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Danubt I cannot think of, without reflecting on that unhappy Prince who had such fair territories Qn the banks of it ; I mean the Duke of Bavaria, who by our last Letters is retired from Mons. Mans is as strong a fortification as any which has no citadel: And places which are not completely fortified, are, methinks, lessons to Princes, that they are not omnipotent, but liable to the strokes of fortune. But as all Princes are subject to such calamities, it is the part of men of letters to guard them from the observations of all small Writers: For which reason, I shall conclude my present remarks by publishing the following advertisement, to be taken notice of 'by all who dwell in the suburbs of learning.
"Whereas the King of Sweden has-been so urrfortu"nate as to receive a wound in his heel; we do hereby "prohibit all epigrammatists in either language and «• both Universities, as well a« all other Poets, of what "denomination soever, to make any mention of Achilles "having received his death's wound in the fame part.
"We do likewise forbid all comparisons in CofFea"houses between Alexander the Great and the said King "of Sweden, and from making any parallels between. "the death of Patkul and Philotas; we being very ap"prehensive of the reflections that several politicians *' have ready by them to produce on this occasion, and "being willing, as much as in us lies, to free the town *' from all impertinencies of this nature."
N° 68. Thursday, September 15, 1709.
From my own Apartment, September 14.
TH E progress of our endeavours will of necessity be very much interrupted, except the learned world will please to send their lists to the chamber of Fame with all expedition. There is nothing can so much contribute to create a noble emulation in our F z youths youth, as the honourable mention of such whose actions have outlived the injuries of time, and recommended themselves so far to the world, that it is become Learning to know the least circumstance of their affairs. It is a great incentive to fee, that some men have raised themselves so highly above their fellow-creatures, that the lives of ordinary men are spent in enquiries after the particular actions of the most illustrious. True it is, that without this impulse to Fame and reputation, our industry would stagnate, and that lively desire of pleating each other die away. This opinion was so established in the heathen world, that their fense of living appeared insipid, except their Being was enlivened with a consciousness that they were esteemed by the rest of the world.
Upon examining the proportion of men's Fame for my Table of Twelve, I thought it no ill way, (since I had laid it down for a rule, that they were to be ranked limply as they were famous, without regard to their virtue) to aft my sister Jenny's advice; and particularly mentioned to her the name of Aristotle. She immediately told me, he was a very great Scholar, and that flie had read him at the boarding-school. She certainly means a trifle sold by the hawkers called Aristotle's Problems. But this raised a great scruple in me, whether a Fame increased by imposition of others is to be added to his account, or that these excrescencies, which grow out of his real reputation, and give encouragement to others to pass things under the covert of his name, should ,be considered in giving him his seat in the chamber f This punctilio is referred to the Learned. In the mean time, so ill-natured are mankind, that I believe I have names already sent me sufficient to fill up my lifts for the dark room, and every one is apt enough to send in their accounts of ill deservers. This malevolence does not proceed from a real dislike of virtue, but a diabolical prejudice against it, which makes men willing to destroy what they care not to imitate. Thus you see the greatest characters among your acquaintance, and those you live with, are traduced by all below them in virtue, who never mention them but with an exception. However, I believe I soall not give the world much trouble about filling roy Tables for those of evil Fame; fer J have
some some thoughts of clapping up the Sharpers there as fast as I can lay hold of them.
At present, I am employed in looking over the seve-ral notices which I have received of their manner of dexterity, and the way at dice of making all Rugg, as the cant is. The whole art of securing a die has lately been sent me, by a person who was of the fraternity, but is disabled by the loss- of a finger; by which means be cannot practise that trick as he used to do. But I am very much at a loss how to call some of the fair Sex, who are accomplices with the Knights of Industry; for my metaphorical Dogs are easily enough understood; but the feminine gender of Dogs has so harm a sound, that we know not how to name it. But I am credibly informed, that there are female Dogs as voracious as the males, and make advances to young fellows, without any other design but coming, to a familiarity with their parses. I have also long lists of persons of condition, who are certainly of the fame regimen with these Banditti, and instrumental to their cheats upon undiscerning men of their own rank. These add their good reputation to carry on the impostures of others, whose very names would else be defence enough against falling into their hands. But for the honour of our nation, these mail be unmentioned; provided we hear no more of such practices, and that they shall not from henceforward suffer the society of such, as they know to be; the common enemies of order, discipline, and virtue. If it appear that they go on in encouraging them, they must be proceeded against according to the several rulesof history, where all is to be laid before the world with impartiality, and without respect to persons.
"So let the stricken deer go weep.'*
Will's Coffee-honse, September 14,
"TTAVING lately read your discourse about the "X 1 family of Trubies, wherein yon observe, that ** there are some who fall into laughter out of a certain "benevolence in their temper, and not out of the or"dinary motive, viz. contempt, and triumph over the "imperfections of others; I have conceived a good "idea of your knowledge of mankind. And, as you *' have a tragi-comic genius, I beg the favour of yoa "to give us your thoughts of a quite different effect, "which also is caused by other motives than what are ** commonly taken notice of. What I would have you "treat ef, is the cause of shedding tears. I desire you "would discuss it a little, with observations upon the "various occasions which provoke us to that expression ** of our concern, &c."
To obey this complaisant Gentleman, I know no way so short as examining the various touches of my own bosom, on several occurrences in a long life to the evening of which I am arrived, after as many various incidents as any body has met with. I have often reflected, that there is a great similitude in the motions of the heart in mirth and in sorrow ; and I think the usual occasion of the latter, as well as the former, is something ■which is sudden and unexpected. The mind has not a sufficient time to recollect its force, and immediately gushes into tears before we can utter ourselves by speech or complaint. The most notorious causes of these drops from our eyes are pity, sorrow, joy, and reconciliation.
The Fair Sex, who are made of man and not of earth, have a more delicate humanity than we have; and pity is the most common cause of their tears: For as we are inwardly composed of an aptitude to every circumstance of life, and every thing that befalls any one person might have happened to any other oshuman race; self
love, and a sense of the pain we ourselves should suffer in the circumstances of any whom we pity, is the cause of that compassion. Such a reflection in the breast of a woman, immediately inclines her to tears; but in a man,, it makes him think how such a one ought to act on that occasion, suitably to the dignity of his nature. Thus a woman is ever moved for those whom Ihe hears lament,, and a man for those whom he observes to suffer in silence. ft is <a man's own behaviour in the circumstances he is under, which procures him the esteem of others, and not merely the affliction itself which demands our pity j for we never give a man that passion which he falls into for himself. He that commends himself never purchases our applause; nor he who bewails himself, our pity.
Going through an alley the other day, I observed a noisy impudent beggar bawl out, that he was wounded in a merchant-man ; that he had lost his poor limbs, and shewed a leg clouted up. All that passed by made what haste they could out of his sight and hearing ; but a poor fellow at the end of the passage, with a rusty coat, a melancholy air, and soft voice, desired them to look, upon a man not used to beg. The latter received the charity of almost every one that went by. The strings of the heart, which are to be touched to give us compassion, are not so played on but by the finest hand. We fee in tragical representations, it is not the pomp of language, nor the magnificence of dress, in'which the passion is wrought, that touches sensible Spirits; but something of a plain and simple nature which breaks in upon our Souls, by that sympathy which is given us for our mutual good-will and service.
In the tragedy of Macbeth, where Wilks acts the part of a man whose family has been murdered in his absence,, the wildness of his passion, which is run over in a torrent of calamitous circumstances, does but raise my spirits, and give the alarm: But when he skilfully seems to be out of breath, and is brought too low to fay more ;and upon a second reflection cries only, wiping his eyes, "What, both children ! Both, both my children gone!" •—There is no resisting a sorrow which seems to have cast about for all the reasons possible for its consolation, but has no resource "There is not one left; but both, E 4. "both