dent Conduct of Stentor in that Cathedral. This Gentleman, you must know, is always very exact and zealous in his Devotion, which, I believe, no Body blames, but then he is accustom'd to roar and bellow fo terribly loud in the Refponses, that he frightens even us of the Congregation, who are daily us'd to him; and one of our Petty-Canons, à Punning Cambridge Scholar, calls his Way of Worship, a Bull-Offering. His harsh untunable Pipe is no more fit than a Raven's to join with the Mufick of a Choir; yet no Body having been enough his Friend, I fuppofe, to inform him of it, he never fails, when prefent, to drown the Harmony of every Hymn and Anthem, by an Inundation of Sound beyond that of the Bridge at the Ebb of the Tide, or the neighbouring Lions in the Anguish of their Hunger. This is a Grievance which, to my certain Knowledge, Several worthy People defire to fee redress'd; and if by inserting this Epiftle in your Paper, or by reprefenting the Matter your own Way, you can convince Stentor, that Discord in a Choir is the fame Sin that Schifm is in the Church in general, you would lay a great Obligation upon us, and make fome Attonement for certain of your Paragraphs which have not been highly approved by us. I am,

St. Paul's Churchyard, Aug. 11.

SIR,

Your most humble Servant,
Feoffry Chanticleer:

It is wonderful there fhould be fuch a general Lamentation, and the Grievance fo frequent, and yet the Offender never know any Thing of it. I have received the following Letter

from

from my Kinsman at the Herald's-Office, near

the fame Place.

Dear Coufin,

TH

HIS Office, which has had its Share in the impartial Justice of your Cenfures, demands at prefent your Vindication of their Rights and Pri vileges. There are certain Hours when our young Heralds are exercis'd in the Faculties of making Proclamation, and other Vociferations, which of Right belong to us only to utter: But at the fame Hours, Stentor in St. Paul's Church, in Spight of the Coaches, Carts, London Cries, and all other Sounds between us, exalts his Throat to fo high a Key, that the most Noify of our Order is utterly unbeard. If you please to obferve upon this, you will ever oblige, &c.

There have been communicated to me fome other ill Confequences from the fame Cause 5 as, the overturning of Coaches by fudden Starts of the Horses as they pafs'd that Way, Women pregnant frighten'd, and Heirs to Familes loft, which are Publick Difafters, tho' arifing from a good Intention: But it is hoped, after this Admonition, that Stentor will avoid an A&t of great Supererogation, as finging without a Voice.

fo

But I am diverted from profecuting Stentor's Reformation, by an Account, That the Two faithful Lovers, Lifander and Coriana, are dead; for no longer ago than the first of the laft Month they fwore eternal Fidelity to each other, and to love till Death. Ever fince that Time, Lifan

+

31 der has been twice a Day at the Chocolatehouse, vifits in every Circle, is miffing Four Hours in Four and Twenty, and will give no Account of himself. These are undoubted Proofs of the Departure of a Lover; and confequently Coriana is alfo dead as a Mistress. I have written to Stentor to give this Couple Three Calls at the Church-Door, which they must hear, if they are living within the Bills of Mortality; and if they do not answer at that Time, they are from that Moment added to the Number of my Defunct.

The TATLER. [N° 55.

Paulo Majora canamus.

From Saturday Aug. 13. to Tuesday Aug. 16. 1709. White's Chocolate-house, Aug. 15.

HILE others are bufied in Relations

WHI
W which concern the Interests of Princes,

the Peace of Nations, and the Revolutions of Empire, I think (tho' these are very great Subjects) my Theme of Difcourfe is fometimes to be of Matters of a yet higher Confideration. The flow Steps of Providence and Nature, and strange Events which are brought about in an Inftant, are what, as they come within our View and Obfervation, fhall be given to the Publick. Such Things are not accompanied with Show and Noife, and therefore feldom draw the Eyes

ナ

of

of the unattentive Part of Mankind; but are very proper at once to exercife our Humanity, please our Imaginations, and improve our Judgments. It It may not therefore be unuseful to relate many Čircumftances, which were obfervable upon a late Cure done upon a young Gentleman who was born Blind, and on the 29th of June laft received his Sight at the Age of Twenty Years, by the Operation of an Oculift. This happened no farther off than Newington, and the Work was prepar'd for in the following Manner. The Operator, Mr. Grant, having obferved the Eyes of his Patient, and convinced his Friends and Relations, among others the Reverend Mr. Cafwell Minister of the Place, that it was highly probable he should remove the Obstacle which prevented the Use of his Sight; all his Acquaintance, who had any Regard for the young Man, or Curiofity to be present when one of full Age and Understanding received a new Sense, affembled themselves on this Occasion. Mr. Cafwell being a Gentleman particularly curious, defired the whole Company, in case the Blindness should be cured, to keep Silence, and let the Patient make his own Observations, without the Direction of any Thing he had received by his other Senses, or the Advantage of discovering his Friends, by their voices. Among feveral others, the Mother, Brethren, Sifters, and a young Gentlewoman for whom he had a Paffion, were present. The Work was performed with great Skill and Dexterity. When the Patient first re ceived the Dawn of Light, there appeared such

an Extacy in his A&ion, that he feemed ready to fwoon away in the Surprize of Joy and Wonder. The Surgeon ftood before him with his Inftruments in his Hand. The young Man obferved him from Head to Foot; after which he furveyed himself as carefully, and feem'd to compare him to himself; and obferving both their Hands, feem'd to think they were exactly alike, except the Inftruments, which he took for Parts of his Hands. When he had continued in this Amazement fome Time, his Mother could not longer bear the Agitations of fo many Paffions as throng'd upon her, but fell upon his Neck, crying out, My Son! My Son! The Youth knew her Voice, and could speak no more than, Oh me! Are you my Mother? and fainted. The whole Room, you will eafily conceive, were very affectionately employed in recovering him; but above all, the young Gentlewoman who loved him, and whom he loved, fhreik'd in the loudest Manner. That Voice feem'd to have a fudden Effect upon him as he recover'd, and he showed a double Curiofity in observing her as the spoke and call'd to him; till at last he broke out, What has been done to me? Whither am I carried? Is all this about me, the Thing I have heard fo often of? Is this the Light? Is this Seeing? Were you always thus happy, when you faid you were glad to fee each other? Where is Tom, who ufed to lead me? But I could now, methinks, go any where without him. He offered to move, but feem'd afraid of every Thing around him. When they faw his Difficulty, they told [Vol. 2.]

D

him,