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 offended with these prevaricating rascals, that he took down the first vows, and puffed away the last. The philosopher, seeing a great cloud mounting upwards, and making its way directly to the trap-door, inquired of Jupiter what it meant. "This," says Jupiter, "is the smoke of a whole hecatomb that is offered me by the general of an army, who is very importunate with me to let him cut off a hundred thousand men that are drawn up in array against him. What does the impudent wretch think I see in him, to believe that I will make a sacrifice of so many mortals as good as himself, and all this to his glory forsooth? But hark!" says Jupiter, there is a voice I never heard but in time of danger: 'tis a rogue that is shipwrecked in the Ionian sea. I saved him on a plank but three days ago upon his promise to mend his manners; the scoundrel is not worth a groat, and yet has the impudence to offer me a temple, if I will keep him from sinking.-But yonder," says he, "is a special youth for you;

up a petition that he might live to finish a house he was building. In short, he is an unreasonable old cur, and never wants an excuse; I will hear no more of him." Upon which he flung down the trap-door in a passion, and was resolved to give no more audiences that day.'

Notwithstanding the levity of this fable, the moral of it very well deserves our attention, and is the same with that which has been inculcated by Socrates and Plato, not to mention Juvenal and Persius, who have each of them made the finest satire in their whole works upon this subject. The vanity of men's wishes which are the natural prayers of the mind, as well as many of those secret devotions which they offer to the Supreme Being, are sufficiently exposed by it. Among other reasons for set forms of prayer, I have often thought it a very good one, that by this means the folly and extravagance of men's desires may be kept within due bounds, and not break out in absurd and ridiculous petitions on so great and solemn an occasion,

I.

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

"Cupid, who always attends the fair, and pitied the fate of so useful a servant as "It is a general maxim, that those who I was, obtained of the destinies, that my dote upon themselves can have no violent body should remain incorruptible, and reaffection for another; but on the contrary, tain the qualities my mind had possessed. I found that the women's passion rose for I immediately lost the figure of a man, and me in proportion to the love they bore to became smooth, polished, and bright, and themselves. This was verified in my to this day am the first favourite of the amour with Narcissa, who was so constant ladies."

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.

through the mind of the beholder, upon
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.

Copenhagen, May 1, 1710. '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 sufferMany authors have written on the vanity ings. Now the griefs of lovers begin to of the creature, and represented the barflow, and the wounds to bleed afresh. I, too, at this distance from the softer climates, renness of every thing in this world, and its incapacity of producing any solid or subam not without my discontents at present. stantial happiness. As discourses of this You may perhaps laugh at me for a most romantic wretch, when I have disclosed to nature are very useful to the sensual and 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 real, in being confined to a region which those innocent entertainments which are to is the very reverse of Paradise. The seasons be met with among the several objects that 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 here is a tempest, and every water a turbulent ocean. I hope, when you reflect a little, you will not think the grounds of my complaint in the least frivolous and unbe-present, but from reflections on the parcoming a man of serious thought; since the love of woods, of fields and flowers, of rivers and fountains, seems to be a passion implanted in our natures the most early of any, even before the fair sex had a being. I am, sir, &c.

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.

still inculcate, not only from the consideration of ourselves, and of that Being on whom we depend, nor from the general survey of that universe in which we are placed at

ticular season in which this paper is written. The creation is a perpetual feast to the mind of a good man; every thing he sees cheers and delights him. Providence has imprinted so many smiles on nature, that it is impossible for a mind which is not sunk 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.

Natural philosophy quickens this taste of the creation, and renders it not only pleasing to the imagination, but to the unIt does not rest in the murderstanding. mur 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.

In the opening of the spring, when all nature begins to recover herself, the same It is not in the power of every one to animal pleasure which makes the birds offer up this kind of worship to the great sing, and the whole brute creation rejoice, Author of nature, and to indulge these rises very sensibly in the heart of man. Ímore refined meditations of heart, which know none of the poets who have observed are doubtless highly acceptable in his sight; so well as Milton those secret overflow- I shall therefore conclude this short essay ings of gladness which diffuse themselves on that pleasure which the mind naturally

conceives from the present season of the verses, and working from the observation year, by the recommending of a practice of such their bias in all matters wherein he for which every one has sufficient abilities. has any intercourse with them: for his ease I would have my readers endeavour to and comfort he may assure himself, he need moralize this natural pleasure of the soul, not be at the expense of any great talent or and to improve this vernal delight, as Mil- virtue to please even those who are poston calls it, into a Christian virtue. When sessed of the highest qualifications. Pride, we find ourselves inspired with this pleasing in some particular disguise or other, (often instinct, this secret satisfaction and compla- a secret to the proud man himself) is the cency arising from the beauties of the crea- most ordinary spring of action among men. tion, let us consider to whom we stand in- You need no more than to discover what a debted for all these entertainments of sense, man values himself for; then of all things and who it is that thus opens his hand and admire that quality, but be sure to be failfills the world with good. The apostle in- ing in it yourself in comparison of the man structs us to take advantage of our present whom you court. I have heard, or read, temper of mind, to graft upon it such a re- of a secretary of state in Spain, who served ligious exercise as is particularly conform-a prince who was happy in an elegant use able to it, by that precept which advises of the Latin tongue, and often writ dethose who are sad to pray, and those who are merry to sing psalms. The cheerfulness of heart which springs up in us from the survey of nature's works, is an admirable preparation for gratitude. The mind has gone a great way towards praise and thanksgiving, that is filled with such secret gladness-a grateful reflection on the supreme cause who produces it, sanctifies it in the soul, and gives it its proper value. Such an habitual disposition of mind consecrates every field and wood, turns an ordinary walk into a morning or evening sacrifice, and will improve those transient gleams of joy which naturally brighten up and refresh the soul on such occasions, into an inviolable and perpetual state of bliss and happiness.

I.

No. 394.] Monday, June 2, 1712.
Bene colligitur hæc pueris et mulierculis et servis et ser
vorum similimis liberis esse grata: gravi vero homini
et ea quæ fiunt judicio certo ponderanti, probari posse

nullo modo.-Tull.

It is obvious to see, that these things are very accept

able to children, young women, and servants, and to such as most resemble servants; but that they can by no means meet with the approbation of people of thought and consideration.

spatches in it with his own hand. The king showed his secretary a letter he had written to a foreign prince, and, under the colour of asking his advice, laid a trap for his applause. The honest man read it as a faithful counsellor, and not only excepted against his tying himself down too much by some expressions, but mended the phrase in others. You may guess the despatches that evening did not take much longer time. Mr. Secretary as soon as he came to his own house, sent for his eldest son, and communicated to him that the family must retire out of Spain as soon as possible: 'for,' said he, the king knows I understand Latin better than he does.'

This egregious fault in a man of the world should be a lesson to all who would make their fortunes; but regard must be carefully had to the person with whom you have to do; for it is not to be doubted but a great man of common sense must look with secret indignation, or bridled laughter, on all the slaves who stand around him with ready faces to approve and smile at all he says in the gross.

observe a superior talking half sentences, It is good comedy enough to and playing an humble admirer's countenance from one thing to another, with such perplexity, that he knows not what to sneer I HAVE been considering the little and in approbation of. But this kind of comfrivolous things which give men accesses to plaisance is peculiarly the manner of courts; one another, and power with each other, in all other places you must constantly go not only in the common and indifferent ac- further in compliance with the persons you cidents of life, but also in matters of greater have to do with, than a mere conformity of importance. You see in elections for mem-looks and gestures. If you are in a country bers to sit in parliament, how far saluting life, and would be a leading man, a good rows of old women, drinking with clowns, stomach, a loud voice, and rustic cheerfuland being upon a level with the lowest part of mankind in that wherein they themselves are lowest, their diversions, will carry a candidate. A capacity for prostituting a man's self in his behaviour, and descending to the present humour of the vulgar, is perhaps as good an ingredient as any other for making a considerable figure in the world; and if a man has nothing else or better to think of, he could not make his way to wealth and distinction by properer methods, than studying the particular bent or inclination of people with whom he con

ness, will go a great way, provided you are able to drink, and drink any thing. But I was just now going to draw the manner of behaviour I would advise people to practise under some maxim; and intimated, that every one almost was governed by his pride. There was an old fellow about forty years ago so peevish and fretful, though a man of business, that no one could come at him; but he frequented a particular little coffeehouse, where he triumphed over every body at trick-track and backgammon. The way to pass his office well, was first to be insulted

Quod nunc ratio est, impetus ante fuit. Ovid. Rem. Amor. 10. "Tis reason now, 'twas appetite before. I shall now allow my fair readers to BEWARE of the ides of March,' said the return to their romances and chocolate, Roman augur to Julius Cæsar: Beware of provided they make use of them with modethe month of May,' says the British Spec- ration, till about the middle of the month, tator to his fair country-women. The cau- when the sun shall have made some protion of the first was unhappily neglected, gress in the Crab. Nothing is more danand Cæsar's confidence cost him his life. I gerous than too much confidence and secuam apt to flatter myself that my pretty rity. The Trojans, who stood upon their readers had much more regard to the ad-guard all the while the Grecians lay before vice I gave them, since I have yet received very few accounts of any notorious trips made in the last month.