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'DAVYTH AP SHENKYN.

P. S. My law-suits have prought me to London, put I have lost my causes; and so have made my resolutions to go down and leap before the frosts begin; for I am apt to

take colds.'

of Crete Pritain, you must know it, there | tances. Of this make is that man who is is in Caernarvonshire a very pig mountain, very inquisitive. You may often observe, the clory of all Wales, which is named Pen- that though he speaks as good sense as any mainmaure, and you must also know, it is man upon any thing with which he is well no crete journey on foot from me; but the acquainted, he cannot trust to the range of road is stony and bad for shooes. Now, his own fancy to entertain himself upon that there is upon the forehead of this mountain foundation, but goes on still to new inquia very high rock, (like a parish steeple) ries. Thus, though you know he is fit for that cometh a huge deal over the sea; so the most polite conversation, you shall see when I am in my melancholies, and I do him very well contented to sit by a jockey, throw myself from it, I do tesire my fery giving an account of the many revolutions good friend to tell me in his Spictatur, if I in his horse's health, what potion he made shall be cure of my griefous lofes; for there him take, how that agreed with him, how is the sea clear as class, and as creen as the afterwards he came to his stomach and his leek. Then likewise if I be drown and exercise, or any the like impertinence; and preak my neck, if Mrs. Gwinifrid will not be as well pleased as if you talked to him lofe me afterwards. Pray be speedy in on the most important truths. This humour your answers, for I am in crete haste, and is far from making a man unhappy, though it is my tesires to do my business without it may subject him to raillery; for he geneloss of time. I remain with cordial affec- rally falls in with a person who seems to be tions, your ever lofing friend, born for him, which is your talkative fellow. It is so ordered, that there is a secret bent, as natural as the meeting of different sexes, in these two characters, to supply each other's wants. I had the honour the other day to sit in a public room, and saw an inquisitive man look with an air of satis Ridicule, perhaps, is a better expedient talkers. The man of ready utterance sat faction upon the approach of one of these against love than sober advice, and I am of down by him, and rubbing his head, leaning apinion, that Hudibras and Don Quixote on his arm, and making an uneasy counte may be as effectual to cure the extrava-nance, he began; There is no manner of gances of this passion, as any of the old phi-news to-day. I cannot tell what is the mat losophers. I shall therefore publish very ter with me, but I slept very ill last night; speedily the translation of a little Greek whether I caught cold or no, I know not, manuscript, which is sent me by a learned friend. It appears to have been a piece of those records which were kept in the temple of Apollo, that stood upon the promontory of Leucate. The reader will find it to be a summary account of several persons who tried the lover's leap, and of the success they found in it. As there seem to be in it some anachronisms, and deviations from the ancient orthography, I am not wholly satisfied myself that it is authentic, and not rather the production of one of those Grecian sophisters, who have imposed upon the world several spurious works of this nature. I speak this by way of precaution, because I know there are several writers of uncommon erudition, who would not fail to expose my ignorance, if they caught me tripping in a matter of so great inoment. C:

No. 228.] Wednesday, November 21, 1711.
Percunctatorum fugito, nam garrulus idem est.
Hor. Lib. 1. Ep. xviii. 69.

but I fancy I do not wear shoes thick enough for the weather, and I have coughed all this week. It must be so, for the custom of washing my head winter and summer with cold water, prevents any injury from the season entering that way: so it must it: as it comes so it goes. Most of our evils come in at my feet; but I take no notice of proceed from too much tenderness; and our faces are naturally as little able to resist the cold as other parts. The Indian answered very well to an European, who asked him how he could go naked, "I am all face.

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I observed this discourse was as welcome to my general inquirer as any other of more consequence could have been; but somebody calling cur talker to another part of the room, the inquirer told the next man who sat by him, that Mr. Such-a-one, who was just gone from him, used to wash his head in cold water every morning; and so repeated him. The truth is, the inquisitive almost verbatim all that had been said to are funnels of conversation: they do not take in any thing for their own use, but merely to Th' inquisitive will blab; from such refrain; pass it to another. They are the channels Their leaky ears no secret can retain.-Shard. through which all the good and evil that is THERE is a creature who has all the or- spoken in town are conveyed. Such as are gans of speech, a tolerable good capacity offended at them, or think they suffer by for conceiving what is said to it, together their behaviour, may themselves mend that with a pretty proper behaviour in all the inconvenience; for they are not a malicious Occurrences of common life; but naturally people, and if you will supply them, you very vacant of thought in itself, and there- may contradict any thing they have said forc forced to apply itself to foreign assis-before by their own mouths. A farther ac

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ount of a thing is one of the gratefullest Dods that can arrive to them; and it is selom that they are more particular than to y, 'The town will have it, or I have it om a good hand;' so that there is room for e town to know the matter more particurly, and for a better hand to contradict hat was said by a good one.

that Caius Gracchus, the Roman, was frequently hurried by his passion into so loud and tumultuous a way of speaking, and so strained his voice as not to be able to proceed. To remedy this excess, he had an ingenious servant, by name Licinius, always attending him with a pitch-pipe, or instrument to regulate the voice; who, whenever I have not known this humour more ridi- he heard his master begin to be high, imalous than in a father, who has been ear-mediately touched a soft note, at which 'tis Estly solicitous to have an account how his said, Caius would presently abate and grow n has passed his leisure hours; if it be in calm. way thoroughly insignificant, there cannot a greater joy than an inquirer discovers seeing him follow so hopefully his own eps. But this humour among men is most leasant when they are saying something hich is not wholly proper for a third peron to hear, and yet is in itself indifferent. he other day there came in a well-dressed oung fellow, and two gentlemen of this pecies immediately fell a whispering his edigree. I could overhear, by breaks, She was his aunt;' then an answer, Ay, e was of the mother's side;' then again in little lower voice, His father wore geneally a darker wig;' answer, 'Not much, ut this gentleman wears higher heels to

is shoes.

Upon recollecting this story, I have frequently wondered that this useful instrument should have been so long discontinued, especially since we find that this good office of Licinius has preserved his memory for many hundred years, which, methinks, should have encouraged some one to have revived it, if not for the public good, yet for his own credit. It may be objected, that our loud talkers are so fond of their own noise, that they would not take it well to be checked by their servants. But granting this to be true, surely any of their hearers have a very good title to play a soft note in their own defence. To be short, no Licinius appearing, and the noise increasing, I was resolved to give this late long vacation As the inquisitive, in my opinion, are such to the good of my country; and I have at erely from a vacancy in their own imagi- length by the assistance of an ingenious ations, there is nothing methinks so dan-artist (who works for the Royal Society,) erous as to communicate secrets to them; or the same temper of inquiry makes them s impertinently communicative: but no an, though he converses with them, need ut himself in their power, for they will be ontented with matters of less moment as well. When there is fuel enough, no mater what it is. Thus the ends of senences in the newspapers, as, This wants onfirmation,' This occasions many speulations,' and Time will discover the vent,' are read by them, and considered ot as mere expletives. One may see now and then this humour ccompanied with an insatiable desire of nowing what passes, without turning it to ny use in the world but merely their own ntertainment. A mind which is gratified his way is adapted to humour and pleaantry, and formed for an unconcerned chaacter in the world; and like myself to be a will be a particular note, which I call a mere Spectator. This curiosity, without alice or self-interest, lays up in the imu hush-note; and this is to be made use of nation a magazine of circumstances which against a long story, swearing, obsceneness,

annot but entertain when they are produced conversation. If one were to know, from e man of the first quality to the meanest

In the

almost completed my design, and shall be
ready in a short time to furnish the public
with what number of these instruments
they please, either to lodge at coffee-houses,
or carry for their own private use.
mean time I shall pay that respect to seve-
ral gentlemen, who I know will be in dan-
ger of offending against this instrument, to
give them notice of it by private letters, in
which I shall only write, "Get a Licinius."

"I should now trouble you no longer, but
that I must not conclude without desiring
you to accept one of these pipes, which
shall be left for you with Buckley; and
which I hope will be serviceable to you,
since as you are silent yourself, you are
most open to the insults of the noisy. I am,
sir, &c.
W. B.'

'I had almost forgot to inform you, that
as an improvement in this instrument, there

and the like.'

T.

rvant, the different intrigues, sentiments, No. 229.] Thursday, November 22, 1711.

leasures, and interests of mankind, would not be the most pleasing entertainment naginable to enjoy so constant a farce, as e observing mankind much more different om themselves in their secret thoughts nd public actions, than in their night-caps nd long periwigs?

MR. SPECTATOR, Plutarch tells us,

-Spirat adhuc amor,

Vivuntque commissi calores

Eoliæ fidibus puellæ.-Hor. Lib. 4. Od. ix. 10.
Nor Sappho's amorous flames decay,
Her living songs preserve their charming art,
Her verse still breathes the passions of her heart.
Francis.

AMONG the many famous pieces of an-
tiquity which are still to be seen at Rome,

there is the trunk of a statue which has lost the arms, legs, and head; but discovers such an exquisite workmanship in what remains of it, that Michael Angelo declared he had learned his whole art from it. Indeed he studied it so attentively, that he made most of his statues, and even his pictures, in that gusto, to make use of the Italian phrase; for which reason this maimed statue is still called Michael Angelo's school.

Un nuage confus se repand sur ma vuč,
Je n'entens plus, je tombe en de douces langueurs;
Et pâle, sans haleine, interdite, esperdue,
Un frisson me saisit, je tremble, je me meurs.

The reader will see that this is rather an imitation than a translation. The cir cumstances do not lie so thick together, and follow one another with that vehe mence and emotion as in the original. In short, Monsieur Boileau has given us all A fragment of Sappho, which I design the poetry, but not all the passion of this for the subject of this paper, is in as great famous fragment. I shall, in the last place, reputation among the poets and critics, as present my reader with the English trans the mutilated figure above-mentioned is among the statuaries and painters. Several of our countrymen, and Mr. Dryden in particular, seem very often to have copied after it in their dramatic writings, and in their poems upon love.

Whatever might have been the occasion of this ode, the English reader will enter into the beauties of it, if he supposes it to have been written in the person of a lover sitting by his mistress. I shall set to view three different copies of this beautiful original; the first is a translation by Catullus, the second by Monsieur Boileau, and the last by a gentleman whose translation of the Hymn to Venus has been so deservedly admired.*

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Dulce ridentem; misero quod omnis
Eripit sensus mihi: nam simul te,
Lesbia, adspezi, nihil est super mi

Quod loquar amens.

Lingua sed torpet: tenuis sub artus
Flamma dimanat: sonitu suopte
Tinniunt aures: gemina teguntur
Lumina nocte.

My learned reader will know very well the reason why one of these verses is printed in Roman letter; and if he compares this translation with the original, will find that the three first stanzas are rendered almost word for word, and not only with the same elegance, but, with the same short turn of expression which is so remarkable in the Greek, and so peculiar to the Sapphic ode. I cannot imagine for what reason Madam Dacier has told us, that this ode of Sappho is preserved entire in Longinus, since it is manifest to any one who looks into that author's quotation of it, that there must at least have been another stanza, which is not transmitted to us.

The second translation of this fragment which I shall here cite, is that of Monsieur Boileau.

Heureux! qui près de toi, pour toi seule soupire:
Qui jouït du plaisir de t'entendre parler:
Qui te voit quelquefois doucement lui sourire,
Les dieux, dans son bonheur, peuvent-ils l'egaler?
Je sens de veine en veine une subtile flamme
Courir par tout mon corps, si-tôt que je te vois:
Et dans les doux transports, où s'egare mon ame,
Je ne scaurois trouver de langue, ni de voix.

*See No. 223.

lation.

Blest as th' immortal gods is he,
The youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while
Softly speak and sweetly smile.

'Twas this depriv'd my soul of rest,
And rais'd such tumults in my breast;
For while I gaz'd, in transport tost,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost:

My bosom glow'd: the subtle flame
Ran quick through all my vital frame;
O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung;
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd;
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd;
My feeble pulse forgot to play;
I fainted, sunk, and dy'd away.

Instead of giving any character of this last translation, I shall desire my learned reader to look into the criticisms which Longinus has made upon the original. By that means he will know to which of the translations he ought to give the preference. I shall only add, that this translation is written in the very spirit of Sappho, and as near the Greek as the genius of our language will possibly suffer.

Longinus has observed, that this description of love in Sappho is an exact copy of nature, and that all the circumstances, which follow one another in such a hurry of sentiments, notwithstanding they appear repugnant to each other, are really such as happen in the frenzies of love.

I wonder, that not one of the critics or editors, through whose hands this ode has Passed, has taken occasion from it to mention a circumstance related by Plutarch. That author, in the famous story of Antio chus, who fell in love with Stratonice, his mother-in-law, (and not daring to discover his passion,) pretended to be confined to his bed by sickness, tells us, that Erasistratus, the physician, found out the nature of his distemper by those symptoms of love which he had learnt from Sappho's writings. Stratonice was in the room of the love-sick prince, when these symptoms discovered themselves to his physician; and it is probable, that they were not very different from those which Sappho here describes in a lover sitting by his mistress The story of Antiochus is so well known, that I need not add the sequel of it, which has no relation to my present subject. C

No. 230.] Friday, November 23, 1711.

Homines ad deos nulla re proprius accedunt, quam

alutem hominibus dando.-Tull.

Men resemble the gods in nothing so much as in oing good to their fellow-creatures.

will not only oblige me, but him also; for
be as grateful in acknowledging your favour
though he does not covet it, I know he will

as if he had asked it.'

HUMAN nature appears a very deformed, Ta very beautiful object, according to the ifferent lights in which it is viewed. When we see men of inflamed passions, or of vicked designs, tearing one another to ieces by open violence, or undermining ach other by secret treachery; when we bserve base and narrow ends pursued by gnominious and dishonest means; when e behold men mixed in society as if it ere for the destruction of it; we are even shamed of our species, and out of humour ith our own being. But in another light, with the protection of some few of them, "Could I prevail so far as to be honoured when we behold them mild, good, and beevolent, full of a generous regard for the (for I am not hero enough to rescue many,) ublic prosperity, compassionating each my design is to retire with them to an agreether's distresses, and relieving each other's hood of a city, for the convenience of their able solitude, though within the neighbourants, we can hardly believe they are being instructed in music, dancing, drawing, reatures of the same kind. In this view designing, or any other such accomplishney appear gods to each other, in the ex-ments, which it is conceived may make as rcise of the noblest power, that of doing proper diversions for them, and almost as ood; and the greatest compliment we have pleasant, as the little sordid games which ver been able to make to our own being, dirty school-boys are so much delighted as been by calling this disposition of mind with. It may easily be imagined, how such umanity. We cannot but observe a plea- a pretty society, conversing with none beure arising in our own breast upon the neath themselves, and sometimes admiteeing or hearing of a generous action, even ted, as perhaps not unentertaining parties, hen we are wholly disinterested in it. I annot give a more proper instance of this, caressed for their little performances, and amongst better company, commended and han by a letter from Pliny, in which he turned by such conversations to a certain ecommends a friend in the most handsome gallantry of soul, might be brought early manner, and methinks it would be a great acquainted with some of the most polite leasure to know the success of this epistle, English writers. This having given them hough each party concerned in it has been some tolerable taste of books, they would many hundred in his grave.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-The reflections in of education now in use, have given birth some of your papers on the servile manner to an ambition, which, unless you discountenance it, will, I doubt, engage me in a ture. I am about to undertake, for the sake very difficult, though not ungrateful advenof the British youth, to instruct them in such a manner, that the most dangerous them with much pleasure, and with perpage in Virgil or Homer may be read by fect safety to their persons.

years

'To Maximus.

make themselves masters of the Latin tongue by methods far easier than those in What I should gladly do for any friend as young ladies learn to speak French, or Lilly, with as little difficulty or reluctance yours, I think I may now with confidence to sing Italian operas. When they had adquest for a friend of mine. Arrianus Ma- vanced thus far, it would be time to form arius is the most considerable man of his their taste something more exactly. One ountry: when I call him so, I do not speak that had any true relish of fine writing, ith relation to his fortune, though that is might with great pleasure both to himself ery plentiful, but to his integrity, justice, and them, run over together with them the ravity, and prudence; his advice is useful best Roman historians, poets, and orators, me in business, and his judgment in mat- and point out their more remarkable beaurs of learning. His fidelity, truth, and ties, give them a short scheme of chronood understanding are very great; besides logy, a little view of geography, medals, is, he loves me as you do, than which, I astronomy, or what else might best feed nnot say any thing that signifies a warmer the busy inquisitive humour so natural to fection. He has nothing that's aspiring; that age. Such of them as had the least nd, though he might rise to the highest spark of genius, when it was once awakened der of nobility, he keeps himself in an by the shining thoughts and great sentiferior rank: yet I think myself bound to ments of those admired writers, could not, my endeavours to serve and promote I believe, be easily withheld from attemptm; and would therefore find the means ing that more difficult sister language, adding something to his honours while whose exalted beauties they would have neither expects nor knows it, nay, heard so often celebrated as the pride and ough he should refuse it. Something, in wonder of the whole learned world. In the ort, I would have for him, that may be mean while, it would be requisite to exernourable, but not troublesome; and I en- cise their style in writing any little pieces at that you will procure him the first that ask more of fancy than of judgment: ing of this kind that offers, by which you and that frequently in their native lan

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guage, which every one, methinks, should | respect to an audience that can be. It is a be most concerned to cultivate, especially sort of mute eloquence, which pleads for letters, in which a gentleman must have so their favour much better than words could frequent occasions to distinguish himself. do; and we find their generosity naturally A set of genteel good-natured youths fallen moved to support those who are in so much into such a manner of life, would form al- perplexity to entertain them. I was exmost a little academy, and doubtless prove tremely pleased with a late instance of this no such contemptible companions, as might kind at the opera of Almahide, in the ennot often tempt a wiser man to mingle him-couragement given to a young singer,* self in their diversions, and draw them into whose more than ordinary concern on her such serious sports as might prove nothing first appearance recommended her no less less instructing than the gravest lessons. I than her agreeable voice, and just per doubt not but it might be made some of formance. Mere bashfulness without merit their favourite plays, to contend which of is awkward; and merit without modesty inthem should recite a beautiful part of a solent. But modest merit has a double claim poem or oration most gracefully, or some- to acceptance, and generally meets with as times to join in acting a scene of Terence, many patrons as beholders. I am, &c. Sophocles, or our own Shakspeare. The cause of Milo might again be pleaded before more favourable judges, Cæsar a second time be taught to tremble, and annother race of Athenians be afresh enraged at the ambition of another Philip, Amidst these noble amusements, we could hope to see the early dawnings of their imagination daily brighten into sense, their innocence improve into virtue, and their unexperienced good-nature directed to a generous love of their country. I am, &c.' T.

No. 231.] Saturday, November 24, 1711.

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O modesty! O piety! LOOKING Over the letters which I have lately received from my correspondents, met with the following one, which is written with such a spirit of politeness, that I could not but be very much pleased with it myself, and, question not but it will be as acceptable to the reader.

himself to advantage in an assembly, whe It is impossible that a person should exert ther it be his part either to sing or speak, who lies under too great oppressions of modesty. I remember, upon talking with a friend of mine concerning the force of promeration of the several organs of speech nunciation, our discourse led us into the enuwhich an orator ought to have in perfec tion, as the tongue, the teeth, the lips, the nose, the palate, and the windpipe. Upon which,' says my friend, you have omitted the most material organ of them all, and that is the forehead.'

But notwithstanding an excess of modesty obstructs the tongue, and renders it unfit for its offices, a due proportion of it is toricians have recommended it to their disthought so requisite to an orator, that rhe Iciples as a particular in their art. Cicero tells us that he never liked an orator who did not appear in some little confusion at the beginning of his speech, and confesses that he himself never entered upon an ora tion without trembling and concern. It is indeed a kind of deference which is due to a great assembly, and seldom fails to raise a benevolence in the audience towards the person who speaks. My correspondent has taken notice that the bravest men often appear timorous on these occasions, as indeed we may observe, that there is generally no creature more impudent than a coward; -Lingua melior, sed frigida bello

MR. SPECTATOR,-You, who are no stranger to public assemblies, cannot but have observed the awe they often strike on such as are obliged to exert any talent before them. This is a sort of elegant distress to which ingenuous minds are the most liable, and may therefore deserve some remarks in your paper. Many a brave fellow, who has put his enemy to flight in the field, has been in the utmost disorder upon making a speech before a body of his friends at home. One would think there was some kind of fascination in the eyes of a large circle of people, when darting all together upon one person. I have seen a new actor in a tragedy so bound up by it as to be scarce able to speak or move, and have expected he would have died above three acts before the dagger or cup of poison were brought in. It would not be amiss, if such a one were at first to be introduced as a ghost, or a statue, until he recovered his spirits, and grew fit for some living part.

'As this sudden desertion of one's self shows a diffidence which is not displeasing, it implies at the same time the greatest

Dextera
Virg. Æn. xi. 338.
-Bold at the council-board:
But cautious in the field, he shunn'd the sword.
Dryden.

A bold tongue and a feeble arm are the qualifications of Drances in Virgil; as Ho mer, to express a man both timorous and saucy, makes use of a kind of point, which is very rarely to be met with in his writings; namely, that he had the eyes of a dog, but the heart of a deer.†

A just and reasonable modesty does not only recommend eloquence, but sets off every great talent which a man can be pos sessed of. It heightens all the virtues which

Sir John Hawkins's History of Music, vol. v. p
* Mrs. Barbier. See a curious account of this lady i
156.
† Iliad, i. 225.

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