was necessary to be observed upon my advancing again towards the street; by which prudence and good management I made a handsome and orderly retreat, having suffered no other damage in this action than the loss of my baggage, and the dislocation of one of my shoe-heels, which last I am just now informed is in a fair way of recovery. These sweaters, by what I can learn from my friend, and by as near a view as I was able to take of them myself, seem to me to have at present but a rude kind of discipline amongst them. It is probable, if you would take a little pains with them, they might be brought into better order. But I'll leave this to your own discretion; and will only add, that if you think it worth while to insert this by way of caution to those who have a mind to preserve their skins whole from this sort of cupping, and tell them at the same time the hazard of treating with night-walkers, you will perhaps oblige others, as well as your very humble servant, 6 JACK LIGHTFOOT.'

P. S. My friend will have me acquaint you, that though he would not willingly detract from the merit of that extraordinary strokesman, Mr. Sprightly, (N... 319) yet it is his real opinion, that some of those fellows, who are employed as rubbers to this new-fashioned bagnio, have struck as bold strokes as ever he did in his life.

'I had sent this four and twenty hours sooner, if I had not had the misfortune of being in a great doubt about the orthography of the word bagnio. I consulted several dictionaries, but found no relief; at last, having recourse both to the bagnio in Newgate-street, and to that in Chancery-lane,

and finding the original manuscripts upon the sign-posts of each to agree literally with my own spelling, I returned home full of satisfaction in order to despatch this epistle.'

'MR. SPECTATOR,

'As you have taken most of the circumstances of human life into your consideration, we the underwritten thought it not proper for us also to represent to you our condition. We are three ladies who live in the country, and the greatest improvement we make is by reading. We have taken a small journal of our lives, and find it extremely opposite to your last Tuesday's speculation. We rise by seven, and pass the beginning of each day in devotion, and looking into those affairs that fall within the occurrences of a retired life; in the afternoon we sometimes enjoy the company of some friend or neighbour, or else work or read; at night we retire to our chambers, and take leave of each other for the whole night at ten o'clock. We take particular care never to be sick of a Sunday. Mr. Spectator, we are all very good maids, but are ambitious of characters which we think more laudable, that of being very good wives. If any of your correspondents inquire for a spouse for an honest country gentleman, whose estate is not dipped, and wants a wife that can save half his revenue, and yet make a better figure than any of his neighbours of the same estate, with finer bred women, you shall have further notice from, sir, your courteous readers,

MARTHA BUSY,

6 DEBORAH THRIFTY,
ALICE EARLY.'

STEELE.

T

No. 333. SATUDAY, MARCH 22.

Vocat in certamina divos. VIRG.

He calls embattled deities to arms.

We are now entering upon the sixth book of Paradise Lost, in which the poet describes the battle of angels; having raised his reader's expectation, and prepared him for it by several passages in the preceding books. I omitted quoting these passages in my observations on the former books, having purposely reseserved them for the opening of this, the subject of which gave occasion to them. The author's imagination was so inflamed with this great scene of action, that, wherever he speaks of it, he rises, if possible, above himself. Thus where he mentions Satan in the beinning of his poem:

-Him the Almighty pow'r

Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down

To bottomless perdition; there to dwell

In adamantine chains and penal fire,

Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.

We have likewise several noble hints of it in the infernal conference.

O prince! O Chief of many throned powers,
That led th' embattled seraphim to war!
Too well I see and rue the dire event,

· That with sad overthrow and foul defeat
Hath lost us heav'n; and all this mighty host
In horrible destruction laid thus low.

But see! the angry victor has recall'd
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit
Back to the gates of heav'n: the sulph'rous hail
Shot after us in storm, o'erblown, hath laid
The fiery surge, that form'd the precipice
Of heav'n receiv'd us falling: and the thunder,
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage,
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now
To bellow through the vast and boundless deep.

There are several other very sublime images on the same subject in the first book, as also in the second.

What! when we fled amain, pursued, and struck
With heaven's afflicting thunder; and besought
The deep to shelter us; this hell then seem'd
A refuge from those wounds-

In short, the poet never mentions any thing of this battle, but in such images of greatness and terror as are suitable to the subject. Among several others, I can not forbear quoting that passage, where the power who is described as presiding over the chaos, speaks in the second

book.

Thus Satan: and him thus the Anarch old,
With fault'ring speech, and visage incompos'd,
Answer'd: I know thee, stranger, who thou art,
That mighty leading angel, who of late

Made head against heaven's king, tho' overthrown.
I saw and heard, for such a num'rous host
Fled not in silence through the frighted deep,
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout,

Confusion worse confounded, and heaven's gates
Pour'd out by millions her victorious bands
Pursuing-

It required great pregnancy of invention, and strength of imagination to fill this battle with such circumstances as should raise and astonish the mind of the reader; and at the same time an exactness of judgment, to avoid every thing that might appear light or trivial. Those who look into Homer are surprised to find his battles still rising one above another, and improving in horror to the conclusion of the Iliad. Milton's fight of angels is wrought up with the same beauty. It is ushered in with such signs of wrath as are suitable to Omnipotence incensed. The first engagement is carried on under a cope of fire, occasioned by the flights of innumerable burning darts and arrows, which are discharged from either host. The second onset is still more terrible, as it is filled with those artificial thunders, which seem to make the victory doubtful, and produce a kind of consternation even in the good angels. This is followed by the tearing up of mountains and promontories; till in the last place the Messiah comes forth in the fulness of majesty and terror. The pomp of his appearance amidst the roarings of his thunders, the flashes of his lightnings, and the noise of his chariot-wheels, is described with the utmost flights of human imagination.

There is nothing in the first and last day's engagement, which does not appear natural and agreeable enough to the ideas most readers would conceive of a fight between two armies of angels.

The second day's engagement is apt to startle an imagination, which has not been raised and qualified for such a description, by the reading