wretches of short views and narrow capacities, who are not able to penetrate into the causes or consequences of things. N° 63. SATURDAY, MAY 23, 1713. Ζευ πάτερ, ἀλλὰ σὲ ῥῦσαι ὑπ' ἠέρω υἱας Αχαιών HOM. II. xvii. 645. O King! O Father! hear my humble prayer : POPE. I AM obliged, for many reasons, to insert this first letter, though it takes me out of my way, especially on a Saturday; but the ribaldry of some part of that will be abundantly made up by the quotation in the second. SIR, TO NESTOR IRONSIDE, ESQ. Friday, May 22, 1713. THE Examiner of this day consists of reflections upon the letter I writ to you, published in yours of the twelfth instant. The sentence upon which he spends most of his invectives, is this, "I will give myself no manner of liberty to make guesses at him, if I may say him;' for though sometimes I have been told by familiar friends, that they saw me such a time talking to the Examiner others, who have rallied me upon the sins of my youth, tell me it is credibly reported that I have formerly lain with the Examiner." Now, Mr. Ironside, what was there in all this but saying, "I cannot tell what to do in this case. There has been named for this paper one, for whom I have a value,* and another whom I cannot but neglect?" I have named no man, but if there be any gentleman, who wrongfully lies under the imputation of being or assisting the Examiner, he would do well to do himself justice, under his own hand, in the eye of the world. As to the exasperated mistress,† the Examiner demands in her behalf, a "reparation for offended innocence." This is pleasant language, when spoken of this person; he wants to have me unsay what he makes me to have said before. I declare then it was a false report, which was spread concerning me and a lady, sometimes reputed the author of the Examiner; and I can now make her no reparation, but in begging her pardon, that I never lay with her. 'I speak all this only in regard to the Examiner's offended innocence, and will make no reply as to what relates merely to myself. "I have said before he is welcome from henceforward, to treat me as he pleases." But the bit of Greek, which I intreat you to put at the front of to-morrow's paper, speaks all my sense on this occasion. It is a speech put in the mouth of Ajax, who is engaged in the dark: He cries out to Jupiter, "Give me but daylight, let me but see my foe, and let him destroy me if he can." 'But when he repeats his story of the "general for life," I cannot hear him with so much patience. He may insinuate what he pleases to the ministry of me; but I am sure I could not, if I would, by detraction, do them more injury, than he does * Dr. Swift. † Mrs. D. Manley! by his ill-placed, ignorant, nauseous flattery. One of them, whose talent is address, and skill in the world, he calls Cato; another, whose praise is conversation-wit and a taste of pleasures, is also Cato.* Can any thing in nature be more out of character, or more expose those, whom he would recommend to the raillery of his adversaries, than comparing these to Cato? But gentlemen of their eminence are to be treated with respect, and not to suffer because a sycophant has applauded them in a wrong place. Till 'As much as he says I am in defiance with those in present power, I will lay before them one point that would do them more honour than any one circumstance in their whole administration; which is, to shew their resentment of the Examiner's nauseous applause of themselves, and licentious calumny of their predecessors. they do themselves that justice, men of sense will believe they are pleased with the adulation. of a prostitute, who heaps upon them injudicious applauses, for which he makes way, by random abuse upon those who are in present possession of all that is laudable, SIR, I am, Sir, your most humble servant, 'TO MR. IRONSIDE. A MIND SO well qualified as yours, must receive every day large improvements, when exercised upon such truths which are the glory of our natures; such as those which lead us to an * See Examiner, Vol. III. No. 47, in folio, Harley and Bolingbroke. endless happiness in our life succeeding this. I herewith send you Dr. Lucas's Practical Christianity, for your serious perusal. If you have already read it, I desire you would give it to one of your friends who has not. I think you cannot recommend it better than in inserting, by way of specimen these passages, which I point to you, as follows. That I have, in this state I am now in, a soul as well as a body, whose interest concerns me, is a truth my sense sufficiently discovers : For I feel joys and sorrows, which do not make their abode in the organs of the body, but in the inmost recesses of the mind; pains and pleasures which sense is too gross and heavy to partake of, as the peace or trouble of conscience in the reflection upon good or evil actions, the delight or vexation of the mind, in the contemplation of, or a fruitless enquiry after, excellent and important truths. And since I have such a soul capable of happiness or misery, it naturally follows, that it were sottish and unreasonable to lose this soul for the gain of the whole world. For my soul' is I myself, and if that be miserable, I must needs be so. Outward circumstances of fortune may give the world occasion to think me happy, but they can never make me so. Shall I call myself happy, if discontent and sorrow eat out the life and spirit of my soul? if lusts and passions riot and mutiny in my bosom? if my sins scatter an un, easy shame all over me, and my guilt appals and frights me? What avails it me, that my rooms are stately, my tables full, my attendants numerous, and my attire gaudy, if all this while my very being pines and languishes away? These indeed are rich and pleasant things, but I never. theless am a poor and miserable man. Therefore I conclude, that whatever this thing be I call a soul, though it were a perishing, dying thing, and would not out-live the body, yet it were my wisdom and interest to prefer its content and satisfaction before all the world, unless I could, chuse to be miserable, and delight to be unhappy. This very consideration, supposing the uncertainty of another world, would yet strongly engage me to the service of religion; for all it aims at, is to banish sin out of the world, which is the source and original of all the troubles that disquiet the the mind; 1. Sin, in its very essence, is nothing else but disordered, distempered passions, affections foolish and preposterous in their choice, or wild and extravagant in their proportion, which our own experience sufficiently convinces us to be painful and uneasy. 2. It engages us in desperate hazards, wearies us with daily toils, and often buries us in the ruins we bring upon ourselves; and lastly, it fills our hearts with distrust, and fear, and shame; for we shall never be able to persuade ourselves fully, that there is no difference between good and evil; that there is no God, or none that concerns himself at the actions of this life: and if we cannot, we can never rid ourselves of the pangs and stings of a troubled conscience; we shall never be able to establish a peace and calm in our bosoms; and so enjoy our pleasure with a clear and uninterrupted freedom. But if we could persuade ourselves into the utmost height of atheism, yet still we shall be under these two strange inconveniences: 1. That a life of sin will be still irregular and disorderly, and therefore troublesome: 2. That we shall have dismantled our souls of their greatest strength, and disarmed them of that faith |