tion of scandalous people, who love to defame their neighbors, and make the unjustest interpretation of innocent and indifferent actions. They describe their own behavior so unhappily, that there indeed lies some cause of suspicion upon them. It is certain, that there is no authority for persons who have nothing else to do, to pass away hours of conversation upon the miscarriages of other people; but since they will do so, they who value their reputation should be cautious of appearances to their disadvantage; but very often our young women, as well as the middle-aged, and the gay part of those growing old, without entering into a formal league for that purpose, to a woman agree upon a short way to preserve their characters, and go on in a way that at best is only not vicious. The method is, when an ill-natured or talkative girl has said anything that bears hard upon some part of another's carriage, this creature, if not in any of their little cabals, is run down for the most censorious, dangerous body in the world. Thus they guard their reputation rather than their modesty; as if guilt lay in being under the imputation of a fault, and not in the commission of it. Orbicilla is the kindest poor thing in town, but the most blushing creature living. It is true, she has not lost the sense of shame, but she has lost the sense of innocence. If she had more confidence, and never did anything which ought to stain her cheeks, would she not be much more modest, without that ambiguous suffusion which is the livery both of guilt and innocence? Modesty consists in being conscious of no ill, and not in being ashamed of having done it. When people go upon any other foundation than the truth of their own hearts for the conduct of their actions, it lies in the power of scandalous tongues to carry the world before them, and make the rest of mankind fall in with the ill for fear of reproach. On the other hand, to do what you ought, is the ready way to make calumny either silent, or ineffectually malicious. Spenser, in his Fairy Queen, says admirably to young ladies under the distress of being defamed: "The best," said he; "that I can you advise, Shun secrecy, and talk in open sight: So shall you soon repair your present evil plight.” Instead of this care over their words and actions, recommended by a poet in Old Queen Bess's days, the modern way is to do and say what you please, and yet be the prettiest sort of woman in the world. If fathers and brothers will defend a lady's honor, she is quite as safe as in her own innocence. Many of the distressed, who suffer under the malice of evil tongues, are so harmless, that they are every day they live asleep till twelve at noon; concern themselves with nothing but their own persons till two; take their necessary food between that time and four; visit, go to the play, and sit up at cards till toward the ensuing morn; and the malicious world shall draw conclusions from innocent glances, short whispers, or pretty familiar railleries with fashionable men, that these fair ones are not as rigid as vestals. It is certain, say these "goodest" creatures very well, that virtue does not consist in constrained behavior and wry faces that must be allowed: but there is a decency in the aspect and manner of ladies, contracted from a habit of virtue, and from general reflections that regard a modest conduct,-all which may be understood, though they cannot be described. A young woman of this sort claims an esteem mixed with affection and honor, and meets with no defamation; or, if she does, the wild malice is overcome with an undisturbed perseverance in her innocence. To speak freely, there are such coveys of coquettes about this town, that if the peace were not kept by some impertinent tongues of their own sex, which keep them under some restraint, we should have no manner of engagement upon them to keep them in any tolerable order. As I am a Spectator, and behold how plainly one part of woman-kind balance the behavior of the other, whatever I may think of tale-bearers or slanderers, I cannot wholly suppress them, no more than a general would discourage spies. The enemy would easily surprise him who they knew had no intelligence of their motions. It is so far otherwise with me, that I acknowledge I permit a she-slanderer or two in every quarter of the town, to live in the characters of coquettes, and take all the innocent freedoms of the rest, in order to send me information of the behavior of their respective sisterhoods. But as the matter of respect to the world which looks on, is carried on, methinks it is so very easy to be what is in the general called virtuous, that it need not cost one hour's reflection in a month to preserve that appellation. It is pleasant to hear the pretty rogues talk of virtue and vice among each other. "She is the laziest creature in the world, but, I must confess, strictly virtuous; the peevishest hussy breathing, but as to her virtue, she is without blemish. She has not the least charity for any of her acquaintance, but I must allow her rigidly virtuous." As the unthinking parts of the male world call every man a man of honor, who is not a coward; so the crowd of the other sex terms every woman who will not be a wench, virtuous.-T. No. 391.] THURSDAY, MAY 29, 1712. -Non tu prece poscis emaci, Quæ nisi seductis nequeas committere divis. surro: Tollere de templis: et aperto vivere voto. Mens bona, fama, fides; hæc clare, et ut audiat hospea, Thou know'st to join No bribe unhallow'd to a prayer of thine; WHERE Homer represents Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, as persuading his pupil to lay aside his resentments, and give himself up to the entreaties of his countrymen, the poet, in order to make him speak in character, ascribes to him a speech full of those fables and allegories, which old men take delight in relating, and which are very proper for ! instruction. "The gods," says he," suffer them- | way directly to the trap-door, inquired of Jupiter selves to be prevailed upon by entreaties. When what it meant. This,' says Jupiter, is the morta's hare offended them by their transgressions, smoke of a whole hecatomb that is offered me by they appease them by vows and sacrifices. You the general of an army, who is very importunate must know, Achilles, that prayers are the daugh- with me to let him cut off a hundred thousand ters of Jupiter. They are crippled by frequent men that are drawn up in array against him. kneeling, have their faces full of cares and What does the impudent wretch think I see in him, wnckies, and their eyes always cast toward hea- to believe that I will make a sacrifice of so many ven. They are constant attendants on the goddess mortals as good as himself, and all this to his Ate, and march behind her. This goddess walks glory forsooth? But hark!' says Jupiter, there forward with a bold and haughty air; and, being is a voice I never hear but in time of danger: 'tis very light of foot, runs through the whole earth a rogue that is shipwrecked in the Ionian sea. I grieving and afflicting the sons of men. She gets saved him on a plank but three days ago, upon the start of Prayers, who always follow her, in his promise to mend his manners; the scoundrel is order to heal those persons whom she wounds. not worth a groat, and yet has the impudence to He who honors these daughters of Jupiter, when offer me a temple, if I will keep him from sinkthey draw near to him, receives great benefit ing-But yonder,' says he, is a special youth for from them: but as for him who rejects them, they you; he desires me to take his father, who keeps a entreat their father to give his orders to the god great estate from him, out of the miseries of hudess Ate, to punish him for his hardness of heart." man life. The old fellow shall live till he makes This noble allegory needs but little explanation; his heart ache, I can tell him that for his pains.' for, whether the goddess Ate signifies injury, as This was followed by the soft voice of a pious some have explained it; or guilt in general, as lady, desiring Jupiter that she might appear amiothers; or divine justice, as I am more apt to able and charming in the sight of her emperor. think; the interpretation is obvious enough. As the philosopher was reflecting on this extraor dinary petition, there blew a gentle wind through the trap-door, which he at first mistook for a gale of Zephyrs, but afterward found it to be a breeze of sighs. They smelt strong of flowers and incense, and were succeeded by most passionate complaints of wounds and torments, fires and ar rows, cruelty, despair, and death. Menippus fancied that such lamentable cries arose from some general execution, or from wretches lying under the torture; but Jupiter told him that they came up to him from the isle of Paphos, and that he every day received complaints of the same nature from that whimsical tribe of mortals who are called lovers. I am so trifled with,' says he, ‘by this generation of both sexes, and find it so impossible to please them, whether I grant or refuse their petitions, that I shall order a western wind for the future to intercept them in their passage, and blow them at random upon the earth. The last petition I heard was from a very aged man, of near a hundred years old, begging but for one year more life, and then promising to die contented. This is the rarest old fellow!' says Jupiter; 'he has made this prayer to me for above twenty years together. When he was but fifty years old, he desired only that he might live to see his son settled in the world. I granted it. He then begged the same favor for his daughter, and afterward that he might see the education of a grandson. When all this was brought about, he puts up a petition, that he might live to finish a house he was building. In short, he is an unreasonable old cur, and never wants an excuse; I will hear no more of him.' Upon which he flung down the trap-door in a passion, and was resolved to give no more audiences that day." I shall produce another heathen fable, relating to prayers, which is of a more diverting kind. One would think, by some passages in it, that it was composed by Lucian, or at least by some author who has endeavored to imitate his way of writing; but as dissertations of this nature are more curious than useful, I shall give my reader the fable, without any further inquiries after the author. Menippus, the philosopher, was a second time taken up into heaven by Jupiter, when, for his entertainment, he lifted up a trap-door that was placed by his footstool. At its rising, there issued through it such a din of cries as astonished the philosopher. Upon his asking what they meant, Jupiter told him they were the prayers that were sent up to him from the earth. Menippus, amid the confusion of voices, which was so great that nothing less than the ear of Jove could distinguish them, heard the words, riches, honor,' and long life,' repeated in several different tones and languages. When the first hubbub of sounds was over, the trap-door being left open, the voices came up more separate and distinct. The first prayer was a very odd one; it came from Athens, and desired Jupiter to increase the wisdom and the beard of his humble supplicant. Menippus knew it by the voice to be the prayer of his friend Licander, the philosopher. This was succeeded by the petition of one who had just laden a ship, and promised Jupiter, if he took care of it, and returned it home again full of riches, he would make him an offering of a silver cup. Jupiter thanked him for nothing; and, bending down his ear more attentively than ordinary, heard a voice complaining to him of the cruelty of an Ephesian widow, and begged him to breed compassion in her heart. This,' says Jupiter, is a very honest fellow. I have received a great deal of incense from him: I will not be so cruel to him as to hear his prayers.' He was then interrupted with a whole volley of vows which were made for the health of a tyrannical prince by his subjects who prayed for him in his presence. Menippus was surprised, after having listened to prayers offered up with so much ardor and devotion, to hear low whispers from the same assembly, expostulating with Jove for suffering such a tyrant to live, and asking him how his thunder could lie idle? Jupiter was so offended with these prevaricating rascals, that he took down the first vows, and puffed away the last. The philosopher seeing a great cloud mounting upward, and making its Notwithstanding the levity of this fable, the moral of it very well deserves our attention, and is the same with that which has been inculcated by Socrates and Plato, not to mention Juvenal and Persius, who have each of them made the finest satire in their whole works upon this subject. The vanity of men's wishes, which are the natural prayers of the mind, as well as many of those se cret devotions which they offer to the Supreme Being, are sufficiently exposed by it. Among other reasons for set forms of prayer, I have often thought it a very good one, that by this means the folly and extravagance of men's desires may be kept within due bounds, and not break out in absurd and ridiculous petitions on so great and sollemn an occasion.-I. No. 392.] FRIDAY, MAY 30, 1712. Per ambages et ministeria deorum And claims the ministry of heavenly powers. The Transformation of Fidelio into a Looking-glass. "MR. SPECTATOR, no one there but the innocent Fidelio, with his back against the wall betwixt two windows. a distance that he could hear nothing, he imagined strange things from her airs and gestures. Sometimes with a serene look she stepped back in a listening posture, and brightened into an innocent smile. Quickly after she swelled into an air of majesty and disdain, then kept her eyes half shut after a languishing manner, then covered her blushes with her hand, breathed a sigh, and seemed ready to sink down. In rushed the furi"I was lately at a tea-table, where some youngous lover: but how great was his surprise to see ladies entertained the company with a relation of a coquette in the neighborhood, who had been discovered practicing before her glass. To turn the discourse, which from being witty grew to be malicious, the matron of the family took occasion from the subject to wish that there were to be found among men such faithful monitors to dress the mind by, as we consult to adorn the body. She added that, if a sincere friend were miraculously changed into a looking-glass, she should not be ashamed to ask its advice very often. This whimsical thought worked so much upon my fancy the whole evening, that it produced a very odd dream. "Methought that, as I stood before my glass, the image of a youth of an open ingenuous aspect appeared in it, who with a shrill voice spoke in the following manner: "The looking-glass you see was heretofore a man, even I the unfortunate Fidelio. I had two brothers, whose deformity in shape was made up by the clearness of their understandings. It must be owned, however, that (as it generally happens) | they had each a perverseness of humor suitable to their distortion of body. The eldest, whose belly sunk in monstrously, was a great coward: and though his splenetic contracted temper made him take fire immediately, he made objects that beset him appear greater than they were. The second, whose breast swelled into a bold relievo, on the contrary, took great pleasure in lessening every thing, and was perfectly the reverse of his brother. These oddnesses pleased company once or twice, but disgusted when often seen; for which reason, the young gentlemen were sent from court to study mathematics at the university. "I need not acquaint you, that I was very well made, and reckoned a bright polite gentleman. I was the confidant and darling of all the fair; and if the old and ugly spoke ill of me, all the world knew it was because I scorned to flatter them. No ball, no assembly was attended until I had been consulted. Flavia colored her hair before me, Celia showed me her teeth, Panthea heaved her bosom, Cleora brandished her diamond; I have seen Chloe's foot, and tied artificially the garters of Rhodope. "It is a general maxim, that those who doat upon themselves can have no violent affection for another: but, on the contrary, I found that the women's passion rose for me in proportion to the love they bore to themselves. This was verified in my amour with Narcissa, who was so constant to me, that it was pleasantly said, had I been little enough, she would have hung me at her girdle. The most dangerous rival I had was a gay empty fellow, who by the strength of a long intercourse with Narcissa, joined to his natural endowments, had formed himself into a perfect resemblance with her. I had been discarded, had she not observed that he frequently asked my opinion about matters of the last consequence. This made me still more considerable in her eye. "Though I was eternally caressed by the ladies, Buch was their opinion of my honor, that I was never envied by the men. A jealous lover of Nareissa one day thought he had caught her in an amorous conversation: for, though he was at such "It were endless to recount all my adventures. Let me hasten to that which cost me my life, and Narcissa her happiness. -pox, She had the misfortune to have the small-p upon which I was expressly forbid her sight, it being apprehended that it would increase her distemper, and that I should infallibly catch it at the first look. As soon as she was suffered to leave her bed, she stole out of her chamber, and found me all alone in an adjoining apartment. She ran with transport to her darling, and without mixture of fear lest I should dislike her. But oh me! what was her fury when she heard me say, I was afraid and shocked at so loathsome a spectacle! She stepped back, swollen with rage, to see if I had the insolence to repeat it. I did, with this addition, that her ill-timed passion had increased her ugliness. Enraged, inflamed, distracted, she snatched a bodkin and with all her force stabbed me to the heart. Dying, I preserved my sincerity, and expressed the truth, though in broken words; and by reproachful grimaces to the last I mimicked the deformity of my murderess. 'Cupid, who always attends the fair, and pitied the fate of so useful a favorite as I was, obtained of the destinies, that my body should remain incorruptible, and retain the qualities my mind had possessed. I immediately lost the figure of man, and became smooth, polished, and bright, and to this day am the first favorite with the ladies."-T. No. 393.] SATURDAY, MAY 31, 1712. Nescio qua præter solitum dulcedine læti. VIRG. Georg. i. 412. Unusual sweetness purer joys inspires. LOOKING Over the letters that have been sent me, I chanced to find the following one, which I received about two years ago from an ingenious friend who was then in Denmark ::"DEAR SIR, Copenhagen, May 1, 1710. "The spring with you has already taken possession of the fields and woods. Now is the season of solitude, and of moving complaints upon trivial sufferings. Now the griefs of lovers begin to flow, and their wounds to bleed afresh. I, too, at this distance from the softer climates, am not without my discontents at present. You perhaps may laugh at me for a most romantic wretch, when I have disclosed to you the occasion of my uneasiness; and yet I cannot help thinking my unhappiness real, in being confined to a region which is the very reverse of Paradise. The seasons here are all of them unpleasant, and the country quite destitute of rural charms. I have not heard a bird sing, nor a brook murmur, nor a breeze whisper, neither have I been blest with the sight of a flowery meadow, these two years. Every wind here is a tempest, and every water a turbulent ocean. I hope, when you reflect a little, you will not think the grounds of my complaint in the least frivo lous and unbecoming a man of serious thought; since the love of woods, of fields and flowers, of rivers and fountains, seems to be a passion implanted in our natures the most early of any, even before the fair sex had a being. "I am, Sir," etc. Could I transport myself with a wish from one country to another, I should choose to pass my winter in Spain, my spring in Italy, my summer in England, and my autumn in France. Of all these seasons there is none that can vie with the spring for beauty and delightfulness. It bears the same figure among the seasons of the year, that the morning does among the divisions of the day, or youth among the stages of life. The English summer is pleasanter than that of any other coun: try in Europe, on no other account but because it has a greater mixture of spring in it. The mildness of our climate, with those frequent refreshments of dews and rains that fall among us, keep up a perpetual cheerfulness in our fields, and fill the hottest months of the year with a lively ver dure. In the opening of the spring, when all nature begins to recover herself, the same animal plea sure which makes the birds sing, and the whole brute creation rejoice, rises very sensibly in the heart of man. I know none of the poets who have observed so well as Milton these secret overflowings of gladness which diffuse themselves through the mind of the beholder, upon surveying the gay scenes of nature: he has touched upon it twice or thrice in his Paradise Lost, and describes it very beautifully under the name of "vernal delight," in that passage where he represents the devil himself as almost sensible of it: Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue Many authors have written on the vanity of the creature, and represented the barrenness of everything in this world, and its incapacity of producing any solid or substantial happiness. As discourses of this nature are very useful to the sensual and voluptuous, those speculations which show the bright side of things, and lay forth those innocent entertainments which are to be met with among the several objects that encompass us, are no less beneficial to men of dark and melancholy tempers. It was for this reason that I endeavored to recommend a cheerfulness of mind in my two last Saturday's papers, and which I would still inculcate, not only from the consideration of ourselves, and of that Being on whom we depend, nor from the general survey of that universe in which we are placed at present, but from reflections on the particular season in which this paper is written. The creation is a perpetual feast to the mind of a good man: everything he sees cheers and delights him. Providence has imprinted so many smiles on nature, that it is impossible for a mind which is not sunk in more gross and sensual delights, to take a survey of them without several secret sensations of pleasure. The Psalmist has, in several of his divine poems, celebrated those beautiful and agreeable scenes which make the heart glad, and produce in it that vernal delight which I have before taken notice of. Natural philosophy quickens this taste of the creation, and renders it not only pleasing to the imagination, but to the understanding. It does not rest in the murmur of brooks and the melody | of birds, in the shade of groves and woods, or in the embroidery of fields and meadows; but considers the several ends of Providence which are served by them, and the wonders of divine wis dom which appear in them. It heightens the admiration in the soul, as is little inferior to devopleasures of the eye, and raises such a rational tion. this kind of worship to the great Author of naIt is not in the power of every one to offer up of heart, which are doubtless highly acceptable in ture, and to indulge these more refined meditations his sight; I shall therefore conclude this short es conceives from the present season of the year, by say on that pleasure which the mind naturally the recommending of a practice for which every one has sufficient abilities. this natural pleasure of the soul, and to improve I would have my readers endeavor to moralize this vernal delight, as Milton calls it, into a Chris tian virtue. When we find ourselves inspired with this pleasing instinct, this secret satisfacof the creation, let us consider to whom we stand tion and complacency, arising from the beauties indebted for all these entertainments of sense, and who it is that thus opens his hand, and fills the take advantage of our present temper of mind, to world with good. The Apostle instructs us to graft upon it such a religious exercise as is partieularly conformable to it, by that precept which advises those who are sad to pray, and those who heart which springs up in us from the survey of are merry to sing psalms. The cheerfulness of nature's works, is an admirable preparation for gratitude. The mind has gone a great way to ward praise and thanksgiving, that is filled with such a secret gladness-a grateful reflection on the Supreme Cause who produces it, sanctifies it in the soul, and gives it its proper value. Such an habitual disposition of mind consecrates every field and wood, turns an ordinary walk into a morning or evening sacrifice, and will improve those transient gleams of joy which naturally brighten up and refresh the soul on such occa sions, into an inviolable and perpetual state of bliss and happiness.-I. No. 394.] MONDAY, JUNE 2, 1712. Bene colligitur hæc pueris et mulierculis et servis et ser vorum simillimis liberis esse grata: gravi vero homini et ea, quæ fiunt, indicio certo ponderanti, probari posse nullo modo.-TULL. It is obvious to see, that these things are very acceptable to children, young women, and servants, and to such as most resemble servants; but they can by no means meet with the approbation of people of thought and consideration. I HAVE been considering the little and frivolous things which give men access to one another, and power with each other, not only in the commot and indifferent accidents of life, but also in matters of greater importance. You see in elections for members of parliament, how far saluting rows of old women, drinking with clowns, and being upon a level with the lowest part of mankind, i that wherein they themselves are lowest, their di versions, will carry a candidate. A capacity fo prostituting a man's self in his behavior, and de scending to the present humor of the vulgar, perhaps as good an ingredient as any other for making a considerable figure in the world; and if a man has nothing else or better to think of, b could not make his way to wealth and distinction by properer methods, than studying the particular bent or inclination of people with whom he con verses, and working from the observation of such their bias in all matters wherein he has any inter 4 course with them for his ease and comfort he | The island of Barbadoes (a shrewd people) mamay assure himself, he need not be at the expense nage all their appeals to Great Britain by a skillful of any great talent or virtue to please even those distribution of citron water among the whisperwho are possessed of the highest qualifications. ers about men in power. Generous wines do every Pride, in some particular disguise or other (often day prevail, and that in great points, where ten a secret to the proud man himself), is the most or- thousand times their value would have been redinary spring of action among men. You need jected with indignation. no more than to discover what a man values himself for: then of all things admire that quality, but be sure to be failing in it yourself in comparison of the man whom you court. I have heard or read of a secretary of state in Spain, who served a prince who was happy in an elegant use of the Latin tongue, and often wrote dispatches in it with his own hand. The king showed his secretary a letter he had written to a foreign prince, and under the color of asking his advice, laid a trap for his applause. The honest man read it as a faithful counselor, and not only excepted against his tying himself down too much by some expressions, but mended the phrase in others. You may guess the dispatches that evening did not take much longer time. Mr. Secretary, as soon as he came to his own house, sent for his eldest son, and communicated to him that the family must retire out of Spain as soon as possible; for," said he, "the king knows I understand Latin better than he does." This egregious fault in a man of the world, should be a lesson to all who would make their fortunes: but a regard must be carefully had to the person with whom you have to do; for it is not to be doubted but a great man of common sense must look with secret indignation, or bridled laughter, on all the slaves who stand round him with ready faces to approve and smile at all he says in the gross. It is good comedy enough to observe a superior talking half sentences, and playing a humble admirer's countenance from one thing to another, with such perplexity, that he knows not what to sneer in approbation of. But this kind of complaisance is peculiarly the manner of courts; in all other places you must constantly go further in compliance with the persons you have to do with, than a mere conformity of looks and gestures. If you are in a country life, and would be a leading man, a good stomach, a loud voice, and a rustic cheerfulness, will go a great way, provided you are able to drink, and drink anything. But I was just now going to draw the manner of behavior I would advise people to practice under some maxim; and intimated, that every one almost was governed by his pride. There was an old fellow about forty years ago so peevish and fretful, though a man of business, that no one could come at him: but he frequented a particular little coffee-house, where he triumphed over everybody at trick-track and backgammon. The way to pass his office well, was first to be insulted by him at one of those games in his leisure hours; for his vanity was to show that he was a man of pleasure as well as business. Next to this sort of insinuation, which is called in all places (from its taking its birth in the households of princes) making one's court, the most prevailing way is, by what better-bred people call a present, the vulgar a bribe. I humbly conceive that such a thing is conveyed with more gallantry in a billet doux that should be understood at the Bank, than in gross money, but as to stubborn people, who are so surly as to accept of neither note nor cash, having formerly dabbled in chemistry, I can only say, that one part of matter asks one thing, and another another, to make it fluent; but there is nothing but may be dissolved by a proper mean. Thus, the virtue which is too obdurate for gold or paper, shall melt away very kindly in a liquid. But, to wave the enumeration of the sundry ways of applying by presents, bribes, management of people's passions and affections, in such a manner as it shall appear that the virtue of the best man is by one method or other corruptible, let us look out for some expedient to turn those passions and affections on the side of truth and honor. When a man has laid it down for a position, that parting with his integrity, in the minutest circumstance, is losing so much of his very self, self-love will become a virtue. By this means, good and evil will be the only objects of dislike and approbation; and he that injures any man, has effectually wounded the man of this turn as much as if the harm had been to himself. This seems to be the only expedient to arrive at an impartiality: and a man who follows the dictates of truth and right reason, may by artifice be led into error, but never can into guilt.-T. No. 395.] TUESDAY, JUNE 3, 1712. OVID. Rem. Amor. 10. But though I hope for the best, I shall not pronounce too positively on this point, till I have seen forty weeks well over; at which period of time, as my good friend Sir Roger has often told me, he has more business as a justice of peace, among the dissolute young people in the country, than at any other season of the year. Neither must I forget a letter which I received near a fortnight since from a lady, who, it seems, could hold out no longer, telling me she looked upon the month as then out, for that she had all along reckoned by the new style. On the other hand, I have great reason to be lieve, from several angry letters which have been sent to me by disappointed lovers, that my advice has been of very signal service to the fair sex, who, according to the old proverb, were "forewarned, forearmed. " One of these gentlemen tells me, that he would have given me a hundred pounds, rather than I should have published that paper; for that his mistress, who had promised to explain herself to him about the beginning of May, upon reading that discourse told him, that she would give him her answer in June, Thyrsis acquaints me, that when he desired Sylvia to take a walk in the fields, she told him, the Spectator had forbidden her. Another of my correspondents, who writes himself Mat Meager, complains that, whereas he constantly used to breakfast with his mistress upon / *Then commonly called Barbadoes water. |