'July 30. Full of thoughts like these, I make it a rule to lose as little as I can of that blessed season; and accordingly rise with the sun, and wander through the fields, throw myself on the banks of little rivulets, or lose myself in the woods. I spent a day or two this spring at a country gentleman's seat, where I feasted my imagination every morning with the most luxurious prospect of an old castle built upon a high hill. A noble river ran at the foot of it, which after being broken by a heap of misshapen stones, glided away in a clear stream, and wandering through two woods on each side of it in many windings, shone here and there at a great distance through the trees. I could trace the mazes for some miles, until my eye was led through two ridges of hills, and terminated by a vast mountain in another county. 'MR. IRONSIDE,-I have always been very much pleased with the sight of those creatures, which being of a foreign growth, are brought into our island for show. I may say, there has not been a tiger, leopard, elephant, or hyghgeen, for some years past, in this nation, but I have taken their particular dimensions, and am able to give a very good description of them. But II ever saw. I usually took my stand by the wall must own, I never had a greater curiosity to visit any of these strangers than your lion. Accordingly I came yesterday to town, being able to wait no longer for fair weather, and made what haste I could to Mr. Button's, who readily conducted me to his den of state. He is really a creature of as noble a presence as I have seen; he has grandeur and good-humour in his countenance, which command both our love and respect; his shaggy mane and whiskers are peculiar graces. In short, I do not question but he will prove a worthy supporter of the British honour and virtue, especially when assisted by the unicorn. You must think I would not wait upon him without a morsel to gain his favour, and had provided what I hope would have pleased, but was unluckily prevented by the presence of a bear, which constantly as I approached with my present, threw his eyes in my way, and stared me out of my resolution. I must not forget to tell you, my younger daughter and your ward is hard at work about her tucker, having never from her infancy laid aside the modesty-piece. I am, venerable Nestor, your friend and servant, P. N. I was a little surprised, having read some of your lion's roarings, that a creature of such eloquence should want a tongue; but he has other qualifications which make good that deficiency.' No. 125.] Tuesday, August 4, 1713. -Nunc formosissimus annus. Virg. Ecl. iii. 57. MEN of my age receive a greater pleasure from fine weather than from any other sensual enjoyment of life. In spite of the auxiliary bottle, or any artificial heat, we are apt to droop under a gloomy sky; and taste no luxury like a blue firmament and sunshine. I have often, in a splenetic fit, wished myself a dormouse during the winter; and I never see one of those snug animals, wrapt up close in his fur, and compactly happy in himself, but I contemplate him with envy beneath the dignity of a philosopher. If the art of flying were brought to perfection, the use that I should make of it would be to attend the sun round the world, and pursue the spring through every sign of the zodiac. This love of warmth makes my heart glad at the return of the spring. How amazing is the change in the face of nature; when the earth, from being bound with frost, or covered with snow, begins to put forth her plants and flowers, to be clothed with green, diversified with ten thousand various dyes; and to exhale such fresh and charming odours, as fill every living creature with delight! I hope the reader will pardon me for taking his eye from our present subject of the spring, by this landscape, since it is at this time of the year only that prospects excel in beauty. But if the eye is delighted, the ear hath likewise its proper entertainment. The music of the birds at this time of the year, hath something in it so wildly sweet, as makes me less relish the most elaborate compositions of Italy. The vigour which the warmth of the sun pours afresh into their veins, prompts them to renew their species; and thereby puts the male upon wooing his mate with more mellow warblings, and to swell his throat with more violent modulations. It is an amusement by no means below the dig. nity of a rational soul, to observe the pretty creatures flying in pairs, to mark the different passions in their intrigues, the curious contexture of their nests, and their care and tenderness of their little offspring. I am particularly acquainted with a wagtail and his spouse, and made many remarks upon the several gallantries he hourly used, before the coy female would consent to make him happy. When I saw in how many airy rings he was forced to pursue her; how sometimes she tripped before him in a pretty pitty-pat step, and scarce seemed to regard the cowering of his wings, and the many awkward and foppish contortions into which he put his body to do her homage, it made me reflect upon my own youth, and the caprices of the fair but fantastic Teraminta. Often have I wished that I understood the language of birds, when I have heard him exert an eager chuckle at her leaving him; and do not doubt but that he muttered the same vows and reproaches which I often have vented against that unrelenting maid. The sight that gave me the most satisfaction was a flight of young birds, under the conduct of the father, and indulgent directions and assistance of the dam. I took particular notice of a beau goldfinch, who was picking his plumes, pruning his wings, and with great diligence, adjusting all his gaudy garniture. When he had equipped himself with great trimness and nice. ty, he stretched his painted neck, which seemed to brighten with new glowings, and strained his throat into many wild notes and natural melody. He then flew about the nest in several circles and windings, and invited his wife and children into open air. It was very entertain- | intellectual, as well as the natural and corpoing to see the trembling and the fluttering of the little strangers at their first appearance in the world, and the different care of the male and female parent, so suitable to their several sexes. I could not take my eye quickly from so entertaining an object; nor could I help wishing, that creatures of a superior rank would so manifest their mutual affection, and so cheerfully concur in providing for their offspring. I shall conclude this tattle about the spring, which I usually call the youth and health of the year,' with some verses which I transcribe from a manuscript poem upon hunting. The author gives directions, that hounds should breed in the spring, whence he takes occasion, after the manner of the ancients, to make a digression in praise of that season. The verses here subjoined, are not all upon that subject; but the transitions slide so easily into one another, that I knew not how to leave off until I had writ out the whole digression. real, we shall perceive throughout, a certain correspondence of the parts, a similitude of operation, and unity of design, which plainly demonstrate the universe to be the work of one infinitely good and wise being; and that the system of thinking beings is actuated by laws derived from the saine divine power which ordained those by which the corporeal system is upheld. From the contemplation of the order, motion, and cohesion of natural bodies, philosophers are now agreed, that there is a mutual attraction between the most distant parts at least of this solar system. All those bodies that revolve round the sun are drawn towards each other, and towards the sun, by some secret, uniform, and never-ceasing principle. Hence it is, that the earth (as well as the other planets) without flying off in a tangent line, constantly rolls about the sun, and the moon about the earth, without deserting her companion in so many thousand years. And as the larger systems of likewise the particular globes derive their cohesion and consistence from it. In spring let loose thy males. Then all things prove the universe are held together by this cause, so The stings of pleasure, and the pangs of love: Ethereal Jove then glads, with genial showers, Earth's mighty womb, and strews her lap with flow'rs; Hence juices mount, and buds, embolden'd, try More kindly breezes, and a softer sky; Kind Venus revels. Hark! on ev'ry bough, In lulling strains the feather'd warblers woo. Fell tigers soften in th' infectious flames, All nature smiles: Come now, nor fear, my love, Then wrath came down, and death had leave to reign: Bold Nimrod first the lion's trophies wore, Now if we carry our thoughts from the corporeal to the moral world, we may observe in the spirits or minds of men, a like principle of attraction, whereby they are drawn together in communities, clubs, families, friendships, and all the various species of society. As in bodies, where the quantity is the same, the attraction is strongest between those which are placed nearest to each other; so it is likewise in the minds of men, cæteris paribus, between those which are most nearly related. Bodies that are placed at the distance of many millions of miles, may nevertheless attract and constantly operate on each other, although this action do not show itself by a union or approach of those distant bodies so long as they are withheld by the contrary forces of other bodies, which, at the same time, attract them different ways; bat would, on the supposed removal of all other bodies, mutually approach and unite with each other. The like holds with regard to the human soul, whose affection towards the indivi. duals of the same species, who are distantly related to it, is rendered inconspicuous by its more powerful attraction towards those who have a nearer relation to it. But as those are removed, the tendency which before lay concealed, doth gradually disclose itself. A man who has no family is more strongly attracted towards his friends and neighbours; and if absent from these, he naturally falls into an acquaintance with those of his own city or country who chance to be in the same place. Two Englishmen meeting at Rome or Constantinople, soon run into a familiarity. And in China or Japan, Europeans would think their being so, a good reason for their uniting in par ticular converse. Farther, in case we suppose ourselves translated into Jupiter or Saturn, and I am a man, and have a fellow-feeling of every thing there to meet a Chinese, or other more distant belonging to man. If we consider the whole scope of the creation that lies within our view, the moral and native of our own planet, we should look on him as a near relation, and readily commence a friendship with him. These are natural reflections, and such as may convince us that we are linked by an imperceptible chain to every indi- | vate interest. Another observation I shall draw vidual of the human race. The several great bodies which compose the solar system are kept from joining together at the common centre of gravity by the rectilinear motions the author of nature has impressed on each of them; which, concurring with the attractive principle, form their respective orbits round the sun; upon the ceasing of which motions, the general law of gravitation that is now thwarted, would show itself by drawing them all into one mass. After the same manner, in the parallel case of society, private passions and motions of the soul do often obstruct the operation of that benevolent, uniting instinct implanted in human nature; which notwithstanding doth still exert, and will not fail to show itself when those obstructions are taken away. The mutual gravitation of bodies cannot be explained any other way than by resolving it into the immediate operation of God, who never ceases to dispose and actuate his creatures in a manner suitable to their respective beings. So neither can that reciprocal attraction in the minds of men be accounted for by any other cause. It is not the result of education, law, or fashion; but is a principle originally ingrafted in the very first formation of the soul by the author of our nature. And as the attractive power in bodies is the most universal principle which produceth innumerable effects, and is a key to explain the various phænomena of nature; so the corresponding social appetite in human souls is the great spring and source of moral actions. This it is that inclines each individual to an intercourse with his species, and models every one to that behaviour which best suits with the common well-being. Hence that sympathy in our nature, whereby we feel the pains and joys of our fellow-creatures. Hence that prevalent love in parents towards their children, which is neither founded on the merit of the object, nor yet on self-interest. It is this that makes us inquisitive concerning the affairs of distant nations, which can have no influence on our own. It is this that extends our care to future generations, and excites us to acts of beneficence towards those who are not yet in being, and consequently from whom we can expect no recompense. In a word, hence arises that dif fusive sense of humanity so unaccountable to the selfish man who is untouched with it, and is indeed a sort of monster, or anomalous production. from the premises is, that it makes a signal proof of the divinity of the Christian religion, that the main duty which it inculcates above all others is charity. Different maxims and precepts have distinguished the different sects of philosophy and religion; our Lord's peculiar precept is, 'Love thy neighbour as thyself. By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.' I will not say, that what is a most shining proof of our religion, is not often a reproach to its professors: but this I think very plain, that whether we regard the analogy of nature, as it appears in the mutual attraction or gravitations of the mundane system, in the general frame and constitution of the human soul; or lastly, in the ends and aptnesses which are discoverable in all parts of the visible and intellectual world; we shall not doubt but the precept, which is the characteristic of our religion, came from the author of nature. Some of our mo dern free-thinkers would indeed insinuate the Christian morals to be defective, because, say they, there is no mention made in the gospel of the virtue of friendship. These sagacious men (if I may be allowed the use of that vulgar saying) cannot see the wood for trees.' That a religion, whereof the main drift is to inspire its professors with the most noble and disinterested spirit of love, charity, and beneficence, to all mankind; or, in other words, with a friendship to every individual man; should be taxed with the want of that very virtue, is surely a glaring, evidence of the blindness and prejudice of its adversaries. AN agreeable young gentleman, that has a talent for poetry, and does me the favour to entertain me with his performances after my more serious studies, read me yesterday the following translation. In this town, where there are so many women of prostituted charms, I am very glad when I gain so much time of reflection from a youth of a gay turn, as is taken up in any composition, though the piece he writes is not foreign to that of his natural inclination. For it is a great step towards gaining upon the passions, that there is a delicacy in the choice of their object; and to turn the imaginations These thoughts do naturally suggest the fol- towards a bride, rather than a mistress, is getlowing particulars. First, that as social incli- ting a great way towards being in the interests nations are absolutely necessary to the well- of virtue. It is a hopeless manner of reclaimbeing of the world, it is the duty and interesting youth, which has been practised by some of each individual to cherish, and improve them to the benefit of mankind; the duty, because it is agreeable to the intention of the author of our being, who aims at the common good of his creatures, and as an indication of his will, hath implanted the seeds of mutual benevolence in our souls; the interest, because the good of the whole is inseparable from that of the parts; in promoting, therefore, the common good, every one doth at the same time promote his own pri moralists, to declaim against pleasure in general. No; the way is, to show that the pleasurable course is that which is limited and governed by reason. In this case, virtue is upon equal terms with vice, and has, with all the same indulgences of desire, the advantage of safety in honour and reputation. I have, for this reason, often thought of exercising my pupils, of whom I have several of admirable talents, upon writing little poems, or epigrams, which in a volume I would entitle, The Seeing Cupid. These compositions should be written on the little advances made towards a young lady of the strictest virtue, and all the circumstances alluded to in them, should have something that might please her mind in its purest innocence, as well as celebrate her person in its highest beauty. This work would instruct a woman to be a good wife, all the while it is a wooing her to be a bride. Imagination and reason should go hand in hand in a generous amour; for when it is otherwise, real discontent and aversion in marriage, succeed the groundless and wild promise of imagination in courtship. The Court of Venus from Claudian, being part On bounteous Nile, thro' seven wide channels spread; The mountain, when the summit once you gain, These were the bribes, the price of heavenly charms; A sylvan scene, in solemn state displayed, Along the grassy banks, in bright array, And sudden storms of wrath, which soon decline Now from afar the palace seems to blaze, Here spices in parterres promiscuous blow, Not from Arabia's fields more odours flow, The wanton winds through groves of cassia play, And steal the ripened fragrances away; Here with its load the wild amomum bends; There cinnamon, in rival sweets, contends; A rich perfume the ravished senses fills, While from the weeping tree the balm distils. At these delightful bowers arrives at last The god of love, a tedious journey past; Then shapes his way to reach the fronting gate, Doubles his majesty, and walks in state. It chanced, upon a radiant throne reclined, Venus her golden tresses did unbind: Proud to be thus employed, on either hand Th' Idalian sisters, ranged in order stand. Ambrosial essence one bestows in showers. And lavishly whole streams of nectar pours; With ivory combs another's dexterous care Or curls, or opens the dishevelled hair; A third, industrious with a nicer eye, Instructs the ringlets in what form to lie. Yet leaves some few, that, not so closely prest, Sport in the wind, and wanton from the rest: Sweet negligence! by artful study wrought, A graceful error, and a lovely fault, The judgment of the glass is here unknown; Here mirrors are supplied by every stone. Where'er the goddess turns, her image falls, And a new Venus dauces on the walls. Now while she did her spotless form survey, Pleased with Love's empire, and almighty sway, She spied her son, and, fired with eager joy, Sprung forwards, and embraced the fav'rite boy. It is usually thought, with great justice, a very impertinent thing in a private man to intermeddle in matters which regard the state. But the memorial which is mentioned in the following letter is so daring, and so apparently designed for the most traitorous purpose imagina ble, that I do not care what misinterpretation I suffer, when I expose it to the resentment of all men who value their country, or have any regard to the honour, safety, or glory of their queen. It is certain there is not much danger in delaying the demolition of Dunkirk during the life of his present most Christian majesty, who is renowned for the most inviolable regard No. 128.] THE GUARDIAN. to treaties; but that pious prince is aged, and in case of his decease, now the power of France and Spain is in the same family, it is possible an ambitious successor (or his ministry in a king's minority) might dispute his being bound by the act of his predecessor in so weighty a particular. MR. IRONSIDE,-You employ your important moments, methinks, a little too frivolously, when you consider so often little circumstances of dress and behaviour, and never make mention of matters wherein you and all your fellowsubjects in general are concerned. I give you now an opportunity, not only of manifesting your loyalty to your queen, but your affection to your country, if you treat an insolence done to them both with the disdain it deserves. The inclosed printed paper in French and English has been handed about the town, and given gratis to passengers in the streets at noon-day. You "A most humble address, see the title of it is, or memorial, presented to her majesty the queen of Great Britain, by the deputy of the magis. trates of Dunkirk." The nauseous memorialist, with the most fulsome flattery, tells the queen of her thunder, and of wisdom and clemency adored by all the earth; at the same time that he attempts to undermine her power, and escape her wisdom, by beseeching her to do an act which will give a well-grounded jealousy to her people. What the sycophant desires is, That the mole and dikes of Dunkirk may be spared; and it seems the sieur Tugghe, for so the petitioner is called, was thunderstruck by the de"the lord viscount nunciation (which he says) Bolingbroke made to him." That her majesty did not think to make any alteration in the dreadful sentence she had pronounced against Mr. Ironside, I think you would do an act worthy your general humanity, if you would put the sieur Tugghe right in this matter; and let him know, That her majesty has pronounced no sentence against the town, but his most Christian majesty has agreed that the town and harbour shall be demolished. the town. That the British nation expect the immediate demolition of it. That the very common people know, that within three months after the signing of the peace, the works towards the sea, were to be demolished; and, within three months after it, the works towards the land. That the said peace was signed the last of March, O. S. That the parliament has been told from the queen, that the equivalent for it is in the hands of the French king. That the sieur Tugghe has the impudence to ask the queen to remit the most material part of the articles of peace between her majesty and his master. That the British nation received more damage in their trade from the port of Dunkirk, than from almost all the ports of France, either in the ocean, or in the Mediterranean. That fleets of above thirty sail have come together out of Dunkirk, during the late war, and taken ships of war as well as merchantmen. That the pretender sailed from thence to Scotland; and that it is the only port the French have until you come to Brest, for the whole length of St. George's channel, where any considerable naval armament can be made. 'That destroying the fortifications of Dunkirk is an inconsiderable advantage to England, in comparison to the advantage of destroying the mole, dikes, and harbour; it being the naval force from thence which only can hurt the British nation. That the British nation expect the immediate demolition of Dunkirk. 'That the Dutch, who suffered equally with us from those of Dunkirk, were probably induced to sign the treaty with France from this consideration, That the town and harbour of Dunkirk should be destroyed. That the situation of Dunkirk is such, as that it may always keep runners to observe all ships sailing on the Thames and Medway. That all the suggestions which the sieur Tugghe brings concerning the Dutch, are false and scandalous. That whether it may be advantageous to the trade of Holland or not, that Dunkirk should be demolished; it is necessary for the safety, honour, and liberty of England, that it should be so. That when Dunkirk is demolished, the pow er of France, on that side, should it ever be turned against us, will be removed several hundred miles further off of Great Britain than it is at present. That after the demolition, there can be no considerable preparation made at sea by the French on all the channel, but at Brest; and that Great Britain being an island, which cannot be attacked but by a naval power, we may esteem France effectually removed, by the demolition, from Great Britain, as far as the distance from Dunkirk to Brest. Pray, Mr. Ironside, repeat this last particular, and put it in a different letter, That the demolition of Dunkirk will remove France many hundred miles farther off from us; and then repeat again, That the British nation expects the demolition of Dunkirk. 'I demand of you, as you love and honour your queen and country, that you insert this letter, or speak to this purpose, your own way; for in this all parties must agree, that however bound in friendship one nation is with another, it is but prudent that in case of a rupture, they should be, if possible, upon equal terms. 'Be honest, old Nestor, and say all this; for whatever half-witted hot whigs may think, we all value our estates and liberties, and every true man of each party must think himself concerned that Dunkirk should be demolished. It lies upon all who have the honour to be in the ministry to hasten this matter, and not let the credulity of an honest, brave people be thus infamously abused in our open streets. 'I cannot go on for indignation; but pray God that our mercy to France may not expose us to the mercy of France. Your humble servant, 15* ENGLISH TORY.' |