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burnt, his ashes were put into a cannon, and shot into the air towards Tartary.

their own behaviour so unhappily, that there indeed lies some cause of suspicion I am apt to believe, that if something like upon them. It is certain, that there is no this method of punishment should prevail in authority for persons who have nothing else England (such is the natural good sense of to do, to pass away hours of conversation the British nation,) that whether we ram-upon the miscarriages of other people; but med an atheist whole into a great gun, or since they will do so, they who value their pulverized our infidels, as they do in Po-reputation should be cautious of appearland, we should not have many charges.

I should, however, premise, while our ammunition lasted, that, instead of Tartary, we should always keep two or three cannons ready pointed towards the Cape of Good Hope, in order to shoot our unbelievers into the country of the Hottentots.

In my opinion, a solemn judicial death is too great an honour for an atheist; though I must allow the method of exploding him, as it is practised in this ludicrous kind of martyrdom, has something in it proper enough to the nature of his offence.

ances to their disadvantage: but very often our young women, as well as the middleaged, and the gay part of those growing old, without entering into a formal league for that purpose, to a woman, agree upon a short way to preserve their characters, and go on in a way that at best is only not vicious. The method is, when an ill-natured or talkative girl has said any thing that bears hard upon some part of another's carriage, this creature, if not in any of their little cabals, is run down for the most censorious, dangerous body in the world. Thus they There is indeed a great objection against guard their reputation rather than their this manner of treating them. Zeal for re-modesty; as if guilt lay in being under the ligion is of so effective a nature that it sel- imputation of a fault, and not in a commisdom knows where to rest: for which reason sion of it. Orbicilla is the kindest poor I am afraid, after having discharged our thing in town, but the most blushing creaatheists, we might possibly think of shoot-ture living. It is true, she has not lost the ing off our sectaries; and as one does not sense of shame, but she has lost the sense foresee the vicissitudes of human affairs, it of innocence. If she had more confidence, might one time or other come to a man's and never did any thing which ought to own turn to fly out of the mouth of a demi-stain her cheeks, would she not be much culverin.

If any of my readers imagine that I have treated these gentlemen in too ludicrous a manner, I must confess, for my own part, I think reasoning against such unbelievers, upon a point that shocks the common sense of mankind, is doing them too great an honour, giving them a figure in the eye of the world, and making people fancy that they have more in them than they really have.

more modest, without that ambiguous suffusion which is the livery both of guilt and innocence? Modesty consists in being conscious of no ill, and not in being ashamed of having done it. When people go upon any other foundation than the truth of their own hearts for the conduct of their actions, it lies in the power of scandalous tongues to carry the world before them, and make the rest of mankind fall in with the ill for fear of reproach. On the other hand, to do what you ought, is the ready way to make calumny either silent, or ineffectually malicious. Spenser, in his Fairy Queen, says admirably to young ladies under the dis

As for those persons who have any scheme of religious worship, I am for treating such with the utmost tenderness, and should endeavour to show them their errors with the greatest temper and humanity; but as these miscreants are for throwing down re-tress of being defamed: ligion in general, for stripping mankind of what themselves own is of excellent use in all great societies, without once offering to establish any thing in the room of it, I think the best way of dealing with them, is to retort their own weapons upon them, which X. are those of scorn and mockery.

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'The best,' said he, that I can you advise,
Is to avoid th' occasion of the ill:
For when the cause, whence evil doth arise,
Removed is, th' effect surceaseth still.
Abstain from pleasure, and restrain your will,
Subdue desire, and bridle loose delight:
Use scanty diet, and forbear your fill;

Shun secresy, and talk in open sight;
So shall you soon repair your present evil plight."

Instead of this care over their words and actions, recommended by a poet in old queen Bess's days, the modern way is to say and do what you please, and yet be the prettiest sort of woman in the world. If fathers and brothers will defend a lady's honour, she is quite as safe as in her own innocence. Many of the distressed, who suffer under the malice of evil tongues, are so harmless, that they are every day they live asleep till twelve at noon; concern themselves with nothing but their own persons till two; take their necessary food between that time and four; visit, go to the

play, and sit up at cards till towards the ensuing morn; and the malicious world shall draw conclusions from innocent glances, short whispers, or pretty familiar railleries with fashionable men, that these fair ones are not as rigid as vestals. It is certain, say these 'goodest' creatures, very well, that virtue does not consist in constrained behaviour and wry faces; that must be allowed: but there is a decency in the aspect and manner of ladies, contracted from a habit of virtue, and from general reflections that regard a modest conduct, all which may be understood, though they cannot be described. A young woman of this sort claims an esteem mixed with affection and honour, and meets with no defamation; or, if she does, the wild malice is overcome with an undisturbed perseverance in her innocence. To speak freely, there are such coveys of coquettes about this town, that if the peace were not kept by some impertinent tongues of their own sex, which keep them under some restraint, we should have no manner of engagement upon them to keep them in any tolerable order.

As I am a Spectator, and behold how plainly one part of woman-kind balance the behaviour of the other, whatever I may think of tale-bearers or slanderers, I cannot wholly suppress them, no more than a general would discourage spies. The enemy would easily surprise him whom they knew had no intelligence of their motions. It is so far otherwise with me, that I acknowledge I permit a she-slanderer or two in every quarter of the town, to live in the characters of coquettes, and take all the innocent freedoms of the rest, in order to send me information of the behaviour of the respective sisterhoods.

Ebullit patrui præclarum funus! Et O si
Sub rastro crepet argenti mihi seria dextro
Hercule! pupillumve utinam, quem proximus hæres
Impello, expungam!
Pers. Sat. ii. v. 3.

-Thou know'st to join

No bribe unhallow'd to a prayer of thine;
Thine, which can ev'ry ear's full test abide,
Nor need be mutter'd to the gods aside!
No, thou aloud may'st thy petitions trust;
Thou need'st not whisper, other great ones must.
For few, my friend, few dare like thee be plain,
And prayer's low artifice at shrines disdain.
Few from their pious mumblings dare depart,
And make profession of their inmost heart.
Keep me, indulgent Heaven, through life sincere,
Keep my mind sound, my reputation clear,
These wishes they can speak, and we can hear.
Thus far their wants are audibly express'd;
Then sinks the voice, and muttering groans the rest.
Hear, hear at length, good Hercules, my vow!
O chink some pot of gold beneath my plow!
Could I, O could I to my ravish'd eyes
See my rich uncle's pompous funeral rise;
Or could I once my ward's cold corpse attend;
Then all were mine!'

WHERE Homer represents Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, as persuading his pupil to lay aside his resentment, and give himself up to the entreaties of his countrymen, the poet, in order to make him speak in character, ascribes to him a speech full of those fables and allegories which old men take delight in relating, and which are very proper for instruction. The gods,' says he,suffer themselves to be prevailed upon by entreaties. When mortals have offended them by their transgressions, they appease them by vows and sacrifices. You must know, Achilles, that prayers are the daughters of Jupiter. They are crippled by frequently kneeling, have their faces full of scars and wrinkles, and their eyes always cast towards heaven. They are constant attendants on the goddess Ate, and march behind her. This goddess walks forward with a bold and haughty air; and, being very light of foot, runs through the But as the matter of respect to the world whole earth, grieving and afflicting the which looks on, is carried on, methinks it sons of men. She gets the start of Prayers, is so very easy to be what is in general who always follow her, in order to heal called virtuous, that it need not cost one those persons whom she wounds. He who hour's reflection in a month to deserve that honours these daughters of Jupiter, when appellation. It is pleasant to hear the they draw near to him, receives great benepretty rogues talk of virtue and vice fit from them; but as for him who rejects among each other. She is the laziest them, they entreat their father to give his creature in the world, but I must confess, orders to the goddess Ate, to punish him for strictly virtuous; the peevishest hussy his hardness of heart.' This noble allegory breathing, but as to her virtue, she is with- needs but little explanation; for, whether out blemish. She has not the least charity the goddess Ate signifies injury, as some for any of her acquaintance, but I must have explained it; or guilt in general, as allow her rigidly virtuous.' As the unthink- others; or divine justice, as I am more apt to ing part of the male world call every man think; the interpretation is obvious enough. a man of honour who is not a coward; so the crowd of the other sex terms every woman who will not be a wench, virtuous.

No. 391.]

T.

Thursday, May 29, 1712.
-Non tu prece poscis emaci,
Quæ nisi seductis nequeas committere divis:
At bona pars procerum tacita libabit acerra. [susurros
Haud cuivis promptum est, murmurque humilesque
Tollere de templis; et aperto vivere voto.
Mens bona, fama, fides; hæc clare, et ut audiat hospes,
Illa sibi introrsum et sub lingua immurmurat: O si
VOL. II.

15

I shall produce another heathen fable relating to prayers, which is of a more diverting kind. One would think by some passages in it, that it was composed by Lucian, or at least by some author who has endeavoured to imitate his way of writing; but as dissertations of this nature are more curious than useful, I shall give my reader the fable, without any further inquiries after the author.

Menippus the philosopher was a second time taken up into heaven by Jupiter, when

for his entertainment, he lifted up a trap-he desires me to take his father, who keeps door that was placed by his footstool. At a great estate from him, out of the miseries its rising, there issued through it such a of human life. The old fellow shall live din of cries as astonished the philosopher. till he makes his heart ache, I can tell him Upon his asking what they meant, Jupiter that for his pains." This was followed up told him they were the prayers that were by the soft voice of a pious lady, desiring sent up to him from the earth. Menippus, Jupiter that she might appear amiable and amidst the confusion of voices, which was charming in the sight of her emperor. As so great that nothing less than the ear of the philosopher was reflecting on this exJove could distinguish them, heard the traordinary petition, there blew a gentle words "riches, honour," and "long life," wind through the trap-door which he at repeated in several different tones and lan- first took for a gentle gale of zephyrs, but guages. When the first hubbub of sounds afterwards found it to be a breeze of sighs. was over, the trap-door being left open, They smelt strong of flowers and incense, the voices came up more separate and dis- and were succeeded by most passionate tinct. The first prayer was a very odd one; complaints of wounds and torments, fire it came from Athens, and desired Jupiter and arrows, cruelty, despair and death. to increase the wisdom and beard of his Menippus fancied that such lamentable humble supplicant. Menippus knew it by cries arose from some general_execution, the voice to be the prayer of his friend Li- or from wretches lying under the torture; cander the philosopher. This was succeed- but Jupiter told him that they came up to ed by the petition of one who had just laden him from the isle of Paphos, and that he a ship, and promised Jupiter, if he took every day received complaints of the same care of it, and returned it home again full nature from that whimsical tribe of mortals of riches, he would make him an offering who are called lovers. "I am so trifled of a silver cup. Jupiter thanked him for with," says he, "by this generation of both nothing; and bending down his ear more sexes, and find it so impossible to please attentively than ordinary, heard a voice them, whether I grant or refuse their peticomplaining to him of the cruelty of an tions, that I shall order a western wind for Ephesian widow, and begged him to breed the future to intercept them in their pascompassion in her heart. "This," says sage, and blow them at random upon the Jupiter, "is a very honest fellow. I have earth." The last petition I heard was from received a great deal of incense from him; a very aged man of near a hundred years I will not be so cruel to him as not to hear old, begging but for one year more of life, his prayers." He was then interrupted and then promising to be contented. "This with a whole volley of vows which were is the rarest old fellow!" says Jupiter; "he made for the health of a tyrannical prince has made this prayer to me for above by his subjects, who prayed for him in his twenty years together. When he was but presence. Menippus was surprised after fifty years old, he desired only that he having listened to prayers offered up with might live to see his son settled in the world: so much ardour and devotion, to hear low I granted it. He then begged the same fawhispers from the same assembly, expos-vour for his daughter, and afterwards that tulating with Jove for suffering such a he might see the education of a grandson. tyrant to live, and asking him how his When all this was brought about, he puts thunder could lie idle? Jupiter was so up a petition that he might live to finish a offended with these prevaricating rascals, house he was building. In short, he is an that he took down the first vows, and puffed | unreasonable old cur, and never wants an away the last. The philosopher, seeing a excuse; I will hear no more of him." Upon great cloud mounting upwards, and making which he flung down the trap-door in a its way directly to the trap-door, inquired passion, and was resolved to give no more of Jupiter what it meant. "This," says audiences that day.' Jupiter, "is the smoke of a whole heca- Notwithstanding the levity of this fable, tomb that is offered me by the general of the moral of it very well deserves our atan army, who is very importunate with me tention, and is the same with that which has to let him cut off a hundred thousand men been inculcated by Socrates and Plato, not that are drawn up in array against him. to mention Juvenal and Persius, who have What does the impudent wretch think I each of them made the finest satire in their see in him, to believe that I will make a whole works upon this subject. The vanity sacrifice of so many mortals as good as him- of men's wishes which are the natural self, and all this to his glory forsooth? But prayers of the mind, as well as many of hark!" says Jupiter, there is a voice I those secret devotions which they offer to never heard but in time of danger: 'tis a the Supreme Being, are sufficiently exposed rogue that is shipwrecked in the Ionian by it. Among other reasons for set forms of sea. I saved him on a plank but three days prayer, I have often thought it a very good ago upon his promise to mend his manners; one, that by this means the folly and exthe scoundrel is not worth a groat, and yet travagance of men's desires may be kept has the impudence to offer me a temple, if within due bounds, and not break out in 1 will keep him from sinking.-But yon-absurd and ridiculous petitions on so great der," says he, "is a special youth for you; and solemn an occasion.

Ι.

No. 392.] Friday, May 30, 1712.

Per ambages et ministeria deorum ræcipitandus est liber spiritus.

By fable's aid ungovern'd fancy soars,
And claims the ministry of heav'nly powers.

Petron.

to me, that is was pleasantly said, had I been little enough, she would have hung me at her girdle. The most dangerous rival I had, was a gay empty fellow, who by the strength of a long intercourse with

The transformation of Fidelio into a look- Narcissa, joined to his natural endowments,

ing-glass,

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I was lately at a tea-table, where some young ladies entertained the company with a relation of a coquette in the neighbourhood, who had been discovered practising before her glass. To turn the discourse, which from being witty grew to be malicious, the matron of the family took occasion from the subject to wish that there were to be found amongst men such faithful monitors to dress the mind by, as we consult to adorn the body. She added, that if a sincere friend were miraculously changed into a looking-glass, she should not be ashamed to ask its advice very often. This whimsical thought worked so much upon my fancy the whole evening, that it produced a very odd dream.

had formed himself into a perfect resemblance with her. I had been discarded, had she not observed that he frequently asked my opinion about matters of the last consequence. This made me still more considerable in her eye.

"Though I was eternally caressed by the ladies, such was their opinion of my honour, that I was never envied by the men. A jealous lover of Narcissa one day thought he had caught her in an amorous conversation: for, though he was at such a distance that he could hear nothing, he imagined strange things from her airs and gestures. Sometimes with a serene look she stepped back in a listening posture, and brightened into an innocent smile. Quickly after she swelled into an air of majesty and disdain, then kept her eyes half shut after a languishing manner, then covered her blushes with her hand, breathed a sigh, and seemed ready to sink down. In rushed the furious lover; but how great was his surprise to see no one there but the innocent Fidelio with his back against the wall betwixt two windows!

"It were endless to recount all my adLet me hasten to that which cost me my life, and Narcissa her happiness.

Methought that, as I stood before my glass, the image of a youth of an open ingenuous aspect appeared in it, who with a shrill voice spoke in the following manner: "The looking-glass you see was heretofore a man, even I, the unfortunate Fidelio. I had two brothers, whose deformity in shape was made up by the clearness of their understanding. It must be owned, how-ventures. ever, that (as it generally happens) they had each a perverseness of humour suitable to their distortion of body. The eldest, whose belly sunk in monstrously, was a great coward, and, though his splenetic contracted temper made him take fire immediately, he made objects that beset him appear greater than they were. The second, whose breast swelled into a bold relievo, on the contrary, took great pleasure in lessening every thing, and was perfectly the reverse of his brother. These oddnesses pleased company once or twice, but disgusted when often seen; for which reason, the young gentlemen were sent from court to study mathematics at the university.

"She had the misfortune to have the small-pox, upon which I was expressly forbid her sight, it being apprehended that it would increase her distemper, and that I should infallibly catch it at the first look. As soon as she was suffered to leave her bed, she stole out of her chamber, and found me all alone in an adjoining apartment. She ran with transport to her darling, and without mixture of fear lest I should dislike her. But, oh me! what was her fury when she heard me say, I was afraid and shocked at so loathsome a spectacle! She stepped back, swollen with "I need not acquaint you, that I was very rage, to see if I had the insolence to rewell made, and reckoned a bright polite peat it. I did, with this addition, that gentleman. I was the confidant and darling her ill-timed passion had increased her of all the fair; and if the old and ugly spoke ugliness. Enraged, inflamed, distracted, ill of me, all the world knew it was because she snatched a bodkin, and with all her I scorned to flatter them. No ball, no as-force stabbed me to the heart. Dying, I sembly, was attended till I had been consulted. Flavia coloured her hair_before me, Celia showed me her teeth, Panthea heaved her bosom, Cleora brandished her diamond; I have seen Cloe's foot, and tied artificially the garters of Rhodope.

preserved my sincerity, and expressed the truth though in broken words; and by reproachful grimaces to the last I mimicked the deformity of my murderess.

66

Cupid, who always attends the fair, and pitied the fate of so useful a servant as I was, obtained of the destinies, that my body should remain incorruptible, and retain the qualities my mind had possessed. I immediately lost the figure of a man, and became smooth, polished, and bright, and to this day am the first favourite of the

"It is a general maxim, that those who dote upon themselves can have no violent affection for another; but on the contrary, I found that the women's passion rose for me in proportion to the love they bore to themselves. This was verified in my amour with Narcissa, who was so constant ladies,"

T.

No. 393.]
Saturday, May 31, 1712.
Nescio qua præter solitum dulcedine læti.
Virg. Georg. i. 412.

Unusual sweetness purer joys inspires.

LOOKING Over the letters that have been sent me, I chanced to find the following one, which I received about two years ago from an ingenious friend who was then in Denmark.

'Copenhagen, May 1, 1710.

I through the mind of the beholder, upen
surveying the gay scenes of nature: he has
touched upon it twice or thrice in his Pa-
radise Lost, and describes it very beauti-
fully under the name of 'vernal delight,' in
that passage where he represents the devil
himself as almost sensible of it:

Blossoms and fruits at once a golden hue
Appear'd, with gay enamell'd colours mixt:
On which the sun more glad impress'd his beams
Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow,
When God hath shower'd the earth; so lovely seem'd
That landskip, and of pure now purer air
Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires,
Vernal delight, and joy able to drive
All sadness, but despair, &c.

DEAR SIR,-The spring with you has already taken possession of the fields and woods. Now is the season of solitude, and of moving complaints upon trivial sufferings. Now the griefs of lovers begin to of the creature, and represented the barMany authors have written on the vanity flow, and the wounds to bleed afresh. I, too, at this distance from the softer climates, renness of every thing in this world, and its am not without my discontents at present. stantial happiness. As discourses of this incapacity of producing any solid or subYou may perhaps laugh at me for a most nature are very useful to the sensual and romantic wretch, when I have disclosed to you the occasion of my uneasiness: and yet the bright side of things, and lay forth voluptuous, those speculations which show I cannot help thinking my unhappiness those innocent entertainments which are to real, in being confined to a region which be met with among the several objects that is the very reverse of Paradise. The seasons here are all of them unpleasant, and the encompass us, are no less beneficial to men country quite destitute of rural charms. I of dark and melancholy tempers. It was have not heard a bird sing, nor a brook for this reason that I endeavoured to remurmur, nor a breeze whisper, neither commend a cheerfulness of mind in my two have I been blest with the sight of a flow-last Saturday's papers, and which I would ery meadow, these two years. Every wind still inculcate, not only from the considerahere is a tempest, and every water a tur- tion of ourselves, and of that Being on whom we depend, nor from the general survey of bulent ocean. I hope, when you reflect a little, you will not think the grounds of my that universe in which we are placed at complaint in the least frivolous and unbe- present, but from reflections on the parcoming a man of serious thought; since the ticular season in which this paper is writlove of woods, of fields and flowers, of rivers ten. The creation is a perpetual feast to and fountains, seems to be a passion im- the mind of a good man; every thing he sees cheers and delights him. Providence has planted in our natures the most early of any, even before the fair sex had a being. I imprinted so many smiles on nature, that it is impossible for a mind which is not sunk am, sir, &c. in more gross and sensual delights, to take a survey of them without several secret sensations of pleasure. The psalmist has, in several of his divine poems, celebrated those beautiful and agreeable scenes which make the heart glad, and produce in it that vernal delight which I have before taken notice of.

Could I transport myself with a wish, from one country to another, I should choose to pass my winter in Spain, my spring in Italy, my summer in England, and my autumn in France. Of all these seasons there is none that can vie with the spring for beauty and delightfulness. It bears the same figure among the seasons of the year, that the morning does among the divisions of the day, or youth among the stages of life. The English summer is pleasanter than that of any other country in Europe, on no other account but because it has a greater mixture of spring in it. The mildness of our climate, with those frequent refreshments of dews and rains that fall among us, keep up a perpetual cheerfulness in our fields, and fill the hottest months of the year with a lively verdure.

In the opening of the spring, when all nature begins to recover herself, the same animal pleasure which makes the birds sing, and the whole brute creation rejoice, rises very sensibly in the heart of man. I know none of the poets who have observed so well as Milton those secret overflowings of gladness which diffuse themselves

Natural philosophy quickens this taste of the creation, and renders it not only pleasing to the_imagination, but to the understanding. It does not rest in the murmur of brooks and the melody of birds, in the shade of groves and woods, or in the embroidery of fields and meadows; but considers the several ends of Providence which are served by them, and the wonders of divine wisdom which appear in them. It heightens the pleasures of the eye, and raises such a rational admiration in the soul as is little inferior to devotion.

It is not in the power of every one to offer up this kind of worship to the great Author of nature, and to indulge these more refined meditations of heart, which are doubtless highly acceptable in his sight; I shall therefore conclude this short essay on that pleasure which the mind naturally

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