which enters the heart with a certain familiarity, and cheats it into a belief that it has received a lover as well as an object of love. The force of their different beauties is seen also in the effects it makes on their lovers. The admirers of Chloe are eternally gay and well-pleased: those of Clarissa, melancholy and thoughtful. And as this passion always changes the natural man into a quite different creature from what he was before, the love of Chloe makes coxcombs; that of Clarissa, madmen. There were of each kind just now in this room. Here was one that whistles, laughs, sings, and cuts capers, for love of Chloe. Another has just now writ three lines to Clarissa, then taken a turn in the garden, then came back again, then tore his fragment, then called for some chocolate, then went away without it.

Chloe has so many admirers in the house at present that there is too much noise to proceed in my narration; so that the progress of the loves of Clarissa and Chloe, together with the bottles that are drunk each night for the one, and the many sighs which are uttered, and songs written on the other, must be our subject on future occasions.

Will's Coffee-house, April 18.

Letters from the Haymarket inform us, that on Saturday night last the Opera of Pyrrhus and Demetrius was performed with great applause. This intelligence is not very acceptable to us friends of the theatre; for the stage being an entertainment of the reason and all our faculties, this way of being pleased with the suspense of them for three hours together, and being given up to the shallow satisfaction of the eyes and ears only, seems to arise rather from the degeneracy of our understanding, than an improve ment of our diversions. That the understanding has no part in the pleasure is evident, from what these letters very positively assert; to wit, that a great part of the performance was done in Italian; and a great critic fell into fits in the gallery, at seeing, not only time and place, but languages and nations confused in the most incorrigible manner. His spleen is so extremely moved on this occasion that he is going to publish a treatise against operas, which, he thinks, have already inclined us to thoughts of peace, and, if tolerated, must infallibly dispirit us from carrying on the war. He has communicated his scheme to the whole room, and declared in what manner things of this kind were first introduced. He has, upon this occasion, considered the nature of sounds in general; and made a very elaborate digression upon the London Cries, wherein he has shown, from reason and philosophy, why oysters are cried, card-matches sung, and turnips and all other vegetables neither cried, sung, nor said, but sold, with an accent and tone neither natural to man nor beast. This piece seems to be taken from the model of that excellent discourse of Mrs. Manly the school-mistress, concerning samplers. Advices from the upper end of Piccadilly, say that May-fair is utterly abolished; and we hear Mr. Penkethman has removed his ingenious company of strollers to Greenwich. But other letters from Deptford say, the company is only making thither, and not yet settled; but that several heathen gods and goddesses, which are to descend in machines, landed at the King's-head Stairs last Saturday. Venus and Cupid went on foot from thence to Greenwich; Mars got drunk in the town, and broke his landlord's head, for which he sat in the stocks the whole evening; but Mr. Penkethman giving security that he should do nothing this ensuing summer, he was set at liberty. The most melancholy part of all was, that Diana was TATLER, No. 2.

taken in the act of fornication with a boatman, and committed by justice Wrathful; which has, it seems, put a stop to the diversions of the theatre of Black heath. But there goes down another Diana and a Patient Grizzel next tide from Billingsgate.

It is credibly reported, that Mr. D-y has agreed with Mr. Penkethman to have his play acted before that audience as soon as it has had its first sixteen days run in Drury-lane.

St. James's Coffee-house, April 18.

They write from Saxony, of the thirteenth instant, N. S. that the grand general of the crown of Poland, was so far from entering into a treaty with king Sta nislaus, that he had written circular letters, wherein he exhorted the Palatines to join against him; de claring that this was the most favourable conjuncture for asserting their liberty.

Letters from the Hague of the twenty-third instant, N. S. say, they have advices from Vienna which import that his electoral highness of Hanover had signi fied to the imperial court, that he did not intend to put himself at the head of the troops of the empire, except more effectual measures were taken for acting vigorously against the enemy the ensuing campaign. Upon this representation, the emperor has given orders to several regiments to march towards the Rhine; and despatched expresses to the respective princes of the empire to desire an augmentation of their forces.

These letters add, that an express arrived at the Hague on the twentieth instant, with advice that the enemy having made a detachment from Tournay of fifteen hundred horse, each trooper carrying a foot soldier behind him, in order to surprise the garrison of Alost; the allies, upon notice of their march, sent out a strong body of troops from Ghent, which engaged the enemy at Asche, and took two hundred of them prisoners, obliging the rest to retire without making any farther attempt. On the twenty-second in the morning, a fleet of merchant ships, coming from Scotland, were attacked by six French privateers, at the entrance of the Meuse. We have yet no certain advice of the event; but letters from Rotterdam say, that a Dutch man-of-war of forty guns, which was convoy to the said fleet, was taken, as were also eighteen of the merchants. The Swiss troops in the service of the States have completed the augmentation of their respective companies. Those of Wirtemberg and Prussia are expected on the frontiers within a few days; and the auxiliaries from Saxony, as also a battalion of Holstein, and another of Wolfenbuttle, are advancing thither with all expedition. On the twenty-first instant the deputies of the States had a conference near Woerden with the president Rouille; but the matter which was therein debated is not made public. His grace the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene continue at the Hague.

From my own Apartment, April 18.

I have lately been very studious for intelligence, and have just now, by my astrological flying post, received a packet from Felicia, an island in America, with an account that gives me great satisfaction, and lets me understand, that the island was never in greater prosperity, or the administration in so good hands, since the death of their late glorious king. These letters import, that the chief minister has entered into a firm league with the ablest and best men of the nation, to carry on the cause of liberty, to the encouragement of religion, virtue, and honour. Those persons at the helm are so useful, and in themselves of such weight, that their strict alliance must

C

needs tend to the universal prosperity of the people. Camillo, it seems, presides over the deliberations of state; and is so highly valued by all men for his singular probity, courage, affability, and love of mankind, that his being placed in that station has dissipated the fears of that people, who of all the world are the most jealous of their liberty and happiness, and the least provident for their security. The next member of their society is Horatio, who makes all the public despatches. This minister is master of all the languages in use, to great perfection. He is held in the highest veneration imaginable for a severe honesty, and love of his country: he lives in a court unsullied with any of its artifices, the refuge of the oppressed, and terror of oppressors. Martio has joined himself to this council; a man of most undaunted resolution, and great knowledge in maritime affairs; famous for destroying the navy of the Franks, and singularly happy in one particular, that he never preferred a man who has not proved remarkably serviceable to his country. Philander is mentioned with particular distinction; a nobleman who has the most refined taste of the true pleasures and elegance of life, joined to an indefatigable industry in business; a man eloquent in assemblies, agreeable in conversation, and dexterous in all manner of public negotiations. These letters add, that Verono, who is also of this council, has lately set sail to his government of Patricia, with design to confirm the affections of the people in the interests of his queen. This minister is master of great abilities, and is as industrious and restless for the preservation of the liberties of the people, as the greatest enemy can be to subvert them. The influence of these personages, who are men of such distinguished parts and virtue, makes the people enjoy the utmost tranquillity in the midst of a war, and gives them undoubted hopes of a secure peace from their vigilance and integrity.

ADVERTISEMENT.

Upon the humble petition of running stationers, &c. this Paper may be had of them, for the future, at the price of one penny.

No. 5.]

THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 1709.

White's Chocolate-house, April 20. Who names that lost thing, love, without a tear, Since so debauch'd by ill-bred customs here? To an exact perfection they have brought The action love, the passion is forgot.' This was long ago a witty author's lamentation, but the evil still continues; and if a man of any delicacy were to attend the discourses of the young fellows of this age, he would believe there were none but prostitutes to make the objects of passion. So true it is what the author of the above verses said a little before his death of the modern pretenders to gallantry: they set up for wits in this age, by say ing when they are sober, what they of the last, spoke only when they were drunk.' But Cupid is not only blind at present, but dead drunk; he has lost all his faculties: else how should Celia be so long a maid with that agreeable behaviour? Corinna with that sprightly wit? Lesbia with that heavenly voice? and Sacharissa, with all those excellencies in one person, frequent the park, the play, and murder the poor tits that drag her to public places, and not a man turn pale at her appearance? But such is the fallen state of love, that if it were not for honest Cynthio, who is true to the cause, we should hardly

have a pattern left of the ancient worthies that way; and indeed, he has but very little encouragement to persevere; but he has a devotion, rather than love for his mistress, and says,

'Only tell her that I love,

Leave the rest to her and fate;
Some kind planet from above
May, perhaps, her passion move;

Lovers on their stars must wait.'

But the stars I am so intimately acquainted with, that I can assure him he will never have her; for, would you believe it? though Cynthio has wit, good sense, fortune, and his very being depends upon her, the termagant for whom he sighs is in love with a fellow who stares in the glass all the time he is with her, and lets her plainly see, she may possibly be his rival, but never his mistress. Yet Cynthio, the same unhappy man, whom I mentioned in my first narra tive, pleases himself with a vain imagination, that with the language of his eyes, now he has found whe she is, he shall conquer her, though her eyes are in tent upon one who looks from her; which is ordinary with the sex. It is certainly a mistake in the ancients, to draw the little gentleman LOVE as a blind boy; for his real character is, a little thief that squints; for ask Mrs. Meddle, who is a confident or spy upon all the passions in town, and she will tell you that the whole is a game of cross purposes. The lover is generally pursuing one who is in pursuit of another, and running from one that desires to meet him. Nay, the nature of this passion is so justly represented in a squinting little thief (who is always in a double action), that do but observe Clarissa next time you see her, and you will find, when her eyes have made their soft tour round the company, she makes no stay on him they say she is to marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her or any woman else. However, Cynthio had a bow from her the other day, upon which he is very much come to himself; and I heard him send his man of an errand yesterday, without any manner of hesitation; a quarter of an hour after which he reckoned twenty, remembered he was to sup with a friend, and went exactly to his appointment. I sent to know how he did this morning; and I find that he hath not forgot that he spoke to me yesterday.

Will's Coffee-house, April 20.

This week being sacred to holy things, and no public diversions allowed, there has been taken notice of, even here, a little treatise, called, A Project for the Advancement of Religion: dedicated to the Countess of Berkeley:' the title was so uncommon, and promised so peculiar a way of thinking, that every man here has read it, and as many as have done so, have approved it. It is written with the spirit of one who has seen the world enough to undervalue it with good-breeding. The author must certainly be a man of wisdom as well as piety, and have spent much time in the exercise of both. The real causes of the decay of the interest of religion are set forth in a clear and lively manner without unseasonable passions; and the whole air of the book, as to the language, the sentiments, and the reasonings, shows it was written by one whose virtue sits easy about him, and to whom vice is thoroughly contemptible. It was said by one of this company, alluding to that knowledge of the world the author seems to have, The man writes much like a gentleman, and goes to heaven with a very good mien.'

upon Valentine, and lamenting his cruelties to him, he died in the pangs of remorse and despair.

It may be a question among men of noble sentiments, whether of these unfortunate persons had the greater soul; he that was so generous as to venture his life for his enemy, or he who could not survive the man that died, in laying upon him such an obligation?

When we see spirits like these in a people, to what heights may we not suppose their glory may rise? but (as it is excellently observed by Sallust) it is not only to the general bent of a nation that great revolutions are owing, but to the extraordinary genio's that lead them. On which occasion, he proceeds to say, that the Roman greatness was neither to be attributed to their superior policy, for in that the Carthaginians excelled; nor to their valour, for in that the Gauls were preferable; but to particular men, who were born for the good of their country, and formed for great attempts. This he says, to introduce the characters of Cæsar and Cato. It would be entering into too weighty a discourse for this place, if I attempted to shew, that our nation has produced as great and able men for public affairs as any other. But, I believe, the reader outruns me, and fixes his imagination upon the Duke of Marlborough. It is, methinks, a pleasing reflection, to consider the dispensations of Providence in the fortune of this illustrious man, who, in the space of forty years, has passed through all the gradations of human life, until he has ascended to the character of a prince, and become the scourge of a tyrant, who sat on one of the greatest thrones of Europe, before the man who was to have the greatest part in his downfall, had made one step into the world. But such elevations are the natural consequences of an exact prudence, a calm courage, a well-governed temper, a patient ambition, and an affable behaviour. These arts, as they were the steps to his greatness, so they are the pillars of it now it is raised. To this, her glorious son, Great Britain is indebted for the happy conduct of her arms, whom she can boast, that she has produced a man formed by nature to lead a nation of heroes.

No, 6.] SATURDAY, APRIL 23, 1709.

Will's Coffee-house, April 22.

I am just come from visiting Sappho, a fine lady, who writes verses, sings, dances, and can say and do whatever she pleases, without the imputation of any thing that can injure her character; for she is so well known to have no passion, but self-love; or folly, but affectation; that now, upon any occasion, they only cry, It is her way!' and,That is so like her!' without farther reflection. As I came into the room, she cries, Oh! Mr. Bickerstaff, I am utterly undone; I have broke that pretty Italian fan I shewed you when you were here last, wherein were so admirably drawn our first parents in Paradise, asleep in each other's arms. But there is such an affinity between painting and poetry, that I have been improving the images which were raised by that picture, by reading the same representation in two of our greatest poets. Look you, here are the same passages in Milton and in Dryden. All Milton's thoughts are wonderfully just and natural, in that inimitable description which Adam makes of himself, in the eighth book of Paradise Lost. But there is none of them finer than that contained in the following lines, where he tells us his thoughts, when he was falling asleep, a little after the creation:

While thus I call'd, and stray'd I knew not whither
From whence I first drew air, and first beheld
This happy light; when answer none return'd,
On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers,
Pensive I sate me down, there gentle sleep
First found me, and with soft oppression seiz'd
My drowned sense, untroubled, though I thought
I then was passing to my former state
Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve.

But now I cannot forgive this odious thing, this Dryden, who, in his State of Innocence,' has given my great grandmother Eve the same apprehension of annihilation on a very different occasion; as Adam pronounces it of himself, when he was seized with a pleasing kind of stupor and deadness, Eve fancies herself falling away, and dissolving in the hurry sí a rapture. However, the verses are very good, and 1 do not know but what she says may be natural; I will read them :

When your kind eyes look'd languishing on mine,
And wreathing arms did soft embraces join;
A doubtful trembling seiz'd me first all o'er,
Then wishes, and a warmth unknown before;
What followed was all ecstasy and trance,
Immortal pleasures round my swimming eyes did
dance,

And speechless joys, in whose sweet tumults tost
I thought my breath and my new being lost.

She went on, and said a thousand good things at random, but so strangely mixed, that you would be apt to say, all her wit is mere good luck, and not the effect of reason and judgment. When I made inv escape hither, I found a gentleman playing the critic on two other great poets, even Virgil and Homer. He was observing, that Virgil is more judicious than the other in the epithets he gives his hero. Homer's usual epithet, said he, is ódas wys, or Islám.. and his indiscretion has been often rallied by the critics, for mentioning the nimbleness of foot in Achilles, though he describes him standing, sitting, lying down, fighting, eating, drinking, or in any other circumstance, however foreign or repugnant to speed and activity. Virgil's common epithet to Æneas, is Pius or Pater. I have therefore considered, said he, what passage there is in any of his hero's actions, where either of these appellations would have been most proper, to see if I could catch him at the same fault with Homer: and this, I think, is his meeting with Dido in the cave, where Pius Æneas would have been absurd, and Pater Eneas a burlesque: the poet, therefore, wisely dropped them both for Dur Trojanus; which he has repeated twice in Juno's speech, and his own narration; for he very well knew, a loose action might be consistent enough with the usual manners of a soldier, though it became neither the chastity of a pious man, nor the gravity of the father of a people.

Grecian Coffee-house, April 22.

While other parts of the town are amused with the present actions, we generally spend the evening at this table in enquiries into antiquity, and think any thing news which gives us new knowledge. Thus we are making a very pleasant entertainment to ourselves, in putting the actions of Homer's Iliad into an exact journal.

This poem is introduced by Chryses, king of Chryseïs and priest of Apollo, who comes to redemand his daughter, who had been carried off at the taking of that city, and given to Agamemnon for his