where they laid her, dead in all appearance, by her husband, who was in the same condition. They put off again, and with great difficulty got ashore upon one of the islands in the Texel, where the captain, coming to himself, told his men, that they would have done more kindly had they let him perish in the sea, since the life they had forced upon him must for ever be imbittered by her unhappy end, for whose sake only he had thought it worth wishing for. His wife was now recovering, and near enough to hear and answer this noble instance of his tenderness. They flew, astonished and quite lost in ecstacy, into each other's arms; and it is easier to imagine than describe what they thought and said on so transporting an occasion! Let me only add, that this relation was faithfully taken from the mouth of a gentleman, who was an eye-witness of the miraculous and providential particulars. I am, Sir, Your most humble Servant. PLAIN-DEALER, No. 88, Jan. 22, 1725. No. XXXI. Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco Large reponens. HORATIUS. Now melt away the winter's cold, FRANCIS, Sir, It has been often disputed among the philosophers, in what part of the body the soul is seated. It will not be thought, I hope, a less important inquiry, to examine what external scenes call her forth into action; whether her virtues open fairest in the sunshine, or the shade; in the closet, or the usual seat indeed of intrigue, the bed-chamber. The old sages were content, like ignoble sportsmen, to surprize her in her last retreat, the pineal gland: I follow her in her strongest efforts, whether she is pursued by want, or in pursuit of fame. The ancient poets, who are generally sup posed to be the greatest masters of thought, attributed their happy exercise of it to their great patron, the sun that they might enjoy his kind influences the freer, we find them quitting the smoke and riches of the city, for some country retirement, where they might temper the directer rays, with cooling breezes, shady groves, purling streams, and melody of birds; where they might behold nature without disguise, and copy her without interruption; where they might at once earn their laurels, and gather them. Our Northern poets think themselves warranted, at all adventures, to follow their great originals; who yet, from the difference of climate as well as circumstances, seem to stand in little need of such cooling refreshments. It would make one smile, if it were not barbarous to smile upon such an occasion, to see them, beyond even poetical fiction, invoking the gentle gales, while they are shivering under the bleak north-east, or at best when Lull'd by Zephyrs thro' a broken pane. According to their own system, we have not above four poetical months throughout the year; and yet, 'tis well known, we have verse as well as peas in all seasons; and 'tis an imposition upon our taste and judgment to make us believe, that either of them are the effects of a natural shade and sun. In short, an Italian genius may be produced by a happy mixture of both; but a British one must be owing to some other cause, more generally adequate to so great a production; and what can that be but the invigorating warmth of the chimney-corner? Here the poet may indulge the overflowing of his nature, and satisfy the wants of it: instead of bubbling streams, he is delighted with the gallopping of the pot; and, as I hinted before of the crown of laurel, may first earn his dinner, and then eat it. I know not whether it is from these vivifying qualities of the fire-side, that it has been remarked, there is a sort of antipathy between that and the sun; as if the poet's tutelary god were sensible of the force of this earthly rival, and therefore exerted all his power to its destruction. I have often wondered why our writers should not sometimes lay the scene of their poems where in reality they took their rise. The fire is surely capable of the most surprizing imagery, by being diversified (if the poet pleases) with serpents, crackers, rockets, and the like shortlived gay creation of combustibles. These, Mr. Addison has somewhere observed, are abundantly capable of fable and design; and, to our modern poets, are no less full of moral. Those that have not Italian fancy for fine prospects and latent ruins, may by this means perpetuate their names (like the wiser Dutch) in some over 、 glowing night-piece. I myself, methinks, am enamoured with my subject, and ready, with Sir John Denham, to make it an example of just writing, as well as the theme; for, lo! my chimney affords me A happy temperature of heat and light, Warm without rage, and without glaring bright. But I confine not my observations to the poets alone; I appeal to composers of all denominations, whether a brisk fire and a clean swept hearth have not brightened their imaginations, produced ideas like a kind of hot-bed, and made them amazed at their own fecundity.. 'Tis farther observable, in confirmation of my hypothesis, that the press labours most with the productions of the brain in the winter season, which seems to be the seed-time of wit, and at once (so quick is its growth) the harvest of it. The reason is, no doubt, because our writers, who are generally of tender constitutions, though of active spirits, are then under à sort of domestic confinement from the severity of the weather, and indulge themselves in the only liberty they have left them-the free use of pen, ink, and paper. In the open fields their spirits are too much dissipated; but, collected in their cham |