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kindled within him, and prompted him to distinguish himself in some enterprise of a lower nature. Since, therefore, no man's lot is so unalterably fixed in this life, but that a thousand accidents may either forward or disappoint his advancement, it is, methinks, a pleasant and inoffensive speculation, to consider a great man as divested of all the adventitious circumstances of fortune, and to bring him down in one's imagination to that low station of life, the nature of which bears some distant resemblance to that high one he is at present possessed of. Thus one may view him exercising in miniature those talents of nature which, being drawn out by education to their full length, enable him for the discharge of some important employment. On the other hand, one may raise uneducated merit to such a pitch of greatness, as may seem equal to the possible extent of his improved capacity.

Thus nature furnishes a man with a general appetite of glory; education determines it to this or that particular object. The desire of distinction is not, I think, in any instance more observable than in the variety of outsides and new appearances which the modish part of this world are obliged to provide, in order to make themselves remarkable, for any thing glaring or particular, either in behaviour or apparel, is known to have this good effect, that it catches the eye, and will not suffer you to pass over the person so adorned without due notice and observation. It has likewise, upon this account, been frequently resented as a very great slight, to leave any gentleman out of a lampoon or satire, who has as much right to be there as his neighbour, because it supposes the person not eminent enough to be taken notice of. To this passionate fondness for distinction, are owing various frolicsome and irregular practices, as sallying out into nocturnal exploits, breaking of windows, singing of catches, beating the watch, getting drunk twice a day, killing a great number of horses, with many other enterprises of the like fiery nature; for certainly many a man is more rakish and extravagant than he would willingly be, were there not others to look on and give their approbation.

One very common, and at the same time the most absurd ambition that ever showed itself in human nature, is that which comes upon a man with experience and old age, the season when it might be expected he should be wisest; and therefore it can not receive any of those lessening circumstances which do, in some measure, excuse the disorderly ferments of youthful blood: I mean the passion for getting money, exclusive of the character of the provident father, the affectionate husband, or the generous friend. It may be remarked, for the comfort of honest poverty, that this desire reigns most in those who have but few good qualities to recommend them. This is a weed that will grow in a barren soil. Humanity, goodnature, and the advantages of a liberal education, are incompatible with avarice. It is strange to see how suddenly this abject passion kills all the noble sentiments and generous ambitions that adorn human nature; it renders the man who is overrun with it a peevish and cruel master, a severe parent, and unsociable husband, a distant and mistrustful friend. But it is more to the present purpose to consider it as an absurd passion of the heart, rather than as a vicious affection of the mind. As there are frequent instances to be met with of a proud humility, so this passion, contrary to most others, affects applause, by avoiding all show and appearance; for this reason, it will not sometimes endure even the common decencies of apparel. A covetous man will call himself poor that you may soothe his vanity by contradicting him.' Love, and the desire of glory, as they are the most natural, so they are capable of being refined into the most delicate and rational passions. It is true, the wise man who strikes out of the sacret paths of a private life, for honour and dignity, allured by the splendour of a court, and the unfelt weight of public employment, whether he succeeds in his attempts or not, usually comes near enough to this painted greatness to discern the daubing; he is then desirous of extricating himself out of the hurry of life, that he may pass away the remainder of his days in tranquillity and retirement.

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It may be thought, then, but common prudence in a man not to change a better state for a worse, nor ever to quit that which he knows he shall take up again with pleasure; and yet if human life be not a little moved with the gentle gales of hope and fears, there may be some danger of its stagnating in an unmanly indolence and security. It is a known story of Domitian, that after he had possessed himself of the Roman empire, his desires turned upon catching flies. Active and masculine spirits in the vigour of youth neither can nor ought to remain at rest; if they debar themselves from aiming at a noble object, their desires will move downwards, and they will feel themselves actuated by some low and abject passion. Thus, if you cut off the top of a tree, and will not suffer it to grow any higher, it will not, therefore, cease to grow, but will quickly shoot out at the bottom. The man, indeed, who goes into the world only with the narrow views of self-interest, who catches at the applause of an idle multitude, as he can find no solid contentment at the end of his journey, so he deserves to meet with disappointments in his way; but he who is actuated by a nobler principle, whose mind is so far enlarged as to take in the prospect of his country's good, who is enamoured with that praise which is one of the fair attendants of virtue, and values not those acclamations which are not seconded by the impartial testimony of his own mind; who repines not at the low station which Providence has at present allotted him, but yet would willingly advance himself by justifiable means to a more rising and advantageous ground; such a man is warmed with a generous emulation; it is a virtuous movement in him to wish and to endeavour that his power of doing good may be equal to his will.

The man who is fitted out by nature, and sent into the world with great abilities, is capable of doing great good or mischief in it. It ought, therefore, to be the care of education to infuse into the untainted youth early notices of justice and honour, that so the possible advantages of good parts may not take an evil turn, nor be perverted to base and unworthy purposes. It is the business of religion and philosophy, not so much to extinguish our passions, as to regulate and direct them to valuable, well-chosen objects; when these have pointed out to us which course we may lawfully steer, it is no harm to set out all our sail; if the storms and tempests of adversity should rise upon us, and not suffer us to make the haven where we would be, it will, however, prove no small consolation to us in these circumstances, that we have neither mistaken our course, nor fallen into calamities of our own procuring.

Religion, therefore, were we to consider it no farther than as it interposes in the affairs of this life, is highly valuable, and worthy of great veneration; as it settles the various pretensions and otherwise interfering interests of mortal men, and thereby consults the harmony and order of the great community; as it gives a man room to play his part and exert his abilities; as it animates to actions truly laudable in themselves, in their effects beneficial to society; as it inspires rational ambition, corrects love, and elevates desire.

EUSTACE BUDGELL, the other principal contributor to the 'Spectator,' was a man of very different character from Hughes. Budgell was born at St. Thomas, near Exeter, in 1685, and educated at Christ's Church College, Oxford. After spending some years at the university, he removed to London and entered the Inner Temple as a student of law; but instead of devoting himself to his legal studies, he surrendered up his entire time and attention to polite literature, and the company of men of fashion. Addison, to whom he was related, patronized him with much kindness, and procured for him several lucrative offices in Ireland; but in 1718, on the appointment of the Duke of Bolton to the Lord Lieutenancy of that king

dom, Budgell was dismissed from office, immediately after which he returned to London, and there passed the remainder of his life. He was a man of extreme vanity, and of revengeful feelings; and a lampoon upon the Irish viceroy was the cause of his disgrace. During the prevalence of the South Sea scheme, he lost a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, and subsequently figured principally as a virulent party writer, and an advocate of free-thinking. At length his declining reputation suffered a mortal blow by the charge being established against him, of having forged a testament in his own favor. In 1737, this wretched man, finding life unsupportable, deliberately committed suicide, by leaping from a boat while shooting London Bridge. After his death a slip of paper was found in his bureau, upon which was written

What Cato did, and Addison approved,
Can not be wrong.

6

Thirty-seven numbers of the 'Spectator' are ascribed to Budgell; and though Dr. Johnson says that these were either written by Addison, or so much improved by him that they were made in a manner his own,' there seems to be no sufficient authority for the assertion, which, in itself, appears somewhat improbable, as Addison would not be likely to allow another to obtain the credit due to himself. It is true that the style and humor resemble those of Addison; but as the two writers were much together, a successful attempt on Budgell's part to imitate the productions of his friend, was probable enough. The contributions of Budgell to the 'Spectator' were distinguished by the letter X; and of these the one on The Art of Growing Rich is perhaps the best.

From these essayists we pass to notice the remaining prose writers of this period, who are Mandeville, Shaftesbury, Echard, Potter, Kennett, Bolingbroke, Clarke, Hoadly, Berkeley, and Lady Montagu. Though some of these are writers of very considerable eminence, still the limited space that we have reserved for them will compel us to be very brief in our remarks.

BERNARD MANDEVILLE was born of English parents, in Holland, in 1670, and in that country received his education, and took his degree as a doctor of medicine. He was a nervous and graphic writer, but unfortunately squandered, upon lax and useless speculations, powers that would have admirably fitted him for a novel writer or essayist. On his arrival in England he commenced the practice of his profession, and from time to time sent forth different publications, which, however, for want of intrinsic merit soon fell into obscurity. In 1723, he produced his celebrated Fable of the Bees, or Private Vices made Public Benefits, which was soon rendered conspicuous by being presented by the grand jury of Middlesex, on account of its immoral and pernicious tendency. Bishop Berkeley answered the arguments of the Fable, and Mandeville replied in Letters to Dion. He also published

Free Thoughts on Religion, and An Inquiry into the Origin of Honour, and the Usefulness of Christianity in War. His death occurred in January 1733, soon after this last publication appeared.

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Mandeville's satires, though general, frequently exhibit strong and lively pictures. He describes the faults and corruptions of different professions and forms of society, and then attempts to show that they are subservient to the grandeur and worldly happiness of the whole. If mankind,' says he, could be cured of the failings they are naturally guilty of, they would cease to be capable of forming vast, potent, and polite societies.' His object was chiefly to divert the reader, being apparently conscious that mankind are not to be reasoned out of their follies. He believed that charity schools, and all sorts of education, are, to the lower classes, injurious; and hence the low and degrading view which he takes of human nature. In this particular he strongly reminds one of Dean Swift. As a specimen of Mandeville's style, we present the following extract:

POMP AND SUPERFLUITY.

If the great ones of the clergy, as well as the laity, of any country whatever, had no value for earthly pleasures, and did not endeavour to gratify their appetites, why are envy and revenge so raging among them, and all the other passions, improved and refined upon in courts of princes more than anywhere else; and why are their repasts, their recreations, and whole manner of living, always such as are approved of, coveted, and imitated by the most sensual people of the same country? If, despising all visible decorations, they were only in love with the embellishments of the mind, why should they borrow so many of the implements, and make use of the most darling toys, of the luxurious? Why should a lord treasurer, or a bishop, or even the Grand Signior, or the Pope of Rome, to be good and virtuous, and endeavour the conquest of his passions, have occasion for greater revenues, richer furniture, or a more numerous attendance as to personal service, than a private man? What virtue is it the exercise of which requires so much pomp and superfluity as are to be seen by all men in power? A man has as much opportunity to practice temperance that has but one dish at a meal, as he that is constantly served with three courses and a dozen dishes in each. One may exercise as much patience and be full of self-denial on a few flocks, without curtains or tester, as in a velvet bed that is sixteen foot high. The virtuous possessions of the mind are neither charge nor burden: a man may bear misfortunes with fortitude in a garret, forgive injuries a-foot, and be chaste, though he has not a shirt to his back; and therefore I shall never believe but that an indifferent sculler, if he was intrusted with it, might carry all the learning and religion that one man can contain, as well as a barge with six oars, especially if it was but to cross from Lambeth to Westminster; or that humility is so ponderous a virtue, that it requires six horses to draw it.

ANTHONY ASHLEY COOPER, the third Earl of Shaftesbury, was born in London, in 1671. After a careful private education, he travelled for some time on the continent, and on his return to England, in 1693, entered the House of Commons. Five years afterwards he repaired to Holland, and cultivated the society of Bayle and Le Clerc. On his return he succeeded to the earldom, and spoke frequently in the House of Lords. All his par

liamentary appearances were creditable to his talents, and honorable to his taste and feelings. His first publication appeared in 1708, and was A Letter on Enthusiasm, prompted by the extravagance of the French prophets, whose zeal had degenerated into intolerance. In 1709, appeared his Moralists, a Philosophical Rhapsody, and Sensus Communis, an essay upon the freedom of wit and humor. In this latter production he vindicates the use of ridicule as a test of truth. In 1710 he published another slight work, A Soliloquy, or Advice to an Author. Soon afterwards ill health compelled him to seek a warmer climate; and he fixed on Naples, where his death occurred in February, 1713, at the early age of forty-two. A complete collection of his works was published in 1716, under the general title of Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times.

The style of Lord Shaftesbury is lofty and musical. He bestowed so great pains on the construction of his sentences, that the labor is apparent. Desirous also of blending the nobleman and man of the world, with the author, a tone of assumption and familiarity deforms some of his arguments and illustrations. He was an ardent admirer of the ancients, and in his dialogue entitled 'The Moralists,' has adopted, in a great measure, the elevated style of his favorite Plato. With those who hold in like estimation the works of that divine philosopher,' and who are willing to exchange continuity, precision, and simplicity, for melody, and stateliness of diction, 'The Moralists' can not fail to be regarded with enthusiastic admiration.

As a moralist, Lord Shaftesbury holds a very conspicuous place. He was the founder of that school of philosophers by whom virtue and vice are regarded as naturally and fundamentally distinct, and who consider man to be endowed with a 'moral sense' by which these are discriminated, and at once approved of or condemned, without reference to the self-interest of him who judges. In opposition to Hobbes, he maintains that the nature of man is such as to lead to the exercise of benevolent and disinterested affections in the social state; and he earnestly inculcates the doctrine, that virtue is more conducive than vice to the temporal happiness of those who practice it. He speaks of conscience, or a natural sense of the odiousness of crime and injustice; and remarks, that as, in the case of objects of the external senses,' the shapes, motions, colors, and proportions of these latter being presented to our eye, there necessarily results a beauty or deformity, according to the different measure, arrangement, and disposition of the several parts; so, in behaviour and actions, when presented to our understanding, there must be found, of necessity, an apparent difference, according to the regularity and irregularity of the subject. The mind,' says he, 'feels the soft and harsh, the agreeable and disagreeable, in the affections; and finds a foul and fair, a harmonious and dissonant, as really and truly here as in any musical numbers, or in the outward forms or representations of sensible things. Nor can it withhold its admiration and ecstacy, its aversion and scorn, any more in what relates to one than to the other of these subjects. However false or corrupt it be within itself, it finds the difference,

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