Καὶ μὴν Σίσυφον εἰσεῖδον, κρατέρ ̓ ἄλγὲ ἔχοντα, Ητοι ὁ μὲν, σκηριπλόμενος χερσίν τε ποσίν τε, It would be endless to quote Verfes out of Virgil which have this particular Kind of Beauty in the Numbers; but I may take an Occafion in a future Paper to fhew several of them which have escaped the Observation of others. I cannot conclude this Paper without taking Notice that we have three Poems in our Tongue, which are of the fame Nature, and each of them a Master-piece in its Kind; the Effay on tranflated Verse, the Effay on the Art of Poetry, and the Effay upon Criticism. C No. 254. Friday, December 21. Σεμνὸς ἔρως ἀρετῆς, ὁ δὲ κυπρίδος ἆσχος ὀφέλλει, W HEN I confider the falfe Impreffions which are received by the Generality of the World, I am troubled at none more than a certain Levity of Thought, which many young Women of Quality have entertained, to the Hazard of their Characters, and the certain Misfortunes of their Lives. The best of the fol lowing Letters may best represent the Faults I would now point at, and the Anfwer to it the Temper of Mind in a contrary Character. My dear Harriot, IF F thou art fhe, but oh how fallen, how changed, 'what an Apoftate! how loft to all that's gay and agreeable! To be married I find is to be buried alive; I can't conceive it more dismal to be shut up in a Vault Sto ⚫ to converse with the Shades of my Ancestors, than to be carried down to an old Minnor-Houfe in the Country, and confined to the Conversation of a fober Huf• band and an aukward Chambermaid. For Variety I 'fuppofe you may entertain your felf with Madam in her Grogram Gown, the Spoufe of your Parish Vicar, who has by this Time I am fure well furnished you with Receipts for making Salves and Poffets, diftilling Cordial Waters, making Syrups, and applying Poultices. •BLEST Solitude! I wifh thee Joy, my Dear, of 'thy loved Retirement, which indeed you would perfwade me is very agreeable, and different enough from 'what I have here defcribed: But, Child, I am afraid thy Brains are a little difordered with Romances and Novels: After fix Months Marriage to hear thee talk of 'Love, and paint the Country Scenes fo foftly, is a little extravagant; one would think you lived the Lives of Sylvan Deities, or roved among the Walks of Paradife, ⚫ like the first happy Pair. But pr'ythee leave thefe Whim'fies, and come to Town in order to live and talk like o'ther Mortals. However, as I am extreamly interested ' in your Reputation, I would willingly give you a little good Advice at your first Appearance under the Cha'racter of a married Woman: 'Tis a little Infolence in me, perhaps, to advise a Matron; but I am so afraid you'll make fo filly a figure as a fond Wife, that I cannot help warning you not to appear in any publick Places 'with your Husband, and never to faunter aboutSt. James's Parktogether: If you prefume to enter the Ring at Hide'Park together, you are ruined for ever; nor muft you 'take the least Notice of one another at the Play-house or • Opera, unless you would be laughed at for a very loving Couple most happily paired in the Yoke of Wedlock. 'would recommend the Example of an Acquaintance of ours to your Imitation; fhe is the most negligent and 'fashionable Wife in the World; fhe is hardly ever seen ' in the fame Place with her Husband,and if they happen to meet, you would think them perfect Strangers: She ne6 ver was heard to name him in his Absence, and takes Care ' he shall never be the Subject of any Discourse that she has a Share in. I hope you'll propofe this Lady as a Pattern, tho' I am very much afraid you'll be fo filly to ⚫ think ⚫ think Portia,&c. Sabine and Roman Wives, much brighter Examples. I wish it may never come into your Head, to imitate those antiquated Creatures fo far, as to come • into Publick in the Habit as well as Air of a Roman Matron. You make already theEntertainment at Mrs. Modib's Tea-Table; fhe fays, fhe always thought you a ⚫ difcreet Perfon, and qualified to manage a Family with 'admirable Prudence; fhe dies to fee what demure and 'ferious Airs Wedlock has given you; but she says, fhe ⚫ shall never forgive your Choice of fo gallant a Man as 'Bellamour to transform him into a meer fober Husband; 'twas unpardonable: You fee my Dear, we all envy your Happiness, and no Perfon more than Your humble Servant, Lydia. BE not in Pain, good Madam, for my Appearance in Town; I fhall frequent no publick Places, nor make any Vifits where the Character of a modest Wife is ridiculous: As for your wild Rallery on Matrimony, 'tis all Hypocrify; you, and all the hardfome young Women of your Acquaintance, fhew your felves to no o⚫ther Purpose than to gain a Conqueft over fome Man of • Worth, in order to bestow your Charms and Fortune on him. There's no Indecency in the Confeffion, the • Defign is modeft and honourable, and all your Affecta⚫tion can't disguise it. • I am married, and have no other Concern but to please ⚫ the Man I love; he's the End of every Care I have; if • I drefs 'tis for him, if I read a Poem or a Play, 'tis to qualify my felf for a Converfation agreeable to his Tafte: He's almoft the End of my Devotions; half my Prayers are for his Happiness- I love to talk of him, and never hear him named but with Pleasure and Emotion. I am your Friend, and wish you Happiness, but am forry to fee by the Air of your Letter that there are a Sort of ⚫ Women who are got into the Common-Place Rallery " of every Thing that is fober, decent, and proper: Matrimony and the Clergy are the Topicks of People of ⚫ little Wit and no Understanding. I own to you I have ← learned of the Vicar's Wife all you tax me with: She is a • difcreet, ⚫ difcreet, ingenious, pleasant, pious Woman; I wish she had the handling of you and Mrs. Modifh; you would find, if you were too free with her, fhe would foon "make you as charming as ever you were, fhe would make you blush as much as if you never had been fine Ladies. The Vicar, Madam, is so kind as to vifit my Husband, ⚫ and his agreeable Converfation has brought him to enjoy many fober happy Hours when even I am fhut out, and my dear Master is entertained only with his own Thoughts. Thefe Things, dear Madam, will be lafting 'Satisfactions, when the fine Ladies and the Coxcombs by whom they form themselves are irreparably ridiculous, ridiculous in old Age. I am, Madam, Your most humble Servant, Mary Home. Dear Mr. SPECTATOR, you OU have no Goodness in the World, and are not in Earnest in any Thing you fay that is ferious, if do not fend me a plain Anfwer to this: I happened fome Days paft to be at the Play, where, during the • Time of Performance, I could not keep my Eyes off ⚫ from a beautiful young Creature who fat juft before me, and who I have been fince informed has no Fortune. • It would utterly ruin my Reputation for Discretion to ་ marry fuch a one, and by what I can learn she has a * Character of great Modefty, fo that there is nothing to 'be thought on any other Way. My Mind has ever fince 'been fo wholly bent on her, that I am much in Danger of doing fomething very extravagant, without your speedy Advice to, SIR, Your most humble Servant. I am forry I cannot answer this impatient Gentleman but by another Question. Dear Correfpondent, 'W OULD you marry to please other People, or your felf? T Saturday No.255. Saturday, December 22. Laudis amore tumes ? funt certa piacula quæ te T 1 Hor. HE Soul confidered abstractedly from its Paffions, is of a remifs and fedentary Nature, flow in its Refolves, and languishing in its Executions. The Ufe therefore of the Paffions is to ftir it up, and put it upon Action, to awaken the Understanding, to enforce the Will, and to make the whole Man more vigorous and attentive in the Prosecution of his Defigns. As this is the End of the Paffions in general, fo it is particularly of Ambition, which pushes the Soul to fuch Actions as are apt to procure Honour and Reputation to the Actor. But if we carry our Reflections higher, we may discover further Ends of Providence in implanting this Paffion in Mankind. Ir was neceffary for the World, that Arts fhould be invented and improved, Books written and transmitted to Pofterity, Nations conquered and civilized: Now fince the proper and genuine Motives to thefe and the like great Actions, would only influence virtuous Minds ; there would be but small Improvements in the World, were not there fome common Principle of Action working equally with all Men. And fuch a Principle is Ambition or a Defire of Fame, by which great Endowments are not fuffered to lie idle and useless to the Publick, and many vicious Men over-reached, as it were, and engaged contrary to their natural Inclinations in a glorious and laudable Course of Action. For we may further observe, that Men of the greatest Abilities are most fired with Ambition: And that, on the contrary, mean and narrow Minds are the least actuated by it; whether it be that a Man's Senfe of his own Incapacities makes him despair of coming at Fame, or that he has not enough Range of Thought to look out for any Good which does not more immediately relate to his Intereft or Convenience; or that Providence, |