. You LETTER III. To Mr. STEELE. July 15, 1712. OU formerly obferv'd to me that nothing made a more ridiculous figure in a man's life, than the disparity we often find in him fick and well; thus one of an unfortunate conftitution is perpetually exhibiting a miserable example of the weakness of his mind, and of his body, in their turns. I have had frequent opportunities of late to confider myself in these different views, and, I hope, have receiv'd fome advantage by it, if what Waller fays be true, that The foul's dark cɛttage, ba:ter'd and decay'd, Lets in new Light thro' chinks that time has made. Then furely ficknefs, contributing no less than old age to the shaking down this fcaffolding of the body, may discover the inward structure more plainly. Sickness is a fort of early old age; it teaches us a diffidence in our earthly ftate, and infpires us with the thoughts of a future, better than a thousand volumes of philofophers and divines. It gives fo warning a concuffion to those props of our vanity, our ftrength and youth, that we think of fortifying ourselves within, when there is fo little dependance upon our out-works. Youth at the very best is but a betrayer of human life in a gentler and smoother manner than age: 'tis like a ftream that nourishes a plant upon a bank, and caufes it to flourish and blossom to the fight, but at the fame time is undermining it at the root in fecret. My youth has dealt more fairly and openly with me, it has afforded feveral profpects of my danger, and given me an advantage not very common to young men, that N 4 the . the attractions of the world have not dazzled me very much; and I begin, where most people end, with a full conviction of the emptinefs of all forts of ambition, and the unfatisfactory nature of all human pleasures. When a fmart fit of ficknefs tells me this fcurvy tenement of my body will fall in a little time, I am e'en as unconcern'd as was that honeft Hibernian, who being in bed in the great ftorm fome years ago, and told the houfe would tumble over his head, made answer, What care I for the houfe? I am only a lodger. I fancy 'tis the best time to die when one is in the beft humour; and fo exceffively weak as I now am, I may fay with confcience, that I am not at all uneafy at the thought, that many men, whom I never had any efteem for, are likely to enjoy this world after me. When I reflect what an inconfiderable little atom every single man is, with refpect to the whole creation, methinks, 'tis a fhame to be concern'd at the removal of fuch a trivial animal as I am The morning after my exit, the fun will rife as bright as ever, the flowers fmell as fweet, the plants fpring as green, the world will proceed in its old course, people will laugh as heartily, and marry as faft, as they were us'd to do. The memory of man (as it is elegantly exprefs'd in the Book of Wifdom) paffeth away as the remembrance of a guest that tarrieth but one day. There are reafons enough, in the fourth chapter of the same book, to make any young man contented with the profpect of death. "For honourable age is not that which flandeth in length of time, or is meafur'd by number of years. But wifdom is the grey hair to men, and an unspotted life is old age. "He was taken away fpeedily, left wickedness "fhould alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his foul," &c. I am. Your, &c. I Was the other day in company with five or fix men of fome learning; where chanching to men→ tion the famous verfes which the Emperor Adrian fpoke on his death-bed, they were all agreed that 'twas a piece of gaity unworthy of that prince in thofe circumftances. I could not but differ from this opinion methinks it was by no means a gay, but a very serious foliloquy to his foul at the point of its departure; in which fenfe I naturally took the verses at my first reading them,' when I was very young, and before I knew what interpretation the world generally put upon them. Animula vagula, blandula, Que nunc abibis in loca? Alas, my foul! thou pleafing companion of this body, thou fleeting thing that art now deserting "it whither art thou flying? to what unknown "fcene? all trembling, fearful and penfive? what "now is become of thy former wit and humour? "thou fhalt jeft and be gay no more." I confefs I cannot apprehend where lies the trifling in all this: 'tis the most natural and obvious reflection imaginable to a dying man: and if we confider the Emperor was a heathen, that doubt concerning the future fate of his foul will feem fo far from being the effect of want of thought, that 'twas scarce reasonable he should think otherwife; not to mention that here is a plain confeffion included of his belief in its immortality. The diminutive epithets of vagula, blandula, and the reft, appear not to me as expreffions of levity, but rather of endearment and concern; fuch as we find in Catullus, and the authors of Hendeca-fy!labi after him, where they are ufed to exprefs the utmost love and tendernefs for their miftreffes-If you think me right in my notion of the laft words of Adrian, be pleased to insert it in the Spectator; if not, to suppress it. I am, &c. ADRIANI Morientis Ad ANIMAM, TRANSLATED. Ah fleeting spirit! wand'ring fire, Whither, ah whither art thou flying! I Nov. 12, 1712 Have read over your Temple of Fame twice, and cannot find any thing amifs, of weight enough to call a fault, but fee in it a thoufand thousand beauties. Mr. Addifon fhall fee it to-morrow: after his perufal of it, I will let you know his thoughts. I defire you would let me know whether you are at leifure or not? I have a defign which I fhall open a 6 month month or two hence, with the affiftance of the few like yourself. If your thoughts are unengaged, I fhall explain myself further. I am Your, &c. LETTER VI. The Answer. Nov. 16, 1712. Yo * OU oblige me by the indulgence you have fhewn to the poem I fent you, but will oblige me much more by the kind severity I hope for from you. No errors are fo trivial, but they deserve to be mended. But fince you fay you fee nothing that may be called a fault, can you but think it so, that I have confin'd the attendance of Guardian fpirits to Heaven's favourites only? I could point you to feveral, but 'tis my business to be inform'd of those faults I do not know; and as for those I do, not to talk of them, but to correct them. You fpeak of that poem in a ftyle I neither merit, nor expect; but, I affure you, if you freely mark or dafh out, I fhall look upon your blots to be its greatest beauties: I mean, if Mr. Addifon and yourfelf fhould like it in the whole; otherwife the trouble of correction is what I would not take, for I was really fo diffident of it as to let it lie by me thefe † two years, just as you now fee it. I am afraid of nothing so much as to impofe any thing on the world which is unworthy of its acceptance. *This is not now to be found in the Temple of Fame, which was the Poem here fpoken of. P. + Hence it appears this l'oem was writ before the Author was twenty two years old. P. As |