quainted with the ancients; except through the medium of a French translation. The first labours of the English press brought to light the productions of English literature; which, how rude and barbarous soever, were not confined to the intelligence of the scholar, or the libraries of the learned; but dispersed throughout the nation, and open to the inspection of all, disseminated a general taste for literature, and gave a slow, gradual polish to our language-while in every other nation of Europe, the conceits of commentators, and writers of a similar stamp, whose highest ambition it was to add a Latin termination to a high Dutch name, came into the world, covered with ill-sorted shreds of Cicero and Virgil; like the evil spirits, which have been said to animate a cast-off carcass, previous to their ascension to the regions of light. N° 17. MONDAY, MARCH 12, 1787. 'SIR, Diversa Sequentes.-HORACE. Various their subjects. 'TO GREGORY GRIFFIN, Esq. 'I HAVE thrown together a few observations on the true purpose and extent of politeness, a subject not altogether uninteresting; as it is in the proper or improper application of this, that we are to look for the real elegancies and heightenings of polished life; or the false and empty professions of hypocrisy. And first, it may not be amiss to observe, that though it can by no means be deemed in itself a sufficient substitute for real merit, yet it never fails to give it a polish wherever it meets with it. By softening down the more prominent features, and as it were malleating the harder and more unyielding parts of the composition, it renders the object at once amiable and respectable. We may call it the handmaid of benevolence, busied at the same time in adding to the native charms of her mistress, and performing farther such little offices, as seem not to come immediately within her own department. Not contented, however, with this station, she has usurped a higher character, and like the shade of departed sincerity, increases on us, and swells on the eye with that extraordinary expansion, which we are told the spiritual nature is capable of. 'She addresses us in borrowed phrase, and with complacent smiles, and seemingly honest welcome, beckons us to the hollow embraces of a visionary impostor. Nor is such an impostor to be despised as a weak or an impotent enemy. Like other counterfeits, she becomes the immediate tool of the worldly-minded, who find her a ready instrument for the execution of their mercenary views; and even the best are found upon some occasions to prostitute her to the most unworthy purposes. Let me not, however, from this be deemed an enemy to polished manners. As far as the adjusting ceremonials which fashion has prescribed, and which cannot but be innocent, because we seem in this case to enter into a sort of tacit compact of mutual deceit; still let them be the passport of a gentleman, and stamp of civilization. * But here let politeness stop; let her not assume the form and accent of philanthropy; let her not smile upon her follower, then turn from him " with hard unkindness' altered eye." In this we trace a blacker motive; it is not the effect of a disposition curious in the observance of the minuter parts of x 17. ceremonial, but the deliberate cruelty of a reflecting mind. Many indeed are the ill consequences arising from the misapplication of politeness; in one it introduces an effeminacy and unmanliness of character; another accustoming himself to varnish over things in their nature ambiguous, insensibly finds his perceptions of right and wrong become less clear and distinct; the invariable lines of truth and reason are confounded; and the moral sense itself becomes languid and inactive. It is true, that all who offend thus, err not from the same motive; and it is not unfrequently from an affectation of rising higher than the highest, and of making improvements in an art already as perfect as it ought to be, that this has so far exceeded its natural limits: if so, it may not be amiss to observe, that as in all other languages, so in the courteous vocabulary, there is a period, after which all innovation becomes barbarous; and as in the former case the author who could add nothing to his original stock of materials, may, however, by a judicious arrangement give them all the graces of elocution; so may our Chesterfield graduate display to us the fine gentleman with all its heightenings, without exceeding the limits which both fashion has prescribed, and worldly sincerity may allow of. I am Sir, yours, &c. TO GREGORY GRIFFIN, Esq. DEAR SIR, 'As you have in a foregoing paper so generously promised to attend impartially to every complaint which shall be submitted to your cognizance, I think no one can lay a juster claim to your attention, and even compassion, than myself. My whole life has been one continued series of misfortunes. 'I will not enter into a detail of my pedigree, as that is both immaterial and uninteresting; suffice it to say, I am the only son of a clergyman; who being disgusted with some slights he had received in the world, retired to a small living in the north of England; with the determination of devoting his whole time to the care of my education, which he was in every respect calculated to superintend. At the age of eighteen I had the good fortune to obtain a scholarship at the university, and then the good old man, as if he had completed all his worldly affairs, resigned himself into the hands of his Maker; leaving me no other inheritance. than his benediction. As I had been strictly educated in the principles of honour and religion, I could not, I confess, behold the vice and folly of my fellow-students, without endeavouring to point out to them the impropriety and depravity of their conduct; for my good-nature however I was ridiculed; for my strict adherence to virtue I obtained the appellation of a Prig; and in short was universally laughed at and insulted. For the space of twenty years I led this life of misery; 'till at length urged on by the perpetual indignities I received, and quite weary of a college life, I gladly accepted the offer of a gentleman to become tutor to his sons; and thus gave up my wretched liberty for a still more wretched dependance. I flattered myself, indeed, that I had bettered my situation; but alas! into what an error had I fallen! I soon perceived, that Mr. B. was a professed libertine, and his lady a female rake. I consoled myself, however, with the thoughts of passing my time agreeably in the care of my young pupils: but here I was again mistaken. They were four in number, all alike ungovernable, uncontrollable. I strove at first to gain their affections by lenity and mildness; but I strove in vain. I then began to enforce harsher methods, and even to inflict chastisement; but I was soon given to understand, that Mr. B. did not permit his sons to be used like c common boys. Thus, Sir, I lost all authority over my pupils; who now offer me every insult and indignity that their malice or revenge can suggest; and take every opportunity of shewing their contempt and superiority over me. All this, Sir, I could bear; as I am conscious of my own uprightness and integrity; but there is another circumstance which raises my indignation to the highest pitch. Mr. B. sometimes compels me to be present at his excesses; alleging with a sneer, that his chaplain certainly is the properest man to say grace at his table. There, Sir, I am not only a spectator of the most infamous and indecent behaviour, but am frequently compelled to hear even the most daring and impious blasphemies; which raise at the same time my horror and indignation. This, Mr. Griffin, is what I cannot bear, and am determined to quit this house immediately; if, therefore, you should be able to procure me any place, agreeable to my profession, as no doubt your interest in both worlds is great, you will confer a real favour on, Your sincere admirer, ARTHUR CASSOCK.' 'SIR, 'TO GREGORY GRIFFIN, Esq. If the sincerity of the following verses can recommend them to your notice, and the tediousness of them be not foreign to your plan, I shall be much pleased to see them in a paper of the MICROCOSM. Yours, Sir, ETONENSIS.' Ask ye, companions of my infant years, These hallow'd walls, the muses' much-lov'd charms, |