benigno lettore, un parto di poche sere, che sebben nato di notte, non è però aborto di tenebre, ma si farà conoscere figliolo d'Apollo con qualche raggio di Parnasso. 'Behold, gentle reader, the birth of a few evenings, which, though it be the offspring of the night, is not the abortive of darkness, but will make itself known to be the son of Apollo, with a certain ray of Parnassus.' He afterwards proceeds to call Mynheer Handel the Orpheus of our age, and to acquaint us, in the same sublimity of style, that he composed this opera in a fortnight. Such are the wits to whose tastes we so ambitiously conform ourselves. The truth of it is, the finest writers among the modern Italians express themselves in such a florid form of words, and such tedious circumlocutions, as are used by none but pedants in our own country; and at the same time fill their writings with such poor imaginations and conceits, as our youths are ashamed of before they have been two years at the university. Some may be apt to think that it is the difference of genius which produces this difference in the works of the two nations; but to shew there is nothing in this, if we look into the writings of the old Italians, such as Cicero and Virgil, we shall find that the English writers, in their way of thinking and expressing themselves, resemble those authors much more than the modern Italians pretend to do. And as for the poet himself, from whom the dreams of this opera1 are taken, I must entirely agree with Monsieur Boileau, that one verse in Virgil is worth all the elinquant or tinsel of Tasso.2 1 Rinaldo, an opera, planned by Aaron Hill: versified by G. Rossi, set by Handel. Walsh got £1,500 by printing it.-G. 2 A Malherbe, à Racan préférer Théophile Et le clinquant du Tasse à tout l'or de Virgile.-Boileau, sat. ix. 175. By consulting this celebrated passage of Boileau, it will be seen that it is far from bearing out Addison's sweeping assertion. French critics have even restricted it to a mere condemnation of some of the acknowledged faults of Tasso's style. V. Notes on Travels' pass.--G. But to return to the sparrows; there have been so many flights of them let loose in this opera, that it is feared the house will never get rid of them; and that in other plays they may make their entrance in very wrong and improper scenes, so as to be seen flying in a lady's bed-chamber, or perching upon a king's throne; besides the inconveniences which the heads of the audience may sometimes suffer from them. I am credibly informed, that there was once a design of casting into an opera the story of Whittington' and his cat, and that in order to do it, there had been got together a great quantity of mice; but Mr. Rich, the proprietor of the playhouse, very prudently considered, that it would be impossible for the cat to kill them all, and that consequently the princes of the stage might be as much infested with mice, as the prince of the island was before the cat's arrival upon it; for which reason he would not permit it to be acted in his house. And indeed I cannot blame him: for, as he said upon that occasion, I do not hear that any of the performers in our opera pretend to equal the famous pied piper, who made all the mice of a great town in Germany follow his music, and by that means cleared the place of those little noxious animals. very well Before I dismiss this paper, I must inform my reader, that I 1 There was a play entered on the books of the stationer's company by Thomas Payner, Feb. 8, 1604. The History of Richard Whittington, of his home, birthe, and of his great fortune, as yt was plaied by the Prynces Servauntes.' Powel, the puppet-showman, got up a piece upon the same subject (v. No. 14). It may not be unwelcome to young readers to be told that Whittington lived at the latter part of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth century-was a mercer, made a large fortune, was mayor of London four times, and was buried three times in St. Michael's Church, Pater Noster vintry yard.-G. 2 June 26, 1284. The rats and mice by which Hamelin was infested, were allured, it is said, by a piper, to a contiguous river, in which they were all drowned.-C. hear there is a treaty on foot with London and Wise' (who will be appointed gardeners of the playhouse) to furnish the opera of Rinaldo and Armida with an orange-grove; and that the next time it is acted, the singing birds will be personated by tom-tits: the undertakers being resolved to spare neither pains nor money for the gratification of the audience. C. NO. 7. THURSDAY, MARCH 8. Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, HOR. L. ii. Ep. 2, v. 208. Visions, and magic spells, can you despise, And laugh at witches, ghosts, and prodigies? GOING yesterday to dine with an old acquaintance, I had the misfortune to find his whole family very much dejected. Upon asking him the occasion of it, he told me that his wife had dreamt a strange dream the night before, which they were afraid portended some misfortune to themselves or to their children. At her coming into the room, I observed a settled melancholy in her countenance, which I should have been troubled for, had I not heard from whence it proceeded. We were no sooner sat down, but, after having looked upon me a little while, 'My dear,' says she, turning to her husband, you may now see the stranger that was in the candle last night.' Soon after this, as they began to talk of family affairs, a little boy at the lower end of the table told her, that he was to go into join-hand on Thursday. Thursday!' says she. No, child, if it please God, you shall not begin upon Childermas-day; tell your writing master that Friday 1 London and Wise were the Queen's gardeners at this time, and jointly concerned in the publication of a book on gardening.—C. will be soon enough.' I was reflecting with myself on the oddness of her fancy, and wondering that any body would establish it as a rule to lose a day in every week. In the midst of these my musings, she desired me to reach her a little salt upon the point of my knife, which I did in such a trepidation and hurry of obedience, that I let it drop by the way; at which she immediately startled, and said it fell towards her. Upon this I looked very blank; and observing the concern of the whole table, began to consider myself, with some confusion, as a person that had brought a disaster upon the family. The lady, however, recovering herself, after a little space, said to her husband, with a sigh, 'My dear, misfortunes never come single.' My friend, I found, acted but an under part at his table, and being a man of more good-nature than understanding, thinks himself obliged to fall in with all the passions and humours of his yoke-fellow. 'Do not you remember, child,' says she, 'that the pigeon-house fell the very afternoon that our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table?' 'Yes,' says he, My dear; and the next post brought us an account of the battle of Almanza.'1 The reader may guess at the figure I made, after having done all this mischief. I dispatched my dinner as soon as I could, with my usual taciturnity; when, to my utter confusion, the lady seeing me quitting my knife and fork, and laying them across one another upon my plate, desired me that I would humour her so far as to take them out of that figure, and place them side by side. What the absurdity was which I had committed I did not know, but I suppose there was some traditionary superstition in it; and therefore, in obedience to the lady of the house, I disposed of my knife and fork, in two parallel lines, which is the figure I shall always 1 25 April, 1707-in which the allied armies were defeated by the Duke of Berwick with the loss of 12,000 men and all their artillery and baggage a sad disaster in the eyes of an English Whig.—C. lay them in for the future, though I do not know any reason for it.. It is not difficult for a man to see that a person has conceived in aversion to him. For my own part, I quickly found, by the lady's looks, that she regarded me as a very odd kind of fellow, with an unfortunate aspect. For which reason I took my leave immediately after dinner, and withdrew to my own lodgings. Upon my return home, I fell into a profound contemplation of the evils that attend these superstitious follies of mankind; how they subject us to imaginary afflictions, and additional sorrows, that do not properly come within our lot. As if the natural calamities of life were not sufficient for it, we turn the most indifferent circumstances into misfortunes, and suffer as much from trifling accidents, as from real evils. I have known the shooting of a star spoil a night's rest; and have seen a man in love, grow pale, and lose his appetite, upon the plucking of a merry-thought. A screech owl at midnight has alarmed a family more than a band of robbers: nay, the voice of a cricket hath struck more terror than the roaring of a lion. There is nothing so inconsiderable, which may not appear dreadful to an imagination that is filled with omens and prognostics. pin, shoot up into prodigies. A rusty nail, or a crooked I remember I was once in a mixt assembly, that was full of noise and mirth, when on a sudden an old woman unluckily observed there where thirteen of us in company. This remark struck a panic terror into several who were present, insomuch that one or two of the ladies were going to leave the room; but a friend of mine taking notice that one of our female companions was big with child, affirmed, there were fourteen in the room, and that, instead of portending one of the company should die, it plainly foretold one of them should be born. Had not my friend found this expedient to break the omen, I question not but half |