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making love, which I shall here give my | My fair one is gone, and my joys are all drown'd, And my heart-I am sure it weighs more than a pound. reader in Mr. Dryden's translation.

'Page the eleventh.

"Thus love in theatres did first improve,
And theatres are still the scene of love;
Nor shun the chariots, and the courser's race;
The Circus is no inconvenient place.
Nor need is there of talking on the hand,
Nor nods, nor signs, which lovers understand;
But boldly next the fair your seat provide,
Close as you can to hers, and side by side,
Pleas'd or unpleas'd, no matter, crowding sit;
For so the laws of public shows permit.
Then find occasion to begin discourse,

Inquire whose chariot this, and whose that horse;
To whatsoever side she is inclin'd,
Suit all your inclinations to her mind.

Like what she likes, from thence your court begin,
And, whom she favours, wish that he may win."

'Again, page the sixteenth,

"O when will come the day by heaven design'd. When thou, the best and fairest of mankind, Drawn by white horses, shall in triumph ride, With conquer'd slaves attending on thy side; Slaves that no longer can be safe in flight, O glorious object! O surprising sight! O day of public joy, too good to end in night! On such a day, if thou, and next to thee Some beauty sits, the spectacle to see; If she inquires the names of conquer'd kings, Of mountains, rivers, and their hidden springs; Answer to all thou know'st; and if need be, Of things unknown seem to speak knowingly: This is Euphrates, crown'd with reeds; and there Flows the swift Tigris, with his sea-green hair. Invent new names of things unknown before; Call this Armenia, that the Caspian shore; Call this a Mede, and that the Parthian youth; Talk probably: no matter for the truth."

No. 603.] Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim. Virg. Ecl. viii. 68. -Restore my charms, My lingering Daphnis, to my longing arms.-Dryden. THE following copy of verses comes from one of my correspondents,* and has something in it so original, that I do not much dcubt but it will divert my readers. †

Wednesday, October 6, 1714.

I.

'My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent, When Phoebe went with me wherever I went ;t Ten thousand sweet pleasures I felt in my breast: Sure never fond shepherd like Colin was blest! But now she has gone, and has left me behind, What a marvellous change on a sudden I find! When things were as fine as could possibly be, I thought 'twas the spring; but, alas! it was she. II.

'With such a companion to tend a few sheep, To rise up and play, or to lie down and sleep: I was so good-humour'd, so cheerful and gay, My heart was as light as a feather all day. But now I so cross and so peevish am grown; So strangely uneasy as never was known.

* Mr. John Byron, author of the two papers on dreaming, No. 586 and 593.

"It has been said, on good authority, that the Phoebe of this pastoral was Joanna, the daughter of Dr. Bentley, and that it was written, not so much from affection to the daughter, as with the aim of securing the interest of the doctor, in promoting the author's views with regard to the fellowship for which, at the period of its composition, he was a candidate "

Drake's Essays, vol. iii. p. 216. Ansty made a most happy parody of these two lines in his Bath Guide.

"My time, my dear mother's, been wretchedly spent, With a gripe or a hickup wherever I went."

III.

The fountain that wont to run swiftly along,
And dance to soft murmurs the pebbles among;
Thou know'st little Cupid, if Phoebe was there,
'Twas pleasure to look at, 'twas music to hear:
But now she is absent, I walk by its side,
And still as it murmurs do nothing but chide.
Must you be so cheerful, when I go in pain?

Peace there with your bubbling, and hear me complain.
IV.

'When my lambkins around me would oftentimes play,

And when Phoebe and I were as joyful as they,
How pleasant their sporting, how happy their time.
When spring, love, and beauty, were all in their prime!
But now in their frolics when by me they pass,

I fling at their fleeces a handful of grass;
Be still, then I cry, for it makes me quite mad
To see you so merry while I am so sad.

V.

'My dog I was ever well pleased to see Come wagging his tail to my fair-one and me; And Phoebe was pleas'd too, and to my dog said, Come hither, poor fellow; and patted his head. But now, when he's fawning, I with a sour look Cry, Sirrah! and give him a blow with my crook. And I'll give him another; for why should not Tray Be as dull as his master, when Phoebe's away?

VI.

'When walking with Phoebe, what sights have I seen! How fair was the flower, how fresh was the green! What a lovely appearance the trees and the shade, The corn-fields and hedges, and every thing made! But now she has left me, though all are still there, They none of them now so delightful appear: "Twas nought but the magic, I find, of her eyes, Made so many beautiful prospects arise.

VII.

'Sweet music went with us both all the wood through, The lark, linnet, throstle, and nightingale too; Winds over us whisper'd, flocks by us did bleat, And chirp went the grasshopper under our feet. But now she is absent, though still they sing on, The woods are but lonely, the melody's gone: Her voice in the concert, as now I have found, Gave every thing else its agreeable sound. VII.

Rose, what is become of thy delicate hue? And where is the violet's beautiful blue? Does aught of its sweetness the blossom beguile? That meadow, those daisies, why do they not smile? Ah! rivals, I see what it was that you dress'd And made yourselves fine for; a place in her breast: You put on your colours to pleasure her eye, To be pluck'd by her hand, on her bosom to die.

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THE desire of knowing future events, is one of the strongest inclinations in the mind of man. Indeed, an ability of foreseeing probable accidents is what, in the language of men, is called wisdom and prudence: but, not satisfied with the light that reason holds out, mankind hath endeavoured to penetrate more compendiously into futurity. Magic, oracles, omens, lucky hours, and the various arts of superstition, owe their rise to this powerful cause. As this principle is founded in self-love, every man is sure to be solicitous in the first place about his own fortune, the course of his life, and the time and manner of his death.

If we consider that we are free agents, we shall discover the absurdity of such inquiries. One of our actions, which we might have performed or neglected, is the cause of another that succeeds it, and so the whole chain of life is linked together. Pain, poverty, or infamy, are the natural product of vicious and imprudent acts; as the contrary blessings are of good ones; so that we cannot suppose our lot to be determined without impiety. A great enhancement of pleasure arises from its being unexpected; and pain is doubled by being foreseen. Upon all these, and several other accounts, we ought to rest satisfied in this portion bestowed on us; to adore the hand that hath fitted every thing to our nature, and hath not more displayed his goodness in our knowledge than in our ignorance.

along, and I found in myself a strong inclination to mingle in the train. My eyes quickly singled out some of the most splendid figures. Several in rich caftans and glittering turbans bustled through the throng, and trampled over the bodies of those they threw down; until, to my great surprise, I found that the great pace they went only hastened them to a scaffold or a bow-string. Many beautiful damsels on the other side moved forward with great gayety; some danced until they fell all along; and others painted their faces until they lost their noses. A tribe of creatures with busy looks falling into a fit of laughter at the misfortunes of the unhappy ladies, I turned my eyes upon them. They were each of them filling his pockets with gold and jewels, and when there was no room left for more, these wretches, looking round with fear and horror, pined away before my face with famine and discontent.

The prospect of human misery struck me dumb for some miles. Then it was, that to disburden my mind, I took pen and ink, and did every thing that has since happened under my office as Spectator. While I was employing myself for the good of mankind, I was surprised to meet with very unsuitable returns from my fellowcreatures. Never was poor author so beset by pamphleteers, who sometimes marched directly against me, but oftener shot at me from strong bulwarks, or rose up suddenly It is not unworthy observation, that super-in ambush. They were of all characters stitious inquiries into future events prevail and capacities, some with ensigns of digmore or less, in proportion to the improve-nity, and others in liveries;* but what most ment of liberal arts and useful knowledge surprised me was to see two or three in in the several parts of the world. Accord-black gowns among my enemies. It was no ingly, we find that magical incantations remain in Lapland; in the more remote parts of Scotland they have their second sight; and several of our own countrymen have seen abundance of fairies. In Asia this credulity is strong; and the greatest part of refined learning there consists in the knowledge of amulets, talismans, occult numbers, and the like.

small trouble to me, sometimes to have a man come up to me with an angry face, and reproach me for having lampooned him, when I had never seen or heard of him in my life. With the ladies it was otherwise: many became my enemies for not being particularly pointed out; as there were others who resented the satire which they imagined I had directed against them. When I was at Grand Cairo, I fell into My great comfort was in the company of the acquaintance of a good-natured mus- half a dozen friends, who, I found since, sulman, who promised me many good offices were the club which I have so often menwhich he designed to do me when he be-tioned in my papers. I laughed often at came the prime minister, which was a fortune bestowed on his imagination by a doctor very deep in the curious sciences. At his repeated solicitations I went to learn my destiny of this wonderful sage. For a small sum I had his promise, but was desired to wait in a dark apartment until he had run through the preparatory ceremonies. Having a strong propensity, even then, to dreaming, I took a nap upon the sofa where I was placed, and had the following vision, the particulars whereof I picked up the other day among my papers.

I found myself in an unbounded plain, where methought the whole world, in several habits and with different tongues, was assembled. The multitude glided swiftly

Sir Roger in my sleep, and was the more diverted with Will Honeycomb's gallantries, (when we afterwards became acquainted,) because I had foreseen his marriage with a farmer's daughter. The regret which arose in my mind upon the death of my companions, my anxieties for the public, and the many calamities still fleeting before my eyes, made me repent my curiosity; when the magician entered the room, and awakened me, by telling me (when it was too late,) that he was just going to begin.

*This is pointed at the hirelings employed by the ministry in the last years of the queen's reign: Dr. worth, Mrs. Manley, &c Swift, Prior, Atterbury, Dr. Friend, Dr. King, Mr. Olds

N. B. I have only delivered the prophecy of that part of my life which is past, it being inconvenient to divulge the second part until a more proper opportunity.

No. 605.] Monday, October 11, 1714.

Exuerint sylvestrem animum; cultuque frequenti,
In quascunque voces artes, haud tarda sequentur.

Virg. Georg. ii. 51.

-They change their savage mind,
Their wildness lose, and, quitting nature's part,
Obey the rules and discipline of art.-Dryden.

HAVING perused the following letter, and finding it to run upon the subject of love, I referred it to the learned casuist, whom I have retained in my service for speculations of that kind. He returned it to me the next morning with his report annexed to it, with both of which I shall here present my reader.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-Finding that you have entertained a useful person in your service in quality of love-casuist, I apply myself to you under a very great difficulty, that hath for some months perplexed me. I have a couple of humble servants, one of which I have no aversion to; the other I think of very kindly. The first hath the reputation of a man of good sense, and is one of those people that your sex are apt to value. My spark is reckoned a coxcomb among the men, but is a favourite of the ladies. If I marry the man of worth, as they call him, I shall oblige my parents, and improve my fortune; but with my dear beau I promise myself happiness, although not a jointure. Now I would ask you, whether I should consent to lead my life with a man that I have only no objection to, or with him against whom all objections to me appear frivolous. I am determined to follow the casuist's advice, and I dare say he will not put me upon so serious a thing as matrimony contrary to my inclination. I am, &c. FANNY FICKLE.

'P. S. I forgot to tell you, that the pretty gentleman is the most complaisant creature in the world, and is always of my mind; but the other, forsooth, fancies he has as much wit as myself, slights my lap dog, and hath the insolence to contradict me when he thinks I am not in the right. About half an hour ago, he maintained to my face that a patch always implies a pimple.'

As I look upon it to be my duty rather to side with the parents than the daughter, I shall propose some considerations to my gentle querist, which may incline her to comply with those under whose direction she is; and at the same time convince her that it is not impossible but she may in time, have a true affection for him who is at present indifferent to her; or, to use the old family maxim, that, if she marries first, love will come after.'

The only objection that she seems to insinuate against the gentleman proposed to her, is his want of complaisance, which I perceive she is very willing to return. Now I can discover, from this very circumstance, that she and her lover, whatever they may think of it, are very good friends in their hearts. It is difficult to determine whether love delights more in giving pleasure or pain. Let Miss Fickle ask her own heart, if she doth not take a secret pride in making this man of good sense look very silly. Hath she ever been better pleased than when her behaviour hath made her lover ready to hang himself; or doth she' ever rejoice more than when she thinks she hath driven him to the very brink of a purling stream? Let her consider, at the same time, that it is not impossible but her lover may have discovered her tricks, and hath 2 mind to give her as good as she brings. I remember a handsome young baggage that treated a hopeful Greek of my acquaintance, just come from Oxford, as if he had been a barbarian. The first week after she had fixed him, she took a pinch of snuff out of his rival's box, and apparently touched the enemy's little finger. She became a professed enemy to the arts and sciences, and scarce ever wrote a letter to him without wilfully misspelling his name. The young scholar, to be even with her, railed at coquettes as soon as he had got the word; and did not want parts to turn into ridicule her men of wit and pleasure of the town. After having irritated one another for the space of five months, she made an assignation with him fourscore miles from London. But, as he was very well acquainted with her pranks, he took a journey the quite contrary way. Accordingly they met, quarrelled, and in a few days were married. Their former hostilities are now the subject of their mirth, being content at present with that part of love only which bestows pleasure.

Women who have been married some after them a numerous train of followers, time, not having it in their heads to draw find their satisfaction in the possession of one man's heart. I know very well that ladies in their bloom desire to be excused in this particular. But, when time hath worn out their natural vanity, and taught them discretion, their fondness settles on its proper object. And it is probably for this reason that, among husbands, you will find more that are fond of women beyond their prime, than of those who are actually in the insolence of beauty. My reader will apply the same observation to the other sex.

I need not insist upon the necessity of their pursuing one common interest, and their united care for their children; but shall only observe, by the way, that married persons are both more warm in their love, and more hearty in their hatred than any others whatsoever. Mutual favours and obligations, which may be supposed to

be greater here than in any other state, naturally beget an intense affection in generous minds. As, on the contrary, persons who have bestowed such favours have a particular bitterness in their resentments,

with him, made her his first minister of state, and continued true to her alone, until his marriage with the beautiful Elfrida,

when they think themselves ill-treated by No. 606.] Wednesday, October 13, 1714. those of whom they have deserved so much.

Besides, Miss Fickle may consider, that as there are often many faults concealed before marriage, so there are sometimes many virtues unobserved.

-longum cantu solata laborem Arguto conjux percurrit pectine telas.

-mean time at home

Virg. Georg. i. 294.

The good wife singing plies the various loom. To this we may add the great efficacy of nieces under my direction, who so often run 'MR. SPECTATOR,-I have a couple of custom and constant conversation to produce a mutual friendship and benevolence gadding abroad, that I do not know where in two persons. It is a nice reflection, to have them. Their dress, their tea, and which I have heard a friend of mine make, their visits, take up all their time, and they that you may be sure a woman loves a man, go to bed as tired with doing nothing as I when she uses his expressions, tell his sto-am after quilting a whole under-petticoat. ries, or imitates his manner. The only time they are not idle is while This gives a secret delight; for imitation is a kind of they read your Spectators; which being artless flattery, and mightily favours the dedicated to the interest of virtue, I desire powerful principle of self-love. It is cer- you to recommend the long neglected art of needle-work. Those hours which in this tain that married persons, who are possessed with a mutual esteem, not only catch the air and way of talk from one another, but fall into the same traces of thinking and liking. Nay, some have carried the remark so far as to assert, that the features of man and wife grow, in time, to resemble one another. Let my fair correspondent, therefore, consider, that the gentleman recommended will have a good deal of her own face in two or three years; which she must not expect from the beau, who is too full of his dear self to copy after another. And I dare appeal to her own judgment, if that person will not be the handsomest that is the most like herself.

We have a remarkable instance to our present purpose in the history of king Edgar, which I shall here relate, and leave it with my fair correspondent to be applied to herself.

age are thrown away on dress, play, visits, and the like, were employed, in my time, in writing out receipts, or working beds, chairs, and hangings, for the family. For my part, I have plied my needle these fifty years, and by my good will would never have it out of my hand. It grieves my heart to see a couple of proud idle flirts sipping their tea, for a whole afternoon, in a room hung round with the industry of their great grandmother. Pray, sir, take the laudable mystery of embroidery into your serious consideration, and, as you have a great deal of the virtue of the last age in you, continue your endeavours to reform the present. I am, &c.'

In obedience to the commands of my venerable correspondent, I have duly weighed this important subject, and promise myself, from the arguments here laid down, that all the fine ladies of England will be ready, as soon as their mourning is over,* to appear covered with the work of their own hands.

them, exempt from public business to pass their hours in imitating fruits and flowers, and transplanting all the beauties of nature into their own dress, or raising a new creation in their closets and apartments! How pleasing is the amusement of walking among the shades and groves planted by themselves, in surveying heroes slain by their needle, or little cupids which they have brought into the world without pain!

This great monarch, who is so famous in British story, fell in love, as he made his progress through his kingdom, with a certain duke's daughter, who lived near Win- What a delightful entertainment must it chester, and was the most celebrated beauty be to the fair-sex, whom their native moof the age. His importunities and the vio-desty and the tenderness of men towards lence of his passion were so great, that the mother of the young lady promised him to bring her daughter to his bed the next night, though in her heart she abhorred so infamous an office. It was no sooner dark than she conveyed into his room, a young maid of no disagreeable figure, who was one of her attendants, and did not want address to improve the opportunity for the advancement of her fortune. She made so good use of her time, that when she offered This is, methinks, the most proper way to rise a little before day, the king could by wherein a lady can show a fine genius; and no means think of parting with her; so that, I cannot forbear wishing that several wrifinding herself under a necessity of disco- ters of that sex had chosen to apply themvering who she was, she did it in so hand-selves rather to tapestry than rhyme. some a manner, that his majesty was ex-Your pastoral poetesses may vent their ceeding gracious to her, and took her ever fancy in rural landscapes, and place desafter under his protection: insomuch, that

our chronicles tell us, he carried her along * The general mourning on the death of queen Anne.

pairing shepherds under silken willows, | ingly, the chaste Penelope having, as she or drown them in a stream of mohair. thought, lost Ulysses at sea, she employed The heroic writers may work up battles as her time in preparing a winding-sheet for successfully, and inflame them with gold Laertes, the father of her husband. The or stain them with crimson. Even those who story of her web being very famous, and have only a turn to a song, or an epigram, yet not sufficiently known in its several cirmay put many valuable stitches into a purse, cumstances, I shall give it to my reader, as and crowd a thousand graces into a pair of Homer makes one of her wooers relate it, garters.

If I may, without breach of good manners, imagine that any pretty creature is void of genius, and would perform her part herein but very awkwardly, I must nevertheless insist upon her working, if it be only to keep her out of harm's way. Another argument for busying good women in works of fancy is, because it takes them off from scandal, the usual attendant of tea-tables, and all other inactive scenes of life. While they are forming their birds and beasts, their neighbours will be allowed to be the fathers of their own children; and whig and tory will be but seldom mentioned where the great dispute is, whether blue or red is the more proper colour. How much greater glory would Sophronia do the general, if she would choose rather to work the battle of Blenheim in tapestry,

'Sweet hope she gave to every youth apart,
With well-taught looks, and a deceitful heart:
A web she wove of many a slender twine,
My youths, she cried, my lord but newly dead,
Of curious texture, and perplext design;
Forbear a while to court my widow'd bed,
Till I have wove, as solemn vows require,

This web, a shroud for poor Ulysses' sire.
His limbs, when fate the hero's soul demands,

Shall claim this labour of his daughter's hands:
Lest all the dames of Greece my name despise,
While the great king without a covering lies.
All day she sped the long laborious toil:
Thus she. Nor did my friends mistrust the guile :
But when the burning lamps supply'd the sun,
Each night unravell'd what the day begun.
The fourth her maidens told th' amazing tale,
Three live-long summers did the fraud prevail;
These eyes beheld, as close I took my stand,
The backward labours of her faithless hand:
Till watch'd at length, and press'd on every side,

Her task she ended, and commenc'd a bride,'

than signalize herself with so much vehe- No. 607.] Friday, October 15, 1714.
mence against those who are Frenchmen
in their hearts!

A third reason that I shall mention, is the profit that is brought to the family where these pretty arts are encouraged. It is manifest that this way of life not only keeps fair ladies from running out into expenses, but is at the same time an actual improvement. How memorable would that matron be, who shall have it subscribed upon her monument, 'That she wrought out the whole Bible in tapestry, and died in a good old age, after having covered three hundred yards of wall in the mansion-house!'

The premises being considered, I humbly submit the following proposals to all mothers in Great Britain:

1. That no young virgin whatsoever be allowed to receive the addresses of her first lover, but in a suit of her own embroidering. 2. That before every fresh humble servant, she be obliged to appear with a new stomacher at the least.

3. That no one be actually married until she hath the child-bed pillows, &c. ready stitched, as likewise the mantle for the boy quite finished.

These laws, if I mistake not, would effectually restore the decayed art of needlework, and make the virgins of Great Britain exceedingly nimble-fingered in their busi

ness.

Dicite lo Paan, et Io bis dicite Pean: Decidit in casses prada petita meos. Ovid Ars Amor. Lib. 1. 1. Now Io Pæan sing, now wreaths prepare, And with repeated Ios fill the air: The prey is fallen in my successful toils.-Anon. 'MR. SPECTATOR,--Having in your paper of Monday last published my report on the case of Mrs. Fanny Fickle, wherein I have taken notice, that love comes after marriage; I hope your readers are satisfied of this truth, that as love generally produces matrimony, so it often happens that matrimony produces love.

'It perhaps requires more virtue to make a good husband or wife than what go to the finishing any the most shining character whatsoever.

Discretion seems absolutely necessary; and accordingly we find that the best husbands have been most famous for their wisdom. Homer, who hath drawn a perfect pattern of a prudent man, to make it the more complete, hath celebrated him for the just returns of fidelity and truth to his Penelope; insomuch that he refused the caresses of a goddess for her sake; and, to use the expression of the best of Pagan authors, " Vetulam suam prætulit immortalitati," his old woman was dearer to him than immortality.

Virtue is the next necessary qualificaThere is a memorable custom of the tion for this domestic character, as it na Grecian ladies, in this particular, preserved turally produces constancy and mutual in Homer, which I hope will have a very esteem. Thus Brutus and Porcia were good effect with my country-women. A more remarkable for virtue and affection widow, in ancient times, could not, without than any others of the age in which they indecency, receive a second husband, until lived.

she had woven a shroud for her deceased Good-nature is a third necessary inlord, or the next of kin to him. Accord-gredient in the marriage state, without VOL. II.

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