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tarn; those who had taken this leap were observed wonder, that these two finished pieces have never never to relapse into that passion. Sappho tried been attempted before by any of our own countrythe cure, but perished in the experiment.
men. But the truth of it is, the compositions of the After having given this short account of Sappho, ancients, which bave not in them any of those un. so far as it regards the following ode, I shall sub- natural witticisms that are the delight of ordinary join the translation of it as it was sent me by a readers, are extremely difficult to render into anfriend whose admirable Pastorals and Winter-piece other tongue, so as the beauties of the original may have been already so well received. The reader not appear weak and faded in the translation.-C. will find in it that pathetic simplicity, which is so peculiar to him, and so suitable to the ode he has here translated. This ode in the Greek (besides
No. 224.] FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1711. those beauties observed by Madam Dacier) has se
-Fulgente trahit constrictos gloria curru veral harmonious turns in the words, which are not Nou minus ignotos generosis Hox. 1 Sat. vi. 22. lost in the English. I must further add, that the Chain'd to her shining car, Fame draws along translation has preserved every image and senti
With equal whirl the great and vulgar throng. ment of Sappho, notwithstanding it has all the ease If we look abroad upon the great multitude of and spirit of an original. In a word, if the ladies mankind, and endeavour to trace out the principles have a mind to know the manner of writing prac- of action in every individual, it will, I think, seem tised by the so much celebrated Sappho, they may highly probable, that ambition runs through the here see it in its genuine and natural beauty, with- whole species, and that every man, in proportion to out any foreign or affected ornaments,
the vigour of his complexion, is more or less ac
tuated by it. It is, indeed, no uncommon thing to A HYMN TO VENUS.
meet with men, who by the natural bent of their O VENDS, beauty of the skies,
inclinations, and without the discipline of philosophy, To whom a thousand temples rise, Gaily false in gentle smiles,
aspire not to the heights of power and grandeur; Full of love-perplexing wiles;
who never set their hearts upon a numerous train O goddess ! from my heart remove
of clients and dependencies, nor other gay appendThe wasting cares and pains of love.
ages of greatness; who are contented with a com. If ever thou hast kindly heard
peteucy, and will not molest their tranquillity to A song in soft distress preferr'd,
gain an abundance. But it is not therefore to be Propitious to my tuneful vow, O gentle goddess ! hear me now.
concluded that such a man is not ambitious; bis Descend, thou bright, immortal guest,
desires may have cut out another channel, and deIn all thy radiant charms confess d.
termined him to other pursuits ; the motive, how. Thou once didst leave almighty Jove,
ever, may be still the same; and in these cases And all the golden roofs above : The car thy wanton sparrows drew,
likewise the man may be equally pushed on with Hovering in air they lightly flew;
the desire of distinction. As to my bower they wing d their way,
Though the pure consciousness of worthy actions, I saw their quivering pinions play.
abstracted from the views of popular applause, be to The birds dismiss d (while you remain)
a generous mind an ample reward, yet the desire of Bore back their empty car again :
distinction was doubtless implanted in onr natures Then you with looks divinely mild, In every heavenly feature smil'd,
as an additional incentive to exert ourselves in virAnd ask'd what new complaints I made,
tuous excellence. And why I call d you to my aid ?
This passion, indeed, like all others, is frequently What frenzy in my bosom rag'd,
perverted to evil and ignoble purposes : so that we And by what cure to be assuag‘d ?
may account for many of the excellences and follies What gentle youth I would allure,
of life upon the same innate principle, to wit, the W'hom in my artful toils secure ? Who does thy tender heart subdue,
desire of being remarkable : for this, as it has been Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?
differently cultivated by education, study, and conThough now he shuns thy longing arns,
verse, will bring forth suitable effects as it falls in He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
with an ingenuous disposition, or a corrupt mind. Though now thy offerings he despise,
It does accordingly express itself in acts of magna.
dimity or selfish cunning, as it meets with a good And be thy victim in his turn.
or a weak understanding. As it has been employed Celestial visitant, once more
in embellishing the mind, or adorning the outside, Thy needful presence I implore!
it renders the man eminently praiseworthy or ridiIn pity come, and ease my grief,
culous. Ambition therefore is not to be confined Bring my distemper'd soul relief, Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
only to one passion or pursuit; for as the same buAnd give me all my heart desires.
mours in constitutions, otherwise different, affect
the body after different manners, so the same as Madam Dacier observes, there is something very piring principle within us sometimes breaks forth pretty in that circumstance of this ode, wherein upon one object, sometimes upon another. Venus is described as sending away her chariot upon It cannot be doubted, but that there is as great a her arrival at Sappho's lodgings, to denote that it desire of glory in a wring of wrestlers or cudgelwas not a short transient visit which she intended to players, as in any other more refined competition make her. This ode was preserved by an eminent for superiority. No man that could avoid it
, would Greek critic, who inserted it entire in his works, as ever suffer his head to be broken but out of a prina pattern of perfection in the structure of it. ciple of honour. This is the secret spring that
Longinus has quoted another ode of this great pushes them forward; and the superiority which poetess, which is likewise admirable in its kind, and they gain above the undistinguished many, does has been translated by the same hand with the fore- more than repair those wounds they have received
I shall oblige my reader with it in an in the combat. It is Mr. Waller's opinion, that other paper. In the meanwhile, I cannot but ! Julius Cæsar, had he not been master of the Roman
en pire, would, in all probability, have made an it renders the man who is overrun with it a peevish excellent wrestler:
and cruel master, a severe parent, an unsociable Great Julias, on the mountains bred,
husband, a distant and mistrustful friend. But it A flock perhaps or herd had led;
is more to the present purpose to consider it as an He that the world subdu'd, had been
absurd passion of the heart, rather than as a vicious But the best wrestler on the green.
affection of the mind. As there are frequent inThat he subdued the world, was owing to the acci- stances to be met with of a proud humility, so this dents of art and knowledge; had he not met with passion, contrary to most others, affects applause, those advantages, the same sparks of emulation by avoiding all show and appearance: for this reawould have kindled within him, and prompted him son it will not sometimes endure even the common to distinguish himself in some enterprise of a lower decencies of apparel. “A covetous man will call nature. Since therefore no man's lot is so unalter. himself poor, that you may sooth his vanity by conably fixed in this life, but that a thousand accidents tradicting him.” Love and the desire of glory, as inay either forward or disappoint his advancement, they are the most natural, so they are capable of it is, methinks, a pleasant and inoffensive specula- being refined into the most delicate and rational tion, to consider a great man as divested of all the passions. It is true, the wise man who strikes out adventitious circumstances of fortune, and to bring of the secret paths of a private life, for honour and him down in one's imagination to that low station dignity, allured by the splendour of a court, and of life, the nature of which bears some distant re- the unfelt weight of public employment, whether semblance to that high one he is at present possessed he succeeds in his attempts or no, usually comes of Thus one may view him exercising in minia- near enough to this painted greatness to discern tare those talents of nature, which being drawn out the daubing; he is then desirous of extricating by education to their full length, enable him for the himself out of the hurry of life, that he may pass discharge of some important employment. On the away the remainder of his days in tranquillity and other hand, one may raise uneducated merit to such retirement. a pitch of greatness, as may seem equal to the pos- It may be thought then but common prudence in sible extent of his improved capacity.
a man not to change a better state for a worse, nor Thus nature furnishes man with a general appe- ever to quit that which he knows he shall take up tite of glory, education determines it to this or that again with pleasure; and yet if human life be not a particular object. The desire of distinction is not, little moved with the gentle gales of hopes and I think, in any instance more observable than in fears, there may be some danger of its stagnating the variety of outsides and new appearances, which in an unmanly indolence and security. It is a the modish part of the world are obliged to provide, known story of Domitian, that after he had posin order to make themselves remarkable; for any sessed himself of the Roman empire, his desires thing glaring and particular, either in behaviour or turned upon catching flies. Active and masculine apparel, is known to have this good effect, that it spirits in the vigour of youth neither can por ought catches the eye, and will not suffer you to pass over to remain at rest. If they debar themselves from the person so adorned without due notice and ob- aiming at a noble object, their desires will move servation. It has likewise, upon this account, been downwards, and they will feel themselves actuated frequently resented as a very great slight, to leave by some low and abject passion. Thus, if you cut any gentleman out of a lampoon or satire, who has off the top branches of a tree, and will not suffer as much right to be there as his neighbour, because it to grow any higher, it will not therefore cease to it supposes the person not eminent enough to be grow, but will quickly shoot out at the bottom. The taken notice of. To this passionate fondness for man indeed who goes into the world only with the distinction are owing various frolicsome and irre-narrow views of self-interest, who catches at the gular practices, as sallying out into nocturnal ex- applause of an idle multitude, as he can find no ploits, breaking of windows, singing of catches, solid contentment at the end of his journey, so he beating the watch, getting drunk twice a day, kill- deserves to meet with disappointments in his way : ing a great number of horses; with many other en- but he who is actuated by a noble principle; whose terprises of the like fiery nature ; for certainly mind is so far enlarged as to take in the prospect many a man is more rakish and extravagant than of his country's good; who is enamoured with that he world willingly be, were there not others to look praise which is one of the fair attendants of virtue, on and give their approbation.
and values not those acclamations which are not One very common, and at the same time the most seconded by the impartial testimony of his own absurd ambition that ever showed itself in human mind; who repines not at the low station which nature, is that which comes upon a man with ex- Providence has at present allotted him, but yet perience and old age, the season when it might be would willingly advance himself by justifiable expected he should be wisest; and therefore it can means to a more rising and advantageous ground; not receive any of those lessening circumstances such a man is warmed with a generous emulation; which do, in some measure, excuse the disorderly it is a virtuous movement in him to wish and to enferments of youthful blood; I mean the passion for deavour that his power of doing good may be equal getting money, exclusive of the character of the to his will. provident father, the affectionate husband, or the The man who is fitted out by nature, and sent generous friend. It may be remarked, for the com- into the world with great abilities, is capable of dofort of honest poverty, that this desire reigos most ing great good or mischief in it. It ought therein those who have but few good qualities to recom-fore to be the care of education to infuse into the mend them. This is a weed that will grow in a untainted youth early notions of justice and honour, barren soil. Humanity, good-nature, and the ad- that so the possible advantages of good parts may vantages of a liberal education, are incompatible not take an evil turn, nor be perverted to base and with avarice. It is strange to see how suddenly unworthy purposes. It is the business of religion this abject passion kills all the noble sentiments and philosophy not so much to extinguish our pas. and generous ambitions that adorn human nature ;) sions, as to regulate and direct them to va.uable well-chosen objects. When these have pointed out learning is pedantry, and wit impertinence; virtue to us which course we may lawfully steer, it is no itself looks like weakness: the best parts only harm to set out all our sail; if the storms and qualify a man to be more sprightly in errors, and tempests of adversity should rise upon us, and not active to his own prejudice. suffer us to make the haven where we would be, it Nor does discretion only make a man the master will however prove no small consolation to us in of his own parts, but of other men's. The discreet these circumstances, that we have neither mistaken man finds out the talents of those he converses with, our course, nor fallen into calamities of our own and knows how to apply them to proper uses. Acprocuring.
cordingly, if we look into particular communities Religion therefore (were we to consider it no and divisions of men, we may observe that it is the further than as it interposes in the affairs of this discreet man, not the witty, nor the learned, nor life) is highly valuable, and worthy of great vene- the brave, who guides the conversation, and gives ration; as it settles the various pretensions, and measures to the society. A man with great talents, otherwise interfering interests of mortal men, and but void of discretion, is like Polyphemus in the thereby consults the harmony and order of the fable, strong and blind, endued with an irresistible great community; as it gives a man room to play force, which for want of sight is of no use to bim. his part and exert his abilities; as it animates to Though a man has all other perfections, and wants actions truly laudable in themselves, in their effects discretion, he will be of no great consequence in beneficial to society; as it inspires rational ambition, the world, but if he has this single talent in percorrect love, and elegant desire.-2.
fection, and but a common share of others, he may do what he pleases in his particular station of life.
At the same time that I think discretion the No. 225.] SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1711. most useful talent a man can be master of, I look
Nullum numen abest si sit prudentia.- Juv. Sat. x. 365. upon cunning to be the accomplishment of Little, Prudence supplies the want of every good.
mean, ungenerous minds. Discretion points out the
noblest ends to us, and pursues the most proper and I Have often though if the minds of men were laudable methods of attaining them. Cunning has laid open, we should see but little difference be only private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing tween that of the wise man, and that of the fool. which may make them succeed. Discretion has There are infinite reveries, numberless extrava- large and extended views, and like a well-formed gances, and a perpetual train of vanities which pass eye, commands a whole horizon. Cunning is a kind through both. The great difference is, that the first of short-sightedness, that discovers the minutest ob knows how to pick and cull his thoughts for conver-jects which are near at hand, but is not able to sation, by suppressing some, and communicating discern things at a distance. Discretion, the more others; whereas the other lets them all indifferently it is discovered, gives a greater authority to the fly out in words. This sort of discretion, however, person who possesses it. Cunning, when it is once hás no place in private conversation between inti- detected, loses its force, and makes a man incapable mate friends. On such occasions the wisest men of bringing about even those events which he might very often talk like the weakest; for indeed the have done, had he passed only for a plain man. talking with a friend is nothing else but thinking Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide aloud.
to us in all the duties of life: cunning is a kind of Tully has therefore very justly exposed a precept instinct, that only looks out after our immediate delivered by some ancient writers, that a man should interests and welfare. Discretion is only found in live with his enemy in such a manner, as might men of strong sense and good understandings: cunleave him room to become his friend; and with his ning is often to be met with in brutes themselves, friend in such a manner, that if he became his and in persons who are but the fewest removes from enemy, it should not be in his power to hurt him. them. In short, cunning is only the mimic of disThe first part of this rule, which regards our beha- cretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same viour towards an enemy, is indeed very reasonable, manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and as well as very prudential; but the latter part of it, gravity for wisdom. which regards our behaviour towards a friend, sa- The cast of mind which is natural to a discreet vours more of cunning than of discretion, and would man, makes him look forward into futurity, and cut a man off from the greatest pleasures of life, consider what will be his condition millions of ages which are the freedoms of conversation with a hence, as well as what it is at present. He knows bosom friend. Besides that, when a friend is turned that the misery or happiness which are reserved for into an enemy, and, as the son of Sirach calls him, him in another world, lose nothing of their reality “a bewrayer of secrets,” the world is just enough by being at so great distance from him. The objects to accuse the perfidiousness of the friend, rather do not appear little to him because they are remote. than the indiscretion of the person who confided He considers that those pleasures and pains which in him.
lie hid in eternity, approach nearer to him every Discretion does not only show itself in words, but moment, and will be present with him in their full in all the circumstances of action, and is like an weight and measure, as much as those pains and under-agent of Providence, to guide and direct us pleasures which he feels at this very instant. For in the ordinary concerns of life.
this reason he is careful to secure to himself that There are many more shining qualities in the which is the proper happiness of his nature, and mind of man, but there is none so useful as discre- the ultimate design of his being. He carries his tion; it is this indeed which gives a value to all the thoughts to the end of every action, and considers rest, which sets them at work in their proper times the most distant as well as the most immediate and places, and turns them to the advantage of the effects of it. He supersedes every little prospect of person who is possessed of them. Without it, gain and advantage which offers itself here, if he
does not find it consistent with his views of an hereEccles. vi. 9. xxvii. 17.
after. In a word, his hopes are full of immortalitys
bis schemes are large and glorious, and his conduct creature who has seen the cartouns in her majesty's suitable to one who knows his true interest, and how gallery at Hampton-court. These are representato pursue it by proper methods.
tions of no less actions than those of our blessed I have in this essay upon discretion, considered Saviour and his apostles. As I now sit and recol. it both as an accompushment and as a virtue, and lect the warm images which the admirable Raphael, kase therefore described it in its full extent; not has raised, it is impossible, even from the faint, only as it is conversant about worldly affairs, but as traces in one's memory of what one has not seen it regards our whole existence; not only as it is these two years, to be unmoved at the horror and, the guide of a mortal creature, but as it is in gene- reverence which appear in the whole assembly when ral the director of a reasonable being. It is in this the mercenary man fell down dead; at the amazelight that discretion is represented by the wise man, ment of the man born blind, when he first receives who sometimes mentions it under the name of dis- sight; or at the graceless indignation of the soreretion, and sometimes under that of wisdom. It cerer, when he is struck blind. The lame, when is indeed (as described in the latter part of this they first find strength in their feet, stand doubtful paper,) the greatest wisdoın, but at the same time of their new vigour. The heavenly apostles appear in the power of every one to attain. Its advantages acting these great things with a deep sense of the are infinite, but its acquisition easy; or to speak of infirmities which they relieve, but no value of themher in the words of the apochryphal writer whom I selves who administer to their weakness. They quoted in my last Saturday's paper, * "Wisdom is know themselves to be but instruments; and the glorious, and never fadeth away, yet she is easily generous distress they are painted in when divine seen of them that love her, and found of such as honours are offered to them, is a representation in seek her. She preventeth them that desire her, in the most exquisite degree of the beauty of holiness. making herself first known unto them. He that when St. Paul is preaching to the Athenians, with seeketh her early, shall have no great travel; for what wonderful art are almost all the different tem, he shall find her sitting at his doors. To think pers of mankind represented in that elegant audi. therefore upon her is the perfection of wisdom, and ence? You see one credulous of all that is said; whoso watcheth for her shall quickly be without another wrapped up in deep suspense; another care. For she goeth about seeking such as are saying, there is some reason in what he says; anworthy of her, showeth herself favourably unto other angry that the apostle destroys a favourite them in the ways, and meeteth them in every opinion which he is unwilling to give up; another thought."-C.
wholly convinced, and holding out his hands in rapture; while the generality attend, and wait for the
opinion of those who are of leading characters in No. 226.] MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1711.
the assembly. I will not pretend so much as to -Mutum est pictura poema
mention that chart on which is drawn the appearA picture is a poem without words.
ance of our blessed Lord after his resurrection.
Present authority, late sufferings, humility, and + I HAVE very often lamented, and hinted my sor- majesty, despotic command, and divine love, are at row in several speculations, that the art of painting once seated in his celestial aspect. The figures of is made so little use of to the improvement of our the eleven apostles are all in the same passion of manners. When we consider that it places the ac- admiration, but discover it differently according to tion of the person represented in the most agreeable their characters. Peter receives his master's orders aspect imaginable, that it does not only express the on his knees with an admiration mixed with a more passion or concern as it sits upon him who is drawn, particular attention : the two next with a more open but has under those features the height of the ecstasy, though still constrained by an awe of the painter's imagination, what strong images of virtue Divine presence. The beloved disciple, whom I and humanity might we not expect would be in- take to be the right of the two first figures, has in stilled into the mind from the labours of the pen. his countenance wonder drowned in love: and the cil? This is a poetry which would be understood last personage, whose back is towards the spectator, with much less capacity, and less expense of time, and his side towards the presence, one would fancy than what is taught by writing ; but the use of it is to be St. Thomas, as abashed by the conscience of generally perverted, and that admirable skill pros- his former diffidence, which perplexed concern it is titnted to the basest and most unworthy ends. Who possible Raphael thought too hard a task to draw, is the better man for beholding the most beautiful but by this acknowledgment of the difficulty to deVenus, the best wrought Bacchanal, the images of scribe it. sleeping Cupids, languishing Nymphs, or any of the The whole work is an exercise of the highest representations of gods, goddesses, demi.gods, satyrs, piety in the painter; and all the touches of a reliPolyphemes, sphynxes, or fauns ? But if the vir-gious mind are expressed in a manner much more tues and vices, wbich are sometimes pretended to forcible than can possibly be performed by the most be represented under such draugbts, were given us moving eloquence. These invaluable pieces are by the painter in the characters of real life, and very justly in the hands of the greatest and most the persons of men and women wbose actions have pious sovereign in the world; and cannot be the rendered them laudable or infamous; we should | frequent object of every one at their own leist re: not see a good bistory-piece without receiving an ) but as an engraver is to the painter what a printer instructive lecture. There needs no other proof of is to the author, it is worthy her majesty's name this truth, than the testimony of every reasonable that she has encouraged that noble artist Monsieur Wisdom of Solomon, chap. vi. ver. 12-16.
Dorigny, to publish these works of Raphael. We 1 The speculation was written with the generous design or have of this gentleman a piece of the Transfigurapromoting a subscription just then set on foot for having the tion, which, I think, is held a work second to none cartoons of Raphael copied and engraved by Signior Nicola in the world. Doriany, who had been invited over from Roine by several of the noallity, and to whom the Queen had given her licence
Methinks it would be ridiculous in our people of for that purpose
condition, after their large bounties to foreigners SPECTATOR-Nos. 33 & 31.
of no name or merit, should they overlook this oc- that if he should escape with life he knows his mis. casion of having, for a trifling subscription, a work tress would be pleased with it: which is, according which it is impossible for a man of sense to behold, to our interpretation, that she would rejoice any without being warmed with the noblest sentiments way to get rid of a lover who was so troublesome that can be inspired by love, admiration, compassion, to her. contempt of this world, and expectation of a better. After this short preface, I shall present my reader
It is certainly the greatest honour we can do our with some letters which I have received upon this country, to distinguish strangers of merit who ap- subject. The first is sent me by a physician. ply to us with modesty and diffidence, which gene.
“MR. SPECTATOR, rally accompanies merit. No opportunity of this kind ought to be neglected, and a modest behaviour “The lover's leap, which you mention in your should alarm us to examine whether we do not lose 223rd paper, was generally, I believe, a very effectsomething excellent under that disadvantage in the ual cure for love, and not only for love, but for all possessor of that quality. My skill in paintings, other evils. In short, Sir, I'am afraid it was suede where one is not directed by the passion of the pic a leap as that which Hero took to get rid of her ture, is so inconsiderable, that I am in very great per- passion for Leander. A man is in no danger of plesity when I offer to speak of any performances breaking his heart, who breaks his neck to prevent of painters of landscapes, buildings, or single figures. it. I know very well the wonders which ancient This makes me at a loss how to mention the pieces authors relate concerning this leap; and in parti: which Mr. Boul exposes to sale by auction on Wed- cular, that very many persons who tried it escaped nesday next in Chandos-street: but having heard not only with their lives but their limbs. If by this him commended by those who have bought of him means they got rid of their love, though it may in beretofore, for great integrity in his dealing, and part be ascribed to the reasons you give for it; why overheard him himself (though a laudable painter) may not we suppose that the cold bath, into which say, nothing of his own was fit to come into the they plunged themselves, had also some share in room with those he had to sell, I feared I should lose their cure? A leap into the sea, or into any creek an occasion of serving a man of worth, in omitting of salt waters, very often gives a new motion to the to speak of his auction.-T.
spirits, and a new turn to the blood; for which reason we prescribe it in distempers which no other
medicine will reach. I could produce a quotation No. 227.7 TUESDAY NOVEMBER 20, 1711.
out of a very venerable author, in which the frenzy
produced by love is compared to that which is proWretch that I am! ah, wbither shall I go
duced by the biting of a mad dog. But as this Will you not hear me, nor regard my woe?
comparison is a little too coarse for your paper, and 1'll strip, and throw me from yon rock so high, Where Olpis sits to watch the scaly fry.
might look as if it were cited to ridicule the author Should I be drown'd, or 'seape with life away, who has made use of it, I shall only hint at it, and
If cur'd of love, you, tyrant, would be gay.-Turocr. desire you to consider whether, if the frenzy proIn my last Thursday's paper, I made mention of duced by these two different causes be of the same a place called The Lover's Leap, which I find has nature, it may not very properly be cured by the raised a great curiosity among several of my cor- same means. respondents. I there told them that this leap was
“ I am, Sir, used to be taken from a promontory of Leucas.
“ Your most homble Servant, and Well-wisher, This Leucas was formerly a part of Acarnania,
“Esculapius." being joined to it by a narrow neck of land, which “ MR. SPECTATOR, the sea has by length of time overflowed and washed
“ I am a young woman crossed in love. My story away; so that at present Leucas is divided from the is very long and melancholy. To give you the continent, and is a little island in the lonian sea. heads of it :-A young gentleman, after having The promontory of this island, from whence the made his applications to me for three years together, lover took his leap, was formerly called Leucate. If and filled my head with a thousand dreams of bapthe reader has a mind to know both the island and piness, some few days sinee married another. Pray the promontory by their modern titles, he will find iell me in what part of the world your promontory in his map the ancient island of Leucas under the lies, which you call The Lover's Leap, and wbether name of St. Maaro, and the ancient promontory of one may go to it by land? But, alas ! I am afraid Leucate under the name of the Cape of St. Mauro. it has lost its virtue, and that a woman of our times
Since I am engaged thus far in antiquity, I must would tind no more relief in taking such a leap, observe that Theocritus, in the motto prefixed to my than in singing a hymn to Venus. So that I must paper, describes one of the despairing shepherds ad- cry out with Dido in Dryden's Virgil ; dressing himself to his mistress after the following
Ah! cruel heav'n, that made no cure for love' manner : “ Alas What will become of me! wretch that I am! Will you not hear me? I'll throw off
" Your disconsolate Servant, my clothes, and take a leap into that part of the sea
“ ATHENAIS" which is so much frequented by Olpis the fisherman.
« MISTER SPICTATUR, And though I should escape with my life, I know " My heart is so full of lofes and passions for you will be pleased with it.” I shall leave it with Mrs. Gwinifrid, and she is so pettish and overrun the critics to determine whether the place, which with cholors against me, that if I had the good hapthis shepherd so particularly points out, was not the piness to have my dwelling (which is placed by my above-mentioned Jeucate, or at least some other creat cranfather upon the pottom of a bill) no far: lover's lear, which was supposed to have had the ther distance but twenty mile from the Lofer's same effect. I cannot believe, as all the interpret- Leap, I would indeed indeafour to preak try neck ers do, that the shepherd means nothing further upon it on purpose. Now, good Mister Spietatmar here than that he would drown himself, since he re- of Crete Pritain you must-know it there is in Caer presents the issue of his leap as doubtful, by adding, narvonshirs a fery pig mountain, the clory of all