I look up to Thee, who art the God of my life, and my portion to all eternity.' No. 70.] Monday, June 1, 1713. to pass, that philosophers judge of most things very differently from the vulgar. Some instances of this may be seen in the Themtetus of Plato, where Socrates makes the following remarks, among others of the like nature. -mentisque capacius alt. Ovid. Met. Lib. i. 76. When a philosopher hears ten thousand acres mentioned as a great estate, he looks Of thoughts enlarg'd, and more exalted mind. upon it as an inconsiderable spot, having been As I was the other day taking a solitary walk used to contemplate the whole globe of earth. in St. Paul's, I indulged my thoughts in the Or when he beholds a man elated with the nopursuit of a certain analogy between that fabric bility of his race, because he can reckon a series and the Christian church in the largest sense. of seven rich ancestors; the philosopher thinks The divine order and economy of the one him a stupid ignorant fellow, whose mind canseemed to be emblematically set forth by the not reach to a general view of human nature, just, plain, and majestic architecture of the which would show him that we have all innuother. And as the one consists of a great vamerable ancestors, among whom are crowds of riety of parts united in the same regular design, rich and poor, kings and slaves, Greeks and according to the truest art, and most exact barbarians.' Thus far Socrates, who was acproportion; so the other contains a decent sub-counted wiser than the rest of the heathens, ordination of members, various sacred institu- for notions which approach the nearest to tions, sublime doctrines, and solid precepts of Christianity. morality digested into the same design, and with an admirable concurrence tending to one view, the happiness and exaltation of human nature. As all parts and branches of philosophy, or speculative knowledge, are useful in that respect, astronomy is peculiarly adapted to remedy a little and narrow spirit. In that science there are good reasons assigned to prove the In the midst of my contemplation, I beheld a fly upon one of the pillars; and it straight-sun a hundred thousand times bigger than our way came into my head, that this same fly was a free-thinker. For it required some comprehension in the eye of the spectator, to take in at one view the various parts of the building, in order to observe their symmetry and design. But to the fly, whose prospect was confined to a little part of one of the stones of a single pillar, the joint beauty of the whole, or the distinct use of its parts, were inconspicuous, and nothing could appear but small inequalities in the surface of the hewn stone, which in the view of that insect seemed so many deformed rocks and precipices. The thoughts of a free-thinker are employed on certain minute particularities of religion, the difficulty of a single text, or the unaccountableness of some step of Providence or point of doctrine to his narrow faculties, without comprehending the scope and design of Christianity, the perfection to which it raiseth human nature, the light it hath shed abroad in the world, and the close connexion it hath as well with the good of public societies, as with that of particular persons. This raised in me some reflections on that frame or disposition which is called 'largeness of mind,' its necessity towards forming a true judgment of things, and where the soul is not incurably stinted by nature, what are the likeliest methods to give it enlargement. It is evident that philosophy doth open and enlarge the mind, by the general views to which men are habituated in that study, and by the contemplation of more numerous and distant objects, than fall within the sphere of mankind in the ordinary pursuits of life. Hence it comes earth, and the distance of the stars so prodigious, that a cannon-bullet continuing in its ordinary rapid motion, would not arrive from hence at the nearest of them in the space of a hundred and fifty thousand years. These ideas wonderfully dilate and expand the mind. There is something in the immensity of this distance that shocks and overwhelms the imagination; it is too big for the grasp of a human intellect: estates, provinces, and kingdoms, vanish at its presence. It were to be wished a certain prince, who hath encouraged the study of it in his subjects, had been himself a proficient in astronomy. This might have showed him how mean an ambition that was, which terminated in a small part of what is itself but a point, in respect to that part of the universe which lies within our view. But the Christian religion ennobleth and enlargeth the mind beyond any other profession or science whatsoever. Upon that scheme, while the earth, and the transient enjoyments of this life, shrink into the narrowest dimensions, and are accounted as the dust of a balance, the drop of a bucket, yea, less than nothing,' the intellectual world opens wider to our view. The perfections of the Deity, the nature and excellence of virtue, the dignity of the human soul, are displayed in the largest characters. The mind of man seems to adapt itself to the different nature of its objects; it is contracted and debased by being conversant in little and low things, and feels a proportionable enlargement arising from the contemplation of these great and sublime ideas. Lewis XIV The greatness of things is comparative; and this does not only hold in respect of extension, but likewise in respect of dignity, duration, and all kinds of perfection. Astronomy opens the mind, and alters our judgment, with regard to the magnitude of extended beings; but Christianity produceth a universal greatness of soul. Philosophy increaseth our views in every respect, but Christianity extends them to a degree beyond the light of nature. How mean must the most exalted potentate upon earth appear to that eye which takes in innumerable orders of blessed spirits, differing in glory and perfection! How little must the amusements of sense, and the ordinary occupations of mortal men, seem to one who is engaged in so noble a pursuit, as the assimilation of himself to the Deity, which is the proper employment of every Christian And the improvement which grows from habituating the mind to the comprehensive views of religion must not be thought wholly to regard the understanding. Nothing is of greater force to subdue the inordinate motions of the heart, and to regulate the will. Whether a man be actuated by his passions or his reason, these are first wrought upon by some object, which stirs the soul in proportion to its apparent dimensions. Hence irreligious men, whose short prospects are filled with earth, and sense, and mortal life, are invited, by these mean ideas, to actions proportionably little and low. But a mind, whose views are enlightened and extended by religion, is animated to nobler pursuits by more sublime and remote objects. There is not any instance of weakness in the free-thinkers that raises my indignation more, than their pretending to ridicule Christians, as men of narrow understandings, and to pass themselves upon the world for persons of superior sense, and more enlarged views. But I leave it to any impartial man to judge which hath the nobler sentiments, which the greater views; he whose notions are stinted to a few miserable inlets of sense, or he whose sentiments are raised above the common taste, by the anticipation of those delights which will satiate the soul, when the whole capacity of her nature is branched out into new faculties? He who looks for nothing beyond this short span of duration, or he whose aims are co-extended with the endless length of eternity? He who derives his spirit from the elements, or he who thinks it was inspired by the Almighty? No beast, of more potentous size, Roscommon. I QUESTION not but my country customers will be surprised to hear me complain that this town is, of late years, very much infested with lions: and will perhaps, look upon it as a strange piece of news when I assure them that there are many of these beasts of prey, who walk our streets in broad day-light, beating about from coffee-house to coffee-house, and seeking whom they may devour. To unriddle this paradox, I must acquaint my rural reader that we polite men of the town give the name of a lion to any one that is a great man's spy. And whereas I cannot discharge my office of Guardian without setting a mark on such a noxious animal, and cautioning my wards against him, I design this whole paper as an essay upon the political lion. Those who have a It has cost me a great deal of time to discover the reason of this appellation, but after many disquisitions and conjectures on so obscure a subject, I find there are two accounts of it more satisfactory than the rest. In the republic of Venice, which has been always the mother of politics, there are near the doge's palace several large figures of lions curiously wrought in marble, with mouths gaping in a most enormous manner. mind to give the state any private intelligence of what passes in the city, put their hands into the mouth of one of these lions, and convey into it a paper of such private informations as any way regard the interest or safety of the commonwealth. By this means all the secrets of state come out of the lion's mouth. The informer is concealed; it is the lion that tells every thing. In short, there is not a mismanagement in office, or a murmur in conversation, which the lion does not acquaint the government with. For this reason, say the learned, a spy is very properly distinguished by the name of lion. I must confess this etymology is plausible enough, and I did for some time acquiesce in it, till about a year or two ago I met with a little manuscript which sets this whole matter in a clear light. In the reign of queen Elizabeth, says my author, the renowned Walsingham had many spies in his service, from whom the government received great advantage. The most eminent among them was the statesman's barber, whose surname was Lion. This fellow had an admirable knack of fishing out the secrets of his customers, as they were under his hands. He would rub and lather a man's head, till he had got out every thing that was in it. He had a certain snap in his fingers and a volubility in his tongue, that would engage a man to talk with him whether he would or no. By this means he became an inex- | haustible fund of private intelligence, and so signalized himself in the capacity of a spy, that from his time a master-spy goes under the name of a lion. Walsingham had a most excellent penetratiou, and never attempted to turn any man into a lion whom he did not see highly qualified for it when he was in his human condition. Indeed the speculative men of those times say of him, that he would now and then play them off, and expose them a little unmercifully; but that, in my opinion, seems only good policy, for otherwise they might set up for men again, when they thought fit, and desert his service. But however, though in that very corrupt age he made use of these animals, he had a great esteem for true men, and always exerted the highest generosity in offering them more, without asking terms of them, and doing more for them out of mere respect for their talents, though against him, than they could expect from any other minister whom they had served never so conspicuously. This made Raleigh (who profest himself his opponent) say one day to a friend, Pox take this Walsingham, he baffles every body; he won't so much as let a man hate him in private.' True it is, that by the wanderings, roarings, and lurkings of his lions, he knew the way to every man breathing, who had not a contempt for the world itself. He had Lions rampant whom he used for the service of the church, and couchant who were to lie down for the queen. They were so much at command, that the couchant would act as the rampant, and the rampant as couchant, without being the least out of countenance, and all this within four-and-twenty hours. Walsingham had the pleasantest life in the world; for, by the force of his power and intelligence, he saw men as they really were, and not as the world thought of them all this was principally brought about by feeding his lions well, or keeping them hungry, according to their different constitutions. Having giving this short, but necessary account of this statesman and his barber, who, like the tailor in Shakspeare's Pyramus and Thysbe, was a man made as other men are, notwithstanding he was a nominal lion, I shall proceed to the description of this strange species of creatures. Ever since the wise Walsingham was secretary in this nation, our statesmen are said to have encouraged the breed among us, as very well knowing that a lion in our British arms is one of the supporters of the crown, and that it is impossible for a government, in which there are such a variety of factions and intrigues, to subsist without this necessary animal. A lion, or master-spy, hath several jack-calls under him, who are his retailers in intelligence, and bring him in materials for his report; his chief haunt is a coffee-house, and as his voice is exceeding strong, it aggravates the sound of every thing it repeats. As the lion generally thirsts after blood, and is of a fierce and cruel nature, there are no secrets which he hunts after with more delight, than those that cut off heads, hang, draw, and quarter, or end in the ruin of the person who becomes his prey. If he gets the wind of any word or action that may do a man good, it is not for his purpose, he quits the chace and falls into a more agreeable scent. He discovers a wonderful sagacity in seeking after his prey. He couches and frisks about in a thousand sportful motions to draw it within his reach, and has a particular way of imitating the sound of the creature whom he would ensnare; an artifice to be met with in no beast of prey, except the hyæna and the political lion. You seldom see a cluster of newsmongers without a lion in the midst of them. He never misses taking his stand within ear-shot of one of those little ambitious men who set up for orators in places of public resort. If there is a whispering-hole, or any public-spirited corner in a coffee-house, you never fail of seeing a lion couched upon his elbow in some part of the neighbourhood. A lion is particularly addicted to the perusal of every loose paper that lies in his way. He appears more than ordinary attentive to what he reads, while he listens to those who are about him. He takes up the Post-man, and snuffs the candle that he may hear the better by it. I have seen a lion pore upon a single paragraph in an old gazatte for two hours together, if his neighbours have been talking all that while. Having given a full description of this monster, for the benefit of such innocent persons as may fall into his walks, I shall apply a word or two to the lion himself, whom I would desire to consider that he is a creature hated both by God and man, and regarded with the utmost contempt even by such as make use of him. Hangmen and executioners are necessary in a state, and so may the animal I have been here mentioning; but how despicable is the wretch that takes on him so vile an employment? There is scarce a being that would not suffer by a comparison with him, except that being only who acts the same kind of part, and is both the tempter and accuser of mankind. N. B. Mr. Ironside has, within five weeks last past, muzzled three lions, gorged five, and killed one. On Monday next the skin of the dead one will be hung up in terrorem, at Button's coffee-house, over against Tom's in Covent-Garden. he is making fools merry, and wise men sick; Infamy is so cutting an evil, that most per- It hath been often said, that women seem OXFORD is a place which I am more inquisitive about than even that of my nativity; and when I have an account of any sprightly saying, or rising genius from thence, it brings my own youthful days into my mind, and throws me forty years back into life. It is for this reason, that I bave thought myself a little neglected of late by Jack Lizard, from whom I used to hear at least once a week. The last post brought me his excuse, which is, that be hath been wholly taken up in preparing some exercises for the theatre. He tells me like-formed to soften the boisterous passions, and wise, that the talk there is about a public act, sooth the cares and anxieties to which men and that the gay part of the university have are exposed in the many perplexities of life. great expectation of a Terræ-filius, who is to That having weaker bodies, and less strength lash and sting all the world in a satyrical of mind than man, nature hath poured out speech. Against the great licence which hath her charms upon them, and given them such heretofore been taken in these libels, he ex- tenderness of heart, that the most delicate depresses himself with such humanity, as is very light we receive from them is, in thinking them unusual in a young person, and ought to be entirely ours, and under our protection. Accherished and admired. For my own part, cordingly we find, that all nations have paid a I so far agree with him, that if the university decent homage to this weaker and lovelier part permits a thing, which I think much better let of the rational creation, in proportion to their alone; I hope those, whose duty it is to ap-removal from savageness and barbarism. Chaspoint a proper person for that office, will take care that he utter nothing unbecoming a gentleman, a scholar, and a Christian. Moreover, I would have them consider that their learned body hath already enemies enough, who are prepared to aggravate all irreverent insinuations, and to interpret all oblique indecencies, who will triumph in such a victory, and bid the university thank herself for the consequences. In my time I remember the Terræ-filius contented himself with being bitter upon the pope, or chastising the Turk; and raised a serious and manly mirth, and adapted to the dignity of his auditory, by exposing the false reasoning of the heretic, or ridiculing the clumsy pretenders to genius and politeness. In the jovial reign of king Charles the Second, wherein never did more wit or more ribaldry abound, the fashion of being arch upon all that was grave, and waggish upon the ladies, crept into our seats of learning upon these occasions. This was managed grossly and awkwardly enough, in a place where the general plainness and simplicity of manners could ill bear the mention of such crimes, as in courts and great cities are called by the specious names of air and gallantry. It is to me amazing, that ever any man, bred up in the knowledge of virtue and humanity, should so far cast off all shame and tenderness, as to stand up in the face of thousands, and utter such contumelies as I have read and heard of. Let such a one know that tity and truth are the only due returns that ? Irreverent reflections upon men of learning | law to forbid it. Were I to advise in this and note, if their character be sacred, do great matter, I should represent to the orator how disservice to religion, and betray a vile mind noble a field there lay before him for panegyric; in the author. I have therefore always thought what a happy opportunity he had of doing juswith indignation upon that' accuser of the tice to the great men who once were of that brethren,' the famous antiquary, whose em- famous body, or now shine forth in it; nor ployment it was for several years, to rake up should I neglect to insinuate the advantages all the ill-natured stories that had ever been he might propose by gaining their friendship, fastened upon celebrated men, and transmit whose worth, by a contrary treatment, he will them to posterity with cruel industry, and be imagined either not to know, or to envy. malicious joy. Though the good men, ill-used, This might rescue the name from scandal ; may out of a meek and Christian disposition, and if, as it ought, this performance turned so far subdue their natural resentment, as to solely upon matters of wit and learning, it neglect and forgive; yet the inventors of such might have the honour of being one of the calumnies will find generous persons, whose first productions of the magnificent printing bravery of mind makes them think themselves | house, just erected at Oxford. proper instruments to chastise such insolence. And I have in my time, more than once known the discipline of the blanket administered to the offenders, and all their slanders answered by that kind of syllogism which the ancient Romans called the argumentum bacillinum. This paper is written with a design to make my journey to Oxford agreeable to me, where I design to be at the Public Act. If my advice is neglected, I shall not scruple to insert in the Guardian whatever the men of letters and genius transmit to me, in their own vindication; and I hereby promise that I myself will draw my pen in defence of all injured women. I have less compassion for men of sprightly parts and genius, whose characters are played upon, because they have it in their power to revenge themselves tenfold. But I think of all the classes of mankind, they are the most No. 73.] Thursday, June 4, 1713. pardonable if they pay the slanderer in his own coin. For their names being already blazed abroad in the world, the least blot thrown upon them is displayed far and wide; and they have this sad privilege above the men in obscurity, that the dishonour travels as far as their fame. To be even therefore with their enemy, they are but too apt to diffuse his infamy as far as their own reputation; and perhaps triumph in secret, that they have it in their power to make his name the scoff and derision of after-ages. This, I say, they are too apt to do. For sometimes they resent the exposing of their little affectations or slips in writing, as much as wounds upon their honour. The first are trifles they should laugh away, but the latter deserves their utmost severity. In amore hæc insunt omnia. Ter. Ean. Act. i. Sc. 1. All these things are inseparable from love. IT is a matter of great concern that there come so many letters to me, wherein I see parents make love for their children, and, without any manner of regard to the season of life, and the respective interests of their progeny, judge of their future happiness by the rules of ordinary commerce. When a man falls in love in some families, they use him as if his land was mortgaged to them, and he cannot discharge himself, but by really making it the same thing in an unreasonable settlement, or foregoing what is dearer to him than his estate itself. These extortioners are of all others the most cruel, and the sharks, who prey upon the inadvertency of young heirs, are more pardonable than those who trespass upon the good opinion of those who treat with them upon the foot of choice and respect. The following letters may place in the reader's view uneasinesses of this sort, which may perhaps be useful to some under the circumstances mentioned by my correspondents. I must confess a warmth against the buffooneries mentioned in the beginning of this paper, as they have so many circumstances to aggravate their guilt. A licence for a man to stand up in the schools of the prophets, in a grave decent habit, and audaciously vent his obloquies against the doctors of our church, and directors of our young nobility, gentry and clergy, in their hearing and before their eyes to throw calumnies upon poor defenceless women, and offend their ears with nauseous ribaldry, and name their names at length in a public theatre, when a queen is upon the throne: From a certain town in Cumberland, May 21. such a licence as this never yet gained ground in our playhouses; and I hope will not need a 'To Nestor Ironside, Esq. VENERABLE SIR, 'It is impossible to express the universal satisfaction your precautions give in a country so far north as ours; and indeed it were imAnthony Wood, author of th Athenæ Oxoniensis, a valuable collection of the lives of writers and bishops edu- pertinent to expatiate in a case that is by no cated at Oxford, 2 vols. folio, 1691. means particular to ourselves, all mankind, Р |