fear to lose it, make it a very hard part to | much insisted upon, I shall but just mention behave as becomes your humble slave, 'CYNTHIÓ.' HYPOCRISY at the fashionable end of the town is very different from hypocrisy in the city. The modish hypocrite endeavours to appear more vicious than he really is, the other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The former is afraid of every thing that has the show of religion in it, and would be thought engaged in many criminal gallantries and amours which he is not guilty of. The latter assumes a face of sanctity, and covers a multitude of vices under a seeming religious deportment. But there is another kind of hypocrisy, which differs from both these, and which I intend to make the subject of this paper: I mean that hypocrisy, by which a man does not only deceive the world, but very often imposes on himself: that hypocrisy which conceals his own heart from him, and makes him believe he is more virtuous than he really is, and either not attend to his vices, or mistake even his vices for virtues. It is this fatal hypocrisy, and self-deceit, which is taken notice of in those words. Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.' them, since they have been handled by many great and eminent writers. I would therefore propose the following methods to the consideration of such as would find out their secret faults, and make a true estimate of themselves. In the first place, let them consider well what are the characters which they bear among their enemies. Our friends very often flatter us, as much as our own hearts. They either do not see our faults, or conceal them from us, or soften them by their representations, after such a manner that we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. An adversary, on the contrary, makes a stricter search into us, discovers every flaw and imperfection in our tempers; and though his malice may set them in too strong a light, it has generally some ground for what it advances. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues, an enemy inflames his crimes. A wise man should give a just attention to both of them, so far as they may tend to the improvement of one, and the diminution of the other. Plutarch has written an essay on the benefits which a man may receive from his enemies, and, among the good fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, that by the reproaches which it casts upon us we see the worst side of ourselves, and open our eyes to several blemishes and defects ir. our lives and conversations, which we should not have observed without the help of such ill-natured monitors. In order likewise to come at a true knowledge of ourselves, we should consider on the other hand how far we may deserve the praises and approbations which the world bestow upon us; whether the actions they celebrate proceed from laudable and worthy motives; and how far we are really possessed of the virtues which gain us applause among those with whom we converse. Such a reflection is absolutely necessary, if we consider how apt we are either to value or condemn ourselves by the opinions of others, and to sacrifice the report of our own hearts to the judgment of the world. If the open professors of impiety deserve the utmost application and endeavours of moral writers to recover them from vice In the next place, that we may not deand folly, how much more may those lay a ceive ourselves in a point of so much imclaim to their care and compassion, who portance, we should not lay too great a are walking in the paths of death, while stress on any supposed virtues we possess they fancy themselves engaged in a course that are of a doubtful nature: and such we of virtue! I shall endeavour therefore to lay may esteem all those in which multitudes down some rules for the discovery of those of men dissent from us, who are as good and vices that lurk in the secret corners of the wise as ourselves. We should always act soul, and to show my reader those methods with great cautiousness and circumspection by which he may arrive at a true and im- in points where it is not impossible that partial knowledge of himself. The usual we may be deceived. Intemperate zeal, means prescribed for this purpose are to bigotry, and persecution for any party or examine ourselves by the rules which are opinion, how praise-worthy soever they laid down for our direction in sacred writ, may appear to weak men of our own prinand to compare our lives with the life of ciples, produce infinite calamities among that person who acted up to the perfection mankind, and are highly criminal in their of human nature, and is the standing ex- own nature: and yet how many persons ample, as well as the great guide and in-eminent for piety suffer such monstrous and structor, of those who receive his doctrines, absurd principles of action to take root in Though these two heads cannot be tool their minds under the colour of virtues! Between declining virtue and desire, For my own part, I must own I never yet Raise such a conflict, kindle such a fire, We should likewise be very apprehensive of those actions which proceed from natural constitutions, favourite passions, particular education, or whatever promotes our worldly interest or advantage. In these and the like cases, a man's judgment is easily perverted, and a wrong bias hung upon his mind. These are the inlets of prejudice, the unguarded avenues of the mind, by which a thousand errors and secret faults find admission, without being observed or taken notice of. A wise man will suspect those actions to which he is directed by something besides reason, and always apprehend some concealed evil in every resolution that is of a disputable nature, when it is conformable to his particular temper, his age, or way of life, or when it favours his pleasure or his profit. There is nothing of greater importance to us than thus diligently to sift our thoughts, and examine all these dark recesses of the mind, if we would establish our souls in such a solid and substantial virtue, as will turn to account in that great day when it must stand the test of infinite wisdom and justice. I shall conclude this essay with observing that the two kinds of hypocrisy I have here spoken of, namely, that of deceiving the world, and that of imposing on ourselves, are touched with wonderful beauty in the hundred and thirty-ninth psalm. The folly of the first kind of hypocrisy is there set forth by reflections on God's omniscience and omnipresence, which are celebrated in as noble strains of poetry as any other I ever met with, either sacred or profane. The other kind of hypocrisy, whereby a man deceives himself, is intimated in the two last verses, where the psalmist addresses himself to the great Searcher of hearts in that emphatical petition: Try me, O God! and seek the ground of my heart; prove me, and examine my thoughts. Look well if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.' L. No. 400.] Monday, June 9, 1712. That the poor vanquish'd maid dissolves away This prevailing gentle art was made up of complaisance, courtship, and artful conformity to the modesty of a woman's manners. Rusticity, broad expression and forward obtrusion, offend those of education, and make the transgressors odious to all who have merit enough to attract regard. It is in this taste that the scenery is so beautifully ordered in the description which Antony makes in the dialogue between him and Dolabella, of Cleopatra in her barge. 'Her galley down the silver Cidnos row'd: Here the imagination is warmed with all the objects presented, and yet there is nothing that is luscious, or what raises any idea more loose than that of a beautiful woman set off to advantage. The like, or a more delicate and careful spirit of modesty, appears in the following passage in one of Mr. Phillips's pastorals. Breathe soft, ye winds! ye waters, gently flow! Desire is corrected when there is a ten derness or admiration expressed which partakes the passion. Licentious language has something brutal in it, which disgraces humanity, and leaves us in the condition of the savages in the field. But it may be asked, To what good use can tend a disCourse of this kind at all? It is to alarm chaste ears against such as have, what is above called, the prevailing gentle art.' Masters of that talent are capable of clothing their thoughts in so soft a dress, and something so distant from the secret purpose of their heart, that the imagination of the unguarded is touched with a fondness, which grows too insensibly to be resisted. Much care and concern for the lady's wel -Latet anguis in herba.-Virg. Ecl. iii. 93. There's a snake in the grass.-English Proverb. IT should, methinks, preserve modesty and its interests in the world, that the trans-fare, to seem afraid lest she should be angression of it always creates offence; and the very purposes of wantonness are defeated by a carriage which has in it so much boldness, as to intimate that fear and reluctance are quite extinguished in an object which would be otherwise desirable. It was said of a wit of the last age, Sedley has that prevailing gentle art, Which can with a resistless charm impart The loosest wishes to the chastest heart; noyed by the very air which surrounds her, and expressed by an interjection, an 'ah,' and this uttered rather with kind looks, or an oh,' at some little hazard in moving or making a step, than in any direct pr fession of love, are the methods of skilful admirers. They are honest arts when their purpose is such, but infamous when misap * Dryden's All for Love, act iii. sc. 1. plied. It is certain that many a young woman in this town has had her heart irrecoverably won, by men who have not made one advance which ties their admirers, though the females languish with the utmost anxiety. I have often, by way of admonition to my female readers, given them warning against agreeable company of the other sex, except they are well acquainted with their characters. Women may disguise it if they think fit; and the more to do it, they may be angry at me for saying it; but I say it is natural to them, that they have no manner of approbation of men, without some degree of love. For this reason he is dangerous to be entertained as a friend or visitant, who is capable of gaining any eminent esteem or observation, though it be never so remote from pretensions as a lover. If a man's heart has not the abhorrence of any treacherous design, he may easily improve approbation into kindness, and kindness into passion. There may possibly be no manner of love between them in the eyes of all their acquaintance; no, it is all friendship; and yet they may be as fond as shepherd and shepherdess, in a pastoral, but still the nymph and the swain may be to each other, no other, I warrant you, than Pylades and Orestes. have, though a tolerable good philosopher, but a low opinion of Platonic love: for which reason I thought it necessary to give my fair readers a caution against it, having, to my great concern, observed the waist of a Platonist lately swell to a roundness which is inconsistent with that philosophy. T. No. 401.] Tuesday, June 10, 1712. In amore hæc omnia insunt vitia. Injuriæ, Ter. Eun. Act i. Sc. 1. It is the capricious state of love, to be attended with injuries, suspicions, enmities, truces, quarrelling, and reconcilement. this day, an odd sort of a packet, which I I SHALL publish for the entertainment of have just received from one of my female correspondents. 'MR. SPECTATOR,-Since you have often confessed that you are not displeased your papers should sometimes convey the complaints of distressed lovers to each other, I am in hopes you will favour one who gives you an undoubted instance of her reformation, and at the same time a convincing proof of the happy influence your labours have had over the most incorrigible part When Lucy decks with flowers her swelling breast, of the most incorrigible sex. Yor must And on her elbow leans, dissembling rest; Unable to refrain my madding mind, 'Once Delia slept, on easy moss reclin'd, Such good offices as these, and such friendly thoughts and concerns for another, are what make up the amity, as they call it, between man and woman. know, sir, I am one of that species of women, whom you have often characterized under the name of "jilts," and that I send you these lines as well to do public penance for having so long continued in a known error, as to beg pardon of the party of fended. I the rather choose this way, because it in some measure answers the terms on which he intimated the breach between us might possibly be made up, as you will see by the letter he sent me the next day after I had discarded him; which I thought fit to send you a copy of, that you might the better know the whole case. It is the permission of such intercourse that makes a young woman come to the arms of her husband, after the disappointment of four or five passions which she has successively had for different men, before she 'I must further acquaint you, that before is prudentially given to him for whom she I jilted him, there had been the greatest has neither love nor friendship. For what intimacy between us for a year and a half should a poor creature do that has lost all together, during all which time I cherished her friends? There's Marinet the agree- his hopes, and indulged his flame. I leave able has, to my knowledge, had a friend-you to guess, after this, what must be his ship for lord Welford, which had like to surprise, when upon his pressing for my break her heart: then she had so great a full consent one day, I told him I wondered friendship for colonel Hardy, that she could what could make him fancy he had ever not endure any woman else should do any any place in my affections. His own sex thing but rail at him. Many and fatal have allow him sense, and all ours good-breedbeen disasters between friends who have ing. His person is such as might, without fallen out, and these resentments are more vanity, make him believe himself not incakeen than ever those of other men can pos-pable of being beloved. Our fortunes, insibly be; but in this it happens unfortu-deed, weighed in the nice scale of interest, nately, that as there ought to be nothing concealed from one friend to another, the friends of different sexes very often find fatal effects from their unanimity. For my part, who study to pass life in as much innocence and tranquillity as I can, I shun the company of agreeable women as much as possible; and must confess that I are not exactly equal, which by the way was the true cause of my jilting him; and I had the assurance to acquaint him with the following maxim, that I should always believe that man's passion to be the most violent, who could offer me the largest settlement. I have since changed my opinion, and have endeavoured to let him know so 'AMORET.' much by several letters, but the barbarous the fields, and gardens, without Philander, man has refused them all; so that I have afford no pleasure to the unhappy no way left of writing to him but by your assistance. If you can bring him about once more, I promise to send you all gloves and favours, and shall desire the favour of Sir Roger and yourself to stand as godfathers to my first boy. I am, sir, your most obedient humble servant, 'AMORET.' Philander to Amoret. 'MADAM,-I am so surprised at the question you were pleased to ask me yesterday, that I am still at a loss what to say to it. At least my answer would be too long to trouble you with, as it would come from a person, who, it seems, is so very indiffer 'I must desire you, dear Mr. Spectator, to publish this my letter to Philander as soon as possible, and to assure him that I know nothing at all of the death of his rich uncle in Gloucestershire. No. 402.] X. Wednesday, June 11, 1712. -et quæ Ipse sibi tradit Spectator. Hor Ars Poet. 1. 181. Sent by the Spectator to himself. I receive from different hands, and perWERE I to publish all the advertisements ent to you. Instead of it, I shall only re- the very mention of them, without reflecsons of different circumstances and quality, commend to your consideration the opinion tions on the several subjects, would raise all of one whose sentiments on these matters I the passions which can be felt by human have often heard you say are extremely just. minds. As instances of this, I shall give "A generous and constant passion," says you two or three letters; the writers of your favourite author, "in an agreeable which can have no recourse to any legal lover, where there is not too great a dispa-power for redress, and seem to have writrity in their circumstances, is the greatest ten rather to vent their sorrow than to reblessing that can befal a person beloved; ceive consolation. and if overlooked in one, may perhaps never be found in another." 'The world has seen me shamefully lose that time to please a fickle woman, which might have been employed much more to my credit and advantage in other pursuits. I shall therefore take the liberty to acquaint you, however harsh it may sound in a lady's ears, that though your love-fit should happen to return, unless you could contrive a way to make your recantation as well known to the public as they are already apprized of the manner with which you have treated me, you shall never more see 'PHILANDER.' 'MR SPECTATOR,-I am a young woman 'I do not, however, at all despair of being of beauty and quality, and suitably married But this very shortly much better beloved by you to a gentleman who doats on me. than Antenor is at present; since, when-person of mine is the object of an unjust ever my fortune shall exceed his, you were passion in a nobleman who is very intimate pleased to intimate, your passion would in- with my husband. This friendship gives crease accordingly. him very easy access and frequent opportunities of entertaining me apart. My heart is in the utmost anguish, and my face is covered over with confusion, when I impart to you another circumstance, which is, that my mother, the most mercenary of all women, is gained by this false friend of my husband's to solicit me for him. I am frequently chid by the poor believing man, my husband, for showing an impatience of his with my mother, but she tells me stories of friend's company; and I am never alone the discretionary part of the world, and such-a-one, and such-a-one, who are guilty of as much as she advises me to. She laughs at my astonishment; and seems to hint to me, that, as virtuous as she has always ap'SIR,-Upon reflection, I find the injury peared, I am not the daughter of her husI have done both to you and myself to be band. It is possible that printing this letter so great, that, though the part I now act may relieve me from the unnatural impormay appear contrary to that decorum usu-tunity of my mother, and the perfidious ally observed by our sex, yet I purposely break through all rules, that my repentance may in some measure equal my crime. I assure you, that in my present hopes of recovering you, I look upon Antenor's estate with contempt. The fop was here yesterday in a gilt chariot and new liveries, but I refused to see him.-Though I dread to meet your eyes, after what has passed, I flatter myself, that, amidst all their confusion, you will discover such a tenderness in mine, as none can imitate but those who love. I shall be all this month at lady D's in the country; but the woods, Amoret to Philander. courtship of my husband's friend. I have an unfeigned love of virtue, and am resolved to preserve my innocence. The only way I can think of to avoid the fatal consequences of the discovery of this matter, is to fly away for ever, which I must do to avoid my husband's fatal resentment against the man who attempts to abuse him, and the shame of exposing a parent to infamy. The persons concerned will know these circumstances relate to them; and though the regard to virtue is dead in them, I have some hopes from their fear of shame upon reading this in your paper; which I conjure you to publish, if you have any compassion | he was sorry he had made so little use of for injured virtue. 'SYLVIA.' tleman who deserves her. I am in a trust command what services I can do her. 59 affliction. the unguarded hours we had been together so remote from company; "as, indeed,' MR. SPECTATOR,-I am the husband continued he, "so we are at present." I of a woman of merit, but am fallen in love, flew from him to a neighbouring gentleas they call it, with a lady of her acquaint-woman's house, and though her husband ance, who is going to be married to a gen- and burst into a passion of tears. My friend was in the room, threw myself on a couch, relating to this lady's fortune, which makes desired her husband to leave the room. my concurrence in this matter necessary; extraordinary in this, that I will partake in "But," said he, "there is something so but I have so irresistible a rage and envy the affliction; and be it what it will, she is rise in me when I consider his future happiness, that against all reason, equity, and so much your friend, she knows she may common justice, I am ever playing mean The man sat down by me, and spoke so tricks to suspend the nuptials. I have no like a brother, that I told him my whole manner of hopes for myself; Emilia, for so I'll call her, is a woman of the most strict He spoke of the injury done me virtue; her lover is a gentleman whom of with so much indignation, and animated me all others I could wish my friend; but envy against the love he said he saw I had for and jealousy, though placed so unjustly, with so much reason and humanity to my the wretch who would have betrayed me, waste my very being; and, with the tor- weakness, that I doubt not of my perseverment and sense of a demon, I am ever ance. His wife and he are my comforters, cursing what I cannot but approve. I wish it were the beginning of repentance, that I and I am under no more restraint in their sit down and describe my present disposi- company than if I were alone; and I doubt tion with so hellish an aspect: but at pre- will take place of the remains of affection not but in a small time contempt and hatred sent the destruction of these two excellent persons would be more welcome to me than to a rascal. I am, sir, your affectionate their happiness. Mr. Spectator, pray let reader, DORINDA.' me have a paper on these terrible ground- 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I had the misforless sufferings, and do all you can to ex-tune to be an uncle before I knew my orcise crowds who are in some degree nephews from my nieces: and now we are possessed as I am. CANIBAL.' grown up to better acquaintance, they deny 'CORNELIUS NEPOS.' 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I have no other means but this to express my thanks to one man, and my resentment against another. My circumstances are as follow: I have been for five years last past courted by a gentleman of greater fortune than I ought to expect, as the market for women goes. You must, to be sure, have observed people who live in that sort of way, as all their friends reckon it will be a match, and are marked out by all the world for each other. In this view we have been regarded for some time, and I have above these three years loved him tenderly. As he is very careful of his fortune, I always thought he lived in a near manner, to lay up what he thought was wanting in my fortune to make up what he might expect in another. Within these few months I have observed No. 403.] Thursday, June 12, 1712. his carriage very much altered, and he has affected a certain air of getting me alone, and talking with a mighty profusion of passionate words, how I am not to be reOf many men he saw the manners. sisted longer, how irresistible his wishes WHEN I consider this great_city in its are, and the like. As long as I have been several quarters and divisions, I look upon acquainted with him, I could not on such it as an aggregate of various nations disoccasions say downright to him, "You tinguished from each other by their respecknow you may make me yours when you tive customs, manners, and interests. The please." But the other night he with great courts of two countries do not so much diffrankness and impudence explained to me, fer from one another, as the court and city, that he thought of me only as a mistress. in their peculiar ways of life and conversaI answered this declaration as it deserved; tion. In short, the inhabitants of St. James's, upon which he only doubled the terms on notwithstanding they live under the same which he proposed my yielding. When laws, and speak the same language, are a my anger heightened upon him, he told me I distinct people from those of Cheapside, Qui mores hominum multorum vidit Hor. Ars Poet. v. 142. |