«Зритель (The Spectator)»

At Nine a Clock in the Evening we set Fire to the Whore of Babylon. The Devil acted his Part to a Miracle. He has made his Fortune by it. We equip'd the young Dog with a Tester a-piece. Honest old Brown of England was very drunk, and showed his Loyalty to the Tune of a hundred Rockets. The Mob drank the King's Health, on their Marrow-bones, in Mother Day's Double. They whip'd us half a dozen Hogsheads. Poor Tom Tyler had like to have been demolished with the End of a Sky-Rocket, that fell upon the Bridge of his Nose as he was drinking the King's Health, and spoiled his Tip. The Mob were very loyal 'till about Midnight, when they grew a little mutinous for more Liquor. They had like to have dumfounded the Justice; but his Clerk came in to his Assistance, and took them all down in Black and White.

When I had been huzza'd out of my Seven Senses, I made a Visit to the Women, who were guzzling very comfortably. Mrs. Mayoress clip'd the King's English. Clack was the Word.

I forgot to tell thee, that every one of the Posse had his Hat cocked with a Distich: The Senators sent us down a Cargo of Ribbon and Metre for the Occasion.

Sir Richard to shew his Zeal for the Protestant Religion, is at the Expence of a Tar-Barrel and a Ball. I peeped into the Knight's great Hall, and saw a very pretty Bevy of Spinsters. My dear Relict was amongst them, and ambled in a Country-Dance as notably as the best of 'em.

May all his Majesty's liege Subjects love him as well as his good People of this his ancient Borough. Adieu.

Footnote 1: (Two in the Morning is the Word, old Boy.)

return

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 617

Monday, November 8, 1714

Torva Mimalloneis implerunt cornua bombis,

Et raptum vitulo caput ablatura superbo

Bassaris, et lyncem Mænas flexura corymbis,

Evion ingeminat reparabilis adsonat Echo.

Persius.

last Spectator.

Dear Chum,

'It 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 joyful 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 Marrow-bone and Cleaver, whilst a Chorus of Bells filled up the Consort. A Pyramid of Stack-Faggots cheared the Hearts of the Populace with the Promise of a Blaze: The Guns had no sooner uttered the Prologue, but the Heavens were brightned with artificial Meteors, and Stars of our own making; and all the High-street lighted up from one End to another, with a Galaxy of Candles. We collected a Largess for the Multitude, who tippled Eleemosynary till they grew exceeding Vociferous. There was a Paste-board Pontiff with a little swarthy Dæmon 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 sarcastick with their Clubs, and gave the old Gentleman several Thumps upon his triple Head-piece. 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 Commons grew so very outragious, 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 Firework, that had been prepared upon the Castle of St. Angelo, begun to play before its Time, being kindled by a Flash of Lightning. The Author hath written his Poem1 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 Cynick's Tenement is a Tub, and Bacchus his Cast-coat a Hogs-head, &c.

'Twas Night, and Heav'n, a Cyclops, all the Day,

An Argus now did countless Eyes display;

In ev'ry Window Rome her Joy declares,

All bright, and studded with terrestrial Stars.

A blazing Chain of Lights her Roofs entwines.

And round her Neck the mingled Lustre shines,

The Cynick's rowling Tenement conspires,

With Bacchus his Cast-coat, to feed the Fires.

The Pile, still big with undiscover'd Shows,

The Tuscan Pile did last its Freight disclose,

Where the proud Tops of Rome's new Ætna rise,

Whence Giants sally, and invade the Skies.

Whilst now the Multitude expect the Time,

And their tir'd Eyes the lofty Mountain climb,

A 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 giv'n

Proofs of its Travail sighs in Flames to Heav'n.

The Clouds invelop'd Heav'n from Human Sight,

Quench'd every Star, and put out ev'ry Light;

Now Real Thunder grumbles in the Skies,

And in disdainful Murmurs Rome defies;

Nor doth its answer'd Challenge Rome decline;

But whilst both Parties in full Consort join,

While Heav'n and Earth in Rival Peals resound,

The doubtful Cracks the Hearer's Sense confound;

Whether the Claps of Thunderbolts they hear,

Or else the Burst of Canon wounds their Ear;

Whether Clouds raged by struggling Metals rent,

Or struggling Clouds in Roman Metals pent.

But O, my Muse, the whole Adventure tell,

As ev'ry Accident in order fell.

Tall Groves of Trees the Hadrian Tow'r surround,

Fictitious Trees with Paper Garlands crown'd,

These know no Spring, but when their Bodies sprout

In Fire, and shoot their gilded Blossoms out;

When blazing Leaves appear above their Head,

And into branching Flames their Bodies spread.

Whilst real Thunder splits the Firmament,

And Heav'n's whole Roof in one vast Cleft is rent,

The three-fork'd Tongue amidst the Rupture lolls,

Then drops and on the Airy Turret falls.

The Trees now kindle, and the Garland burns,

And thousand Thunderbolts for one returns.

Brigades of burning Archers upward fly,

Bright Spears and shining Spear-men mount on high,

Flash in the Clouds, and glitter in the Sky.

A Seven-fold Shield of Spheres doth Heav'n defend,

And back again the blunted Weapons send;

Unwillingly they fall, and dropping down,

Pour out their Souls, their sulph'rous Souls, and groan.

With Joy, great Sir , we viewed this pompous Show,

While Heaven, that sate Spectator still 'till now,

It self turn'd Actor, proud to Pleasure you.

And so 'tis fit, when Leo's fires appear,

That Heav'n it self should turn an Engineer;

That Heav'n it self should all its Wonders show,

And Orbs above consent with Orbs below.

Footnote 1: Prolusions.

return to footnote mark

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 618

Wednesday, November 10, 1714

—Neque enim concludere versum

Dixeris esse satis: neque siquis scribat, uti nos,

Sermoni propiora, putes hunc esse Poetam.

Hor.

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 it self; 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 any Nation, been so much cultivated, as the other several Kinds of Poesie. 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 amongst 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 properly 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 easie, since it is not 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 easie 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 must be drawn from common Life. Strokes of Satyr and Criticism, as well as Panegyrick, judiciously thrown in (and as it were by the by) give a wonderful Life and Ornament to Compositions of this kind. But let our Poet, while he writes Epistles, though never so familiar, still remember that he writes in Verse, and must for that reason have a more than ordinary care not to fall into Prose, and a vulgar Diction, excepting where the Nature and Humour of the Thing does necessarily require it. In this Point Horace hath been thought by some Criticks to be sometimes careless, as well as too negligent of his Versification; of which he seems to have been sensible himself.

'All I have to add is, that both these Manners of Writing may be made as entertaining, in their Way, as any other Species of Poetry, if undertaken by Persons duly qualify'd; and the latter sort may be managed so as to become in a peculiar manner Instructive. I am, &ct.'

Horace Augustus. Incognito

Eusden

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 619

Friday, November 12, 1714

—dura

Exerce imperia, et ramos compesce fluentes.

Virg.

would Secret History 1

Charissa Cornhill Sir Referred to the Dumb Man for an Answer.

J. C. Sir

October

Censor of small Wares.

T. C. &c. the Society of Reformers.

returned to the Author.

Oxford Sir Latin Nonumque prematur in annum.

I resolve not to raise Animosities amongst the Clergy.

Is not the Lady she writes against reckoned Handsome?

Sir Tom Truelove Sir

Sweden That I believe he is alive.

Dapperwit What is that long Story of the Cuckoldom to me?

Sir Monimia's The Faithful

Charles Cocksure very reasonable—Rejected.

Philander Sir Postponed.

Sir S. R. under the Sun

P. S. Sir Not to be printed entire.

Footnote 1: Tatler Spectator

return to footnote mark

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 620

Monday, November 15, 1714

Томас Тикелл

Hic Vir, hic est, tibi quem promitti sæpius audis.

Virg.

The Prospect of Peace

The Royal Progress.

When Brunswick first appear'd, each honest Heart,

Intent on Verse, disdain'd the Rules of Art;

For him the Songsters, in unmeasur'd Odes,

Debas'd and dethron'd the Gods,

In Golden Chains the Kings of led,

Or rent the Turban from the Head.

One, in old Fables, and the Strain,

With and wafts him o'er the Main;

Another draws fierce in Arms,

And fills th' Infernal Region with Alarms;

A Third awakes some to foretel

Each future Triumph from his dreary Cell.

Exploded Fancies! that in vain deceive,

While the Mind nauseates what she can't believe.

My Muse th' expected1 Hero shall pursue

From Clime to Clime, and keep him still in View;

His shining March describe in faithful Lays,

Content to paint him, nor presume to praise;

Their Charms, if Charms they have, the Truth supplies,

And from the Theme unlabour'd Beauties rise.

By longing Nations for the Throne design'd,

And call'd to guard the Rights of Human-kind;

With secret Grief his God-like Soul repines,

And Crown with joyless Lustre shines,

While Prayers and Tears his destin'd Progress stay,

And Crowds of Mourners choak their Sovereign'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' Plain,

And adverse Legions stood the Shock in vain.

His Frontiers past, the 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 every Meadow won with Toil and Blood,

From haughty Tyrants, and the raging Flood,

With Fruits and Flowers the careful Hind supplies,

And cloathes the Marshes in a rich Disguise.

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 Heroe with insatiate Eyes.

In Towers he waits, 'till Eastern Gales

Propitious rise to swell the Sails.

Hither the Fame of Monarch brings

The Vows and Friendships of the neighb'ring Kings;

Mature in Wisdom, his extensive Mind

Takes in the blended Int'rests of Mankind,

The World's great Patriot. Calm thy anxious Breast,

Secure in him take thy Rest;

Henceforth thy Kingdoms shall remain confined

By Rocks or Streams, the Mounds which Heav'n design'd:

The their new-made Monarch shall restrain,

Nor shall thy Hills rise in vain

But see! to Isle the Squadrons stand,

And leave the sinking Towers, and lessening Land,

The Royal Bark bounds o'er the floating Plain,

Breaks thro' the Billows, and divides the Main,

O'er the vast Deep, Great Monarch, dart thine Eyes,

A watry Prospect bounded by the Skies:

Ten thousand Vessels, from ten thousand Shores,

Bring Gums and Gold, and either Stores:

Behold the Tributes hastening to thy Throne,

And see the wide Horizon all thy own.

Still is it thine; tho' now the cheerful Crew

Hail Cliffs, just whitening to the View.

Before the Wind with swelling Sails they ride,

Till receives them in his opening Tide.

The Monarch hears the thundering Peals around,

From trembling Woods and ecchoing Hills rebound,

Nor misses yet, amid the deafening Train,

The Roarings of the hoarse-resounding Main.

As in the Flood he sails, from either Side

He views his Kingdom in its rural Pride;

A various Scene the wide-spread Landskip yields,

O'er rich Enclosures and luxuriant Fields:

A lowing Herd each fertile Pasture fills,

And distant Flocks stray o'er a thousand Hills.

Fair hid in Woods, with new Delight,

(Shade above Shade) now rises to the Sight:

His Woods ordain'd to visit every Shore,

And guard the Island which they graced before.

The Sun now rowling down the Western Way,

A Blaze of Fires renews the fading Day;

Unnumbered Barks the Regal Barge infold,

Brightening the Twilight with its beamy Gold;

Less thick the finny Shoals, a countless Fry,

Before the Whale or kingly Dolphin fly.

In one vast Shout he seeks the crowded Strand,

And in a Peal of Thunder gains the Land.

Welcome, great Stranger, to our longing Eyes,

Oh! King deSir 'd, adopted cries.

For thee the East breath'd out a prosperous Breeze,

Bright were the Suns, and gently swell'd the Seas.

Thy Presence did each doubtful Heart compose,

And Factions wonder'd that they once were Foes;

That joyful Day they lost each Hostile Name,

The same their Aspect, and their Voice the same.

So two fair Twins, whose Features were design'd

At one soft Moment in the Mother's Mind,

Show each the other with reflected Grace,

And the same Beauties bloom in either Face;

The puzzled Strangers which is which enquire,

Delusion grateful to the smiling Sir e.

From that fair Hill, where hoary Sages boast

To name the Stars, and count the heavenly Host,

By the next Dawn doth great rise,

Proud Town! the noblest Scene beneath the Skies.

O'er her thousand Spires their Lustre shed,

And a vast Navy hides his ample Bed,

A floating Forest. From the distant Strand

A Line of Golden Carrs strikes o'er the Land

Peers in Pomp and rich Array,

Before their King, triumphant, lead the Way.

Far as the Eye can reach, the gawdy Train,

A bright Procession, shines along the Plain.

So haply through the Heav'n's wide pathless Ways

A Comet draws a long-extended Blaze;

From East to West burns through2 th' ethereal Frame,

And half Heav'n's Convex glitters with the Flame.

Now to the Regal Towers securely brought,

He plans Glories in his Thought;

Resumes the delegated Pow'r he gave,

Rewards the Faithful and restores the Brave.

Whom shall the Muse from out the shining Throng

Select to heighten and adorn her Song?

Thee, To thy capacious Mind,

O Man approved, is Wealth consigned.

Her Coin (while fought) debas'd and rude,

By Thee in Beauty and in Truth renew'd,

An Arduous Work! again thy Charge we see,

And thy own Care once more returns to Thee.

O! form'd in every Scene to awe and please,

Mix Wit with Pomp, and Dignity with Ease:

Tho' call'd to shine aloft, thou wilt not scorn

To smile on Arts thy self did once adorn:

For this thy Name succeeding Time shall praise,

And envy less thy Garter, than thy Bays.

The Muse, if fir'd with thy enlivening Beams,

Perhaps shall aim at more exalted Themes,

Record our Monarch in a nobler Strain,

And sing the opening Wonders of his Reign;

Bright Carolina s heavenly Beauties trace,

Her valiant Consort and his blooming Race.

A Train of Kings their fruitful Love supplies,

A glorious Scene to s ravish'd Eyes;

Who sees by Brunswick s Hand her Sceptre sway'd,

And through his Line from Age to Age convey'd.

Footnote 1: artless Muse the

return

Footnote 2: he burns

return

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 621

Wednesday, November 17, 1714

—postquam se lumine puro

Implevit, stellasque vagas miratur et Astra

Fixa Polis, vidit quanta sub nocte jaceret

Nostra dies, risitque sui ludibria—

Lucan.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'The common Topicks against the Pride of Man which are laboured by florid and declamatory Writers, are taken from the Baseness of his Original, the Imperfections of his Nature, or the short Duration of those Goods in which he makes his Boast. Though it be true that we can have nothing in us that ought to raise our Vanity, yet a Consciousness of our own Merit may be sometimes laudable. The Folly therefore lyes here: We are apt to pride our selves in worthless, or perhaps shameful Things; and, on the other hand, count that disgraceful which is our truest Glory.

'Hence it is, that the Lovers of Praise take wrong Measures to attain it. Would a vain Man consult his own Heart, he would find that if others knew his Weaknesses as well as he himself doth, he could not have the Impudence to expect the publick Esteem. Pride therefore flows from want of Reflection, and Ignorance of our selves. Knowledge and Humility come upon us together.

'The proper way to make an Estimate of our selves, is to consider seriously what it is we value or despise in others. A Man who boasts of the Goods of Fortune, a gay Dress or a new Title, is generally the Mark of Ridicule. We ought therefore not to admire in our selves, what we are so ready to laugh at in other Men.

'Much less can we with Reason pride our selves in those things, which at some time of our Life we shall certainly despise. And yet, if we will give our selves the Trouble of looking backward and forward on the several Changes, which we have already undergone and hereafter must try, we shall find that the greater Degrees of our Knowledge and Wisdom, serve only to shew us our own Imperfections.

'As we rise from Childhood to Youth, we look with Contempt on the Toys and Trifles which our Hearts have hitherto been set upon. When, we advance to Manhood, we are held wise in proportion to our Shame and Regret for the Rashness and Extravagance of Youth. Old Age fills us with mortifying Reflections upon a Life, mis-spent in the Pursuit of anxious Wealth or uncertain Honour. Agreeable to this Gradation of Thought in this Life, it may be reasonably supposed, that in a future State, the Wisdom, the Experience, and the Maxims of old Age, will be looked upon by a separate Spirit in much the same Light, as an ancient Man now sees the little Follies and Toyings of Infants. The Pomps, the Honours, the Policies, and Arts of mortal Men, will be thought as trifling as Hobby-Horses, Mock Battles, or any other Sports that now employ all the Cunning, and Strength, and Ambition of rational Beings from four Years old to nine or ten.

'If the Notion of a gradual Rise in Beings, from the meanest to the most High, be not a vain Imagination, it is not improbable that an Angel looks down upon a Man, as a Man doth upon a Creature which approaches the nearest to the rational Nature. By the same Rule (if I may indulge my Fancy in this Particular) a superior Brute looks with a kind of Pride on one of an inferior Species. If they could reflect, we might imagine from the Gestures of some of them, that they think themselves the Sovereigns of the World, and that all things were made for them. Such a Thought would not be more absurd in Brute Creatures, than one which Men are apt to entertain, namely, That all the Stars in the Firmament were created only to please their Eyes and amuse their Imaginations. Mr. Dryden, in his Fable of the Cock and the Fox, makes a Speech for his Hero the Cock, which is a pretty Instance for this Purpose,

Then turning, said to Partlet, See, my Dear,

How lavish Nature hath adorn'd the Year;

How the pale Primrose and the Violet spring,

And Birds essay their Throats, disus'd to sing:

All these are ours, and I with Pleasure see

Man strutting on two Legs, and aping me.

'What I would observe from the Whole is this, That we ought to value our selves upon those Things only which superior Beings think valuable, since that is the only way for us not to sink in our own Esteem hereafter.

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 622

Friday, November 19, 1714

—Fallentis Semita Vitæ.

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'In a former Speculation you have observed, that true Greatness doth not consist in that Pomp and Noise wherein the Generality of Mankind are apt to place it. You have there taken Notice, that Virtue in Obscurity often appears more illustrious in the Eye of superior Beings, than all that passes for Grandeur and Magnificence among Men.

When we look back upon the History of those who have born the Parts of Kings, Statesmen, or Commanders, they appear to us stripped of those out-side Ornaments that dazzled their Contemporaries; and we regard their Persons as great or little, in Proportion to the Eminence of their Virtues or Vices. The wise Sayings, generous Sentiments, or disinterested Conduct of a Philosopher under mean Circumstances of Life, set him higher in our Esteem than the mighty Potentates of the Earth, when we view them both through the long Prospect of many Ages. Were the Memoirs of an obscure Man, who lived up to the Dignity of his Nature, and according to the Rules of Virtue, to be laid before us, we should find nothing in such a Character which might not set him on a Level with Men of the highest Stations. The following Extract out of the private Papers of an honest Country-Gentleman will set this Matter in a clear Light. Your Reader will perhaps conceive a greater Idea of him from these Actions done in Secret, and without a Witness, than of those which have drawn upon them the Admiration of Multitudes.

Memoirs.

"In my 22d Year I found a violent Affection for my Cousin Charles's Wife growing upon me, wherein I was in danger of succeeding, if I had not upon that Account begun my Travels into foreign Countries.

"A little after my Return into England, at a private Meeting with my Uncle Francis, I refused the Offer of his Estate, and prevailed upon him not to disinherit his Son Ned.

"Mem. Never to tell this to Ned, lest he should think hardly of his deceased Father; though he continues to speak ill of me for this very Reason.

"Prevented a scandalous Law-suit betwixt my Nephew Harry and his Mother, by allowing her under-hand, out of my own Pocket, so much Money yearly as the Dispute was about.

"Procured a Benefice for a young Divine, who is Sister's Son to the good Man who was my Tutor, and hath been dead Twenty Years.

"Gave Ten Pounds to poor Mrs.—, my Friend H—'s Widow.

"Mem. To retrench one Dish at my Table, till I have fetched it up again.

"Mem. To repair my House and finish my Gardens in order to employ poor People after Harvest time.

"Ordered John to let out Goodman D—'s Sheep that were pounded, by Night: but not to let his Fellow-Servants know it.

"Prevailed upon M. T. Esq., not to take the Law of the Farmer's Son for shooting a Partridge, and to give him his Gun again.

"Paid the Apothecary for curing an old Woman that confessed her self a Witch.

"Gave away my favourite Dog for biting a Beggar.

"Made the Minister of the Parish and a Whig Justice of one Mind, by putting them upon explaining their Notions to one another.

"Mem, To turn off Peter for shooting a Doe while she was eating Acorns out of his Hand.

"When my Neighbour John, who hath often injured me, comes to make his Request to Morrow:

"Mem. I have forgiven him.

"Laid up my Chariot and sold my Horses, to relieve the Poor in a Scarcity of Corn.

"In the same Year remitted to my Tenants a Fifth Part of their Rents.

"As I was airing to-day, I fell into a Thought that warmed my Heart, and shall, I hope, be the better for it as long as I live.

"Mem. To charge my Son in private to erect no Monument for me; but not to put this in my last Will.

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 623

Monday, November 22, 1714

Аддисон

Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dehiscat,

Vel pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras,

Pallentes umbras Erebi noctemque profundam,

Ante, pudor, quam te violem aut tua jura resolvam.

Ille meos, primos qui me sibi junxit, amores

Abstulit: ille habeat secum, servetque sepulchro.

Virg.

am Love-Casuist 2

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'You may remember, that I lately transmitted to you an Account of an ancient Custom, in the Manors of East and West-Enborne, in the County of Berks, and elsewhere. If a Customary Tenant die, the Widow shall have what the Law calls her Free-Bench in all his Copyhold Lands, dum sola et casta fuerit, that is, while she lives single and chaste; but if she commits Incontinency, she forfeits her Estate; Yet if she will come into the Court riding backward upon a Black Ram, with his Tail in her Hand, and say the Words following, the Steward is bound by the Custom to re-admit her to her Free-Bench.

Here I am,

Riding upon a Black Ram,

Like a Whore as I am;

And, for my Crincum Crancum,

Have lost my Bincum Bancum;

And, for my Tail's Game,

Have done this worldly Shame;

Therefore, I pray you Mr. Steward, let me have my Land again.

'After having informed you that my Lord Coke observes, that this is the most frail and slippery Tenure of any in England, I shall tell you, since the Writing of that Letter, I have, according to my Promise, been at great Pains in searching out the Records of the Black Ram; and have at last met with the Proceedings of the Court-Baron, held in that Behalf, for the Space of a whole Day. The Record saith, that a strict Inquisition having been made into the Right of the Tenants to their several Estates, by a crafty old Steward, he found that many of the Lands of the Manor were, by default of the several Widows, forfeited to the Lord, and accordingly would have enter'd on the Premises: Upon which the good Women demanded the Benefit of the Ram. The Steward, after having perused their several Pleas, adjourn'd the Court to Barnaby-bright3, that they might have Day enough before them.

'The Court being set, and filled with a great Concourse of People, who came from all Parts to see the Solemnity, the first who entered was the Widow Frontly, who had made her Appearance in the last Year's Cavalcade. The Register observes, that finding it an easy Pad-Ram, and foreseeing she might have further Occasion for it, she purchased it of the Steward.

'Mrs. Sarah Dainty, Relict of Mr. John Dainty, (who was the greatest Prude in the Parish) came next in the Procession. She at first made some Difficulty of taking the Tail in her Hand; and was observed in pronouncing the Form of Penance, to soften the two most emphatical Words into Clincum Clancum: But the Steward took care to make her speak plain English before he would let her have her Land again.

'The third Widow that was brought to this worldly Shame, being mounted upon a vicious Ram, had the Misfortune to be thrown by him; upon which she hoped to be excused from going thro' the rest of the Ceremony: But the Steward being well versed in the Law, observed very wisely upon this Occasion, that the breaking of the Rope does not hinder the Execution of the Criminal.

'The fourth Lady upon Record was the Widow Ogle, a famous Coquette, who had kept half a Score young Fellows off and on for the Space of two Years; but having been more kind to her Carter John, she was introduced with the Huzza's of all her Lovers about her.

'Mrs. Sable appearing in her Weeds, which were very new and fresh, and of the same Colour with her whimsical Palfrey, made a very decent Figure in the Solemnity.

'Another, who had been summoned to make her Appearance, was excused by the Steward, as well knowing in his Heart, that the good Squire himself had qualified her for the Ram.

'Mrs. Quick having nothing to object against the Indictment, pleaded her Belly. But it was remembred that she made the same Excuse the Year before. Upon which the Steward observ'd, that she might so contrive it, as never to do the Service of the Manor.

'The Widow Fidget being cited into Court, insisted that she had done no more since the Death of her Husband, than what she used to do in his Life-time; and withal deSir 'd Mr. Steward to consider his own Wife's Case, if he should chance to die before her.

'The next in order was a Dowager of a very corpulent Make, who would have been excused as not finding any Ram that was able to carry her; upon which the Steward commuted her Punishment, and ordered her to make her Entry upon a black Ox.

'The Widow Maskwell, a Woman who had long lived with a most unblemished Character, having turned off her old Chamber-maid in a Pet, was by that revengeful Creature brought in upon the black Ram Nine times the same Day.

'Several Widows of the Neighbourhood, being brought upon their Tryal, they shewed that they did not hold of the Manor, and were discharged accordingly.

'A pretty young Creature who closed the Procession, came ambling in, with so bewitching an Air, that the Steward was observ'd to cast a Sheep's Eye upon her, and married her within a Month after the Death of his Wife.

'N. B. Mrs. Touchwood appeared, according to Summons, but had nothing laid to her Charge; having liv'd irreproachably since the Decease of her Husband, who left her a Widow in the Sixty-ninth Year of her Age.'

I am, Sir , &c.

Footnote 1: note No. 608

return to footnote mark

Footnote 2: 591 602 605 614 625

return

Footnote 3:

return

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 624

Wednesday, November 24, 1714

Audire, atque togam jubeo componere, quisquis

Ambitione mala, aut argenti pallet amore

Quisquis luxuria—

Hor.

Dr. Tillotson, Fools at large Plato Labour is preferable to Idleness, as Brightness to Rust.

First Christian Paul's In journeying often; in Perils of Water, in Perils of Robbers, in Perils among false Brethren. In Weariness and Painfulness, in Watchings often, in Hunger and Thirst, in Fastings often, lay up to himself Treasures in Heaven provide such Possessions, as fear neither Arms, nor Men, nor himself.

Woolsey's 'Had I served God, with the same Application, wherewith I served my King, he would not have forsaken me in my old Age.'

serving his King

Thirdly

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 625

Friday, November 26, 1714

—amores

A tenero meditatur Ungui—

Hor.

Love Casuist

Sir ,

'I was Thirteen the Ninth of November last, and must now begin to think of settling my self in the World, and so I would humbly beg your Advice, what I must do with Mr. Fondle, who makes his Addresses to me. He is a very pretty Man, and hath the blackest Eyes and whitest Teeth you ever saw. Though he is but a younger Brother, he dresses like a Man of Quality, and no Body comes into a Room like him. I know he hath refused great Offers, and if he cannot Marry me, he will never have any Body else. But my Father hath forbid him the House, because he sent me a Copy of Verses; for he is one of the greatest Wits in Town. My eldest Sister, who, with her good Will, would call me Miss as long as I live, must be married before me, they say. She tells them, that Mr. Fondle makes a Fool of me, and will spoil the Child, as she calls me, like a confident thing as she is. In short, I am resolved to marry Mr. Fondle, if it be but to spite her. But because I would do nothing that is imprudent, I beg of you to give me your Answers to some Questions I will write down, and deSir e you to get them printed in the SPECTATOR, and I do not doubt but you will give such Advice, as, I am sure, I shall follow.

'When Mr. Fondle looks upon me for half an Hour together, and calls me Angel, is he not in Love?

Answer, No.

'May not I be certain he will be a kind Husband, that has promised me half my Portion in Pin-money, and to keep me a Coach and Six in the Bargain.

No.

'Whether I, who have been acquainted with him this whole Year almost, am not a better Judge of his Merit, than my Father and Mother, who never heard him talk, but at Table?

No.

'Whether I am not old enough to chuse for my self?

No.

'Whether it would not have been rude in me to refuse a Lock of his Hair?

No.

'Shou'd not I be a very barbarous Creature, if I did not pity a Man that is always Sighing for my Sake?

No.

'Whether you would not advise me to run away with the poor Man?

No.

'Whether you do not think, that if I won't have him, he won't drown himself?

No.

What shall I say to him the next time he asks me if I will marry him?

No.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

I wonder that in the present Situation of Affairs, you can take Pleasure in writing any thing but News; for, in a Word, who minds any thing else? The Pleasure of increasing in Knowledge, and learning something new every Hour of Life, is the noblest Entertainment of a Rational Creature. I have a very good Ear for a Secret, and am naturally of a communicative Temper; by which Means I am capable of doing you great Services in this way. In order to make my self useful, I am early in the Antichamber, where I thrust my Head into the thick of the Press, and catch the News, at the opening of the Door, while it is warm. Sometimes I stand by the Beef-Eaters, and take the Buz as it passes by me. At other times I lay my Ear close to the Wall, and suck in many a valuable Whisper, as it runs in a streight Line from Corner to Corner. When I am weary with standing, I repair to one of the neighbouring Coffee-houses, where I sit sometimes for a whole Day, and have the News as it comes from Court fresh and fresh. In short, Sir , I spare no Pains to know how the World goes. A Piece of News loses its Flavour when it hath been an Hour in the Air. I love, if I may so speak, to have it fresh from the Tree; and to convey it to my Friends before it is faded. Accordingly my Expences in Coach-hire make no small Article; which you may believe, when I assure you, that I post away from Coffee-house to Coffee-house, and forestall the Evening-Post by two Hours. There is a certain Gentleman who hath given me the slip twice or thrice, and hath been beforehand with me at Child's. But I have play'd him a Trick. I have purchas'd a pair of the best Coach-horses I could buy for Money, and now let him out-strip me if he can. Once more, Mr. SPECTATOR, let me advise you to deal in News. You may depend upon my Assistance. But I must break off abruptly, for I have twenty Letters to write.

Yours in haste,

Tho. Quid-nunc.

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 626

Monday, November 29, 1714

Генри Гроув

—Dulcique animos novitate tenebo—

Ov. Met. 1. I.

have 1

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'When I have seen young Puss playing her wanton Gambols, and with a thousand antick Shapes express her own Gayety at the same time that she moved mine, while the old Grannum hath sat by with a most exemplary Gravity, unmov'd at all that past; it hath made me reflect what should be the occasion of Humours so opposite in two Creatures, between whom there was no visible Difference but that of Age; and I have been able to resolve it into nothing else but the Force of Novelty.

'In every Species of Creatures, those who have been least Time in the World, appear best pleased with their Condition: For, besides that to a new Comer the World hath a Freshness on it that strikes the Sense after a most agreeable Manner, Being it self, unattended with any great Variety of Enjoyments, excites a Sensation of Pleasure. But as Age advances, every thing seems to wither, the Senses are disgusted with their old Entertainments, and Existence turns flat and insipid. We may see this exemplified in Mankind: The Child, let him be free from Pain, and gratified in his Change of Toys, is diverted with the smallest Trifle. Nothing disturbs the Mirth of the Boy, but a little Punishment or Confinement. The Youth must have more violent Pleasures to employ his Time; the Man loves the Hurry of an active Life, devoted to the Pursuits of Wealth or Ambition; and Lastly, old Age, having lost its Capacity for these Avocations, becomes its own insupportable Burthen. This Variety may in part be accounted for by the Vivacity and Decay of the Faculties; but I believe is chiefly owing to this, That the longer we have been in Possession of Being, the less sensible is the Gust we have of it; and the more it requires of adventitious Amusements to relieve us from the Satiety and Weariness it brings along with it.

'And as Novelty is of a very powerful, so of a most extensive influence. Moralists have long since observed it to be the Source of Admiration, which lessens in proportion to our Familiarity with Objects, and upon a thorough Acquaintance is utterly extinguished. But I think it hath not been so commonly remarked, that all the other Passions depend considerably on the same Circumstance. What is it but Novelty that awakens DeSir e, enhances Delight, kindles Anger, provokes Envy, inspires Horror? To this Cause we must ascribe it, that Love languishes with Fruition, and Friendship it self is recommended by Intervals of Absence: Hence Monsters, by use, are beheld without loathing, and the most enchanting Beauty without Rapture. That Emotion of the Spirits in which Passion consists, is usually the Effect of Surprize, and as long as it continues, heightens the agreeable or disagreeable Qualities of its Object; but as this Emotion ceases (and it ceases with the Novelty) things appear in another Light, and affects us even less than might be expected from their proper Energy, for having moved us too much before.

'It may not be an useless Enquiry how far the Love of Novelty is the unavoidable Growth of Nature, and in what Respects it is peculiarly adapted to the present State. To me it seems impossible, that a reasonable Creature should rest absolutely satisfied in any Acquisitions whatever, without endeavouring farther; for after its highest Improvements, the Mind hath an Idea of an Infinity of things still behind worth knowing, to the Knowledge of which therefore it cannot be indifferent; as by climbing up a Hill in the midst of a wide Plain, a Man hath his Prospect enlarged, and, together with that, the Bounds of his DeSir es. Upon this Account, I cannot think he detracts from the State of the Blessed, who conceives them to be perpetually employed in fresh Searches into Nature, and to Eternity advancing into the fathomless Depths of the Divine Perfections. In this Thought there is nothing but what doth Honour to these glorified Spirits; provided still it be remembred, that their DeSir e of more proceeds not from their disrelishing what they possess; and the Pleasure of a new Enjoyment is not with them measured by its Novelty (which is a thing merely foreign and accidental) but by its real intrinsick Value. After an Acquaintance of many thousand Years with the Works of God, the Beauty and Magnificence of the Creation fills them with the same pleasing Wonder and profound Awe, which Adam felt himself seized with as he first opened his Eyes upon this glorious Scene. Truth captivates with unborrowed Charms, and whatever hath once given Satisfaction will always do it: In all which they have manifestly the Advantage of us, who are so much govern'd by sickly and changeable Appetites, that we can with the greatest Coldness behold the stupendous Displays of Omnipotence, and be in Transports at the puny Essays of humane Skill; throw aside Speculations of the sublimest Nature and vastest Importance into some obscure Corner of the Mind, to make Room for new Notions of no Consequence at all; are even tired of Health, because not enlivened with alternate Pain, and prefer the first Reading of an indifferent Author, to the second or third Perusal of one whose Merit and Reputation are established.

Our being thus formed serves many useful Purposes in the present State. It contributes not a little to the Advancement of Learning; for, as Cicero takes Notice, That which makes Men willing to undergo the Fatigues of Philosophical Disquisitions, is not so much the Greatness of Objects as their Novelty. It is not enough that there is Field and Game for the Chace, and that the Understanding is prompted with a restless Thirst of Knowledge, effectually to rouse the Soul, sunk into the State of Sloth and Indolence; it is also necessary that there be an uncommon Pleasure annexed to the first Appearance of Truth in the Mind. This Pleasure being exquisite for the Time it lasts, but transient, it hereby comes to pass that the Mind grows into an Indifference to its former Notions, and passes on after new Discoveries, in hope of repeating the Delight. It is with Knowledge as with Wealth, the Pleasure of which lies more in making endless Additions, than in taking a Review of our old Store. There are some Inconveniencies that follow this Temper, if not guarded against, particularly this, that through a too great Eagerness of something new we are many times impatient of staying long enough upon a Question that requires some time to resolve it, or, which is worse, perswade our selves that we are Masters of the Subject before we are so, only to be at the Liberty of going upon a fresh Scent; in Mr. Lock's Words, We see a little, presume a great deal, and so jump to the Conclusion.

'A farther Advantage of our Inclination for Novelty, as at present circumstantiated, is, that it annihilates all the boasted Distinctions among Mankind. Look not up with Envy to those above thee. Sounding Titles, stately Buildings, fine Gardens, gilded Chariots, rich Equipages, what are they? They dazzle every one but the Possessor: To him that is accustomed to them they are cheap and regardless Things: They supply him not with brighter Images, or more sublime Satisfactions than the plain Man may have, whose small Estate will just enable him to support the Charge of a simple unencumbered Life. He enters heedless into his Rooms of State, as you or I do under our poor Sheds. The noble Paintings and costly Furniture are lost on him; he sees them not: As how can it be otherwise, when by Custom, a Fabrick infinitely more grand and finish'd, that of the Universe, stands unobserved by the Inhabitants, and the everlasting Lamps of Heaven are lighted up in vain, for any Notice that Mortals take of them? Thanks to indulgent Nature, which not only placed her Children originally upon a Level, but still, by the Strength of this Principle, in a great Measure preserves it, in spite of all the Care of a Man, to introduce artificial Distinctions.

'To add no more, Is not this Fondness for Novelty, which makes us out of Conceit with all we already have, a convincing Proof of a future State? Either Man was made in vain, or this is not the only World he was made for: For there cannot be a greater Instance of Vanity, than that to which Man is liable, to be deluded from the Cradle to the Grave with fleeting Shadows of Happiness. His Pleasures, and those not considerable neither, die in the Possession, and fresh Enjoyments do not rise fast enough to fill up half his Life with Satisfaction. When I see Persons sick of themselves any longer than they are called away by something that is of Force to chain down the present Thought; when I see them hurry from Country to Town, and then from the Town back again into the Country, continually shifting Postures, and placing Life in all the different Lights they can think of; Surely, say I to my self, Life is vain, and the Man beyond Expression stupid or prejudic'd, who from the Vanity of Life cannot gather, He is designed for Immortality.

Footnote 1: Meditations, &c.

return to footnote mark

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 627

Wednesday, December 1, 1714

Tantum inter densas umbrosa cacumine fagos

Assidue veniebat; ibi hæc incondita solus

Montibus et Sylvis studio jactabat inani.

Virg.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'A Friend of mine died of a Feaver last Week, which he caught by walking too late in a dewy Evening amongst his Reapers. I must inform you that his greatest Pleasure was in Husbandry and Gardening. He had some Humours which seemed inconsistent with that good Sense he was otherwise Master of. His Uneasiness in the Company of Women was very remarkable in a Man of such perfect Good-breeding, and his avoiding one particular Walk in his Garden, where he had used to pass the greatest Part of his Time, raised abundance of idle Conjectures in the Village where he lived. Upon looking over his Papers we found out the Reason, which he never intimated to his nearest Friends. He was, it seems, a passionate Lover in his Youth, of which a large Parcel of Letters he left behind him are a Witness. I send you a Copy of the last he ever wrote upon that Subject, by which you will find that he concealed the true Name of his Mistress under that of Zelinda. A long Month's Absence would be insupportable to me, if the Business I am employed in were not for the Service of my Zelinda, and of such a Nature as to place her every Moment in my Mind. I have furnished the House exactly according to your Fancy, or, if you please, my own; for I have long since learned to like nothing but what you do. The Apartment designed for your Use is so exact a Copy of that which you live in, that I often think my self in your House when I step into it, but sigh when I find it without its proper Inhabitant. You will have the most delicious Prospect from your Closet-window that England affords: I am sure I should think it so, if the Landskip that shows such Variety did not at the same time suggest to me the Greatness of the Space that lies between us.

The Gardens are laid out very beautifully; I have dressed up every Hedge in Woodbines, sprinkled Bowers and Arbours in every Corner, and made a little Paradise round me; yet I am still like the first Man in his Solitude, but half blest without a Partner in my Happiness. I have directed one Walk to be made for two Persons, where I promise ten thousand Satisfactions to my self in your Conversation. I already take my Evening's Turn in it, and have worn a Path upon the Edge of this little Alley, while I soothed my self with the Thought of your walking by my Side. I have held many imaginary Discourses with you in this Retirement; and when I have been weary have sat down with you in the midst of a Row of Jessamines. The many Expressions of Joy and Rapture I use in these silent Conversations have made me for some Time the Talk of the Parish; but a neighbouring young Fellow, who makes Love to the Farmer's Daughter, hath found me out, and made my Case known to the whole Neighbourhood.

In planting of the Fruit-Trees I have not forgot the Peach you are so fond of. I have made a Walk of Elms along the River Side, and intend to sow all the Place about it with Cowslips, which I hope you will like as well as that I have heard you talk of by your Father's House in the Country.

Oh! Zelinda, What a Scheme of Delight have I drawn up in my Imagination! What Day-Dreams do I indulge my self in! When will the Six Weeks be at an End, that lye between me and my promised Happiness?

How could you break off so abruptly in your last, and tell me you must go and dress for the Play? If you loved as I do, you would find no more Company in a Crowd, than I have in my Solitude.

I am, &c.

'On the Back of this Letter is written, in the Hand of the Deceased, the following Piece of History.

Mem. Having waited a whole Week for an Answer to this Letter, I hurried to Town, where I found the Perfidious Creature married to my Rival. I will bear it as becomes a Man, and endeavour to find out Happiness for my self in that Retirement, which I had prepared in vain for a false ungrateful Woman.

I am, &c.

Содержание, стр. 8

№ 628

Friday, December 3, 1714

Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis avum.

Hor.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

'There are none of your Speculations which please me more than those upon Infinitude and Eternity1. You have already considered that Part of Eternity which is past, and I wish you would give us your Thoughts upon that which is to come.

'Your Readers will perhaps receive greater Pleasure from this View of Eternity than the former, since we have every one of us a Concern in that which is to come: Whereas a Speculation on that which is past is rather curious than useful.

'Besides, we can easily conceive it possible for successive Duration never to have an End; tho', as you have justly observed, that Eternity which never had a Beginning is altogether incomprehensible; That is, we can conceive an Eternal Duration which may be, though we cannot an Eternal Duration which hath been; or, if I may use the Philosophical Terms, we may apprehend a Potential though not an Actual Eternity.

'This Notion of a future Eternity, which is natural to the Mind of Man, is an unanswerable Argument that he is a Being designed for it; especially if we consider that he is capable of being Virtuous or Vicious here; that he hath Faculties improvable to all Eternity, and by a proper or wrong Employment of them, may be happy or miserable throughout that infinite Duration. Our Idea indeed of this Eternity is not of an adequate or fixed Nature, but is perpetually growing and enlarging itself toward the Object, which is too big for human Comprehension. As we are now in the Beginnings of Existence, so shall we always appear to our selves as if we were for ever entring upon it. After a Million or two of Centuries, some considerable Things, already past, may slip out of our Memory; which, if it be not strengthened in a wonderful Manner, may possibly forget that ever there was a Sun or Planets. And yet, notwithstanding the long Race that we shall then have run, we shall still imagine ourselves just starting from the Goal, and find no Proportion between that Space which we know had a Beginning, and what we are sure will never have an End.

'But I shall leave this Subject to your Management, and question not but you will throw it into such Lights as shall at once improve and entertain your Reader.

'I have enclos'd sent you a Translation2 of the Speech of Cato on this Occasion, which hath accidentally fallen into my Hands, and which for Conciseness, Purity, and Elegance of Phrase, cannot be sufficiently admired.

Act V. Scen. I.

Cato solus &c.

Sic, sic se habere rem necesse prorsus est,

Ratione vincis, do lubens manus, Plato.

Quid enim dedisset, Quæ dedit frustra nihil,

Æternitatis insitam cupidinem

Natura? Quorsum hæc dulcis Expectatio;

Vitæque non explenda melioris sitis?

Quid vult sibi aliud iste redeundi in nihil

Horror, sub imis quemque agens precordiis?

Cur territa in se refugit anima, cur tremit

Attonita, quoties, morte ne pereat, timet?

Particula nempe est cuique nascenti indita

Divinior; quæ corpus incolens agit;

Hominique succinit, Tua est Æternitas,

Æternitas! O lubricum nimis aspici,

Mixtumque dulci Gaudium formidine?

Quæ demigrabitur alia hinc in corpora?

Quæ Terra mox incognita? Quis orbis novus

Manet incolendus? Quanta erit mutatio?

Hæc intuenti spatia mihi quaquà patent

Immensa: Sed caliginosa nox premit;

Nec luce clarâ vult videri singula.

Figendus hic pes; certa sunt hæc hactenus:

Si quod gubernet Numen Humanum genus,

(At, quod gubernet, esse clamant omnia)

Virtute non gaudere certè non potest:

Nec esse non Beata, quâ gaudet, potest.

Sed quâ Beata sede? Quove in tempore?

Hæc quanta quanta terra, tola est Cæsaris.

Quid dubius hæret animus usque adeo? Brevi

Hic nodum hic omnem expediet. Arma en induor

Ensi manum admovens,

In utramque partem facta; quæque vim inferant,

Et quæ propulsent! Dextera intentat necem;

Vitam sinistra: Vulnus hæc dabit manus;

Altera medelam vulneris: Hic ad exitum

Deducet, ictu simplici; hæc vetant mori.

Secura ridet anima mucronis minas,

Ensesque strictos, interire nescia.

Extinguet ætas sidera diuturnior:

Ætate languens ipse Sol, obscurius

Emittet Orbi consenescenti jubar:

Natura et ipsa sentiet quondam vices

Ætatis, annis ipsa deficiet gravis:

At tibi juventus, at tibi immortalitas,

Tibi parta Divûm est vita. Periment mutuis

Elementa sese, et interibunt ictibus:

Tu permanebis sola semper integra,

Tu cuncta rerum quassa, cuncta naufraga,

Jam portu in ipso tuta, contemplabere.

Compage rupta, corruent in se invicem,

Orbesque fractis ingerentur orbibus;

Illæsa tu sedebis extra Fragmina.

Act V. Scen. I

Cato alone &c.

It must be so—Plato, thou reason'st well—

Else whence this pleasing Hope, this fond DeSir e,

This Longing after Immortality?

Or whence this secret Dread, and inward Horror,

Of falling into Nought? Why shrinks the Soul

Back on her self, and startles at Destruction?

'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven it self, that points out an Hereafter,