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“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 firin, 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 combat is truly sublime, and at least equal 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' angelic 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 Teneriffe, or Atlas, unremoved :

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 translations, taken from the greatest of the Greek and Latin poets. But this I may reserve for a discourse by itself, because I would not break the thread of these speculations; that are designed for English readers, with such reflections as would be of no 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, Jupiter weighed the event of it in a pair of scales. The reader may see the whole passage in the 22d Iliad.

Yo: 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 Æneid, does not only insert it as a poetical embellishment, like the author's above-mentioned, but makes an artful use of it for the proper carrying on of his fable, and for the breaking off the combat between the two warriors, who were upon the point of engaging. To this we may further add, that Milton is the more justified in this passage, as we find the same noble allegory in holy writ, where a wicked prince, some few hours before he was assaulted and slain, is said to have been “weighed 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; as that account of the hymns which our first parents used to hear them sing in these their midnight walks is altogether divine, and inexpressibly amusing to the imagination. We are in the last o: to consider the rts which Adam and Eve act in the fourth k. The description of them, as they first . 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, God-like erect, 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 placid: 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 hyacinthine locks Round from his parted forelock manly hung Clustring, but not beneath his shoulders broad. She, as a veil, down to her slender waist Her unadorned golden tresses wore Dishevell'd, but in wanton ringlets wav'd. So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight Of God or angels, 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 bed of flowers by the side of a fountain, amidst a mixed assembly of animals. The speeches of these two first lovers flow equally from passion and sincerity. The professions they make to one another are full of warmth; but at the same time founded on truth. In a word they are the gallantries of Paradise: 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’rs 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, emioying thee, Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou Like consort to thyself canst no where find.” &c. 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 o in any other poet whatsoever. hese passages are all worked off with so much art, that they are capable of pleasing the mest delicate reader, without offending the most severe.

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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 endearin things without descending from his natu dignity, and the woman receiving them without departing from the modesty of her character: in a word, to adjust the prerogatives of wisdom and beauty, and make each appear to the other in its proper force and loveliness. This mutual subordination of the two sexes is wonderfully kept up in the whole poem, as particularly in the speech of Eve I have before mentioned, and upon the conclusion of it in the following lines: 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 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. Most of the modern heroic poets have imitated the ancients, in beginning a speech without premising that the person said thus or thus; but as it is easy to imitate the ancients in the omission of two or three words, it requires judgment to do it 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.

No. 322.] Monday, March 10, 1711-12.

—Ad humum moerore gravi deducit et angit. Hor. Ars Poet. v. 110.

—Grief wrings her soul, and bends it down to earth. Francis.

It is often said, after a man has heard a story with extraordinary circumstances, “It

is a very good one, if it be true:” but as for the following relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. It is told with such simplicity, and there are so many artless touches of distress in it, that I fear it comes too much from the heart.

“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 general civilities into an unfeigned passion on both sides. He watched an opportunity to declare himself to me; and I, who could not expect a man of so great an estate as his, received his addresses in such terms, as gave him no reason to believe I was displeased with them, though I did nothing to make him think me more easy than was decent. His father was a very hard worldly man, and proud; so that there was no reason to believe he would easily be brought to think there was any thing in any woman's person, or character, that could balance the disadvantage of an unequal fortune. In the mean time the son continued his application to me, and omitted no occasion of demonstrating the most disinterested passion imaginable to me; and in plain direct terms offered to marry me privately, and keep it so till he should be so happy as to gain his father's approbation, or become possessed of his estate. I passionately loved him, and you will believe I did not deny such a one what was my interest also to grant. However, I was not so young as not to take the precaution of carrying with me a faithful servant, who had been also my mother’s maid, to be present at the ceremony. When that was over, I demanded a certificate to be signed by the minister, my husband, and the servant I just now spoke of. After our nuptials, 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, which is to be observed in man and wife. This observation made the father very anxious for his son, and press him to a match he had in his eye for him. To relieve my husband from this importunity, and conceal the secret of our marriage, which I had reason to know would not be long in my power in town, it was resolved that I should retire into a remote place in the country, and converse under feigned names by letter. We long continued this way of commerce; and I with my needle, a few books, and reading over and over my husband’s 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 retired 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 opoly the want of all manner of breeding by the neglect of it, and with noisy mirth, half understanding and ample fortune, force themselves upon persons and things, without any sense of time or place. The poor ignorant people where I lay concealed, and now passed for a widow, wondered I could be so shy and strange, as they called it, to the ’squire; and were bribed by him to admit him whenever he thought fit; I happened to be sitting in a little parlour which belonged to my own part of the house, and musing over one of the fondest of my husband’s letters, in which I always kept the certificate of my marriage, when this rude fellow came in, and with the nauseous familiarity of such unbred brutes snatched the papers out of my hand. I was immediately under so great a concern, that I threw myself at his feet, and begged of him to return them. . He, with the same odious pretence to freedom and gaiety, swore he would read them. I grew more importunate, he more curious, till at last, with an indignation arising from a passion I then first discoYered in him, he threw the papers into the fire, swearing that since he was not to read them, the man who writ them should never be so happy as to have me read them over again. It is insignificant to tell you my tears and reproaches made the boisterous calf leave the room ashamed and out of countenance, when I had leisure to ruminate on this accident with more than ordinary sorrow. However, such was then my confidence in my husband, that I writ to him the misfortune, and desired another paper of the same kind. He deferred writing two or three posts, and at last answered me in general, that he could not then send me what I asked for; but when he could find a proper conveyance, I should be sure to have it. From this time his letters were more cold every day than other, and, as he grew indifferent I grew jealous. This has at last brought me to town, where I find both the witnesses of my marriage dead, and that my husband, after three month’s cohabitation, has buried a young lady whom he married in obedience to his father. In a word he shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the house and confront him, the father would join in supporting him against me, though he believed my story; should I talk it to the world, what reparation can I ex{. for an injury I cannot make out? I

elieve he means to bring me, through necessity, to resign my pretensions to him for some provision for my life; but I will die first, Pray bid him remember what he said, and how he was charmed when he laughed at the heedless discovery I often made of

myself; let him remember how awkward I was in my dissembled indifference towards him before company; ask him how I, who could never conceal my love for him, at his own request can part with him for ever? Oh, Mr. Spectator, sensible spirits know no indifference in marriage: what then do you think is my piercing affliction? I 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. OCTAVIA.”

No. 323.] Tuesday, March 11, 1711-12.

–Modo vir, modo foemina. Pirg, Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman.

THE journal with which I presented my reader on Tuesday last has brought me in several letters, with accounts of many private lives cast into that form. I have the ‘Rake's Journal,” the “Sot's Journal,” the ‘Whoremaster's Journal,” and, among several others, a very curious Piece, entitled, “The Journal of a Mohock.” By these instances, I find that the intention of my last Tuesday’s paper has been mistaken by many of my readers. I did not design so much to expose vice as idleness, and aimed at those persons who passed away their time rather in trifles and impertinence, than in crimes and immoralities. Offences of this latter kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In short, my journal only holds up folly to the light, and shows thé disagreeableness of Such actions as are indifferent in themselves, and blameable only as they proceed from creatures endowed with reason.

My following correspondent, who calls herself Clarinda, is such a journalist as I require. She seems by her letter to be placed in a modish state of indifference between vice and virtue, and to be susceptible of either, were there proper pains taken with her. Had her journal been filled with gallantries, or such occurrences as had shown her wholly divested of her natural innocence, notwithstanding it might have been more pleasing to the generality of readers, I should not have published it: but as it is only the picture of a life filled with a fashionable kind of gaiety and laziness, I shall set down five days of it, as I have received it from the hand of my fair correspondent.

‘DEAR MR. SPECTAtoR,-You having set your readers an exercise in one of your last week’s papers, I have performed mine according to your orders, and herewith send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am a maiden lady of a good fortune, who have had several matches offered me for these ten years last past, and have at present warm applications made to me by “a very pretty fellow.” As I am at my own disposal, I come up to town every winter, and pass my time in it

after the manner you will find in the following journal, which I began to write the very day after your Spectator upon that subject.”

TUEs DAY night. Could not go to sleep

till one in the morning for thinking of my [.

journal. WEDNEsday. From eight till ten. Drank two dishes of chocolate in bed, and fell asleep after them. From ten to eleven. Eat a slice of bread and butter, drank a dish of bohea, and read the Spectator. From eleven to one. At my toilette; tried a new hood. Gave orders for Veny to be combed 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 Weny. Read the play-bills. Received a letter from Mr. Froth. Mem. Locked it up in my strong box. Rest of the morning. Fontange, the tirewoman, her account of my lady Blithe’s wash. Broke a tooth in my little tortoiseshell comb. Sent Frank to know how my lady Hectic rested after her monkey’s leaping out at window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my glass is not true. Dressed by three. From three to four. Dinner cold before I sat down. From four to eleven. Saw company. Mr. Froth’s opinion of Milton. His account of the Mohocks. His fancy of a pin-cushion. Picture in the lid of his snuff-box. Old lady Faddle promises me her woman to cut my hair. Lost five guineas at crimp. Twelve o'clock at night. Went to bed. FRIDAY. Eight in the morning. A-bed. Read over all Mr. Froth's letters. Cupid and Venv. Ten o’clock. Stayed within all day, not at home. From ten to twelve. In conference with my mantua-maker. Sorted a suit of ribands. Broke my blue china cup. From twelve to one. Shut myself up in my chamber, practised lady Betty Modely's skuttle.f One in the afternoon. Called for my

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flowered handkerchief. Worked half a violet leaf in it. Eyes ached and head out of order. Threw by o work, and read over the remaining part of Aurengzebe. From three to four. Dined. From four to twelve. Changed my mind, dressed, went abroad, and played at crimp till midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home. Conversation: Mrs. Brilliant's necklace false stones. Old lady Love-day going to be marricq to a young fellow that is not worth a groat. iss Prue gone into the country. Tom Townly has red hair. Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my ear, that she ho 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. 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. From nine to twelve. Drank my tea, and dressed. From twelve to two. At chapel. A great deal of good company. Mem. The third air in the new opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully. 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. Melan..". Methought Nicolini said he was Mr. Froth.

SUNDAY. Indisposed.

Mon DAY. Eight o'clock. Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurengzebe lay upon the chair by me. Kitty repeated without book the eight best lines in the play. Went in our mobst to the dumb man, according to appointment. Told me that my lover's name began with a G. Mem. The conjurors was within a letter of Mr. Froth's name,

“Upon looking back into this my journal, I find that I am at a loss to know whether I pass my time well or ill; and indeed never thought of considering how I did it before I perused your speculation upon that subject. I scarce find a single action in these five days that I can thoroughly approve of excepting the working upon the violet-leaf, j. I am resolved to finish the first day

1 A sort of dress so named. § Duncan Campbell.

I am at leisure. As for Mr. Froth and Veny, I did not think they took up so much of my time and thoughts as I find they do upon my journal. The latter of them. I will turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring matters to a conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my life run away in a dream. Your humble serVant, CLARINDA,”

To resume one of the morals of my first

aper, and to confirm Clarinda in her good inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty figure she would make among #:...; were the history of her whole life published like these five days of it. I shall conclude my paper with an §. written by an uncertain author on Sir Philip Sydney's sister, a lady who seems to have been of a temper very much different from that of Clarinda. The last thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my reader will pardon me the quotation.

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“MR. SPECTAtoR,-The materials you have collected together towards a general history of clubs, make sobrightapart of your speculations, that Ithink it is but justice we allowe the learned world,to furnish you with such assistance as may promote that useful work. For this reason I could not forbear communicating to you some imperfect informations of a set of men (if you will allow them a place in that species of being) who have lately erected themselves into a nocturnal fraternity, under the title of the Mohock-club, a name borrowed it seems from a sort of cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the nations about them. The president is styled, “Emperor of the Mohocks;” and his arms are a Turkish crescent, which his imperial majesty bears at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his forehead. Agreeable to their name, the avowed design of their institution is mischief; and upon this foundation all their rules and orders are framed. An outrageous ambition of doing all possible hurt to their fellow-creatures, is the great cement of their assembly, and the only qualification

* The motto prefixed to this paper in folio, is from Juvenal: - Savis inter se convenitursis.

Even bears with bears agree.

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put the watch to a total rout, and mortify some of those inoffensive militia, is reckoned a coufi d'eclat. The particular talents by which these misanthropes are distinguished from one another, consist in the various kinds of barbarities which they execute upon the prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy dexterity in tipping the lion upon them; which is o: by squeezing the nose flat, to the face, and boring out the eyes with their fingers. Others are called the dancing-masters, and teach their scholars to cut capers by running swords through their legs; a new invention, whether originally French I cannot tell. A third sort are the tumblers, whose office is to set women on their heads, and commit certain indecencies, or rather barbarities, on the limbs which they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they cannot but be very shocking to the reader as well as the Spectator. In this manner they carry on a war against mankind; and by the standing maxims of their policy, are to enter into no alliances but one, and that is offensive and defensive with all bawdyhouses in general, of which they have declared themselves protectors and guarantees. “I must own, sir, these are only broken, incoherent memoirs of this wonderful society; but they are the best I have been yet able to procure: for, being but of late established, it is not ripe for a just history; and, to be serious, the chief design of this trouble is to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleased, out of a concern for the good of your countrymen, to act, under the character of a Spectator, not only the part of a looker-on, but an overseer of their actions; and whenever such enormities as this infest the town, we immediately fly to you for redress. . I have reason to believe, that some thoughtless youngsters, out of a false notion of bravery, and an immoderate fondness to be distinguished for fellows of fire, are insensibly hurried into this senseless, scandalous project. Such will probably stand corrected by your reproofs, especially if you inform them, that it is not courage #. half a score fellows, mad with wine and lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that the manners of Indian savages are not becoming accomplishments to an English fine gentleman. Such of them as have been bullies and scowerers of a long standing, and are grown veterans in this É. of service, are, I fear, too hardened to receive any impres

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