fancy to this time, there are many faults which I committed that did not appear to me, even till I myself became a father. I had not till then a notion of the yearnings of heart, which a man has when he fees his child do a laudable thing, or the fudden damp which seizes him when he fears he will act something unworthy,

It is not to be imagined, what a remorse touched me for a long train of childish negligences of my mother, when I faw my wife the other day look out of the window, and turn' as pale as ashes upon feeing my younger boy fliding upon the ice. These flight intimations will give you to understand, that there are numberless little crimes which children take no notice of while they are doing, which upon reflection, when they shall themselves become fathers, they will look upon with the utmost forrow and contrition, that they do not regard, before those whom they offended were to be no more seen. How many thousand things do I remember which would have highly pleased my father, which I omitted for no other reason, but that I tho't what he proposed was the effect of humour and old age, which I am now convinced had reason and good sense in it? I cannot now go into the parlour to him, and make his heart glad with an account of a matter which was of no consequence, but that I told it, and acted in it.

"The good man and woman are long fince in their graves, who used to fit and plot the welfare of us their children, while, perhaps, we were fometimes laughing at the old folks at another end of the house. The

truth of it is, were we merely to follow nature in these great duties of life; though we have a strong instinct towards the performing of them, we should be on both fides very deficient. Age is so unwelcome to the generality of mankind, and growth towards manhood fo defirable to all, that refignation to decay is too difficult a task in the father; and deference, amidft the impulse of gay defires, appears unreasonable to the fon. There are fo few who can grow old with a good grace, and yet fewer who can come flow

enough into the world, that a father, were he to be actuated by his defires, and a son, were he to confult himself only, could neither of them behave himself as he ought to the other. But when reason interpo ses against instinct, where it would carry carry either out of the interests of the other, there arifes that happiest intercourse of good offices between those dearest relations of human life. The father, according to the opportunities which are offered to him, is throwing down bleffings on the fon, and the son endeavouring to appear the worthy offspring of such a father. It is after this manner that Camillus and his first-born dwell together. Camillus enjoys a pleasing and indolent old age, in which paffion is fubdued, and reason exalted.. He waits the day of his dissolution with a resignation. mixed with delight, and the son fears the acceflion of his father's fortune with diffidence, left he should not enjoy or become it as well as his predeceffor. Add to this, that the father knows he leaves a friend to the children of his friends, an easy landlord to his tenants, and an agreeable companion to his acquaintance. He believes his fon's behaviour will make him frequently remembered, but never wanted. This commerce is fo well cemented, that without the pomp of saying, Son, be a friend to fuch a one when I am gone; Camillus knows, that being in his favour is direction enough to the grateful youth who is to succeed him, without the admonition of his mentioning it.. These gentlemen are honoured in all their neighbourhood, and the same effect which the court has on the manners of a kingdom, their characters have on all who live within the influence of them.

"My fon and I are not of fortune to communicate our good actions or intentions to so many as these gentlemen do; but I will be bold to say, my fon has, by the applaufe and approbation which his behaviour towards me has gained him, occafioned that many an old man, besides myself, has rejoiced. Other men's、 children follow the example of mine, and I have the inexpreffible happiness of over-hearing ourneighbours, VOL. II.

W2

as we ride by, point to their children, and fay, with a voice of joy, There they go !

"You cannot, Mr. Spectator, pass your time better than in infinuating the delights which these relations well regarded bestow upon each other. Ordinary paffages are no longer such, but mutual love gives an importance to the most indifferent things, and a merit to actions the most infignificant. When we look round the world, and observe the many misunderstandings which are created by the malice and infinuation of the meanest servants between people thus related, how neceffary will it appear that it were inculcated that men would be upon their guard to fupport a conftancy of affection, and that grounded upon the principles of reason, not the impulses of instinct ?

" It is from the common prejudices which men receive from their parents, that hatreds are kept alive from one generation to another; and when men act by inftinct, hatreds will defcend when good offices are forgotten. For the degeneracy of human life is such, that our anger is more easily transferred to our children, than our love. Love always gives fomething to the object it delights in, and anger spoils the perfon againft whom it is moved, of fomething laudable in him: From this degeneracy, therefore, and a fort of self-love, we are more prone to take up the ill-will of our parents, than to follow them in their friendships.

"One would think there should need no more to make men keep up this fort of relation with the utmost fanctity, than to examine their own hearts. If every father remembered his own thoughts and incli nations when he was a fon, and every fon remembered what he expected from his father, when he himself was in a state of dependence, this one reflection would preferve men from being diffolute or rigid in these several capacities. The power and fubjection between them, when broken, make them more emphatically tyrants and rebels against each other, with greater cruelty of heart, than the disruption of states and empires can poffibly produce. I shall end this ap

plication to you with two letters which passed between a mother and a fon very lately, which are as follow,"

Dear FRANK,

F the pleasures, which I have the grief to hear you pursue in town, do not take up all your time, do not deny your mother so much of it, as to read ferioufly this letter. You faid before Mr. Letacre, that an old woman might live very well in the country upon half my jointure, and that your father was a fond fool to give me a rent charge of eight hundred a year, to the prejudice of his fon. What Letacre said to you upon that occafion, you ought to have borne with more decency, as he was your father's well-beloved fervant, than to have called him country pout. In the first place, Frank, I must tell you, I will have my rent duly paid, for I will make up to your fisters for the partiality I was guilty of, in making your father do so much as he hath done for you. I may, it seems, live upon half my jointure! I lived upon much less, Frank, when I carried you from place to place in these arms, and could neither eat, dress, or mind any thing for feeding and tending you, a weakly child, and shedding tears when the convulfions you were then troubled with returned upon you; by my care you outgrew them, to throw away the vigour of your youth in the arms of harlots, and deny your mother what is not yours to detain. Both your fifters are crying to fee the paffion which I smother; but if you please to go on thus like a gentleman of the town, and forget all regards to yourself and family, I shall immediately enter upon your estate, for the arrear due to me, and without one tear more, contemn you for forgetting the fondness of your mother, as much as you have the example of your father. O Frank, do I live to omit writing myfelf, Your affectionate mother ? A. T.

MADAM,

“I WILL come down to-morrow and pay the money on my knees. Pray write so no more. I will take care you never shall, for I will be forever hereaf-ter,

Your most dutiful Son,

F. T.. " I will bring down new heads for my fisters. Pray let all be forgotten.-T. SPECTATOR, Vol. IV. No. 263.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

a

Y OUR correfpondent's letter relating to fortune hunters, and your subsequent discourse upon it, have given me encouragement to fend you state of my cafe, by which you will fee, that the matter complain-ed of, is a common grievance both to city and coun-try.

"I am a country gentleman of between five and fix thousand a year. It is my misfortune to have a very fine park, and an only daughter; upon which ac-count I have been so plagued with deer-stealers and fops, that for these four years past I have scarce enjoyed a moment's reft. I look upon myself to be in a state of war, and am forced to keep as constant watch in my feat, as a governor would do who commands a town on the frontier of an enemy's country. I have indeed pretty well fecured my park, having for this purpose provided myself with four keepers, who are left handed, and handle a quarter-staff beyond any other fellows in the country. And for the guard of my house, besides a band of penfion-matrons, and an old maiden relation, whom I keep on constant duty, I have blunderbusses always charged, and fox-guns plant-ed in private places about my garden, of which I have given frequent notice in the neighbourhood; yet so ite is, that in spite of all my care, I shall every now and then have a faucy rascal ride by reconnoitering (as I think you call it) under my windows, as fprucely dreft as if he was going to a hall. I am aware of this way. of attacking a mistress on horseback, having heard that it is a common practice in Spain; and have therefore: taken care to remove my daughter from the road-fide