papers with which you daily both instruct and divert us, I earnestly desire you to print the following paper. The notions therein advanced are, for aught I know, new to the English reader, and if they are true, will afford room for many useful inferences. 'No man that reads the evangelists, but must observe that our blessed Saviour does upon every occasion bend all his force and zeal to rebuke and correct the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. Upon that subject he shows a warmth which one meets with in no other part of his sermons. They were so enraged at this public detection of their secret villanies, by one who saw through all their disguises, that they joined in the prosecution of him, which was so vigorous, that Pilate at last consented to his death. The frequency and vehemence of these representations of our Lord, have made the word Pharisee to be looked upon as odious among Christians, and to mean only one who lays the utmost stress upon the outward, ceremonial, and ritual part of his religion, without having such an inward sense of it, as would lead him to a general and sincere observance of those duties which can only arise from the heart, and which cannot be supposed to.spring from a desire of applause or profit. This is plain from the history of the life and actions of our Lord in the four evangelists. One of them, St. Luke, continued his history down in a second part, which we commonly call The Acts of the Apostles. Now it is observable, that in this second part, in which he gives a particular account of what the apostles did and suffered at Jerusalem upon their first entering upon their commission, and also of what St. Paul did after he was consecrated to the apostleship until his journey to Rome, we find not only no opposition to Christianity from the Pharisees, but several signal occasions in which they assisted its first teachers, when the Christian church was in its infant state. The true, zealous, and hearty persecutors of Christianity at that time were the Sadducees, whom we may truly call the free-thinkers among the Jews. They believed neither resurrection, nor angel, nor spirit, i. e. in plain English, they were deists at least, if not atheists. They could outwardly comply with, and conform to the establishment in church and state, and they pretended, forsooth, to belong only to a particular sect; and because there was nothing in the law of Moses which in so many words asserted a resurrection, they appeared to adhere to that in a particular manner beyond any other part of the old testament. These men, therefore, justly dreaded the spreading of Christianity after the ascension of our Lord, because it was wholly founded upon his resurrection. 'Accordingly, therefore, when Peter and John had cured the lame man at the beautiful gate of the temple, and had thereby raised a wonderful expectation of themselves among the people, the priests and Sadducees, (Acts iv.) clapt them up, and sent them away for the first time with a severe reprimand. Quickly after, when the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira, and the many miracles wrought after those severe instances of the apostolical power bad alarmed the priests, who looked upon the temple-worship, and consequently their bread, to be struck at; these priests, and all they that were with them, who were of the sect of the Sadducees, imprisoned the apostles, intending to examine them in the great council the next day. Where, when the council met, and the priests and Sadducees proposed to proceed with great rigour against them, we find that Gamaliel, a very eminent Pharisee, St. Paul's master, a man of great authority among the people, many of whose determinations we have still preserved in the body of the Jewish traditions, commonly called the Talmud, opposed their heat, and told them, for aught they knew, the apostles might be acted by the Spirit of God, and that in such a case it would be in vain to oppose them, since, if they did so, they would only fight against God, whom they could not overcome. Gamaliel was so considerable a man among his own sect, that we may reasonably believe he spoke the sense of his party as well as his own. St. Stephen's martyrdom came on presently after, in which we do not find the Pharisees, as such, had any hand; it is probable that he was prosecuted by those who had before imprisoned Peter and John. One novice indeed of that sect was so zealous, that he kept the clothes of those that stoned him. This novice, whose zeal went beyond all bounds, was the great St. Paul, who was peculiarly honoured with a call from heaven by which he was converted, and he was afterwards, by God himself, appointed to be the apostle of the Gentiles. Besides him, and him too reclaimed in so glorious a manner, we find no one Pharisee either named or hinted at by St. Luke, as an opposer of Christianity in those earliest days. What others might do we know not. But we find the Sadducees pursuing St. Paul even to death at his coming to Jerusalem, in the twenty-first of the Acts.. He then, upon all occasions, owned himself to be a Pharisee. In the twenty-second chapter he told the people, that he had been bred up at the feet of Gamaliel after the strictest manner, in the law of his fathers. In the twenty-third chapter he told the council that he was a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee, and that he was accused for asserting the hope and resurrection of the dead, which was their darling doctrine. Hereupon the Pharisees stood by him, and though they did not own our Saviour to be the Messiah, yet they would not deny but some angel or spirit might have spoken to him, and then if they opposed him, they should fight against God. This was the very argument Gamaliel had used before. The resurrection of our Lord, which they saw so strenuously asserted by the apostles, whose miracles they also saw and owned, (Acts iv. 16.) seems to have struck them, and many of them were converted (Acts xv. 5.) even without a miracle, and the rest stood still and made no opposition. 'We see here what the part was, which the Pharisees acted in this important conjuncture. Of the Sadducees, we meet not with one in the whole apostolic history that was converted. We hear of no miracles wrought to convince any of them, though there was an eminent one wrought to reclaim a Pharisee. St. Paul we see, after his conversion, always gloried in his having been bred a Pharisee. He did so to the people of Jerusalem, to the great council, to king Agrippa, and to the Philippians. So that from hence we may justly infer, that it was not their institution, which was in itself laudable, which our blessed Saviour found fault with, but it was their hypocrisy, their covetousness, their oppression, their overvaluing themselves upon their zeal for the ceremonial law, and their adding to that yoke by their traditions, all which were not properly essentials of their institution, that our Lord blamed. 'But I must not run on. What I would observe, sir, is that atheism is more dreadful, and would be more grievous to human society, if it were invested with sufficient power, than religion under any shape, where its professors do at the bottom believe what they profess. I despair not of a papist's conversion, though I would not willingly lie at a zealot papist's mercy, (and no protestant would, if he knew what popery is) though he truly believes in our Saviour. But the free-thinker, who scarcely believes there is a God, and certainly disbelieves revelation, is a very terrible animal. He will talk of natural rights, and the just freedoms of mankind, no longer than until he himself gets into power; and by the instance before us, we have small grounds to hope for his salvation, or that God will ever vouchsafe him sufficient grace to reclaim him from errors, which have been so immediately levelled against himself. IMITATED. The man, who stretch'd in Isis' calm retreat, To books and study gives seven years complete, See! strow'd with learned dust, his night-cap on, He walks, an object new beneath the sun! The boys flock round him, and the people stare; So stiff, so mute! some statue, you would swear, Stept from its pedestal to take the air? Pope. SINCE our success in worldly matters may be said to depend upon our education, it will be very much to the purpose to inquire if the foundations of our fortune could not be laid deeper and surer than they are. The education of youth falls of necessity under the direction of those who, through fondness to us and our abilities, as well as to their own unwarrantable conjectures, are very likely to be deceived; and the misery of it is, that the poor creatures, who are the sufferers upon wrong advances, seldom find out the errors, until they become irretrievable. As the greater number of all degrees and conditions have their education at the universities, the errors which I conceive to be in those places, fall most naturally under the following observation. The first mismanagement in these public nurseries, is the calling together a number of pupils, of howsoever different ages, views, and capacities, to the same lectures: but surely there can be no reason to think, that a delicate tender babe, just weaned from the bosom of his mother, indulged in all the impertinencies of his heart's desire, should be equally capable of receiving a lecture of philosophy, with a hardy ruffian of full age, who has been occasionally scourged through some of the great schools, groaned under constant rebuke and chastisement, and maintained a ten years' war with lite ature, under very strict and tugged discipline. I know the reader has pleased himself with an answer to this already, viz. That an attention to the particular abilities and designs of the pupil cannot be expected from the trifling salary paid upon such account. The price, indeed, which is thought a sufficient reward for any advantages a youth can receive from a man of learning, is an abominable consideration; the enlarging which would not only increase the care of tutors, but would be a very great encouragement to such as designed to take this province upon them, to furnish themselves with a more general and extensive knowpub-ledge. As the case now stands, those of the first quality pay their tutors but little above half so much as they do their footmen: what morality, what history, what taste of the modern languages, what lastly, that can make a man happy or great, may not be expected in return for such an immense treasure! It is monstrous, indeed, that the men of the best estates and families, are more solicitous about the tutelage of a favourite dog or horse, than of their heirs male. The next evil is the pe dantical veneration that is maintained at the 'If these notions be true, as I verily believe they are, I thought they might be worth lishing at this time, for which reason they are sent in this manner to you by, Sir, Your most humble servant, 'M. N.' No. 94.] Monday, June 29, 1713. Hor. Lib. 2. Ep. ii. 81. T university for the Greek and Latin, which puts it to one more substantial. The more accom the youth upon such exercises as many of them are incapable of performing with any tolerable success. Upon this emergency they are succoured by the allowed wits of their respective colleges, who are always ready to befriend them with two or three hundred Latin or Greek words thrown together, with a very small proportion of sense. plishments a man is master of, the better is he prepared for a more extended acquaintance, and upon these considerations, without doubt, the author of the Italian book called II Cortegiano, or The Courtier, makes throwing the bar, vaulting the horse, nay even wrestling, with several other as low qualifications, necessary for the man whom he figures for a perfect courtier; for this reason no doubt, because his end being to find grace in the eyes of men of all degrees, the means to pursue this end, was the furnishing him with such real and seeming excellencies as each degree had its particular taste of. But those of the university, instead of employing their leisure hours in the pursuit of such acquisitions as would shorten their way to better fortune, enjoy those moments at certain houses in the town, or repair to others at very pretty distances out of it, where they drink and forget their poverty, and remember their misery no more.' Persons of this indigent education are apt to pass upon themselves and others for modest, especially in the point of behaviour; though it is easy to prove, that this mistaken modesty not only arises from ignorance, but begets the appearance of its opposite, pride. For he that is conscious of his own insufficiency to address his superiors without appearing ridiculous, is by that betrayed into the same neglect and indifference towards them, which may bear the construction of pride. From this habit they begin to argue against the base submissive application But the most established error of our university education, is the general neglect of all the little qualifications and accomplishments which make up the character of a well-bred man, and the general attention to what is called deep learning. But as there are very few blessed with a genius that shall force success by the strength of itself alone, and few occasions of life that require the aid of such genius; the vast majority of the unblessed souls ought to store themselves with such acquisitions, in which every man has capacity to make a considerable progress, and from which every common occasion of life may reap great advantage. The persons that may be useful to us in the making our fortunes, are such as are already happy in their own; I may proceed to say, that the men of figure and family are more superficial in their education, than those of a less degree, and of course, are ready to encourage and protect that qualification in another, which they themselves are masters of. For their own application implies the pursuit of something commendable; and when they see their own characters proposed as imitable, they must be won by such an irresistible flat-from men of letters to men of fortune, and be tery. But those of the university, who are to make their fortunes by a ready insinuation into the favour of their superiors, contemn this necessary foppery so far, as not to be able to speak common sense to them without hesitation, perplexity, and confusion. For want of care in acquiring less accomplishments which adorn ordinary life, he that is so unhappy as to be born poor, is condemned to a method that will very probably keep him so. I hope all the learned will forgive me what is said purely for their service, and tends to no other injury against them, than admonishing them not to overlook such little qualifications as they every day see defeat their greater excellencies in the pursuit both of reputation and fortune. If the youth of the university were to be advanced according to their sufficiency in the severe progress of learning; or 'riches could be secured to men of understanding, and favour to men of skill;' then indeed all studies were solemnly to be defied, that did not seriously pursue the main end; but since our merit is to be tried by the unskilful many, we must gratify the sense of the injudicious majority, satisfying ourselves that the shame of a trivial qualification sticks only upon him that prefers grieved when they see, as Ben Jonson says, The learned pate though these are points of necessity and convenience, and to be esteemed submissions rather to the occasion than to the person. It was a fine answer of Diogenes, who being asked in mockery, why philosophers were the followers of rich men, and not rich men of philosophers, replied,' Because the one knew what they had need of, and the other did not.' It cer tainly must be difficult to prove, that a man of business, or a profession, ought not to be what we call a gentleman, but yet very few of them are so. Upon this account they have little conversation with those who might do them most service, but upon such occasions only as application is made to them in their particular calling; and for any thing they can do or say in such matters have their reward, and therefore rather receive than confer an obligation; whereas he that adds his being agreeable to his being serviceable, is constantly in a capacity of obliging others. The character of a beau is, I think, what the men that pretend to learning please themselves in ridiculing: and yet if we compare these persons as we see them in public, we shall find that the lettered cox- 'SIR, also destroyed the world, the sun, and moon, which lay loose in the waggon. Mrs. Bartlett is frightened out of her wits, for Purville says he has her servant's receipt for the world, and expects she shall make it good. Purville is resolved to take no lodgings in town, but makes, behind the scenes, a bed chamber of the hamper. His bed is that in which Desdemona is to die, and he uses the sheet (in which Mr. Johnson is tied up in a comedy,) for his own bed of nights. It is to be hoped the great ones will consider Mr. Purville's loss. One of the robbers has sent, by a country fellow, the stock-gold, and had the impudence to write the following letter to Mr. Purville. There are many things in this matter which employ the ablest men here, as whether an action will lie for the world among people who make the most of words? or whether it be adviseable to call that round ball the world, and if we do not call it so, whether we can have any remedy? the ablest lawyer here says there is no help; for if you call it the world, it will be answered, How could the world be in one shire, to wit, that of Buckingham; for the county must be nained, and if you do not name it, we shall certainly be nonsuited. I de not know whether I make myself understood; but you understand me right when you believe I am 'Your most humble servant, ' and faithful correspondent, HONOURED SIR, THE PROMPTER.' Your character of Guardian makes it not only necessary, but becoming, to have several employed under you. And being myself ambitious of your service, I am now your humble petitioner to be admitted into a place I do not find yet disposed of—I mean that of your lioncatcher. It was, sir, for want of such commission from your honour, very many lions have lately escaped. However, I made bold to distinguish a couple. One I found in a coffee house-He was of the larger sort, looked fierce, and roared loud. I considered Oxford, June 24, 1713. 'This day Mr. Oliver Purville, gentleman, property-man to the theatre royal in the room of Mr. William Peer, deceased, arrived here in widow Bartlett's waggon. He is a humble member of the Little Club, and a passionate man, which makes him tell the disasters which he met with on his road hither, a little too incoherently to be rightly understood. By what I can gather from him, it seems that within three miles of this side Wickham, the party was set upon by highwaymen. Mr. Purville was supercargo to the great hamper in which were the following goods. The chains of Jaffier and Pierre; the crowns and sceptres of the posterity of Banquo; the bull, bear, and horse of captain Otter; bones, skulls, pickaxes, and a bottle of brandy, and five muskets; four-wherein he was dangerous; and accordingly score pieces of stock-gold, and thirty pieces of tin-silver, hid in a green purse within a skull. These the robbers, by being put up safe, supposed to be true, and rid off with, not forget-lion, who was slipping by me as I stood at the ting to take Mr. Purville's own current coin. They broke the armour of Jacomo, which was cased up in the same hamper, and one of them put on the said Jacomo's mask to escape. They also did several extravagancies with no other purpose but to do mischief; they broke a mace for the lord mayor of London. They expressed my displeasure against him, in such a manner upon his chaps, that now he is not able to show his teeth. The other was a small corner of an alley-I smelt the creature presently, and catched at him, but he got off with the loss of a lock of hair only, which proved of a dark colour. This and the teeth abovementioned I have by me, and design them both for a present to Button's coffee-house. Besides this way of dealing with them, I SIR, Tom's Coffee-house, in Cornhill, June 19, 1713. • FRIEND NESTOR, Oxford, June 18, 1713. 'I had always a great value for thee, and have so still: but I must tell thee, that thou strangely affectest to be sage and solid: now pr'ythee let me observe to thee, that though it be common enough for people as they grow older to grow graver, yet it is not so common to become wiser. Verily to me thou seemest to keep strange company, and with a positive sufficiency, incident to old age, to follow too much thine own inventions. Thou dependest too much, likewise, upon thy correspondence here, and art apt to take people's words withwith thee is to expostulate with thee about a out consideration. But my present business late paper, occasioned, as thou say'st, by Jack Lizard's information, (my very good friend) that we are to have a public act. 'Now, I say, in that paper, there is nothing contended for which any man of common sense will deny; all that is there said, is, that no man or woman's reputation ought to be blasted, 'Reading in your yesterday's paper a letter from Daniel Button, in recommendation of his coffee-house for polite conversation and freedom from the argument by the button, I make bold to send you this to assure you, that at this place there is as yet kept up as good a decorum in the debates of politics, trade, stocks, &c. as at Will's, or at any other coffee-.e, nobody ought to have an ill character house at your end of the town. In order, therefore, to preserve this house from the arbitrary way of forcing an assent, by seizing on the collar, neckcloth, or any other part of the body or dress, it would be of signal service if you would be pleased to intimate, that we, who frequent this place after Exchange-time, shall have the honour of seeing you here sometimes; for that would be a sufficient guard to us from all such petty practices, and also be a means of enabling the honest man, who keeps the house, to continue to serve us with the best bohea and green tea, and coffee, and will in a particular manner oblige, who does not deserve it. Very true; but here's this false consequence insinuated, that therefore nobody ought to hear of their faults; or, in other words, let any body do as much ill as he pleases, he ought not to be told of it. Art affirm, that arbitrary proceedings and oppres thou a patriot, Mr. Ironside, and wilt thou sion ought to be concealed or justified? Art thou a gentleman, and would'st thou have base, sordid, ignoble tricks connived at, or tolerated? Art thou a scholar and would st thou have learning and good manners discouraged? Would'st thou have cringing servility, parasitical shuffling, fawning, and dishonest compliances, made the road to success? Art thou a Christian, and would'st thou have all villanies within the law practised with impu'P. S. The room above stairs is the hand-nity? Should they not be told of it? It is cersomest in this part of the town, furnished with large pier glasses for persons to view themselves in, who have no business with any body else, and every way fit for the reception of fine gentlemen.' 'Sir, your most humble servant, SIR, JAMES DIAPER. tain, there are many things which, though there are no laws against them, yet ought not to be done; and in such cases there is no argument so likely to hinder their being done, as the fear of public shame for doing them. The two great reasons against an act are I am a very great scholar, wear a fair wig, always, the saving of money, and hiding of and have an immense number of books curi. ously bound and gilt. I excel in a singularity of diction and manners, and visit persons of the first quality. In fine, I have by me a great quantity of cockle-shells, which, however, does not defend me from the insults of another learned man who neglects me in a most insupportable manner: for I have it from persons of undoubted veracity, that he presumed once to pass by my door without waiting upon me. Whether this be consistent with the respect which we learned men ought to have for each other, I leave to your judgment, and am, Sir, your affectionate friend, PHILAUTUS. roguery. Here many things are omitted which will be in the speech of the Terræ filius." And now, dear Old Iron, I am glad to hear that at these years thou hast gallantry enough left to have thoughts of setting up for a knighterrant, a tamer of monsters, and a defeuder of distrest damsels. Adieu, old fellow, and let me give thee this advice at parting; E'en get thyself case-hardened; for though the very best steel may snap, yet old iron you know will rust. Be just, and publish this. UMBRA. |