Land's End. We were very well pleased with one another the first day; every one endea vouring to recommend himself by his good humour and complaisance to the rest of the company. This good correspondence did not last long; one of our party was soured the very first evening by a plate of butter which had not been melted to his mind, and which spoiled his temper to such a degree, that he continued upon the fret to the end of our journey. A second fell off from his good humour the next morning, for no other reason, that I could imagine, but because I chanced to step into the coach before him, and place myself on the shady side. This however, was but my own private guess; for he did not mention a word of it, nor indeed of any thing else, for three days following. The rest of our company held out very near half the way, when, on a sudden, Mr. Sprightly fell asleep; and instead of endeavouring to divert and oblige us, as he had hitherto done, carried himself with an unconcerned, careless, drowzy behaviour, until we came to our last stage. There were three of us who still held up our heads, and did all we could to make our journey agreeable; but, to my shame be it spoken, about three miles on this side Exeter, I was taken with an unaccountable fit of sullenness, that hung upon me for above threescore miles; whether it were for want of respect, or from an accidental tread upon my foot, or from a foolish maid's calling mie 'The old gentleman,' I cannot tell. In short, there was but one who kept his good humour to the Land's End. There was another coach that went along with us, in which I likewise observed that there were many secret jealousies, heart-burnings and animosities: for when we joined companies at night, I could not but take notice, that the passengers neglected their own company, and studied how to make themselves esteemed by us, who were altogether strangers to them; until at length they grew so well acquainted with us, that they liked us as little as they did one another. When I reflect upon this journey, I often fancy it to be a picture of human life, in respect to the several friendships, contracts, and alliances, that are made and dissolved in the several periods of it. The most delightful and most lasting engagements are generally those which pass between man and woman; and yet upon what trifles are they weakened, or entirely broken! Sometimes the parties fly asunder even in the midst of courtship, and sometimes grow cool in the very honeymonth. Some separate before the first child, and some after the fifth; others continue good until thirty, others until forty; while some few, whose souls are of a happier make, and better fitted to one another, travel on together to the end of their journey in a continual intercourse of kind offices, and mutual endearments. When we therefore choose our companions for life, if we hope to keep both them and ourselves in good humour to the last stage of it, we must be extremely careful in the choice we make, as well as in the conduct on our own part. When the persons to whom we join ourselves can stand an examination, and bear the scrutiny; when they mend upon our acquaintance with them, and discover new beauties, the more we search into their characters; our love will naturally rise in proportion to their perfections. But because there are very few possessed of such accomplishments of body and mind, we ought to look after those qualifications both in ourselves and others, which are indispensably necessary towards this happy union, and which are in the power of every one to acquire, or at least to cultivate and improve. These, in my opinion, are cheerfulness and constancy. A cheerful temper, joined with inuocence, will make beauty attractive, knowledge delightful, and wit good-natured. It will lighten sickness, poverty, and affliction; convert ignorance into an amiable simplicity; and render deformity itself agreeable. Constancy is natural to persons of even tempers and uniform dispositions; and may be acquired by those of the greatest fickleness, violence, and passion, who consider seriously the terms of union upon which they come together, the mutual interest in which they are engaged, with all the motives that ought to incite their tenderness and compassion towards those who have their dependance upon them, and are embarked with them for life in the same state of happiness or misery. Constancy, when it grows in the mind, upon considerations of this nature, becomes a moral virtue, and a kind of good-nature, that is not subject to any change of health, age, fortune, or any of those accidents, which are apt to unsettle the best dispositions that are founded rather in constitution than in reason. Where such a constancy as this is wanting, the most inflamed passion may fall away into coldness and indifference, and the most melting tenderness degenerate into hatred and aversion. I shall conclude this paper with a story that is very well known in the north of England. About thirty years ago, a packet-boat that had several passengers on board was cast away upon a rock, and in so great danger of sinking, that all who were in it endeavoured to save themselves as well as they could; though only those who could swim well had a bare possibility of doing it. Among the passengers there were two women of fashion, who, seeing themselves in such a disconsolate condition, begged of their husbands not to leave them. One of them chose rather to die with his wife than to forsake her; the other, though he was moved with the utmost compassion for his wife, told her, that for the good of their children, it was better one of them should live, than both perish. By a great piece of good luck, next to a miracle, when one of our good men had taken the last and long farewell in order to save himself, and the other held in his arms the person that was dearer to him than life, the ship was preserved. It is with a secret sorrow and vexation of mind that I must tell the sequel of the story, and let my reader know, that this faithful pair who were ready to have died in each other's arms, about three years after their escape, upon some trifling disgust, grew to a coldness at first, and at length fell out to such a degree, that they left one another, and parted for ever. The other couple lived together in an uninterrupted friendship and felicity; and, what was remarkable, the husband, whom the shipwreck had like to have separated from his wife, died a few months after her, not being able to survive the loss of ber. I HAVE of late received many epistles, wherein the writers treat me as a mercenary person, for some little hints concerning matters which, they think, I should not have touched upon but for sordid considerations. It is apparent, that my motive could not be of that kind; for when a man declares himself openly on one side, that party will take no more notice of him, because he is sure; and the set of men whom he declares against, for the same reason, are violent against him. Thus it is folly in a plain-dealer to expect, that either his friends will reward him, or his enemies forgive him. For which reason, I thought it was the shortest way to impartiality, to put myself beyond further hopes or fears, by declaring myself at a time when the dispute is not about persons and parties, but things and causes. To relieve 6 myself from the vexation which naturally attends such reflections, I came hither this evening to give my thoughts quite a new turn, and converse with men of pleasure and wit, rather than those of business and intrigue. I had hardly entered the room when I was accosted by Mr. Thomas Dogget, who desired my favour in relation to the play which was to be acted for his benefit on Thursday. He pleased me in saying it was The Old Bachelor,' in which comedy there is a necessary circumstance observed by the author, which most other poets either overlook or do not understand, that is to say, the distinction of characters. It is very ordinary with writers to indulge a certain modesty of believing all men as witty as themselves, and making all the persons of the play speak the sentiments of the author, without any manner of respect to the age, fortune, or quality, of him that is on the stage. Ladies talk like rakes, and footmen make similes : but this writer knows men; which makes his plays reasonable entertainments, while the scenes of most others are like the tunes between the acts. They are perhaps agreeable sounds; but they have no ideas affixed to them Dogget thanked me for my visit to him in the winter; and, after his comic manner, spoke his request with so arch a leer, that I promised the droll I would speak to all my acquaintance to be at his play. Whatever the world may think of the actors, whether it be that their parts have an effect on their lives, or whatever it is, you see a wonderful benevolence among them towards the interests and necessities of each other. Dogget therefore would not let me go, without delivering me a letter from poor old Downs the prompter, wherein that retainer to the theatre desires my advice and assistance in a matter of concern to him. I have sent him my private opinion for his conduct; but the stage and state affairs being so much canvassed by parties and factions, I shall for some time hereafter take leave of subjects which relate to either of them; and employ my cares in the consideration of matters, which regard that part of mankind who live without interesting themselves with the troubles or pleasures of either. However, for a mere notion of the present posture of the stage, I shall give you the letter at large, as follows: Finding by divers of your late papers, that you are a friend to the profession of which was many years an unworthy member, I the rather make bold to crave your advice touching a proposal that has been lately made me of coming again into business, and the sub-administration of stage affairs. I have, from my youth, been bred up behind the curtain, and been a prompter from the time of the Restora # have no one for the General but honest George Powell. 'Now, sir, they being so much at a loss for the Dramatis Persona; viz. the persons to enact, and the whole frame of the house being designed to be altered, I desire your opinion, whether you think it advisable for me to undertake to prompt them? For though I can clash swords when they represent a battle, and have yet lungs enough left to buzza their victories, I question, if I should prompt them right, whether they would act accordingly. J. DOWNS. 'P. S. Sir, since I writ this, I am credibly informed, that they design a new house in Lincoln's-in-fields, near the popish chapel, to be ready by Michaelmas next; which indeed is but repairing an old one that has already failed. You know, the honest man who kept the office gone already.' is Militat omnis amans. Ovid. Amor. El. ix. ver. 1. tion. I have seen many changes, as well of scenes as of actors; and have known men within my remembrance arrive to the highest diguities of the theatre, who made their entrance in the quality of mutes, joint-stools, flower-pots, and tapestry hangings. It cannot be unknown to the nobility and gentry, that a gentleman of the inns of court, and a deep intriguer, had some time since worked himself into the sole management and direction of the theatre. Nor is it less notorious, that his restless ambition, and subtle machinations, did manifestly tend to the extirpation of the good I am your honour's most humble servant, old British actors, and the introduction of foreign pretenders; such as Harlequins, French dancers, and Roman singers; who, though they impoverished the proprietors, and imposed on the audience, were for some time tolerated, by reason of his dexterous insinuations, which prevailed upon a few deluded women, especially the Vizard Masks, to believe that the stage was in danger. But his schemes were soon exposed; and the great ones that supported him withdrawing their favour, he made his exit, and No. 194.] Thursday, July 6, 1710 remained for a season in obscurity. During this retreat the Machiavilian was not idle; but secretly fomented divisions, and wrought over to his side some of the inferior actors, reserving a trap-door to himself, to which only he had a key. This entrance secured, this cunning person, to complete his company, bethought himself of calling in the most eminent strollers from all parts of the kingdom. I have seen them all ranged together behind the scenes; but they are many of them persons that never trod the stage before, and so very awkward and ungainly, that it is impossible to believe the audience will bear them. He was looking over his catalogue of plays, and indeed picked up a good tolerable set of grave faces for counsellors, to appear in the famous scene of "Venice Preserved," when the danger is over; but they being but mere outsides, and the actors having a great mind to play "The Tempest," there is not a man of them, when he is to perform any thing above dumb show, is capable of acting with a good grace so much as the part of Trincalo. However, the master persists in his design, and is fitting up the cld storm; but I am afraid he will not be able to procure able sailors or experienced officers for love or money. 'Besides all this, when he comes to cast the parts, there is so great a confusion amongst them for want of proper actors, that for my part, I am wholly discouraged. The play with which they design to open is, "The Duke and no Duke;" and they are so put to it, that the The toils of love require a warrior's art, From my own Apartment, July 5. I WAS this morning reading the tenth canto in the fourth book of Spenser, in which sir Scudamore relates the progress of his courtship to Amoret under a very beautiful allegory, which is one of the most natural and unmixed of any in that most excellent author. I shall transprose it, to use Mr. Bayes's term, for the benefit of many English lovers, who have, by frequent letters, desired me to lay down some rules for the conduct of their virtuous amours; and shall only premise, that by the Shield of Love is meant a generous, constant passion for the person beloved. 6 'When the fame,' says he, 'of this celebrated beauty first flew abroad, I went in pursuit of her to the Temple of Love. This temple,' continues he, bore the name of the goddess Venus, and was seated in a most fruitful island, walled by nature against all invaders. There was a single bridge that led into the island, and before it a castle garrisoned by twenty knights. Near the castle was an open plain, and in the midst of it a pillar, on which was hung the Shield of Love; and underneath it, in letters of gold, was this inscription : Happy the man who well can use his bliss ; 'My heart panted upon reading the inscrip master himself is to act the Conjurer, and they tion: I struck upon the shield with my spear. It is well known that the mask, which conferred a certain degree of invisibility, concealed many immoralities, was long worn by women of intrigue and pleasure. Immediately issued forth a knight well mounted, and completely armed, who, without speaking, ran fiercely at me. 1 received him as well as turned aside his face, as not able to endure the sight of his younger brother. 'I at length entered the inmost temple, the roof of which was raised upon a hundred marble pillars, decked with crowns, chains, and garlands. The ground was strewed with flowers. A hundred altars, at each of which stood a virgin-priestess clothed in white, blazed all at once with the sacrifice of lovers, who were perpetually sending up their vows to heaven in clouds of incense. 'In the midst stood the goddess herself upon an altar whose substance was neither gold nor stone, but infinitely more precious than either. About her neck flew numberless flocks of little Loves, Joys, and Graces; and all about her altar lay scattered heaps of lovers, com of their mistresses. One among the rest, no longer able to contain his griefs, broke out into the following prayer: I could, and by good fortune threw him out of the saddle. I encountered the whole twenty successively, and leaving them all extended on the plain, carried off the shield in token of victory. Having thus vanquished my rivals, I passed on without impediment, until I came to the utmost gate of the bridge, which I found locked and barred. I knocked and called; but could get no answer. At last I saw one on the other side of the gate, who stood peeping through a small crevice. This was the porter; he had a double face resembling a Janus, and was continually looking about him, as if he mistrusted some sudden danger. His name, as I afterwards learned, was Doubt. Overagainst him sat Delay, who entertained passengers with some idle story, while they lost such opportunities as were never to be re-plaining of the disdain, pride, or treachery covered. As soon as the porter saw my shield, he opened the gate; but, upon my entering, Delay caught hold of me, and would fain have made me listen to her fooleries. However, I shook her off, and passed forward until I came to the second gate, "The Gate of Good Desert," which always stood wide open, but in the porch was a hideous giant, that stopped the entrance; his name was Danger. Many warriors of good reputation, not able to bear the sternness of his look, went back again. Cowards fled at the first sight of him; except some few, who, watching their opportunity, slipt by him unobserved. I prepared to assault him; but, upon the first sight of my shield, he immediately gave way. Looking back upon him, 1 found his hinder parts much more deformed and terrible than his face; Hatred, Murder, Treason, Envy, and Detraction, lying in ambush behind him, to fall upon the heedless and unwary. "Venus, queen of grace and beauty, joy of gods and men, who, with a smile becalmest the seas, and renewest all nature; goddess, whom all the different species in the universe obey with joy and pleasure, grant I may at last obtain the object of my vows." 'The impatient lover pronounced this with great vehemence; but I, in a soft murmur, besought the goddess to lend me her assist ance. While I was thus praying, I chanced to cast my eye on a company of ladies, who were assembled together in a corner of the temple, waiting for the anthem. 6 The foremost seemed something elder and of a more composed countenance than the rest who all appeared to be under her direction. Her name was Womanhood. On one side of her sat Shamefacedness, with blushes rising in her cheeks, and her eyes fixed on the ground: on the other was Cheerfulness, with a smiling 'I now entered the "Island of Love," which appeared in all the beauties of art and nature, and feasted every sense with the most agree-look, that infused a secret pleasure into the able objects. Amidst a pleasing variety of walks and alleys, shady seats and flowery banks, sunny hills and gloomy valleys, were thousands of lovers sitting, or walking together in pairs, and singing hymns to the deity of the place. hearts of all that saw her. With these sat Thus sat they all around in seemly rate, As soon as I beheld the charming Amoret, my heart throbbed with hopes. I stepped to her, and seized her hand; when Womanhood immediately rising up, sharply rebuked me for offering in so rude a manner to lay hold on a virgin. I excused myself as modestly as could, and at the same time displayed my shield: upon which, as soon as she beheld the god emblazoned with his bow and shafts, she was struck mute, and instantly retired. 'I still held fast the fair Amoret; and, turnng my eyes towards the goddess of the place, saw that she favoured my pretensions with a smile, which so emboldened me, that I carried off my prize. "The maid, sometimes with tears, sometimes with smiles, entreated me to let her go: but I led her through the temple-gate, where the goddess Concord, who had favoured my entrance, befriended my retreat.' This allegory is so natural, that it explains itself. The persons in it are very artfully described, and disposed in proper places. The posts assigned to Doubt, Delay, and Danger, are admirable. The gate of Good Desert bas something noble and instructive in it. But above all, I am most pleased with the beautiful groupe of figures in the corner of the temple. Among these Womanhood is drawn like what the philosophers call a Universal Nature, and is attended with beautiful representatives of all those virtues that are the ornaments of the female sex, considered in its natural perfection and innocence. 'SIR, 'I am afraid there is something in the suspicions of some people, that you begin to be short of matter for your lucubrations. Though several of them now and then did appear somewhat dull and insipid to me, I was always charitably inclined to believe the fault lay in myself, and that I wanted the true key to decypher your mysteries; and remember your advertisement upon this account. But since I have seen you fall into an unpardonable error, yea, with a relapse; I mean, since I have seen you turn politician in the present unhappy dissensions, I have begun to stagger, and could not choose but lessen the great value I had for the How is it possible that a Censor of our isle. man, whom interest did naturally lead to a constant impartiality in these matters, and who hath wit enough to judge that his opinion was not like to make many proselytes; how is it possible, I say, that a little passion, for I have still too good an opinion of you to think you was bribed by the staggering party, could blind you so far as to offend the very better half of the nation, and to lessen off so much the number of your friends? Mr. Morphew will not have cause to thank you, unless you give over, and endeavour to regain what you have lost. There are still a great many themes you have left untouched: such as the illmanagement of matters relating to law and physic; the setting down rules for knowing the quacks in both professions. What a large field THE learned world are very much offended is left in discovering the abuses of the college, at many of my ratiocinations, and have but a who had a charter and privileges granted them very mean opinion of me as a politician. The to hinder the creeping in and prevailing of reason of this is, that some erroneously con- quacks and pretenders; and yet grant licences ceive a talent for politics to consist in the to barbers, and write letters of recommendaregard to a man's own interest; but I am of tion in the country towns, out of the reach of quite another mind, and think the first and their practice, in favour of mere boys; valuing essential quality towards being a statesman is the health and lives of their countrymen no to have a public spirit. One of the gentlemen farther than they get money by them. who are out of humour with me imputes my have said very little or nothing about the disfalling into a way wherein I am so very awk-pensation of justice in town and country, where ward, to a barrenness of invention; and has the charity to lay new matter before me for the future. He is at the bottom my friend; but is at a loss to know whether I am a fool or a physician, and is pleased to expostulate with me with relation to the latter. He falls heavy upon licentiates, and seems to point more particularly at us who are not regularly of the faculty. But since he has been so civil to me, as to meddle only with those who are 'employed no further than about men's lives, and not reflected upon me as of the astrological sect, who concern ourselves about lives and fortunes also, I am not so much hurt as to stifle any part of his fond letter.* No. 195.] Saturday, July 8, 1710. Grecian Coffee-house, July 7. clerks are the counsellors to their masters. You But as I cannot expect that the Censor of Great Britain should publish a letter, wherein he is censured with too much reason himself; yet I hope you will be the better for it, and think upon the themes I have mentioned, which must certainly be of greater service to the world, yourself, and Mr. Morphew, than to let us know whether you are a Wbig or a Tory. I am still your admirer and servant, 'CATO JUNIOR.' This gentleman and I differ about the words staggering and better part; but, instead of answering to the particulars of this epistle, I shall only acquaint my correspondent, that I am at present forming my thoughts upon the foundation of sir Scudamore's progress in yet some hopes of reclaiming Steele, that is, of prevailing Spenser, which has led me from all other Written probably by Prior or Swift, while they had upon him to desert the whig-party, as they themselves had just done. amusements, to consider the State of Love in |