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the perplexities of the path in which they were | applied. These distinctions made me, without engaged. The remaining part of this vision, hesitation, though I had never seen her before, and the adventures I met with in the two great ask her, if her lady had any commands for roads of Ambition and Avarice, must be the me?' She then began to weep afresh, and subject of another paper. with many broken sighs told me, that their family was in very great affliction.' I beseeched her to compose herself, for that I might possibly be capable of assisting them.' She then cast her eye upon my little dog, and was again transported with too much passion to proceed; but, with much ado, she at last gave me to understand, that Cupid, her lady's lap-dog, was dangerously ill, and in so bad a condition, that her lady neither saw company, nor went abroad, for which reason she did not come herself to consult me; that, as I had mentioned with great affection my own dog,' (here she courtesied, and looking first at the cur and then on me, said, indeed I had reason, for he was very pretty) her lady sent to me rather than to any other doctor, and hoped I would vice." I must confess, I had some indignation not laugh at her sorrow, but send her my adto find myself treated like something below a farrier; yet, well knowing that the best, as well as most tender way, of dealing with a woman, is to fall in with her humours, and by that means to let her see the absurdity of them, I proceeded accordingly. 'Pray, madam,' said I, can you give me any methodical account of this illness, and how Cupid was first taken ?' Sir,' said she, we have a little ignorant country girl, who is kept to tend him; she was recommended to our family by one that my lady never saw but once, at a visit; and you know persons of quality are always inclined to strangers; for I could have helped her to a cousin of my own, but'-' Good madam,' said I, 'you neglect the account of the sick body, while you are complaining of this girl.' No, no, sir,' said she, begging your pardon: but it is the general fault of physicians, they are so in haste that they never hear out the case. I say, this silly girl after washing Cupid, let bim stand half an hour in the window without his collar, where he catched cold, and in an hour after, began to bark very hoarse. He had, however, a pretty good night, and we hoped the danger was over; but for these two nights last past, neither he nor my lady have slept a wink.' Has he,' said I, 'taken any thing?' but my lady says he shali take any thing that you prescribe, provided you do not make use of Jesuit's powder, or the cold bath.+ Poor Cupid,' continued she, has always een phthisical; and, as he lies





I have this morning received the following letter from the famous Mr. Thomas Dogget.



On Monday next will be acted, for my benefit, the comedy of Love for Love. If will do me the honour to appear there, I will publish on the bills, that it is to be performed at the request of Isaac Bickerstaff, esquire, and question not but it will bring me as great an audience, as ever was at the house, since the Morocco Ambassador was there." I am, with the greatest respect, your most obedient and most humble servant,


Being naturally an encourager of wit, as well as bound to it in the quality of Censor, I returned the following answer:


I am very well pleased with the choice you have made of so excellent a play, and have always looked upon you as the best of comedians; I shall therefore come in between the first and second act, and remain in the right hand box over the pit until the end of the fourth; provided you take care that every thing be rightly prepared for my reception.'

No. 121.]

Tuesday, January 17, 1709.
Similis tibi, Cynthia, vel tibi, cujus
Turbavit nitidos extinctus passer ocelios.
Juv. Sat. vi. 7.

Like Cynthia, or the Lesbias of our years,
Who for a sparrow's death dissolve in tears.

to see me.'

From my own Apartment, January 16. I WAS recollecting the remainder of my vision, when my maid came to me, and told me, 'there was a gentlewoman below who seemed to be in great trouble, and pressed very much When it lay in my power to reremove the distress of an unhappy person, I thought I should very ill employ my time in attending to matters of speculation, and there-'No,' said she; fore desired the lady would walk in. When she entered, I saw her eyes full of tears. How ever, her grief was not so great as to make her omit rules; for she was very long and exact in her civilities, which gave me time to view and consider her. Her clothes were very rich, but tarnished; and her words very fine, but ill

About three years before this time, in 1706, towards the end of April, the Morocco ambassador made his public eniry into London, and was admitted to his audience.

• Yet Winchester, the surgeon, got a good estate close to Barham, for setting the leg of a gentleman's dog.

The Peruvian bark, one of the most valuable articles in the materia medica, had found its way into Europe, above half a century before this time, but it had not yet over. come prejudices and opposition.

under something like a chin-cough, we are man life, I find my task growing upon me, afraid it will end in a consumption.' I then since, by these accidental cares, and acquired asked her, if she had brought any of his water calamities, if I may so call them, my patients to show me.' Upon this, she stared me in the contract distempers to which their constitution face, and said, 'I am afraid, Mr. Bickerstaff, is of itself a stranger. But this is an evil I have you are not serious; but, if you have any re- for many years remarked in the fair sex; and ceipt that is proper on this occasion, pray let as they are by nature very much formed for us have it; for my mistress is not to be com- affection and dalliance, I have observed, that forted. Upon this, I paused a little without when by too obstinate a cruelty, or any other returning any answer, and after some short means, they have disappointed themselves of ilence, I proceeded in the following manner: the proper objects of love, as husbands, or chilI have considered the nature of the distemper, dren, such virgins have, exactly at such a year, and the constitution of the patient; and, by grown fond of lap-dogs, parrots, or other anithe best observation that I can make on both mals. I know at this time a celebrated toast, I think it is safest to put him into a course of whom I allow to be one of the most agreeable kitchen physic. In the mean time, to remove of her sex, that, in the presence of her admirers, his boarseness, it will be the most natural way will give a torrent of kisses to her cat, any one to make Cupid his own druggist; for which of which a Christian would be glad of. I do reason, I shall prescribe to him, three morn- not at the same time deny, but there are as ings successively, as much powder as will lie great enormities of this kind committed by on a groat, of that noble remedy which the our sex as theirs. A Roman emperor had so apothecaries call Album Græcum. Upon very great an esteem for a horse of his, that hearing this advice, the young woman smiled, he had thoughts of making him a consul; and as if she knew how ridiculous an errand she several moderns of that rank of men whom had been employed in; and indeed I found by we call country esquires, would not scruple the sequel of her discourse, that she was an to kiss their hounds before all the world, and arch baggage, and of a character that is fre- declare in the presence of their wives, that they quent enough in persons of her employment; had rather salute a favourite of the pack, than who are so used to conform themselves in every the finest woman in England. These volunthing to the humours and passions of their tary friendships, between animals of different mistresses, that they sacrifice superiority of species, seem to arise from instinct; for which sense to superiority of condition, and are in- reason, I have always looked upon the mutual sensibly betrayed into the passions and preju-good-will between the esquire and the hound, dices of those whom they serve, without giving to be of the same nature with that between themselves leave to consider that they are ex- the lion and the jackall. travagant and ridiculous. However, I thought it very natural, when her eyes were thus open, to see her give a new turn to her discourse, and, from sympathising with her mistress in her follies, to fall a-railing at her. 'You cannot imagine,' said she, Mr. Bickerstaff, what a life she makes us lead, for the sake of this little ugly cur. If he dies, we are the most unhappy family in town. She chanced to lose a parrot last year, which, to tell you truly, brought me into her service; for she turned off her woman upon it, who had lived with her ten years, because she neglected to give him water, though every one of the family says she was as innocent of the bird's death, as the babe that is unborn; nay, she told me this very morning, that if Cupid should die, she would send the poor innocent wench I was telling you of to Bridewell, and have the milk-woman tried for her life at the Old-Bailey, for putting water into his milk. In short, she talks like any distracted creature.'


Since it is so, young woman,' said 1, 'I will by no means let you offend her, by staying on this message longer than is absolutely ne. cessary;' and so forced her out.

While I am studying to cure those evils and distresses that are necessary or natural to hu

The only extravagance of this kind which appears to me excusable, is one that grew out of an excess of gratitude, which I have somewhere met with in the life of a Turkish emperor. His horse had brought him safe out of a field of battle, and from the pursuit of a victorious enemy. As a reward for such his good and faithful service, his master built him a stable of marble, shod him with gold, fed him in an ivory manger, and made him a rack of silver. He annexed to the stable several fields and meadows, lakes and running streams. At the same time he provided for him a seraglio of mares, the most beautiful that could be found in the whole Ottoman empire. To these were added a suitable train of domestics, consisting of grooms, farriers, rubbers, &c. accommodated with proper liveries and pensions. In short, nothing was omitted that could contribute to the ease and happiness of his life, who had preserved the emperor's.

By reason of the extreme cold, and the changeableness of the weather, I have been prevailed upon to allow the free use of the fardingal, until the twentieth of February next ensuing.

No. 122.] Thursday, January, 19. 1709-10.

Cur in theatrum, Cato severe, venisti?
Why to the theatre did Cato come,
With all his boasted gravity?

of honour, religion, or morality. When, therefore, we see any thing divert an audience, either in tragedy or comedy, that strikes at the duties of civil life, or exposes what the best men in all ages have looked upon as sacred and inviolable; it is the certain sign of a profligate race of men, who are fallen from the virtue of their forefathers, and will be contemptible in the eyes of their posterity. For this reason, I took great delight in seeing the generous and disinterested passion of the lovers in this comedy, which stood so many trials, and was proved by such a variety of diverting incidents, received with a universal approbation. This brings to my mind a passage in Cicero, which I could never read without being in love with the virtue of a Roman audience. He there describes the shouts and applauses which the people gave to the persons who acted the parts of Pylades and Orestes, in the noblest occasion that a poet could invent to show friendship in perfection. One of them had forfeited his life by an action which he had committed; and as they stood in judgment before the tyrant, each of them strove who should be the criminal, that he might save the life of his friend. Amidst the vehemence of each asserting himself to be the offender, the Roman audience gave a thunder of applause, and by that means, as the author hints, approved in others what they would have done themselves on the like occasion. Methinks, a people of so much virtue were deservedly placed at the head of mankind: but, alas! pleasures of this nature are not frequently to be met with on the English stage.


R. Wynne.

From my own Apartment, January 18. I FIND it is thought necessary, that I, who have taken upon me to censure the irregularities of the age, should give an account of my own actions, when they appear doubtful, or subject to misconstruction. My appearing at the play on Monday* last is looked upon as a step in my conduct, which I ought to explain, that others may not be misled by my example. It is true, in matter of fact, I was present at the ingenious entertainment of that day, and placed myself in a box which was prepared for me with great civility and distinction. It is said of Virgil, when he entered a Roman theatre, where there were many thousands of spectators present, that the whole assembly rose up to do him honour; a respect which was never before paid to any but the emperor. I must confess, that universal clap, and other testimonies of applause, with which I was received at my first appearance in the theatre of Great Britain, gave me as sensible a delight, as the above-mentioned reception could give to that immortal poet. I should be ungrateful, at the same time, if I did not take this opportunity of acknowledging the great civilities that were shown me by Mr. Thomas Dogget, who made his compliments to me between the acts after a most ingenious and discreet manner; and at the same time communicated to me, that the company of Upholders desired to receive me at their door at the end of the Hay-market, and to light me home to my lodgings.' That part of the ceremony I forbade, and took particular care during the whole play to observe the conduct of the drama, and give no offence by my own behaviour. Here I think it will not be foreign to my character, to lay down the proper duties of an audience, and what is incumbent upon each individual spectator in public diversions of this nature. Every one should, on these occasions, show his atten-lated literally: tion, understanding, and virtue. I would undertake to find out all the persons of sense and breeding by the effect of a single sentence, and to distinguish a gentleman as much by his laugh, as his bow. When we see the footman and his lord diverted by the same jest, it very much turns to the diminution of the one, or the honour of the other. But though a man's quality may appear in his understanding and taste, the regard to virtue ought to be the same in all ranks and conditions of men, however they make a profession of it, under the name

* A person dressed for Isaac Bickerstaff did appear at the playhouse on this occasion.

The Athenians, at a time when they were the most polite, as well as the most powerful government in the world, made the care of the stage one of the chief parts of the administra tion: and I must confess, I am astonished at the spirit of virtue which appeared in that people, upon some expressions in a scene of a. famous tragedy; an account of which we have in one of Seneca's Epistles. A covetous person is represented speaking the common 'sentiments of all who are possessed with that vice in the following soliloquy, which I have trans

'Let me be called a base man, so I am called a rich one. If a man is rich, who asks if he is good? The question is, how much we have, not from whence, or by what means, we have it. Every one has so much merit as he has wealth. For my own part let me be rich, O! ye gods! or let me die. The man dies happily who dies increasing his treasure. There is more pleasure in the possession of wealth, than in that of parents, children, wife, or friends.'

The audience were very much provoked by the first words of this speech; but when the

actor came to the close of it, they could bear | No. 123.]
no longer. In short, the whole assembly rose
up at once in the greatest fury, with a design
to pluck him off the stage, and brand the work
itself with infamy. In the midst of the tumult,
the author came out from behind the scenes,
begging the audience to be composed for a
little while, and they should see the tragical
end which this wretch should come to imme-
diately. The promise of punishment appeased
the people, who sat with great attention and
pleasure to see an example made of so odious
a criminal. It is with shame and concern that
I speak it; but I very much question, whether
it is possible to make a speech so impious as
to raise such a laudable horror and indignation
in a modern audience. It is very natural for
an author to make ostentation of his reading,
as it is for an old man to tell stories; for which
reason I must beg the reader will excuse me,
if I for once indulge myself in both these in-
clinations. We see the attention, judgment,
and virtue of a whole audience, in the foregoing
instances. If we would imitate the behaviour
of a single spectator, let us reflect upon that of
Socrates, in a particular which gives me as
great an idea of that extraordinary man, as
any circumstance of his life, or, what is more,
of his death. This venerable person often fre-
quented the theatre, which brought a great
many thither, out of a desire to see him. On
which occasion, it is recorded of him, that he
sometimes stood, to make himself the more
conspicuous, and to satisfy the curiosity of the
beholders. He was one day present at the first
representation of a tragedy of Euripides, who
was his intimate friend, and whom he is said to
have assisted in several of his plays. In the
midst of the tragedy, which had met with very
great success, there chanced to be a line that
seemed to encourage vice and immorality.

This was no sooner spoken, but Socrates rose from his seat, and, without any regard to his affection for his friend, or to the success of the play, showed himself displeased at what was said, and walked out of the assembly. I question not but the reader will be curious to know, what the line was that gave this divine heathen so much offence. If my memory fails me not, it was in the part of Hippolitus, who, when he is pressed by an oath, which he had taken to keep silence, returned for answer, that he had taken the oath with his tongue, but not with his heart. Had a person of a vicious character made such a speech, it might have been allowed as a proper representation of the baseness of his thoughts: but such an expression, out of the mouth of the virtuous Hippolitus, was giving a sanction to falsehood, and establishing perjury by a maxim.

Having got over all interruptions, I have set apart to-morrow for the closing of my vision.

Saturday, January 21, 1709.

Audire, atque togam jubeo componere, quisquis
Ambitione malà, aut argenti pallet amore.

Hor. 2. Sat. iii. 77.
Come all, whose breasts with bad ambition rise,
Or the pale passion, that for money dies,-
Compose your robes-

From my own Apartment, January 20.


WITH much labour and difficulty I passed through the first part of my vision, and recovered the centre of the wood, from whence I had the prospect of the three great roads. I here joined myself to the middle-aged party of mankind, who marched behind the standard of Ambition. The great road lay in a direct line, and was terminated by the Temple of Virtue.' It was planted on each side with laurels, which were intermixed with marble trophies, carved pillars, and statues of lawgivers, heroes, statesmen, philosophers, and poets. The persons who travelled up this great path were such whose thoughts were bent upon doing eminent services to mankind, or promoting the good of their country. On each side of this great road were several paths, that were also laid out in straight lines, and ran parallel with it. These were most of them covered walks, and received into them men of retired virtue, who proposed to themselves the same end of their journey, though chose to make it in shade and obscurity. The edifices at the extremity of the walk were so contrived, that we could not see the Temple of Honour' by reason of the 'Temple of Virtue,' which stood before it. At the gates of this temple we were met by the goddess of it, who conducted us into that of Honour, which was joined to the other edifice by a beautiful triumphal arch, and had no other entrance into it. When the deity of the inner structure had received us, she presented us in a body to a figure that was placed over the high-altar, and was the emblem of Eternity. She sat on a globe in the midst of a golden zodiac, holding the figure of a sun in one hand, and a moon in the other. Her head was veiled, and her feet covered. Our hearts glowed within us, as we stood amidst the sphere of light which this image cast on every side of it.

Having seen all that happened to this band of adventurers, I repaired to another pile of building that stood within view of the Temple of Honour,' and was raised in imitation of it, upon the very same model; but, at my approach to it, I found that the stones were laid together without mortar, and that the whole fabric stood upon so weak a foundation, that it shook with every wind that blew. This was called the Temple of Vanity.' The goddess of it sat in the midst of a great many tapers, that burned day and night, and made her ap

stream, which had such a particular quality in it, that though it refreshed them for a time, it rather inflamed than quenched their thirst. On each side of the river was a range of hills full of precious ore; for, where the rains had washed off the earth, one might see in several parts of them long veins of gold, and rocks that looked like pure silver. We were told, that the deity of the place had forbidden any of his votaries to dig into the bowels of these hills, or convert the treasures they contained to any use, under pain of starving. At the end of the valley stood the 'Temple of Avarice,' made after the manner of a fortification, and surrounded with a thousand triple-headed dogs, that were placed there to keep off beggars. At our approach, they all fell a-barking, and would have very much terrified us, had not an old woman who called herself by the forged name of Competency, offered herself for our guide. She carried, under her garment, a golden bough, which she no sooner held up in her hand, but the dogs lay down, and the gates flew open for our reception. We were led through a hundred iron doors before we entered the temple. At the upper end of it sat the god of Avarice, with a long filthy beard, and a meagre starved countenance, inclosed with heaps of ingots, and pyramids of money, but half naked and shivering with cold. On his right hand was a fiend called Rapine; and, on his left, a particular favourite, to whom he had given the title of Parsimony. The first was his collector, and the other his cashier.

pear much better than she would have done in |
open day-light. Her whole art was, to show
herself more beautiful and majestic than she
really was. For which reason she had painted
her face, and wore a cluster of false jewels
upon her breast: but what I more particularly
observed was, the breadth of her petticoat,
which was made altogether in the fashion of a
modern fardingal. This place was filled with
hypocrites, pedants, free-thinkers, and prating
politicians; with a rabble of those who have
only titles to make them great men. Female
votaries crowded the temple, choked up the
avenues of it, and were more in number than
the sand upon the sea shore. I made it my
business, in my return towards that part of the
wood from whence I first set out, to observe
the walk which led to this temple; for I met
in it several who had begun their journey with
the band of virtuous persons, and travelled
some time in their company: but, upon exa-
mination, I found that there were several paths
which led out of the great road into the sides
of the wood, and ran into so many crooked
turns and windings, that those who travelled
through them, often turned their backs upon
the Temple of Virtue;' then crossed the
straight road, and sometimes marched in it for
a little space, until the crooked path which
they were engaged in, again led them into the
wood. The several alleys of these wanderers
had their particular ornaments. One of them
I could not but take notice of in the walk of
the mischievous pretenders to politics, which
had at every turn the figure of a person, whom
by the inscription I found to be Machiavel,*
pointing out the way with an extended finger,
like a Mercury.

There were several long tables placed on each side of the temple, with respective officers attending behind them. Some of these I inquired into. At the first table was kept the 'Office of Corruption.' Seeing a solicitor extremely busy, and whispering every body that passed by; I kept my eye upon him very attentively, and saw him often going up to a person that had a pen in his hand, with a multiplication table and an almanack before him, which, as I afterwards heard, was all the learn

I was now returned in the same manner as before, with a design to observe carefully every thing that passed in the region of Avarice, and the occurrences in that assembly, which was made up of persons of my own age. This body of travellers had not gone far in the third great road, before it led them insensibly into a deep valley, in which they journied several daysing he was master of. The solicitor would often with great toil and uneasiness, and without the apply himself to his ear, and at the same time necessary refreshments of food and sleep. The convey money into his hand, for which the only relief they met with, was in a river that other would give him out a piece of paper or ran through the bottom of the valley on a bed parchment, signed and sealed in form. The of golden sand. They often drank of this name of this dexterous and successful solicitor was Bribery. At the next table was the 'Office of Extortion.' Behind it sat a person in a bob wig, counting over great sums of money. He gave out little purses to several; who, after a short tour, brought him, in return, sacks full of the same kind of coin. I saw, at the same time, a person called Fraud, who sat behind a counter with false scales, light weights, and scanty measures; by the skilful application o. which instruments, she had got together an immense heap of wealth. It would be endless to name the several officers, or describe the

• Nicholas Machiavel, an ingenious man and an elegant writer, was secretary, and afterwards historiographer to the republic of Florence, of which he was a native. Having discovered in his conduct a great deal of republican spirit, and bestowed many encomiums on Brutus and Cassins, both in his conversation and writings, he was suspected of

being concerned in the machinations of Soderini against

the house of Medicis. He suffered the torture upon this

suspicion, and had strength enough to bear the torment without confessing any thing. Having led a miserable life for some time, turning every thing into ridicule, and abaudoning himself to irreligion, he died, in 1530, of a remedy which he took by way of precantion.

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