e most memorable widow in history is Queen our preservation, it is no wonder that it sticks close to us as long as we have any thing we are willing to preserve. But as life, and all its enjoyments, would be scarce worth the keeping, if we were under a perpetual dread of losing them, it is the business of religion and philosophy to free us from all unnecessary anxieties, and direct our fear to its proper object. If we consider the painfulness of this passion, and the violent effects it produces, we shall see how dangerous it is to give way to it upon slight occasions. Some have frightened themselves into madness, others have given up their lives to these apprehensions. The story of a man who grew grey in the space of one night's anxiety is very famous. 'O! nox quam longa es, quæ facis una senem ! shall add to these illustrious examples out of ent story, a remarkable instance of the deliof our ancestors, in relation to the state of ⚫ A tedious night indeed, that makes a young man old ! whood, as I find it recorded in Cowell's Ineter. At East and West Enborne, in the These apprehensions, if they proceed from a con ty of Berks, if a customary tenant die, the sciousness of guilt, are the sad warnings of reason; w shall have what the law calls her free hench and may excite our pity, but admit of no remedy. ! his copyhold lands, dum sola el casta fuerit; When the hand of the Almighty is visibly lifted is, while she lives single and chaste; but if she against the impious, the heart of mortal man canit incontinency she forfeits her estate; yet if not withstand him. We have this passion sublimely vill come into the court, riding backward upon represented in the punishment of the Egyptians, ck ram, with his tail in her hand, and say the tormented with the plague of darkness, in the apoIs following, the steward is bound by the cus-cryphal book of Wisdom, ascribed to Solomon. tre-admit her to her freebench * *; • Here I am, Riding upon a black ram, Like a whore as I am; And for my crineum craneum, Have lost my bincum bancum; Therefore I pray you, Mr. Steward, let me have my Se like custom there is in the manor of Torre, is not impossible but I may in a little time ent you with a register of Berkshire ladies, and r western dames, who rode publicly upon this sion; and I hope the town will be entertained a cavalcade of widows +. 15. WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1714. Qui Deorum HOR. Od. ix. 1. 4. ver. 47. Who spend their treasure freely, as 'twas giv'n sy the large bounty of indulgent heav'n: Who in a fix'd unalterable state Sinile at the doubtful tide of fate, And scorn alike her friendship and her hate: Loth to purchase life so dear; But kindly for their friend embrace cold death, d seal their country's love with their departing breath. STEPNEY. must be owned that fear is a very powerful ion, since it is esteemed one of the greatest of es to subdue it. It being implanted in us for See Jacob's Law Dictionary, art. Free-bench.-Frank , or Free-bench [Sedes Libera, or in Law-Latin FranBancus, is that estate in copyhold lands, which the being married, a virgin hath after the decease of her and for her dower. Fitzherbert calls this a custom by h in some cities the wife shall have all the lands of her and for dower.-Les Termes de la Ley, edit. 1667, p. 575. See No 623. The custom in the manors of East and West ne, of Torre, and other parts in the West of England, kind of penance among jocular tenures, to purge the ce, and has there it seems the force and validity of ate law. Jacob's Dict. ut supra, edit. 1736, in folio. For when unrighteous men thought to oppress the holy nation; they being shut up in their houses, the prisoners of darkness, and fettered with the bonds of a long night, lay there exiled from the eternal Providence. For while they supposed to lie hid in their secret sins, they were scattered under a dark veil of forgetfulness, being horribly astonished and troubled with strange apparitions.For wickedness, condemned by her own witness, is very timorous, and, being oppressed with conscience, always forecasteth grievous things. For fear is nothing else but a betraying of the succours which reason offereth-For the whole world shineth with clear light, and none were hindered in their labour. Over them only was spread a heavy night, an image of that darkness which should afterwards receive them; but yet were they unto themselves more grievous than the darkness". To fear so justly grounded, no remedy can 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 and unmanly passion) would do well to consider that there is nothing which deserves his fear, but that beneficent Being who is his friend, his protector, his father. Were this one thought strongly fixed in the mind, what calamity would be dreadful? What load can infamy lay upon us when we are 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 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. The tyrant's fierceness he begniles, Not the rough whirlwind that deforms That flings the thunder from the sky, And gives it rage to roar, and strength to fly. Should the whole frame of nature round him break, He, unconcern'd, would hear the mighty crack, The vanity of fear may be yet further illustrated if we reflect, and humour are no less poorly recommende v of ordinary readers, generally abound i than wit. First, What we fear may not come to pass. No human scheme can be so accurately projected, 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 which gave me so lively an idea of it, that I a I lately saw an instance of this kind of ten thousand accidents, or an immediate change in the inclinations of men, disconcert the most sub-gentleman who showed it to me. It is writ not forbear begging a copy of the letter fro tle project, and turn it to the benefit of his own a country wit, upon the occasion of the rej on the day of the king's coronation. servants. 6 DEAR JACK, 'Past two o'clock an 'frosty morning magistracy was pretty well disguised before i 17 In the next place we should consider, though the evil we imagine should come to pass, it may be much more supportable than it appeared to be. As there is no prosperous state of life without its I HAVE just left the right worshipful and kecalamities, so there is no adversity without its be-midons about a sneaker of five gallons. The ** nefits. Ask the great and powerful if they do not feel the pangs of envy and ambition. Inquire of the poor and needy if they have not tasted the sweets of quiet and contentment. Even under the pains of body, the infidelity of friends, or the misconstructions put upon our laudable actions; our minds, when for some time accustomed to these the whore of Babylon. The devil acted be "At nine o'clock in the evening we set pressures, are sensible of secret flowings of comfort, the present reward of a pious resignation, to a miracle. He has made his fortune by it The evils of this life appear like rocks and preci-nest old Brown of England was very drank. equipped the young dog with a tester apiece. pices, rugged and barren at a distance; but at our showed his loyalty to the tune of a hundred rack nearer approach we find little fruitful spots, and The mob drank the king's health on their mo refreshing springs, mixed with the harshness and bones, in Mother Day's double. They whipper. half a dozen hogsheads. Poor Tom Tyler had e to have been demolished with the end of a 4 deformities of nature. In the last place we may comfort ourselves with this consideration, that, as the thing feared may not reach us, so we may not reach what we fear. Our lives may not extend to that dreadful point which we have in view. He who knows all our failings, and will not suffer us to be tempted beyond our strength, is often pleased, in his tender severity, to separate the soul from its body and miseries together. rocket, that fell upon the bridge of his ora The mob were very loyal until about ad was drinking the king's health, and sported in when they grew a little mutinous for more They had like to have dumfounded the justice, his clerk came in to his assistance, and Louk wee all down in black and white, the king's English. Clack was the ward. "When I had been buzzaed out of my If we look forward to him for help, we shall never be in danger of falling down those preci-guzzling very comfortably. Mrs. Mavers senses, I made a visit to the women, pices 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, N° 616. FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1714, Qui belius homo est, Cotta, pusillus homo est. MART. Ep, x. 1. 1. A pretty fellow is but half a inan. 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 an expectation, and loses the advantage of giving surprise. Wit 'I forgot to tell thee that every one of the sent us down a cargo of ribbon and metre had his hat cocked with a disuch; the occasion. 'Sir Richard, to show bis zeal for the Pres religion, is at the expense of a tar-barri aaball. I peeped into the knight's great ka, at saw a very pretty bevy of spinsters. My lict was amongst them, and ambled in a cHES" dance as notably as the best of them. May all his majesty's liege subject, Jave him li well as his good people of this his ances Adieu,' THERE are two extremes, in the style of humour, one of which consists in the use of that little pert phraseology which I took notice of in my last paper; the other in the affectation of strained and pompous expressions, fetched from the learned languages. The first savours too much of the town; the other of the college. As nothing illustrates better than example, I shall here present my reader with a letter of pedantic humour, which was written by a young gentleman of the university to his friend, on the same occasion, and from the same place, as the lively epistle published in my last Spectator: DEAR CHUM *, Ir is now the third watch of the night, the greatest part of which I have spent round a capacious bowl of china, filled with the choicest products of both the Indies. I was placed at a quadrangular table, diametrically opposite to the mace-bearer. The visage of that venerable herald was, according to custom, most gloriously illuminated on this joy ful occasion. The mayor and aldermen, those pillars of our constitution, began to totter; and if any one at the board could have so far articulated, as to have demanded intelligibly a reinforcement of liquor, the whole assembly had been by this time extended under the table. The celebration of this night's solemnity was opened by the obstreperous joy of drummers, who, with their parchment thunder, gave a signal for the appearance of the mob under their several classes and denominations. They were quickly joined by the melodious clank of marrowbone and cleaver, while a chorus of bells filled up the concert. A pyramid of stack-faggots cheered the hearts of the populace with the promise of a blaze; the guns had no sooner uttered the prologue, but the heavens were brightened with artificial meteors and stars of our own making; and all the Highstreet lighted up from one end to another with a galaxy of candles. We collected a largess for the multitude, who tippled eleemosynary until they grew exceedingly vociferous. There was a pasteboard pontiff, with a little swarthy 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 headpiecet. 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 commous 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.' 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 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 he will know that the Cynic's tenement is a tub, and Bacchus's cast-coat a hogshead, &c. "Twas night, and Heav'n, a Cyclops all the day, The pile, still big with undiscover'd shows, The Tuscan pile did last its freight disclose, Where the proud tops of Rome's new Etna rise, Whence giants sally and invade the skies. 'Whilst now the multitude expect the time, And their tir'd eyes the lofty mountain climb, As thousand iron mouths their voices try, And thunder out a dreadful harmony, In treble notes the small artill'ry plays, The deep-mouth'd cannon bellows in the bass, The lab'ring pile now heaves, and, having given -Proofs of its travail, sighs in flames to Heaven. "The clouds envelop'd Heav'n from human sight, 'Tall groves of trees the Hadrian tow'r surround, A seven-fold shield of spheres doth heaven defend, With joy, great sir, we view'd this pompous show, * These verses are translated from the Latin in Strada's Prolusiones Academicæ, &c. and are an imitation originally of the style and manner of Camillo Querno, surnamed the Arch-poet, who was poet and buffoon to Leo X. and the common butt of that facetiou, pontiff and his courtiers. See Bayle's Dictionary, art. Leo X. and Seward's Anecdotes, vol. iii. edit. 1798, p. 62. And so 'tis fit, when Leo's fires appear, though never so familiar, still remember that writes in verse, and must for that reason save a more than ordinary care not to fall into prose, a a vulgar diction, excepting where the nature an humour of the thing does necessarily require it l this point Horace hath been thought by some en N° 618. WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1714. to be sometimes careless, as well as too regle Neque enim concludere versum Direris esse satis: neque siguis seribat, uti nos, Sermoni propiora, putes hunc esse poetam. 'Tis not enough the measur'd feet to close; MR. SPECTATOR, You having, in your two last Spectators, given the town a couple of remarkable letters in very different styles, I take this opportunity to 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 love-letters, letters of friendship, and letters upon mournful occasions in the other I shall place such epistles in verse as may property 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 rot his wit, but the delicacy and tenderness of his sentiments, that will affect his readers. His versification likewise should be soft, and all his numbers flowing and querulous. The qualifications requisite for writing epistles, after the model given us by Horace, are of a quite different nature. He that would excel in this kind must have a good fund of strong masculine sense: to this there must be joined a thorough knowledge of mankind, together with an insight into the business and the prevailing humours of the age. Our author must have his mind well seasoned with the finest precepts of morality, and be filled with nice reflections upon the bright and the dark sides of human life; he must be a master of refined raillery, and understand the delicacies as well as the absurdities of conversation. He must have a lively turn of wit, with an easy and concise manner of expression: every thing he says must be in a free and disengaged manner. He must be guilty of nothing that betrays the air of a recluse, but appear a man of the world throughout. His illustrations, his comparisons, and the greatest part of his images, nust be drawn from common life. Strokes of sa of his versification; of which he seems to have be sensible himself. · All I have to add is, that both these mazum of writing may be made as entertaining, in the way, as any other species of poetry, if und taken by persons duly qualified: and the fa sort may be managed so as to become in a peculia manner instructive. I am, &c.' I shall add an observation or two to the remarks of my ingenious correspondent; and, in the tre place, take notice, that subjects of the most ablime nature are often treated in the epistolary may with advantage, as in the famous epistle of Horan to Augustus. The poet surprises us with his pos”, and seems rather betrayed into his subject than to have aimed at it by design. He appears, like the visit of a king incognito, with a mixture of fam liarity and grandeur. In works of this kind, when the dignity of the subject hurries the poet into de scriptions and sentiments seemingly unpremed tated, by a sort of inspiration, it is usual for h to recollect himself, and fall back gracefully ins the natural style of a letter. I might here mention an epistolary poem, jos published by Mr. Eusden, on the king's accessing to the throne*, wherein, among many other noble and beautiful strokes of poetry, his reader may see this rule very happily observed. N° 619. FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1714. dura Exerce imperia, et ramos compesce flueuter And lop the too luxuriant boughs away. I HAVE often thought that if the several letten which are written to me under the character of Spectator, and which I have not made use of unentertaining collectiont. The variety of the were published in a volume, they would not be a subjects, styles, sentiments, and informations, shira are transmitted to me, would lead a very curious, great many pages. or very idle, reader, insensibly along through a I know some authors who would pick up a secret history out of such mate rials, and make a bookseller an alderman by the original papers in a room set apart for that pr copy. I shall therefore carefully preserve the pose, to the end that they may be of service to owning the receipt of several letters, lately com posterity; but shall at present content myself with to my hands, the authors whereof are impatest for an answer. Charissa, whose letter is dated from Comill desires to be eased in some scruples relating to the A letter to Mr. Addison, on the King's accesa trúf throne. tire and criticism, as well as panegyric, judiciously sion) by Charles Lillie, in 2 vols. 8vo. 1725. + They were afterwards published (with Steele's perma We suppose this to have been an allusion to Mr. Ját Barber, who had been a bookseller, was at this time 22 108¥ man, and afterwards lord mayor of London. skill of astrologers. Referred to the dumb man for an answer. J. C. who proposes a love-case, as he calls it, to the love-casuist, is hereby desired to speak of it to the minister of the parish; it being a case of conscience. The poor young lady, whose letter is dated October 26, who complains of a harsh guardian, and an unkind brother, can only have my good wishes, unless she pleases to be more particular. The petition of a certain gentleman, whose name I have forgot, famous for renewing the curls of decayed periwigs, is referred to the censor of small wares.' The remonstrance of T. C. against the profanation of the sabbath by barbers, shoe-cleaners, &c. had better be offered to the society of reformers.' A learned and laborious treatise upon the art of fencing, returned to the author.' To the gentleman of Oxford, who desires ine to insert a copy of Latin verses, which were denied a place in the university book. Answer: Nonum prematur in annum. To my learned correspondent who writes against masters' gowns, and poke sleeves, with a word in defence of large scarves. Answer: I resolve not to raise animosities amongst the clergy.' To the lady who writes with rage against one of her own sex, upon the account of party warmth. Answer: Is not the lady she writes against reckoned handsome?' 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 I 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.' ¢ THE ROYAL PROGRESS. When Brunswick first appear'd, each honest heart; A third awakes some druid, to foretel While the mind nauseates what she can't believe. By longing nations for the throne design'd, And call'd to guard the rights of humankind; With secret grief his godlike soul repines, And Britain's crown with joyless lustre shines, While pray'rs and tears his destin'd progress stay, And crowds of mourners choke their sov'reign's way. Not so he march'd when hostile squadrons stood In scenes of death, and fir'd his generous blood; When his hot courser paw'd th' Hungarian plain, And adverse legions stood the shock in vain. His frontiers past, the Belgian bounds he views, And cross the level fields his march pursues. Here, pleas'd the land of freedom to survey, He greatly scorns the thirst of boundless sway. O'er the thin soil, with silent joy, he spies Transplanted woods, and borrow'd verdure rise; Where ev'ry meadow won with toil and blood, From haughty tyrants, and the raging flot, With fruits and flowers the careful hind supplies, And clothes the marshes in a rich discuse. Such wealth for frugal hands doth Heaven decree, And such thy gifts, celestial Liberty! 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 waits, till eastern gales Henceforth thy kingdoms shall remain confin'd But see, to Britain's isle the squadron stand, |