deavour to rectify my conduct for the future in those particulars which have drawn the censure upon me; but if the whole invective be grounded upon a falsehood, I trouble myself no further about it, and took upon my name at the head of it to signify no more than one of those fictitious names made use of by an anthor to introduce an imaginary character. Why should a man be sensible of the sting of a reproach, who is a stranger to the guilt that is implied in it? or subject himself to the penalty, when he knows he has never committed the crime? This is a piece of fortitude which every one owes to his own in-' nocence, and without which it is impossible for a man of any merit or figure to live at peace with himself, in a country that abouuds with wit and liberty.

The famous Monsieur Balzac, in a letter to the chancellor of France, who had prevented the publication of a book against him, has the following words, which are a lively picture of the greatness of mind so visible in the works of that author: If it was a new thing, it may be I should not be displeased with the suppression of the first libel that should abuse me; but since there are enough of them to make a small library, I am secretly pleased to see the number increased, and take delight in raising a heap of stones that envy has cast at me without doing me any harm.'

The author here alludes to those monuments* of the eastern nations, which were mountains of stones raised upon the dead bodies by travellers, that used to cast every one his stone upon it as they passed by. It is certain that no monument is so glorious as one which is thus raised by the hands of envy. For my part I admire an author for such a temper of

*There are abundant monuments of the same kind in North Britain, where they are called 'cairns.'

mind as enables him to bear an undeserved reproach without resentment, more than for all the wit of any the finest satirical reply.

Thus far I thought necessary to explain myself in relation to those who have animadverted on this paper, and to show the reasons why I have not thought fit to return them any formal answer. I must further add, that the work would have been of very little use to the public had it been filled with personal reflections and debates; for which reason I have never once turned out of my way to observe those little cavils which have been inade against it by envy or ignorance. The common fry of scribblers, who have no other way of being taken notice of but by attacking what has gained some reputation in the world, would have furnished me with business enough, had they found me disposed to enter the lists with them.

6

I shall conclude with the fable of Boccalini's traveller, who was so pestered with the noise of grasshoppers in his cars, that he alighted from his horse in great wrath to kill them all. This,' says the author, was troubling himself to no manner of purpose. Had he pursued his journey without taking notice of them, the troublesome insects would have died of themselves in a very few weeks, and he would have suffered nothing from them.'

236

deavour to rectif particulars whic but if the whole hood, I trouble upon my name than one of tho author to intro should a man b who is a strang or subject him he has never c of fortitude w nocence, and

man of any m himself, in a liberty.

The famou chancellor of lication of a words, which of mind so vi it was a new pleased with should abuse them to mak to see the I raising a hea without doin

The autho the eastern na raised upon th to cast every by. It is cert one which is

"

mind as

Thus far relation to paper an thought must fur

of very

.ch he suffered a severe reprehension r, as having in his view the glory of n that of God.

hange of things began to draw near,

of Nature thought fit, as a saviour to make his public entry into Jeruore than the power and joy, but none tation and pomp, of a triumph; he e, meek, and lowly with an unfelt multitudes strewed his way with garolive-branches, crying, with loud gladacclamation, Hosannah to the Son of ssed is he that cometh in the name of the this great King's accession to his throne, not ennobled, but saved: crimes were not but sins forgiven. He did not bestow onours, favours; but health, joy, sight, The first object the blind ever saw was or of sight; while the lame ran before, and

repeated the hosannah. Thus attended, ed into his own house, the sacred temple, his divine authority expelled traders and gs that profaned it; and thus did he for a e a great and despotic power, to let unbeunderstand that it was not want of, but suty to, all worldly dominion, that made him ert it. But is this then the Saviour? Is this Deliverer? Shall this obscure Nazarene comIsrael, and sit on the throne of David? Their d and disdainful hearts, which were petrified the love and pride of this world, were imuable to the reception of so mean a benefactor; were now enough exasperated with benefits to spire his death. Our Lord was sensible of their ign, and prepared his disciples fo

N° 356. FRIDAY, APRIL 18, 1712.

-Aptissima quæque dabunt dii.

Charior est illis homo quam sibi.

-The gods will grant

JUV. Sat. x. 349.

What their unerring wisdom sees they want:
In goodness, as in greatness, they excel;

Ah! that we lov'd ourselves but half as well!

DRYDEN.

Ir is owing to pride, and a secret affectation of a certain self-existence, that the noblest motive for action that ever was proposed to man is not acknowledged the glory and happiness of their being. The heart is treacherous to itself, and we do not let our reflections go deep enough to receive religion as the most honourable incentive to good and worthy actions. It is our natural weakness to flatter ourselves into a belief, that if we search into our inmost thoughts, we find ourselves wholly disinter. ested, and divested of any views arising from selflove and vain-glory. But however spirits of superficial greatness may disdain at first sight to do any thing, but from a noble impulse in themselves, without any future regards in this or any other being; upon stricter inquiry they will find, to act worthily, and expect to be rewarded only in another world, is as heroic a pitch of virtue as human nature can arrive at. If the tenor of our actions have any other motive than the desire to be pleasing in the eye of the Deity, it will necessarily follow that we must be more than men, if we are not too much exalted in prosperity and depressed in adversity. But the Christian world has a Leader, the contem