their lives to these apprehensions. The story| of a man who grew gray in the space of one night's anxiety is very famous. * O nox, quam longa es, quæ facis una senem !' A tedious night indeed, that makes a young man old" These apprehensions, if they proceed from a consciousness of guilt, are the sad warnings of reason; and may excite our pity, but admit of no remedy. When the hand of the Almighty is visibly lifted against the impiious, the heart of mortal man cannot withstand him. We have this passion sublimely represented in the punishment of the Egyptians, tormented with the plague of darkness, in the apocryphal book of Wisdom ascribed to Solomon. And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defies, 'Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms That flings the thunder from the sky, He, unconcern'd, would hear the mighty crack, The vanity of fear may be yet further illustrated if we reflect, First, What we fear may not come to pass. No human scheme can be so accurately protected, but some little circumstance intervening may spoil it. He who directs the heart of man at his pleasure, and understands the thoughts long before, may, by ten thousand accidents, or an immediate change in the inclinations of men, disconcert the most subtle project, and turn it to the benefit of his own For when unrighteous men thought to oppress the holy nation; they being shut up in their houses, the p:isoners of darkness, and fettered with the bonds of a long night, lay there exiled from the eternal Providence. For servants. while they supposed to lie hid in their secret In the next place we should consider, though sins, they were scattered under a dark veil of the evil we imagine should come to pass, it may forgetfulness, being horribly astonished and be much more supportable than it appeared to troubled with strange apparitions-For wick- be. As there is no prosperous state of life edness, condemned by her own witness, is without its calamities so there is no adversity very timorous, and, being oppresed with con- without its benefits. Ask the great and powscience, always forecasteth grievous things. erful, if they do not feel the pangs of envy For fear is nothing else but a betraying of and ambition. Inquire of the poor and needy, the succours which reason offereth-For the if they have not tasted the sweets of quiet whole world shined with clear light, and and contentment. Even under the pains of none were hindered in their labour. Over body, the infidelity of friends, or the misthem only was spread a heavy night, an constructions put upon our laudable actions; image of that darkness which should af- our minds, when for some time accustomed to unto terwards receive them; but yet were they these pressures, are sensible of secret flowings themselves more grievous than the darkness."* of comfort, the present reward of a pious reTo fear, so justly grounded, no remedy can signation. The evils of this life appear like be proposed; but a man (who hath no great guilt hanging upon his mind, who walks in the plain path of justice and integrity, and yet, either by natural complexion, or confirmed prejudices, or neglect of serious reflection, suffers himself to be moved by this abject In the last place, we may comfort ourselves and unmanly passion) would do well to con- with this consideration, that, as the thing feared sider, that there is nothing which deserves may not reach us, so we inay not reach what we his fear, but that beneficent Being who is fear. Our lives may not extend to that dreadhis friend, his protector, his father. Were ful point which we have in view. He who this one thought strongly fixed in the mind, knows all our failings, and will not suffer us to what calamity would be dreadful? What be tempted beyond our strength, is often pleasload can infamy lay upon us when we are ed, in his tender severity, to separate the soul sure of the approbation of him who will repay the disgrace of a moment with the glory of eternity? What sharpness is there in pain and diseases, when they only hasten us on to the pleasures that will never fade? What sting is in death, when we are assured that it is only the beginning of life? A man who lives so as not to fear to die, is inconsistent with himself, if he delivers himself up to any incidental anxiety. The intrepidity of a just good man is so nobly set forth by Horace, that it cannot be too often repeated: The man resolv'd and steady to his trust, Wisd. xvii. passim. rocks and precipices, rugged and barren at a distance; but at our nearer approach we find little fruitful spots, and refreshing springs, mixed with the harshness and deformities of nature. from its body and miseries together. If we look forward to him for help, we shall never be in danger of falling down those precipices which our imagination is apt to create. Like those who walk upon a line, if we keep our eye fixed upon one point, we may step forward securely; whereas an imprudent or cowardly glance on either side will infallibly destroy us. No. 616.] Friday, November 5, 1714. A pretty fellow is but half a man. CICERO hath observed, that a jest is never uttered with a better grace than when it is accompanied with a serious countenance. When a pleasant thought plays in the features before it discovers itself in words, it raises too great and a ball. I peeped into the knight's great an expectation, and loses the advantage of hall, and saw a very pretty bevy of spinsters. giving surprise. Wit and humour are no less My dear relict was amongst them, and ambled poorly recommended by a levity of phrase and in a country dance as notably as the best of that kind of language which may be distin-them. guished by the name of cant. Ridicule is never May all his majesty's liege subjects love more strong than when it is concealed in gra-him as well as his good people of this his anvity. True humour lies in the thought, and cient borough! Adieu.' arises from the representation of images in odd circumstances and uncommon lights. A plea- No. 617.] Monday, November 8, 1714. sant thought strikes us by the force of its natural beauty; and the mirth of it is generally rather palled, than heightened, by that ridiculous phraseology which is so much in fashion among the pretenders to humour and pleasantry. This tribe of men are like our mountebanks; they make a man a wit by putting him in a fantastic habit. Our little burlesque authors, who are the delight of ordinary readers, generally abound in these pert phrases, which have in them more vivacity than wit. Torva Mimalloneis implêrunt cornua hombis, Their crooked horns the Mimallonian crew I lately saw an instance of this kind of writTHERE are two extremes in the style of huing, which gave me so lively an idea of it, that mour, one of which consists in the use of that I could not forbear begging a copy of the lets little pert phraseology which I took notice of ter from the gentleman who showed it to me. in my last paper; the other in the affectation It is written by a country wit, upon the occa-of strained and pompous expressions, fetched sion of the rejoicings on the day of the king's from the learned languages. The first savours too much of the town; the other of the college. coronation. 'Past two o'clock and a frosty morning. As nothing illustrates better than example, 'DEAR JACK, I shall here present my reader with a letter of I have just left the right worshipful and his pedantic humour, which was written by a myrmidons about a sneaker of five gallons. young gentleman of the university to his friend, The whole magistracy was pretty well disguis-on the same occasion, and from the same place, ed before I gave them the slip. Our friend the as the lively epistle published in my last Specalderman was half-seas over before the bonfire tator : was out. We had with us the attorney, and two or three other bright fellows. The doctor plays least in sight. 'DEAR CHUM, 'It is now the third watch of the night, the greatest part of which I have spent round a caAt nine o'clock in the evening we set fire to pacious bowl of china, filled with the choicest thew hore of Babylon. The devil acted his part products of both the Indies. I was placed at a to a miracle. He has made his fortune by it. quadrangular table, diametrically opposite to We equipped the young dog with a tester apiece. the mace-bearer. The visage of that venerable Honest old Brown of England was very drunk herald was, according to custom, most glori and showed his loyalty to the tune of a hun-ously illuminated on this joyful occasion. The dred rockets. The mob drank the king's mayor and aldermen, those pillars of our conhealth, on their marrowbones, in mother Day's stitution, began to totter; and if any one at double. They whipped us half a dozen hogs-the board could have so far articulated, as to heads. Poor Tom Tyler had like to have been have demanded intelligibly a re-enforcement demolished with the end of a skyrocket, that of liquor, the whole assembly had been by this fell upon the bridge of his nose as he was time extended under the table. drinking the king's health, and spoiled his tip. 'The celebration of this night's solemnity The mob were very loyal till about midnight, was opened by the obstreperous joy of drumwhen they grew a little mutinous for more mers, who, with their parchment thunder, gave liquor. They had like to have dumfounded a signal for the appearance of the mob under the justice; but his clerk came in to his assist- their several classes and denominations. They ance, and took them all down in black and were quickly joined by the melodious clank of white. marrowbones and cleavers, while a chorus of • When I had been huzzaed out of my seven bells filled up the concert. A pyramid of senses, I made a visit to the women, who were stack-faggots cheered the hearts of the popuguzzling very comfortably. Mrs. Mayoress lace with the promise of a blaze: the guns had clipped the king's English. Clack was the no sooner uttered the prologue, but the heavens were brightened with artificial meteors and 'I forgot to tell thee, that every one of the stars of our own making: and all the Highposse had his hat cocked with a distich; the street lighted up from one end to another with senators sent us down a cargo of riband and a galaxy of candles. We collected a largess for metre for the occasion. the multitude, who tippled eleemosynary until 'Sir Richard, to show his zeal for the pro- they grew exceeding vociferous. There was testant religion, is at the expense of a tar-barrel a pasteboard pontiff, with a little swarthy word. demon at his elbow, who, by his diabolical | whispers and insinuations, tempted his holiness into the fire, and then left him to shift for himself. The mobile were very sarcastic with their clubs, and gave the old gentleman several thumps upon his triple head-piece.* Tom Tyler's phiz is something damaged by the fall of a rocket, which hath almost spoiled the gnomon of his countenance. The mirth of the commons grew so very outrageous, that it found work for our friend of the quorum, who, by the help of his amanuensis, took down all their names and their crimes, with a design to produce his manuscript at the next quarter sessions, &c. &c. &c.' } These know no springs, but when their bodies sprout I shall subjoin to the foregoing piece of a letter the following copy of verses translated from an Italian poet, who was the Cleveland of his age, and had multitudes of admirers. The subject is an accident that happened under the reign of Pope Leo, when a fire-work, that No. 618.] Wednesday, November 10, 1714. had been prepared upon the castle of St. Angelo, began to play before its time, being kindled by a flash of lightning. The author has written a poem in the same kind of style as that I have already exemplified in prose. Every line in it is a riddle, and the reader must be forced to consider it twice or thrice, before be will know that the Cynic's tenement is a tub, and Bacchus's cast-coat a hogshead, &c. -Neque enim concludere versum 6 MR. SPECTATOR, 'You having, in your two last Spectators, given the town a couple of remarkable letters Twas night, and heaven, a Cyclops all the day, in different styles: I take this opportunity to Au Argus now, did countless eyes display; In every window Rome her joy declares, All bright and studded with terrestrial stars. A blazing chain oflights her roofs entwines, And round her neck the mingled lustre shines: The Cynic's rolling tenement conspires With Bacchus his cast-coat to feed the fires. The pile, still big with undiscover'd shows, Whilst now the multitude expect the time, The cloud's envelop'd heaven from human sight, Tall groves of trees the Hadrian tower surround, offer to you some remarks upon the epistolary way of writing in verse. This is a species of poetry by itself; and has not so much as been hinted at in any of the Arts of Poetry that have ever fallen into my hands: neither has it in any age, or in any nation, been so much cultivated as the other several kinds of poesy. A man of genius may, if he pleases, write letters in verse upon all manner of subjects that are capable of being embellished with wit and language, and may render them new and agreeable by giving the proper turn to them. But in speaking at present of epistolary poetry, I would be understood to mean only such writings in this kind as have been in use among the ancients and have been copied from them by some moderns. These may be reduced into two classes: in the one I shall range loveletters, letters of friendship, and letters upon mournful occasions; in the other I shall place such epistles in verse as may properly be called familiar, critical, and moral; to which may be added letters of mirth and humour. Ovid for the first, and Horace for the latter, are the best originals we have left. 'He that is ambitious of succeeding in the Ovidian way, should first examine his heart well, and feel whether his passions (especially those of the gentler kind) play easy; since it is not his wit, but the delicacy and tenderness of his sentiments, that will affect his These verses are translated from the Latin in Stra-readers. His versification likewise should be da's Prolusiones Academicæ, &c. and are an imitation soft, and all his numbers flowing and queroriginally of the style and manner of Camello Querno, ulous. *The pope's tiara, or triple mitre. surnamed the Arch-poet. His character and his writings were equally singular; he was poet and buffoon to Leo The qualifications requisite for writing X. and the common butt of that facetious pontiff and his epistles, after the model given us by Horace, courtiers. See Strada Polusiones, Oxon. 1745. Bayle's are of a quite different nature. He that would Dictionary, art. Leo. X. and Seward's Anecdotes, Vol. excel in this kind must have a good find of II. -Exert a rigorous sway, And lop the too luxuriant boughs away. strong masculine sense to this there must be joined a thorough knowledge of mankind, together with an insight into the business and I HAVE often thought that if the several the prevailing humours of the age. Our au-letters which are written to me under the chathor must have his mind well seasoned with the racter of Spectator, and which I have not made finest precepts of morality, and be filled with use of, were published in a volume, they would nice reflections upon the bright and dark sides not be an unentertaining collection.* of human life; he must be a master of refin-variety of the subjects, styles, sentiments, ed raillery, and understand the delicacies as and informations, which are transmitted to well as the absurdities of conversation. He must have a lively turn of wit, with an easy reader, insensibly along through a great many me, would lead a very curious, or very idle and concise manner of expression: every pages. The thing he says must be in a free and disen- I know some authors who would pick up a gaged manner. He must be guilty of nothing secret history out of such materials, and make that betrays the air of a recluse, but appear aa bookseller an alderman by the copy. I shall man of the world throughout. His illustra- therefore carefully preserve the original pations, his comparisons, and the greatest part pers in a room set apart for that purpose, to of his images must be drawn from common the end that they may be of service to posterlife. Strokes of satire and criticism, as well ity; but shall at present content myself with as panegyric, judiciously thrown in (and as owning the receipt of several letters, lately it were by the by give a wonderful life and orna- come to my hands, the authors whereof are imment to compositions of this kind. But let patient for an answer. our poet, while he writes epistles, though Charissa, whose letter is dated from Cornnever so familiar, still remember that he hill, desires to be eased in some scruples relatwrites in verse, and must for that reason have ing to the skill of astrologers.-Referred to the a more than ordinary care not to fall into dumb man for an answer. prose, and a vulgar diction, excepting where J. C. who proposes a love case, as he calls the nature and humour of the thing does ne-it, to the love casuist, is hereby desired to cessarily require it. In this point, Horace speak of it to the minister of the parish; it behas been thought by some critics to be some-ing a case of conscience. times careless, as well as too negligent of his versification; of which he seems to have been October 26, who complains of a harsh guarThe poor young lady whose letter is dated sensible himself. dian and an unkind brother, can only have All I have to add is, that both these man- my good wishes, unless she pleases to be more ners of writing may be made as entertaining, particular. in their way, as any other species of poetry, The petition of a certain gentleman, whose if undertaken by persons duly qualified; and name I have forgot, famous for renewing the the latter sort may be managed so as to be-curls of decayed periwigs, is referred to the come in a peculiar manner instructive. censor of small wares. 'I am, &c. The remonstrance of T. C. against the proI shall add an observation or two to the re-fanation of the sabbath by barbers, shoe-cleanmarks of my ingenious correspondent; and, ers, &c. had better be offered to the society of in the first place take notice that subjects of reformers. the most sublime nature are often treated in A learned and laborious treatise upon the ration, it is usual for him to recollect himself, To the lady who writes with rage against one of a letter. I might here mention an epistolary poem, just published by Mr. Eusden, on the king's accession to the throne; wherein among many other noble and beautiful strokes of poetry, his reader may see this rule very happily ob served. I I desire Tom Truelove (who sends me a sonnet upon his mistress, with a desire to print it immediately) to consider, that it is long since was in love. I shall answer a very profound letter from my old friend the upholsterer who is still inquisitive whether the king of Sweden be living or dead, by whispering him in the ear, that I believe he is alive. Let Mr. Dapperwit consider, What is that long story of the cuckoldom to me? At the earnest desire of Monimia's lover, who declares himself very penitent, he is recorded in my paper by the name of the faithful Castalio. The petition of Charles Cocksure, which the petitioner styles 'very reasonable,' rejected. The memorial of Philander, which he desires may be despatched out of hand, postponed. I desire S. R. not to repeat the expression ' under the sun,' so often in his next letter. The letter of P. S. who desires either to have it printed entire, or committed to the flames. Not to be printed entire. No. 620.] Monday, November 15, 1714. Behold the promis'd chief! HAVING lately presented my reader with a copy of verses full of the false sublime, I shall here communicate to him an excellent specimen of the true; though it hath not been yet published, the judicious reader will readily discern it to be the work of a master; and if he hath read that noble poem on the prospect of peace, he will not be at a loss to guess at the author. THE ROYAL PROGRESS. 'When Brunswick first appear'd, each honest heart, Or rent the turban from the sultan's head. With nymphs and tritons, wafts him o'er the main ; By longing nations for the throne design'd, Through stately towns, and many a fertile plain, The pomp advances to the neighbouring main." Whole nations crowd around with joyful cries, And view the hero with insatiate eyes. 'In Haga's towers he waites till eastern gales Propitious rise to swell the British sails. Hither the fame of England's monarch brings The vows and friendships of the neighb'ring kings, Mature in wisdom, his extensive mind Takes in the blended interest of mankind, The world's great patriot. Calm thy anxious breast, Secure in him, O Europe, take thy rest; Henceforth thy kingdoms shall remain confin'd By rocks and streams, the mounds which Heav'n design'd; The Alps their new-made monarch shall restrain, But see, to Britain's isle the squadron stand, Still is it thine; though now the cheerful crew Hail Albion's cliffs just whitening to the view. Before the wind with swelling sails they ride, Till Thames receive them in his opening tide. The monarch hears the thund'ring peals around From trembling woods and echoing hills rebound. Nor misses yet, amid the deaf'ning train, The roarings of the hoarse resounding main. 'As in the flood he sails, from either side He views his kingdom in its rural pride; A various scene the wide-spread landscape yields, O'er rich inclosures and luxuriant fields: A lowing herd each fertile pasture fills, And distant flocks stray o'er a thousand hills. Fair Greenwich hid in woods, with new delight, (Shade above shade) now rises to the sight: His woods ordain'd to visit every shore, And guard the island which they grac'd before. "The sun now rolling 'down the western way, A blaze of fires, renews the fading day; Unnumber'd barks the regal barge enfold, Bright'ning the twilight with its beamy gold; Less thick the finny shoals, a countless fry, Before the whale or kingly dolphin fly; In one vast shout he seeks the crowded strand, And in a peal of thunder gains the land. Welcome, great stranger! to our longing eyes, Oh! king desir'd, adopted Albion cries. For thee the East breath'd out a prosperous breeze, Bright were the suns, and gently swell'd the seas. Thy presence did each doubtful heart compose, And factions wonder'd that they once were foes; That joyful day they lost each hostile name, The same their aspect, and their voice the same. 'So two fair twins, whose features were design'd At one soft moment in the mother's mind, Show each the other with reflected grace, And the same beauties bloom in either face; The puzzled strangers which is which inquire; Delusion grateful to the smiling sire. 'From that fair bill, where hoary sages boast To name the stars, and count the heavenly host, By the next dawn doth great Augusta rise, Proud town the noblest scene beneath the skies. O'er Thames her thousand spires their lustre shed, And a vast navy hides his ample bedA floating forest! From the distant strand A line of golden cars strikes o'er the land; Britannia's peers in pomp and rich array, Before their king, triumphant, led the way. Far as the eye ean reach, the gaudy train, A bright procession, shines along the plain. 'So haply thro' the heav'n's wide pathless ways A comet draws a long-extended blaze; From east to west burns through th' ethereal frame And half heav'n's convex glitters with the flame. 'Now to the regal towers securely brought, He plans Britannia's glories in his thought, Resumes the delegated power he gave, Rewards the faithful, and restores the brave. * Flamstead House. |