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picable cowardice, such a degenerate abject state of mind, as one would think human nature incapable of, did we not meet with frequent instances of it in ordinary conversation.
There is another kind of vicious modesty which makes a man ashamed of his person, his birth, his profession, his poverty, or the like misfortunes, which it was not in his choice to prevent, and is not in his power to rectify. If a man appears ridiculous by any of the aforementioned circumstances, he becomes much more so by being out of countenance for them. They should rather give him occasion to exert a noble spirit, and to palliate those imperfections which are not in his power, by those perfections which are; or, to use a very witty allusion of an eminent author, he should imitate Cæsar, who, because his head was bald, covered that defect with laurels.
No. 233. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27.
Tanquam hæc sint nostri medicina furoris,
I shall, in this paper, discharge myself of the promise I have made to the public, by obliging them with a translation of the little Greek manuscript, which is said to have been a piece of those records that is preserved in the temple of Apollo upon the promontory of Leucate: it is a short history of the lover's leap, and is inscribed, 'An account of persons, male and female, who offered up their vows in the temple of the Pythian Apollo, in the forty-sixth olympiad, and leaped from the promontory of Leucate, into the Ionian sea, in order to cure themselves of the passion of love:'
This account is very dry in many parts, as only mentioning the name of the lover who leaped, the person he leaped for, and relating in short, that he was either
cured, or killed, or maimed, by the fall. It indeed gives the names of so many who died by it, that it would have looked like a bill of mortality had I translated it at full length ; I have therefore made an abridgment of it, and only extracted such particular passages as have something extraordinary, either in the case, or in the cure, or in the fate of the person who is mentioned in it. After this short preface, take the account as follows.
Battus, the son of Menalcas, the Sicilian, leaped for Bombyca the musician : got rid of his passion with the loss of his right leg and arm, which were broken in the fall.
Melissa, in love with Daphnis, very much bruised, but escaped with life.
Cynisca, the wife of Æschines, being in love with Lycus; and Æschines her husband being in love with Eurilla; (which had made this married couple very uneasy to one another for several years) both the husband and the wife took the leap by consent; they both of them escaped, and have lived very happily together ever since.
Larissa, a virgin of Thessaly deserted by Plexippus, after a courtship of three years; she stood upon the brow of the promontory for some time, and having thrown down a ring, a bracelet, and a little picture, with other presents which she had received from Plexippus, she threw herself into the sea, and was taken up alive.
N. B. Larissa, before she leaped, made an offering of a silver Cupid in the temple of Apollo.
Simætha, in love with Daphnis the Myndian, perished in the fall.
Charixus, the brother of Sappho, in love with Rhodope the courtezan, having spent his whole estate upon her, was advised by his sister to leap in the beginning of his amour, but would not hearken to her till he was reduced to his last talent ; being forsaken by Rhodope, at length resolved to take the leap. Perished in it.
Aridæus, a beautiful youth of Epirus, in love with
Praxinoe, the wife of Thespis, escaped without damage, saving only that two of his foreteeth were struck out, and his nose a little flatted.
Cleora, a widow of Ephesus, being inconsolable for the death of her husband, was resolved to take this leap, in order to get rid of her passion for his memory; but being arrived at the promontory, she there met with Dimmachus the Miletian, and after a short conversation with him, laid aside the thoughts of her leap, and married him in the temple of Apollo.
N. B. Her widow's weeds are still to be seen hanging up in the western corner of the temple.
Olphis, the fisherman, having received a box on the ear from Thestylis the day before, and being determined to have no more to do with her, leaped, and escaped with life.
Atalanta, an old maid, whose cruelty had several years before driven two or three despairing lovers to this leap; being now in the fifty-fifth year of her age, and in love with an officer of Sparta, broke her neck in the fall.
Hipparchus being passionately fond of his own wife, who was enamoured of Bathyllus, leaped and died of his fall ; upon which his wife married her gallant.
Tettyx, the dancing-master, in love with Olympia, an Athenian matron, threw himself from the rock with great agility, but was crippled in the fall.
Diagoras, the usurer, in love with his cook-maid ; he peeped several times over the precipice, but his heart misgiving him, he went back, and married her that evening.
Cinædus, after having entered his own name in the Pythian records, being asked the name of the person whom he leaped for, and being ashamed to discover it, he was set aside, and not suffered to leap.
Eunica, a maid of Paphos, aged nineteen, in love with Eurybates. Hurt in the fall, but recovered.
N. B. This was her second time of leaping.
Hesperus, a young man of Tarentum, in love with his master's daughter. Drowned, the boats not coming in soon enough to his relief.
Sappho the Lesbian, in love with Phaon, arrived at the temple of Apollo, habited like a bride in garments as white as snow. She wore a garland of myrtle on her head, and carried in her hand the little musical instrument of her own invention. After having sung an hymn to Apollo, she hung up her garland on one side of his altar, and her harp on the other. She then tucked up, her vestments like a Spartan virgin, and amidst thousands of spectators, who were anxious for her safety, and offered up vows for her deliverance, marched directly forwards to the utmost summit of the promontory, where after having repeated a stanza of her own verses, which we could not hear, she threw herself off the rock with such an intrepidity, as was never before observed in any who had attempted that dangerous leap. Many, who were present, related, that they saw her fall into the sea, from whence she never rose again ; though there were others who affirmed, that she never came to the bottom of her leap; but that she was changed into a swan as she fell, and that they saw her hovering in the air under that shape. But whether or no the whiteness and fluttering of her garments might not deceive those who looked upon her, or whether she might not really be metamorphosed into that musical and melancholy bird, is still a doubt among the Lesbians.
Alcæus, the famous Lyric poet, who had for some time been passionately in love with Sappho, arrived at the promontory of Leucate that very evening, in order to take the leap upon her account; but hearing that Sappho had been there before him, and that her body could be no where found, he very generously lamented her fall, and is said to have written his hundred and twenty-fifth ode upon that occasion.
Leaped in this Olympiad 250.
No. 235. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29.
THERE is nothing which lies more within the province of a Spectator than public shows and diversions; and as among these there are none which can pretend to vie with those elegant entertainments that are exhibited in our theatres, I think it particularly incumbent on me to take notice of every thing that is remarkable in such numerous and refined assemblies.
It is observed, that of late years, there has been a certain person in the upper gallery of the playhouse, who when he is pleased with any thing that is acted upon the stage, expresses his approbation by a loud knock upon the benches or the wainscot, which may be heard over the whole theatre. This person is commonly known by the name of the • Trunk-maker in the upper gallery. Whether it be, that the blow he gives on these occasions resembles that which is often heard in the shops of such artizans, or that he was supposed to have been a real trunk-maker, who, after the finishing of his day's work, used to unbend his mind at these public diversions with his hammer in his hand, I cannot certainly tell. There are some, I know, who have been foolish enough to imagine it is a spirit which haunts the upper gallery, and from time to time makes those strange noises; and the rather, because he is observed to be louder than ordinary every time the ghost of Hamlet appears. Others have reported that it is a dumb man, who has chosen this way of uttering himself, when he is transported with any thing he sees or hears. Others will have it to be the play-house thunderer, that exerts himself after this manner in the upper gallery, when he has nothing to do upon the roof.
But having made it my business to get the best information I could in a matter of this moment, I find that