The plain dealer: being select essays on several curious subjects: relating to friendship, ... poetry, and other branches of polite literature. Publish'd originally in the year 1724. And now first collected into two volumes. ... [pt.1]

THE PLAIN DEALER. No 20.

Tum pater Anchises lachrymis ingressus obortis: O nate, ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum: Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, ne{que} ultrâ Esse sinent — VIR.

Heu miserande puer! Si qua fata aspera rumpas, Tu Marcellus eris. — Ibid.

Discite justitiam moniti, & non temnere divos. Ibid.

FRIDAY, May 29. 1724.

SIR,

YOU observed, very justly, in one of your late Papers, that no Figure in Life can be more graceful, and amiable, than that of a wise, and good, Father; with Respect to an only Son, who possesses, and deserves, his Indulgence.

THAT Lover of Mankind, Hortensius, gave us, lately, a fine Example, of the Force of this Truth: But I look back, upon it with Anguish, because I judge of his present Pain, by the Excess of his past Pleasure.

THO' Hortensius had, properly, but one Son, he was, in some Sense, the Common Fa∣ther.

—Nothing ever was carried higher than the Manliness of his Heart, except its Sweetness, and Humanity: For he was soften'd, by the benevolent Overflowings of a Pity, that touch'd him, at once, in the two Extremes of Sensibi∣lity! His own Joys were damp'd, by other Peoples Afflictions; and his private Sorrows chear'd, by the Prosperity of those who hated him.—He not only forgave, readily, the most malicious of his Enemies; but, that he might be sure to do it, generously, he forgot the very Injuries.—Even his Faults were no other, than the unsuccessful Result of his Virtues; for act∣ing rather by the measure of his Mind, than of his Power, he provok'd the Disappointed; to whom the Will is no Obliger.—His Wit could fear no Rivals, but his Courage, and his Honesty:—And every Person who shall read this faint Character of his Excellence, has been oblig'd, by the Effects of it; with regard to the Pub∣lick Interest; and the Ornaments of Society.

SUCH was Hortensius!—and such Horten∣sius is; if yet he may be said to be, after the Death of that dear Son, he liv'd in; and into whose fine Mind he had pour'd out, and trans∣fus'd, all the Fullness of his Virtues; with a kind of Hope, in him, and his, to have im∣mortaliz'd his very Body! and to receive, from future Ages, in the Honours paid to his De∣scendants, the Tribute of that Praise, which his own, declining Life, is, now, too scanty to make Room for.

HE, who knows the Father's Prospect; and how suddenly Death has blasted it; having snatch'd away the Son, when just blooming into Manhood; and, already, the Companion, and the Friend, of his Father! never look'd on, without Joy;—never oblig'd, without Gratitude;—never thought on, without Ten∣derness;—never hearken'd to, without Won∣der! must be touch'd with a lively Sense of what that Fate brought with it; which tore, from such a Parent! (who, before, had lost the Mother,) such a Son; to leave him, joy∣less; with the future World before him, like a bleak, and barren Desart!—And the past, more dreadful still, by a thousand goading Tendernesses; which cling for ever to the Me∣mory; and torment, and sting, Reflection.

WHAT is Life, when we consider it under the Accidents it is liable to, but an unresting Conflict, in the Dark, with Labours, Doubts, and Disappointments!—One, such Loss, as Hortensius has sustain'd, in this lov'd Son: (and so felt, too, as Hortensius feels it) serves, for ever, to imbitter Hope; and draws Gloom enough over the Mind, to put a Stop to our wild Pursuits, of Riches, Power, and Reputa∣tion.

WHEN I compare the present Calamity of this Gentleman, with the Satisfaction he is fallen from;—with that ripening Expectati∣on;—that observing Vigilance; that unspeak∣able Succession of little Transports, and tender Triumphs;—and all that Train of Noble

Weaknesses, which warm, and open the human Heart, upon these dear, and soft, Occasions; I confess to you that I am lost, in too quick a Sense of his Misery!—And I tremble, while I learn from it, that we are expos'd to it, most danger∣ously, on that strongest, and unguarded, Quarter, whence we look for our sincerest Happiness!

I MET Hortensius, some time since; and, letting down my Glass, by Accident, just as his Chair was passing me, my Soul was wound∣ed, through my Eyes, at the moving Majesty of his Sorrow.—He endeavour'd to have skreen'd it, behind the Greatness of his Spirit; and put me in Mind, when I was gone by him, of this fine, and natural Stroke, in Shake∣speare.

— She never told her Pain; But let Concealment, like a Worm, i'the Bud, Prey, on her Damask Cheek:—seem'd, all unmov'd; And sat,—like Patience, on a Monument; Smiling, at Grief!

IF a Man, who had embark'd himself, for some long Voyage, with his Friends, and his whole Family, shou'd have the miserable De∣liverance, to escape, alone, from a Shipwreck; and be thrown ashore, upon some barren Island, whence he cou'd discern no Object round him, but the Swelling of the Sea, while it was cover∣ing the sinking Heads of all, who were near, or dear, to him: and, to preserve whose che∣rish'd Lives, he wou'd, himself have dy'd, with

Pleasure!—Could such a dreadful Distinction be consider'd as a Blessing to him?—Or, shou'd we not rather pity him, as the Person, of the whole Number, whose Lot was least supportable? And to which, a thousand Deaths were preferable!

YET, methinks, Mr. Plain-Dealer, tho', to lose a Worthy Son, must be acknowledg'd a trying Misery; It is a Fate, severer still, to be the Father of an Unworthy one.—

— And live, to feel, How, sharper than a Serpent's Tooth, it is, To have a thankless Child! Shakespeare in King Lear.

SHEW me a Good Man, whose paternal Care has been rewarded with Contempt, from the ungrateful Object of his Tenderness:—Who sees his Name disgrac'd, by the sordid Quali∣ties of an Heir, from whose expected Excel∣lence he had promis'd himself an Encrease to its Reputation:—Who lives, convinced, that he is hated, avoided, and wish'd dead, by a Wretch, whom he has given Life to! and from whose Virtues, he had flatter'd himself, that his Old Age wou'd find a Comfort! and his Memory retain a Glory!—Such a Father shall look, with a kind of Envy, on Horten∣sius, and be the only Person capable of weigh∣ing his Distress, without Agony.

THE Impartiality of Time, and Reason, placing in the same Degree of Fame, those

who polish'd, and instructed, Nations, with those who govern'd, or conquer'd, them; Hortensius need not blush, to see his Name, rank'd with Princes.—I will therefore instance an Example of a vaster Misery than his own, in the greatest Monarch of our Age: (why did I not say of any Age?) I mean the Czar of Russia:—A Prince! whose Actions will draw after him a Blaze of Glory, and Astonish∣ment, through the latest Depth of Time! and warm the Hearts of Posterity with the same generous Reverence, for the Name of this im∣mortal Emperor, which we now feel, at men∣tion of Alexander the Great: or the first, and noblest, of the Caesars.

THERE can be very few of your Readers, who have not heard the Czar accus'd of one of the most shocking Kinds of Cruelty, with regard to the Death of his Son, the late Prince Royal—But most of 'em, I believe, are igno∣rant, that this great, and generous Sovereign, was so free from the Guilt of that ill-ground∣ed Imputation, that he pardon'd his Condemn'd Son, in Person, in the most tender, and move∣ing Manner, after he had been sentenc'd to Death, not by the Czar himself, but by a Con∣vention of the Senate, and States, of Russia, Ecclesiastical,—Civil,—and Military:—for having (to use the very Words of the Sentence) Form'd a Design to get the Crown even in the Life-time of his Father: opposing, and under∣mining, all his glorious Improvements; and soli∣citing Insurrections, of Rebels, at Home; and

the Assistance of a Foreign Army, to accomplish the Destruction of them.

I COU'D produce the most authentic, and undeniable, Evidences, that, throughout the whole Course of this great, and private, Affli∣ction, the Czar discover'd more, of the Vast∣ness! the Humanity! and the Firmness, of his Soul, than in all the Publick Torrent, of his Dangers; and his Victories!—And, I think, I may challenge the most partial Admirers of Antiquity, to produce any Thing, so humane! so heroic! so God-like! as this Letter! even from their greatest, and most honour'd, Cha∣racters.—It was writ, and deliver'd, by the Czar's own Hand, to the Prince Royal, his Son, on the 11th Day of October, in the Year 1715.

Extract of a LETTER, from the Czar of Russia, to his Son, the Prince Alexei.

My SON,

YOU cannot be ignorant, since it is known to all the World, to what Degree our People groan'd, under the Swedish Oppres∣sion. We saw, by the Loss of our Maritime Provinces, that we were cut off from all Com∣merce with the rest of the World. You know, too, what it cost us, in the Begin∣ning of this War, to qualify ourselves to give a Check to so implacable a Violence. But God led us by the Hand, till we were wor∣thy, in our Turn, to make that Enemy trem∣ble,

before whom others had, long, trem∣bled.—We owe this, next to God, to our own, unwearied Toil; and the Affection of our Best Children, our faithful, Russian Sub∣jects.

BUT, if, while I am viewing this Prospe∣rity of my Native Country, I turn an Eye to my own Posterity, my Heart is oppress'd, with Grief, that is too heavy for my Glory.—I see You, my Son! rejecting all the Means of becoming able to protect, or govern, what I leave you.—You will not so much as hear of Warlike Study; tho' by that only we broke out of the Obscurity we were in∣volv'd in; and made ourselves notic'd among Nations.

I DO not exhort You to make War, with∣out Reason;—I but press you to learn the Art of it. I cou'd place before your Eyes many Proofs, that this is necessary: But I will name the Greeks, only; for they are united in the same Faith, with us.—What, but Neglect of Arms, was the Occasion of their Ruin? Rest, and Idleness, had weaken'd them, till they cou'd submit, even to Slavery! You mistake, if you think it enough, for a Prince to have Good Generals. Men look up, to the Head: They examine his Inclinations, that they may conform themselves to his Genius.—My Brother, in his Reign, lov'd Magnificence, in Dress, and Horses. The Nation, (before, not at all inclin'd that Way) form'd their Taste, upon their Prince's; for

they imitate us, as well in our Good Quali∣ties, as our Evil.

YOU hate War:—You neglect it:—You will, consequently, never learn it.—How, then, can you command others?—How judge, of the Rewards, which shou'd encourage the Deserving? or the Punishments, which must be held out, to the Eyes of the Unworthy?—You will see, and hear, for ever, with the Eyes, and Ears, of others; and resem∣ble a young Bird, that holds out its Bill to its Feeder.

I AM a Man, my Son, and I must die.—To whom shall I leave the Accomplishment of my Labours? To whom shall I commit the Protection of my People?—To one! who, like the slothful Servant, conceals, the Ta∣lent, he shou'd employ!—and falls back, from the glorious Trust, which God has dis∣tinguish'd him by!

REMEMBER your long Obstinacy—and become generously asham'd, of this Perverse∣ness in your Nature.—How often have I reproach'd You! Nay, sometimes, you have compell'd my Affection even to punish you!—For some Years past, I have scarce spoke to you.—Yet, all this avail'd nothing.—It was losing my Time!—It was striking the Air!—All your Pleasure consists in Indo∣lence! Things, of which you ought to be asham'd, because they make you contempti∣ble, compose your dearest Delight!—Nor

do you concern yourself for the Consequen∣ces, it may produce to your Country!

AFTER having weigh'd, in my secret Breast, the fatal Tendency of your Proceed∣ings;—After having reflected, how long, in vain, I have endeavour'd to redeem you: I have thought fit, by my own Hand-writ∣ing, to give you the last Result of my Will.—With this Determination, however,—to wait, still, some Time longer, before I put it in Execution; to expect, or hope, your Amendment:—If not, you are, hereby, to know, that I will deprive you of the Succession; as a Man would cut off a gangren'd Member.

DO not fancy, that, because I have no other Child but you, I only write this to terrify you: By God's Pleasure, I will, most cer∣tainly, do it. For, since I spare not my own Life, for the Welfare of my People: Why shou'd I regard your Honour, who are not fram'd for becoming it?—I will, rather, transmit my Dominions to a Stranger, who shall be Worthy of them, than to my own unworthy Son, who can neither defend, nor adorn, them.

Sign'd, in the Original, with the Czar's own Hand, PETER.

I WILL close my Paper, here, and revere the Soul of this great Prince, in Silence! for, to say any Thing, in Praise, or Explanation,

of such a Letter, were to treat my Readers, like Insensibles.—If there lives any one Person, who can consider it, without Love, and Vene∣ration, for its Writer, his Apprehension must be so grosly cover'd, with a Cloud of Dulness, and Stupidity, that he is destin'd to remain impenetrable, by Honour, Justice, or Huma∣nity!