seems raised upon that passage in the Iliad, where bellishment, like the authors above-mentioned; but two deities are described as perching on the top makes an artful use of it for the proper carrying of an oak in the shape of vultures. on of his fable, and for the breaking off the com

His planting himself at the ear of Eve under bat between the two warriors, who were upon the the form of a toad, in order to produce vain point of engaging. To this we may further add, dreams and imaginations, is a circumstance of the that Milton is the more justified in this passage, as same nature; as his starting up in his own form is we find the same noble allegory in holy writ, where wonderfully fine, both in the literal description, a wicked prince, some few hours before he was and in the moral which is concealed under it. His assaulted and slain, is said to have been 'weighed

answer upon his being discovered, and demanded to give an account of himself, is conformable to the pride and intrepidity of his character:

'Know ye not then,' said Satan, fill'd with scorn, 'Know ye not me! Ye knew me once no mate For you, there sitting where you durst not soar; Not to know me, argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng

Zephon's rebuke, with the influence it had on Satan, is exquisitely graceful and moral. Satan is afterwards led away to Gabriel, the chief of the guardian angels, who kept watch in Paradise. His disdainful behaviour on this occasion is so re

in the scales, and to have been found wanting."
I must here take notice, under the head of the
machines, that Uriel's gliding down to the earth
upon a sun-beam, with the poet's device to make
him descend, as well in his return to the sun as in
his coming from it, is a prettiness that might have
been admired in a little fanciful poet, but seems
below the genius of Milton. The description of
the host of armed angels walking their nightly
round in Paradise, is of another spirit:

So saying, on he led his radiant files,
Dazzling the moon;'

markable a beauty, that the most ordinary reader as that account of the hymns which our first pacannot but take notice of it. Gabriel's discover- rents used to hear them sing in these their miding his approach at a distance is drawn with great night walks, is altogether divine, and inexpressibly strength and liveliness of imagination:

O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet
Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,
And with them comes a third of regal port,
But faded splendour wan; who by his gait
And fierce demeanour seems the prince of hell:
Not likely to part hence without contest;
Stand firm, for in his look defiance low'rs.'

The conference between Gabriel and Satan abounds with sentiments proper for the occasion, and suitable to the persons of the two speakers. Satan clothing himself with terror when he prepares for the embat is truly sublime, and at least eq ual to Homer's description of Discord celebrated by Longinus, or to that of Fame in Virgil, who are both represented with their feet standing upon the earth, and their heads reaching above the clouds:

While thus he spake, th' angelie squadron bright
Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round
With ported spears, &c.

On th' other side Satan alarm'd,
Collecting all his might dilated stood
Like Teneriff or Atlas, unremov'd:
His stature reach'd the sky, and on his crest
Sat horror plum'd;'

I must here take notice, that Milton is every

where full of hints, and sometimes literal transla

amusing to the imagination.

We are, in the last place, to consider the parts which Adam and Eve act in the fourth book. The description of them, as they first appeared to Satan, is exquisitely drawn, and sufficient to make the fallen angel gaze upon them with all that astonishment, and those emotions of envy, in which he is represented:

Two of far nobler shape erect and tall,
Godlike ereer! with native honour clad
In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all;
And worthy seem'd: for in their looks divine
The image of their glorious Maker shone,
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure;
Severe, but in true filial freedom plac'd:
For contemplation he and valour form'd,
For softness she and sweet attractive grace;
He for God only, she for God in him.
His fair large front, and eye sublime, declar'd
Absolute rule; and hyacinthin locks
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad.
She, as a veil, down to her slender waist
Her unadorned golden tresses wore
Disshevel'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd.
So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight
Of God or angel, for they thought no ill:
So hand in hand they pass'd, the loveliest pair
That ever since in love's embraces met.'

There is a fine spirit of poetry in the lines which
follow, wherein they are described as sitting on a
mixed assembly of animals.
bed of flowers by the side of a fountain, amidst a

tions, taken from the greatest of the Greek and The speeches of these two first lovers flow Latin poets. But this I may reserve for a discourse equally from passion and sincerity. The profes by itself, because I would not break the thread of sions they make to one another are full of warmth; these speculations, that are designed for English but at the same time founded on truth. In a word, readers, with such reflections as would be of no they are the gallantries of Paradise :

use but to the learned.

I must, however, observe in this place, that the breaking off the combat between Gabriel and Satan, by the hanging out of the golden scales in heaven, is a refinement upon Homer's thought, who tells us, that before the battle between Hector and Achilles, Júpiter weighed the event of it in a pair of scales. The reader may see the whole passage in the 22d Iliad.

Virgil, before the last decisive combat, describes Jupiter in the same manner, as weighing the fates of Turnus and Æneas. Milton, though he fetched this beautiful circumstance from the Iliad and Eneid, does not only insert it as a poetical em.

When Adam first of men

"Sole partner and sole part of all these joys,
Dearer thyself than all; -

But let us ever praise him, and extol
His bounty, following our delightful task
To prune these growing plants, and tend these flow's;
Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet."
To whom thus Eve reply'd. "O thou, for whom
And from whom I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
And without whom am to no end, my guide
And head, what thou hast said is just and right,
For we to him indeed all praises owe,
And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou
Like consort to thyself canst no where find," &c.

Dan. v. 27.

above-menti the proper Breaking of the

rs, who were us

we may arias

fied in this

ory in boly re

hours befre

have been'

en found wasi

ander the beds

ng down to poet's devices

eturn to

iness that

iful poet,

The desc

alking the

her spurt:

la,

in these

me, and

The remaining part of Eve's speech, in which she gives an account of herself upon her first creation, and the manner in which she was brought to Adam, is, I think, as beautiful a passage as any in Milton, or perhaps in any other poet whatsoever. These passages are all worked off with so much art, that they are capable of pleasing the most delicate reader, without offending the most

severe.

That day I oft remember, when from sleep, &c.'

A poet of less judgment and invention than this great author, would have found it very difficult to have filled these tender parts of the poem with sentiments proper for a state of innocence; to have described the warmth of love, and the professions of it, without artifice or hyperbole; to have made the man speak the most endearing things, without descending from his natural dignity, and the woman receiving them without de

Naked met his under the flowing gold
Of her loose tresses hid; he in delight
Both of her beauty and submissive charms
Smil'd with superior love'

The poet adds, that the devil turned away with

envy at the sight of so much happiness.

We have another view of our first parents in their evening discourses, which is full of pleasing images and sentiments suitable to their condition and characters. The speech of Eve, in particular, is dressed up in such a soft and natural turn of words and sentiments, as cannot be sufficiently admired.

I shall close my reflections upon this book, with observing the masterly transition which the poet makes to their evening worship in the following

lines:

Thus at their shady lodge arriv'd, both stood,
Both turn'd, and under open sky ador'd
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heav'n,
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole: "Thou also mad' st the night,
Maker omnipotent, and thou the day," &c.

parting from the modesty of her character; in a which or word, to adjust the prerogatives of wisdom and beauty, and make each appear to the other in its Most of the modern heroic poets have imitated proper force and loveliness. This mutual subordi- the ancients in beginning a speech without prenation of the two sexes is wonderfully kept up in mising, that the person said thus or thus; but as it the whole poem, as particularly in the speech of is easy to imitate the ancients in the omission of Eve I have before mentioned, and upon the con- two or three words, it requires judgment to do it clusion of it in the following lines :

consider

e fourth b

rst appeas suticed! m with

So spake our general mother, and with eyes
Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
And meek surrender, half embracing lean'd
On our first father; half her swelling breast

in such a manner as they shall not be missed, and that the speech may begin naturally without them. There is a fine instance of this kind out of Homer, in the twenty-third chapter of Longinus.

ADDISON.

L

EARL OF WHARTON.*

MY LORD,

VOL. V.

N° 322. MONDAY, MARCH 10, 1711-12.

-Ad humum mærore gravi deducit et angit. HOR, Ars Poet. ver. 110. -Grief dejects, and wrings the tortur'd soul. ROSCOMMON. THE author of the Spectator, having prefixed be- IT is often said, after a man has heard a story with extraordinary circumstances, 'it is a very fore each of his volumes the name of some great good one if it be true: but as for the following person to whom he has particular obligations, lays relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. his claim to your lordship's patronage upon the It is told with such simplicity, and there are so same account. I must confess, my Lord, had not many artless touches of distress in it, that I fear I already received great instances of your favour, it comes too much from the heart.

I should have been afraid of submitting a work of

this nature to your perusal. You are so thoroughly acquainted with the characters of men, and all the parts of human life, that it is impossible for the least misrepresentation of them to escape your no

'MR. SPECTATOR,

SOME years ago it happened that I lived in the same house with a young gentleman of merit; with whose good qualities I was so much taken, as to make it my endeavour to show as many as I was able in myself. Familiar converse improved ge

neral civilities into an unfeigned passion on both

tice. It is your lordship's particular distinction, that you are master of the whole compass of busi- sides. He watched an opportunity to declare ness, and have signalized yourself in all the dif-himself to me; and I, who could not expect a man ferent scenes of it. We admire some for the dig of so great an estate as his, received his addresses nity, others for the popularity of their behaviour; in such terms as gave him no reason to believe I some for their clearness of judgment, others for was displeased with them, though I did nothing to make him think me more easy than was decent. their happiness of expression; some for the laying His father was a very hard worldly man, and of schemes, and others for the putting of them in proud; so that there was no reason to believe he execution. It is your lordship only who enjoys would easily be brought to think there was any these several talents united, and that too in as great thing in any woman's person or character that could perfection as others possess them singly. Your balance the disadvantage of an unequal fortune. enemies acknowledge this great extent in your In the mean time, the son continued his application to me, and omitted no occasion of demonstrating lordship's character, at the same time that they the most disinterested passion imaginable to me; use their utmost industry and invention to derogate and in plain direct terms offered to marry me prifrom it. But it is for your honour that those who vately, and keep it so till he should be so happy are now your enemies were always so. You have as to gain his father's approbation, or become pos acted in so much consistency with yourself, and sessed of his estate. I passionately loved him, promoted the interests of your country in so uni- and you will believe I did not deny such a one form a manner, that even those who would misre. what was my interest also to grant. However, I was not so young as not to take the precaution of present your generous designs for the public good, carrying with me a faithful servant who had been cannot but approve the steadiness and intrepidity also my mother's maid, to be present at the cere with which you pursue them. It is a most sensible mony. When that was over, I demanded a certi pleasure to me, that I have this opportunity of ficate, signed by the minister, my husband, and professing myself one of your great admirers, and, the servant I just now spoke of. After our nupa very particular manner, MY LORD,

1

tials, we conversed together very familiarly in the same house; but the restraints we were generally under, and the interviews we had being stolen and interrupted, made our behaviour to each other have rather the impatient fondness which is visible in lovers, than the regular and gratified affection

Your lordship's most obliged
And most obedient, humble servant,
THE SPECTATOR.

* Thomas Wharton; appointed by King William comptroller which is to be observed in man and wife. This ob'of the household, justice in eyre south of Trent, and lord lieute-servation made the father very anxious for his son, nant of Oxfordshire; created Viscount Winchindon in the county and press him to a match he had in his eye for him. of Bucks, and Earl of Wharton in the county of Westmoreland, To relieve my husband from this importunity, and December 1706; appointed lord lieutenant of Ireland, November conceal the secret of our marriage, which I had 1708 (when Mr. Addison bere bir secretary); lord privy seal, reason to know would not be long in my powerin September 1714; and, in December of the same year, created Marquis of Wharton and Malmesbury in England, and Earl of town, it was resolved that I should retire into a re Rathfarnham and Marquis Catherlough in Ireland. He died mote place in the country, and converse under April 1715, in the 76th year of his age, and was succeeded by his feigned names by letter. We long continued this son Philip, whom George I. in 1718, created Duke of Wharton, way of commerce; and I with my needle, a few in consideration of the merits of his father. books, and reading over and over my husband's

ARCH 10,

dederit et ang

HOR. As

the carter'dand ROSCOMMON

man has he

Instances,

letters, passed my time in a resigned expectation/
of better days. Be pleased to take notice, that
within four months after I left my husband I was
delivered of a daughter, who died within a few
hours after her birth. This accident, and the re-
tired manner of life I led, gave criminal hopes to
a neighbouring brute of a country gentleman,
whose folly was the source of all my affliction.
This rustic is one of those rich clowns who supply

the want of all manner of breeding by the neglect THE journal with which I presented my reader on of it, and with noisy mirth, half understanding, Tuesday last has brought me in several letters, and ample fortune, force themselves upon persons with accounts of many private lives cast into that and things, without any sense of time or place. form. I have the 'Rake's Journal, the 'Sot's The poor ignorant people where I lay concealed, Journal,' the 'Whoremaster's Journal, and, among and now passed for a widow, wondered I could be several others, a very curious piece, intituled, The so shy and strange, as they called it, to the squire; Journal of a Mohock. By these instances I find and were bribed by him to admit him whenever he that the intention of my last Tuesday's paper has thought fit: I happened to be sitting in a little been mistaken by many of my readers. I did not parlour which belonged to my own part of the design so much to expose vice as idleness, and house, and musing over one of the fondest of my aimed at those persons who pass away their time husband's letters, in which I always kept the cer- rather in trifles and impertinence, than in crimes ty, and thert tificate of my marriage, when this rude fellow and immoralities. Offences of this latter kind are came in, and with the nauseous familiarity of such not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a unbred brutes, snatched the papers out of my manner. In short, my journal only holds up folly hand. I was immediately under so great a con- to the light, and shows the disagreeableness of cern, that I threw myself at his feet, and begged such actions as are indifferent in themselves, and of him to return them. He, with the same odious blameable only as they proceed from creatures enmuch are pretence to freedom and gaiety, swore he would dowed with reason.

tas for the

e I sure it

ess in it, th

eart,

that I Ined

eman of me

read them. I grew more importunate, he more My following correspondent, who calls herself as macr curious, till at last, with an indignation arising Clarinda, is such a journalist as I require. She else ifrom a passion I then first discovered in him, he seems by her letter to be placed in a modish state ed past threw the papers into the fire, swearing that since of indifference between vice and virtue, and to be

Ortunity

eived his

eason to

h I did

he was not to read them, the man who writ them susceptible of either, were there proper pains d note should never be so happy as to have me read them taken with her. Had her journal been filled with over again. It is insignificant to tell you my tears gallantries, or such occurrences as had shown her and reproaches made the boisterous calf leave the wholly divested of her natural innocence, notwithroom ashamed and out of countenance, when I standing it might have been more pleasing to had leisure to ruminate on this accident with more the generality of readers, I should not have pubthan ordinary sorrow. However, such was then lished it; but as it is only the picture of a life filled my confidence in my husband, that I writ to him with a fashionable kind of gaiety and laziness, I the misfortune, and desired another paper of the shall set down five days of it, as I have received it same kind. He deferred writing two or three from the hand of my fair correspondent.

than

world

ason to beje

k there is

posts, and at last answered me in general, That he

edhist could not then send me what I asked for; but

'DEAR MR. SPECTATOR,

of den when he could find a proper conveyance, I should You having set your readers an exercise in one of magbe sure to have it. From this time his letters were your last week's papers, I have performed mine Dans more cold every day than other; and as he grew according to your orders, and herewith send it you ld be indifferent, I grew jealous. This has at last brought inclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I or beste me to town, where I find both the witnesses of my am a maiden lady of a good fortune, who have had ely marriage dead, and that my husband, after three several matches offered me for these ten years last months cohabitation, has buried a young lady whom past, and have at present warm applications made t. He he married in obedience to his father. In a word, to me by 'A Very Pretty Fellow.'s As I am at e predhe shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the my own disposal, I come up to town every winter, yhouse and confront him, the father would join in and pass my time in it after the manner you will supporting him against me, though he believed my find in the following journal, which I began to story; should I talk it to the world, what repara- write upon the very day after your Spectator upon

eny s

bation can I expect for an injury I cannot make out? that subject.

ter I believe he means to bring me, through necessity,

to resign my pretensions to him for some provision

TUESDAY night. Could not go to sleep till one

for my life: but I will die first. Pray bid him in the morning for thinking of my journal.

remember what he said, and how he was charmed

when he laughed at the heedless discovery I often

WEDNESDAY. From eight till ten. Drank two

made of myself; let him remember how awkward dishes of chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after I was in my dissembled indifference towards him them.

before company; ask him how I, who could never From ten to eleven. Fat a slice of bread and conceal my love for him, at his own request can butter, drank a dish of bohea, read the Spectator.

part with him for ever? Oh, Mr. Spectator, sen

* There is such line in Virgil.-Addison most likely

sible spirits know no indifference in marriage: what from memory, and had reference to the following line describing

then do you think is my piercing affliction!-1 Cæneus:

leave you to represent my distress your own way, in which I desire you to be speedy, if you have

* compassion for innocence exposed to infamy.

STEELE.

'OCTAVIA.'

From eleven to one. At my toilette; tried a of good company. Mem. The third air in the new new head. Gave orders for Veny to be combed opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully. and washed. Mem. I look best in blue.

From one till half an hour after two. Drove to the 'Change. Cheapened a couple of fans.

Till four. At dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new liveries.

From four to six. Dressed; paid a visit to old Lady Blithe and her sister, having before heard they were gone out of town that day.

From six to eleven. At basset. Mem. Never set again upon the ace of diamonds.

THURSDAY. From eleven at night to eight in the morning. Dreamed that I punted to Mr. Froth.

From eight to ten. Chocolate. Read two acts in Aurengzebe* a-bed.

From ten to eleven. Tea-table. Sent to borrow Lady Faddle's Cupid for Veny. Read the play-bills. Received a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it up in my strong box.

From three to four. Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the opera before I was risen from table.

From dinner to six. Drank tea. Turned off a footman for being rude to Veny.

Six o'clock. Went to the opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the beginning of the second act. Mr. Froth talked to a gentleman in a black wig; bowed to a lady in the front box. Mr. Froth and his friend clapped Nicolini in the third act. Mr. Froth cried out Ancora.' Mr. Froth led me to my chair. I think he squeezed my hand.

Eleven at night. Went to bed. Melancholy dreams. Methought Nicolini said he was Mr.

Froth.

SUNDAY. Indisposed.

MONDAY. Eight o'clock. Waked by Miss Kitty.

Rest of the morning. Fontange, the tire-woman, Aurengzebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty reher account of my Lady Blithe's wash. Broke a peated without book the eight best lines in the tooth in my little tortoise-shell comb. Sent Frank play. Went in our mobs to the dumb man' acto know how my Lady Hectic rested after her cording to appointment. Told me that my lover's monkey's leaping out at window. Looked pale. name began with a G. Mem. The conjurer was Fontange tells me my glass is not true. Dressed within a letter of Mr. Froth's name, &c. by three.

From three to four. Dinner cold before I sat

'Upon looking back into this my journal, I find down. that I am at a loss to know whether I pass my From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth's time well or ill; and indeed never thought of cou opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. sidering how I did it before I perused your specu His fancy of a pincushion. Picture in the lid of lation upon that subject. I scarce find a single ac his snuff-box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her tion in these five days that I can thoroughly ap woman to cut my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp. prove of, except the working upon the violet-leaf, Twelve o'clock at night. Went to bed. which I am resolved to finish the first day I am at leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not

FRIDAY. Eight in the morning. A bed. Read think they took up so much of my time and thoughts over all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Veny. as I find they do upon my journal. The latter of Ten o'clock. Stayed within all day, not at home. them I will turn off if you insist upon it; and if From ten to twelve. In conference with my Mr. Froth does not bring matters to a conclusion mantua-maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke very suddenly, I will not let my life run away in my blue china cup.

a dream.

Your humble servant,
CLARINDA.

From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, practised Lady Betty Modely's skuttle. One in the afternoon. Called for my flowered handkerchief. Worked half a violet leaf in it. To resume one of the morals of my first paper, Eyes ached and head out of order. Threw by my and to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I work, and read over the remaining part of Au- would have her consider what a pretty figure she rengzebe. would make among posterity, were the history of From three to four, Dined. her whole life published like these five days of it. Fromfour to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, I shall conclude my paper with an epitaph written went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. by an uncertain authort on Sir Philip Sidney's Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation: Mrs. sister, a lady who seems to have been of a temper Brilliant's necklace false stones. Old Lady Love- very much different from that of Clarinda. The day going to be married to a young fellow that is last thought of it is so very noble, that I dare su not worth a groat. Miss Prue gone into the coun- my reader will pardon me the quotation.

try. Tom Townley has red hair. Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear that she had something to tell me about Mr. Froth; I am sure it is

not true.

Between twelve and one. Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my feet, and called me Indamora.t

SATURDAY. Rose at eight o'clock in the morning. Sat down to my toilette.

From eight to nine. Shifted a patch for half an hour before I could determine it. Fixed it above my left eyebrow.

1

From nine to twelve. Drank my tea and dressed.
From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal

ON THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF PEMBROKE

Underneath this marble hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
Death, ere thou hast kill'd another,
Fair and learn'd, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.'

• Duncan Campbell. See also Tat, No. 14.
Generally supposed to be Ben Johnson.