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we find celebrated as the scene of some famous action, or retaining any footsteps of a Cato, Cicero, or Brutus, or some such great virtuous man. A nearer view of any such particular, though really little and trifling in itself, may serve the more powerfully to warm a generous mind to an emulation of their virtues, and a greater ardency of am

tremely unlike it. From hence my thoughts took occasion to ramble into the general notion of travelling, as it is now made a part of education. Nothing is more frequent than to take a lad from grammar and taw, and, under the tuition of some poor scholar, who is willing to be banished for thirty pounds a year, and a little victuals, send him crying and snivelling into foreign coun-bition to imitate their bright examples, if it tries. Thus he spends his time as children do at puppet-shows, and with much the same advantage, in staring and gaping at an amazing variety of strange things; strange indeed to one who is not prepared to comprehend the reasons and meaning of them, whilst he should be laying the solid foundations of knowledge in his mind, and furnishing it with just rules to direct his future progress in life under some skilful master of the art of instruction.

'Can there be a more astonishing thought in nature, than to consider how men should fall into so palpable a mistake? It is a large field, and may very well exercise a sprightly genius; but I do not remember you have yet taken a turn in it. I wish, sir, you would make people understand that "travel" is really the last step to be taken in the institution of youth, and that to set out with it, is to begin where they should end.

comes duly tempered and prepared for the impression. But this I believe you will hardly think those to be, who are so far from entering into the sense and spirit of the ancients, that they do not yet understand their language with any exactness.*

But I have wandered from my purpose, which was only to desire you to save, if pos sible, a fond English mother, and mother's own son, from being shown a ridiculous spectacle through the most polite parts of Europe. Pray tell them, that though to be sea-sick, or jumbled in an outlandish stagecoach, may perhaps be healthful for the constitution of the body, yet it is apt to cause such dizziness in young empty heads as too often lasts their life-time. I am, sir, your most humble servant.

"PHILIP HOMEBRED.’

'Birchin-lane.

"Certainly the true end of visiting foreign went peaceably to bed; but, to my surprise, 'SIR,-I was married on Sunday last, and parts, is to look into their customs and policies, and observe in what particulars they was awakened the next morning by the excel or come short of our own; to unlearn thunder of a set of drums. These warlike some odd peculiarities in our manners, and sounds (methinks) are very improper in a ← wear off such awkward stiffnesses and af-marriage-concert, and give great offence; fectations in our behaviour, as possibly may have been contracted from constantly associating with one nation of men, by a more free, general, and mixed conversation. But how can any of these advantages be attained by one who is a mere stranger to the customs and policies of his native country, and has not yet fixed in his mind the first principles of manners and behaviour? To endeavour it, is to build a gaudy structure without any foundation; or, if I may be allowed the expression, to work a rich embroidery upon a cob web.

'Another end of travelling, which deserves to be considered, is the improving our taste of the best authors of antiquity, by seeing the places where they lived, and of which they wrote; to compare the natural face of the country with the descriptions they have given us, and observe how well the picture agrees with the original. This must certainly be a most charming exercise to the mind that is rightly turned for it; besides that, it may in a good measure be made subservient to morality, if the person is capable of drawing just conclusions concerning the uncertainty of human things, from the ruinous alterations time and barbarity have brought upon so many palaces, cities, and whole countries, which make the most illustrious figures in history. And this hint may be not a little improved by examining every little spot of ground that

they seem to insinuate, that the joys of this state are short, and that jars and discords soon ensue. I fear they have been ominous to many matches, and sometimes proved a prelude to a battle in the honey-moon. A nod from you may hush them; therefore, pray, sir, let them be silenced, that for the future none but soft airs may usher in the morning of a bridal night; which will be a favour not only to those who come after, but to me, who can still subscribe myself, your most humble and most obedient servant,

'ROBIN BRIDEGROOM.'

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am one of that sort of women whom the gayer part of our sex are apt to call a prude. But to show them

*The following paragraph, in the first edition of this paper in folio, was afterwards suppressed. It is here reprinted from the Spect. in folio, No. 364. I cannot quit this head without paying my acknow. ledgments to one of the most entertaining pieces this age has produced, for the pleasure it gave me. You will easily guess that the book I have in my head is Mr. Addison's Remarks upon Italy. That ingenious gentleman has with so much art and judgment applied his exact knowledge of all the parts of classical learning, to

illustrate the several occurrences of his travels, that his work alone is a pregnant proof of what I have said. Nobody that has a taste this way, can read him going from Rome to Naples, and making Horace and Silius himself to reflect that he was not in his retinue. I am Italicus his chart, but he must feel some uneasiness in sure I wished it ten times in every page, and that not without a secret vanity to think in what state I should and in company with a countryman of my own, who, of have travelled the Appian road, with Horace for a guide, all men living, knows best how to follow his steps."

that I have very little regard to their month on the lower part of the sex, who raillery, I shall be glad to see them all at act without disguise, are very visible. It The Amorous Widow, or The Wanton is at this time that we see the young Wife, which is to be acted for the benefit wenches in a country-parish dancing round of Mrs. Porter, on Monday the 28th instant. a May-pole, which one of our learned anI assure you I can laugh at an amorous tiquaries supposes to be a relick of a cerwidow, or wanton wife, with as little tempt-tain pagan worship that I do not think fit ation to imitate them, as I could at any to mention,

and, like the virgin Tarpeia,* oppressed by the costly ornaments which her benefactors lay upon her.

other vicious character. Mrs. Porter It is likewise on the first day of this obliged me so very much in the exquisite month that we see the ruddy milk-maid sense she seemed to have of the honourable exerting herself in a most sprightly mansentiments and noble passions in the cha-ner under a pyramid of silver tankards, racter of Hermione, that I shall appear in her behalf at a comedy, though I have no great relish for any entertainments where the mirth is not seasoned with a certain severity, which ought to recommend it to people who pretend to keep reason and authority over all their actions. I am, sir, your frequent reader,

T.

'ALTAMIRA.'

No. 365.] Tuesday, April 29, 1712.

Vere magis, quia vere calor redit ossibus-
Virg. Georg. iii. 272.
But most in spring; the kindly spring inspires
Reviving heat, and kindles genial fires.

ADAPTED.

Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year,
Be greatly cautious of your sliding hearts.
Thomson's Spring, 160, &c.

I need not mention the ceremony of the green gown, which is also peculiar to this gay season.

The same periodical love-fit spreads through the whole sex, as Mr. Dryden well observes in his description of this merry month.

'For thee, sweet month, the groves green liv'ries wear,
If not the first, the fairest of the year;

For thee the graces lead the dancing hours,
And nature's ready pencil paints the flowers.
The sprightly May commands our youth to keep
The vigils of her night, and breaks their sleep;
Each gentle breast with kindly warmth she moves,
Inspires new flames, revives extinguish'd loves.'

Accordingly, among the works of the great masters in painting, who have drawn this genial season of the year, we often observe Cupids confused with Zephyrs, flyTHE author of the Menagiana acquaints ing up and down promiscuously in several us, that discoursing one day with several parts of the picture. I cannot but add ladies of quality about the effects of the from my own experience, that about this month of May, which infuses a kindly time of the year love-letters come up to warmth into the earth, and all its inhabit-me in great numbers, from all quarters of who was the nation.

ants, the marchioness of S
one of the company, told him, that though
she would promise to be chaste in every
month besides, she could not engage for
herself in May. As the beginning there-
fore of this month is now very near, I de-
sign this paper for a caveat to the fair sex,
and publish it before April is quite out,
that if any of them should be caught trip-
ping, they may not pretend they had not
timely notice.

I am induced to this, being persuaded the above-mentioned observation is as well calculated for our climate as that of France, and that some of our British ladies are of the same constitution with the French marchioness.

I shall leave it among physicians to determine what may be the cause of such an anniversary inclination; whether or no it is that the spirits, after having been as it were frozen and congealed by winter, are now turned loose and set a rambling; or, that the gay prospects of fields and meadows, with the courtship of the birds in every bush, naturally unbend the mind, and soften it to pleasure; or that, as some have imagined, a woman is prompted by a kind of instinct to throw herself on a bed of flowers, and not to let those beautiful couches which nature has provided lie useless. However it be, the effects of this VOL. II. 11

ind,

I received an epistle in particular by the last post from a Yorkshire gentleman, who makes heavy complaints of one Zelinda, whom it seems he has courted unsuccessfully these three years past. He tells me that he designs to try her this May; and if he does not carry his point, he will never think of her more.

Having thus fairly admonished the female sex, and laid before them the dangers they are exposed to in this critical month, I shall in the next place lay down some rules and directions for the better avoiding those calentures which are so very frequent in

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In the second place, I cannot but approve those prescriptions which our astrofogical physicians give in their almanacks for this month: such as are a spare and simple diet, with a moderate use of phlebotomy.'

Since I am going into quotations, I shall | That devotion to his mistress kindles in his conclude this head with Virgil's advice to mind a general tenderness, which exerts young people while they are gathering itself towards every object as well as his wild strawberries and nosegays, that they fair one. When this passion is represented should have a care of the snake in the by writers, it is common with them to engrass.' deavour at certain quaintnesses and turns of imagination, which are apparently the work of a mind at ease; but the men of true taste can easily distinguish the exertion of a mind which overflows with tender sentiments, and the labour of one which is only describing distress. In performances of this kind, the most absurd of all things is to be witty; every sentiment must grow out of the occasion, and be suitable to the circumstances of the character. Where this rule is transgressed, the humble servant in all the fine things he says, is but showing his mistress how well he can dress, instead of saying how well he loves. Lace and drapery is as much a man, as wit and turn is passion.

Under this head of abstinence I shall also advise my fair readers to be in a particular manner careful how they meddle with romances, chocolate, novels, and the like inflamers, which I look upon as very dangerous to be made use of during this great carnival of nature.

As I have often declared that I have nothing more at heart than the honour of my dear country-women, I would beg them to consider, whenever their resolutions begin to fail them, that there are but one-andthirty days of this soft season, and if they can but weather out this one month, the rest of the year will be easy to them. As for that part of the fair sex who stay in town, I would advise them to be particularly cautious how they give themselves up to their most innocent entertainments. If they cannot forbear the playhouse, I would recommend tragedy to them rather than comedy; and should think the puppet-show much safer for them than the opera, all the while the sun is in Gemini.

'MR.SPECTATOR,-The following verses are a translation of a Lapland love-song, which I met with in Scheffer's history of that country. I was agreeably surprised to find a spirit of tenderness and poetry in a region which I never suspected for delicacy. In hotter climates, though altogether uncivilized, I had not wondered if I had found some sweet wild notes among the natives, where they live in groves of oranges, and hear the melody of the birds about them. But a Lapland lyric, breathing sentiments of love and poetry, not unworthy old Greece or Rome; a regular ode from a climate pinched with frost, and cursed with darkness so great a part of the year; where it is amazing that the poor natives should get food, or be tempted to propagate their species-this, I confess, seemed a greater miracle to me than the famous stories of their drums, their winds, and en

The reader will observe, that this paper is written for the use of those ladies who think it worth while to war against nature in the cause of honour. As for that abandoned crew, who do not think virtue worth contending for, but give up their reputation at the first summons, such warnings and premonitions are thrown away upon them. A prostitute is the same easy crea-chantments. ture in all months of the year, and makes no difference between May and December. X.

No. 366.] Wednesday, April 30, 1712.

Pone me pigris ubi nulla campis
Arbor æstiva recreatur aura;
Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,

Dulce loquentem. Hor. Od. xxii. Lib. 1. 17.
Set me where on some pathless plain

The swarthy Africans complain,

To see the chariot of the sun

So near the scorching country run;

The burning zone, the frozen isles,

Shall hear me sing of Celia's smiles;
All cold, but in her breast, I will despise,
And dare all heat but that of Celia's eyes.

Roscommon.

THERE are such wild inconsistencies in the thoughts of a man in love, that I have often reflected there can be no reason for allowing him more liberty than others possessed with phrenzy, but that his distemper has no malevolence in it to any mortal.

'I am the bolder in commending this northern song, because I have faithfully kept to the sentiments, without adding or diminishing; and pretend to no greater praise from my translation, than they who smooth and clean the furs of that country which have suffered by carriage. The numbers in the original are as loose and unequal as those in which the British ladies sport their Pindarics; and perhaps the fairest of them might not think it a disagreeable present from a lover. But I have ventured to bind it in stricter measures, as being more proper for our tongue, though perhaps wilder graces may better suit the genius of the Laponian language.

'It will be necessary to imagine that the author of this song, not having the liberty of visiting his mistress at her father's house, was in hopes of spying her at a distance in her fields."

* Mr. Ambrose Phillips was the supposed author of this love-song.

"Thou rising sun, whose gladsome ray
Invites my fair to rural play,
Dispel the mist, and clear the skies,
And bring my Orra to my eyes.

Oh! were I sure my dear to view,

I'd climb that pine tree's topmost bough,
Aloft in air that quiv'ring plays,
And round and round for ever gaze.

My Orra Moor, where art thou laid?
What wood conceals my sleeping maid?
Fast by the roots enrag'd I'd tear
The trees that bide my promis'd fair.

Oh! could I ride the clouds and skies,
Or on the raven's pinions rise!
Ye storks, ye swans, a moment stay,
And waft a lover on his way!

My bliss too long my bride denies,
Apace the wasting summer flies:
Nor yet the wintry blasts I fear,

Not storms, or night shall keep me here.

What may for strength with steel compare?
Oh! love has fetters stronger far!
By bolts of steel are limbs confin'd,
But cruel love enchains the mind.

No longer then perplex thy breast;
When thoughts torment, the first are best;
'Tis mad to go, 'tis death to stay;
Away to Orra! haste away!"

'April the 10th.

follow your counsel; who am your admirer and humble servant,

'CONSTANTIA COMB-BRUSH.

'I beg that you will put it in a better dress, and let it come abroad, that my mistress, who is an admirer of your speculations, may see it.' T.

No. 367.] Thursday, May 1, 1712.

-Perituræ parcite chartæ.-Juv. Sat. i. 18.

In mercy spare us when we do our best
To make as much waste paper as the rest.

I HAVE often pleased myself with considering the two kinds of benefits which accrue to the public from these my speculations, and which, were I to speak after the manner of logicians, I would distinguish into the material and the formal. By the latter I understand those advantages which my readers receive, as their minds are either improved or delighted by these my daily labours; but having already several times descanted on my endeavours in this light, I shall at present wholly confine myself to the consideration of the former. By the word material, I mean those benefits which arise to the public from these my speculations, as they consume a considerable quantity of our paper-manufacture, employ our artisans in printing, and find business for great numbers of indigent persons.

Our paper-manufacture takes into it several mean materials which could be put to no other use, and affords work for several hands in the collection of them which are incapable of any other employment. Those poor retailers, whom we see so busy in every street, deliver in their respective gleanings to the merchant. The merchant carries them in loads to the paper-mill, where they pass through a fresh set of hands, and give life to another trade. Those who have mills on their estate, by this means considerably raise their rents, and the whole nation is in a great measure supplied with a manufacture for which formerly she was obliged to her neighbours.

'MR. SPECTATOR,-I am one of those despicable creatures called a chambermaid, and have lived with a mistress for some time, whom I love as my life, which has made my duty and pleasure inseparable. My greatest delight has been in being employed about her person; and indeed she is very seldom out of humour for a woman of her quality. But here lies my complaint, sir. To bear with me is all the encouragement she is pleased to bestow upon me; for she gives her cast-off clothes from me to others; some she is pleased to bestow in the house to those that neither want nor wear them, and some to hangers-on, that frequent the house daily, who come dressed out in them. This, sir, is a very mortifying sight to me, who am a little necessitous for clothes, and love to appear what I am; and causes an uneasiness, so that I cannot serve with that cheerfulness as formerly; which my mistress takes notice of, and calls envy and ill-temper, at seeing others preferred before me. My mistress has a younger sister The materials are no sooner wrought lives in the house with her, that is some into paper, but they are distributed among thousands below her in estate, who is conti- the presses, when they again set innumenually heaping her favours on her maid; so rable artists at work, and furnish business that she can appear every Sunday, for the to another mystery. From hence, accordfirst quarter, in a fresh suit of clothes of ingly as they are stained with news and her mistress's giving, with all other things politics, they fly through the town in Postsuitable. All this I see without envying, men, Post-boys, Daily Courants, Reviews, but not without wishing my mistress would Medleys, and Examiners. Men, women, a little consider what a discouragement it and children contend who shall be the first is to me to have my perquisites divided be- bearers of them, and get their daily sustentween fawners and jobbers, which others ance by spreading them. In short, when I enjoy entire to themselves. I have spoken trace in my mind a bundle of rags to a quire to my mistress, but to little purpose; I of Spectators, I find so many hands em have desired to be discharged (for indeed I ployed in every step they take through fret myself to nothing,) but that she an- their whole progress, that while I am swers with silence. I beg, sir, your direc-writing a Spectator, I fancy myself protion what to do, for I am fully resolved to viding bread for a multitude.

If I do not take care to obviate some of my witty readers, they will be apt to tell me, that my paper, after it is thus printed and published, is still beneficial to the public on several occasions. I must confess I have lighted my pipe with my own works for this twelvemonth past. My landlady often sends up her little daughter to desire some of my old Spectators, and has frequently told me, that the paper they are printed on is the best in the world to wrap spices in. They likewise made a good foundation for a mutton pie, as I have more than once experienced, and were very much sought for last Christmas by the whole neighbourhood.

which has passed through the hands of one of the most accurate, learned, and judicious writers this age has produced. The beauty of the paper, of the character, and of the several cuts with which this noble work is illustrated, makes it the finest book that I have ever seen; and is a true instance of the English genius, which, though it does not come the first into any art, generally carries it to greater heights than any other country in the world. I am particularly glad that this author comes from a British printing-house in so great a magnificence, as he is the first who has given us any tolerable account of our country.

My illiterate readers, if any such there are, will be surprised to hear me talk of learning as the glory of a nation, and of printing as an art that gains a reputation to a people among whom it flourishes. When men's thoughts are taken up with avarice and ambition, they cannot look upon any thing as great or valuable which does not bring with it an extraordinary power or interest to the person who is concerned in it. But as I shall never sink this paper so far as to engage with Goths and Vandals, I shall only regard such kind of reasoners with that pity which is due to so deplorable a degree of stupidity and ignorance.

It is pleasant enough to consider the changes that a linen fragment undergoes by passing through the several hands above mentioned. The finest pieces of Holland, when worn to tatters, assume a new whiteness more beautiful than the first, and often return in the shape of letters to their native country. A lady's shift may be metamorphosed into billets-doux, and come into her possession a second time. A beau may peruse his cravat after it is worn out, with greater pleasure and advantage than ever he did in a glass. In a word, a piece of cloth, after having officiated for some years as a towel or a napkin, may by this means be raised from a dunghill, and become the most valuable piece of furni- No. 368.] Friday, May 2, 1712. ture in a prince's cabinet.

The politest nations of Europe have endeavoured to vie with one another for the reputation of the finest printing. Absolute governments, as well as republics, have encouraged an art which seems to be the noblest and most beneficial that ever was invented among the sons of men. The present king of France, in his pursuits after glory, has particularly distinguished himself by the promoting of this useful art, insomuch that several books have been printed in the Louvre at his own expense, upon which he sets so great a value that he considers them as the noblest presents he can make to foreign princes and ambassadors. If we look into the commonwealths of Holland and Venice, we shall find that in this particular they have made themselves the envy of the greatest monarchies. Elzevir and Aĺdus are more frequently mentioned than any pensioner of the one or doge of the other.

The several presses which are now in England, and the great encouragement which has been given to learning for some years last past, has made our own nation as glorious upon this account as for its late triumphs and conquests. The new edition which is given us of Cæsar's Commentaries has already been taken notice of in foreign gazettes, and is a work that does honour to the English press. It is no wonder that an edition should be very correct

*A most magnificent edition of Cæsar's Commenta. ries published about this time, by Dr. Samuel Clarke.

-Nos decebat
Lugere ubi esset aliquis in lucem editus,
Humanæ vitæ varia reputantes mala:
At qui labores morte finisset graves,
Omnes amicos laude et lætitia exequi.

L.

Eurip. apud Tull.

When first an infant draws the vital air,
Officious grief should welcome him to care:
But joy should life's concluding scene attend,
And mirth be kept to grace a dying friend.

of news from the natural world, as others
As the Spectator is, in a kind, a paper
kind, I shall translate the following letter,
are from the busy and politic part of man-
written to an eminent French gentleman in
this town from Paris, which gives us the
exit of a heroine who is a pattern of pa-
tience and generosity.

'Paris, April 18, 1712. 'SIR,-It is so many years since you left your native country, that I am to tell you the characters of your nearest relations as much as if you were an utter stranger to them. The occasion of this is to give you an account of the death of Madam de Villacerfe, whose departure out of this life I know not whether a man of your philosophy will call unfortunate or not, since it was attended with some circumstances as much to be desired as to be lamented. She was her whole life happy in an uninterrupted health, and was always honoured for an evenness of temper and greatness of mind. On the 10th instant that lady was taken with an indisposition which confined her to her chamber, but was such as was

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