[Footnote 1: The Belvidere Torso.]
[Footnote 2: The other translation by Ambrose Philips. See note to No.
223.]
[Footnote 3: Wanting in copies then known, it is here supplied by
conjecture.]
[Footnote 4: In Plutarch's Life of Demetrius.
When others entered Antiochus was entirely unaffected. But when
Stratonice came in, as she often did, he shewed all the symptoms
described by Sappho, the faltering voice, the burning blush, the
languid eye, the sudden sweat, the tumultuous pulse; and at length,
the passion overcoming his spirits, a swoon and mortal paleness.]
* * * * *
No. 230. Friday, Nov. 23, 1711. Steele.
Homines ad Deos nullâ re propiùs accedunt, quam salutem Hominibus
dando.
Tull.
Human Nature appears a very deformed, or a very beautiful Object,
according to the different Lights in which it is viewed. When we see Men
of inflamed Passions, or of wicked Designs, tearing one another to
pieces by open Violence, or undermining each other by secret Treachery;
when we observe base and narrow Ends pursued by ignominious and
dishonest Means; when we behold Men mixed in Society as if it were for
the Destruction of it; we are even ashamed of our Species, and out of
Humour with our own Being: But in another Light, when we behold them
mild, good, and benevolent, full of a generous Regard for the publick
Prosperity, compassionating [each [1]] others Distresses, and relieving
each others Wants, we can hardly believe they are Creatures of the same
Kind. In this View they appear Gods to each other, in the Exercise of
the noblest Power, that of doing Good; and the greatest Compliment we
have ever been able to make to our own Being, has been by calling this
Disposition of Mind Humanity. We cannot but observe a Pleasure arising
in our own Breast upon the seeing or hearing of a generous Action, even
when we are wholly disinterested in it. I cannot give a more proper
Instance of this, than by a Letter from _Pliny_, in which he recommends
a Friend in the most handsome manner, and, methinks, it would be a great
Pleasure to know the Success of this Epistle, though each Party
concerned in it has been so many hundred Years in his Grave.
_To MAXIMUS._
What I should gladly do for any Friend of yours, I think I may now
with Confidence request for a Friend of mine. _Arrianus Maturius_ is
the most considerable Man of his Country; when I call him so, I do not
speak with Relation to his Fortune, though that is very plentiful, but
to his Integrity, Justice, Gravity, and Prudence; his Advice is useful
to me in Business, and his Judgment in Matters of Learning: His
Fidelity, Truth, and good Understanding, are very great; besides this,
he loves me as you do, than which I cannot say any thing that
signifies a warmer Affection. He has nothing that's aspiring; and
though he might rise to the highest Order of Nobility, he keeps
himself in an inferior Rank; yet I think my self bound to use my
Endeavours to serve and promote him; and would therefore find the
Means of adding something to his Honours while he neither expects nor
knows it, nay, though he should refuse it. Something, in short, I
would have for him that may be honourable, but not troublesome; and I
entreat that you will procure him the first thing of this kind that
offers, by which you will not only oblige me, but him also; for though
he does not covet it, I know he will be as grateful in acknowledging
your Favour as if he had asked it. [2]
_Mr._ SPECTATOR,
The Reflections in some of your Papers on the servile manner of
Education now in Use, have given Birth to an Ambition, which, unless
you discountenance it, will, I doubt, engage me in a very difficult,
tho not ungrateful Adventure. I am about to undertake, for the sake of
the _British_ Youth, to instruct them in such a manner, that the most
dangerous Page in _Virgil_ or _Homer_ may be read by them with much
Pleasure, and with perfect Safety to their Persons.
Could I prevail so far as to be honoured with the Protection of some
few of them, (for I am not Hero enough to rescue many) my Design is to
retire with them to an agreeable Solitude; though within the
Neighbourhood of a City, for the Convenience of their being instructed
in Musick, Dancing, Drawing, Designing, or any other such
Accomplishments, which it is conceived may make as proper Diversions
for them, and almost as pleasant, as the little sordid Games which
dirty School-boys are so much delighted with. It may easily be
imagined, how such a pretty Society, conversing with none beneath
themselves, and sometimes admitted as perhaps not unentertaining
Parties amongst better Company, commended and caressed for their
little Performances, and turned by such Conversations to a certain
Gallantry of Soul, might be brought early acquainted with some of the
most polite _English_ Writers. This having given them some tolerable
Taste of Books, they would make themselves Masters of the _Latin_
Tongue by Methods far easier than those in _Lilly_, with as little
Difficulty or Reluctance as young Ladies learn to speak _French_, or
to sing _Italian_ Operas. When they had advanced thus far, it would be
time to form their Taste something more exactly: One that had any true
Relish of fine Writing, might, with great Pleasure both to himself and
them, run over together with them the best _Roman_ Historians, Poets,
and Orators, and point out their more remarkable Beauties; give them a
short Scheme of Chronology, a little View of Geography, Medals,
Astronomy, or what else might best feed the busy inquisitive Humour so
natural to that Age. Such of them as had the least Spark of Genius,
when it was once awakened by the shining Thoughts and great Sentiments
of those admired Writers, could not, I believe, be easily withheld
from attempting that more difficult Sister Language, whose exalted
Beauties they would have heard so often celebrated as the Pride and
Wonder of the whole Learned World. In the mean while, it would be
requisite to exercise their Style in Writing any light Pieces that ask
more of Fancy than of Judgment: and that frequently in their Native
Language, which every one methinks should be most concerned to
cultivate, especially Letters, in which a Gentleman must have so
frequent Occasions to distinguish himself. A Set of genteel
good-natured Youths fallen into such a Manner of Life, would form
almost a little Academy, and doubtless prove no such contemptible
Companions, as might not often tempt a wiser Man to mingle himself in
their Diversions, and draw them into such serious Sports as might
prove nothing less instructing than the gravest Lessons. I doubt not
but it might be made some of their Favourite Plays, to contend which
of them should recite a beautiful Part of a Poem or Oration most
gracefully, or sometimes to join in acting a Scene of _Terence,
Sophocles,_ or our own _Shakespear_. The Cause of _Milo_ might again
be pleaded before more favourable Judges, _Caesar_ a second time be
taught to tremble, and another Race of _Athenians_ be afresh enraged
at the Ambition of another _Philip_. Amidst these noble Amusements, we
could hope to see the early Dawnings of their Imagination daily
brighten into Sense, their Innocence improve into Virtue, and their
unexperienced Good-nature directed to a generous Love of their
Country.
_I am_, &c.