it accompanies; like the shades in paintings, a serious discourse, and would scarce be
it raises and rounds every figure, and makes
the colours more beautiful, though not so
glaring as they would be without it.
Modesty is not only an ornament, but also
a guard to virtue. It is a kind of quick and
delicate feeling in the soul; which makes
her shrink and withdraw herself from every
thing that has danger in it. It is such an
exquisite sensibility, as warns her to shun
the first appearance of every thing which
is hurtful.

able to show his head, after having dis-
closed a religious thought. Decency of be-
haviour, all outward show of virtue, and
abhorrence of vice, are carefully avoided
by this set of shamed-faced people, as what
would disparage their gayety of temper, and
infallibly bring them to dishonour. This is
such a poorness of spirit, such a despicable
cowardice, such a degenerate abject state
of mind, as one would think human nature
incapable of, did we not meet with frequent
instances of it in ordinary conversation.

I cannot at present_recollect either the
place or time of what I am going to men- There is another kind of vicious modesty
tion; but I have read somewhere in the which makes a man ashamed of his person,
history of ancient Greece, that the women his birth, his profession, his poverty, or the
of the country were seized with an un- like misfortunes, which it was not his choice
accountable melancholy, which disposed to prevent, and is not in his power to rectify.
several of them to make away with them- If a man appears ridiculous by any of the
selves. The senate, after having tried afore-mentioned circumstances, he becomes
many expedients to prevent this self-mur- much more so by being out of countenance
der, which was so frequent among them, for them. They should rather give him
published an edict, that if any woman occasion to exert a noble spirit, and to pal-
whatever should lay violent hands upon liate those imperfections which are not in
herself, her corpse should be exposed his power, by those perfections which are;
naked in the street, and dragged about the or to use a very witty allusion of an eminent
city in the most public manner. This edict author, he should imitate Cæsar, who, be-
immediately put a stop to the practice cause his head was bald, covered that de-
which was before so common. We may fect with laurels.

see in this instance the strength of female

modesty, which was able to overcome the

C.

violence even of madness and despair. The No. 232.] Monday, November 26, 1711. fear of shame in the fair sex, was in those

days more prevalent than that of death.

is shameless?

Nihil largiundo gloriam adeptus est.

If modesty has so great an influence over Sallust. Bell. Cat. our actions, and is in many cases so impreg By bestowing nothing he acquired glory. nable a fence to virtue; what can more un- My wise and good friend, Sir Andrew dermine morality than that politeness which Freeport, divides himself almost equally reigns among the unthinking part of man-between the town and the country. His time kind, and treats as unfashionable the most in town is given up to the public, and the ingenuous part of our behaviour; which re- management of his private fortune; and after commends impudence as good-breeding, every three or four days spent in this manand keeps a man always in countenance, ner, he retires for as many to his seat within not because he is innocent, but because he a few miles of the town, to the enjoyment of himself, his family, and his friend. Thus Seneca thought modesty so great a check business and pleasure, or rather, in Sir Anovice, that he prescribes to us the prac- drew, labour and rest, recommend each ice of it in secret, and advises us to raise it other. They take their turns with so quick ourselves upon imaginary occasions, when a vicissitude, that neither becomes a habit, uch as are real do not offer themselves; for or takes possession of the whole man; nor his is the meaning of his precept, That is it possible he should be surfeited with when we are by ourselves, and in our great- either. I often see him at our club in good est solitudes, we should fancy that Cato humour, and yet sometimes too with an air tands before us and sees every thing we of care in his looks: but in his country re10. In short, if you banish Modesty out of treat he is always unbent, and such a comhe world, she carries away with her half panion as I could desire; and therefore I The virtue that is in it.

it

Sa virtue, I must observe, that there is a
After these reflections on modesty, as

seldom fail to make one with him when he

is

pleased to invite me.

The other day, as soon as we were got

two

diculed, and which those persons very each side hung upon the doors, and soliften

pon a well-bred confidence. This happens a sick wife or husband at home, three or hen a man is ashamed to act up to his four helpless little children all starving with ason, and would not upon any considera- cold and hunger. We were forced to part on be surprised at the practice of those with some money to get rid of their importies, for the performance of which he tunity; and then we proceeded on our jour as sent into the world. Many an impu-ney with the blessings and acclamations of ent libertine would blush to be caught in these people.

Well, then,' says Sir Andrew, we go resumed the discourse. It may seem,' says off with the prayers and good wishes of the he, a paradox, that the price of labour beggars, and perhaps too our healths will should be reduced without an abatement of be drunk at the next ale-house: so all we wages, or that wages can be abated without shall be able to value ourselves upon, is, any inconvenience to the labourer, and yet that we have promoted the trade of the vic- nothing is more certain than that both these tualler and the excises of the government. things may happen. The wages of the laBut how few ounces of wool do we see upon bourers make the greatest part of the price the backs of these poor creatures? And of every thing that is useful; and if in prowhen they shall next fall in our way, they portion with the wages the price of all other will hardly be better dressed; they must things should be abated, every labourer always live in rags to look like objects of with less wages would still be able to par compassion. If their families too are such chase as many necessaries of life; where as they are represented, it is certain they then would be the inconvenience? But the cannot be better clothed, and must be a price of labour may be reduced by the ad great deal worse fed. One would think dition of more hands to a manufacture, and potatoes should be all their bread, and their yet the wages of persons remain as high as drink the pure element; and then what ever. The admirable Sir William Petty goodly customers are the farmers like to has given examples of this in some of his have for their wool, corn, and cattle? Such writings: one of them, as I remember, is customers, and such a consumption, cannot that of a watch, which I shall endeavour to choose but advance the landed interest, and explain so as shall suit my present pur hold up the rents of the gentlemen. pose. It is certain that a single watch But of all men living, we merchants, could not be made so cheap in proportion who live by buying and selling, ought never by only one man, as a hundred watches by to encourage beggars. The goods which a hundred; for as there is a vast variety in we export are indeed the product of the the work, no one person could equally suit lands, but much the greater part of their himself to all the parts of it: the manufac value is the labour of the people: but how ture would be tedious, and at last but clummuch of these people's labour shall we ex-sily performed. But if a hundred watches port whilst we hire them to sit still? The were to be made by a hundred men, the very alms they receive from us are the cases may be assigned to one, the dials to wages of idleness. I have often thought another, the wheels to another, the springs that no man should be permitted to take to another, and every other part to a proper relief from the parish, or to ask it in the artist. As there would be no need of perstreet, until he has first purchased as much plexing any one person with too much va as possible of his own livelihood by the la- riety, every one would be able to perform bour of his own hands; and then the public his single part with greater skill and expe ought only to be taxed to make good the dition; and the hundred watches would be deficiency. If this rule was strictly ob-finished in one-fourth part of the time of served we should see every where such a the first one, and every one of them at onemultitude of new labourers, as would in all fourth part of the cost, though the wages probability, reduce the prices of all our manufactures. It is the very life of merchandise to buy cheap and sell dear. The merchant ought to make his outset as cheap as possible, that he may find the greater profit upon his returns; and nothing will enable him to do this like the reduction of the price of labour upon all our manufactures. This too would be the ready way to increase the number of our foreign markets. The abatement of the price of the manufacture would pay for the carriage of it to more distant countries; and this consequence would be equally beneficial both to the landed and trading interests. As so great an addition of labouring hands would produce this happy consequence both to the merchant and the gentleman, our liberality to common beggars, and every other obstruction to the increase of labourers, must be equally pernicious to both.'

Sir Andrew then went on to affirm, that the reduction of the prices of our manufactures by the addition of so many new hands, would be no inconvenience to any man; but observing I was something startled at the assertion, he made a short pause, and then

of every man were equal. The reduction of the price of the manufacture would in crease the demand of it, all the same hands would be still employed, and as well paid. The same rule will hold in the clothing, the shipping, and all other trades whatsoever. And thus an addition of hands to our manu factures will only reduce the price of them; the labourer will still have as much wages, and will consequently be enabled to purchase more conveniences of life, so that every in terest in the nation would receive a benefit from the increase of our working people.

'Besides I see no occasion for this cha rity to common beggars, since every beggar is an inhabitant of a parish, and every pa rish is taxed to the maintenance of their own poor. For my own part I cannot be mightily pleased with the laws which have done this, which have provided better to feed than employ the poor. We have a tradition from our forefathers, that after the first of those laws was made, they were insulted with that famous song:

Hang sorrow and cast away care,
The parish is bound to find us, &c.

And if we will be so good-natured as to

WINLESITY OF COLORED LEDA

maintain them without work, they can do o less in return than sing us "The mérry Beggars.

وو

This account is very dry in many parts, as only mentioning the name of the lover who leaped, the person he leaped for, and relating in short, that he was either cured, or killed, or maimed by the fall. It indeed gives the names of so many who died by it, that it would have looked like a bill of mortality, had I translated it at full length; I have therefore made an abridgment of it, and only extracted such particular passages as have something extraordinary, either in the case or in the cure, or in the fate of the person who is mentioned in it. After this short preface take the account as follows:

What then? Am I against all acts of harity? God forbid! I know of no virtue the gospel that is in more pathetic expressions recommended to our practice. "I was hungry and ye gave me no meat, hirsty and ye gave me no drink, naked and e clothed me not, a stranger and ye took me not in, sick and in prison and ye visited me not." Our blessed Saviour treats the xercise or neglect of charity towards a oor man, as the performance or breach of his duty towards himself. I shall endeaour to obey the will of my lord and master: nd therefore if an industrious man shall ubmit to the hardest labour and coarsest are, rather than endure the shame of aking relief from the parish, or asking it the street, that is the hungry, the thirsty, he naked; and I ought to believe, if any Cynisca, the wife of Eschines, being in nan is come hither for shelter against per- love with Lycus; and Eschines her husecution or oppression, this is the stranger, band being in love with Eurilla; (which had nd I ought to take him in. If any country-made this married couple very uneasy to nan of our own is fallen into the hands of one another for several years) both the nfidels, and lives in a state of miserable husband and the wife took the leap by conaptivity, this is the man in prison, and I sent; they both of them escaped, and have hould contribute to his ransom. I ought lived very happily together ever since. o give to an hospital of invalids, to recover s many useful subjects as I can: but I shall estow none of my bounties upon an almshouse of idle people; and for the same reaon I should not think it a reproach to me I had withheld my charity from those Common beggars. But we prescribe better ules than we are able to practise; we are shamed not to give into the mistaken maners of our country: but at the same time, cannot but think it a reproach worse than hat of common swearing, that the idle and The abandoned are suffered in the name of eaven and all that is sacred to extort from christian and tender minds a supply to a profligate way of life, that is always to be upported, but never relieved.'

Battus, the son of Menalcas the Sicilian, leaped for Bombyca the musician: got rid of his passion with the loss of his right leg and arm, which were broken in the fall.

Melissa, in love with Daphnis, very much bruised, but escaped with life.

Z.

Larissa, a virgin of Thessaly, deserted by Plexippus, after a courtship of three years; she stood upon the brow of the promontory for some time, and after having thrown down a ring, a bracelet, and a little picture, with other presents which she had received from Plexippus, she threw herself into the sea, and was taken up alive.

N. B. Larissa before she leaped made an offering of a silver Cupid in the temple of Apollo.

Simatha, in love with Daphnis the Myndian; perished in the fall.

Charixus, the brother of Sappho, in love with Rhodope the courtesan, having spent his whole estate upon her, was advised by his sister to leap in the beginning of his amour, but would not hearken to her until he was reduced to his last talent; being forNo. 233.] Tuesday, November 27, 1711. saken by Rhodope, at length resolved to

Tanquam hæc sint nostri medicina furoris
Aut deus ille malis hominum mitescere discat.
Virg. Ecl. x. v. 60.

As if by these, my sufferings I could ease;
Or by my pains the god of love appease.-Dryden.
ISHALL in this paper discharge myself
f the promise I have made to the public,
y obliging them with a translation of the
ttle Greek manuscript, which is said to
ave been a piece of those records that
ere preserved in the temple of Apollo,
pon the promontory of Leucate. It is a
hort history of the Lover's Leap, and is
scribed, An account of persons, male
nd female, who offered up their vows in
e temple of the Pythian Apollo in the
ty-sixth Olympiad, and leaped from the
romontory of Leucate into the Ionian Sea,
order to cure themselves of the passion

E love.'

take the leap. Perished in it.

Arideus, a beautiful youth of Epirus, in love with Praxinoe, the wife of Thespis; escaped without damage, saving only that two of his fore-teeth were struck out and

his nose a little flatted.

Cleora, a widow of Ephesus, being inconsolable for the death of her husband, was resolved to take this leap in order to get rid of her passion for his memory; but being arrived at the promontory, she there met with Dimachus the Milesian, and after a short conversation with him, laid aside the thoughts of her leap, and married him in the temple of Apollo.

N. B. Her widow's weeds are still seen hanging up in the western corner of the temple.

Olphis, the fisherman, having received a box on the ear from Thestylis the day be

fore, and being determined to have no more | Sappho, arrived at the promontory of Leu-
to do with her, leaped, and escaped with
life.
Atalanta, an old maid, whose cruelty had
several years before driven two or three
despairing lovers to this leap; being now in
the fifty-fifth year of her age, and in love
with an officer of Sparta, broke her neck in
the fall.

Hipparchus, being passionately fond of
his own wife, who was enamoured of Ba-
thyllus, leaped, and died of his fall; upon
which his wife married her gallant.

Tettyx, the dancing-master, in love with Olympia, an Athenian matron, threw himself from the rock with great agility, but was crippled in the fall.

Diagoras, the usurer, in love with his cook-maid; he peeped several times over the precipice: but his heart misgiving him, he went back and married her that evening.

cate that very evening, in order to take the
leap upon her account: but hearing that
Sappho had been there before him, and
that her body could be no where found, he
very generously lamented her fall, and is
said to have written his hundred and twen
ty-fifth ode upon that occasion.
Leaped in this Olympiad.
Males
Females

C.

Males
Females

Cured.

124

126

250

51

69

120

Cinædus, after having entered his own No. 234.] Wednesday, November 28, 1711.

name in the Pythian records, being asked
the name of the person whom he leaped
for, and being ashamed to discover it, he was
set aside, and not suffered to leap.

Eunicia, a maid of Paphos, aged nine-
teen, in love with Eurybates. Hurt in the
fall but recovered.

N. B. This was the second time of her leaping.

Hesperus, a young man of Tarentum, in love with his master's daughter. Drowned, the boats not coming in soon enough to his relief.

Sappho the Lesbian, in love with Phaon, arrived at the temple of Apollo habited like a bride in garments as white as snow. She wore a garland of myrtle on her head, and carried in her hand the little musical instrument of her own invention. After having sung an hymn to Apollo, she hung up her garland on one side of his altar, and her harp on the other. She then tucked up her vestments like a Spartan virgin, and amidst thousands of spectators, who were anxious for her safety, and offered up vows for her deliverance, marched directly forwards to the utmost summit of the promontory, where after having repeated a stanza of her own verses, which we could not hear, she threw herself off the rock with such an intrepidity as was never before observed in any who had attempted that dangerous leap. Many who were present related, that they saw her fall into the sea, from whence she never rose again; though there were others who affirmed that she never came to the bottom of her leap, but that she was changed into a swan as she fell, and that they saw her hovering in the air under that shape. But whether or no the whiteness and fluttering of her garments might not deceive those who looked upon her, or whether she might not really be metamorphosed into that musical and melancholy bird, is still a doubt among the Lesbians. Alcaus, the famous lyric poet, who had for some time been passionately in love with

Vellem in amicitia sic erraremus.

Hor. Lib. 1. Sat. iii. 41. I wish this error in your friendship reign'd.

Creach

both

You very often hear people, after a story has been told with some entertaining cir cumstances, tell it over again with par ticulars that destroy the jest, but give light into the truth of the narration. This sort of veracity, though it is impertinent, has something amiable in it, because it proceeds from the love of truth even in frivolous occasions. If such honest amendments do not promise an agreeable companion, they do a sincere friend; for which reason one should allow them so much of our time, if we fall into their company, as to set us right in matters that can do us no manner of harm, whether the facts be one way or the other. Lies which are told out of arrogance and ostentation, a man should de tect in his own defence, because he should not be triumphed over. Lies which are told out of malice he should expose, for his own sake and that of the rest of mankind, because every man should rise against a common enemy: but the officious liar, many have argued, is to be excused, because it does some man good, and no man hurt. The man who made more than or dinary speed from a fight in which the Athenians were beaten, and told them they had obtained a complete victory, and put the whole city into the utmost joy and ex ultation, was checked by the magistrate for this falsehood; but excused himself by saying, 'O Athenians! am I your enem because I gave you two happy days? Thi fellow did to a whole people what an ac quaintance of mine does every day he lives in some eminent degree, to particular per sons. He is ever lying people into goo humour, and as Plato said it was allowabl in physicians to lie to their patients to keep up their spirits, I am half doubtful whethe my friend's behaviour is not as excusable His manner is to express himself surprise

at the cheerful countenance of a man whom | hood two days ago one of your gay gentlemen e observes diffident of himself; and gene- of the town, who being attended at his entry ally by that means make his lie a truth. with a servant of his own, besides a counHe will, as if he did not know any thing of tryman he had taken up for a guide, exhe circumstance, ask one whom he knows cited the curiosity of the village to learn t variance with another, what is the mean- whence and what he might be. The counng that Mr. Such-a-one, naming his ad- tryman (to whom they applied as most versary, does not applaud him with that easy of access) knew little more than that heartiness which formerly he has heard the gentleman came from London to travel im? He said, indeed,' continues he, 'I and see fashions, and was, as he heard say, would rather have that man for my friend a free-thinker. What religion that might han any man in England; but for an ene- be, he could not tell: and for his own part, ny!-This melts the person he talks if they had not told him the man was a o, who expected nothing but downwright free-thinker, he should have guessed, by aillery from that side. According as he his way of talking, he was little better ees his practice succeed, he goes to the than a heathen; excepting only that he had pposite party, and tells him, he cannot been a good gentleman to him, and made magine how it happens that some people him drunk twice in one day, over and above now one another so little; 'You spoke what they had bargained for. rith so much coldness of a gentleman who 'I do not look upon the simplicity of this, aid more good of you, than, let me tell and several odd inquiries with which I shall ou, any man living deserves.' The suc- not trouble you, to be wondered at, much ess of one of these incidents was, that the less can I think that our youths of fine ext time one of the adversaries spied the wit, and enlarged understandings, have any ther, he hems after him in the public reason to laugh. There is no necessity treet, and they must crack a bottle at the that every 'squire in Great Britain should ext tavern, that used to turn out of the know what the word free-thinker stands for; ther's way to avoid one another's eye-but it were much to be wished, that they hot. He will tell one beauty she was com- who value themselves upon that conceited mended by another, nay, he will say she title, were a little better instructed in what ave the woman he speaks to, the prefer- it ought to stand for; and that they would ence in a particular for which she herself not persuade themselves a man is really admired. The pleasantest confusion ima- and truly a free-thinker, in any tolerable inable is made through the whole town by sense, merely by virtue of his being an ay friend's indirect offices. You shall have atheist, or an infidel of any other distincvisit returned after half a year's absence, tion. It may be doubted with good reason, nd mutual railing at each other every whether there ever was in nature a more ablay of that time. They meet with a thou-ject, slavish, and bigoted generation than and lamentations for so long a separation, the tribe of beaux-esprits, at present so ach party naming herself for the greatest prevailing in this island. Their pretension lelinquent, if the other can possibly be so to be free-thinkers, is no other than rakes good as to forgive her, which she has no have to be free-livers, and savages to be eason in the world, but from the know- free-men; that is, they can think whatever edge of her goodness, to hope for. Very they have a mind to, and give themselves ften a whole train of railers of each side up to whatever conceit the extravagancy ire their horses in setting matters right of their inclination, or their fancy, shall hich they have said during the war be- suggest; they can think as wildly as they ween the parties; and a whole circle of talk and act, and will not endure that their cquaintances are put into a thousand wit should be controlled by such formal pleasing passions and sentiments, instead of things as decency and common sense. Deanger, envy, detraction, and duction, coherence, consistency, and all the rules of reason they accordingly disdain, as too precise and mechanical for men of a liberal education.

of

he pangs nalice. The worst evil I ever observed this man's alsehood occasion, has been, that he turned letraction into flattery. He is well skilled 'This as far as I could ever learn from n the manners of the world, and by over-their writings, or my own observation, is a ooking what men really are, he grounds true account of the British free-thinker. is artifices upon what they have a mind Our visitant here, who gave occasion to o be. Upon this foundation, if two distant this paper, has brought with him a new riends are brought together and the cement system of common sense, the particulars eems to be weak, he never rests until of which I am not yet acquainted with, but e finds new appearances to take off all will lose no opportunity of informing myemains of ill-will, and that by new mis- self whether it contains any thing worth nderstandings they are thoroughly recon- Mr. Spectator's notice. In the mean time, sir, I cannot but think it would be for the To the Spectator. good of mankind, if you would take this subject into your consideration, and con'Devonshire, Nov. 14, 1711. vince the hopeful youth of our nation, that SIR-There arrived in this neighbour-licentiousness is not freedom; or, if such a

iled.