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N° 410. FRIDAY, JUNE 20, 1712.

-Dum foris sunt, nihil videtur mundius,
Nec magis compositum quidquam, nec magis elegans :
Quæ, cum amatore suo cùm cænant, liguriunt.
Harum videre ingluviem, sordes, inopiam :
Quàm inhonestæ sole sint domi, atque aridæ cibi,
Quo pucto ex jure hesterno punem atrum vorent :
Nosse omnia hæc, salus est adolescentulis.

TER. Eun, Act. v. Sc. 4. When they are abroad, nothing so clean and nicely

dressed; and when at supper with a gallant, they do but piddle, and pick the choicest bits : but to see their nastiness and poverty at home, their gluttony, and how they devons black crusts dipped in yesterday's broth, is a perfect antidote against wenching.

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WILL HONEYCOMB, who disguises his present decay by visiting the wenches of the town only by way of humour, told us, that the last rainy night he, with Sir Roger de Coverley, was driven into the Temple cloister, whither had escaped also a lady most exactly dressed from head to foot. Will made no scruple to acquaint us, that she saluted him very familiarly by his name, and turning immediately to the knight, she said, she supposed that was his good friend Sir Roger de Coverley: upon which nothing less could follow than Sir Roger's approach to salutation, with · Madam, the same, at your service.' She was dressed in a black tabby mantua and petticoat, without ribbons; her linen striped musJin, and in the whole in an agreeable second mourning; decent dresses being often affected by the creatures of the town, at once consulting cheapness and

the pretension to modesty. She went on with a familiar easy air, Your friend, Mr. Honeycomb, is a little surprised to see a woman here alone and unattended; but I dismissed my coach at the gate, and tripped it down to my counsel's chambers; for lawyers' fees take up too much of a small disputed jointure to admit any other expenses but mere necessaries. Mr. Honeycomb begged they might have the honour of setting her down, for Sir Roger's servant was gone to call

coach. In the interim the footman returned with no coach to be had ;' and there appeared nothing to be done but trusting herself with Mr. Honeycomb and his friend, to wait at the tavern at the gate for a coach, or be subjected to all the impertinence she must meet with in that public place. Mr. Honeycomb, being a man of honour, determined the choice of the first, and Sir Roger, as the better man, took the lady by the hand, lead. ing her through all the shower, covering her, with his hat, and gallanting a familiar acquaintance through rows of young fellows, who winked at Sukey in the state she marched off, Will Honeycomb bringing up the rear.

Much importunity prevailed upon the fair one to admit of a collation, where, after declaring she had no stomach, and having eaten a couple of chickens, devoured a truss of sallad, and drunk a full bottle to her share, she sung the Old Man's Wish to Sir Roger. The knight left the room for some time after supper, and writ the following billet, which he conveyed to Sukey, and Sukey to her friend Will Honeycomb. Will has given it to sir Andrew Freeport, who read it last night to the club. MADAM,

* I am not so mere a country gentleman, but I can guess at the law business you had at the Temple. If you would go down to the country, and

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leave off all your vanities but your singing, let me know at my lodgingsin Bow-street, Covent-garden, and you shall be encouraged by

• Your humble servant,

ROGER DE COVERLEY.'

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My good friend could not well stand the raillery which was rising upon him; but to put a stop to it, I delivered Will Honeycomb the following letter, and desired him to read it to the board.

MR. SPECTATOR,

· HAVING seen a translation of one of the chapters in the Canticles into English verse inserted among your

late
papers,

I have ventured to send you the viith chapter of the Proverbs in a poetical dress. If you think it worthy appearing among your speculations, it will be a sufficient reward for the trouble of

• Your constant reader,

A B.'

" My son, th' instruction that my words impart,'
Grave on the living tablet of thy heart:
And all the wholesome precepts that I give,
Observe with strictest reverence, and live.

“Let all thy homage be to Wisdom paid,
Seek her protection, and implore her aid ;
That she inay keep ihy soul from harm secure,
And turn thy footsteps from the harlot's door,
Who with curs'd charms lures the unwary in,
And sooths with flattery their souls to sin.

“ Once from my window, as I cast mine eye
On those that passed in giddy numbers by,
A youth among the foolish yquths I spyd,
Who took not sacred Wisdom for his guide.

“ Just as the sun withdrew his cooler light,
And evening soft led on the shades of vight,
He stole in covert twilight to his fate,
And pass'd the corner near the harlot's gate!

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When lo, a woman comes !
Loose her attire, and such her glariug dress,
As aptly did the harlot's mind express :
Subile she is, and practis'd in the arts
By which the wanton conquer heedless hearts :
Stubborn and loud she is ; she hates her home
Varying her place and form, she loves to roam :
Now she's within, now in the street doth stray,
Now at each corner stands, and waits her prey.
The youth she seiz'd ; and laying now aside
All modesty, the female's justest pride,
She said with an embrace, ' Here at my house
Peace-offerings are, this day I paid my vows.
I therefore came abroad to meet my dear,
And lo, in happy hour, I find thee here.
My chamber l've adorn'd, and o'er my bed
Are coverings of the richest tap’stry spread;
With lipen it is deck'd from Egypt brought,
And carvings by the curious artist wrought:
It wants no glad perfume Arabia yields
In all her citron groves and spicy fields ;
Here all ber store of richest odours meets,
I'll lay thee in a wilderness of sweets ;
Whatever to the sense can grateful be
I have collected there I want but thee.
My husband's gone a journey far away,
Much gold he took abroad, and long will stay,
He named for his return a distant day.'

“ Upon her tongue did much smooth mischief dwell,
And from her lips such welcome flatt'ry fell,
Th’unguarded youth, in silken fetters ty'd,
Resign'd his reason, and with ease comply'd.
Thus does the ox to his own slaughter go,
And thus is senseless of the impending blow;
Thus flies the simple bird into the snare,
That skilful fowlers for his life prepare.
But let my sons attend. Attend may they
Whom youthful vigour may to sin betray ;
Let them false charmers fly, and guard their hearts
Against the wily wanton's pleasing arts;
With care direct their steps, nor turn astray
To tread the paths of her deceitful way;
Lest they too late of her fell pow'r complain,
And fall, where many mightier have been slain.”

T.

N°411. SATURDAY, JUNE 21, 1712.

PAPER I.

ON THE PLEASURES OF THE
IMAGINATION.

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CONTENTS. The perfection of our sight above our other senses. The

pleasures of the imagination arise originally from sight. The pleasures of the imagination divided under two heads. The pleasures of the imagination in some respects equal to those of the understanding. The extent of the pleasures of the imagination. The advantages a man receives from a relish of these pleasures. In what respect they are preferable to those of the understanding.

Avia Pieridum peragro locu, nullius antè
Trita solo : juvut integros accedere fonteis,
Atque haurire

Lucr. i. 925.
In wild unclear'd, to Muses a retreat,
O'er ground untrod before, I devious roam,
And deep-enamour'd into latent springs

Presume to peep at coy virgin Naiads. Our sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our senses.

It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. The sense of feeling can indeed give us a notion of extension, shape, and all other ideas that'enter at the eye, except colours; but at the same time it is very much straitened, and confined in its operations to the number, bulk, and distance of its particular objects. Our sight seems designed to supply all these defects, and may be considered as a more delicate and diffusive kind of touch, that

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