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ture as sir Godfrey Kneller could draw her in. I I cannot end my letter without observing, that from what I have already seen of the world, I cannot but set a particular mark of distinction upon those who abound most in the virtues of their nation, and least with its imperfections. When, therefore, I see the good sense of an Englishman in its highest perfection without any mixture of the spleen, I hope you will excuse me, if I admire the character, and am ambitious of subscribing myself, sir, yours, &c.'

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I AM always beating about in my thoughts for something that may turn to the benefit of my dear countrymen. The present season of the year having put most of them in slight sum. mer-suits, has turned my speculations to a subject that concerns every one who is sensible of cold or heat, which I believe takes in the great est part of my readers.

There is nothing in nature more inconstant than the British climate, if we except the humour of its inhabitants. We have frequently in one day all the seasons of the year. I have shivered in the dog-days, and been forced to throw off my coat in January. I have gone to bed in August, and rose in December. Summer has often caught me in my drap de Berry, and winter in my Doily suit.

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naked, without complaining of the bleakness of the air in which they are born, as the armies of the northern nations keep the field all winter. The softest of our British ladies expose their arms and necks to the open air, which the men could not do without catching cold, for want of being accustomed to it. The whole body by the same means might contract the same firmness and temper. The Scythian that was asked how it was possible for the inhabitants of his frozen climate to go naked, replied, 'Because we are all over face.' Mr. Locke advises parents to have their children's feet washed every morning in cold water, which might probably prolong multitudes of lives.

I verily believe a cold bath would be one of the most healthful exercises in the world, were it made use of in the education of youth. It would make their bodies more than proof to the injuries of the air and weather. It would be something like what the poets tell us of Achilles, whom his mother is said to have dipped, when he was a child, in the river Styx. The story adds, that this made him invulnerable all over, excepting that part which his mother held in her hand during this immersion, and which by that means lost the benefit of these hardening waters. Our common practice runs in a quite contrary method. We are perpetually softening ourselves by good fires and warm clothes. The air within our rooms has generally two or three degrees more of heat in it than the air without doors.

Crassus is an old lethargic valetudinarian. For these twenty years last past he has been clothed in frize of the same colour, and of the same piece. He fancies he should catch his death in any other kind of manufacture; and though his avarice would incline him to wear it until it was threadbare, he dares not do it lest he should take cold when the knap is off. He could no more live without his frize coat, than without his skin. It is not indeed so properly his coat as what the anatomists call one of the integuments of the body.

I remember a very whimsical fellow (commonly known by the name of Posture-master) in king Charles the Second's reign, who was the plague of all the tailors about town. He would often send for one of them to take measure of him, but would so contrive it as to have a most immoderate rising in one of his shoulders. When the clothes were brought home and tried upon him, the deformity was removed into the other shoulder. Upon which the tailor begged pardon for the mistake, and mended it as fast as he could, but upon a third trial found him a straight-shouldered man as one would desire to see, but a little unfortunate in a hump back. In short, this wandering tumour puzzled all the workmen about town, who found it impossible to accommodate so changeable a customer. My reader will apply this to any one who would adapt a suit to a season of our Eng-piece of true tempered Steel, and can say with lish climate.

After this short descant on the uncertainty of our English weather, I come to any moral.

A man should take care that his body be not too soft for his climate; but rather, if possible, harden and season himself beyond the degree of cold wherein he lives. Daily experience | teaches us how we may inure ourselves by custom to bear the extremities of weather without injury. The inhabitants of Nova Zembla go

How different an old man is Crassus from myself! It is, indeed, the particular distinction of the Ironsides to be robust and hardy, to defy the cold and rain, and let the weather do its worst. My father lived till a hundred without a cough; and we have a tradition in the family that my grandfather used to throw off his hat, and go open-breasted, after fourscore. As for nyself, they used to sowse me over head and ears in water when I was a boy, so that I am now looked upon as one of the most case-har. dened of the whole family of the Ironsides. In short, I have been so plunged in water and inured to the cold, that I regard myself as a

the above-mentioned Scythian, that I am face, or, if my enemies please, forehead all over.

No. 103.]

Thursday, July 9, 1713.

Dum flammas Jovis, et sonitus imitatur olympi
Virg. Æn. vi. 586,
With mimic thunder impiously he plays,
And darts the artificial lightning's blaze.

I AM Considering how most of the great phenomena or appearances in nature, have been imitated by the art of man. Thunder is grown a common drug among the chymists. Lightning may be bought by the pound. If a man has occasion for a lambent flame, you have whole sheets of it in a handful of phosphor. Showers of rain are to be met with in every water work; and we are informed, that some years ago the virtuosos of France covered a little vault with artificial snow, which they made to fall above an hour together for the entertainment of his present majesty.

I am led into this train of thinking by the noble fire-work that was exhibited last night upon the Thames. You might there see a little sky filled with innumerable blazing stars and meteors. Nothing could be more astonishing than the pillars of flame, clonds of smoke, and multitudes of stars mingled together in such an agreeable confusion. Every rocket ended in a constellation, and strowed the air with such a shower of silver spangles, as opened and enlightened the whole scene from time to time. It put me in mind of the lines in ŒEdipus, "Why from the bleeding womb of monstrous night Burst forth such myriads of abortive stars?" In short, the artist did his part to admiration, and was so encompassed with fire and smoke that one would have thought nothing but a salamander could have been safe in such a

situation.

and employ all the tricks of art to terrify and surprise the spectator.

We were well enough pleased with this start of thought, but fancied there was something in it too serious, and perhaps too horrid, to be put in execution.

Upon this a friend of mine gave us an account of a fire-work described, if I am not mistaken, by Strada. A prince of Italy it seems entertained his mistress with it upon a great lake. In the midst of this lake was a huge floating mountain made by art. The mountain represented Ætna, being bored through the top with a monstrous orifice. Upon a signal given the eruption began. Fire and smoke, mixed with several unusual prodigies and figures, made their appearance for some time. On a sudden there was heard a most dreadful rumbling noise within the entrails of the machine. After which the mountain burst, and discovered a vast cavity in that side which faced the prince and his court. Within this hollow was Vulcan's shop, full of fire and clock-work. A column of blue flame issued out incessantly from the forge. Vulcan was employed in hammering out thunderbolts, that every now and then flew up from the anvil with dreadful cracks and flashes.

Be

Venus stood by him in a figure of the brightest
fire, with numberless cupids on all sides of her,
that shot out volleys of burning arrows.
fore her was an altar with hearts of fire flaming
on it. I have forgot several other particulars
no less curious, and have only mentioned these
to show that there may be a sort of fable or
design in a fire-work which may give an addi-
tional beauty to those surprising objects.

I was in company with two or three fanciful friends during this whole show. One of them being a critic, that is a man who on all occasions is more attentive to what is wanting than what is present, began to exert his talent upon the several objects we had before us. 'I am mightily pleased,' says he, with that burning cypher. There is no matter in the world so proper to write with as wild-fire, as no charac-I ters can be more legible than those which are read by their own light. But as for your cardinal virtues, I do not care for seeing them in such combustible figures. Who can imagine Chastity with a body of fire, or Temperance in a flame? Justice indeed may be furnished out of this element as far as her sword goes, and Courage may be all over one continued blaze, if the artist pleases.'

Our companion observing that we laughed at this unseasonable severity, let drop the critic, and proposed a subject for a fire-work, which he thought would be very amusing, if executed by so able an artist as he who was at that time entertaining us. The plan he mentioned was a scene in Milton. He would have a large piece of machinery represent the Pandemonium, where,

- from the arched roof
Pendant by subtle magic, many a row
Of starry lamps, and blazing cressets, fed
With naphtha and asphaltos, yielded light
As from a sky'

This might be finely represented by several il-
luminations disposed in a great frame of wood,
with ten thousand beautiful exhalations of fire,
which men versed in this art know very well
how to raise. The evil spirits at the same time
might very properly appear in vehicles of flame,

I seldom see any thing that raises wonder in me which does not give my thoughts a turn that makes my heart the better for it. As I was lying in my bed, and ruminating on what had seen, I could not forbear reflecting on the insignificancy of human art, when set in comparison with the designs of Providence. In the pursuit of this thought I considered a comet, or, in the language of the vulgar, a blazing. star, as a sky-rocket discharged by a hand that is Almighty. Many of my readers saw that in the year 1680, and if they are not mathematicians, will be amazed to hear that it travelled in a much greater degree of swiftness than a cannon-ball, and drew after it a tail of fire that was fourscore millions of miles in length. What an amazing thought it is to consider this stupendous body traversing the immensity of the creation with such a rapidity, and at the same time, wheeling about in that line which the Almighty has prescribed for it! that it should move in such inconceivable fury and combustion, and at the same time with such an exact regularity! How spacious must the universe be that gives such bodies as these their full play, with out suffering the least disorder or confusion by it! What a glorious show are those beings entertained with that can look into this great theatre of nature, and see myriads of such tremendous objects wandering through those immeasurable depths of wether, and running their appointed courses! Our eyes may hereafter be strong enough to command this magnificent prospect, and our understandings able to find

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ON Tuesday last I published two letters written by a gentleman in his travels. As they were applauded by my best readers, I shall this day publish two more from the same hand. The first of them contains a matter of fact which is very curious, and may deserve the attention of those who are versed in our British antiquities.

'Blois, May 15, N. S. 'SIR,-Because I am at present out of the road of news, I shall send you a story that was lately given me by a gentleman of this country, who is descended from one of the persons concerned in the relation, and very inquisitive to know if there be any of the family now in Eng

land.

I shall only premise to it, that this story is preserved with great care among the writings of this gentleman's family, and that it has been given to two or three of our English nobility, when they were in these parts, who could not return any satisfactory answer to the gentleman, whether there be any of that family now remain ing in Great Britain.

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not tell you after this, with what joy and surprise the story ends. King Edward, who knew all the particulars of it, as a mark of his esteem, gave to each of them, by the king of France's consent, the following coat of arms, which I will send you in the original language, not being herald enough to blazon it in English.

"Le Roi d'Angleterre par permission du Roi de France, pour perpetuelle memoire de leurs grands faits d'armes et fidelité envers leurs Rois, leur donna par ampliation à leurs armes en une croix d'argen cantonée de quatre coquilles d'or en champ de sable, qu'ils avoient auparavant, une endenteleuse faite en façons de croix de gueulle inserée au dedans de la ditte croix d'argent et par le milieu d'icelle que est participation des deux croix que portent les dits Rois en la guerre."

I am afraid by this time you begin to wonder that I should send you for news a tale of three or four hundred years old; and I dare say never thought, when you desired me to write to you, that I should trouble you with a story of king John, especially at a time when there is a monarch on the French throne that furnishes discourse for all Europe. But I confess I am the more fond of the relation, because it brings to mind the noble exploits of our own country. men: though at the same time I must own it is not so much the vanity of an Englishman which puts me upon writing it, as that I have of taking an occasion to subscribe myself, sir, yours, &c.'

'Blois, May 20, N. S.

'SIR,-I am extremely obliged to you for your last kind letter, which was the only English that had been spoken to me in some months together, for I am at present forced to think the absence of my countrymen my good fortune: Votum in amante novum! vellum quod amatur abesset. Orid. Met. Lib. iii. 468. Strange wish to harbour in a lover's breast! I wish that absent, which I love the best.

In the reign of king John there lived a nobleman called John de Sigonia, lord of that place in Touraine; his brothers were Philip and Briant. Briant, when very young, was made one of the French king's pages, and served him in that quality when he was taken prisoner by the 'This is an advantage that I could not have English. The king of England chanced to see hoped for, had I stayed near the French court, the youth, and being much pleased with his though I must confess I would not but have person and behaviour, begged him of the king seen it, because I believe it showed me some of his prisoner. It happened, some years after this, the finest places, and of the greatest persons, in that John, the other brother, who, in the course the world. One cannot hear a name mentioned of the war had raised himself to a considerable in it that does not bring to mind a piece of a post in the French army, was taken prisoner by gazette, nor see a man that has not signalised Briant, who at that time was an officer in the himself in a battle. One would fancy one's self king of England's guards. Briant knew nothing to be in the enchanted palaces of a romance; of his brother, and being naturally of a haughty one meets so many heroes, and finds something temper, treated him very insolently, and more so like scenes of magic in the gardens, statues, like a criminal than a prisoner of war. This and water-works. I am ashamed that I am not John resented so highly, that he challenged him able to make a quicker progress through the to a single combat. The challenge was accept- French tongue, because I believe it is impossied, and time and place assigned them by the ble for a learner of a language to find in any king's appointment. Both appeared on the day nation such advantages as in this, where every prefixed, and entered the lists completely armed, body is so very courteous, and so very talkative. amidst a great multitude of spectators. Their They always take care to make a noise as long first encounters were very furious, and the suc- as they are in company, and are as loud any cess equal on both sides; until after some toil hour in the morning, as our own countrymen and bloodshed they were parted by their seconds at midnight. By what I have seen, there is to fetch breath, and prepare themselves afresh more mirth in the French conversation, and for the combat. Briant, in the mean time, had more wit in the English. You abound more in cast his eye upon his brother's escutcheon, which jests, but they in laughter. Their language is, he saw agree in all points with his own. I need indeed, extremely proper to tattle in, it is made

up of so much repetition and compliment. One | ver it out of its present degeneracy and depramay know a foreigner by his answering only vation of manners. It seems to promise us an No or Yes to a question, which a Frenchman honest and virtuous posterity. There will be generally makes a sentence of. They have a few in the next generation who will not at least set of ceremonious phrases that run through all be able to write and read, and have not had an ranks and degrees among them. Nothing is early tincture of religion. It is therefore to be more common than to hear a shop-keeper desir-hoped that the several persons of wealth and ing his neighbour to have the goodness to tell him what it is o'clock, or a couple of cobblers, that are extremely glad of the honour of seeing one another.

The face of the whole country where I now am, is at this season pleasant beyond imagina. tion. I cannot but fancy the birds of this place, as well as the men, a great deal merrier than those of our own nation. I am sure the French year has got the start of ours more in the works of nature, than in the new style. I have past one March in my life without being ruffled with the winds, and one April without being washed with rains. I am, sir, yours.'

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Quod neque in Armeniis tigres fecere latebris:
Perdere nec foetus asa Leena stos.

At tenere faciunt, sed non impune, puellæ;
Sæpe, suos utero que necat, ipsa perit.

Ocid. Amor. Lib. 2. Eleg. xiv. 35.

The tigresses, that haunt th' Armenian wood,
Will spare their proper young, tho' pinch'd for food!
Nor will the Lybian lionesses slay

Their whelps: but women are more fierce than they,
More barbarous to the tender fruit they bear;
Nor Nature's call, tho' loud she cries, will hear.
But righteous vengeance oft their crimes pursues,
And they are lost themselves who would their chil
dren lose.

Anon.

quality, who made their procession through the members of these new-erected seminaries, will not regard them only as an empty spectacle, or the materials of a fine show, but contribute to their maintenance and increase. For my part, I can scarce forbear looking on the astonishing victories our arms have been crowned with, to be in some measure the blessings returned upon that national charity which has been so conspicuous of late; and that the great successes of the last war, for which we lately offered up our thanks, were in some measure occasioned by the several objects which then stood before us.

Since I am upon this subject, I shall mention a piece of charity which has not been yet exerted among us, and which deserves our attention the more, because it is practised by most of the nations about us. I mean a provision for foundlings, or for those children who, through want of such a provision, are exposed to the barbarity of cruel and unnatural parents. One does not know how to speak on such a subject without horror: but what multitudes of infants have been made away by those who brought them into the world, and were afterwards either ashamed, or unable to provide for them!

There is scarce an assizes where some unhappy wretch is not executed for the murder of a child. And how many more of these monsters of inhumanity may we suppose to be wholly unTHERE was no part of the show on the thanks- discovered, or cleared for want of legal evidence! giving day that so much pleased and affected Not to mention those, who, by unnatural pracme as the little boys and girls who were ranged tices, do in some measure defeat the intentions with so much order and decency in that part of of Providence, and destroy their conceptions the Strand which reaches from the May-pole to even before they see the light. In all these, the Exeter-change. Such a numerous and innocent guilt is equal, though the punishment is not so. multitude, clothed in the charity of their bene-But to pass by the greatness of the crime (which factors, was a spectacle pleasing both to God is not to be expressed by words) if we only conand man, and a more beautiful expression of joy sider it as it robs the commonwealth of its full and thanksgiving than could have been exhi-number of citizens, it certainly deserves the ut bited by all the pomps of a Roman triumph.-- most application and wisdom of a people to preNever did a more full and unspotted chorus of vent it. human creatures join together in a hymn of devotion. The care and tenderness which appeared in the looks of their several instructors, who were disposed among this little helpless people, could not forbear touching every heart that had any sentiments of humanity.

I am very sorry that her majesty did not see this assembly of objects, so proper to excite that charity and compassion which she bears to all who stand in need of it, though, at the same time, I question not but her royal bounty will extend itself to them. A charity bestowed on the education of so many of her young subjects, has more merit in it than a thousand pensions to those of a higher fortune who are in greater

It is certain, that which generally betrays these profligate women into it, and overcomes the tenderness which is natural to them on other occasions, is the fear of shame, or their inability to support those whom they give life to. I shall therefore show how this evil is prevented in other countries, as I have learned from those who have been conversant in the several great cities of Europe.

There are at Paris, Madrid, Lisbon, Rome, and many other large towns, great hospitals built like our colleges. In the walls of these hospitals are placed machines, in the shape of large lanthorns, with a little door in the side of them turned towards the street, and a bell hanging by them. The child is deposited in this I have always looked on this institution of lanthorn, which is immediately turned about charity schools, which of late years has so uni- into the inside of the hospital. The person who versally prevailed through the whole nation, as conveys the child, rings the Bell, and leaves it the glory of the age we live in, and the most there, upon which the proper officer comes and proper means that can be made use of to reco-receives it without making farther inquiries.

stations in life.

The parent, or her friend, who lays the child there, generally leaves a note with it, declaring whether it be yet christened, the name it should be called by, the particular marks upon it, and the like.

her good graces, or if not, who is the happy person.

I fell asleep in this agreeable reverie, when on a sudden methought Aurelia lay by my side. I was placed by her in the posture of Milton's Adam, and "with looks of cordial love hung over her enamour'd." As I cast my eye upon her bosom, it appeared to be all of crystal, and so wonderfully transparent that I saw every thought in her heart. The first images I discovered in it were fans, silk, ribands, laces, and many other gewgaws, which lay so thick together, that the whole heart was nothing else but a toy-shop. These all faded away and va

It often happens that the parent leaves a note for the maintenance and education of the child, or takes it out after it has been some years in the hospital. Nay, it has been known that the father has afterwards owned the young foundling for his son, or left his estate to him. This is certain, that many are by this means preserved and do signal services to their country, who, without such a provision, might have perished as abortives, or have come to an un-nished, when immediately I discerned a long timely end, and perhaps have brought upon their guilty parents the like destruction.

This I think is a subject that deserves our most serious consideration, for which reason I hope I shall not be thought impertinent in lay. ing it before my readers.

No. 106.]

IF

Monday, July 13, 1713.

Quod latet arcanà, non enarrabile, fibra.

Pers. Sat. v. 29..

The deep recesses of the human breast.

As I was making up my Monday's provision for the public, I received the following letter, which being a better entertainment than any I can furnish out myself, I shall set it before the reader, and desire him to fall on without farther ceremony.

SIR,-Your two kinsmen and predecessors of immortal memory, were very famous for their dreams and visions, and, contrary to all other authors, never pleased their readers more than when they were nodding. Now it is observed, that the second sight generally runs in the blood; and, sir, we are in hopes that you yourself, like the rest of your family, may at length prove a dreamer of dreams, and a scer of visions. In the mean while, I beg leave to make you a present of a dream, which may serve to lull your readers until such time as you yourself shall think fit to gratify the public with any of your nocturnal discoveries.

You must understand, sir, I had yesterday been reading and ruminating upon that passage where Momus is said to have found fault with the make of a man, because he had not a window in his breast. The moral of this story is very obvious, and means no more than that the heart of man is so full of wiles and artifices, treachery and deceit, that there is no guessing at what he is, from his speeches, and outward appearances. I was immediately reflecting how happy each of the sexes would be, if there was a window in the breast of every one that makes or receives love. What protestations and perjuries would be saved on the one side, what hypocrisy and dissimulation on the other! I am myself very far gone in this passion for Aurelia, a woman of an unsearchable heart. I would give the world to know the secrets of it, and particulary whether I am really in

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train of coaches and six, equipages, and liveries, that ran through the heart one after another in a very great hurry for above half an hour together. After this, looking very attentively, I observed the whole space to be filled with a hand of cards, in which I could see distinctly three mattadors. There then followed a quick succession of different scenes. A playhouse, a church, a court, a puppet-show, rose up one after another, until at last they all of them gave place to a pair of new shoes, which kept footing in the heart for a whole hour. These were driven off at last by a lap-dog, who was succeeded by a guinea-pig, a squirrel and a monkey. I myself, to my no small joy, brought up the rear of these worthy favourites. I was ravished at being so happily posted, and in full possession of the heart: but as I saw the little figure of myself simpering and mightily pleased with its situation, on a sudden the heart methought gave a sigh, in which, as I found afterwards, my little representative vanished; for, upon applying my eye, I found my place taken up by an ill-bred, awkward puppy, with a money-bag under each arm. This gentleman, however, did not keep his station long, before he yielded it up to a wight as disagreeable as himself, with a white stick in his hand. These three last figures represented to me, in a lively manner, the conflicts in Aurelia's heart, between love, avarice, and ambition, for we justled one another out by turns, and disputed the post for a great while. But at last, to my unspeakable satisfaction, I saw myself entirely settled in it. I was so transported with my success, that I could not forbear hugging my dear piece of crystal, when, to my unspeakable mortification, I awaked, and found my mistress metamorphosed into a pillow.

This is not the first time I have been thus disappointed.

O venerable Nestor, if you have any skill in dreams, let me know whether I have the same place in the real heart, that I had in the visionary one. To tell you truly, I am perplexed to death between hope and fear. I was very sanguine until eleven o'clock this morning, when I overheard an unlucky old woman telling her neighbour that dreams always went by contraries. I did not, indeed, before much like the crystal heart, remembering that confounded simile in Valentinian, of a maid “as cold as crystal never to be thawed." Besides, I verily believe if I had slept a little longer, that awkward whelp with his money-bags, would certainly have made his second entrance. If you

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