjoyment of lawful Pleasures. How scandalous (says he) is the
Character of Trebonius, who was lately caught in Bed with another
Man's Wife? To illustrate the Force of this Method, the Poet adds,
That as a headstrong Patient, who will not at first follow his
Physician's Prescriptions, grows orderly when he hears that his
Neighbours die all about him; so Youth is often frighted from Vice, by
hearing the ill Report it brings upon others.
'Xenophon's Schools of Equity, in his Life of Cyrus the Great, are
sufficiently famous: He tells us, that the Persian Children went to
School, and employed their Time as diligently in learning the
Principles of Justice and Sobriety, as the Youth in other Countries
did to acquire the most difficult Arts and Sciences: their Governors
spent most part of the Day in hearing their mutual Accusations one
against the other, whether for Violence, Cheating, Slander, or
Ingratitude; and taught them how to give Judgment against those who
were found to be any ways guilty of these Crimes. I omit the Story of
the long and short Coat, for which Cyrus himself was punished, as a
Case equally known with any in Littleton.
'The Method, which Apuleius tells us the Indian Gymnosophists took to
educate their Disciples, is still more curious and remarkable. His
Words are as follow: When their Dinner is ready, before it is served
up, the Masters enquire of every particular Scholar how he has
employed his Time since Sun-rising; some of them answer, that having
been chosen as Arbiters between two Persons they have composed their
Differences, and made them Friends; some, that they have been
executing the Orders of their Parents; and others, that they have
either found out something new by their own Application, or learnt it
from the Instruction of their Fellows: But if there happens to be any
one among them, who cannot make it appear that he has employed the
Morning to advantage, he is immediately excluded from the Company, and
obliged to work, while the rest are at Dinner.
'It is not impossible, that from these several Ways of producing
Virtue in the Minds of Boys, some general Method might be invented.
What I would endeavour to inculcate, is, that our Youth cannot be too
soon taught the Principles of Virtue, seeing the first Impressions
which are made on the Mind are always the strongest.
'The Archbishop of Cambray makes Telemachus say, that though he was
young in Years, he was old in the Art of knowing how to keep both his
own and his Friend's Secrets. When my Father, says the Prince, went to
the Siege of Troy, he took me on his Knees, and after having embraced
and blessed me, as he was surrounded by the Nobles of Ithaca, O my
Friends, says he, into your Hands I commit the Education of my Son; if
ever you lovd his Father, shew it in your Care towards him; but above
all, do not omit to form him just, sincere, and faithful in keeping a
Secret. These Words of my Father, says Telemachus, were continually
repeated to me by his Friends in his Absence; who made no scruple of
communicating to me in their Uneasiness to see my Mother surrounded
with Lovers, and the Measures they designed to take on that Occasion.
He adds, that he was so ravished at being thus treated like a Man, and
at the Confidence reposed in him, that he never once abused it; nor
could all the Insinuations of his Fathers Rivals ever get him to
betray what was committed to him under the Seal of Secrecy.
There is hardly any Virtue which a Lad might not thus learn by
Practice and Example.
I have heard of a good Man, who used at certain times to give his
Scholars Six Pence apiece, that they might tell him the next day how
they had employd it. The third part was always to be laid out in
Charity, and every Boy was blamed or commended as he could make it
appear that he had chosen a fit Object.
In short, nothing is more wanting to our publick Schools, than that
the Masters of them should use the same care in fashioning the Manners
of their Scholars, as in forming their Tongues to the learned
Languages. Where-ever the former is omitted, I cannot help agreeing
with Mr. Locke, That a Man must have a very strange Value for Words,
when preferring the Languages of the Greeks and Romans to that which
made them such brave Men, he can think it worth while to hazard the
Innocence and Virtue of his Son for a little Greek and Latin.
As the Subject of this Essay is of the highest Importance, and what I
do not remember to have yet seen treated by any Author, I have sent
you what occurrd to me on it from my own Observation or Reading, and
which you may either suppress or publish as you think fit.
I am, Sir, Yours, &c.