in to excel is no addition to what is truly com- conveniences of pen, ink, and paper, by me, 1 mendable; where can this end, but, as it frequently does, in their placing all their industry, pleasure, and ambition, on things wich will naturally make the gratifications of life last, at best, no longer than youth and good fortune? When we consider the least ill consequence, it can be no less than looking on their own condition, as years advance, with a disrelish of life, and falling into contempt of their own persons, or being the derision of others. But when they considered themselves as they ought, no other than an additional part of the species (for their own happiness and comfort, as well as that of those for whom they were born), their ambition to excel will be directed accordingly; and they will in no part of their lives want opportunities of being shining ornaments to their fathers, husbands, brothers, or children.-T. WILL HONEYCOMB, who loves to show upon occasion all the little learning he has picked up, told us yesterday at the club, that he thought there might be a great deal said for the transmigration of souls; and that the eastern parts of the world believed in that doctrine to this day. "Sir Paul Rycaut." says he, "gives us an account of several well-disposed Mahometans that purchase the freedom of any little bird they see confined to a cage, and think they merit as much by it as we should do here by ransoming any of our countrymen from their captivity at Algiers. You must know," says Will, the reason is, because they consider every animal as a brother or sister in disguise; and therefore think themselves obliged to extend their charity to them though under such mean circumstances. They'll tell you," says Will, "that the soul of a man, when he dies, immediately passes into the body of another man, or of some brute, which he resembled in his humor, or his fortune, when he was one of us." As I was wondering what this profusion of learning would end in, Will told us, that "Jack Freelove, who was a fellow of whim, made love to one of those ladies who throw away all their fondness on parrots, monkeys, and lap-dogs, Upon going to pay her a visit one morning, he wrote a very pretty epistle upon this hint. Jack," says he, "was conducted into the parlor, where he diverted himself for some time with her favorite monkey, which was chained in one of the windows: till at length observing a pen and ink lie by him, he wrote the following letter to his mistress in the person of the monkey; and, upon her not coming down so soon as he expected, left it in the window, and went about his business. gladly take the occasion of giving you my history in writing, which I could not do by word of mouth. You must know, Madam, that about a thousand years ago I was an Indian brachman, and versed in all those mysterious secrets which your European philosopher, called Pythagoras, is said to have learned from our fraternity. I had so ingra tiated myself by my great skill in the occult sciences, with a demon whom I conversed with, that he promised to grant me whatever I should ask of him. I desired that my soul might never pass into the body of a brute creature; but this, he told me, was not in his power to grant me. Į then begged that, into whatever creature I should chance to transmigrate, I might still retain my memory, and be conscious that I was the same person who lived in different animals. This, he told me, was within his power, and accordingly promised, on the word of a demon, that he would grant me what I desired. From that time forth I lived so very unblamably, that I was made president of a college of brachmans, an office which I discharged with great integrity till the day of my death. "I was then shuffled into another human body, and acted my part so well in it, that I became first minister to a prince who reigned upon the banks of the Ganges. I here lived in great honor for several years, but by degrees lost all the innocence of the brachman, being obliged to rifle and oppress the people to enrich my sovereign; till at length I became so odious, that my master, to recover his credit with his subjects, shot me through the heart with an arrow, as I was one day addressing myself to him at the head of his army. 64 Upon my next remove, I found myself in the woods under the shape of a jackal, and soon listed myself in the service of a lion. I used to yelp near his den about midnight, which was his time of rousing and seeking after his prey. He always followed me in the rear, and when I had run down a fat buck, a wild goat, or a hare, after he had feasted very plentifully upon it himself, would now and then throw me a bone that was but halfpicked, for my encouragement; but upon my being unsuccessful in two or three chases, he gave me such a confounded gripe in his anger, that I died of it. "In my next transmigration I was again set upon two legs, and became an Indian tax-gatherer: but having been guilty of great extravagances, and being married to an expensive jade of a wife, I ran so cursedly into debt, that I durst not show my head. I could no sooner step out of my house but I was arrested by somebody or other that lay in wait for me. As I ventured abroad one night in the dusk of the evening, I was taken up and hurried into a dungeon, where I died a few months after. "My soul then entered into a flying-fish, and in that state led a most melancholy life for the space of six years. Several fishes of prey pur sued me when I was in the water; and if I be, took myself to my wings, it was ten to one but I had a flock of birds aiming at me. As I was one day flying amidst a fleet of English ships, I observed a huge sea-gull whetting his bill, and hovering just over my head: upon my dipping into the water to avoid him, I fell into the mouth of a monstrous shark, that swallowed me down in an instant. "I was some years afterward, to my great surprise, an eminent banker in Lombard-street; and remembering how I had formerly suffered for want of money, became so very sordid and avaricious, that the whole town cried shawe of me, I was a miserab e little old fellow to look upon; for I had in a manner starved myself, and was nothing but skin and boue when I died. "I was afterward very much troubled and amazed to find myself dwindled into an emmet. I was heartily concerned to make so insignificant a figure, and I did not know but some time or other I might be reduced to a mite, if I did not mend my manners. I therefore applied myself with great diligence to the offices that were allotted to me, and was generally looked upon as the notablest ant in the whole mole-hill. I was at last picked up, as I was groaning under a burden, by an unlucky cock-sparrow, that lived in the neighborhood, and had before made great depredations upon our commonwealth. "I then bettered my condition a little. and lived a whole summer in the shape of a bee; but being tired with the painful and penurious life I had undergone in my two last transmigrations, I fell into the other extreme, and turned drone. As I one day headed a party to plunder a hive, we were received so warmly by the swarm which defended it, that we were most of us left dead upon the spot. "I might tell you of many other transmigrations which I went through; how I was a townrake, and afterward did penance in a bay gelding for ten years; as also how I was a tailor, a shrimp, and a tom-tit. In the last of these my shapes, I was shot in the Christmas holidays by a young jackanapes, who would needs try his new gun upon me. "But I shall pass over these and several other stages of life, to remind you of the young beau who made love to you about six years since. You may remember, Madam, how he masked, and danced, and sung, and played a thousand tricks to gain you; and how he was at last carried off by a cold that he got under your window one night in a serenade. I was that unfortunate young fellow to whom you were then so cruel. Not long after my shifting that unlucky body, I found myself upon a hill in Ethiopia, where I lived in my present grotesque shape, till I was caught by a servant of the English factory, and sent over into Great Britain. I need not inform you how I came into your hands. You see, Madam, this is not the first time that you have had me in a chain: I am, however, very happy in this my captivity, as you often bestow on me those kisses and caresses which I would have given the world for when I was a man. I hope this discovery of my person will not tend to my disadvantage, but that you will still continue your accustomed favors to "Your most devoted, humble Servant, among their acquaintance. Such observations, well pursued, would make a pretty history of low life. I myself am got into a great reputation, which arose (as most extraordinary occurrences in a man's life seem to do) from a mere accident. 1 was some days ago unfortunately engaged among a set of gentlemen, who esteemed a man according to the quantity of food he throws down at a meal. Now I, who am ever for distinguishing myself according to the notions of superiority which the rest of the company entertain, ate so immoderately for their applause, as had like to have cost me my life. What added to my misfortune was, that having naturally a good stomach, and having lived soberly for some time, my body was as well prepared for this contention as if it had been by appointment. I had quickly vanquished every glutton in the company but one, who was such a prodigy in his way, and withal so very merry during the whole entertainment, that he insensibly betrayed me to continue his competitor, which in a little time concluded in a complete victory over my rival; after which, by way of insult, I ate a considerable proportion beyond what the spectators thought me obliged in honor to do. The effect, however, of this engagement, has made me resolve never to eat more for renown; and I have, pursuant to this resolution, compounded three wagers I had depending on the strength of my stomach; which happened very luckily, because it was stipulated in our articles either to play or pay. How a man of common sense could be thus engaged is hard to determine: but the occasion of this is, to desire you to inform several gluttons of my acquaintance, who look on me with envy, that they had best moderate their ambition in time, lest infamy or death attend their success. I forgot to tell you, Sir, with what unspeakable pleasure I received the acclamations of the whole board, when I had almost eat my antagonist into convulsions. It was then that I returned his mirth upon him with such success, as he was hardly able to swallow, though prompted by a desire of fame, and a passionate fondness for distinction. I had not endeavored to excel so far, had not the company been so loud in their approbation of my victory. I do not question but the same thirst after glory has often caused a man to drink quarts without taking breath, and prompted men to many other as difficult enterprises; which, if otherwise pursued, might turn very much to a man's advantage. This ambition of mine was indeed extravagantly pursued; however, I cannot help observing, that you hardly ever see a man commended for a good stomach, but he immediately falls to eating more (though he had before dined), as well to confirm the person that commended him in his good opinion of him, as to convince any other at the table who may have been inattentive enough not to have done justice to his character. "I have written to you three or four times, to desire you would take notice of an impertinent custom the women, the fine women, have lately fallen into, of taking snuff. This silly trick is attended with such a coquette air in some ladies, such a sedate masculine one in others, that I cannot tell which most to complain of; but they are to me equally disagreeable. Mrs. Saunter is so impatient of being without it, that she takes it as often as she does salt at meals: and as she affects a wonderful ease and negligence in all her man ner, an upper lip mixed with snuff and the sauce is what is presented to the observation of all who have the honor to eat with her. The pretty creature her niece does all she can to be as disagreeable as her aunt; and if she is not as offensive to the eye, she is quite as much to the ear, and makes up all she wants in a confident air, by a nauseous rattle of the nose, when the snuff is delivered, and the fingers make the stops and closes on the nostrils. This, perhaps, is not a very courtly image in speaking of ladies; that is very true: but where arises the offense? Is it in those who commit, or those who observe it? As for my part, I have been so extremely disgusted with this filthy physic hanging on the lip, that the most agreeable conversation, or person, has not been able to make up for it. As to those who take it for no other end but to give themselves occasion for pretty action, or to fill up little intervals of discourse, I can bear with them; but then they must not use it when another is speaking, who ought to be heard with too much respect to admit of offering at that time from hand to hand the snuff-box. But Flavilla is so far taken with her behavior in this kind, that she pulls out her box (which is indeed full of good Brazil) in the middle of the sermon; and, to show she has the audacity of a well-bred woman, she offers it to the men as well as the women who sit near her: but since by this time all the world knows she has a fine hand, I am in hopes she may give herself no further trouble in this matter. On Sunday was seven-night when they came about for the offering, she gave her charity with a very good air, but at the same time asked the churchwarden if he would take a pinch. Pray, Sir, think on these things in time, and you will oblige, No. 345.] SATURDAY, APRIL 5, 1712. Sanctius his animal, mentisque capacius altæ A creature of a more exalted kind THE accounts which Raphael gives of the battle of angels, and the creation of the world have in hem those qualifications which the critics judge requisite to an episode. They are nearly related to the principal action, and have a just connection with the fable. The eighth book opens with a beautiful description of the impression which this discourse of the archangel made on our first parents. Adam afterward, by a very natural curiosity, inquires concerning the motions of those celestial bodies which make the most glorious appearance among the six days' works. The poet here, with a great deal of art, represents Eve, as withdrawing from this part of their conversation, to amusements more suitable to her sex. He well knew that the episode in this book, which is filled with Adam's account of his passion and esteem for Eve, would Leve been improper for her hearing, and has thereore devised very just and beautiful reasons for her retiring. So apake our sire, and by his countenance seem'd To visit how they prosper'd, bud and bloom Of what was high: such pleasure she reserv'd, Not words alone pleas'd her. O when meet now The angel's returning a doubtful answer to Adam's inquiries was not only proper for the moral reason which the poet assigns, but oecause it would have been highly absurd to have given the sanction of an archangel to any particular system of philosophy. The chief points in the Ptolemaic and Copernican hypotheses are described with great conciseness and perspicuity, and at the same time dressed in very pleasing and poetical images. Adam, to detain the angel, enters afterward upon his own history, and relates to him the circumstances in which he found himself upon his creation; as also his conversation with his Maker, and his first meeting with Eve. There is no part of the poem more apt to raise the attention of the reader than this discourse of our great ancestor; as nothing can be more surprising and delightful to us, than to hear the sentiments that arose in the first man, while he was yet new and fresh from the hands of his Creator. The poet has interwoven everything which is delivered upon this subject in holy writ with so many beautiful imaginations of his own, that nothing can be conceived more just and natural than this whole episode. As our author knew this subject could not but be agreeable to his reader, he would not throw it into the relation of his six days' works, but reserved it for a distinct episode, that he might have an opportunity of expatiating upon it more at large. Before I enter on this part of the poem, I cannot but take notice of two shining passages in the dialogue between Adam and the angel. The first is that wherein our ancestor gives an account of the pleasure he took in conversing with him, which contains a very noble moral: For while I sit with thee I seem in heav'n, Than fruits of palm-treos (pleasantest to thirst The other I shall mention is that in which the angel gives a reason why he should be glad to hear the story Adam was about to relate: For I that day was absent, as befell, There is no question but our poet drew the image in what follows from that in Virgil's sixth book, where Eneas and the Sibyl stand before the adamantine gates, which are there described as shut upon the place of torments, and listen to the groans, the clank of chains, and the noise of iron whips that were heard in those regions of pain a sorrow. -Fast, we found, fast shut, The dismal gates, and barricado'd strong; But long ere our approaching, heard within Adam then proceeds to give an account of his condition and sentiments immediately after his creation. How agreeably does he represent the posture in which he found himself, the beautiful landscapes that surrounded him, and the gladness of heart which grew up in him on that occasion! -As new wak'd from soundest sleep, Soft on the flow'ry herb I found me laid In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun Soon dry'd, and on the reeking moisture fed. Straight toward heaven my wond'ring eyes I turn'd, And gaz'd awhile the ample sky; till rais'd By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung, As thitherward endeavoring, and upright Stood on my feet. About me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And liquid lapse of murmuring streams; by these, Creatures that liv'd and mov'd, and walk'd, or flew, Birds on the branches warbling; all things smil'd With fragrance, and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. Adam is afterward described as surprised at his own existence, and taking a survey of himself and of all the works of nature. He likewise is represented as discovering, by the light of reason, that he, and everything about him, must have been the effect of some Being infinitely good and powerful, and that this Being had a right to his worship and adoration. His first address to the Sun, and to those parts of the creation which made the most distinguished figure, is very natural and amusing to the imagination: "Thou Sun," said I, “fair light, And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, His next sentiment, when upon his first going to sleep he fancies himself losing his existence, and falling away into nothing, can never be sufficiently admired. His dream, in which he still preserves the consciousness of his existence, together with his removal into the garden which was prepared for his reception, are also circumstances finely imagined, and grounded upon what is delivered in sacred story. These and the like wonderful incidents in this part of the work, have in them all the beauties of novelty, at the same time that they have all the graces of nature. They are such as none but a great genius could have thought of; though, upon the perusal of them, they seem to rise of themselves from the subject of which he treats. In a word, though they are natural, they are not obvious; which is the true character of all fine writing. The impression which the interdiction of the tree of life left in the mind of our first parent is described with great strength and judgment; as the image of the several beasts and birds passing in review before him is very beautiful and lively: -Each bird and beast behold Approaching two and two, these cow'ring low Adam, in the next place, describes a conference which he held with his Maker upon the subject of Bolitude The poet here represents the Supreme Being as making an essay of his own work, and putting to the trial that reasoning faculty with which he had indued his creature. Adam urges, in this divine colloquy, the impossibility of his being happy though he was the inhabitant of Paradise, and lord of the whole creation, without the conversation and society of some rational creature who should partake those blessings with him. This dialogue, which is supported chiefly by the beauty of the thoughts, without other poetical ornaments, is as fine a part as any in the whole poem. The more the reader examines the justness and delicacy of its sentiments, the more he will find himself pleased with it. The poet has wonderfully preserved the character of majesty and condescension in the Creator, and, at the same time, that of humility and adoration in the creature, as particularly in the following lines: Thus I presumptuous; and the vision bright, As with a smile more brighten'd, thus replied, etc. And humble deprecation, thus replied: "Let not my words offend thee, Heavenly Power, Adam then proceeds to give an account of his second sleep, and of the dream in which he beheld the formation of Eve. The new passion that was awakened in him at the sight of her is touched very finely: Under his forming hands a creature grew, Adam's distress upon losing sight of this beautiful phantom, with his exclamations of joy and gratitude at the discovery of a real creature who resembled the apparition which had been presented to him in his dream; the approaches he makes to her, and his manner of conrtship, are all laid together in a most exquisite propriety of senti ments. Though this part of the poem is worked up with great warmth and spirit, the love which is describ ed in it is every way suitable to a state of innocence. If the reader compares the description which Adam here gives of his leading Eve to the nuptial bower, with that which Mr. Dryden has made on the same occasion in a scene of his Fall of Man, he will be sensible of the great care which Milton took to avoid all thoughts on so delicate a subject that might be offensive to religion or good manners. The sentiments are chaste, but not cold; and convey to the mind ideas of the most transporting passion, and of the greatest purity. What a noble mixture of rapture and innocence has the author joined together, in the reflection which Adam makes on the pleasures of love, compared to those of sense! Thus have I told thee all my state, and brought Nor vehement desire; these delicacies I mean of taste, sight, smell, herbs, fruits, and flowers, Far otherwise, transported I behold, Authority and reason on her wait, As one intended first, not after made own fortune. A constant benignity in commerce with the rest of the world, which ought to run through all a man's actions, has effects more useful to those whom you oblige, and is less ostentatious in yourself. He turns his recommendation of this These sentiments of love in our first parent virtue on commercial life: and, according to him, gave the angel such an insight into human nature, citizen who is frank in his kindnesses, and abhat he seems apprehensive of the evils which hors severity in his demands; he who, in buying, might befall the species in general, as well as Adam selling, lending, doing acts of good neighborf ood in particular, from the excess of this passion. He is just and easy; he who appears naturally averse therefore fortifies him against it by timely admoni- to disputes, and above the sense of little sufferings; tions; which very artfully prepare the mind of the bears a noble character, and does much more good reader for the occurrences of the next book, where to mankind than any other man's fortune, without the weakness, of which Adam here gives such dis-commerce, can possibly support. For the citizen, tant discoveries, brings about that fatal event above all other men, has opportunities of arriving which is the subject of the poem. His discourse, at that highest fruit of wealth," to be liberal which follows the gentle rebuke he received from without the least expense of a man's own fortune. the angel, shows that his love, however violent it It is not to be denied but such a practice is liable might appear, was still founded in reason, and to hazard; but this therefore adds to the obligation, that, among traders, he who obliges is as much consequently not improper for Paradise: concerned to keep the favor a secret as he who re ceives it. The unhappy distinctions among us in England are so great, that to celebrate the intercourse of commercial friendship (with which I am daily made acquainted) would be to raise the vir tuous man so many enemies of the contrary party. I am obliged to conceal all I know of "Tom the Bounteous," who lends at the ordinary interest, to give men of less fortune opportunities of making greater advantages. He conceals, under a rough air and distant behavior, a bleeding compassion and womanish tenderness. This is governed by the most exact circumspection, that there is no Neither her outside form'd so fair, nor aught Adam's speech, at parting with the angel, has in it a deference and gratitude agreeable to an inferior nature, and at the same time a certain dignity and greatness suitable to the father of man-industry wanting in the person whom he is to kind in his state of innocence. L. cence. I esteem a habit of benignity greatly preferable to munifiThe former is peculiar to great and distinguished persons; the latter belongs to flatterers of the people, who tickle the levity of the multitude with a kind of pleasure. WHEN We consider the offices of human life, there is, methinks, something in what we ordinarily call generosity, which, when carefully examined, seems to flow rather from a loose and unguarded temper than an honest and liberal mind. For this reason, it is absolutely necessary that all liberality should have for its basis and support, frugality. By this means the beneficent spirit works in a man from the convictions of reason, not from the impulses of passion. The generous man in the ordinary acceptation, without respect of the demands of his own family, will soon find upon the foot of his account, that he has sacrificed to fools, knaves, flatterers, or the deservedly unhappy, all the opportunities of affording any future assistance where it ought to be. Let him therefore reflect, that if to bestow be in itself laudable, should not a man take care to secure an ability to do things praiseworthy as long as he lives? Or could there be a more cruel piece of raillery upon a man who should have reduced his fortune below the capacity of acting according to his natural temper, than to say of him, "That gentleman was generous?" My beloved author therefore has, in the sentence on the top of my paper, turned his eye with a certain satiety from beholding the addresses to the people by largesses and other entertainments, which he asserts to be in general vicious, and are always to be regulated according to the circumstances of time and a man's serve, and that he is guilty of no improper ex- |